Disclaimer: Based on Disney Zorro. I don't own any character nor seek to make any monetary profits. Any characterization mistake is mine alone.

"Puppet"

Don Alejandro de la Vega sent a mischievous boy to Spain, and a man returned, his nose buried deep in books.

"Ride to the pueblo with me."

"Yes, Father." Diego put his book down and stood.

"Oh, and bring your file with you," added Don Alejandro.

His son nodded. "I shall do that." He went to his room to get ready.

The elderly don was held in jail. His potential rescuers looked at the sturdy lock.

"Break it," ordered Don Alejandro.

His son took out a long slender metallic tool, and put it inside the lock, breaking its mechanism. He opened the jail door.

"Thank you, my boy."

"Oh, no. It's my father's idea to come, so it's him you should thank, not me."

By then, the unconscious cuartel guard whom Don Alejandro coshed on the head woke up. He didn't hesitate to sound an alarm, and, in a matter of seconds, all the garrison soldiers came out to surround the three fugitives.

"De la Vega! I always knew you would be trouble."

Don Alejandro glared. "What are you going to do with us?"

The capitan stroked his chin. "Hmm. I should simply throw the lot of you in jail. But then I'd have to endure this scene again if someone else came to 'rescue' you."

"If I may make a suggestion..." started Sergeant Garcia.

The capitan whipped toward him. "Quiet!"

"You could perhaps consider letting them go," the sergeant continued in a voice near whisper.

"Yes, you could," Don Nacho chimed in. "I haven't done anything wrong."

The capitan eyed him up and down. "Those are only your words, and we all know the words of the condemned are not to be trusted."

"At least give me a fair trial!"

"A fair trial, you say?" A sardonic grin curved the capitan's lips. "Why not?" He turned toward Don Alejandro. "Plead your case. If you succeed, I shall let all of you go free. Otherwise, I'm going to devise a suitable punishment for all of you."

Don Alejandro's eyes went round. "You want us to plead our case here?"

"Of course, Don Alejandro. I don't want words of this attempted jail-breaking to leak out and undermine my authority, so I have to know what to do with the lot of you before morning comes."

"But what could we do here? We don't have paperwork, witnesses, or anything necessary to prove Ignacio's innocence."

"Tsk, such a voice of doom. I'm almost disappointed, Don Alejandro. Aren't you the one who always leaps first and looks later?"

"Put your brilliant mind to work, Don Alejandro. I know you can do it."

Don Alejandro rolled his eyes at Don Nacho. "Flattering me isn't going to get you out of this coil, my troublesome friend."

"Indeed." The capitan drew out his sword.

Diego took a step back. "What are you proposing to do with that dangerous thing, Comandante?"

"I am well within my right to cut down the lot of you." He held the sword at his side, the point to the ground. "But that wouldn't be fair, would it?" He eyed Don Alejandro's sword. "Fight me, and try to win, for it would be the only way for you and your troublesome co-conspirators to get out of this coil without much scratch."

Don Alejandro's face was white. "Why do you want to fight me?"

"You are a thorn in my side, de la Vega. I welcome the opportunity to kill you in a fair fight."

"Mi capitan, perhaps you should not express that sentiment so openly."

The capitan arched a brow. "Sergeant, are you perchance trying to sabotage my proposed duel?"

The sergeant gulped. "N...no, mi capitan. I wouldn't dare."

The capitan gave him a sweet smile. "Good. With you being so useful, I wouldn't want to court-martial you just yet. Leave two lancers here to be witnesses and guards, and take the rest away."

"Am I to return here after I carry out your order?"

The smile got even sweeter. "Of course, my dear sergeant. I wouldn't have you miss my duel with Don Alejandro for the world."

Clutching his torn and bloody right sleeve, Don Alejandro glared as if he'd like nothing better than to burn his nemesis to death.

"Tell me why I should spare your life," the capitan offered.

"Because killing me in cold blood would have the people revolting," Don Alejandro spat out.

