10 CHALLENGE RESPONSES

TRIO: bullet, cactus, handkerchief

QUOTE: "To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom." - Bertrand Russell

QUOTE: "Don't worry, I struck you with the back of the sword...oh, sorry, this sword is double-sided." -Zerugadisu (Zelgadiss)

By:

Dea, Eliza, Jim, Jo, Julie, Lisa, Maril, MnD, Rodlox

By Dea

deaniera@prodigy.net

CHALLENGE: bullet, cactus, handkerchief

It was a scorcher of a day in Santa Helena. Not that most days weren't, but this day seemed hotter than most. A wind blew through the pueblo but it was hot and dry and carried with it the dust of a thousand deserts. Dr. Robert Helm stifled a groan as he opened his office door to escort a patient out.

"Your arm will be fine, Raphael," he assured the peasant farmer. "Try not to use it for a couple of days."

Helm knew that was a suggestion that would most likely go unheeded. The man couldn't afford to neglect his land and animals for even that short a span of time.

"Gracias, doctor. I will bring you a payment later today," the short, stocky man said, a smile splitting the sun-dried skin of his face.

"Don't worry about it, Raphael," Helm replied lightly.

"I will bring payment," the farmer insisted.

"Alright, you can bring it later," the doctor relented, knowing that the man's pride was at stake. "Good day, senor."

"Doctor," the man nodded and then disappeared into the growing crowd of villagers.

Helm watched him go then scanned the square, shading his eyes with his hand. He caught sight of two young children--brothers, judging by their appearance--who were in the midst of a great sword battle, long wooden sticks standing in for blades. He shook his head and sighed as the sight dredged up thoughts that these days seemed to simmer just below his consciousness. Why couldn't he simply get that sword-wielding woman out of his mind? Was that even possible anymore? So many things she did and said felt like a bullet through his heart. He'd been so much happier before he met her...hadn't he?

Swatting a small fly away from his face he went back inside the relative coolness of his office.

As the wagon neared the pueblo its driver became more and more nervous, fidgeting with the reins she held. Tessa Alvarado, a determined look gracing her lovely face, smoothed out her skirt with one hand and focused on the path ahead of her. She had made a decision. It had kept her up most of the previous night but she had finally come to a conclusion. She was going to tell Dr. Helm the truth about the Queen of Swords.

That morning when she'd risen and dressed early, informing Marta of her plans to go into town, the other woman had expressed her desire to accompany her young charge. Tessa had convinced her that she needed to go alone. Marta had seemed suspicious--even a bit worried--about Tessa's clandestine reasons for venturing into town but she had kept her comments to herself.

She spent the last leg of her journey deep in thought. What would Dr. Helm say? Would he believe her? He would after he saw the evidence she'd brought with her. Would he be surprised? Of course he would! Angry? She hoped not. Sometimes he could be as prickly as a cactus. She'd held back on this decision for so long now, she wasn't sure at all how he'd react. But she just knew she had to tell him. Their last meeting had convinced her of that. And once he knew the truth, they'd be free to explore the feelings they had for each other. Tessa couldn't contain a smile at that last thought.

When she reached Helm's office, she pulled up on the reins and brought the horses and wagon to a stop. Clutching a white linen handkerchief tightly in her right hand she approached the closed door. She brought up a hand to knock, paused and then simply pushed it open.

"Dr. Helm?" she called out.

Helm emerged from his small bedroom to see a familiar guest in his office.

"Senorita," he greeted genially. The last time he'd seen her he'd ended up with smashed tomato all over his hands. Even though there was no fruit within her reach this time, he still decided to play it safe. No jokes, no jabs. No comments about not knocking on the door. Just a simple, straightforward doctor-patient conversation. "What can I do for this morning?"

For a moment Tessa couldn't find her voice. She just stood there watching as he casually went about cleaning and storing various medical instruments, the uses of which she couldn't fathom. This was it. She was going to reveal that she was the Queen.

Steeling herself, she said, "Dr. Helm I need to tell you something.Something very important."

"What is it?" he asked, not looking up.

"I'm the Queen of Swords," she declared in a clear voice.

"Of course you are, Senorita Alvarado," Helm replied easily as he continued to work. "And I'm El Zorro."

"I'm serious, doctor!" she said, impatience creeping into her voice. How dare he not believe her! "I am the Queen of Swords! Me...spoiled little Maria Theresa Alvarado. I dress in black, carry a sword and ride through the pueblo fighting for justice against Colonel Montoya!"

Helm started to laugh. Then he stopped abruptly. "Senorita please."

"You don't believe me?" she challenged and prepared to play her trump card. "Do you recognize this?"

Unwrapping the handkerchief she carried, she presented a black lace mask for his appraisal.

"What is that supposed to be?" he asked, forehead creasing slightly.

"It's exactly what you think it is," she said quietly. She brought the mask to her face and held it in place, watching him for his reaction.

He turned from her, took a few steps to his left, stopped and looked at her again. He looked like he might start laughing again. But he didn't laugh. An unidentifiable expression crossed his face too quickly to name. Then his eyes became dark and hard. The muscles in his jaw clenched. When he finally spoke, it was in a voice so deep it nearly rattled her bones.

"You lied to me." It was impossible not to see that he was now addressing the Queen. "Since the day we met, you've done nothing but lie to me."

"Doctor, please understand--" she started but he cut her off.

"What's to understand?" he replied, his voice now laced with defeat. "I am such an idiot!"

"You're not--"

"How could I have been so stupid!" he asked no one in particular as he began pacing. It was clear he wasn't going to allow her to speak right now. Impatiently running a hand across his face, he raised his voice once more. "Not only did I not know that you and Senorita Alvarado were one and the same, I was also too dumb to realize that you were lying to me all this time! For God's sake...you even played them off each other!"

Tessa was confused for a moment until he continued.

"That day you accused me of being vain," he elaborated. "Not an hour later, Senorita Alvarado was telling me how honorable I was, and that anyone who called me vain was callous! Oh I'm sure you had a real laugh over that one! Especially when I let it slip how I felt about the Queen."

"I did not laugh!" Tessa pled. "When you said how you felt about me...the Queen...I was so shocked. I never would have believed you could feel that way about me. It was then that I knew I felt the same! I didn't want to lie to you, but I had to. It was best for everyone--"

"For everyone or just you?" he accused. Grabbing the black lace from her hand, he spat, "I wish I'd never seen this vile thing!"

"Please don't say that," Tessa said, squeezing her eyes shut tight for a moment. "This is my destiny, can't you understand that? None of this was meant to hurt you...or anyone else that I love..."

The doctor seemed to pull himself together. The stony look on his face proved it. Handing the mask back to her, he said, "I think you'd better go, Senorita Alvarado."

Senorita Alvarado? He wasn't talking to the Queen anymore.

"Doctor, I--"

"Please just go," he repeated as he turned his back. Without facing her he added in a very businesslike manner, "If you've a medical emergency please feel free to come by, but if not I think it's best if you don't come back here."

Tessa was speechless. Of all the reactions she had never expected this. Okay, she expected he might be angry, but... He'd completely dismissed her. To him the Queen of Swords did not even exist anymore. And he'd put a canyon-sized barrier between himself and Senorita Alvarado. She felt faint. She'd faked the feeling many times but this was real. Instantly regretting her decision, she clutched the mask so tight that her fingernails pierced the skin of her hand. She couldn't even feel it....

"Senorita Alvarado? Are you alright?"

Tessa's head snapped up at the voice and saw Dr. Helm looking at her worriedly.

