Love Stinks

Disclaimer: QOS Characters belong to Fireworks Entertainment. I'm just borrowing them for the time being.

Rating: PG-13

Synopsis: I think the title says it all...

Author's note: This is just a little fic for all the Tessa/Grisham fans out there (like myself). No payoff just yet, but if I get enough positive feedback there will be sequels G. And if the beginning seems a little familiar to anyone, it was inspired by thefinal Buffy/Spike scene in episode 5x07 "Fool for Love" (the one where Spike told her how he killed the two slayers). Enjoy!

I'm gonna kill that bitch! Grisham thought angrily as he rode. That she-devil has humiliated me for the last time! Today had definitely not been his day. Not only did he fail to stop the Queen from making off with the tax shipment, but during the duel, she had sliced his suspenders with her sword and made his pants drop in front of half the garrison. And to make things worse, Montoya had found out about it and used the incident to further his embarrassment, this time in front of the whole town. Which is why Grisham was currently riding through the desert with a loaded pistol, hunting. One way or another, the Queen had to pay for making him the laughing stock of Santa Elena.

After following her trail for what seemed like hours, Grisham finally located his quarry. She was sitting on the edge of a cliff staring out at the ocean. The same cliff, ironically, where she'd almost met her end a year ago in their second encounter. This is almost too perfect. Quietly, he dismounted and stalked up the cliff, cocking the gun as he did. She didn't even flinch when he came up behind her and put it to her head.

"Well, well Queen. Looks like the reaper's finally caught up with you. Best start sayin' your prayers now, 'cause in a moment you won't have any breath left to say 'em."

"If you're going to do it, then go on and get it over with already. Just make it quick."

Grisham moved to pull the trigger, and then stopped. Something is definitely off here. I expected a witty comeback, defiance, possibly some sort of physical confrontation. Hell, even begging would work. But cold acceptance of the fact that I'm about to end her life? That just isn't like her. Somehow, at that moment, his anger changed to genuine concern. He tossed the gun aside and sat down next to her.

"What's wrong?"

She turned towards him, and Grisham could tell that she'd been crying. "What do you care? Aren't you here to kill me?"

"Changed my mind. Now come on, tell me what's wrong. Who knows, maybe I can help."

"I doubt it."

"Try me."

"Alright. I went to see Dr. Helm earlier. But when I got there, he was…he was with someone else."

Grisham's mouth dropped open in shock as he swung his head around to look at her. "Wait a minute…Dr. Helm? Same guy who follows you around like a lovesick puppy?"

"That's the one."

"He wasn't with that Alvarado chick, was he?"

She shook her head, appearing to be oddly saddened by that fact."No…he was with Mary Rose, of all people. Can you believe it? All that time he spends lecturing me on killing people, and he winds up in bed with a known pirate."

"That is strange. I really didn't think she was his type. Doesn't make sense."

She snorted. "Yes it does. He seems to have a thing for blondes. I mean, look at his last girlfriend."

"He had another girlfriend?"

"Oh, that's right. You weren't here when she was. Yeah, there was this woman from back in England. Camilla Wentworth. Ended up married to some asshole because her father thought Helm was a coward for leaving the army. You know, when she was here, I was this close to stepping aside so the two of them could finally be happy together. But instead of going with her, he decided to stick around. I thought he stayed behind for me. Guess I was wrong."

Grisham observed the Queen. From her expression and slumped shoulders, it looked likeshe was about to break down again. Grisham quickly reached into his shirt, pulled out a flask, and handed it to her. "Here, drink this."

She opened the flask and tentatively sniffed at the opening. "What is it?"

"Scotch. Best whiskey thatMontoya had in his liquor cabinet."

"I'm not even going to ask. You're not trying to get me drunk, are you?"

"Nah. I just know that this is the kinda situation that calls for a good stiff drink. In fact…" He plucked the flask from her hand and took a swig, handing it back to her once he'd finished.

"You too?" she asked, taking a drink of the strong liquor herself. "It's Vera, isn't it?"

