The Friday morning traffic soon had my thoughts concentrating on it. The day was a mad house. When I got to work there was a large envelope on my desk...from my manager. It was my next field assignment. I would be on the road for the next two weeks. I felt like a knife was in the pit in my stomach two weeks without Jayden.My trip home was better than the night before. It tried a different route that actually worked. Once home I hit the shower and then dressed in a loose robe with nothing on. The one thing all parties had in common was that if you told a guy "No", it meant just that. Nobody was forced to do things they didn't want to do. Stories on the internet of a girl being forced to "service" a dozen guys were just that, stories. Those were not swinging parties. Swinging is a consensual thing. The "service" parties were usually male fantasies, and if there was a girl present, it was because she wanted to be, or was being paid enough money. There's a very good reason those. I like sitting around talking mostly. After a while the music changed to disco with the BeeGees and I saw my friend on the dance floor with two or three ladies around him.A woman dressed in a sexy white dress came up to our table and asked to join me.You can never hear with loud music so I beckoned her to sit.I pointed to my drink and she put her thumb up.I beckoned the waiter and he took my order for food and drinks. The music died down and my friend returned to the table with one. I stand up to observe my surroundings.Nearly the instant I arise, I hear a loud metallic clang and am knocked down again. The spear is snapped. As I look up, I see a man dressed in full Hoplite armor. I roll backwards and feel around my waist. My hands grasp around another handle. A sword, about three feet long. Without thinking, I unsheathe the blade. It seems to glow in anticipation of the coming slaughter. There is writing on the handle. It intrigues me, but there is no time to read it. I.