A WOMAN SCORNED
By Eliza
elizawpg@shaw.ca

CATEGORY/RATING: PG13
DISCLAIMERS: Not trying to take advantage, just want to play a little. Fireworks still owns 'em (I think). No money made, no copyright infringement intended.
NOTE: This is an episode that would take place in the QOS list AU. In this AU, Grisham and Vera have split (Jo's fault) and Helm knows who the Queen is and has started seeing Tessa. (Dea's world).

OPENING SCENE

It seemed as if they had been dueling for hours, in and out of the ruins on the cliff. It followed a familiar pattern of one gaining the upper hand and the other escaping to hide for a moment and catch their breath. They had been playing this game for far too long.

Finally, a mistake was made and the Queen of Swords managed to disarm Captain Marcus Grisham. She smiled at him as she pressed her sword to his throat. "You were doing reasonably well today, Captain. But then you should, now that you no longer have an outlet for all that excess energy."

She may have expected anger or resentment -- at least a pout -- but Grisham just smiled back. "I could say the same thing about you. Or is Dr. Helm managing to entertain both Your Majesty and Senorita Alvarado?"

She backed away until Grisham was only being held at bay by the sword point at his throat. Her expression was stony and her voice not as even as she likely wished it would be. "What do you mean?"

"Helm is courting Tessa Alvarado." Grisham's smile widened. "Didn't you know?"

The Queen shook her head, whether in response to the question or in denial of his answer, it didn't matter. The shock, confusion and hurt that passed across her face was plain to see, even with the mask. She backed away from the captain and Grisham was bemused enough to let her go. She eventually turned and sprinted to her horse, riding away like the Devil himself was behind her.

Grisham watched her disappear into a cloud of dust and then a clear illustration of his thoughts appeared on his face as well. It was a look that said that the captain had an idea.

CUE THEME AND CREDITS

ACT 1

Grisham had started doing the night patrol of the streets of the pueblo on his own. It had been three days since his last encounter with the Queen and he was sure that she was going to be paying a visit to Dr. Helm very soon. She may still be trying to figure out exactly how she was going to kill him.

Smirking at his own thoughts, Grisham paused at the stables near Helm's office. He could see light coming through the gaps in the door and could hear voices, now being raised in anger.

"I had to find out from Grisham!" It was the Queen and she was not happy, Grisham could see her pacing in and out of his line of sight.

"I didn't think that it had anything to do with us." Helm must be just out of his range of vision, but that was undoubtably his voice.

"Didn't think that you making love to another woman would have anything to do with us?!"

"Maria Teresa Alvarado is a lady!" Helm sounded shocked. Grisham muffled his snicker, even he could see that it was going to end badly.

"Ah. Now I see." The Queen was calm, far too calm. Grisham waited for the sound of her sword being drawn.

Helm at least had the good sense to be nervous. "No. You don't. Let me explain. . . ."

"I believe," the Queen cut in, "the saying is 'Why by the cow when you can get the milk for free.' Well doctor, this cow has gone dry."

Grisham moved quickly but only just made it past the corner of the building before he heard the slam of the stable door. The Queen almost immediately rounded the corner, drawing her sword as soon as she saw him. Grisham made himself relax, showed her empty hands and made no sudden moves. He surprised himself at the sincerity in his voice, when he said, "I know exactly how you feel."

The Queen just smirked. "Really?"

"About being more than welcome when the lights are out, but not good enough for the day. Yes, I can relate to that." Grisham was disgusted at the amount of pain in the last sentence; he hadn't meant to show that. However, it was that grain of truth that she must have recognized for she lowered her sword.

They continued to stare at each other for a long moment, until Grisham broke the silence. "I wish you sweet dreams, Your Majesty."

The Queen nodded, and the hint of a smile appeared. "A pleasant thought, Captain. Good night."