"I'm sorry?" she mumbled, confusion causing her to take stock of her surroundings. She stood just inside the door to Dr. Helm's office. He was at a table, cleaning some of his instruments...

"You said you had something important to tell me," he reminded her. She didn't look too well. Could it be the heat? Maybe he should have her sit for awhile.

Tessa shook her head a bit to clear it, a strange mix of regret and relief flooding through her. "No, no it's nothing."

"Are you sure? Would you like to sit down a bit? Do you need some water?" he asked as he crossed over to where she stood slightly swaying.

"No, doctor, I'm just fine," she insisted as she finally regained her equilibrium.

'Madre do Dios!' she thought. 'Might that really be his reaction if I told him the truth? Or is my imagination just working overtime? Can I risk it? No, heaven help me, I don't think I can!'

"What did you need to talk to me about?" he prompted, casually crossing his arms across him chest.

"I just wanted to apologize for the tomato incident," she replied after a slight hesistation, forcing her tone to remain light. "That was a bit uncalled for."

Helm smiled.

"Don't worry about it," he said, waving it off with a hand. "I'm not entirely sure I didn't deserve it."

Tessa managed a small smile as she nodded and then turned toward the door. "I really must be going now, doctor. So sorry to have bothered you."

"No bother," he said as he followed her.

As Tessa pulled open the door she suddenly came into contact with Raphael, who was cradling a live chicken in his arm. Already flustered, she was startled and ran straight into him.

"Lo siento, senorita!" Raphael exclaimed. "I'm sorry!"

"It's alright," she replied, as she quickly righted herself. "I wasn't looking where I was going. If you'll both excuse me?"

With that she hurried to where she had left the wagon. Climbing up she grabbed the reins and signaled the horses. She suddenly had an overwhelming desire to get home. She needed to talk to Marta.

Helm examined the payment Raphael was offering with a wry grin. He thanked the farmer for his gift and watched as he returned to his family waiting in the square for him. Peering at the bird he now held, he said to himself, "I'm sure it will taste wonderful. As soon as I can bring myself to kill it."

He was about to take it around back when he noticed something fluttering in the breeze beside his door. Crouching down to look at it, he inhaled sharply as he realized what it was. A black lace mask. Reaching down he picked up the delicate bit of material in his hand and shut his eyes. When he opened them again it was to stare in the direction Tessa Alvarado had gone.

END

By Eliza
elizawpg@home.com

Helm was brought out of his musings on the mysteries of the night sky by a movement on the edge of his vision. A movement in the shadows -- of a shadow -- a dark shadow with a splash of red.

Why does she wear that sash? She may as well be holding a torch, thought Helm. But even with the snide comments running through his mind, his heart soared. He had started to believe he would never see her again. Then he saw Montoya. The colonel was following the shadow, but not too closely. He seemed to already know where she was going. Helm decided to bring up the end of this little parade.

It ended at the jail. As he reached the door, Helm heard voices. The first was the Queen's but he couldn't make out the words. Montoya's answer was clearer. "Thanks to you, we have found the weak link in the garrison's chain, and that link will be... replaced.

"Always merciful." The Queen's sarcasm was poisonous.

"I consider loyalty a greater virtue. The schedule please, Senorita." Helm heard the cocking of a pistol. "Now."

Helm heard the rustling of paper then the Queen ask innocently, "Why are you so sure I am a 'senorita', Colonel?"

"Because a husband would be keeping you very busy during the night."

Helm heard the sharp intake of breath from the Queen and he stepped through the doorway behind the colonel. He knew that all she would need is a distraction to escape, so he put his finger in the middle of Montoya's back saying, "I think we have one more pistol than necessary in this room, Colonel." He met the Queen's eyes and she gave him a small smile.

That small distraction was also all that Montoya needed. He pivoted, his gun now pointed at Helm's chest. "But my pistol is primed, Doctor."

There was the sound of steel and the Queen leaned over Montoya's shoulder while resting the blade against his throat. "Why don't I remove both of them and save us a great deal of trouble," she said, obviously annoyed with the whole line of innuendo. She took possession of the gun and quickly disarmed it.

Keeping the colonel at sword point, she swung open the door of the cell. "If you please, Colonel," she said with a slight bow.

Montoya sighed, but walked into the cell without resistance. "I will not be here long. The guard will be by soon and whatever information you have gleaned from your glance at the delivery schedule will be useless."

"With no one in the jail, why would there be a guard? You won't be able to warn anyone until morning and by then it will be too late for the first shipment. That's enough for me." She smiled at the Colonel. "I'm not greedy."

She then turned to Helm. He couldn't read her expression, but it made him a little nervous."And Doctor, what brings you out this time of night?"

Honesty is usually good. "I saw you and the colonel skulking about and I decided to help you handle the situation."

"You decided. Mmmm hmmm. And what made you think I needed help handling the colonel? You know, Doctor, you should really try asking for a change before you start deciding for me. I seem to recall a similar statement coming from you, have you forgotten? I think you need a little time to reflect on this." She had the cell door open again and Helm was so stunned by this change in demeanor that she easily shoved him into the cell. It wasn't until the door shut with a clang that Helm came out of his stupor.

What the Hell!?! Don't get mad. Be charming, Robby. "I apologize if I overstepped my bounds. I was so pleased to see you again that the thought of you getting hurt clouded my judgement. I had hoped that you would welcome the assistance... even coming from me." Self-deprecation. That's usually a good choice.

The Queen was about to drop the keys on the desk but instead approached the cell. She came forward and rested an elbow on a cross bar, then she set her chin in the supported hand. Helm took a step toward her, smiling, certain she was going to let him out. She gave a small sigh and a smile appeared that became positively wicked. "Sleep well, gentlemen." Before Helm could react she was gone, the keys left in plain sight on the desk by the door.

"But... How could she... What did..."

"Relax, Doctor." Montoya sat on the end of the narrow cot, his back against the wall. "She was quite right. No one will be by until morning."

Helm went to the window. "We could shout..."

Again Montoya cut him off. "And have the whole town know that I have been locked in my own jail. I think not. As for you, you would have to explain why the Queen of Swords, the so called defender of justice, locked you in here, too." Montoya smirked. "What did you do, Doctor?"

"I didn't do anything. I haven't seen the woman in over a month."

Montoya chuckled, "Maybe that is the problem."

Helm glared at that insinuation. "No, she wasn't annoyed when I first came in. But she was certainly angry by the time she left." Helm sat down on the other end of the cot in an imitation of Montoya's pose.

"She wasn't angry when she left. To me, it seemed as if she was quite pleased with herself."

"Don't rub it in, Montoya."

~~~~~

Helm went over the encounter, moment by moment, and could not see what had prompted the Queen of Swords to throw him in the cell. Montoya must have been thinking about it too, for he commented, "You impress me, Doctor. More then once I have seen you face down the barrel of a gun; more then once that gun was in my own hand. I have yet to see a flicker of fear, a moment of concern for your own life. To have the freedom to perform such heroic deeds, like the one tonight, without a second thought, should be most attractive to that woman."

"The sign of true courage is to act in spite of fear. I don't see the fact that I don't fear my own death as being particularly admirable."

Montoya looked at Helm out of the corner of his eye. "But to conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom."

Helm sat quietly, thinking about the words, then said, "I can't place the reference. Who said it?"

"I did." Montoya smiled at Helm's incredulous look. "These things just come to me."

"Uh huh."

~~~~~

There was silence in the cell for what seemed like hours. Montoya had closed his eyes. Helm wondered if he had fallen asleep sitting up on the end of the cot.

