I do not own nor profit from any way, shape, or form from Disney's Zorro that was so beautifully portrayed by Guy Williams.

"Why, hello, my pretty señorita." Lolita Anna Lisa Esperanza Pulido cringed as the bandito's rancid breath struck her.

Her uncle's shadow fell across her as he stepped before Anna Lisa, barring the gunman's view. "She is a child, barely fifteen! You will not sully her with your foul gaze." The setting sun was in her eyes once more as the bandito struck her uncle with the butt of his pistol, knocking him to the ground.

"Uncle!" she cried out, her voice echoing that of her aunt. The tears she swore she would not show now sprang to her eyes. She moved to join her aunt beside her uncle on the ground, but the bandito grabbed her arm, pulling her against him. She had never seen such a look directed at her. She was terrified.

She closed her eyes and prayed that she would awaken to find this was merely a horrid dream.

The cry of a cracked whip rent the air near her and the rapport of a pistol soon followed. The oppressive presence of the bandito disappeared. She dared to open her eyes.

The light was gone. Only shadow remained in her vision.

It was a rider on a horse as black as pitch. The shadow passed her, slamming into another of the banditos, the size and force of that magnificent horse throwing the man several feet before he landed, unmoving in the distance. The dark shadow then split into two furious fighting devils.

One man.

One horse.

Both equally fierce opponents.

The horse took out another bandito with its hooves while his rider played a deadly dance with another, the glitter of polished steel and a grin the only contrast to the all-consuming darkness of his presence.

Her heart seized. She clung to her aunt as the older woman regained her feet, helping her husband to rise. His mask—the man in black—denoted him as yet another bandito, and he was more intimidating than the first. When he finished with his opponent and turned his gaze on them, the fading light made him an even more ominous creature.

She burst into tears.

"Oh, no, señorita!" a voice with a very pleasant timbre objected. "Please, I beg you, do not cry!"

A handkerchief—as dark as the rest of him—was suddenly pressed into her palm. He had gently taken her hand and upturned it to receive his offering.

Her eyes followed the line of slender, gloved fingers from her wrist down the line of a silken sleeve, and up to a pair of gentle hazel eyes. She was caught.

A whinny to the side broke the spell he held over her, drawing her eyes to the stallion, the fading light painting fire across the stallion's glistening form. Her face must have shown her awe.

"Toronado, mi amigo! It seems you have stolen the señorita's attention from me. And here, I thought we were friends!" the bandito in black said with a light laugh. Even in the fading light, she could see the golden flecks that danced in his eyes as he turned his gaze on her once more. The laughter shown in those eyes put her heart at ease. "Do you find my friend handsome, señorita?"

"Sì," she answered with a trembling smile.

The bandito grinned at her and her heart skipped a beat. He turned back to his mount. "Do you hear, mi amigo? The senorita thinks tu es muy guapo." At the bandito's words, the stallion began to playfully prance, tossing his head in a manner that could be interpreted in only one way. He was preening. "There will be no living with him now!" the bandito said, throwing up his hands as he turned back to Anna Lisa.

Anna Lisa could not help it. She laughed.

"Ah, señorita, that is much better," the bandito said, taking the handkerchief, still unused from her hand, he gently applied it to her tears. "Your smile is far more beautiful than your tears."

She wasn't sure why she did it, or how she could forget that they were not alone. Her aunt and uncle may have been standing in stunned surprise at the unusual behavior of this bandito, but they were still there.

Anna Lisa had just forgotten it.

She had forgotten it so well that she stood on her tiptoes and planted a chaste kiss at the corner of the bandito's mouth.

She saw his eyes widen in surprise, heard her aunt call her name in a shocked tone, but before she could be recalled to decorum, she was caught by the merriment that suddenly danced in those eyes. "Careful, señorita, or you may capture the heart of a bandito," he whispered, taking her hand again and placing a soft kiss upon the back.

"I would like that very much, señor," she told him, enjoying the surprised look that returned to his face. She smiled softly at him. "I would very much like to capture your heart," she told him, "if you would let me, señor?"

"Zorro. I am El Zorro." She had not heard of him before, but she took note of the name. She had a feeling it would not be long before he made a name for himself, and she hoped, that when she was old enough, she would find him again, and capture him, as surely as he had captured her.

"I am Lolita Anna Lisa Esperanza Pulido, but Lolita is my mother. I am called Anna Lisa. I am going to Spain with my aunt and uncle," she told the bandito, "but I will not be gone long. I will capture you when I return, señor," she told him, a hint of mischief in the dimpled smile she gave him then. "Try not to be caught before then, please?" she asked, giving the hand that still held hers a squeeze.