He let her slip away into the darkness.

~~~~~

Grisham was taking a well-deserved break late the next morning on the cantina's patio. He had a bottle of wine and an excellent view of the square from the corner table. Because of that, he could not help but observe the couple strolling in the square. Dr. Helm and Senorita Alvarado seemed to be getting along very well. Even though they were keeping a proper distance between them, they took every excuse to touch each other. He took her hand to help her avoid some crates from the supply ship. She playfully tapped him with her fan and then flirted behind it. He possessively placed a hand on her back as they waited for some carriages to pass by. Grisham managed a polite nod as they walked by the cantina and then around the corner to the store.

"You have fulfilled all of your duties today, Capitan? Your efficiency and initiative impress me."

Grisham managed not to wince at the familiar voice disturbing his relaxing morning. "I'm glad you think so, Colonel. Maybe this would be a good time to discuss a raise."

Montoya returned Grisham's insincere smile and sat in the other chair at the table. "I think it would be better to discuss the gold that you are accompanying to San Francisco tomorrow. Have you made all of the preparations?"

"Yes, Colonel. No banners, no uniforms, no sign that this is an official shipment."

Montoya leaned closer. "And no contact with any officials, including other soldiers. No one is to know about this."

Grisham met his stare calmly and nodded. "I understand completely, Colonel."

Montoya leaned back and took Grisham's glass but, after catching the bouquet of the wine, he set it back down. "I believe you do, Grisham. What a pleasant surprise." Montoya rose from his seat to return to his office. He looked back at his captain, then said, "Enjoy your afternoon off."

"Colonel," was all Grisham replied. If Montoya was going to sanction his loafing, he was not about to disrupt that altruistic mood in any way. He drained his glass, not noticing the soft rustle of silk behind him as Tessa Alvarado and Helm continued their walk.

ACT 2

Grisham awoke to cold press of steel to his throat and the warm pressure of a body lying on top of him. If it wasn't for the layers of blankets, he would be enjoying this. That was his first thought as he looked into the brown eyes surrounded by black lace. His second was that he was nude under the blankets, a fact that didn't contradict the first, but did make him feel a little vulnerable.

He cleared his throat, partially to test how close the blade really was. "Good evening, Your Majesty. Is there something I can do for you?" He tried to keep his expression blank, but he couldn't help the little grin that appeared as he said the last sentence.

"I could say that you have a one track mind, Captain. But I know that there are two," she said pleasantly.

Surprisingly, she hadn't hit him and had even moved the knife away from his skin. Grisham decided to play along. "What do you think the second is?"

"Making yourself worthy of Senora Hidalgo."

Just the sound of the name of she-who-shall-remain-nameless, set his teeth on edge. But he didn't want her to know how close she was to the mark. He managed to say evenly, "Senora Hidalgo is none of my concern."

"So the rumours are true. Very interesting." She shifted a bit so that she could rest her elbow on the bed and prop her head on her hand. "Is that why you are taking such a long and arduous journey tomorrow? You're running away from home?"

She was teasing but she was also looking for something. This could be the opening he was looking for. He wasn't going to give her information, but he wouldn't deny any of her guesses either. "And what do you know about my trip tomorrow?"

She started toying with the knife, turning it on its point over his chest, likely making holes in his blanket. "Oh, just that you're going to San Francisco, and that you will be going out of uniform, and that there will be gold." She looked at him, giving him his cue to continue with the story.

The first two facts were known to his men, but the gold, only Montoya and he knew about it. But it could just be an educated guess on her part. Time to put the ball back in her court. "I thought that you were no longer interested in stealing gold. You haven't intercepted a tax delivery in three months."

She managed to look coy, as coy as a woman can look, showing that much cleavage. "That was causing almost as much harm as good, and I didn't like hurting soldiers for a little bit of gold. I'm not a violent person."

He chucked at that and she smiled back. Then they both just looked at each other, neither willing to divulge anymore.

Finally Grisham's patience wore out. "You know, there are better things we could be doing while we wait for someone to say what is on both our minds."

"And what would that be?" She continued, even as he took a breath to answer, "What do you think that we are both thinking."

"What do you think that I think that we are both thinking?"

She rested her forehead on his chest and groaned, "Don't start that!" She had also taken to absently poking at the blanket with her knife in her frustration.

Grisham decided his caution wasn't worth getting stabbed over. "I think that we both think that this would be an excellent opportunity to stick it to Montoya and gain ourselves a little gold in the process."

She raised her had and looked at him consideringly. "I always thought that you wanted me dead for pride's sake. I didn't believe that the money would be that important to you."

"Do you really think that I like having to beg Montoya for a new pair of boots?"

"I wouldn't know. I don't know you that well, Marcus," she said sweetly.

Did she actually bat her eyelashes at me? "As you've probably guessed, this is not an official mission. It is Montoya's private business, his private fortune. The only one out of pocket is the colonel."

"It doesn't bother you to betray him this way?"

"My loyalty to him extends only as far as my pay. If your pay is better. . . ." He dared to loose one hand from the blankets and run a strand of hair through his fingers. She didn't hit him or scold him, but the look she gave him was enough for him to release the lock. "But we have to make it look good, or he will want me dead as well. Though, I still think he'd want you dead more."

She grinned. "Marcus, you say the sweetest things." She then proceeded to outline her plan. Using the knife to outline a rough map on the blanket, she asked for the specifics of the route and then they agreed what they would do.

The Queen rolled off the bed but instead of leaving, looked down at him and said very seriously, "Is it a full moon tonight?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"I must be a lunatic to be trusting you."

"Don't worry. I know the story of the golden goose. And I was thinking exactly the same thing. Should we seal the deal with a kiss?" Grisham didn't really think she would but it never hurt to ask.

"Don't push your luck, Marcus." But she was smiling as she said it.

She had taken a couple of steps from the bed when she turned back to him. The kiss was brief and light, but it was a kiss. Then she was gone.