"What is on your mind, Doctor?" Montoya opened one pale eye to catch Helm studying him.

Helm decided that since they were stuck here he may as well get Montoya's opinion. "I though you might be able to enlighten me as to why I ended up here. You know more than you are saying, Colonel. And since you managed to get yourself affianced to..."

The look on Montoya's face conveyed Tessa's answer to his proposal as clearly as if he had spoken the words. "If you are looking for insights into a woman's mind, you are asking the wrong person."

Again, there was a lengthy silence, until Helm felt compelled to say, "I'm sorry."

"I sincerely doubt that."

END

Vera watched as Montoya came down the stairs from his office, right into the path of Tessa Alvarado. She waited for the look, the touch, all of the indications of an attraction. What she saw was sudden stop and polite bow from Montoya and a polite nod from Tessa. She barely slowed her progress across the square and he remained focused on his destination, the cantina. No lingering glances, no extended greetings, no.... "Captain Grisham." Marcus will know what was going on.

"Good morning, Senora Hidalgo." Grisham was looking particularly smug this morning.

Vera lowered her voice. "Marcus, what is wrong with Colonel Montoya? He is behaving strangely."

"Yes, he does look like he's at the end of his rope, doesn't he? He spent the night in the jail."

The grin, though attractive, was not the response Vera was looking for. "He barely acknowledged Tessa this morning."

"Oh, that. She refused his proposal. Yesterday was a very bad day for the colonel."

Vera was losing patience. "Tell me, Marcus." She hit him with her fan, discreetly.

"He was going to see her for her answer last night but she beat him to it and sent him a letter. It arrived just after lunch. He read it -- twice -- stuck a knife through it, then burned it. When I asked, all he said was that there would be no Senora Montoya in the near future. I didn't see him again until I let him and the doctor out of the jail this morning." The grin became a snicker. "I always thought that to keep Tessa he would have to chain her to the bedpost."

Vera gave him a disgusted look for his crude choice of words. She would have pursued the matter further but she felt that they were attracting attention so she ended the conversation there. "I am glad that you are having such a good day so far, Captain. I hope it continues so."

"And good day to you, Senora." He winked at her before walking away.

So, she has refused him and was heading in the direction of Doctor Helm's office. I wonder what had happened, thought Vera as she followed the path that Tessa had taken.

She slowed her progress as she heard voices and found a spot out of sight of the doctor's doorway. The voices were easy to recognize - Helm and Tessa.

"Senorita Alvarado, I have spent the whole night locked in a jail cell. I am not in the mood for guessing games."

"Locked in the jail? Why would Montoya put you in jail?" Tessa sounded very concerned.

"He was in there with me."

"Really!" Tessa's disbelief almost caused Vera to laugh out loud.

There was a pause and Vera fought to keep herself from looking around the corner to see the doctor's expression. "Really. Courtesy of the Queen of Swords."

"The Queen of Swords? The woman, that you find so exceptional, locked you up with the colonel? What did you do to deserve that, Doctor?"

"I'm not quite sure. But it seems, like most exceptional women, she has a temper." Vera could hear that Helm's patience was wearing thin.

"And you have no idea what you did to make her angry?"

"Not a clue. Now, is there something I can do for you?" Helm's impatience was becoming obvious.

"Nothing urgent, Doctor. I'll come back later."

"Good. Good day, Senorita." And before Tessa could reply there was the sound of a closing door.

Vera walked away from her listening post, not wanting to run into Tessa quite yet. She wanted to find out more about the Colonel's proposal, but she had to think about everything first. Montoya and Tessa were back to being polite, if a little more distant than before. There was no more reason for Helm to take an interest in Tessa so he had returned to his usual manner. Vera sighed, "It seems as if, for all the fuss, nothing has changed at all."

END

By Jim
zankoku1946@yahoo.com

TRIO CHALLENGE: Bedpost, knife, and rope

DISCLAIMER: The characters are Fireworks, et al. The story is mine. The challenge is Maril's. It's her fault.

RATING PG 13 Mention of death Ok so it isn't G

~~~~~

Vera was wrong. She missed the visit to Tessa's and the picnic with Grisham. Gaspar was so tender and methodical that Vera was completely overtaken. Gaspar made love to his wife and after a short respite, Vera made love to him. It continued this way for four hours. Lovemaking, rest, et cetera. Then they were totally spent.

"Gaspar, that was wonderful. It has never been that way before." She cooed into his ear.

"Never forget my pet that I love you more than life itself. I know it bothers you that we don't have children. It is I who can not give you those. I had an injury when I was younger. I recently spoke to Doctor Helm and explained my injury. He examined me and confirmed that I would never father a child. If it could be fixed, it would be done."

"If you want a child of your own, you can see other men, but I ask you to be discreet. Remember who your husband is and where you live."

"Oh, Gaspar, you are the man I love, and somehow I know we will have children."

"Vera, there is also another way. Doctor Helm told me a sad story. A young girl, I believe was fourteen, found herself with child. First she tried to cut her wrists with a knife, but was stopped. She then got a rope and hung herself. She was found barely alive and she died in childbirth. She never said who the father was. This happened a couple of weeks ago and the Church is taking care of the baby."

"Poor child, what does this have to do with us?"

"The child need a mother and a father. If you agree, we could bring this child into our home and raise it as our own. The decision is yours, my dear,"

Vera sat down on the four poster bed and leaned against the bedpost. A child to raise as our own. O Madre Mio, please give me a sign, she prayed silently.

As she sat on the bed and looked out the window, she saw a little boy in the garden climbing a tree, picking apples and handing them to his mother.

"Gaspar, you a kind, loving, generous and beautiful man and yes I agree. When can we bring the child home?" She said kissing and hugging him.

"Don't you want to know whether the child is a boy or a girl?"

"It doesn't matter, this child will come to us from God and what more fitting that we should accept the child from the Church. Can we go now?"

"We could, precious, but I think we should put on some clothes first, don't you think?" He said as he pulled her to him again.

END

By JoLayne
enyajo@aol.com

It's still rated G, probably.

~~~~~

From the last part:

Grisham paced in deep thought, making plans. Then he stopped. He had done the exact same thing that morning and had done an extremely foolish thing. He looked toward the bed. He didn't see the comatose Colonel, as he had while there were others in the room. What he saw was a slight smile on the Colonel's face that slowly grew. The Colonel opened his eyes, squinted with what must have been massive pain, and stared up at him. "So, Grisham. How do you plan on escaping with your life?"

~~~~~

With those words from his superior that he had stabbed to kill, Grisham felt as if his head had lifted off his head and was floating out the window. He looked toward the window and saw Doctor Helm lifted Senorita Alvarado's hand as she stepped into her carriage. The Colonel had been faking his amnesia! "Um," Grisham uttered. "Well... um," he continued, scratching his head. The he mumbled, "This is troubling..."

He was at a loss of what to say, so he would just roll with the flow. "Sir," he said to Montoya as Montoya slowly sat up, holding the bedpost for support. At that moment, Grisham had intense respect for the Spaniard. He had seen Montoya deal with almost impossible tasks and had always come out smelling like one of his prized roses in his courtyard. The big knob on his forehead, where Grisham's hilt had made contact, was deep red with a splash of purple. He had been stabbed in the side, but Montoya was slowly rising to his feet. The Colonel stood straight, even though Grisham knew it had to hurt like hell.

"Would it help matters at all to say that I am sorry?"

Montoya's hand clamped onto Grisham's shoulder, making the American jerk in surprise from the strength that came behind it. "It would help," Montoya said. "But I doubt that it would change the situation."

"Sir," Grisham said, thinking he would beg, plead, and beg again for his life.

Montoya smiled and softly pointed his finger to his face. "That is good. That is a start. I am Sir." Montoya shook his head with anger. "'Have you lost your marbles'? 'Dealing with a full deck'? Yes, Capitan, I remember Reyes, and I am not the devil." Then Montoya backhanded Grisham across the face. Grisham fell back on the bed and slid to the floor. He looked up at Montoya holding his jaw,

that could very well be broken. "I am only a man. A man... who outranks you."

Montoya sat on the bed and peered down to sneer into Grisham's ear. "Have you enjoyed being a Capitan, Grisham?"

Grisham tried to speak, but his jaw was on fire. Instead, he only nodded the affirmative. Montoya slapped him on the head. "No, you have not. If you had, you would not have done such a stupid thing." Grisham didn't want to look at him, but saw him straighten his dressing gown as he sat just by Grisham's shoulder. "I do not even have to pull the trigger to end your life. I do not even have to give the order to have you swing from the gallows."

Grisham looked up at Montoya as the Colonel paused as if to listen. "Do you hear that, Grisham? I believe that those are the foot steps of a certain Brit who does seem to want justice in everything in life. All I have to do is lay back on this bed and cringe in pain and tell the good doctor that it was you who stabbed me."

There was a knock on the door and Montoya answered, "One moment, please," in a voice that was full of pain, weak in volume.

They heard Helm say, "Very well," and he did not enter.

"You see, Grisham," Montoya whispered into Marcus' ear. "I could leave it to the doctor to order your confinement. He is a Lieutenant, never forget that. Yes, in the enemy's army, but insubordination is still insubordination. Attempted murder... is universal. Yes," Montoya smiled. "I knew there was a good reason that I chose that particular doctor for my pueblo. He has not been very quick to obey me, but he would not be able to control himself when he finds out what you have done."

Grisham stood, holding his jaw. He didn't like the grin on Montoya's face, like he had just opened the best Christmas present that he had ever received. Grisham knew he couldn't stay there and his mind whirled of all the possible places that he could hide, to get supplies for the long trip out of California. Vera! She would help him. She might even allow him to hide out in their hacienda for a few days.

All Grisham's plans were mute as Montoya laid back and said in a pain addled voice, "Doctor, please enter."

The door opened and Helm looked from Montoya pulling the blanket over his body on the bed to Grisham, who didn't like the turn of events. Helm asked, "Have you been out of bed, Colonel?"

"Only to test my strength, doctor," Montoya said, without taking his eyes off of Grisham.

Helm looked at Grisham's red and swollen chin. "What happened to you?"

"Well," Grisham said, causing his jaw pain. "I will leave you now."

Before he could make it out the door, Montoya yelled, "Guards! Take hold of that man. Do not let him get away."

Suddenly there were four guards who entered the Colonel's bedroom, but they didn't move to apprehend Grisham. Grisham smiled. He himself was there immediate superior and wouldn't do such a thing. He had to be quick. Helm asked, "What is going on here?"

Montoya raised his hand and said, "He... is to be held for questioning. Not in a nice cell, tied in the square." Grisham started for the door, but Montoya yelled, "Now!" then collapsed back on the bed. The guards snapped to attention and grabbed Grisham's arms and led him out of the bedroom. Grisham didn't say a word, he didn't fight them. He was caught and he would face the consequences, for the moment.

THE NEXT DAY

Montoya stood before his mirror wearing his best uniform. The black suit would be warm under the sun, but the gold brocade at his neck made him look stronger than he actually was. He had made a decision about Grisham's fate and wanted to look as official as possible, if not down right regal. It hurt to lift his right arm too much because of the stitches, so he turned to the waiting Helm. "Would you be so kind as to tie this for me?"

Helm walked to him and tied the ascot and tucked it into his jacket."Would you be so kind as to tell me what in the bloody hell is going on? Why has Grisham been tied to that post for over 24 hours? No food, I haven't been able to check his jaw. You're actually treating him as the enemy."

Montoya turned back toward the mirror and said, "Your army dealt with situations your way, I deal with them in mine." He made sure he was as presentable as he had hoped. "Very nice, Helm. Very nice work. You have tied an ascot or two in your life. When will you ever reveal what all you are?"

He didn't give Helm enough time to reply. He pointed at an ornate wood box and asked Helm to bring it to him. When Montoya opened it, the medal glowed when the sun hit it. Helm said, "Aren't you wearing enough military honors already, Colonel?"

"You can never wear enough when you need to make a point." Montoya took the medal from the velvet lined box, blew on it and rubbed it on his jacket. Then, while looking in the mirror, he pinned the golden star on his chest. After one more look in the mirror, he decided that he was ready.

"Stay here, Helm," he said as he walked to open the door.

"You shouldn't even be out of bed, let alone dressed and walking."

"Stay here." Montoya grabbed the dagger on the table before opening the door and walking out onto the balcony. His first sight was Grisham tied to the post. His head was hanging down, people were avoiding him, gave him a wide berth as they would pass by the post. Not only was he teaching Grisham a lesson, but if Montoya could treat the Captain that way, no one was safe.

It took great pains to walk down the steps from the balcony to the square, but he did it, head held high, a guard at each side. First a few, then slowly everyone in the square saw him and silently watched the Colonel descend the steps and walk toward his prisoner. As Montoya walked the length toward the post and Grisham, who hadn't realized what was happening. The townspeople averted their eyes from the Colonel and made tracks to get out of the way. In the back of his mind, Montoya had expected the Queen of Swords to try to free Grisham during the night, but then dismissed such a thought. Grisham was one who was trying to kill her, had blamed her for his own attack. Montoya smiled as he approached Grisham thinking that the Queen was quite happy that the Capitan was in the position that he was in.

When he stood before the bound Grisham, Montoya motioned for the guards to leave them. He stood straight with confidence as he looked down at the back of Grisham's head. Montoya nudged his head and Grisham lifted it. His lips were dry, his face was sunburnt, his jaw was still swollen, the ropes that held him to the post were tight. Grisham lifted his head and held it back, the post supporting it as he looked back at Montoya.

"Do you need something to drink, Grisham?"

Grisham stood silent, just how Montoya liked him to be. Montoya walked around Grisham and the post, then surveyed the faces that were semi-gathered around to watch. As soon as he made eye contact with anyone, they went on their way. "Did you have a good evening?"

Grisham kept silent. "Can you speak?"

"Yes, sir," Grisham whispered, then coughed from his hoarse throat, and looked only up at the sky. Montoya made sure that Grisham could see the knife in his hand, as Montoya cleaned under his fingernails with it.

"I can do one of two things, Grisham. I could plunge this dagger into your side, but sure you are dead, or I could let you go." Montoya stood close to Grisham and glared into his eyes. "Which would you prefer?"

"Take your best shot," Grisham said.

Montoya laughed. "You have two choices also." Grisham looked at him in confusion. "You can be loyal to me and work very hard to convince me that I can trust you once again, or you could desert your post."

"Or I could be dead. You forgot that one."

"I forgot nothing. A dead Grisham is a useless Grisham. You have tried to take my life twice. I have every reason to run this blade into your body. You know that, I know that. Everyone in the pueblo knows that, but they do not know what you have done. That is, unless you have told them. Are you that stupid, Grisham?"

"I asked you yesterday if you enjoyed being a Capitan. Ambition is a marvelous quality for a man to possess. But you have gone about it all wrong. Do you not comprehend the plans that I have made. All the plans had included you. If I would rise, you would rise also. Ambition is one thing, stealing a promotion is something else all together. I thought I was making myself clear, Grisham. You offended me. For that, you will not die. You will not be a martyr for these people. You will work hard to be the perfect soldier and earn my trust. You are demoted. Be loyal, obey your superiors, do your work, and maybe one day, you'll reach Capitan once again. If I do not reassign you first. Do you understand me?"

Grisham chewed at his dry lips and finally nodded. Montoya said, "I hear that the governor is going to make a appearance. You will not be seen. You will be in the middle of maneuvers with the other recruits when he comes to town. No one will know of your blunder, unless you tell them."

Montoya used the dagger to cut the ropes holding Grisham to the post.Grisham fell with a thud to the ground, dust swirled around him. Montoya turned around and yelled, "Helm! See to him."

He felt a hand on his shoe and saw Grisham's hand clamped on. He looked into Grisham's eyes, which had started to water and he was mouthing that he was sorry. Montoya kicked his hand away and stood back while Helm and two soldiers lifted Grisham and walked him to his quarters. Montoya's eyes fell upon Tessa and Marta, who were standing by their carriage, having watched from a distance at what had taken place. They both nodded with a smile to him. Montoya bowed his head in return, wondering how best he would deal with Senorita Alvarado, who he knew as a fact, was the Queen of Swords. He had seen her dressed as such in her home. What exactly he was doing at the Alvarado hacienda that evening, he couldn't say, it was fuzzy, but he had seen her.

It had been months since Montoya had stopped asking in frustration who the Queen was. Maybe he had known all along. She had stolen his latest shipment of arms just a couple of days ago. She couldn't have destroyed them, she probably hadn't given them away. She may have sold them to finance her activities. Montoya dismissed that thought. No, I would wager that she has them hidden somewhere.

Somewhere close.

He realized that he had been going about capturing the Queen from the wrong angle. Wanting to kill was too easy. It was the coward's way out of tight spots. When the Queen steals, he would just have to steal it back. She would learn, sooner or later, that no one could put one over Colonel Luis Montoya. He motioned to two of his waiting guards to come and quietly ordered them to scour the hills of the colony for the guns, so no one else could hear.

He didn't care how long it took, he would find his contraband. From now on, every movement his troops would make would know that she would appear. Let her do what she needed, then find where she stashed his things. Montoya smiled when he realized that he could drive her mad to steal from her, to teach her what it feels like. If someone was to be executed, they would be executed before the Queen could free them. The Queen would no longer be an issue. They would make every move knowing that she would arrive. Her life or death meant nothing. One day, Maria Teresa would marry and have children. She would tire of her 'work'. No more leaving things for others. She may even marry Montoya. He would begin the seduction as soon as he could stand without his side roaring with pain. But her eyes had been focused on the doctor yesterday while tending to his wound. Also this morning, when she arrived to see what she could do by way of nursing him, in the doctor's presence. He liked to think that she was so concerned because of him, but Montoya knew it was because his doctor was that irritating Brit. He didn't seem to even look twice at Maria Teresa, but Montoya knew that Helm was certainly smitten with the Queen. He would have to work fast before Helm realized that the two women were one and the same.

END

QOS Challenge Trio - Knife, Rope, Bedpost
RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: Don't own any of the Queen of Swords characters. Just playing. Also don't own any other copyrighted, registered, trademarked, certified or certifiable characters who might pop up.

