Author's Note: ok, this was out a bit later than I wanted it, but it was a pain in the butt to write, and sick betas don't make for quick returns.  And with my grammar skills, I wanted  a second opinion on this before I posted.  Not to mention ff.net was BEING STUPID AND NOT LETTING ME SIGN IN SO I COULD POST!!!  Sorry.  Just a bit frustrated.  This was actually ready to go up on Wednesday, but we call all see how well that worked.  I'll try to get the next chapter up sooner.

Author's thanks at the end.

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"That's what you're wearing?" 

   Tess looked down, trying to figure out what was wrong with her outfit.  She was wearing a pair of low-slung drawstring sweats and a tank-top over a sports bra.  "This is what I normally wear when I'm working out."  Tess picked up her gym bag, and looked at Cora.  "Is there something wrong with wearing this?"

   "Not if you're on your own, but we know how rarely that happens these days."

   Tess grimaced.  Cora had a point.  Sands had been shadowing her movements for the past three weeks.  He'd never approached her – she hadn't even talked to him since her last meeting with Strauss – but she could feel his eyes on her.  It was almost as if they'd never left her little house in Culíacan . . . other than the fact that his spooking in the background was on a whole new scale now and that his eyes burned her, of course.  Sometimes she swore he was just doing his job, but at other times she swore he was undressing her with his eyes.

   I don't know why he would want to.  It's not like he hasn't already seen it all.  The thought almost made her sick with nerves.  She'd never been one for casual sex or one-night stands.  In fact, she'd never been one for sex at all.  Not that she'd been a virgin – her two-hour marriage had taken care of that little detail – but she wasn't exactly experienced either.  Which was why, as much as she tried to forget that night, she couldn't quite make it disappear.  But she was hoping that pure physical exhaustion would help her get it out of her head.

   "I'll be fine.  For some reason, my friend is giving me a wide berth.  He might sit around in his car and stare at me, but that's as far as things go."  Tess slung on a zippered sweatshirt, and grabbed her keys.  "I should be back in two hours or so.  If I'm not, I've got my cell phone.  Make sure that René picks up his room, and tell Carlos that I don't want him online all afternoon.  I've already told them, but they're going to need to hear it again."  With that final admonition, Tess was out the door and jogging to her car, gym bag bouncing on her back.

   Why don't I park the car in the garage? she wondered as she searched for her car key. Finding it, Tess unlocked the car door and practically flung herself inside.  It was cold out.  She put the key in the ignition, then reached to fasten her seatbelt.  She glanced in the rear-view mirror as she did so, and felt her heart stop for a moment.

   Sands grinned irritatingly.  "Careless chica.  What if I had been up to no good?"

   What do you mean, 'What if?'  "I guess I'd been in trouble then," she cautiously replied, not at all certain that she wasn't in trouble now.

   Sands leaned forward in the backseat, intruding on her personal space.  Tess fought the urge to move away, but not successfully enough for him to not notice.  "Do I make you nervous?" he murmured in her ear.

   "Yes," she whispered, unsure of what he was doing.

   "Good."  He sat back.  "Well, what are you waiting for?"

   She twisted around in her seat and stared at him.  "What are you talking about?"  Hadn't she given him enough?  Why did he insist on tormenting her?

   "The gym?"  He was looking at her, his eyebrows raised expectantly.  "I thought you were eager to go get your groove on."

   For the first time she noticed that he was dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt.  He had something in mind.  "You make is sound like I'm jazzercising."

   "What?  You're not up for getting all hot and sweaty and out of breath with me?  I've always compared it to a dance."  Tess blanched and reached for the handle of the door.  Sands surged forward and grabbed her wrist.  "Relax.  I'm talking about hand-to-hand combat.  I want to make sure you can take care of yourself."

   "Right."  Mentally, Tess smacked her forehead, thinking that she needed to grow a backbone where this man was concerned.  Outwardly, she rolled her eyes and looked pointedly at the hand still trapping her wrist.  "I'm going to need that to drive."

