PONDERINGS OF A WEARY DOCTOR

By Susan
susn_89@prodigy.net

Beta'd by MnD

RATING: PG

SUMMARY: Doctor Helm and the Queen spend the evening together after the demise of the Serpent.

SPOLIERS: Brief allusions to Death to the Queen and, of course, The Serpent.

DISCLAIMER: Much to my chagrin I do not own the lovely players in the QoS, various corporate entities hold that honor. (If I did there would be more of the good doctor!) No harm is intended and no money is made by my little foray into the world of the Queen.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is my first venture in the realm of QoS fan fiction. Feedback is appreciated. My tale picks up after Helm and Montoya's little discussion. Thanks MnD for betaing!

~~~~~

"Serpiente!" There came a shout and the rushing sound of air as the dagger plunged into the heart of the bandit. One word and a man was dead. Sure, he was an outlaw and a killer, but was that cause enough to die? Hell, if that were the basis on which to die, his own actions would have signed his death warrant years ago. Where was the line to be drawn? Who was just enough to pronounce sentence?

Robert Helm looked out his office window and pondered his questions. The slide back into old habits would be too easy. He had worked too hard to bury that part of him, he'd be damned if he would let it happen again. The good doctor wished he had the answer to his questions, but even after all these years, the answers eluded him.

If he was completely honest with himself, his discomfort came more from the fact he had savored the feeling of the dagger flying from his hand, killing the Serpent, than that he had actually killed the man. The adrenaline had hit him like a drug; his senses were on overload. God, he missed that feeling -- the overwhelming presence of power settling over his body like a favorite cloak.

Then just as quickly, the guilt came rushing into his brain. What right did he have to sit in judgment of this man? Or had it been judgment? His thoughts as he threw the knife had been of saving the Queen and nothing else. Damn, that woman had a way of getting underneath his skin.

After his discussion with Montoya, he had beaten a path to the stable that housed his horse. Hurriedly, he saddled Equis and rode out of the pueblo. Reaching the outskirts of the tiny town, he urged the equine into a gallop. The galloping horse carried the doctor further away from the scene of his transgression. While his horse raced across the landscape toward the seashore, Robert Helm was able to banish the dark thoughts.

The sun slowly sank into the horizon, painting the sky in vivid reds, oranges, and golds. Robert slowed the horse, knowing the poor beast was exhausted. Spying an inland cove, he pulled Equis to a halt. This place was as good as any, he thought as he slid from the saddle. Tying his horse to a nearby piece of driftwood, the doctor undid his bedroll and tossed it to the ground. There was his bed for the night, now for a fire.

Before he headed off in search of wood, he unsaddled Equis, sensing the horse would welcome the relief. Patting the horse, he went in search of fuel for his fire. His search proved fruitful and he whistled as he trekked back to his campsite.

"Well, Equis, it's just you and …." His words trailed off into the night as he realized he was, in fact, alone. "Bloody hell!" He shouted to the world in general and to himself in specific.

The horse seemingly didn't share his desire to spend the night under the great wide open. "When it rains, it floods," he muttered as he stacked the firewood near his bedroll.

Digging a shallow pit into the beach, the disgruntled man set to building a fire. Soon the cheery flames blazed, lighting the darkness that surrounded him. In his rush to leave, he had neglected to pack himself some dinner. Truth be told, his stomach was twisted in knots from the afternoon's events and couldn't be trusted to keep its contents down.

Thinking a walk along the shore might calm his restless spirit; he slipped off his boots and socks. Discarding his vest and jacket, he rolled up his sleeves and strolled off into the dusky night.

~~~~~

Evening mass concluded, sending the tiny chapel's occupants streaming out into the warm air. Vera captured Tessa's attention, relaying her latest decorating schemes for the Hildalgo hacienda.

"I should think the next ship will bring the material I ordered from Madrid, Tessa," the senora informed the woman walking beside her. "Perhaps you could lend me your Marta to help with the sewing, no?"

Tessa Alvarado's attention was no longer on the talkative blonde, but on the rider-less horse standing near the stable; one that looked very much like Doctor Helm's horse. There was the doctor's horse, but where was the doctor?

"Tessa?" Vera questioned, noticing her friend's attention had strayed.

