CHALLENGE for the week of 06-03-01

TRIO CHALLENGE: salt, wooden crate, a pin

QUOTE: "Love is like an hourglass with the heart filling up as the brain empties." - Jules Renard

QUOTE 2: "Why do you need two coats when you have only one back?" -Gypsy proverb

Authors: Cecilia, Dea, Jim, Jo, Julie, Lisa, Maril, Rodlox

By Cecilia

RATING: PG for mild language (might even be a G given the things I hear in Prime Time.)
FEEDBACK: Please
DISCLAIMERS: I don't own them, I just like to play "make-believe" with them.

TRIO CHALLENGE: salt, a wooden crate, a pin (in one form or another)

(This takes place after Betrayed. There are spoilers here for anyone who hasn't seen it.)

~~~~~

Tessa flung herself down off Chico's back, her face flushed. "Damn," she muttered under her breath, "I did it again." Why does it have to be so hard? Every time he says anything about his feelings I panic. What am I so afraid of? She stole into the hacienda through the kitchen door.

Marta looked up from the pie crust she was making, taking in the younger woman's distress with a single glance. "Tessa, what is it? What has happened?" She set down the rolling pin and moved toward her charge, concern radiating from her eyes.

"Colonel Montoya had Grisham take the doctor into the desert to shoot him. The Queen rode to the rescue." Slumping into one of the hard wooden chairs, Tessa proceeded to fill Marta in on the details, carefully omitting mention of her inner turmoil about her feelings.

"Will the doctor be safe in town?"

"I think so, as long as he keeps quiet about what he knows. He will, for Vera's sake."

Tessa remembered the strange tone in the doctor's voice as he said that some loves were best left secret. She knew she had to talk to him, and soon. She stood up, feeling better now that she had reached a decision. "I think the Queen will go to town this evening to pay a call on the doctor and make sure everything is well."

Marta watched her speculatively without comment. There is more here than you are saying, Tessa. What is going on in that head of yours?

~~~~~

Later that evening, the Queen of Swords rode back toward Santa Helena under a thumbnail of moon. She was having second, and maybe third, thoughts about her present course of action. What will I say to him? What if I freeze again? No man has ever affected me like this before. She thought about Antonio. She hadn't been afraid of what she felt for him. It had been romantic, like a story. What she felt for the doctor was different somehow. If Antonio was a fairy tale, the doctor is what? Real? She laughed aloud at the thought, but it stayed in the back of her mind.

~~~~~

Robert Helm was bone tired. It had been a long, exhausting day. His aching muscles cried out for a bath, but he lacked the energy to heat the water and fill the tub. He sat at his small worktable writing in his journal:

...and so I will keep silent, for Senora Hidalgo's sake. Montoya and I have reached an "understanding" and I will remain in Santa Helena for the time being, keeping my mouth shut. I am so tired of it all, tired of petty would-be dictators, little tin soldiers and masked vigilantes. She did it to me again, today. I thought we might have a chance to talk, but she took off like the devil himself pursued her. Her actions indicate she returns my feelings, she's flirtatious and almost forward with me sometimes. It's only when I show a return of her interest that she runs. She can't be afraid of me? Damn the woman. I've never met a more frustrating, vexatious, fascinating, enchanting, remarkable female. She haunts my dreams by night and my thoughts by day. I hardly know her, but I feel a deeper connection to her than I ever did to Camilla. I want to know her hopes, her dreams; her likes and dislikes - everything about her. God, I'm a fool. Maybe I should just settle for her name.

At a soft noise behind him, he set down his pen and turned. His breath caught in his throat. My God, she is beautiful. The flickering lantern light only seemed to highlight the mystery and loveliness of the black-clad woman.

"Your majesty," he nodded. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Doctor." Her voice was soft and intimate, as always. "I wanted to make sure you were well, that there were no problems with Colonel Montoya or Captain Grisham."

"Colonel Montoya has apparently decided that as long as I keep quiet, I get to keep breathing." His voice betrayed his bitterness. "Grisham will obey as long as his master maintains a tight grip on the leash."

She watched him closely. He looks worn out and discouraged. She suppressed the urge to push a stray lock of hair back off of his forehead and run her hand down the line of his jaw. My God, he is beautiful. In the dim light, the hazel eyes seemed almost black. With a start, she realized they were taking on an amused expression. Wonderful, Tessa. Why don't you let him catch you staring at him?

He moved close to her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Why don't you tell me why you're really here?" he asked, his voice low.

"I didn't want to leave things the way they were between us."

He laughed shortly, without humor. "What way is that? With me looking at your back receding in the distance, yet again?"

"Yes." There was so much more she wanted, needed to say; but she didn't know how. She felt familiar panic begin to build and she forced it down ruthlessly. I need to say something. If I run now, he will never forgive me. "I'm sorry I left so suddenly. I don't know why I do that. I care for you, doctor. It isn't wise and it terrifies me, but I do." Now that the words were coming, there was no stopping them. "Hidden behind a mask it is easy to be adventurous, the Queen of Swords, afraid of very little. Sometime, when you get too close, I forget to be her - I'm just me, and things become overwhelming."

His expression was bemused. "But you are her, and she is you."

"She is a part of me, but only a part. The part you care for. There is much more of me. You don't really know me. What if I turn out to be someone you dislike, or, perhaps worse, disdain? Are you prepared for that? I'm not sure I am." She started to turn away, only to be stopped by the touch of his hand on her arm.

"There is only one way to find out," he said softly. "Why don't you take off the mask? Let me see who you are. Trust me, my Queen. I have every confidence that the woman behind the mask is every bit as extraordinary as the woman in the mask, whatever role she plays in public. I want to know you. Everything in me tells me that I will care just as deeply for you when I do."

She was tempted. She wanted to reveal herself to him so very badly. To end the deceits and the games. To be herself with him. She realized how much she trusted him and she was no longer afraid. Once she admitted to herself how much she loved him, she knew what she had to do.

"Doctor, I can't take off my mask."

His face fell. "You don't trust me."

"Of course I do. I trust you more than almost anyone I know. This has nothing to do with trust."

"Then what does it have to do with?" She could hear the hurt in his voice.

"I love you, but we can't be together now. Montoya already suspects the way I feel about you. What do I do when he puts a pistol to your head and tells me to surrender? I won't have you endangered by my feelings for you. And I won't show you my face. Would you be able to maintain a public indifference to the person I really am? I won't risk you, or those close to me. If Montoya even suspects who I am, all of the people I love will be in danger. I pray that there will be a time for us later. I have to finish what I started. I can't ask you to understand, but I ask you to accept it." Tears fell unheeded from her dark eyes, over the lace mask on to the face below.

The doctor took her chin gently in one hand and lifted her face to his. "I don't understand why you have to do this, and I can't promise to accept it," he said gently. "I do understand why you can't tell me who you are. I would never want to be a weapon for Montoya to use against you. Some loves are best left secret. I hope there is a time for us. I don't promise, but I do hope." He kissed her gently, tasting the salt of her tears on her lips. She didn't pull away.

The tiny bit of moon was low in the sky as the doctor watched the Queen ride away. She is so earnest, so impossibly young, so very dear. He thought back to her face as he held it in his hand, that lovely face... His mouth dropped open in surprise as the truth hit him.

It would be dawn soon and he had a busy day ahead of him, but he didn't feel like sleeping. He walked to the wooden crate that held his books and pulled out a well-worn copy of Coleridge's works and began to read. Safe journey, Maria Theresa. I will hold your secret and your love in my heart.

END

By Dea
[email protected]

CHALLENGE: wooden crate, salt, pin

This story takes place immediately after "Betrayed" and includes small spoilers from that ep.