~~~~~

"Doctor Helm! Come quickly! Captain Grisham is dead!"

The man behind the desk looked up from the desk where he had been poring over a large book. He held the pages open with a long piece of metal. "Somebody's dead, you say?"

"Yes, the Captain. In the hall."

"Oh. Well, I assure you, I've been here in the study all evening."

"Doctor, what does that have to do with anything? I need your help!"

"Actually, I prefer to be addressed as professor. 'Doctor' just seems so prosaic."

Tessa sighed in frustration. What was wrong with him tonight? "Okay, Professor Helm. Are you coming?"

"Your accent is charming, my dear girl, but I'm afraid you've got the pronunciation all wrong. It's
not Helm. It's P--"

"Whatever. Listen, If you're not going to help, I'll just find somebody else."

Tessa backed out of the room and went on through the house until she came to a set of double doors opening into a ballroom. Inside she saw a familiar figure wearing a ruby-red gown and dancing with an imaginary partner. "Oh dear, Vera. I'm afraid something terrible has happened to Captain Grisham."

"Something terrible? How sad. But who is this Grisham?" A confused look crept across the lovely
face. "And who is Vera?"

The situation was getting stranger. Why would Vera act this way? And since when did she start carrying a knife?

The beautiful blonde followed Tessa's eyes and smiled. "Do not be concerned about this, Senorita. It is just something I found here in the ballroom." With that, she threw the knife expertly, embedding it dead center in a pillar across the room.

Tessa bolted. When she reached the library, she entered cautiously and saw yet another familiar face. "Colonel? Is that you?"

The man looked up from his work and smiled affably. "Well, of course, who were you expecting?"

"I'm sorry. It's just that people have been very strange this evening, and I have distressing news.
Captain Grisham is dead."

"Dead, eh? Well, that is distressing. We can't just have dead bodies littering up the house. Where did you say it was?"

"In the hall."

"And how was he killed?"

"I... I'm not sure."

"Not sure? That is a most crucial piece of information. Was he shot? Was he bludgeoned? Was he
stabbed?" The Colonel paused and held up the rope he had fashioned into a noose. "Was he hung?"

"Er... What did you say your name was again?"

"Mustard. Colonel Mustard."

Tessa woke with a start. "Marta! Marta! I've just had the strangest dream."

Marta walked into the room wearing a gaudy blue silk dress. "What is wrong, dear? You've been making quite a lot of noise in here."

"It's just this dream I was having. And Captain Grisham was dead. And the Colonel and the Doctor and Vera were there, and they were so odd. And ... Marta, what's wrong? Why are you looking at me so strangely? And where did you get that hat? Are those peacock feathers?"

"You seem quite distraught, child. I'll bring you a cup of tea, just as soon as I return this candlestick to the dining room."

Tessa gripped the bedpost as tight as she could. "Noooooooooo!"

END

By Lisa
lisa_weston@csufresno.edu

I tried for smut- and angst-free. I really did. Unfortunately, THIS is what has been stuck in my head ....

So, WARNING. There is something of the erotic in here. And there's a little kinkiness as well. OK, a lot. (The trio is rope, knife and bed-post.) OK, OK, it's sick and very twisted, and weird in a metaphysical poetry/Counter-Reformation baroque way, which is probably even worse. If the title evokes some vague memory of an English Lit class, it's probably because I stole it from the end of John Donne's Holy Sonnet 14 ("Batter my heart, three-personed God"):

Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

Seriously. Rating at least PG. I apologize in advance if this pushes the envelope; you really may want to delete now.