Tessa decided she had to check out this puzzling situation for herself. She knew Doctor Helm was positively obsessive about the care of his horse, so why was it left unattended outside the stable? Something was amiss and she was just the person to solve the mystery.

"I am so sorry, Vera. This terrible headache is driving me to distraction," Tessa apologized as she rubbed her temples for good measure.

Marta, following at a discreet distance behind the younger women, knew Tessa wasn't being honest with Vera. She, too, had observed the doctor's abandoned horse. Still, her mistress always had a good reason for any deception, so she played along. "Tessa, perhaps you should see the doctor about these headaches that have plagued you."

Vera, a borderline hypochondriac, quickly agreed with the gypsy woman, "Oh, yes, Tessa, you really must. After all, the doctor is here to see to our needs."

Tessa cast her eyes downward to hide her mirth. She couldn't help but wonder to what sort of needs Vera was referring. 'Stop it, ' she silently chided herself. "Come, Marta, let's see the good doctor."

Senor and Senora Hidalgo made their goodbyes and walked to their carriage while the two women of the Alvarado hacienda crossed the dusty street. The townspeople hurried to their homes, paying little heed as the women let themselves into the doctor's office.

"Doctor Helm," Tessa called into the office, her voice echoing off the bare walls. Trying again with the same response, Tessa turned to Marta. "Well, it looks as if Doctor Helm left in a hurry."

Various articles of clothing and books were strewn across the cramped space that served as the man's living quarters. Remembering her other trips to his home, she knew he usually kept it tidy. Today it looked like a tornado had touched down. Hmm, a lot like Doctor Helm lately. From the outside everything was in order, on the inside things were churning violently. The man had secrets and did a fine job hiding behind his own mask.

Marta interrupted her thoughts. "You can't just rush off after him, Tessa. He is a grown man."

Tessa threw her head back in defiance, "Maybe I can't, but the Queen sure as hell can. I just want to make sure he's alright."

The visions she had of the Doctor assured Marta he did a very good job of taking care of himself. After these years with her young charge, the older woman knew it would be futile to argue with her once her mind was set.

"Your papa was right. You are stubborn," Marta chided with a grin.