   "No you not.  You've got a girly car with an automatic transmission."

   She bristled, but managed to hide that.  In a dry voice she pointed out, "You're right.  But I can't reach the keys."  Sands let her go – she pushed the notion that he might have done so a bit regretfully out of her head – and she turned the keys in the ignition and put the car in drive, cursing Cora for being right the entire time.

*  *  *  *  *

Once they reached the gym, Sands led Tess into one of the private workout rooms in the back.  She looked around warily, noticing the mirrored wall and the padded floor.  She set her bag down, but didn't move to do anything else.

   Sands ignored her, and walked to the middle of the room.  He took a seat, stretching.  A minute passed and she still hadn't budged from the door.  "Are you going to stretch?  It's usually a good idea before pounding the crap out of someone.  Or before getting the crap pounded out of you."

   Tess made a face when she heard the dry mockery in his voice, but she took his advice.  Apparently there was no getting out of this.  And the idea of having the opportunity to 'beat the crap' out of him did hold a certain amount of appeal.

   When Tess moved further into the room and started her own stretches, Sands bit back a grin.  He'd kept his distance because he'd known that Tess was going to be jumpy around him, not to mention that her new knowledge and their last 'experience' together were probably not conducive to getting her to jump into bed with him again.  She was going to take persuasion, and the first part of that was getting on her nerves enough that she'd take the opportunity to get back at him.  He watched as she removed her jacket, revealing her lack of concealing clothes.  For some reason, he'd thought she'd wear baggier clothes – certainly, everything he'd seen her in up to this point had practically covered her from chin to toes.  He raised his eyebrows at the amount of cleavage the tank top in particular displayed, but kept his mouth shut.

   Tess sat down and removed her shoes as well, revealing the fact that she was wearing ankle braces.  Sands absorbed this fact with a bit of surprise – apparently Tess wasn't as perfect as he'd always thought.  She was nuts and she had weak ankles.  The things you miss when you have no eyes.

   She stretched, unaware of what thoughts were running through Sands' head.  First she stretched her legs out in front of her, bending at the waist until her forehead was on her knees and her fingers met behind her feet.  Then she pressed the soles of her feet together, making sure her knees were firmly on the mats, then stretched again.  Then came the splits . . . Sands' mind was running into shady territory by now.  Then when Tess stood and bent over to touch her toes . . . .

   Ohh . . . Sands examined the way Tess rested her hands on the floor as her feet stayed flat and her butt pointed up in the air.  As enjoyable as the view was, he turned away before things got a little too enjoyable.  While he was open to the possibility of getting laid, Sands had to remind himself what his priorities were at the moment.  He really did want to see just how extensive Tessa's fighting skills were.  That had to come first.  It'd be one less thing to worry about on the field.  Tomorrow he planned to take her down to the shooting range and see what types of weapons she knew how to handle.  Handle.  She's got very nice hands for 'handling' things.  "Stop stalling, niña."

   "You're such a nag, Sands."  Tess stood and faced her companion.  As she'd stretched and felt her muscles start to warm, the suggestion of a fight had started to sound better and better.  Anything to rid herself of the underlying tension that'd been making her muscles scream with inaction and her head throb with a low-grade headache for the past weeks.  As much as she tried to deny it, she remembered exactly what had happened between them; she remembered how she'd felt to see him again, how the voice in her head had begged for her to take what he was offering – or for her to let him take what she had once offered – how his body had felt against hers.  It hadn't felt wrong . . . but she couldn't say that it felt right either.  She'd decided that it had felt 'off' and that she wasn't happy that they'd spent the night together.  Reputation is character minus what you've been caught doing.  She'd willingly let him take advantage of her, willingly thrown whatever respect he might have had for her out the window . . . willingly let him manipulate her.  She wanted her respect back.  That was the only reason she was still here.

   They faced off, neither of them saying anything.  No rules or guidelines were set; Sands apparently understood that by offering the challenge, he was leaving himself open for anything she might try.