Oh, and spoilers for "The Serpent".

~~~~~

Robert Helm stared up at the painting on the church wall. La Mano Poderosa de Dios, the Powerful Hand of God. He knew the prayer the townspeople made before it. "In the midst of my despair and anguish, O God, I beseech You to aid me with Your almighty power." But as much as he might hope to see it as they did, as a hand outstretched to offer aid and comfort, he could only see its rust-brown palm bleeding ever anew with the lives he had taken. And truth be told, sometimes he longed for it to strike him with its power, to punish him as a severe but loving parent should.

He could hear the sound of drums outside, and the roar of a crowd. What was going on? He stood up and walked through the chill silence of the dim and empty church into the harsh sunlight of the plaza.

There was to be an execution, he realized. How could he have forgotten that? The gallows had been set up, the populace assembled to see the malefactor pay for his crimes. Colonel Montoya had already taken his place, seated confidently, regally, in his throne-like chair before the scaffold, ready to dispense justice. Helm began to push through the crowd.

As he drew closer he could finally make out the identity of the criminal. The Queen? NO! He shouted out his denial and broke into a run, shoving out of his way the bodies which blocked him. No, he could not let this happen, not to her. She was innocent. Suddenly unobstructed he stumbled forward and fell at the Colonel's booted feet. "No," he cried again. "I'm the one. I'm the murderer."

"Indeed. So you are willing to take her place? Such self-sacrifice. Very well, then. If you are sure?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure." And suddenly he was on the scaffold, removing the noose from around her neck, cutting her bound hands free with a knife--her knife, he noted without amazement or wonder, the same one he had thrown to kill El Serpiente. Her dark eyes looked steadily into his and then, as on that afternoon, she cradled his face between her hands, leaned in and kissed him. He reached for her, to return her embrace, to kiss her as passionately and deeply as he had desired. He wanted to carry her kiss on his lips, branded into his soul, to whatever hell awaited him. But she was gone. Other hands than hers were binding him, dragging him to the post, forcing the rope over his head.

He looked up into the cloudless blue of the infinite sky. He should say a prayer, commend his soul to God, something. But there were no words.

"Are you ready to die for her, Robert?"

Montoya was on the scaffold now, one arm draped around the Queen, his hand resting with intimate, insolent possession on her hip. And she--his dark angel, his zealous virgin--

"Really, now, Robert. Do you think her virtue, her innocence were ever yours to protect? Such pride! And such self-delusion. Is it, after all, her purity you dream of at night? Or is it this?"

Montoya trailed a finger slowly and deliberately down the line of pale skin revealed where the black silk gaped above the tight lacings of the Queen's corset. He bowed his head and kissed her there, where her flesh swelled responsively beneath his tongue.

Helm closed his eyes. He felt the hemp press harshly against his larynx, cutting off any further cries. He choked, the last of the air paradoxically leaden in his lungs. He felt himself kick free of the earth . . .

And sat up gasping, clawing at his throat.

"Shhh. Easy now. It was just a nightmare." A lover's hands stroked his hair, then strong arms embraced him and drew him back into warmth and safety.

"Just a dream."

"Only that. I have you, you know. You're safe here." A soft kiss brushed his forehead. "Will it help to tell me about it?"

"I was being hanged. And I deserved it. I do deserve it. I've killed so many."

"And healed. Don't forget that."

"But I vowed never to take another life. And now I've killed again."

"Only to save the life of someone you care for, someone you would die yourself to protect."

"Someone I lust after. There's nothing sacred, nothing noble or honorable in that. The dream was right; I deserve to be punished." He looked up into the bright, beneficent eyes. "Punish me. Please?"

"If that's what you need."

Helm closed his eyes and willed himself to lie as still as death. He felt soft hands rearrange his body on the clean, cool linen. He felt his arms raised above his head, his wrists tied to the bed-posts with slender, silken ropes. He felt the first caress of the knife point tracing its path over his sternum, the sharp sting of it piercing his guilty flesh, the transient warmth of his life-blood trickling out in its wake. And he knew that all he had to do was ask, and healing kisses would follow. All he had to do was whisper a name. But he couldn't.

"This is a dream, too, isn't it? This isn't real."

"It could be, Robert."

He shook his head. Tears welled up behind his eyelids as he slipped back into a deeper, dreamless void.

He woke with the sun streaming in his window and the miscellaneous sounds of normal life faint but comfortingly obvious around him: the creak of the wooden wheels of the carretas, the rough cries of vendors in the plaza, and from somewhere the off-key voice of a woman singing as she went about her morning tasks. He got up, walked over to the basin and ewer on the table, and splashed cold water on his face. Another day. He looked into the small, cracked mirror on the wall; his eyes were red with weeping. He remembered, now, sitting in the shade of the cantina's veranda. Drinking a wine as red as blood, though apparently not, alas, enough to drive away the dreams. Forcing himself to keep vigil as across the open square the Serpent's body dangled, tied to the post with the hangman's rope, with the Colonel's knife plunged into his black heart.

THE END

By Maril
maril.swan@sympatico.ca

DISCLAIMERS; the usual
RATING: G

~~~~~

Marta's hand hovered uncertainly over the pieces, gliding over the Knight, then the Bishop and finally coming to rest on a pawn. She advanced it and settled back to watch Tessa frowning in concentration at the board.

The Queen's Gambit, Tessa mused. She thinks she can beat me twice with that one? The younger woman moved her pawn and gave Marta an impudent wink. I studied with a chess master and taught Marta this game. But her playing is so unorthodox, it is hard to know what she is planning. Like fencing against someone who has never been taught the finer points at an Academy. It puts you at a disadvantage until you figure out what they are going to do next.

The pieces continued to form a pattern on the board as each woman studied the other's moves and countered them. Finally, Marta advanced her Bishop down the board to a white square next to the Black Queen. "You probably thought I'd be afraid to do that," Marta said with a self-satisfied smile.

Tessa promptly took the Bishop with her Queen, and said cheekily, "To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom."

Marta moved her Knight into check position against the King. "To conquer fear is the way to get killed!" Marta retorted sharply. "Use your fear like a shield, and never let down your guard. When you lose your fear, you get careless. And then you die."

Tessa grimaced at losing the game. And wondered at Marta's words. While I'm supposedly giving her a chess lesson, she is giving me a life lesson. She suddenly laughed good-naturedly. "Your game, Marta. Shall we play again?"