~~~~~

Grisham tried to stop scanning the edge of the gully. The wagon he was accompanying carried only the supplies for the trip to San Francisco, the captain carried the gold himself. The driver of the wagon and the three other mounted guards were heavily armed - a rifle and two pistols each - as well as extra loaded firearms in the wagon. Montoya wasn't taking any chances. The taxes were one thing, but this was business. No one would recognize them without the distinguishing insignia of a uniform and they were out of sight, travelling below the horizon in the dry arroyo.

One of the outriders had stopped and was doing a careful visual inspection of a tributary wash.

"Do you see something, Corporal?" Grisham asked.

"No, sir. I just had a strange feeling. The secrecy of this whole trip is making me a little jumpy. Why are we going all the way to San Francisco?"

"I'm only following orders as well, Garcia. What little more I do know, you don't need to know. The wagon is getting ahead of us. Back to your post."

"Yes, sir." The corporal spurred his horse to take his place beside the team.

Grisham also took a long look into the smaller arroyo. The Queen hadn't told him where she was going to attack, to help keep his reactions honest; they had just arranged what would happen when she did.

Just as he was moving to rejoin the group, he felt a weight settle behind him. There was a length of steel at his throat but the hand reaching for his pistol gave his thigh a squeeze before removing the weapon from its holster.

"Gentlemen. Your captain needs your assistance." Came a familiar feminine voice from behind him.

The soldiers and the driver stopped and turned, all of them reaching for their weapons.

"No, no. Not a good idea. Not only could I kill the captain but you could kill him if you try to shoot me, and I will kill the first one to draw a gun. I can do it too, we all know what a fine weapon the captain has."

He could feel her silent chuckle at her own joke and he whispered, "Stop that. I'm supposed to be afraid for my life."

"I'm sorry, Captain. It was just too easy."

Grisham called to his men, "Do as she says. There is nothing here worth dying for." The men all seemed to agree.

"The gold," she called. "Bring it here."

The soldiers looked confused. Garcia replied, "There is no gold."

"I know there's gold, and I want it now." She took new aim at the wagon.

"Please, mi Reina. There is no gold, only the supplies to get us to San Francisco." The driver sounded panicked. All of the men were looking at Grisham for guidance.