   Tess waited patiently as he circled her, waiting for him to make the first move.  There was no sense in giving her hand away too early.  Our patience will achieve more than our force.

   Sands finally lost his patience.  He knew Tess knew at least one way of discouraging a frontal attack, so he circled behind her, then tried to pin her arms.  Tess reacted, throwing an elbow into his solar plexus.  Sands instinctively curled around his stomach, avoiding the blow, but quickly recovering.  Tess stepped away, spinning and throwing one arm out to knock aside the punch he'd aimed at her chest.  Sands blocked her return attack, grabbing her wrist and twisting it up behind her back, taking her to the ground in the same move she'd used on him before.  "Just a little too predictable, niña.  Try again."  He let her up and Tess climbed to her feet, a sizzle of anger burning at the base of her neck.

   This time it was her turn to attack.  She feinted a right hook at his cheekbone; Sands believed her, and stumbled back when she caught him on the collarbone with her left foot.  Tess quickly regained her balance, settling back into a defensive position; she was much better at defense than she was at offense.

   The exchange of blows went on for some time, Tess losing more than she won.  Sands quickly analyzed why that was; she refused to press her advantage when she had it.  She'd rather hold him off for as long as she could.  No one ever won by staying strictly on the defensive.  Every time he dumped her on her rear or pinned her to the floor, he made an irritating comment, hoping that anger would do what his challenge had failed to do; she was hiding still.  He needed to see what she was truly capable of.  Tess refused to give in though.  She tried to shrug off his comments, tried to cage the impatience that was building up inside her.  Why couldn't he just accept that she could hold her own if worst came to worst?  Why did he have to push for knowing the full scope of her skill?

   As she was distracted by these thoughts, Sands was able to knock her feet out from under her again.  She laid on her back, looking up at him, feeling her lungs hurl air in and out of her body and listening to her blood pound in her ears.  They'd been at this for nearly an hour now, and she could feel her body protesting against the amount of exertion she was demanding from it.  She was so tired, in fact, that she merely let her head drop back to the mat, aware that she was just amplifying his image of her as a weak woman.  It shouldn't matter what he thinks anyway.

   Sands just shook his head as he stood over Tess.  She'd closed her eyes and her chest was heaving as she tried to regain her breath.  She had a coat of sweat covering her skin, a match to the perspiration breaking out of his face and along his back.  "Take a break, chiquita."  A thought struck him.  "When you no longer look like a call girl who's just earned her pay, we'll pick things back up."  Her eyes opened, anger glinting in their depths.  He smirked.  Looks like Tess doesn't want to be reminded just how thoroughly I know her.  "Not that I don't enjoy the sight – it does bring several delightful memories to life.  Of course, we do have this room to ourselves for another thirty minutes.  If you'd rather forgo the training altogether and have hot monkey sex, then –"

   Tess felt her control over her temper snap.  She lashed out with her legs, taking Sands by surprise; he toppled as she propelled herself to her feet.  Tess launched herself at him, intending to pin him to the floor for once, but he was prepared and flipped her over his head.  She landed on her back, feeling her muscles protest the air was knocked from her body.  Sands was on top of her before she knew it, straddling her body but not pinning her arms to the floor.  It didn't matter, or at least it wouldn't until she could breathe again.

   "What's wrong, Teresa?  Did I hit a sore spot?"  If he wasn't careful, this was going to go farther than he'd planned for this afternoon.  "Don't you like to be reminded that you're just like every other person on the planet and just want to get laid every once in awhile?"  No answer.  "Or is it just that you don't like being reminded that I was the one you eventually let get past your straight-laced exterior?"  Still she said nothing.  Sands resumed the attack, unsure why he was pushing her so far.  It was true that the plan was to eventually get back in her pants, but . . . "Oh, I know what it is.  You don't like remembering what it's like to give all your control to someone you don't like.  You don't like remembering just how good I can make you feel.  You don't like the fact that you liked being treated like a two-bit whor–"  Before he could finish the sentence, Tessa's fist caught his cheekbone.  He recoiled from the blow.