"Not pleading for your life, I see. But you seem to exaggerate your own importance in this...charming pueblo, don't you think?"

"Even if I do, my son would have avenged me."

The point of his rapier pressed a little more into Don Alejandro throat, drawing blood. "That self-confessed bookworm?" A world of sneer seemed to be put into the word. "He looks like he wants to escape into himself, so curled up like a ball he is." He shook his head slowly. "It is impossible, Don Alejandro, much as I dislike to shatter your illusions. Or do you have another son who is a fighter?"

A sound of whip cracking rent through the night. His sword dropping to the ground, the capitan clutched at his abused wrist.

"Who are you? Show yourself!"

In answer, a black-caped masked man walked out of the shadow. "I shall duel with you, Capitan. If I win, Don Alejandro and his friends go free."

The capitan rubbed his wrist. The infernal whip left a few red marks but no blood. "Who are you?" he repeated, scowling.

"I am El Zorro." The masked man flicked his gaze toward the dropped rapier. "Pick up your sword, Capitan."

Don Alejandro got on his feet and blocked the way. "Wait a moment here, my black-clad friend. You are not fighting my duel."

"No, I am not," the man who called himself Zorro agreed. "Your duel is finished when he is the victor. Now I'm challenging him to a new duel."

"Seize this ruffian!" the capitan yelled at his subordinates.

With a flick of his wrist, Zorro brought his sword point straight to the capitan's throat. "Drop your weapons and stay where you are if you want your capitan to live a little longer."

The two lancers looked at the sergeant, who nodded glumly. "Better do as he says," he told them.

"A wise decision, Sergeant."

Don Alejandro and Don Nacho picked up the discarded muskets and covered the two lancers with them.

Zorro smiled at the sergeant, who fidgeted with his hands. "Ah, I've been remiss. This leaves you unaccounted for. I would ask the young senor to guard you, but he seems incapable at the moment." He indicated the curled up cloaked figure, who seemed robbed of speech.

"Don't gloat yet, Senor Zorro." The capitan gave him a mocking smile. "Lancers! Come out here!"

Zorro shook his head. "Do you really want to try my patience that far? I would rather not do any killing, but if you insist, Capitan..." He pressed the blade a little closer, drawing a small nick of blood from the capitan's throat.

"Keep it down, soldiers!"

"What?" Sergeant Garcia looked around in apparent confusion.

A series of knocks sounded on the cuartel gate. "Shut up and let us sleep!" Angry voices in similar vein chimed in.

The sergeant walked to the gate. "I am sorry for the disturbance. Please go home."

"Disturbance?" There was a world of disgust in the capitan's voice. He leveled his unfortunate subordinate with a burning glare. "How dare you, Sergeant?!"

"I think he dared because your shriek was loud enough to wake the dead."

Now Zorro was the recipient of the capitan's glare. However, it was a cold one. "My shriek, eh? You think you could mock me with impunity, you fancy masked demon?"

Zorro tilted his head. "Considering that I am the one holding you at sword-point, I am reasonably sure I could."

The capitan hissed at the reminder. He kicked at the dusty ground, startling Zorro into freeing him from the sword-point. Seeing his chance, the capitan grabbed his sword and lunged forward. Sighing, Zorro put his sword in a defensive stance.

The sergeant's eyes went round. "Capitan, look-" He fell forward.

"Perhaps you should look out for yourself first, eh, Sergeant?" Don Alejandro jabbed his ill-gotten musket into the fallen soldier's back.

"Did you just use your leg to trip me?" he demanded in an aggrieved voice.

Don Alejandro was a picture of innocence. "Why would you say that? It was an accident. I just happened to put my leg out when you came forward."

The sergeant sighed. "Yes, you did trip me. Well, let me up, please."

"Are you going to behave and not do anything unnecessary?"

"Well, you have the gun, so what you say, I obey." He gave an uneasy glance at the capitan. "For now."

"All right." Don Alejandro let the sergeant stand. "Watch if you must, but don't interfere. This is a duel, even if your capitan is not worthy of the honor to be in one."