Securing the office, Marta went to fetch the carriage while Tessa took care of the abandoned horse. Before the sun finished it's descent, Marta was back at the hacienda and the Queen was tracking the doctor.

~~~~~

The cool ocean water rushed up the sand to lap at the toes of the man strolling along its edge. Finally he was beginning to find some peace. Now maybe he would be able to think more rationally about the events of the day. Tired from his walk, he trudged up the beach. His bedroll beckoned him and gratefully sprawled across it, using his saddle for a pillow.

A weary sigh escaped his lips, revealing the depth of his exhaustion. He did so hate it when he got contemplative, losing himself in memories and feelings better left alone. His head told him it was a waste of time to rehash events he could never change, but his heart ached from the weight of his guilt and remorse.

War was a complex beast. He had suffered and killed for his country. At one time he was proud of his sacrifice and gloried in the feeling of fulfilling his duty to the Crown. He had risen quickly up the ranks and soon was a trusted spy in His Majesty's secret service.

Caught up in the emotions of war, he performed like a good solider, until one day on a bloody battlefield he looked around in the chaos and saw not the enemy, but someone's father, brother, husband, or son. Men trying kill him, bound by their own honor and duty; men who were fighting for a cause they believed in. Each side was a sick reflection of the other, a perverse mirror image. In the midst of the raging battle, Lt. Robert Helm had promptly emptied the contents of his stomach onto the blood-drenched ground.

From that moment on, his outlook changed, although he was still bound by his duty to serve his country. He bided his time and waited for the horror to end. A stroke of Fate or Luck ended his tour earlier than anticipated. Not questioning the reason, he left the army and his country, never sparing a backward glance.

Of course, his family was outraged at his decision. His father threatened and yelled, promising to disinherit him if he left the country. The middle son had long ago lost any respect or love for the man that fathered him. His brothers were aghast at his defiance. His mother had tried to change his mind, but it was time to be his own man and forge his destiny.

Today, as he and the Queen rested on the rocks, he realized that it was the first time he had verbalized his feelings since he left England. Why had he chosen that particular moment to reveal himself, and to her of all people? He admired her sense of justice, trying to help her people during trying times. She was the most remarkable woman he'd met, as he so succinctly informed the spoiled young Senorita Alvarado.

Fierce and passionate were two words that came to mind when he thought of the Queen. A woman full of life was intoxication itself to a man who felt dead inside.

When she had kissed him, she had ignited a fire inside him he hadn't felt in years. He had been shocked at her boldness. Shock had soon turned to desire as her lips pressed against his. Damn, if tried hard enough he could still taste her kiss.

Lost in the remembrance, he failed to notice he was the object of the Queen's intense observation. She was relieved to see he was in one piece. Her mouth quirked as she took in sight of his lanky body stretched before her. The man was insufferable at times to be sure, but God he was easy on the eyes.

"Good evening, Doctor Helm. I see you've lost your horse again," the Queen teased.

Not expecting visitors, the doctor sprang to his feet in surprise. Seeing the black clad figure standing in the shadows, he cursed silently. Her! Again! "Must you sneak up on me every time?" he bit through clenched teeth.

"Guilty conscience?" She stepped from the shadows into the firelight. "I thought you might like some company." Poking at the fire with a piece of driftwood, she stoked the flames higher.

"You thought wrong, your highness," he replied as he resumed his position on the bedroll. "Don't you have some peasants to rescue?"

"Nope." She settled next to him, vying for spot on the blanket.

The next several minutes were awkward silence. Tessa knew without a doubt she could out wait the man beside her. She would let him be the first to speak. As Marta has said earlier…she was stubborn.

Robert closed his eyes. Maybe if he ignored her she'd go away. Peering at her from underneath his lashes he reconsidered. She didn't appear to be in any rush to leave his presence.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked hoping she'd move along and leave him alone.

"Nope." Once again she was silent.

Moving to a sitting position, he ran his fingers through his hair. His level of frustration had risen dramatically since her appearance. While he pondered his next move, he noticed she had brought a bundle with her. 'Egads, please tell me she's not planning on staying here tonight.'

Tessa noted the strain in his features and relented. "I thought you could use this," she told him, handing him one of the bottles from the bundle.

Helm took the bottle and pulled the cork from it and gave it a taste. The whiskey burned a path down to this stomach. "Thank you."

Taking another swig from the bottle, he watched his companion. The firelight did nothing to detract from her beauty. She seemed content watching the flames dance merrily in front of her. She could stay as long as she was quiet, he reasoned. And she brought him the good stuff, so why let it go to waste?

Tessa snuck covert glances at the man seated oh so close to her on the blanket. He looked exhausted and just a little bit flustered. What memories plagued him this night? Her heart ached for him and she wished she could pull off the mask and comfort him, but the doctor had shown little tolerance for the spoiled brat she portrayed so realistically. 'Maybe I should have taken to the stage instead of the sword,' she thought.

Robert was thoroughly engrossed in the bottle of whiskey, so she continued her observation unnoticed. The cooling night air ruffled his hair. 'He could use a haircut. I wonder if it is as soft as it looks.' Tessa giggled softly at her thoughts. And his ever-changing eyes glowing in the night, which was what she had first noticed about the man.