   Tess arched under him, flipping him onto his back, then straddled his waist as her hands locked around his wrists.  She had to make him be quiet.  She didn't want to hear what he was saying, because it was exactly what she was afraid of.

   Sands recovered his wits quickly, looking up at Tess from his position on his back.  He tested her hold and found that she meant business; she was supporting some of her weight on her arms, a double insurance that he wouldn't get free.  Her eyes held a mixture of anger and confusion.  It wouldn't take more than a few words to make her act out on what she was feeling.  The question was, did he want her to?  Why not?  "I should have known you'd like being on top."

   Tess knew that if she didn't make him shut up, she was going to do something she regretted, but her hands were somewhat full at the moment.  Her mind dragged up an image of Tess kissing Sands into submission on a jet plane.  She seized onto that image and repeated the procedure without question.  She was beyond that now. 

   Her body reacted, sealing off Sands' mouth with hers.  Sands felt his own reaction as the low-level arousal that'd been plaguing him for the past hour burst into full-flower.  Apparently the key to getting Tess to submit fully to her desires was to get her so upset that she couldn't think straight.  Unfortunately, by that point, he couldn't think straight either.

   Tessa struggled as Sands rolled them with his body, taking control of the kiss.  His voice was silenced now, but hers wasn't.  She was having a hard time telling if this was a good thing, a bad thing, an imaginary thing, or a memory.  When Sands started to roughly grope her body, she realized that this wasn't a memory or imaginary, but the other two points were still undecided.  Was this good or bad?

   While you're trying to decide that, maybe you should, I don't know, take over again?

   Tess agreed.  She softened her lips enough that Sands would think she was giving in to him.  He bought it, raising his head to look at her, trying to decide just how far it was safe to go at the moment.  Taking advantage of his distraction, Tess again rolled them over, making sure to pin his hips this time instead of his hands.  Her internal battle raged on, giving her no reason to stop or to proceed.  Sands was the one that finally settled her physical indecision; one of his hands wrapped itself in her hair and brought her head down to meet his.

   This time, the kiss was softer, passionate instead of ruthlessly dominating.  As his lips teased hers, Tess felt the argument for ending things now fading before the urge to let things go further.  The sensations were still too new for her to deal with, different from the last time they'd done this.

   When Sands pushed himself up to his knees, Tess moved with him, scrambling to keep some space between their bodies, but refusing to give up their lip-lock.  Sands took what he could get at the moment, sure that he could persuade her to eventually get naked with him.  He had to bite back a moan as one of her hands slid into his hair, playing with the sweat dampened strands with fingers made gentle by uncertainty.  God, this woman was so arousing.  One moment she was fully in command of herself, the next she was as hesitant as a schoolgirl.  Part of him cried out to educate that timid side of her, part said that he was taking advantage of her sexual innocence, and part of him said he really didn't give a damn.  She was a grown woman – she could take care of herself.

   Yes, other than the fact that her own mind betrays her sometimes.  How can you even be sure of which part of her you've aroused?  Maybe it's Tess, but maybe it's crazy!Tess.  Sands deepened the kiss, trying to ignore his conscience.  He'd lived most of his life without it – he didn't need it butting in now.

   Tess moaned as Sands' tongue confidently thrust into her mouth.  This still didn't feel quite right, but it felt good, and she'd so rarely felt good.  If Sands was a drug, then she was well on her way to addiction, and if there was one thing she'd learned growing up in a drug family, it was how well people could be controlled through their additions . . . .

   Sands groaned as Tess pulled free, but he didn't fight her.  It was true that he could probably overpower any doubts that might be running through her mind, but that'd just make things harder for him the next time around.  Tess got to her feet, unpleasantly surprised to find that her knees were a bit shaky.  Nonetheless, she backed away from Sands, slowly shaking her head.  She wouldn't allow herself to be controlled.  Not like this and not by this man.