But what actually happened seemed to belie Don Alejandro's words. The two combatants seemed evenly matched in fencing ability. When one thought Zorro might gain an upper hand, the capitan pushed him back. The same was true when the capitan appeared to have an upper hand.

No one was quite sure how much time had passed, but, for a while, there seemed to be no sound other than that of metal clanking. The few people in the courtyard were absorbed with the duel.

Sergeant Garcia appeared fascinated. "We could use someone with his ability. A pity he's an outlaw."

"On the contrary, Sergeant, I'm happy that his being an outlaw prevents him from becoming your capitan's underling."

"You sound like you admire this bandit, Alejandro?"

"Not at all, Ignacio. He's just the better of the two devils."

The capitan's acute hearing picked up this last part. "Devil, eh?" he growled, "I'll show you one." He ran toward Don Alejandro, who by this point decided Garcia was harmless and no longer used him as a shield.

Zorro took out his whip and cracked it so that it wrapped around the capitan's legs, causing him to fall. "Not so fast. Your opponent is I."

Unable to loosen the whip binding his legs, the capitan looked up and gave a sullen glare. "I don't care to fight you."

The masked man shook his head. "You're not going back on your words, are you?"

"I never agreed to fight you. Moreover, you are just a common bandit, so why do I have to deal with you like a gentleman?"

"So I'm not a gentleman? That is all right with me." He looked to somewhere behind the capitan. "Adios, Senor."

"I wouldn't dignify that with a like senti-" The capitan crumpled to the ground, having succumbed to a flower pot on his head.

The masked man smiled. "Thank you, Senor."

The caballero nodded. He started to walk back, but suddenly clutched at his stomach.

"Don Diego looks to be in pain. Perhaps I should assist him."

"You do that. But first, would you be so kind as to bind our good capitan and his loyal lancers?"

The sergeant glanced at the unconscious form and shook his head. "I would not, Senor Zorro. No matter what else he is, Capitan Monastario is still my commanding officer."

"Ah, I can't fault you your scruples. I'll have to do that myself, then." A smile curving his lips, Zorro used his sword to scratch three times into the capitan's jacket. He then bound up the three soldiers with his spare rope. "It's not very sturdy, but should be enough to buy time. You'll open the gate and let Don Alejandro and his friends go, will you?"

The sergeant nodded. "And you, Senor Zorro?"

"I'll take my leave of you now, my friends. Adios." Giving them all a quick salute, he leapt over the roof and disappeared.

Don Alejandro glared after the masked man for some time after he left.

"What's the matter, Alejandro?"

"There's something about him, Nacho. Something very familiar."

"Father? Don Nacho? Are you ready to leave?"

Don Alejandro turned toward his son. "You were so quiet back there. Are you all right now?"

"Yes, Father. Sergeant Garcia is everything kind. Although," he added, furrowing his brow, "he did say something puzzling."

"What did he say?"

"That it looked like I'd shrunk. Do I look short to you, Father?"

Don Alejandro shook his head. "No. Whatever could the sergeant mean?"

"I do not know. He eventually said it must be a trick of the light, so I agreed with him. After all, I could not explain how someone could lose or regain their height at will."

"No, I suppose no one could explain that," Don Alejandro said slowly. He peered at his son's face. "Your color still doesn't look too good. Let's hurry home and have a doctor check on you."

Diego shook his head. "No, no. I am feeling well, despite my color." As if to belie the truth of his words, he swayed a little on his feet, so his father had to catch him.

"Perhaps not quite all right, yet," he admitted in a sheepish voice. "But I'm much better." He gently let go of Don Alejandro's arm and stood firmly without swaying.

Don Alejandro gave him a quizzical look. "But what was the matter with you?"

"Ah, perhaps something I ate earlier didn't agree with me."

"You haven't over-imbibed, have you, my son?"

A blush washing over his face, Diego tugged the back of his ear. "Would you mind terribly if I had?"

Don Alejandro smiled. "As you've redeemed yourself by avenging me on Monastario, I forgive you."