He made sure his voice carried. "I have the gold."

"How convenient." She was also making sure that everyone could hear. "Slowly, Captain. I want to see it."

Grisham had secured the bags within easy reach, so it was only a few seconds later that he held one in each hand for the Queen and his men to see. He heard her whisper, "Perfect," and then he startled a bit at the retort of the pistol.

She had fired at the heels of the team. While the soldiers were momentarily distracted by the frightened horses, the Queen turned Grisham's horse down the smaller gully. After a brief sprint, she stopped the horse and gave the fired gun back to the captain in exchange for the gold. She tucked one of the bags in his shirt and then pushed him off the horse.

"What was that for?" Grisham fumed as he tried to dust himself off.

"Had to make it look authentic. Make sure no one will notice the extra weight in you jacket, Marcus. I've had fun today, I'd like to do it again." She kicked the horse into a gallop and headed down the canyon.

Grisham just watched her, momentarily bemused, until he heard the sounds of hoofs behind him. The first soldier to reach him had his rifle ready, so Grisham pulled it out of his hands to fire it himself. At this distance it would have been a difficult shot anyway but there was no point in taking any chances. The ball didn't even come close and neither did the pursuing riders.

ACT 3
"Do you have an explanation for this, Grisham?" Montoya leaned back in his chair and waited for his captain to respond.

"My training program is working. The Queen realizes that the guards are a danger to her and she backs off if luck is not running her way." Grisham was very confident. Even with the return of the Queen as a threat, she had not been doing nearly the amount of damage she had previous to her brief respite.

The colonel raised an eyebrow. "I believe that miracles do happen, Captain. But this is not one of them. I think that a more reasonable explanation is that her absence was due to injury or illness. For months, she only appeared when someone's life was in danger. Now she is only successful in half of her attempts to intercept my gold. She may still be recovering. She is cautious and weak; there have been markedly fewer injuries and no deaths. I am starting to wonder if Dr. Helm is worth his pay."

Montoya rose to his feet and walked over to his captain. "I am convinced that the only reason *any* of the gold has been taken is due to the incompetence of the guard. It is almost as if they are afraid to engage her."

Grisham opened his mouth to reply to that frighteningly accurate accusation but he was interrupted. "Don't bother with vehement denials, Grisham. They only make me believe that I am right."

Montoya continued past him and onto the balcony. Grisham followed. The colonel had summoned him for more than just the standard scolding -- something was up.

"Do you remember the letter I received in November, from my cousin?" began Montoya, conversationally.

"The one who was desperate to get away from his father and who wanted a job?"

"He wanted your job." Montoya smiled. "I find that familial affection is easier to maintain at a distance. He has sweetened the deal, however. I may have to arrange something for him."

Grisham was getting nervous. Could Montoya be firing him? No, the colonel wouldn't fire him -- kill him, maybe - but not fire him. "Did you want me to set him up as cook for the men?"

"An amusing thought. But no, the garrison has enough problems as it is. I will arrange something in San Francisco or San Diego - eventually. Right now, I need to take possession of the generous gift he has sent."

Grisham remained silent. He knew by now that Montoya's dramatic pauses did not require comment. The colonel's smile widened. "Gold. Enough gold to buy all those guns sitting in San Francisco waiting for my gold that never seems to arrive. I have arranged for the weapons and the remaining money to be transported here. I want you to send out reinforcements for the last leg of the journey. I don't want the Queen of Swords to even consider putting a finger on this shipment."

"Understood, Colonel." The tone was professional and respectful, and Grisham even considered coming to attention and saluting, but then Montoya would know he was up to something. As it was, he thought he caught a glimpse of a slight frown as he turned and left the office.