~~~~~

Robert Helm knelt beside the wooden crate and rearranged its contents to make more room. He'd already packed all his clothes and books and the few personal items he owned. Most of his medical instruments, potions, elixirs and salves had already filled another crate. His medical bag he could carry with him in case his services were needed along the way. This had not been an easy decision to reach, but he knew it was something that had to be done.

Robert Helm was leaving Santa Elena.

His year in Alta California had been interesting at least, if not the most enjoyable. He'd nearly been incinerated in a purposefully rigged explosion, hunted down by an assassin, almost beheaded, tossed off a ship and nearly drowned, held at gun, knife and sword point, participated in more fistfights than in the whole of his childhood, and been sentenced to house arrest more times than he could remember. And yesterday...yesterday he really thought he was going to die.

Grisham had marched him into the desert with direct orders from Montoya to murder him.

What in bloody hell was he still doing here?!

He used to think he knew why he stayed despite the real threats to his survival. But yesterday had also taken care of that. The woman in black that terrorized Montoya's soldiers and gave the peasants someone to root for was well aware of his feelings for her. He knew she was not stupid. But apparently she was frightened, or the less appealing option, simply not interested.

He'd told her several times how amazing and incredible he thought she was. He couldn't really remember any answering compliments. Following yesterday's discussion about Vera Hidalgo's extramarital activities, he casually suggested that maybe some loves should stay secret. He'd hoped to shock her into denying such a silly thing. Her response, or rather lack thereof, had only rubbed salt in his proverbial wounds.

But then what could he expect? Did he think she would suddenly declare her love for him and then retire from the vigilante business to become a dutiful wife? He laughed out loud at that. He didn't even know her true identity. How on earth did he think they could have a semblance of a normal relationship?

No, better to just pack it in and hit the road. Since leaving the army he'd done his share of traveling. He'd been on a trek in Texas when Montoya had recruited him to heal this little pueblo. Sometimes he regretted ever stopping at that hole in the wall cantina outside of La Rosa. Who knows where he'd be now if he hadn't? He could still remember the moment El Colonel walked through the bar's swinging doors. Even there the peasants seemed to sense his self-appointed authority. A pin dropping to the floor could have been heard.

And yet, he'd agreed to come. Well, Robbie, all of our decisions can't be winners.

Looking around the office he'd used for the past twelve months, he though he should be feeling more solemn about his departure. Certainly he would miss his patients. The poor, dirty peasants that came to him for help they would find nowhere else. The skinned knees and black eyes of the children who played just a tad too rough. The exhaustion of the wives who worked too hard for their own good.

Professionally, he had seen very few dons and donas in his time in Santa Elena. Either their servants were skilled enough to deal with the occasional cut or burn, or, as he figured more likely, their lives of comfort and excess were not as conducive to illness. The exceptions to that had been a smattering of visits from Senora Vera Hidalgo, which he'd later deduced had only served as reconnaissance missions for Montoya. And of course Senorita Alvarado had made his office her second home. One didn't need to knock on the door of her own home, did she?

He had to admit, the thought of Maria Theresa breezing her way into his office and tapping him on the head with her fan brought a grin to his face. He just didn't understand that one. She played the part of the spoiled aristocrat almost too well. She seemed to genuinely care about the people of Santa Elena but she sighed and simpered along with the best of them. Perhaps given enough time, he would eventually find out who she really was. But that didn't look like it was in the cards.

Robert pulled on his jacket and ran a negligent hand through his hair. Of course he was dreading the talk with Montoya. He wasn't certain how the Colonel would take the news that he was losing his physician. Then again, he might rejoice. Just one less person for him to worry about. After all, he'd wanted to get rid of him badly enough to put a bullet in his head. This way was much easier, not to mention a lot less messy.

And it wasn't as if he was just taking off for parts unknown. Robert always had a plan. A few weeks ago he had spent three days in Monterrey for a medical convention. Four other well-known doctors had joined together in the El Camino Real Hotel on Main street to pour over the latest medical journals and discuss daring new procedures. He'd come to realize that medicine as a profession had come a long way, and there was no limit to what it would be able to accomplish in the future. Helm came away from the convention proud that he was a part of this revolution.

He had also come away with an open invitation to join the thriving practice of Dr. William Webster Butterworth, a Boston physician who had just set up office in Monterrey. Perhaps there he would find his purpose. He could use his talents to help people who might not try to kill him in return. Life there might not be as exciting as in Santa Elena, but at least it would be normal. And right now, Robert Helm longed for normal.

END

by Dea

~~~~~

Once he had everything packed up, Robert Helm left for Colonel Montoya's office. The sooner he confronted him the sooner he could be on his way. The friendly waves he received from the townsfolk on his way to the pale pink structure brought a tightness to his throat. Would they be so polite it they knew he was hours away from clearing out of town? Shaking off the doubts he continued to Montoya's. He would need all his concentration for this encounter.

After the soldier had announced him at the door, Robert walked into the elegantly decorated office and found the Colonel seated at his desk, hands folded in front of him. If he was surprised to see him alive and well it did not reflect in his eyes.

"Doctor Helm, I trust your little stay in our jail has done some good," he greeted him pleasantly.

"Actually I'm doing quite well. No extra holes in my head and all that," Robert replied with a smirk. He felt no fear in Montoya's presence. He knew the colonel himself would never raise a hand to him. He always stayed behind the scenes of his machinations. "No thanks to you."

Montoya sighed and spread his hands out in supplication. "My dear doctor, I truly regret the incident with Capitan Grisham. You know how seriously he takes his role as my second in command. He simply got a little carried away."

"Carried away? He was going to shoot me in the head!" Robert replied, not buying the Colonel's explanation for a moment. Not that he ever expected Montoya to come forward with the truth. "And he was acting on your orders. We both know that."

"Dr. Helm I'm shocked that you would think me capable of murder," Montoya said indignantly as he rose from his chair behind the desk. "Especially against someone as yourself. An integral member of our community."

"Only integral when it suits you," Robert said, a grim smile lighting on his face. "Like when you have fever and are scared of dying."

The barb hit its mark and Montoya's face went deadly still for a moment. Schooling his features once more, he said softly, "I think we can agree that we have had our differences, doctor, and simply leave it at that."

Robert shook his head. The man had talent, he had to give him that. His ability to circumvent the truth, to call forth such wounded pride. He used every situation to further his own goals. This conversation could go on forever if he let it. He'd better just get to the point of his visit.

"I've come to tell you I'm leaving," he announced.

"I think a vacation is just what the doctor ordered," Montoya replied, sitting back down and sifting through some papers on his desk. "Pardon the expression."

Was that relief he heard in the colonel's voice? Did he actually think he was going to get out of this situation so easily? That he would simply go on as if nothing had happened?

"Not a vacation," Robert clarified folding his arms over his chest.

"Oh?" Montoya looked up, confused for the briefest of moments. Then realization seemed to hit. Folding his hands again he replied casually, "I see."

Robert waited for the Colonel's reaction. Would he be angry, vehemently insisting that he was bound to him somehow as his personal physician? Or would he, as he himself had done, use his responsibility to the townspeople to prick his guilty conscience? He certainly wasn't expecting what the colonel said next.

"Dr. Helm, do I need to remind you of your situation when I found you in Texas?" he asked calmly, spearing him with a look that demanded his undivided attention.

How could he even bring that up? At first it surprised him, but then he realized that it really shouldn't have. He was simply once again using everything in his arsenal to achieve his own purpose. Stunned hazel eyes stared back at Montoya for a few seconds before Robert replied carefully, "What happened in La Rosa was not my fault. I had the situation completely under control!"

"Doctor, you were about to be hanged," Montoya informed him almost gleefully. It was clear the colonel enjoyed seeing his distress.

"Vigilante justice," Robert said with a dismissive wave.

"Ah, yes, something we know about all too well here in our little pueblo," Montoya remarked.

"Those men were angry with grief. They wouldn't have gone through with it," he insisted as he paced in front of the desk.

"Then you had more faith in them that I, doctor!"

"So that's what this is about then?" he asked, gripping the back of a chair. "You think you rescued me from some horrible demise so I owe you the rest of my life?"

"The arrangement was for one year--"

"And I've fulfilled that," Robert said emphatically. "And as I recall, death threats and house arrest were never part of the deal."

"Yes, fulfilled it you have," Montoya agreed begrudgingly. "Just remember that if you do go, there is no coming back."

Robert laughed.

"What, you're going to post soldiers outside of town to keep me out? Nothing personal but your soldiers aren't exactly the most adept at their vocation."

"It is not I you are abandoning here Dr. Helm," Montoya told him. "Do you think the people of this town will welcome you back with open arms after this? They depend on you to sustain their bodies just as the Padre sustains their souls. What am I to tell them?"

Leaning over the desk between them and placing his hands on either side, he replied, "Well Colonel, I suppose you could just pretend that Grisham succeeded, and tell them what you had planned for that unfortunate circumstance."

This time it was the Colonel's mouth that hung agape. It was a look that pleased Robert greatly.

"Adios, Colonel," he mock saluted as he left the office.

