That Night at the Windmill
By Illaesazaikasha
Rating: G-ish to PG-ish. Nothing adult happens here.
Summary: What if Diego had been quite literal with his answer when Victoria asked him what he needed most?
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from somewhere else, I don't own it. If it's new to you, then it's mine. If someone sold this to you, then it's illegal and I definitely didn't get paid so don't come after me looking for it.
Author's Note: I was cranky and tired, and when I managed to watch this one scene after over twenty years of never seeing a single episode of this show after putting in a 12-hour shift at work it struck me that perhaps the double life as Zorro and Diego is at least twice as exhausting. Could he have been honest with what he needed most at that moment?
"What is it you need most?" asked Victoria.
Diego sat up, stared at Victoria, and then blew out a breath. "I need…" he began, staring at her.
"Yes?" she pressed.
"I need…" Diego stifled the yawn that would have been profound and jaw-cracking. "I need to sleep."
He laid back down again, ignoring her as she rolled her eyes and turned back to the fire. He could have answered that question, and still been honest, a few dozen different ways. Truth be told, he still had been plain and honest.
Exhaustion settled over him like a heavy cloak and he wanted nothing more than a full and complete night of sleep.
And not just desperate and short grasps at sleep after riding out at night as Zorro.
One, real, true and full night of sleep where nothing disturbed him. Pillows just so. Blankets just so. No soreness or wounds to roll over on and bring him back up from sleep with a sharp gasp, or to be pulled from a full night by some sort of emergency or an irate father wondering why his son was still in bed so late.
He longed for it almost as much as he longed to hold Victoria who was so close, yet so far away.
Perhaps someday.
Sleep was almost falling over him when she brought him back out of it as she continued.
Sleep could wait.
She was here.
It was good enough.