   "Running, conejo?"

   "Of the 36 ways of avoiding disaster, running away is always best."  Still keeping her eyes trained on the man who was upsetting her, Tess picked up her shoes, jacket, and bag, and left the room before he could say anything else.

    He let her go.  He'd seen the confused and accusing look in her eyes – hardly a look that inspired him to press her for more.  She was skittish and she didn't trust him . . . but she was vulnerable when it came to him.  As nice as that was, it disturbed him that he was somewhat vulnerable to her as well.  It was a good thing that Tess had left when she had, he had to do some thinking about exactly what he wanted from her and how to best do that.

   Groaning, he got up from the floor, ignoring his knees as they let out quiet protests.  He slipped on his own shoes and left the private room, not at all surprised to find that Tess was nowhere in sight.  Not that it mattered at the moment, but she was going to have to get used to working under his command.

*  *  *  *  *

Tess had retreated to the ladies' locker room.  In her state, it would be a mistake to get behind the wheel of a car.  With a single-mindedness that was born of confusion and low-level panic, she went into one of the curtained dressing rooms and sat down on the bench, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her forehead on them.

   Quietly, she tried to catch her breath.  That had been too close.  It was one thing to make a mistake once; it was another thing entirely to make it again.  But no matter how hard she tried to clear her mind, she could still feel the texture of Sands' lips against hers, the heat of his hands.  She realized she was shaking.  With effort, she stilled her body.  Withdrawal, she thought dazedly.  Then, realizing what she'd thought, she tensed.  No.  He's not that important.  If I was going to go through withdrawal, it would have been last year after I'd been around him for months.

   The only second chance we get is to make the same mistake twice.

   I haven't made that mistake yet.

   Yes, you have.

   How?

   You left before you knew how to deal with the feelings and sensations.

   So I should have stayed and . . . and. . . .

   No.

   Then I was right to leave?

   No.

   Fed up, Tess thought harshly, Then just what is it that I should have done?

   It is not possible to fight beyond your strength even if you strive.

   She recognized the quote from Homer.  Just what are you suggesting?  She had the feeling that she wasn't going to like it.

   I'm suggesting that if you don't want to turn into an unthinking pile of goo every time Sands touches you, you need to learn how to cope with the feelings he causes.

   The only way to do that is to experience them, and there's only one way to experience them.  The voice was silent, offering no counsel.  She knew what that meant.  No.  No, I don't think that's a good idea at all.  You felt that.  It was different than the last time.  If every time I . . . become intimate with someone is going to be different, then this is a pointless exercise.

   It's not like I want you to go out and sleep with every man you meet.  Just the one that presents the worst threat.  Once you know what to expect from him and from your body, then you'll be fine.

   And if I do get addicted?  The hormones released during and after sex can be very habit forming.

   Don't worry.  I'll handle that part.  That didn't comfort her.  Look.  He's going to keep pressing his advantage every chance he gets.  What is it that Sun Tzu said?

   Find your enemy's weakness and exploit it.  Tess gave the whole cockamamie scheme some thought.  So, what you're suggesting, is that I shore up that particular weakness before he can get a good foothold.

   It's better than falling into bed with him against your better judgment.  At least if it's your choice and you know why you're doing it, then it shouldn't be that bad.  Irreverently, it added, Besides, he's got a good body.

   Shut up.  Tess realized her cell phone was ringing and that it probably had been for some time.  She pulled the phone out of her bag and answered it.  "Hello?" 

   "Aunt Tess, Amy wants to know if I can spend the night at her house."

   Tess smiled at the plaintive tone in Alma's voice, before the voice in her head butted into the conversation.  Sands would love to spend the night with you.

   Give it up!  It's not going to happen.  "Isn't tonight a school night, Alma?"

    You mean it won't happen tonight.

   "No, Tía.  We have tomorrow off.  It's parent-teacher conferences."