~~~~~

By Jim
[email protected]

Response to Trio Challenge #20
DISCLAIMERS: Characters are Fireworks. The story is mine
CHARACTERS : T M
SYNOPSIS: Tessa finds a treasure

~~~~~

Maria Teresa Alvarado rode Chico along the beach, savoring the cool sea air. Chico's hoofs kicked up the salt water as the waves gently broke upon the shore.

Suddenly she spied an object that had been washed upon the shore. It was a large wooden crate. Tessa loosened the lariat on her saddle and easily lassoed the crate. "Well Chico, I still remember what the gitanos taught about the use of a rope."

Tying the loose end to her saddle she urged Chico to pull the crate to dry ground. The crate had a name on the crate. It was "Katakugi".

"How am I going to open this, Chico?" Chico neighed.

At that moment, Tessa saw on of her rancheros riding Marta's horse along the surf. She called to him and he immediately came over.

"Pablo, what are you doing here. Does Marta know you are riding her horse?"

"Si, Si, Senorita, Marta told me to stretch her horses legs as Marta hadn't been riding for over a week."

"Well, I am happy to see you and I need your assistance. May I borrow your dagger? I want to open this crate."

"Si, but let me have the honor of opening it for you."

"Gracias, Pablo."

Pablo pried the lid until the nails gave way. The contents were wrapped in oilskin and the water had been prevented from ruining the items. As they carefully pulled the oilskin away, Tessa's heart jumped. "Oh, Pablo, this is fantastic, please go get a wagon and not a word to Marta."

An hour later, Pablo and Tessa arrived at the hacienda. Chico's reigns were tied to the wagon and he dutifully followed the wagon.

Marta met the wagon. "Tessa, what is this? Have you gone shopping?"

"No Marta, salvaging." Tessa climbed over the wagon seat and pulled the lid off the crate. She pulled out a bolt of cloth. Marta took the bolt.

"Tessa, this is silk. Finer than the silk we got in Madrid. Madre Dios, Tessa there is enough material to make you several dresses."

"Marta, there is enough material to make dresses for both of us, Pablo's wife and daughter and a certain friend of ours. See there are five more bolts in different colors. There is the red you are holding, one white, one yellow, one blue, one lavender and one black. There is also a bolt of black lace."

Pablo helped Marta take the bolts into the hacienda. Tessa saw something in the bottom of the crate and reached for it. She lost her balance and ended up headfirst with only her legs sticking out. She started calling out.

"Marta!"

Pablo carefully put down the bolts and ran back to help Tessa. Marta was laughing out loud at the sight of Tessa's feet sticking out of the crate. Pablo pulled her Tessa out of the crate. She had a big grin on her face and held something in her hand.

"Marta, look here is something that you are always saying you don't have enough of. Thread pins and a new pair of scissors."

THE END

By JoLayne
[email protected]

TRIO: salt, wooden crate, a pin
QUOTE: "Love is like an hourglass with the heart filling up as the brain empties." - Jules Renard

Poor Grisham keeps asking for it...

~~~~~

Grisham was just putting the cargo into the saddlebags on his stallion before adjusting himself. He was impeccably dressed in a new suit he had earlier that day purchased to wear that evening. The pants were a little too tight in the crotch but they were fine, he would make sure that the jacket was kept buttoned up, even though the suit had come with a handsome vest. Grisham hoped that the sight of the lovely Señorita Valdez wouldn't make him overfill his bounds, so to speak, because he's going to have to be on his best behavior. His mood was light and happy as he lead his horse out of the stables, that is until Montoya intercepted him. "Capitan," the colonel declared in an authoritative tone that Grisham didn't want to hear. Grisham was officially off duty and nothing, not even the Queen of Swords hog-tied and delivered in a wooden crate would make him miss yet another date with the daughter of a wealthy Don.

"Sir," he said defensively. "I'm off duty. Whatever it is will have to wait until morning or get somebody else to help you."

Montoya brought one hand out from behind his back, a hand which held a perfect rose fresh from his courtyard. "I've taken the liberty of having one of my men de-thorn it for you."

"Ah, Colonel." Grisham smirked, holding his hand out for the rose. "We have to stop meeting like this."

"It's not for you, you imbecile,"Montoya said, slapping the rose across Grisham's head. "it's for you to pin on your date's dress. I knew that you would make sure that you looked presentable, but you, of course, have forgotten to bring the Señorita a token of your affection."

"I'm already one step ahead of you, boss." Grisham cockily grinned, patting the saddlebag. "I have wine."

"No, no, no." Montoya put his hand on Grisham's shoulder, sadly shaking his head. "Did you not hear any of what I said the other night?"

"Yeah, sure," Grisham intoned. "You called me Marcus." The remembrance of that weird moment make Grisham subconsciously shudder.

"It will not happen again. Capitan," Montoya started to explain in a condescending tone. "If you were to bring a bottle of wine to a date with the Señorita, the Señorita's father just may take his rifle off the gunrack. It is not kosher to get her drunk the first time out. I do not mean to rub salt in the wound, but really Capitan, you must use your head, not follow other parts of your anatomy."

"But, I'm having dinner with her family," Grisham grudgingly explained. "The only thing I was wondering was if I should get red or white because I don't know what they'll be serving. So, resourceful as I am, I am got one of each."

"You are dating the girl by spending the evening with her family?"

"Yes, what of it?"

Montoya stared with a blank look. After a pause, he rose his arm with a flourish, indicating the stables. "God speed, Grisham," he said as Grisham strutted his stallion out of the stables.

As Grisham mounted and rode off into the night, Montoya pondered the many things that could very well go wrong that evening. He hoped Grisham wasn't going to make waves. His loss of the Doña-which-he-still-refused-to-refer-by-name had him acting like a mad man. BullDog Grisham had been a nice security force for Montoya. The other guards were training well, the prisoners weren't making any trouble, there hadn't been as many thefts to investigate, all from little beatings that Grisham had so whole-heartedly bestowed upon them. Most importantly of all, the Queen of Swords hadn't been seen for days. Montoya shook his head and hoped the best for his young protege, truly hoping in his heart that Marcus Grisham could find an available woman to love just as much as he had Vera.