END

By Maril

RATING: G (sorry, folks)
DISCLAIMERS: Fireworks, et al
TRIO: knife, rope, bedpost (you'll have to look real hard to find them though. <g>)

~~~~~

As the ship disappeared over the horizon, Montoya turned in anger from the English captain, and began to trudge his way through the damp sand back to his horse. Suddenly, his arm was pulled around and he stumbled. He whirled with his hand already going to his sword hilt. No one manhandles Montoya! His face was livid with fury as he glared at Wentworth, his pale eyes brilliant with malice as if he dared the man to continue holding his sleeve.

Wentworth dropped his hand but met Montoya with an equally malicious stare. "You've caused me lose my wife and my ship," he bellowed. "You owe me, Montoya, and by God, you'll pay!"

"I owe you nothing," Montoya said scathingly. "And if you touch me again, one of my soldiers will shoot you. Now, get out of my town!"

"How?" Wentworth said, a note of pleading entering his voice. "I have only a few reales in my purse. Thanks to you." More boldly, he added, "I will avail myself of the hospitality of your villa until such time as another British ship arrives to take me away from this accursed place. You owe me that much."

Many thoughts tumbled through Montoya's mind as he studied Capitan Wentworth. The Englishman was very tall and strong, and had a streak of viciousness that amazed even Montoya. And he is penniless, therefore desperate. The man is a thorough bounder, without scruples or morals. I can use such a man, Montoya mused, someone who is not hampered by a squeamish conscience. Grisham seems to be getting soft these days.

To Wentworth's surprise, the colonel said, "Never let it be said that a Spaniard is lacking in hospitality. Indeed, I would be remiss if I did not aid you in your time of need. Please accept my invitation to be my guest for as long as you wish." Montoya bowed curtly and continued toward his horse. He didn't look back, but assumed that Wentworth would follow as soon as he got over his shock. Yes, he thought as he climbed onto Salan, his Andalusian stallion, the capitan has some scores to settle here, especially with the Queen. I think we can work something out. He kneed his mount gently and cantered down the beach toward the pueblo.

***********

Montoya strode into his salon and found Wentworth, reclining on a chaise, and reading his favourite work on Napoleon. The idiot had bent the book nearly in half and the spine was now lined with visible cracks. The colonel took several deep breaths to control his rage before he spoke. It had been nearly a week since the sea captain had taken up residence in his villa and the complaints had been piling up daily. His servants complained of harsh and abusive treatment, the cook of his looting the larder at all hours. Even Montoya's stock of fine sherries and ports were badly depleted. It was time to set matters straight.

"Capitan Wentworth. We must talk. Your presence here has caused a severe disruption in my household. It is time for you to make some plans to leave, perhaps go to Monterrey."

"Listen, Montoya. Do you think I would stay in this flea-bitten excuse for a town if I had a choice?" Wentworth stood up, and moved near the colonel, towering over the smaller man. His imposing height always had a salutary effect on anyone who challenged him. But Montoya held his ground without batting an eye. Wentworth added, "Maybe if you lent me some money, I could take the next coach to Monterrey."

"Hardly, Capitan. That would be a very poor investment as I would likely never see my money again." Montoya stroked his beard and gave Wentworth a sly look. "However, there are other ways to get large sums of money."

The captain raised his eyebrows with interest. "What other ways, Colonel?"

"Capture the Queen of Swords. Dead or alive, she is worth five hundred reales."

Wentworth burst out laughing. He walked over the sideboard and helped himself to a liberal serving of Montoya's best sherry. He could almost feel the heat of the colonel's gaze on his back. He would love to plunge a dagger into me, but he's afraid. Afraid of the political consequences if anyone found out. "You expect me to risk my life to do your dirty work for you? Come, come, colonel. There are much easier ways to get back a fortune. Marry it, for instance." Wentworth turned quickly to catch the colonel's expression. Montoya was taken aback. The captain enjoyed his small victory as he sipped the warm liquor appreciatively.

"And whom would you marry, señor? Putting aside the fact that you are already married."

Montoya's eyes mocked the captain, and Wentworth bristled under that uncompromising stare. He answered with studied insouciance, "How about that Alvarado girl? She's got a large property and no man to manage it. And she's getting on in years. She'd be grateful for a proposal, I'm sure."

It was Montoya's turn to laugh. "Capitan Wentworth. You would not be the first to have that thought. And you will not be the last. She has had offers and turned them down. The woman is strong-willed and independent. Even I considered courting her, but I believe she has cast her eye upon our doctor. It would seem a futile effort to try to win her affections when they are already given to another."

Wentworth brushed the colonel's words aside with an impatient gesture. "It's obvious you know nothing about women. They want to be dominated by a strong man, swept off their feet by a man's passion. No wonder she turned them all down if they're all as faint-hearted as you." He swallowed a large gulp of sherry and returned to the sideboard to refill his glass. "Could I offer you some sherry, Colonel," he said with mock hospitality. With unbridled enjoyment, he watched the colonel's face suffuse with colour.

It took a supreme effort of will, but Montoya kept his temper in check. He would not be goaded into an argument with this barbarian. It was beneath his dignity. He smiled benignly. "By all means, Capitan, court her and win her if you can. There is, of course, the minor impediment of the current Mrs. Wentworth. How do you plan to overcome that obstacle to your future marital bliss?"

"Divorce. I'll file for divorce in Monterrey at the British High Commission. Shouldn't take long, especially considering the circumstances. Abandonment, adultery. Yes, I'll be free to marry again in no time," he said blithely.

"Personally, Capitan Wentworth, I think you will have a much better chance of catching the Queen of Swords than winning the affections of Señorita Alvarado. She doesn't like you. How will you convince her - put a knife to her throat, tie her with a rope to the bedpost?" Montoya paused as he considered that titillating image, then shook his head and laughed. "I would advise you to take my offer." Montoya left the salon and returned to his office, chuckling to himself. The arrogant fool.

************

Tessa was about to climb into her wagon when she suddenly felt a firm hand on her elbow. Turning quickly, she was disappointed, then annoyed to see Captain Wentworth smiling at her and squeezing her arm much too familiarly. She pulled out of his grasp and ascended without his help.

"Capitan, I thought you had returned to England. I am surprised to see you still gracing our humble pueblo." Tessa kept her tone light and her face bland.

"My ship has been stolen by pirates, Señorita Alvarado. You see before you the most pitiful of creatures -- a marooned sailor," he said ruefully.

Wentworth smiled into her eyes with an intensity that Tessa found disturbing. He leaned on her wagon with his arms very near her leg, and seemed to be intent on restraining her from going anywhere until he was ready to allow it. She found his imposition was beginning to vex her, and searched for an escape from his company that would not seem rude.

She tapped his hand lightly with her fan. "I am very sorry about your loss, capitan. I hope your fortunes improve in the near future. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some supplies to take back to my hacienda. Buenos tardes." Tessa took up the reins, but Wentworth continued to lean against her wagon.

He drew himself up suddenly, making Tessa aware of his unusual height. "Señorita Alvarado, may I call upon you at your hacienda?" He smiled ingratiatingly with an assured look in his eyes.

Tessa's brow creased in perplexity. "Why?" she asked.

"Why does any man call upon a beautiful woman?" He smiled again.

Her eyebrows drew down and her eyes narrowed as she realized what he meant. Her chin came up and she glared at him with a look that would freeze the sun. "You are asking to call upon me to give me your attentions? Are you not a married man?" she asked angrily. He touched her hand and stroked it gently. She pulled her hand away sharply.

"I will be divorced soon, and free to marry again. I have become quite smitten with you, my dear Maria Theresa. Why wait for the divorce? I can court you now, and then when the decree is final, we can marry."

Tessa was nearly speechless with indignation. From the corner of her eye, she could see Montoya standing only a few yards away, smirking in a self-satisfied way. "Capitan Wentworth. This is a Catholic country. We do not believe in divorce, nor can we marry those who are divorced! I find your brazenness both impertinent and insulting! Do not trouble me again!" With that, she slapped the reins over the horses and pulled away quickly, causing Wentworth to stumble. The dust from the wagon wheels spattered his clothes and made him cough.

From behind, Wentworth could hear Montoya laughing heartily. In a fury, he whirled on the colonel. "You knew about the divorce laws, didn't you? You could have warned me. Instead, you let me make a fool of myself!"

"Oh no, Capitan. You did that all by yourself." Montoya wiped his eyes delicately with his hands and smiled at the captain. "Now perhaps, you would reconsider my offer. You do have a score to settle with the Queen. After all, it was the Queen who helped your wife to escape and steal your ship."

-- Maril

RR me buckos <g> ??? Anyone want to add to this?

DISCLAIMER: They belong to Fireworks, et al. It's not my fault they act the way they do. <g>
RATED: G
TRIO CHALLENGE: bedpost, knife, rope

~~~~~

He was driving her to distraction! Vera fiddled with the tassel on the red velvet rope that held back the brocade drape around their huge four-poster bed. She sighed heavily and leaned against the bedpost, impatiently waiting for Gaspar to finish peeling the apple with his small clasp knife. He did it slowly and methodically, with total concentration, the way he did everything. It drove her mad to watch.

Seeming to sense her tension, he looked up and caught the vexed expression on her lovely face. He smiled affectionately. "Is there something wrong this morning, my petal? I must say, this breakfast in bed was a most pleasant surprise. What is the occasion?" He brightened suddenly. "Do you have some news for me?"