Grisham walked by the fountain and stopped, as if something had caught his eye. He went toward the water and surreptitiously removed a red handkerchief from his jacket. He dipped it in the fountain, as if it had been left there, and then hung it over the spout to dry. Then he continued to his office, to make arrangements for the protection of the Colonel's valuable delivery.

~~~~~

Eleven paces. His quarters were exactly eleven paces long. He knew this because he had been walking the length for hours - it seemed like hours anyway.

As he turned to pace the length of the room again, Grisham saw the woman leaning against the door at the other end. The shock of it actually made him jump. "I hate it when you do that!" Grisham said, as he leaned against his wardrobe for a moment.

"No, you don't." The Queen chuckled. "You love that surge of adrenaline getting your blood racing."

He was starting to believe that she became more beautiful each time he saw her. He couldn't help but let his gaze sweep the black clad figure. "I know of better ways to get the blood racing."

"You know better that to invite me here for that," she said, as she removed the red handkerchief from her corset and dropped it on the desk.

He did know better, but that never stopped him. Still, there was business to discuss. "How does gold sound?"

"Predictable." She smothered a yawn.

Grisham smiled at her dramatics. "How does gold and a wagon load of guns sound?"

"You've got my attention, Marcus." She started to slowly walk toward him.

Grisham wondered if her visits to Helm had started like this - a sudden appearance in his room, a little banter leading up to the purpose for the visit, then that slow stalk. Why would Helm give this up for that twit Tessa? The doctor must be an idiot.

"Marcus." The smooth alto broke into his thoughts. "You have my attention, but yours seems to have wandered."

Grisham grinned and gave her the details of his latest assignment. By the time he had finished, she was close enough for him to smell her light perfume, or maybe that was just her. He had become so focused on her physical presence, that he was a little surprised when she spoke. "Do you think you can arrange for the hired guards to start their return trip a day early so that the last distance is only under the protection of your men?"

"The whole point was to have double the guards in the Queen's territory." Grisham was rapidly losing interest in all the planning. He had a much more desirable goal in mind.

The Queen walked away from him and started pacing. Grisham slumped into a chair, realizing that he had no hope until the arrangements were settled. The sigh he let escape must have been louder then he thought, for she turned to him. At first there was a frown on the lovely face, but then it slowly changed to a smile. Grisham took that as a signal that all was right with the world. He left the chair to again stand close, almost close enough to feel the heat from her body. She looked up at him, and her lips were the most seductive he had ever seen.

"The extra guards are all hired in San Francisco," she said, just wanting confirmation.

"Yes."

"They have no loyalty to Montoya, no reason to die for their job."

"No."

"I need you to arrange for the driver of the wagon to be one of them. And make sure there are no other guards in the wagon. Then all you need to do is follow my lead. Can you do that?"

"Absolutely."

Grisham then put those lips to, what he considered, a much better use than talking. She had kissed him briefly, a number of times, but he was sick of the kid's stuff. He pulled her close and kissed her properly. She must have been caught off guard, because he was just warming up when she broke the kiss. She didn't fight the embrace though, so he decided to act the one that was confused. "Isn't this a cause for celebration?"

The Queen smiled indulgently, a little bemused. "We haven't done anything yet."

Grisham's grin was huge. "My point exactly." He kissed her again, and this time he was certain he felt her surrender, just for a moment. He was sure that he had felt that perfect body mould against his and those perfect lips welcome anything he wished to give. Then the moment was gone.

He, reluctantly, let her push him away. He knew that if he didn't she could cause some serious damage. However, she was still smiling as she gently scolded him, "You have a big day tomorrow, Captain. You will need all of that excess energy."

"And what do I do with all that excess energy when it is no longer needed for stealing from Montoya?"

She narrowed her eyes and the smile became sly. "I'll see what I can do to help you with that as well." She kissed him this time. It started lightly, as her hands captured his to place them on her hips. Then, she ran them up his arms and into his hair, to pull him closer, deepening the kiss. He should have known that surrender would not be the most exciting aspect of this woman. He felt her body fit itself against his, including a firm thigh that slid between his to provide a marvelous, but tortuously inadequate, amount of pressure. Then she pulled away.

By the time he had caught his breath and opened his eyes, she was gone.

