TEQUILA

by Eliza
elizawpg@shaw.ca

CATEGORY/RATING: Helm/Marta, maybe PG13 this time for general bad behaviour.
LEGAL STUFF: They don't belong to me (Thank goodness!), Fireworks Entertainment has got 'em. No copyright infringement intended. No money made.
FEEDBACK: I'm not sure if I want to know this time.
DEDICATION/BLAME: It was brig who first mentioned tequila and gave me the idea for a series based on various alcoholic beverages. But I can't let her take the blame for this silliness, this one is all my fault.
SUMMARY: Won't even try to explain it. Fifth in the series.
NOTES: For those people who like all the details, tequila connoisseurs, and people, like me, who cringe at the term "California Champagne". I know that the Doc and Marta are not drinking tequila but mezcal. Here is the differences as stated in:

Tequila:
In search of the blue algave
http://www.georgian.net/rally/tequila/

Mezcal... Also the generic name for all spirits distilled from the agave, as well as the name of a regional beverage, similar to the tequila, but made mostly in Oaxaca state. Technically tequila is a form of mezcal in the same way cognac is a form of brandy and is sometimes called "mezcal de tequila."

It was late, just past sunset, so Doctor Helm was startled when the door to his office flew open. What was even more surprising was the fact the Marta marched through it and slammed it behind her. She seemed annoyed.

"Anything I can help you with?" Helm was a smart man and had retreated to the other side of the room while scanning for sharp objects within Marta's reach.

"Probably not, you don't kill people anymore do you?" From anyone else Helm would likely have been enraged but from Marta, at this moment, it seemed a perfectly natural question.

"No. Was there someone you had in mind?"

"Senorita Maria Teresa Alvarado." Marta said the name of the person dearest to her with a sneer.

"Oh." Helm was a very smart man.

"That's it? No questions, no smart remarks, no trying to convince me that she was right or commiserating with my situation?"

"Which of those would you like from me?"

"None of them. You don't have any more of that bourbon do you, Doctor?"

"I dropped the bottle," Helm said as he started a search for something in one of his cupboards.

"Idiota. "

"It happens, but I did get this as payment the other day." He pulled a cloudy bottle from under a pile of bandages. " It was this or chickens. I'm not sure what it is but I think it's made locally."

Marta uncorked the bottle and sniffed the contents. One whiff was enough as she moved hastily back--that smell was unmistakable. "It's made locally all right. It's fermented agave, tequila it is called. Nasty stuff. You have a glass?"

They downed the first two glasses without much comment other than the grimaces at the taste, the third Helm withheld. "Out with it. You didn't come here just to drink my alcohol."

"No, I came here to seduce you."

"You are making a poor start of it. What brought you all the way into town?"

"Tessa and I had a disagreement." Marta reached for the glass. Helm held it out of range.

"Don't insult me. I could see that by the way you opened the door. What has made you so angry that you went riding through the desert at sunset?"

"Don't want to talk about it." She grabbed at the bottle. He got to it first and put out of reach as well.

"You wouldn't have come here if you didn't want to talk about it."

Marta saw that his stubbornness would likely outlast her avoidance. She sat back in the chair with a pout. "Tessa said that I have been slinking around like a cat in heat. Things went down hill from there."

Helm gave her back her glass and the bottle. "This was a bad thing? Don't look at me like that. I have a stunning woman sitting across a table from me, in my house, getting herself drunk, and I'm not supposed to think that the thought of her behaving like a cat in heat is a good thing." Helm paused, realizing his logic was getting a little fuzzy.

"You're right. It's not a good thing. You're going home."

"And if I don't?" Marta was starting to feel the effects of the tequila and was not in the mood to be told what to do. Helm was also just drunk enough to wonder why he was being a gentleman. They simply stared at each other and both realized that the time had come to stop playing games.

It was at this moment that the door opened and in walked the Queen of Swords.

Helm was on his feet. "Why the HELL doesn't anyone ever knock on my bloody door!"

The Queen was slightly startled, this was obviously not the reception she had expected. Unsure of the next course of action, Helm and the Queen just glared at each other.

Marta had no doubt as to what should be done. "Go on Robert, knock the little tart on her ass."

Helm hesitated a moment too long and found himself looking down a length of sharpened steel.

"You will be the death of me, woman." It was the Queen's sword at his throat but he was looking at Marta as he spoke.

"Not yet, and then likely only a little one," said Marta.

"Marta!" The Queen removed her sword and stared at the other woman. For someone who looked at true death so often, she was easily shocked. "Senorita Alvarado will not be pleased to find out what you have been up to tonight. She is very worried."

"You can tell Senorita Alvarado to go..." Helm had moved toward Marta the moment the sword had been removed. He now quickly covered her mouth before she could say something she might regret. He was about to speak to the Queen when he stopped and looked down at Marta in surprise. She was running her tongue down the length of the finger covering her lips.

Helm looked at the Queen and pushed Marta into her arms. "Get her out of here. From this point on I take no responsibility for my actions."

"That is not a very gentlemanly attitude, Doctor," commented the Queen as she steered Marta to the door.

"I am not in a very gentlemanly state of mind or body at the moment. Out!"

"You're drunk," said Marta, remembering another conversation -- "If I do get drunk it is on your beauty," he had said.

Helm nodded. "Very drunk. Go home, you likely won't remember this in the morning."

"Oh yes, I will. It's a family curse. A gypsy family curse." Marta called out the last as the Queen dragged her out the door.

Great, I'm stuck with a gypsy family curse now. No, that wasn't right. She is the one with... Hell. Where did I put the bed again? Helm had fallen into a chair as the door closed behind the women. Once he stopped pondering Marta's comments, he realized he was rubbing his hand, running his thumb along the line that Marta's tongue had taken. Yes, a gypsy curse, without a doubt.



THE END