It was a bold move on Montoya's part to just let Grisham go out and spend an evening with one of the most respected and wealthy dons of the area. Bold, indeed. Grisham seemed serious about the lass... he was having dinner with the Don and Dona... Montoya wanted to trust Grisham, but this was too important a matter to leave to Grisham's primitive thought process. Montoya couldn't imagine how things could go wrong if Grisham was to actually fall in love with the lady. Love is like an hourglass with the heart filling up as the brain empties. "Yes," he said aloud. "I must do something."

A stablehand looked at him with reverence. "Is there something I can do for you, Colonel?"

"Yes. Saddle my horse."

"I just got him settled for the night."

"Well, there is a pueblo to save," Montoya declared. He stalked to his office to change into his finest uniform. "Not to mention my own ass." As he walked into his bedroom, he muttered, "Never leave anything truly important to Grisham."

~~Jo

By JoLayne

WEEK 19 - TRIO: A necklace, iron rod, Mission (I know... last week's but still using it)

Taking Maril's suggestion, I'll try to make this three paragraphs as it is done on the HL list. Granted, they may be long paragraphs...

~~~~~

JO: GrishamMuse, get out of here. I need to concentrate on a certain doctor...
GRISHAM: Bah, you're linking him with the wrong woman. Nobody wants to see that.
JO: I said, get out! I'm tired of you.
GRISHAM: Get me back with Vera first. Please?
JO: Well...... will you take of your shirt?
GRISHAM: If you do a favor for me, I can bless you with the vision of my perfect pecs.
JO: Um, Marcoo, you do have nice pecs, but there's a certain doc--.
GRISHAM: Back to me, me with Vera, please?
JO: So pushy. I'll see what I can do.

~~~~~

After being verbally slapped around the last few days, and Señor Valdez was ready to break out his shot gun--.

GRISHAM: Wait a minute! I was a gentleman with the lovely Señorita.
JO: In your dreams, Marcoo.
GRISHAM: Don't call me that. It reminds me of Vera.
JO: Oh, you're naming her now.
GRISHAM: I need her back. I'm lost without her.
JO: Poor lad, quit bothering me so I can see what I can come up with.
GRISHAM: Okay, just type. I'll be over here in the corner.
JO: You know, there is an iron rod in the items. That doesn't scare you?
GRISHAM: Nah. You'll work your way around it.
JO: I thought you were going to be quiet.
GRISHAM: Just type.
JO: I'll try it again... just whisper, don't talk out loud. It's going to take a lot of work and I have little space in which to do it... three paragraphs... let's see...

~~~~~

After being verbally slapped around the last few days, and Señor Valdez was ready to break out his shot gun to kill some pesky birds that had nested on the eave above the door of his house, Grisham decided to not call on his daughter and turned his grand white stallion back toward town. On the way back to his apartment, his thoughts wandered to a certain hacienda that held the Doña who shall remain nameless. (Vera). <Shhhhhhhh GrishamMuse!> Even though he physically couldn't feel it, he knew it was there. In his pocket was Vera's gold chain that he had found under his bed while on a cleaning spree to clear out all traces of her after beating up prisoners just didn't do it for him anymore and had always kept the reminder of Vera with him. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, wrapped it around his fingers, remembering how it looked on her neck. He had to see her again, if only to once again peer into her window.

When he reached the Hidalgo hacienda at sunset, Grisham was at once stunned, then panic stricken. He jumped off his horse and ran to her. Vera was trapped under a large, heavy object in the front yard. Grisham knelt beside her and cradled her head. "Are you all right?" After she slapped him and said that she was trapped under a heavy object, of course she's not all right!, and to set her free, he jumped again, this time into action. He found, resting against the stable wall, an iron bar. Grabbing it, he rushed back to his precious Vera and used it as a lever to set her free.

Vera jumped up and hugged her ex-man, <Hey!> thanking him profusely for saving not only her life, <Okay...> but that of her unborn child. Grisham was pleased to hold her again and didn't want to let her go, but she didn't have to mention the kid... so quickly... "Are you sure that kid is Gaspar's, Vera?" he asked. Her face told him the answer, it was. But to his jubilant amazement, she hugged him again and said, "I have missed you so, Marcoo."

GRISHAM: Go on...
JO: That's the three paragraphs, big guy. Sorry.
GRISHAM: You were pretty sloppy getting there. What was she trapped under?
JO: Take your pick, use your imagination. A horse, a bureau, her husband...
GRISHAM: If she were under her husband, she would be trapped.
JO: That is NOT nice. You are not a nice man, Marcus. I don't know why I listen with you.
GRISHAM: I meant trapped in a loveless marriage.
JO: She loves him Marcus, what can we do?
GRISHAM: She loves me too. Women love two men at one time all the time.
JO: But we don't tell the men that.
GRISHAM: Why?
JO: It might get the woman into trouble.
GRISHAM: Jo! You mean...
JO: Yes.
GRISHAM: Women don't tell you the truth?
JO: Not always. I hate to break it to you, but women have been known to fake it too.
GRISHAM: NO! Well, with Helm I could understand, but never with me.
JO: No, NEVER with Helm.
GRISHAM: What the hell do you see in that... Brit?
JO: You got a minute? Let me count the ways... We can start with that accent, that voice that sends shivers up your back when he hits the right pitch, which is often. Then there's his eyes at alternate colors and you can see whatever you want in them, his thick dark hair that curls up when long and oh yes, when wet. Then there's that fabulous graceful neck, let's not forget his collarbones, his skin, his prominent shoulders, his long muscular arms, his lean gentle fingers, his--.
GRISHAM: Will you be quiet?
JO: You asked. I haven't even gotten to his washboard stomach.
GRISHAM: When did you ever see that?
JO: Right after he unbuttoned his shirt to beat the crap out of you.
GRISHAM: He ... did... not! beat anything out of me!
JO: No, he didn't get a chance to finish because Montoya hit him over the head.
GRISHAM: Good thing the boss did, or your boy could have really used a doctor.
JO: Hm. There are quite a few willing nurses around.
GRISHAM: That's just sick.
JO: It wouldn't be sick to you if there were a Grisham's Garrison or something.
GRISHAM: You've got a point. Can we get back to me now?
JO: I'm not sure.
GRISHAM: Waddamean?
JO: I don't like your attitude.
GRISHAM: Come on.... please? Think of poor Vera...
JO: 'Poor' Vera could buy and sell you.
GRISHAM: With her husband's reales.
JO: And your point is?
GRISHAM: I forget. Oh, yeah, now I remember. She has to come back to me. Okay, I see now that she loves Gaspar, and she may have lied a little to me, but never, ever faked it!, and is rich, that she can have a much better life with Gaspar and her kid. I know all of that! But, come on... I love her.
JO: Well, you have a point... in your own way...
GRISHAM: Will you do it? Will you have my Vera come back to me?
JO: She isn't your Vera. You have to keep that in mind.
GRISHAM: I will.
JO: But, I've got you wooing Señorita Valdez, you're going to dinner and meeting her parents and Montoya is going to show up. Didn't you read this week's first challenge response?
GRISHAM: Which doesn't bode well for me. Come on, Jo. Get real. You haven't even thought up a first name for that Valdez kid. Me, have dinner with the parents on a date with a dame? You're turning me into a wimp.
JO: I'm trying to give you depth. With what I have to work with, that's a tall order! I'm trying to make you a gentleman.
GRISHAM: But I'm not. And I'm the first to admit it.
JO: So, what should I do now?
GRISHAM: I don't show up at the Valdez hacienda.
JO: Why?
GRISHAM: Because Vera comes to me to tell me that she's missed me and begs me to take her back.
JO: <huge disgusted sigh>
GRISHAM: <placating writer> Okay, okay. You work it out. But I want to be in bed with Vera within days. <pause> Don't look at me like that.
JO: What on earth do you and Vera have to talk about?
GRISHAM: Nothing now. Thanks to you, she won't even look at me. And who needs talking?
JO: She's pregnant.
GRISHAM: Also thanks to you.
JO: I had help in that endeavor.
GRISHAM: Huh?
JO: GrishamMuse, meet LaminaeMuse.
GRISHAM: <screams in terror as he disappears>
JO: Okay, Lam, where did you put him?
LAMINAE: Somewhere where he will not bother anyone again, especially Vera.
JO: Lighten up, Lam. This is the 21^st Century.
LAMINAE: No. See? You forget which time period you are writing for, Jo. This is the 19^th Century.
JO: But it's a show.
LAMINAE: You either write it correctly, or do not write it at all. We can forgive little lapses of concentration because we know that you get blocked at times <patting Jo's shoulder> but you really should think things through a little more.
JO: People have been committing adultery for centuries, Lam.
LAMINAE: You are telling me? I have been there, but not have done that.
JO: Yeah, right! You had three kids while married to Diabol.
LAMINAE: Can you blame me? Gaspar is no Diabol.
JO: You got me there. Come on, tell me. Where is poor Marcoo right now? I feel sorry for the lad.
LAMINAE: My lips are sealed.
JO: So, I can never write about him again because I don't even know where he is?!
LAMINAE: Well, I can give you a hint...