    It won't happen ever.  "Ok.  Then, is your homework done?"

   Sooner or later, one of us is going to wear you down.

   "Yes, Tía."

   Tess put her importunate voice on hold as she considered Alma's request.  "Have you already asked Mrs. Milner?"

   "Yes."

   "All right, then it's fine with me."  Over the squeals and the excited chatter that told Tess that Amy was at Alma's elbow, Tess loudly said, "But I want you to make sure your room is picked up before you go, or I'll come over and get you."

   "Yo prometo, tía.  Adios!"

   When she heard the irritating buzz of a dial tone, Tess hung up, resting her head against the wall of the small changing room.  Taking a deep breath, she realized that the voice had quieted for the moment, and that her body – while sore – was once more under her control.

   Being very careful to remain focused only on leaving the gym, Tess left the dressing room.  She avoided meeting anyone's eyes as she exited the building.  As long as she didn't get distracted from keeping her mind blank, she could keep her voice under control – or at least unaware of what else was going on around her.  And it worked . . . until she got to her car.

   If she had been fully in her own little world, she probably wouldn't have noticed the small note tucked under her windshield wiper, but Tess had learned long ago that being in 'your own little world' was just as dangerous as letting her voice run wild through her mind.  So, since she hadn't closed herself off from the surrounding world, she instinctively reached out and took the note from her windshield, holding it in one hand as she unlocked her car and got back inside.

   You didn't check the backseat first.

   I didn't need to.  Sands got what he wanted . . . for today.  Setting her bag on the passenger's seat, Tess opened the note.

Niña,

      be at the shooting range on Willow Street at 3:30 tomorrow afternoon.  Don't make me come and get you.

Tess rested her head on the steering wheel in defeat.  But I don't like guns.

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Quotes: Michael Iapoce; Edmund Burke; State and Main; Homer, Sun Tzu, The Art of War.

Author's Thanks:  apparently ff.net is backlogged on review alerts and such things, so I am very sorry if I skip anyone this time around.  I would thank you, if I knew who you were.  Hopefully, it is showing me all my reviews, and I'm catching all of you.  If not, I'll be sure to thank you next chapter.

So, with that in mind, thanks go to: C.J. Davis (I liked chapter four.  It was definitely fun to have the 'big important negotiator' get the conversation ripped from his hands, and in doing so, I hope that I managed to build a bit of a sense of understanding between Tess and Sands.); Dreamgirl21147 (I'm sorry this one took a bit longer.  I hope you haven't gone into withdrawal or something.  : P ); Kontara (I don't want to know what sort of plan involves confetti and lemon juice, but it sounds absolutely diabolical.  ^_^  Thanks for catching those two quote mistakes for me – I accidentally forgot to switch cards when I moved on to the next chapter, so I wasn't really sure what went where.); The Flaming Chia Pet (thanks for the quotes!); Sleeping Dictionary (Yes, I hope to get to Carlos in the chapter after next.  With any luck, the story won't run away from me.); Pixy (yes!  Secret Window!  It'll be out in nine days!  And it's rated PG-13.  Was there enough Sheldon goodness for you in this chapter?); Dreamshadow13 (I tried to update soon, I really did.  Things were against me though.  I hope this makes up for the wait.); Adrejon (Yeah, there's a scrap of a conscience left, and it annoys the heck out of him.  ^_^  I can't wait to see how it'll effect what he does.); Merrie (Yeah, I thought I might be ignoring that part of her life a bit much, and seeing as how it's going to be a major part of the story, I thought I needed to dip back into that.  And yes, this sequel at least is harder than the original, and yes, I have contemplated giving up, but I do value my life, so I won't.); nimwen (gotta love tension.  Really.  It's so much fun.  As for 'the ultimate sacrifice', I have some idea of what that will be, but I'm still working on it.); and grace (yeah, humor is definitely a good thing, especially after really emotional chapters.  I'm glad you enjoyed the dream sequence – it was my favorite part to write.)