Vera looked away quickly and Gaspar knew he had erred. She was in a mood he did not recognize and now he had wounded her with the reminder of her failure to conceive. She was restless, he could see that plainly. There was nothing for a young woman to do on a hacienda other than care for children, and they had none. Not yet.

She drew a deep breath and said, "Gaspar, I think I will go visit Tessa this morning. I haven't seen her for a while." The brilliant blue eyes watched him as he considered this idea in his slow, deliberate manner. Outwardly, she was placid and composed, but inside, Vera was seething with exasperation that she needed his permission to go out, and had to explain where she was going. She had no intention of seeing Tessa, but had arranged a picnic with Marcus.

"Did you not visit Tessa only a couple of days ago, my dear? You must remember she has a hacienda to run, and does not have so much free time as other women." His eyes grew soft as they slid over the satin gown that clung smoothly to the curves of her body. Perhaps some gentle loving was all she needed. "Come back into bed, my pet," he said as he lifted the sheet invitingly to make a space for her.

Vera quickly calculated the time and decided she could still be there when Marcus arrived at their rendezvous. With a seductive smile she climbed into the bed and snuggled up to her husband. This would not take long and she could even stop in to see Tessa along the way. In case Gaspar should ever ask.

- Maril

(the smut metre hardly budged at all <g>)

By MnD
yuanne@aol.com

"Tessa, look!" Marta pointed in the direction of Beggar's Canyon. Tessa turned to do so and was just as shocked by what she saw.

"Christ!" A man with white paint covering his face and black clothing ran up to them, waving franticly and gesturing wildly. Marta frowned. "What is it." More gesturing. "No horses up there? No cattle in the ranches? Zero llamas on a mountain?" The strange man shook his head and turned to Tessa.

"Hey, don't look at me, I was just going to call on the Holy virgin for patience and help..." The mime repeated his actions, slower this time. "Er...rope? tying...? Yes? Okay...tying...sounds like....cup? bowl? ...vessel? yes? tying vessel? Oh...tying... ves...vestal? Tying...the vestal virgin? What? You're tying up the vestal virgin? No...okay, tying the vestal virgin to...a pole...a cross? a bed? a bed? a bed....post? YOU'RE TYING THE VESTAL VIRGIN TO A BED POST?!" The mime jumped back, and Marta never got to figure out just what he had been trying to say, because Tessa had pulled out a knife and was now stalking angrily towards the poor fellow. He took one look at the angry woman and bolted.

Tessa looked defiantly at Marta and sheathed the knife. Marta didn't say anything for a full minute, so Tessa began the conversation again. "He was....uh...sort of scary."

"To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom."

"Yeah? I'm still really confused."

"So am I." There was a long pause.

"Want some lemonade?"

~MnD
(not my fault it's like 3 in the morning or something...damnit i told my muse not to raid the wine cellar...)

By Rodlox
rodlox@hotmail.com

CROSSOVER....warning: uncontrolled use of cartoons may prove more detrimental than a Helm. :)

~~~~~

It was a typical day in Santa Elena. The sun was frying anything left out in the open, the birds were waiting for nightfall, and Tessa Alvarado was in Dr. Helm's office complaining of shortness of breath and heart palpitations...which hadn't been helped by the kiss he'd given the Queen the night before.

Just then, the peace and tranquility of this remote Mexican-Californian pueblo was shattered when the door to Helm's office was knocked open, and three black-and-white vaguely doglike creatures jumped in.

One of them was tall and slender, and wore a pair of pants. Another had on a red cap and a sweater and nothing else on his short little body. The third was a girl in a skirt, with a bow on her head.

"Hellllooo nurse!" the black-and-white dog-things cry out. Well, two of them.

"Actually," Doctor Helm replies, trying not to stare at the odd things that just barged into his office, "I'm a doctor."

With movements that certainly qualified as lightning-quick, the shorter of the two dogs that'd cried out put his arms over Helm's head, leaving a large bag over his head, and pulling his arms away lickety-split.

Feeling a little vulnerable, Robert Helm was then pummelled by lightweight bricks. Once they'd all fallen.

"What did you do that for?" Tessa wanted to know. Picking one of the bricks up, "And what is this?"

"That?" the taller of the criers answered. "That's styrofoam. Wakko, tell the nice lady why you dropped all those bricks on him."

"Dammit Jim," Wakko said, his voice deeper, "I'm a doctor, not a bricklayer!"

"Actually, my name is Robert," Helm replied.

Dot jumped into Robert's lap. "Can I just call you Mister Wonderful?"

Tessa started to stand up to give the doctor some privacy - suffering alone and all that - only to find that the way was blocked by the other two.

"Surely you don't think you're getting away that easily, do you?" Yakko asked.

"I think she does," Wakko replied. "And stop calling me `Shirley'!"

ONE HOUR LATER:

"I spy with my little eye," Montoya said, already hating this game...then again, after 57 continuous rounds of it... "Something beginning with the English letter B." The bar across the street where people tether their horses.

Wakko Warner looked all around, even pulling his eye out to look like and serve as a telescope. Putting his eye back right, he shrugged. "Is it," reaching into his little tiny bag, "this?" he asked, pulling out a strip of bacon.

Luis Montoya did not want to know how long the bacon'd been in there; though he was relieved at how small the bag was...up untill, after he shook his head No, the Warner brother pulled out a succession of objects. "Is it this, or this, or this...?"

Montoya stared at the pile growing steadily bigger. There was a side of beef, a beaver trapped underneath a sleeping bear, a bedpost, and a ship's boom being pulled out now.

Meanwhiles, Dot Warner was having fun with the rest of the pueblo's men. Fortunately for Vera, Gaspar was in Monterrey at the time.

"Well ride'em cowgirl!" Dot hollered, pulling Grisham in.

Marcus landed next to Robert. "Funny bumping into you here, captain," Helm said. "Come here often?" with the voice of one resigned to fate.

Dot came over and, without using a single not, joined the two ropes. "Let's go have some fun, shall we?" she asked them, leading them away.

"Um, aren't we too old for you?" Grisham asked.

Dot turned her head around - an inhuman act, more fitting an owl - and looked at the captain funny. "Actually, I was thinking of a game of hopscotch."

And even more meanwhiles still, Yakko Warner was having a card game with any cards he scrounged up in that magical fashion of his and his sibs. "Have any 7s?"

"Go fish," Vera said cautiously. The last time that'd been said - by Tessa - Yakko had run over to the horse trough and pulled out a 12-pound salmon.

"Ohh," Yakko said after pulling a card out of the pile and laying it flat. "A knife. I predict that tomorow, you'll have a ham sandwich."

It was Marta's turn now. Marta pulled her card, looking at it oddly. "What is it, Marta?" Tessa asked.

"Never have I seen such an object on any cards, Tessa."

"What? Lemmee see," Yakko insisted. Reluctantly, Marta showed him.

One instant, Yakko was perfectly calm. In the next, he was jumping from his seat. "SIBS," he hollered, "WE GOTTA GO -- NOW!!"

After whispering in Wakko and Dot Warner's ears, the three Warners left the pueblo in record time, pulling the cloud of dust behind them.

"What was the card, Marta?" Vera inquired. Marta showed it to her.

The Eraser.

From that day forth, nobody in Santa Elena complained about being bored.
~~~

NOTE: my next use of challenge items may prove a little more adult. {it also may introduce Marcus's sister - more competition for Tessa - genuine this time, not like with Yvonne}.