~~~~~

QUOTE CHALLENGE 2: Week 20

Grisham huddled into a ball as the blizzard roared around him. He couldn't even form words for fear that his mouth could crack. Damn writers... Where the hell am I?!

Suddenly a swirl of lights appeared in front of him. They formed a tornado that the strong wind of the blizzard couldn't disturb. They whirled faster and faster until the form of Laminae in a long fur coat appeared in front of Grisham. He reflectively groaned looking up at her from his balled up position half buried in a snow bank. "Go away!" he yelled to the Jinniyah.

Laminae shook her head and tisked. "If I did that, not only would Jo be upset, but you would be stuck here. Do you even know where you are?"

"No."

"You on top of what many people believe is the highest peak in the world at this period of time. Actually K-2 is taller, but that is not the point. You are on what is called Mount Everest. Have you ever heard of it?"

"Get me out of here!"

"We need to talk first, set the rules, so to speak..."

"Can you get me one of those fur coats?"

"You are wearing a suit jacket. Why do you need two coats when you have only one back?"

"Because I'm freezing!"

Laminae sighed and even Grisham knew that wasn't a good sign. He turned away from her as she started to walk near him. He didn't know what she was, or how he was on top of a mountain he'd never heard of. That wind was so intense and each snow flake seemed to embed in his exposed skin. I can't feel my fingers! He looked down at them as they started to turn black with frostbite, then saw Laminae's hand take his.

Suddenly, Grisham fell to the floor. He looked up and saw his own things. They were in his living quarters in Santa Helena. The woman waved her hand and his skin started to turn back to a healthy pinkish hue. "How did--?"

She thrust a finger in his face and said, "You only listen."

Grisham didn't like her tone, but took Jo's advice and not get her riled up. For some reason, he felt that that odd dark skinned woman with an attitude might help him. He shook off the layer of snow from his shoulders, knees and head and stood up. Finding that he was a good foot taller than her made him strong, but just for a minute. Her eyes were not welcoming, or even friendly. He did as she suggested and remained quiet.

"You will not remember anything about me," she said forcefully, still waving that finger in his face.

Great, Grisham thought. Looking forward to it...

"Or anything that happened to you since you were bothering Jo and I sent you to Mount Everest. Jo likes you, and I have come to realize that Vera does miss you. I only want what my masters and mistresses want. Vera's taste is ... lacking at best, but to each his or her own. What you will remember is that you have to treat Vera with respect and show that love that you profess to have. She is married and will have her husband's child so she sets the boundaries. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," Grisham said.

Laminae walked toward him and clamped her hand on the top of his head. He felt lightheaded and the room around him contorted and whirled. Grisham dropped to the floor. He shook off the dizziness and saw that he was in his apartment, alone. He stood up, wondering how he came to be laying on the floor, wondering why he was even in his apartment. Last he remembered, he was putting recruits through drills.

He saw that he was dressed in civilian clothes and hurriedly donned his uniform and rushed out the door in case Montoya was patrolling the area for him. He heard a woman's scream and ran around the corner to it. In front of the bank, Grisham saw Vera desperately keeping hold of her purse as a large ogre of a man was pulling on the other end of it. The robber was angry and pulled a gun out of his pocket as Grisham kept running toward them, too worried to speak. He was only feet away when the robber raised the gun to probably hit Vera over the head with the barrel. He wouldn't dare shoot a Dona in the middle of the town, even though no one around had come to her rescue. The cowards had only turned their heads or ran out of the way. Grisham yelled, "Don't even think about it!" as he put his body between Vera and the robber. As he smiled a dazzling smile to Vera, Grisham jut elbow out behind him, knocking the bandito unconscious. The gun fell out of the man's hands and Grisham kicked it aside.

"Marcoo," Vera said gratefully.

Grisham swooned (GRISHAM: Guys don't swoon!) Grisham gloated and motioned to a couple of guards who had come, of course, too late, "Take this garbage away," he said, kicking the bandito in the head. "Señora Hidalgo, are you hurt?"

Vera clutched her purse and put a hand to her hair. "No. Thanks to you, Capitan," batting her eyes at him.

GRISHAM: Okay, guys swoon.

Grisham wanted to embrace his love, but knew he couldn't right then and there. They had to be careful as she was a Señora and he was... well, he was Grisham.

GRISHAM: Hey!

He tenderly took Vera's hand and slowly lead her off the bank's porch toward the cantina. Since there were others around, he used his brain in more ways than one when he asked, "May I have one of my men escort you home, Señora? You've had a trauma." He did want her safe on the way home and may not be the right decision to be too willing to do the honors himself as he wanted to resume their affair, but just because one of his men took her home, that didn't mean that Grisham could tag along...

Vera said, "No, Capitan. That will not be necessary."

GRISHAM: JO!
JO: Just hold on. Man! Have patience...

"I see," Grisham said. "Your husband, Don Gaspar, is in town and will do the honors of course..."

"No," Vera lightly said, her eyes twinkling. "Gaspar has gone to Monterrey on business. I was hoping that you would be my escort, Capitan."

GRISHAM: Yes!
JO: Just think with your head, big guy.
GRISHAM: I always do, Jo. <pause> Don't look at me like that. There's no need to roll your eyes.

Grisham ordered his men to clean up the area and for everyone else to get back to what they were doing. He kept a light hold on Vera's hand as he lead her to her carriage and helped her into it. He wanted to jump in there with her, but there were people around. He had to act official. He asked Vera to wait for just a moment and ran off to the stables. He mounted his white steed and rode back to the square, back to Vera. He was going to spend the rest of the day, and hopefully the night at the Hidalgo hacienda, but he would need transportation back to Santa Helena again.

GRISHAM: See? I'm always thinkin'.
JO: Ball's in your court now, Mark.
GRISHAM: What ball? What kind of court?
JO: Get outta here.
GRISHAM: With pleasure.