"Is there anyone else?"

"You do realize that she's married, don't you?"

"Yeah, and that's what kills me. I mean, she acts like she cares when she needs something, but the reality of it is that I'm just a good time on the side with fat-ass as her meal ticket."

A flash of anger showed in the Queen's face as she twisted around to look at him."Gaspar is more than just her 'meal ticket', as you so eloquently put it. She loves him."

"Then why bother stringin' me along? Why all the games?"

"I can't answer that. Hell, if I could, I probably wouldn't be having these problems with Helm." She grabbed the flask back and took another long drink.

"Love's a real bitch, ain't it?"

"No arguments here. And yet, we keep going back, don't we?"

"Yeah…why is that?" He took the flask and drank deeply. "I mean, Vera doesn't really care about me, and Helm obviously doesn't care about you, so why do we still want them?"

She grabbed the flask from his hands and took a gulp. "I don't know…maybe it's because we can't have them."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Silence. "Hey, you listenin'? I said…" Grisham glanced over and found his companion sprawled out on her back. A loud snore let him know that she was still in the land of the living. He gently pried the flask from her hand and moved to take another swig, only to find that it was empty. Maybe next time we'll stick to wine, he thought, tossing the flask aside. Whoa…did I just say next time? Watch out Marcus, people might think you're goin' soft. He took another look at the sleeping Queen. Then again, who cares? I didn't get to where I am by caring what people think of me.

Carefully, he scooped the bandita up into his arms. "Better get you someplace safe. Don't wanna get back to town and find you sleeping it off in jail." After thinking a moment, he decided to take her to the Alvarado hacienda, which was closest to where they were at that moment. At least the barn would be more comfortable than the hard ground. He just hoped the gypsy woman found her first, because the senorita would probably send for the troops—once she'd recovered from her fainting spell, of course. Grisham carried her back down to where his horse was waiting, taking it slow in his somewhat intoxicated state so as not to drop her. After a few awkward attempts, he managed to mount his steed with the Queen still in his arms. As they rode, Grisham could see her horse following them at a distance.

When they reached the hacienda, he slid off his horse's back and carefully carried the sleeping bandita into the barn. He laid her inside an empty stall and covered her over with one of the spare horse blankets. As soon as he was satisfied that she'd be safe and sound, he left the barn and headed back to his quarters. But first, Grisham pulled a pen and paper from his saddlebag, scribbled a quick note, and tucked the paper into her hand.

Tessa was awakened by the warm rays of the sun shining onto her face. She sat up slowly, trying to will away the pounding headache that seemed to have crept up overnight. Dios mio, what did I do last night? It was then that Tessa realized she was in a stable. More specifically, her stable. How on earth did I get back here?' Almost as if in response to the unspoken question, Tessa discovered a piece of paper that had been stuffed into her hand. She opened the paper to reveal a somewhat hastily written note.

Queen,

Sorry 'bout, you know, tryin' to kill ya last night. Don't know what I was thinkin', really. Hope you don't hold it against me, 'cause, aside from that bit of unpleasantness, it was actually kind of a nice evenin'. I liked havin' someone to talk to that actually understood where I was comin' from and didn't make fun or try an' throw stuff back in my face. Anyway, I was kinda hopin' we could do this again sometime, 'cept without the unpleasantness and the scotch. You know where to find me.

-Grisham

To say that Tessa was shocked would be an understatement. It was hard enough to believe that Grisham had brought her back to her place instead of killing her while she was unconscious, but he actually wanting to meet with her again was almost inconceivable. And yet, the proof was there in her hands. Should I? I mean, it was kind of nice talking to him, once we got past the whole 'killing me' thing. And we do have something in common. Then again, he could just be trying to lure me into a trap. But if he really wanted me dead, then why didn't he do it last night? Dios, when did everything get so confusing? As the sun's rays became brighter, Tessa decided to try and sneak back into her room, hopefully before Marta woke up and realized she was missing. After a few moments of indecision about what to do with the note, she carefully folded it up and tucked it away inside her corset.

The End?