YOU DON'T SEE ME

Disclaimer:  Queen of Swords characters and concepts belong to Fireworks Entertainment.  The lyrics used here are from the film "Josie and the Pussycats" and belong to whoever it was that wrote them.  I'm just borrowing them for the time being.

Author:  Shirley Long

Synopsis:  Just some thoughts from the good captain about his love life (or lack thereof)

Rating:  PG

Feedback:  Please

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PERSONAL JOURNAL OF MARCUS A. GRISHAM

MAY 2, 1819

Women--can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em, and you sure as hell can't shoot 'em.  Sometimes, I wonder why I even bother.  Not that there's any shortage of them in my life, mind you.  On the contrary, there have been quite a few women in this town who've had a turn at the reins, so to speak.  But most of them have been nothing more than meaningless putas who'll throw themselves at anyone with a few reales.  The ones I really want barely even know I'm alive, or if they do they only see me as a piss poor soldier who's only good for a roll in the hay once in awhile.  That's me all right--the perpetual back door guy.  The guy you use for a good hard screw and then toss aside while you return to your fat, old, and rich husbands, pretending that you're the faithful, dutiful housewife who would never dream of being with another man.

//This is the place where I sit This is the part where I love you too much Is this as hard as it gets? 'Cause I'm getting tired Of pretending I'm tough//

No matter how tough I may seem on the outside, truth is, it hurts.  Knowing that no matter how hard I try, no matter how far I move up in the world, I'll never be good enough for them; I'll always be "the other man" and nothing more.  I may seem like a heartless son-of-a-bitch, but I want the same things that the other guys have: a wife, children, and a place to call "home".  But that's just not in the cards for me, is it?  Hell, the only "real" woman I might have half a chance with is the Queen, but even she won't give me the time of day, unless it's with a sword positioned at my throat or...a far less pleasant place.  Though I'd never say it out loud, I think the Queen is absolutely the most amazing woman I've ever met.  All that fire...that passion.  Most women today have no spirit, usually 'cause their fathers beat it out of them at an early age.  But the Queen...she's like one of those wild mustangs that roam the plains.  Unbridled, unbroken, answering to no one's will but her own.  Finding a woman like that is like finding the Holy Grail.  But, alas, she doesn't see me anymore than the doņas do.  To her, I'm nothing more than an obstacle in the path of whatever missions she's set out for herself.  Even the bit of bonding we did when that mine collapsed on us didn't change that.  So, I'm forced to merely admire her from afar while still acting her enemy when we're close.

//I'm here if you want me I'm yours, you can hold me I'm empty and taken and Tumbling and breakin' 'Cause you don't see me And you don't need me And you don't love me The way I wish you would The way I know you could//

Ok, enough thoughts of the Queen.  What about the woman I do sleep with--Vera?  There's another one who doesn't really see me.  She may share my bed from time to time, but to her I'm the "other man".  No matter what I may feel for her, I know I can never truly have her.  Her heart (for reasons I can't imagine) will always belong to that fat oaf she married.  Honestly, I don't understand the reasons nobles come up with to justify such marriages.  I mean, the man is old enough to be her father, and from what I understand he's not nearly man enough to satisfy Vera's needs, which is where I come in.  I satisfy her fantasies by night, and by day she plays loving wife to that tub of lard.  Vera and I have developed an odd sort of friendship in the time we've been together, but it will never go beyond that.  As she told me once, "Lovers, they come and go; husbands are forever."  I don't know which is worse; having a woman you could have totally ignore you or knowing that a woman you do have is only using you to do what her husband cannot.

//I dream of worlds Where you'd understand And I dream a Million sleepless nights I dream of fire when You're touching my hand But it twists into smoke When I turn on the light I'm speechless and faded It's too complicated Is this how the book ends, Nothing but good friends?

'Cause you don't see me And you don't need me And you don't love me The way I wish you would//

Worst of all is Tessa Alvarado, the wealthiest, most beautiful, most eligible Doņa in the whole damned pueblo.  She's almost as beautiful as the Queen, though not nearly as intelligent.  Even so, marriage to her has its appeal, and it's more than just her money.  For me, it would mean I'd finally belong somewhere and finally be able to have all those things I dream about.  I could honestly see spending the rest of my life with her.  Unfortunately (for her), she doesn't even acknowledge my existence unless she needs something done.  It's like I'm not even there.  I couldn't even be her lover.  She's just too pure and innocent for that type of debauchery, and I wouldn't want to ruin that.  It's one of the most appealing things about her.  But the hell of it is, it's not even about class with her.  I mean, she spends her time making goo-goo eyes at the doctor for Christ's sake.  No, I guess my "bad boy" aura that putas and married lovers appreciate doesn't appeal to her.  So again, I'm left with nothing but dreams and wishes.  What a world.

//This is the place in my heart This is the place where I'm falling apart Isn't this just where we met? And is this the last chance That I'll ever get? I wish I was lonely Instead of just only Crystal and see-through And not enough to you 'Cause you don't see me And you don't need me And you don't love me The way I wish you would//

Through my window, I can see Vera heading this way, probably for yet another secret tryst.  Afterward, she'll be on her way and act as if nothing happened.  Wonder what game she'll want to play this time...pirates, maybe?  Or perhaps she wants to play matador this time.  God, I hate being so close to something I want, knowing that I can never have it for more than a few stolen moments at a time.  When will it end?  When will it be my turn?  Maybe, someday, the Queen will finally see more than an adversary when she looks into my eyes.  Or maybe fat-ass will finally keel over and Vera, after waiting the appropriate amount of time, will decide to turn whatever it is we have now into something real.  Perhaps Tessa will finally get over that damned Brit and see me as a worthy suitor.  Yeah, and someday pigs will fly and Montoya will turn into St. Nick.  Oh well, looks like Vera's ready.  Time to give her a quick thrill so she can go back to fatso satisfied.  Captain Grisham, back door guy, at your service.

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Breathing a sigh of relief at having finally vented all his pent-up frustrations, Grisham put the quill back in the inkpot and returned the journal to the secret panel in his desk where he kept it.  Once it was secure, he straightened his clothes, ran his fingers through his hair, checked his smile in the mirror, and went to greet Vera as she knocked on the door.

//'Cause you don't see me And you don't need me And you don't love me The way I wish you would The way I know you could//

THE END

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