"Oh, the flower pot. It was perhaps a bit cowardly, but hiding in shadows is my way of fighting."

"There is no coward's way of fighting, as long as your heart is in the right place."

"You relieve my mind, Father." He got out a handkerchief and wrapped it around Don Alejandro's right shoulder. "The blood has dried, but the wound needs cleaning. This will do until we get home."

"Home, huh? I'm glad you're already accustomed to referring to our hacienda as home."

"It has always been home to me, before Madrid. Come." He held out his hand. "The good sergeant has opened our way to freedom. Let's leave before the comandante regains consciousness and again wakes irate citizens who want to sleep."

The capitan stabbed at the tears in his jacket. "What is this?!"

"It is a Z, mi capitan. For Zorro, I suppose."

"I know that, Baboso!" He shoved the jacket at the hapless sergeant. "See that you get it mended. Or I'll see to it that your head roll."

The sergeant gulped. "Si, mi capitan." He took the coat and made a hasty exit from the capitan's office.

The capitan sat down behind his desk. "Just you wait, Alejandro de la Vega. Just you wait." He steepled his fingers together. "This masked demon of yours won't always be around to rescue you from your folly."

Don Alejandro entered the sala, excitement practically poured out of him.

"Did you hear? Those lancers Monastario sent back were all drugged."

Diego looked up from his book. "Oh. That's why they didn't answer the comandante's summon, I suppose?"

"Yes. The capitan is going on and on that the 'masked demon' had something to do with the drugging."

"El Zorro? Wasn't he with the comandante when those lancers slept the night away?"

"He could have drugged them before that."

"But how? They were keeping us prisoners before the comandante ordered them to their rooms."

Don Alejandro shook his head. "I'm not a criminal, Diego. I do not know the working of the mind of one."

"You think Zorro is a criminal?"

"Tying people up, threatening an officer of the crown are not actions of a law-abiding citizen."

Diego nodded. "You're right, Father. Zorro is a criminal."

"And I intend to see him punished."

"Isn't that a bit ungrateful?"

Don Alejandro waved his hand about. "Bah! It's you who saved us in the end. And he would have stolen my duel."

Diego stood and put a hand on his father's good shoulder. "I sympathize with your sense of ill-usage, Father, but if I may make a suggestion?"

"What suggestion?"

"The comandante isn't going to be happy that we are walking free, not after his humiliation last night. Perhaps you and Don Nacho should play least in sight, or go somewhere until he finds another target to vent his ire at."

"That's true. We should go to Monterey to report this tyrant to the governor. Are you coming with us?"

"I'd like to, but the comandante would be free to terrorize the people if we all leave."

"That's true." Don Alejandro put a hand under his chin, appearing deep in thoughts. Then he clapped his hands. "I have it! El Zorro is here. Monastario will be after that masked man. We don't have to leave, after all."

"Let Don Nacho go to Monterey, Father. He was already in jail once, it'll be easy to jail him again on some trumped-up charge the comandante sees fit to devise."

"That's true. So Nacho leaves, and we stay."

"To tell the truth, Father, I fear you might still be the comandante's target. Zorro might not care to appear again."

His eyes gleaming, Don Alejandro waved his son's worry away. "Posh! Someone like Zorro is a hero - noble to the core. As long as Monastario has free rein of this pueblo, Zorro would keep appearing to foil him."

Diego looked anything but impressed by his father's prognosis. "How can you be certain Zorro is a hero? Didn't the man wear black clothing and a mask? That's a bandit in my book."

"Else, he lost his way from some masquerade party." Don Alejandro grinned and patted his son's hand. "Don't worry about it, Diego. I know a hero when I see one."

"But you want to see this hero punished," Diego reminded his father.

"Ah, yes. A man shouldn't be above the law. Shouldn't take the law into his own hands."

"Even when the law is unjust?"

"Si. He should go through a proper channel."

"As in, sending a letter to the governor?"

"Exactly."

