A/N: Sorry for being away so long…writer's block and I'm so busy. A double major in college isn't as easy as it looks! I will try to update as much as I can, I haven't given up on this story yet!

What do I pay you men for! Get out! All of you!

"Grisham! How did the Queen of Swords escape right under your nose? You're not doing your job anymore? Is that it? Did you feel you can just slack off the moment we had the queen in our clutches? How many times did she took off just when we caught up with her? Is that your doing! ANSWER ME!" Montoya's roar sent the horses tethered outside into fits of anxiety.

Knocking over his own chair, the incensed colonel stared hard at his stoic captain trying to determine what's going on in the blonde's head.

"What happened out there Grisham?" Trying to calm himself down, Montoya looked steely at his fool of a captain. He gauged the man's reaction, Montoya was trying to bide his time to figure out what went wrong.

Something was amiss. He felt that the Queen's escape had something to do with Grisham's doing, but it wasn't the usual fool-hardy tactic. No, Grisham had something up his sleeve. Montoya wants to know exactly what.

"The Queen tricked me! She said she knew where the rest of the gold was in the treasury. She knows our plans for them!" Grisham exclaimed angrily. Inside, he was busily composing a coherent story for the colonel to believe. He was expecting this, but with Montoya's temper, he can never be too sure of the response or action.

In that moment, the captain's question was answered.

Montoya stepped up to him and slugged him.

Exploding pain and Grisham blacked out for a brief moment. He stood limply after his vision cleared. He refused to show weakness. There were times that he groveled for the most absurd things, however, this is not the time. His has principles, he could easily kill Montoya with his bare hands, he had the experience. But he won't. There's too much at stake. Grisham can't risk the plan on his usual impulsive behavior.

Glaring at his captain, Montoya took a step back and observe quietly.

Finally he spoke, "Don't tell me you've fallen for the alluring Queen of Swords."

Grisham stiffen slightly, yet Montoya wasn't sure if it was the pain or the statement.

"She's evil, she will take you down with her. I won't be there to help you, captain. Your past will come back to haunt you and I won't lift a finger. You better understand what I'm talking about. It's your choice…are you on her side or mine?" Montoya was ready to strike again. He didn't have to give this speech, but the Grisham was slipping under from his thumb. This incident was not a good sign of Grisham's temperament.

"I'm on my own side." Marcus Grisham's shifted. His back ramrod straight, nothing is going to make him back down. Glittering cold eyes like blue diamonds stared down the colonel.

"I did what I had to do. You know why, so don't ask me. Besides, I can get her back." His flippant attitude appeared.

Montoya looked at his beaten captain. He had to admire the man's courage.

"You better make sure you do. I can't let this continue. The queen's days are numbered!" He shouted back. "And so are yours! Now get out of my face!" He took a swift kick at his overturned chair.

I have to get out of here. There's nothing for me in Santa Helena anymore. I've been running away from my past. I can't let this go on. I can't be my own man if I keep letting bastards like Montoya get the best of me!

Breaking the pencil in his hand, he looked down at his own hands. Slowly turning them over and over. Reminiscing all the lives he took.

Flashback to the day of his execution. Why did fate step in and saved him? What did it mean? Back then he was only too happy to just able to leave. Never to look back again. Yet, his conscience buried underneath the hate and revenge is coming out to make him see something he never saw before. He wasn't born this way. He was made to do things he did. He was always the dog that his superiors told to perform tricks. Nobody understands him. The Queen of Swords was his anti-thesis, a personification of his hate, the woman in black was his enemy…the rival was his equal, the woman was his time and energy…she was his obsession.. Call him twisted yet in the heat of a fight, she made him feel…alive.

Scowling at her worn out expression in the mirror, with a brush in hand Tessa struggled with her wayward hair.

That bastard! What the hell is going with his mind! Helping me escape? Did he lost his head? Montoya's going to kill him! Maybe that's his plan, ruin me in the end with my own guilt. This must be another trick. Why would I care if he dies? One less thorn out of my side. He is dangerous, he is corrupt, he is sad and because…

"You feel for him."

Startled out of her reverie, Tessa turned around to see Marta looking at her.

"Who? What!" A little blush colored her cheeks, she was embarrassed to be caught in her daydream.

"I didn't know what the cards meant before, but this is out of the ordinary. I couldn't comprehend how, but I'm starting to see."

"Marta I don't know what you're talking about! You speaking in riddles again." Trying to divert attention, Tessa moved around the room straightening her things.

"You and Grisham are like…how do I say? Yes, yin and yang. There's a force between you two. You must have felt it during combat!" Marta was irritated that Tessa refused to see what's in front of her. She amended her assertions. "I know Captain Grisham works for Montoya and has tried to kill you many times. He has a strong will, but I don't understand why he continues to let you escape from Montoya's clutches. There has to be a reason. And I think you know why, Tessa. You know." She ended gravely, Marta realized Tessa had stop walking and was staring hard at her.

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore." Tessa replied wearily.

Taking a look around her room. Tessa looked down at her hands turning them over and over remembering their mockeries and battles. Each tease and slash was their way of pushing each other away. Each time their sword come into contact, they speak their hate and rage and each blow their mutual oppression. The fury in black against the blue hate. Yet between the physical and verbal exchange, there was an understanding that one couldn't comfort anywhere else. This was essentially home for them. They fight like enemies but they fight like lovers. They can't express honest emotions to the people in their lives. Only toward each other, can they be real with their emotions. In more ways than one, they are truly alike. That sentence was uttered by Grisham in the mine awhile back, Tessa was immediately livid by the declaration. But she knew that she couldn't face the truth out loud.

Staring at Marta, looking beyond the wise eyes…Tessa realized that it was useless to deny it to her guardian. Marta knew just as much if not more than Tessa is willing to admit.

But even if she cared about Grisham. So what? He won't change who he is. I can't change him, so what is there to do?

There's no future for them. Therefore it can't happen. They can't be together. It's a hopeless ending.

She sighed into her hands. "I can't change the past. I can only anticipate the future."

"You can set him free." Marta said quietly. Knowing the truth as well. There will be no happy ending, but there was one thing they could do or at least try.

Tessa looked up. A small smile replaced her previous frown. A new thought occurred to her.

"Yes, I think I can do that. It's the least I can do."

Slamming the door open, the queen stepped into Grisham's sleeping chamber.

Whipping his bed sheet off, "You're coming with me."

Glaring at the woman for his disturbed sleep, Grisham reached for his pistol only to see the barrel pointed at his nose.

"Do you want to make it harder than it should be?" Her sweet voice taunted him to get up.

"Where are we going?" His eyes narrowed into slits.

"We're going to fly!"