Grisham waited for Vera to yank the reins and her carriage to pull out before he followed on horseback. As they rode past Montoya's headquarters, Grisham could see Montoya on the balcony, studying them. Grisham cockily tipped his hat for his superior. Montoya tightly smiled and dismissed him with a wave of his hand and walked back into his office. As they rode out of town, Grisham nudged his stallion up so he was even with Vera in the carriage.

JO: By the way, Grisham. What's the name of your horse?
GRISHAM: Will you shut up?!
JO: Fine.

THE END

By Julie
[email protected]

TRIO: salt, wooden crate, a pin
RATING: G
FEEDBACK: Yes, please

~~~~~

She sat on the windowsill, staring as the Colonel awoke. The early morning sun streamed in, making Luis squint, but his visitor gazed serenely, unblinking.

"You're looking awfully smug this morning," Luis said as he pushed back the sheet and sat up. "Not that I'm surprised. I heard your adventures last night. I suspect the entire pueblo heard you. A little modesty and restraint would be advisable."

The visitor made no response, but merely raised a delicate paw to her tongue and began her morning grooming. "Shameless hussy," Luis muttered as he moved to the wash basin and splashed water on his face.

By the time the Colonel was dressed and ready for his day, the cat had finished her washing and moved to the Colonel's bed, curling herself into a ball on the pillow.

"You won't be able to stay. The maid will throw you out."

The cat opened one eye at the sound of the Colonel's voice, and she looked at him for a moment, just long enough to communicate that his opinion was not required. Then she closed her eye and tucked her head back down under her paws.

"Have it your way then," Luis thought as he took one last look in the mirror, adjusting the pin in his cravat. Perhaps she would get her way. The maid was irrationally afraid of cats and might rearrange her cleaning schedule just to avoid a confrontation over the creature's preferred napping spot. The silly woman might even risk her employer's wrath about an unmade bed, so deep was her superstition.

The cat had first come to the Colonel's attention several weeks earlier when Grisham had tried to kick her in the stables. "Capitan!" the Colonel said sharply. "I am disappointed in you. No officer worth his salt should stoop so low as to be cruel to animals."

"I hate cats," the Captain answered, eyeing the creature, now perched on a wooden crate and well out of range of the soldier's boot. "I'd like to clear the stables of them."

"You would prefer the horses' feed to be overrun with rats?"

"We don't have rats in the stables!"

"No, we have cats." The Colonel walked to the cat and raised a hand, which the cat sniffed carefully before turning her head so the Colonel could better scratch her ears. Luis obliged and then ran a hand firmly along her back. "Cats which appear to be finding plenty of food. These animals serve an important function here. You should show them some respect."

The Captain had muttered something in response, but the Colonel feared his instruction had gone in one ear and out the other. Luis sighed. He wasted so much wisdom on this bull-headed American.

From that day on, the cat had paid special attention to the Colonel, first waiting at his horse's stall, later following him to his house and leaving gifts of dead rodents on the windowsill. The maid had not appreciated the gestures.

The Colonel had thought to discourage the cat until the day Doctor Helm barged in with his petty complaints about injured peasants.

The cat had decided to join the Colonel in his study, and while Luis made half-hearted attempts to shoo her out, he was distracted by the pile of correspondence that had just been delivered, all of which had to be read carefully and answered with discretion.

So it was that the Colonel was settled behind his desk and the cat was stretched along the back of the sofa when the doctor burst through the door. "Colonel, I demand to speak with you at once!"

"Doctor, what a surprise," the Colonel said calmly. "I didn't think the English ever displayed such passion. I also thought they were fastidious about knocking."

Helm had ignored the gibe and launched into his speech, griping about a soldier breaking a peasant's arm (the man had refused to pay his taxes) and a woman who had been knocked to the ground (soldiers had been searching for the Queen). He had been set to launch into a diatribe about the treatment of prisoners when he paused and looked about. His nose began to twitch (if a nose such as the doctor's could be said to do something as delicate as twitch). Finally, his gaze settled on the sofa and the alert and wide-eyed feline reclining there.

"You have a cat."

"You don't like cats, doctor?"

"Oh, they're fine creatures. I like them just fine." Despite his words, Helm was watching the cat warily and backing slowly away from the sofa. "The ancient Egyptians used to worship cats, you know."

"Yes, I know. That's why I've named her Cleopatra." Luis didn't knew what prompted him to say that. He'd never thought to give the cat a name, but she seized upon 'Cleopatra' with a loud meow as soon as she heard it.

"Cleopatra, eh? Very nice."

Upon hearing her newly-claimed name, the cat hopped off the sofa and began padding toward the doctor. Luis watched with some concern as the doctor continued to back away and rubbed at his eyes, which had now become watery.

"Is something wrong?"

"Oh no, I'm just fi...." And then it struck, a sneeze that arrived with so much force the Colonel rose up in alarm.

"You are not well, Doctor."

"It's the ca...ca...caaaachooo!"

Luis came around the desk with an air of concern and placed on arm on the doctor's shoulder. "I think you had best return to your office, Doctor. Get some rest."

"I still need to talk to you abo... abo..."

The Colonel moved back with a look of distaste as yet another sneeze erupted. His voice, however, remained calm.

"About the prisoners, yes. Your devotion to your patients is admirable. I will come to your office to discuss this with you."

The Doctor was moving toward the door, but was not quite ready to give up. "Today?"

"I am quite busy today, Doctor. I have much work to do."

"Tomorrow then?" the doctor said between sniffles into his handkerchief.

The Colonel smiled benevolently as he continued to pushed the Doctor into the hall. "Soon. I promise. I will come as soon as I am able."

The Colonel closed the door firmly behind the departing Doctor and turned with relief back to the room and the cat sitting coolly in the middle of the carpet.

"Well, Cleopatra, it appears you have useful talents. Perhaps I will ask the cook to provide a saucer of cream with my noon meal."

Cleopatra stared for a moment and then blinked once before turning back to the soft cushions of the sofa.

END

By Lisa
[email protected]

This uses the "love is like an hourglass" quote.

Besides a couple of the star characters, it employs a few of the recurring extras. Rosa is the girl with the headaches (and the watered-down laudanum) in Betrayal. She makes it into the credits there, but I'm fairly sure I have seen her (unnamed) as a designated patient in other episodes as well. Her brother, Francisco, is based on one of the anonymous troopers riding off to Monterrey (and nearly blown up on their return) in The Hanged Man. Tomas is based on one of those ubiquitous, and equally anonymous, wounded soldiers who reappear from episode to episode--more particularly, the one in The Dragon cautioned against trying to dance for the time being.

~~~~~

Rosa combed her hair and pinned it back, catching the wispy lengths that tended to fall disobediently about her face. She checked the effect one more time in the small, tarnished mirror, then adjusted her new shawl carefully about her shoulders. The silken fabric was luxuriously soft beneath her work-coarsened fingertips. It was too precious for wearing everyday, something to be saved for Sunday Mass and for fiestas. Her brother Francisco had brought it back for her from Monterrey, and its bright colors carried the echoes of his tales of that fine city, his gallant, revered commander, and the new Viceroy.

Emboldened by its promise of worlds outside Santa Helena, Rosa picked up her basket and turned her steps nervously toward Doctor Helm's office. Perhaps her mother was right and she was being so very foolish. "Be careful, mi hija," Mama had sighed, "love is like an hourglass with the heart filling up as the brain empties." But had the Doctor not always been kind to her? Even through the fuzzy delirium of her fever she could remember the coolness of his hand on her forehead stroking her sweat-damp hair. "Don't worry, senora," he had reassured her mother, "your pretty daughter will be dancing at many fiestas yet." Did he not always have a smile for her, too, whenever she turned up on his doorstep on one pretext or another? And had he not listened with such troubled eyes as she had described her headaches?