She remembered the first time they met in the town square. He had reached for the last apple in the barrel at precisely the same time she had. Shocked that he hadn't relinquished the coveted fruit, she quickly opened her mouth to protest. She was taken aback at the obvious ecstasy the solitary apple was bringing to the rude man. The lovely hazel orbs closed in total rapture, the lips savoring the juicy flesh of the apple. Tessa had felt a tingle of warmth in her cheeks at his display. God knows, she had replayed that scene over and over in her mind on more than one occasion. She had protested to Marta the whole ride home about his lack of manners, but from the moment she'd met him, she was intrigued.

Doctor Helm was indeed a mystery. Time and time again, he had proven his skill as a doctor. Rank and class held no prestige with him. The lowliest peasant received the same care as the all mighty Montoya. He had no qualms about speaking his mind. He had saved her life on more than one occasion, at least the Queen's life anyway.

There was the quandary. He readily admitted to his fascination with the Queen, but thought little of Tessa Alvarado. How could she reconcile the two sides of herself to him? Would he be able to accept her for who she was or would he feel betrayed by her little deception? Life was so much simpler when she was just Maria Teresa Alvarado.

Helm drained the last drops of the whiskey from the bottle. A pleasant warmth had covered him as he sat on the blanket. The feeling wasn't due to the fire that burned in front of him, but from the fifth of the liquor he had consumed in a relatively short time. Oh, he knew that drinking didn't solve the problems at hand, however, it did take the edge of them. Besides, there were worse ways to spend the evening.

Rising a little unsteadily to his feet, he walked to water's edge and let the water wash against his feet. The wind had cooled the temperatures considerably and with it, his temper. Hell, the whiskey hadn't hurt any either.

Tessa followed at a discreet distance. He seemed a little calmer and little more relaxed. "Montoya's boasting about killing El Serpente."

A sigh escaped from Helm, he was feeling pretty mellow. Montoya was a braggart and he wasn't about to let the man ruin his calm. "So."

"He didn't kill him. You did," the Queen stated matter of factly.

"Does it really matter who threw the knife?" came a soft voice. "The Serpent is dead."

Tessa decided to change the subject, sensing the Doctor was dealing with the ramifications of the day's events. "I love the ocean, don't you? It has a way of making my problems seem insignificant."

Whether it was the alcohol or her close proximity, he wasn't sure, but he couldn't suppress a giggle. His foot lifted of it's own volition and showered the masked woman beside him. Both were surprised at his playfulness.

"Doctor Helm, you're drunk."

"I believe you are right. Was that your intention? To get me drunk?" His golden gaze raked lustily over her figure.

"How did you guess?" she retorted sarcastically. "Not only am I a masked crusader, but a seducer of drunken men. What a girl will do to fill her days."

Helm threw his head and laughed long and hard. "Indeed!"

A wicked idea crossed his mind; seducer of drunken men, eh? Well he could certainly help her in that area. In record time, he shed his shirt and pants. The moonlight played across his skin, showing every detail of his slender body. Throwing her a grin, he waded out into the water and dove into the waves.

Tessa stood in shocked amazement. 'Oh my God!' She was thankful for the mask the concealed at least part of her blush stained cheeks. Did she really just see Doctor Helm in all his glory? This evening was definitely bringing out a different side of the normally reserved man. A most attractive side she had to admit.

Breaking the surface, Helm shouted out to the woman on the beach. "Care to join me? The water is absolutely delightful."

Tessa didn't trust her voice to decline his rather tempting offer, so she shook her head. Instead she watched as he frolicked in the water like a dolphin. He grew tired of his play and headed into shore. Hoping to avoid blushing in his presence, she turned away as he retrieved his discarded pants.

"You can turn around now," he teased. "I hope I haven't offended any of your sensibilities."

Leaning over, he shook the water from his hair. Exhaustion and the fifth he had consumed earlier wreaked havoc with his equilibrium sending him falling on his bum. Tessa burst into laughter. Helm tried to scowl, but his own laughter soon joined hers.

"I think you need to get some sleep, Doctor." Reaching a hand out to him, she helped him regain his feet and led him to the bedroll.

Easing down on the blanket, he patted the spot next to him and repeated his earlier invitation. "Care to join me?"

Smiling wickedly, she replied, "Maybe another night."

Closing his eyes, he was soon fast asleep. Tessa pulled the blanket over his sprawled figure. Smoothing his damp hair, she leaned forward and kissed him softly. His features relaxed in peaceful sleep and the stress that plagued him was gone for the moment. Fingering a wisp of hair that curled against his neck, she whispered 'good night' in his ear and vanished into the night.

~~~~~

The sun had begun its ascent into the morning sky. Warm breath tickled against the sleeping man's neck, rousing him from a nice dream. In his semiconscious state he remembered last night's visitor. He had been rather inebriated last night, but hoped he would remember making love to the beautiful woman beside him.

Upon opening his eyes, the face that greeted him was not the one he expected. The beautiful brown eyes of Equis blinked at him and he nuzzled the prone man urging him to get up. Running his hands through his hair, he smiled. Sitting up he noticed the card lying on the ground next to his blanket: the Queen's calling card.

Pulling on his clothes, he saddled Equis and headed into town. He had needed last night. His problems hadn't dissolved, but they were manageable again. Tucking the card into the pocket of his duster, he once again thought of the fascinating woman he'd spent the evening with and smiled. For the first time in a long while, he looked to the future with anticipation.

THE END