~~~~~

The wagon load of weapons and money, along with its sizable escort, was less than half a day from Santa Elena. Grisham was starting to get nervous. If the Queen was going to go through with this, she'd better make it soon. He had finished this thought when he heard the rumble. Stones, gravel, small rocks poured down the side of the canyon to the floor, right into the trailing outriders. The team drawing the wagon bolted a short distance down the route, but was easily brought under control. The forward escort then went to help their less fortunate colleagues. A couple of riders had been thrown and a few were still having difficulty calming their mounts.

Grisham stayed with the wagon, but he kept his back to the driver while he watched the confusion. The slide was a distraction, so he made sure he was distracted.

"Now, now. You don't want to do that."

Grisham turned at the sound of a feminine voice just in time to see the Queen of Swords lean close to the driver and remove a pistol from his hand. He was cooperating because of the foot of steel at his throat. Grisham remembered what it felt like to have her that close and started to become envious of the driver. "The Queen!" came the call from one of his men. He realized he had better do something, so he drew his own pistol.

"So this shipment is worth a man's life. I had wondered. You seem to have extras today, Captain. That should have given it away," said the Queen. She had that absolutely adorable, smug little smile on her face. Grisham loved that smile.

"Colonel Montoya is not about to let anything happen to this wagon. The security of the pueblo is at stake. It is arriving in Santa Elena, no matter how many lives it costs." Grisham hoped that was what she was looking for. He drew back the hammer of his pistol for effect - and because he forgot to when he first raised it.

"Wait!" The driver obviously didn't approve of this line of thought. The shifting and muttering behind the captain informed him that the other hired guards weren't happy either. He finally caught on to what she had planned. His lips twitched in the flash of a smile and she gave the smallest of nods in return.

"I'm sorry," Grisham said to the driver. "But you were hired to do a job -- to protect this wagon and its contents. If that means risking your life, then you do it. If that means dying, then you do that, too."

He took a breath to continue his monologue but was interrupted by the sound of rifles being drawn, cocked, and aimed. "Captain?" said a small voice.
Grisham turned to see each of his men at the business end of a rifle. The leader of the hired men made a motion with his head, clearly indicating that Grisham should lower his pistol. "She'll kill him," Grisham insisted.

"No, I won't," the Queen called cheerily. "I just want the wagon. And if this gentleman would be so kind as to get me out of range of your rifles, then we will part company as soon as possible." She looked down at the driver, who was now in what looked like a casual embrace - except for the gun in his side. He quickly nodded his agreement.

"Go," ordered the mercenary leader. "If you fire your gun, Captain, it will startle us, and the rifles will go off," he said, as the wagon started down the canyon and quickly disappeared around a bend.

"The colonel will not be pleased that you helped her," said Grisham.

"Just as he will not be pleased that you didn't do your duty and risk you life and your men to save the shipment. You are the commander of this mission, Captain. It's your responsibility." The leader dropped his rifle and the rest of the men followed suit.

Grisham took a careful look at the man, whose accent was as American as his own, and then came to an irritating conclusion. "Let me guess, a lieutenant."

"A major. Field promotion at Buffalo."

"Figures," sighed Grisham. There was nothing worse than an ex-officer. He found them so difficult to threaten. "Didn't the British burn Buffalo?"

The ex-major narrowed his eyes at the thinly veiled insult, but before he could reply the driver came jogging back along the trail. Instead, he just said, "Well, Captain, what now?" He seemed willing to start following Grisham's orders again.

"Get after her!" Grisham yelled. "She may have the wagon, but that doesn't mean she has to keep it." He sent two patrols along the paths that led out of the canyon to the open plain. A third group followed the main road. The captain, himself, searched the box canyon that branched off from the main one - as arranged.

He expected to see some dust as he followed her, but maybe she was too far ahead on this meandering trail. It was only when he had reached the end that he started to panic. He didn't even hear the sound of hoof beats as he cursed at her, at himself, at the Dona-who-shall-remain-nameless.

Montoya and a small detachment arrived just in time to hear Grisham say, "Where the Hell did she go?"