And was he really so very beyond her star? He was only a foreigner, after all--not even a good Catholic, people said. The dons' daughters might fancy him, it was true, but in the end they would marry others like themselves, with money and land and privilege. And as for Senorita Alvarado, who so boldly, brazenly even, breezed into his office in her pride and fine, expensive gowns and demanded his attention--

"Ay! Me vale!" With a toss of her long hair Rosa shook that thought from her head. Her father, she reminded herself, who had come up here from Mexico with the army long before she was born, counted himself as good a Christian man as any don in New Spain. The day would come, he promised his children, when the poor would take their share of what the rich landowners hoarded to themselves.

The Doctor's door stood open to bring the cooler evening air inside and refresh the house. Rosa hesitated a moment only, then tapped on the door-frame and entered.

She was a little disappointed to find that the Doctor was not alone. Colonel Montoya, of all people, had evidently made himself at home in the Doctor's usual chair, his legs stretched out comfortably in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Rosa had never had reason to be so close to him, and she quailed a little as his eyes swept over her. Doctor Helm had been lounging against the side edge of the table, his back to the door, but he had turned and straightened as he heard her knock.

"Rosa? The headaches have returned?"

"No, senor. I--" Rosa extended her basket a little awkwardly. "Mama and I, we thought you might like these."

"Gracias, Rosa." The Doctor smiled at her as he took the basket and examined the contents. "This is very kind of you."

"My, my, my," the Colonel remarked. "So it seems the Good Doctor has captured yet another lady's heart." Rosa blushed.

"Don't mind him," the Doctor comforted her. "The Colonel is jealous." He flashed her a more mischievous smile, glancing sideways toward Montoya. "Because beautiful young girls so rarely offer him baskets of empanadas."

Rosa drew a breath. How dared he jest like that with the Military Governor? She was just a little frightened now, as well as embarrassed, even though the Colonel showed no sign of taking offence.

"Ah," he merely replied, rising gracefully from the chair. "But then, not being English, I do not need to be taught what real food is like. Enjoy your supper, Doctor. Senorita." He stopped for a moment in front of Rosa and inclined toward her with the suggestion of a courtly bow. It was an unprecedented, unaccustomed courtesy--men of his class rarely treated women of hers as anything more than servants--and Rosa blushed more deeply.

"Do you like empanadas, senor?" she asked once they were alone and silence had fallen in the room, and after she had regained a little of her nerve. "Do you not have them in your country?"

"We have something similar. We call them 'pasties.' They're much less spicy, though: no chiles in England."

"Pasties," Rosa repeated to herself, trying out the word's foreign sound, and contemplating a place without the pureed roasted chile peppers which were such a kitchen staple in California.

There was another silence, and Rosa knew he was waiting for her to say good night. "There will be a fiesta next week." She approached the real purpose of her visit a little shyly. "For San Juan, sabes? There will be music and dancing, and--"

"Ah, Tomas." She looked at him in some confusion, but his back was to her as he placed the basket on the table and he could not see that. "You're worried about Tomas. You needn't be: the leg wound was very superficial, a bruise, really, no more. He'll be fine by the fiesta." He faced her again, and she looked down to avoid his kind, but so unperceptive, eyes. "He told me, you see, how much he was looking forward to dancing La Jota with you then."

"Si, Doctor." Love's hourglass turned, and its sands ran back from her foolish heart into her brain. In her infatuation she had forgotten all about Tomas. Tomas, whom she had known since they were children chasing each other amongst the chickens and struggling crops in the yards behind the soldiers' families' houses. Tomas, who now stood so tall and proud and handsome in his uniform, and whose fingers always managed to brush hers in the Holy Water stoop on Sundays before Mass. Tomas, who, on her last birthday, had even dared to steal her a rose from the Colonel's garden. Resolved now, Rosa smiled broadly. "Si, I will dance with Tomas."

END

By Maril
[email protected]

RATING: G
FEEDBACK: Yes, please
DISCLAIMERS: Fireworks still has the copyrights, we have the imagination.