"Then I am your man, Father. There's nothing I love more than writing letters." Diego sat down and opened the book he'd been reading before his father shared his startling news. "Well...perhaps not as much as I love writing poetry, but I suppose that doesn't signify."

Sitting down next to his son, Don Alejandro beamed. "You are a good son, Diego. I am so proud of you."

"Thank you, Father. But I'm a bookworm."

"Son, being a bookworm has nothing to do with it. You are so obedient, a father couldn't ask for a more perfect son." He pulled his son up into a quick embrace. "See you at supper."

Long after his father left the sala, Diego stared at the blank paper on which he was supposed to write a letter to the governor. "A perfect son, am I?" he said, wrinkling his nose. "A perfectly dull son, more like." Letting the paper flutter to the floor, he picked up his book and started for his room.

He only got a few steps when his toe encountered a small dark object. Crouching down, he examined it. With no visible emotion on his face, he picked up the object and continued on his way.

After supper, Diego played the guitar, while his father took to enjoying a glass of wine.

Don Alejandro clapped his hands after his son finished a particularly complicated piece. "That's excellent, Diego."

"Thank you, Father." He put away the instrument and came to sit beside his father.

"Madeira?"

"No, thank you."

Don Alejandro raised his eyebrows, but he returned the glass to the side of the table and simply sipped from his own glass.

"I wonder, what other skills did you learn at the University?"

Diego shrugged. "Oh, the usual skills. Dancing, singing, playing other musical instruments, drawing, painting, cooking. And needlework, although I can't say I'm particularly good at stitching in a straight line."

Don Alejandro looked over his son. A smile curved his lips. "And lock-picking, don't forget."

"That's an easy enough skill. In fact-" Diego's eyes seemed to see something from far away. "I'm sure Ros could pick a lock easily if she ever saw a demonstration. There is no need to pay for a university education to learn it."

Don Alejandro opened his mouth, then closed it. A few moment later, he said, "Not to mention such a fine institution wouldn't teach you something borderline criminal, in any case."

Diego put a hand behind his head. "Well, I must remember not to use this skill more often than necessary, then."

"I'd prefer we didn't use it at all, but well-" Don Alejandro gave his son a sheepish look "-learning that Nacho was arrested affected my thinking."

Diego squeezed his father's hand. "It was a good idea, in any case. That guard didn't keep the jail keys on his person, for fear someone with our idea could easily steal them, I suppose."

"Lock-picking is a useful skill, and your ability with it has helped us. But let's move on to something else."

"What would you like to talk about?" A slight wariness crept into Diego's voice.

"Oh, this and that." Don Alejandro waved his hand about. "Whatever you want to tell me."

"I...ah. That encompasses so many things, I wouldn't know where to start."

"Starting at the beginning would be good."

"That would only work if I'm telling you a story," Diego said, chuckling.

Don Alejandro chuckled in response. "Then tell me a story! I want to know the son I've sent away for so many years."

"Ah, perhaps you would like to hear how I met my manservant, Bernardo. He was doing a magic trick involving a fancy, most hideous orange pocket watch when I first stumbled onto his path."

"Well, Senor Zorro," Diego addressed the black-clad doll in a voice devoid of emotion. "In my distraction, I failed to return you to my father. So you'll have to put up with my gloomy company for a little while longer."

Outside of his son's slightly ajar door, Don Alejandro paused in the act of knocking. "I'd better not demand it back just yet," he murmured. "Even though it is only a puppet, it'll do the boy good to have a rival." His smile turning grim, he returned to his own room.

Don Alejandro de la Vega sent a mischievous boy to Spain, and a bookworm returned. He would do well to remember that.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. On reflection, some events might not make much sense, but I hope this chapter isn't too unbelievable. Either way, I hope you enjoyed it, at least a little.

For now, I'm treating this fic as a series of loosely connected (same continuity) short stories. There will be at least five more chapters (none of them are written yet, but they will be), but possibly a lot more. After all, it's not often I get to write what are essentially Don Alejandro's fantasies. :)

Next Chapter: "Frost"