"She?" Montoya was briefly stunned, and then quickly incensed. "You let the Queen take my guns?"

"I didn't let her take anything," Grisham snapped back. Then he started to realize the precariousness of his situation, he calmed and ran a hand over his face. "I was right behind her, Colonel. I saw her dust in the distance."

Montoya was nodding. "I saw the tracks and followed. And the rest of the men?"

"They are searching the other trails in the direction she was headed. With a wagon that size, she couldn't have gone far." Grisham relaxed a little; it looked as if he had done all that he could in the search for the Queen.

"And if you had missed her, and she left this canyon, she would have passed us. A complete mystery," said Montoya calmly. Then he focused his cool stare on Grisham. "Just like how she managed to acquire the wagon in the first place with sixteen men guarding it."

"She must be feeling better, Colonel." That was bad, Marcus.

"I think she had help." Montoya's voice was smooth and even, and sending chills down Grisham's spine.

Hold your ground, maintain eye contact, keep your voice normal. "Why do you say that?"

"I am here because of an anonymous tip. I think she had a partner in planning this raid, and he tried to betray her. We may yet find the body of the clumsy informer in the desert, for that is how traitors should be dealt with."

Montoya held Grisham's gaze a couple of beats too many for the captain's comfort.

~~~~~

The company rode into the garrison's square and Grisham instructed the sergeant to find some quarters for the hired guards. Grisham had a feeling that his conversation with Montoya was not over. He was right, for as they both handed their mounts over to the grooms, the colonel turned to him and said, "Captain, something has be preying on mind. I hope you can put it at ease."

"I will do my best, Colonel."

"Good. To your quarters then?"

It was an unusual, but not an unreasonable request. His quarters were closer. He had the feeling that wasn't the reason though, as he noticed that the two guards who had accompanied Montoya were still with him. When all four men were inside, the colonel said, "I would like to take a look in the strongbox that you keep under your wardrobe."

Grisham blinked once - twice - before answering, "Of course." He moved to the wardrobe, and removed the decorative toe kick. He tried not to give a hint to the weight of the metal box as he pulled it out and set it on the table. Even as he was opening the chest, he was trying to think of a way out of this situation without getting himself killed.

He was not looking in the box, but for an opening for escape, when he saw the smirk on Montoya's face as the colonel reached into it. "And what is this? A love letter?"

Grisham barely noticed the two other soldiers being dismissed, as his eyes kept moving between the strongbox full of rocks and the card that Montoya was holding. "Of a kind," Grisham managed to say. He took the card and saw the red kiss print standing out boldly on the light blue background of the tarot card designated the Queen of Swords. "I am an idiot," he whispered to himself.

"For once, Captain, we are of like mind. However, even without tangible proof, I have the feeling that you have taken advantage of my more than fair treatment of you."

Grisham was not up to dealing with Montoya's version of altruism. However, he did keep his voice low and respectful. "You've treated me like shit, sir."

"But I have always been honest about it." Montoya grinned, but he put his hand on Grisham's shoulder as he passed behind the captain on his way out. "Beware of those who offer you the moon, Grisham. It is very likely they expect you to build the ladder."

TAG SCENE

Outside the captain's quarters, Tessa Alvarado and Robert Helm slowly walked back to the main square. They smiled at each other, as they heard the door close behind them, informing them of the colonel's departure.

"You were right. That is the perfect place to spy on the captain," Tessa said, as took the doctor's arm.

Helm sighed. "I wish I had never found it."

"Don't tell me you're still pouting. You make it sound like I betrayed you." There was a slight tinge of annoyance in Tessa's voice.

"I don't want to ever see you kiss anyone like that again."

Helm's attempt at being sorrowful only brought out Tessa's cheekiness. "Then we'll have to start covering the mirrors, because I kiss you like that all the time."

Helm took a quick look around and then grabbed Tessa around her waist, pulling her into a shadowy alcove. As his lips descended on hers, he said, "And from now on I want them all to myself." She very willingly gave him what he requested.

CLOSING CREDITS AND THEME