TRIO CHALLENGE: salt, wooden crate, a pin

~~~~~

"I may have to change my mind about women who wear men's pants," he said as she bounded up the steps toward him. His grey eyes warmed as they slid over the shapely legs encased in the tan trousers. 'Of course, a woman wearing a man's shirt and vest is also quite enchanting,' he added to himself. His lips barely curved as she strode across the deck, seemingly unmindful of its pitching or the slippery salt water washing across it like a frothy river. 'An admirable woman, a law unto herself at sea,' he thought.

Her eyes were bright and keen as a cat's, constantly moving, missing nothing. Now they watched him with barely concealed impatience, as she propped her booted foot on a wooden crate and leaned toward him. He almost wanted to flinch away from her unwavering stare, but schooled his features into a bland look.

Finally, she said curtly, "So what's this about, Montoya? This secret meeting at sea. What do you want?"

Montoya moved away from the taffrail, staggered with the rolling of the ship, and reached out, nearly falling. Mary Rose grabbed his arm, shaking her head. "No sea legs, Montoya? Better hang onto the rail, or better yet, let's go below." She smiled at his wan look at that suggestion. "You're right. It's worse below for landlubbers. So, while you can still talk, and have control over your stomach, tell me what you want."

"I'd like to hire you to take a shipment to Monterrey and bring something back." He waited while that information sunk in. Her wary look bespoke her mistrust. He expected that. "My gold shipments are constantly being waylaid and stolen by the Queen of Swords. I need you to see the next shipment safely to Monterrey."

Her eyes swept over him and a curl of dislike twitched at the corners of her mouth. "Why should I do anything for you, Montoya? You were going to hang my son."

"Money, my dear pirate queen. You need money. I will pay you handsomely to see that the gold is delivered to the municipal offices in the capitol. On the return trip, you will bring me a special package that is waiting in Monterrey. And..." his eyes became as dark as the seas tossing the ship, "... if you do not, I may have to take your hacienda for non-payment of taxes." He smiled at the sudden anger, like lightening, that flashed in her blue eyes. He relaxed against the rail, abstractedly twirling the diamond pin in his cravat ...and waited.

After several seconds, she replied, "What makes you think you can trust me? I might just take the gold myself. For all you know, I could be the Queen of Swords."

Montoya burst out laughing, unable to control the sudden fit of mirth. "Is this an impromptu confession?" Regaining his composure, he said, "You couldn't be the Queen. I have been close to her many times. She has black hair, you are fair-haired..."

"A wig can cover the hair." Mary Rose smiled roguishly, a merry twinkle in her eyes.

"And the eyes? Hers are dark, like the pit of hell, while yours are the clear blue of the eternal sky. Not even a lace mask could disguise your eye colour. No, Mary Rose, you could not be the Queen of Swords. You should be satisfied being the Queen of the Sea, Neptune's bride." He held onto the rail while taking her hand and placing a reverent kiss on the back. "Now about our deal..."

Continued as Deal Round Robin

Escritoria: Maril de Swanez
[email protected]

RATING: G
FEEDBACK: yes, please
DISCLAIMER: Fireworks, et al

----------------------------------------------------------------------

LAS NOTICIAS DE MONTERREY

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Santa Helena, Alta California (via Courier) dateline: June 7, 1818

----------------------------------------------------------------------

SANTA HELENA ---- A daring daylight robbery has once again foiled the attempts of the authorities in this territory to bring the outlaw known as the Queen of Swords to Spanish justice. Just after dawn today, a shipment destined for Monterrey was waylaid by the bold bandita who made off with an undisclosed amount of currency and documents. In the ensuing skirmish, several soldiers were injured, none seriously. The wagon containing the shipment was found later, abandoned at the bottom of a steep cliff; the horses and the contents were missing.

Colonel Luis Montoya, military commander of the territory, has posted a substantial reward for information leading to the capture of this notorious criminal. Asked how one woman could continually elude an entire garrison, he said, "She has the devil's own luck. But, soon, her luck will run out and she will make a fatal mistake. Then, we will have her and justice will be done." He added, "If I had more resources to work with, more men and guns, this sorry episode in California history could be brought to a conclusion, and peace would be restored to this little paradise."

In Monterrey, Viceroy de Sola commented on the problems in the Santa Helena region: "We are aware of the predations of this Queen of Swords and are utilizing what resources we have to bring her to book. Unfortunately, Alta California is a vast territory with many demands for money and men. We just cannot spare anything more for a tiny pueblo and its petty criminals. As the proverb says, 'Why do you need two coats, when you only have one back?' More expenditure on this problem would be a misuse of public funds."

The captain of the guard in Santa Helena, who asked that his name be withheld, when approached for an interview, only said, "No comment." None of the soldiers in the garrison were allowed to speak with the reporter.

In the town of Santa Helena, feelings are mixed on this unusual felon. A local landowner, Se�orita Maria Theresa Alvarado, commented: "I've only seen her a couple of times. She wears a tacky black outfit and covers her face with cheap Spanish lace. If she is a menace to society, she should be apprehended so that we can all feel safe. I'm sure Colonel Montoya is doing his best to catch her."

One of the leading citizens in Santa Helena, Don Gaspar Hidalgo added: "I don't know why she does what she does. For the money, probably. But she helped save my life once, so I really don't know what to think of her. She does not seem to pose a danger to the landowners. Her vendetta, if you like, seems to be with the military commander, Colonel Montoya."

The town's doctor, Robert Helm, was more forthcoming in his assessment of the Queen of Swords. "She's the most remarkable woman I have eve known," he said. With a slight grimace, he added, "I suppose I should also thank her. My practice has become quite busy because of her... tending to broken bones, cuts and bruises. But seriously, she seems to be a latter-day knight, a crusader for her own brand of justice. Though I may deplore her methods, I have to admire her for the courage of her convictions."

For nearly a year, the Queen of Swords has reigned supreme over the territory of Santa Helena, eluding all attempts at her capture, becoming more daring in each of her crimes. A local peasant, asked for his opinion on this bandita, only said, "She fights for us. Viva la Reina de Espadas."

--Maril

RATING: G

NOTE: we move forward nearly two hundred years to the same news story, only it probably wouldn't make the front page. <G>

All the news that fits around the advertising

---------------------------------------------------------------------

THE MONTERREY GAZETTE

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Santa Helena, California (via AP/Reuters) dateline: June 8, 2001

SANTA HELENA -- A daring daylight robbery has once again foiled the attempts of the authorities in this AREA to bring the outlaw known as the Queen of Swords to justice. Just after dawn today, a Brinks truck destined for Monterrey was waylaid by the bold bandit who made off with an undisclosed amount of currency and documents. In the ensuing skirmish, several officers were injured, none seriously. The truck containing the shipment was found later, abandoned at the bottom of a steep cliff; the contents were missing.

Mayor Luis Montoya, a retired army colonel, has posted a substantial reward for information leading to the capture of this notorious criminal. Asked how one woman could continually elude an entire police force, he said, "She has the devil's own luck. But, soon, her luck will run out and she will make a error. Then, we will have her and she will pay for her crimes. She's typical of the slackers this society has to support. Too much money, too much time on their hands and no responsibilities. I think all young people should be taken into the army for at least two years. That would teach them some discipline and respect for authority."

In Monterrey, Chief Inspector de Sola commented on the problems in the Santa Helena region: "We are aware of the predations of this Queen of Swords and are utilizing what resources we have to bring her to book. Unfortunately, California is a vast territory with many demands for money and men. We just cannot spare anything more for a tiny town and its petty criminals. As the proverb says, 'Why do you need two coats, when you only have one back?' More expenditure on this problem would be a misuse of public funds."

The captain of police in Santa Helena, who asked that his name be withheld, when approached for an interview, only said, "No comment." None of the officers in the station were allowed to speak with the reporter.

In the town of Santa Helena, feelings are mixed on this unusual felon. The daughter of a local business owner, Maria Theresa Alvarado, commented: "I've only seen her a couple of times. She's like... totally awesome. I mean... like, she wears this black outfit... and it's like... Gothic, you know. I wanna be her new best friend and we could hang together at the mall. That'd be ...like... way kewl,

y'know."

One of the leading citizens in Santa Helena, and a rival candidate for mayor, Gaspar Hidalgo added: "I don't know why she does what she does. I am sure once she has been apprehended we can take some steps to help her become a useful member of society." He added, "The main platform of my election campaign for mayor is to solve the youth problem in our small town. Rehabilitation, not punishment, is the key to emptying our jails and helping young lawbreakers see the error of their ways."

The town's doctor, Robert Helm, was more forthcoming in his assessment of the Queen of Swords. "She's the most remarkable woman I have ever met," he said. With a slight grin, he added, "I suppose I should also thank her. I spend a lot of time these days filling out HMO forms. Viva la Reina de Espadas!"

--Maril

By Rodlox
[email protected]

TRIO & QUOTE REPLY #20
RATING: PG - PG13. {mostly for innuendo}.
SUMMARY: Our favorite character gets a very feminine visitor late one night....

~~~~~~

It was a good dream: Myself, a shapely equestrian, and some rope....

And then a chill wind woke me up just when it was getting interesting. It's a considerable breeze, so somebody must have opened the door rather than the window. No knocking, so that leaves two people...

There she is, all in black. I try not to look at her feet... "Is there something in particular you came here for?" I sniff, as much from a nasal itch as any other reason.

"Can't I just stop by and say hello to you?"

I don't answer that...I don't trust myself enough to.

"Are you okay?" she asks me.

Like my last employer said, 'Love is an hourglass where the heart fills as the brain empties.' And here I always thought he'd been a bit loony.

He was right.

She'd never wear her long hair up in pins, rolls, curls, and braids - and damn my leg betraying that thought with a twitch.

"I'd offer you something to eat," I tell her, trying to get her attention away from that traitorous leg, "but my stores are low. Do you like sugar and salt?"

Her eyes light up, her lips...well, best not to say such things. "I knew you liked me."

You have no idea, young lady. "They're over there," motioning towards my satchel and the wooden crate - the one that Senora Alvarado wanted me to get rid of, though her husband declared that it would stay - it rests upon. I think I need to have my home cleaned professionally again.

She took a handful and chewed it thoughtfully. Uh-oh...I've learned that whenever _anyone_ gets that sort of look...it ends up meaning I run cross-country for one reason or another.

My lady, her name may as well be Midnight for as well as I know her true name, then turns to me and says, "Can I ask you something?"

I brace myself. "You can."

"Something I've never understood, Senhor, is why do you need two coats when you only have one back?"

I decide not to mutter anything, since we both know she has very good ears. Cute ears though, very cute. "It's called a blanket, and I use it because the nights here are very cold."

She smiles....I must resist the smile...must resist... "But you have such lovely chest hair, and your back is magnificent."

My dear, flattery will get you.... "It was a gift." Legs aren't the only things that can be lame. Quick, distract again! "Would you care to go for a stroll?"

"With you?"

My dear, was that an insult or query? "Yes."

"Then sure. Let's go."

I'd leave Tessa a note, but I can't write...besides, I'll be back in my stable by morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Humans are a metaphor for life."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~