A/N—I do not own New World Zorro. I did as best I could recreating as much of the exact dialogue as possible—Unfortunately I didn't have access to this episode while I was penning this little…alternative ending. Any resemblance to other fics is completely unintentional—I've read so many fics that I may have inadvertently 'borrowed' an idea or two. Please let me know if this is the case and I will give credit where credit is due.
Reviews are always appreciated however don't flame me too much on the subject matter.
The Alcalde, The Tavern Owner and The Love Potion (or Love Potion #9 Revisited):
The tall silhouette of Don Diego de la Vega was framed handsomely by the sun shining through the window in the Alcalde's office. His tone turned slightly mocking, as he addressed the portly man sitting at the desk. "He called her his 'little grapefruit' and she called him her 'peach'. Between the two of them, they have all the makings of a nice fruit salad."
Sergeant Jaime Mendoza groused about the paperwork the Alcalde was letting pile up while he was out gallivanting around with Victoria Escalante. The odd couple was currently the gossip of the town as they were continually sighted over the past few days in each other's company, holding hands and exchanging kisses. All were of the opinion that the young Señorita had taken leave of her senses if she preferred the company of the crooked Alcalde to Zorro. Although de Soto could be very charming if he so chose.
Diego's sharp, blue gaze followed the couple as they wound their way through the busy marketplace and he scowled.
Oblivious to the young Don's brooding mood, Mendoza waved his hand at a box on the desk. "I wouldn't have to do this if not for Dr. Wayne's stupid potions!"
"These are Dr. Wayne's potions?"
"Sí Don Diego."
Placing his hand on a precarious stack of papers, Diego knocked it to the floor, sending Mendoza to his knees in an attempt to clean up the mess. "These were in alphabetical order!"
Diego took the opportunity to snatch several vials of potion and secret them in his jacket. He bent to help Mendoza who quickly waved off his friend's 'help' with barely concealed frustration. The tall man took that as his cue to leave.
From his vantage point in the shadows on the tavern's balcony, Zorro watched in horror and morbid fascination at the strange passion play unfolding under his feet. His heart began rending itself in two as Victoria bestowed coy looks from beneath impossibly long lashes upon his old schoolmate; looks that had previously been reserved just for him, he thought bitterly. She giggled girlishly at something Ignacio said and flipped her soft curls over a bare shoulder and he had to resist the urge to slip over the railing and pummel the white-haired man to within an inch of his life.
After lifting several of the remaining potions from the Alcalde's office the previous day, he spent most of the night in his laboratory with Felipe trying to discover the chemical properties of the potions. It had been as he suspected all along, colored water and fruit juice. He had also come to the conclusion that he could not challenge Ignacio to a fight nor could he point out Victoria's folly without driving them further into their perception that they loved one another.
No, he needed a plan that would bring Victoria to her senses; and if he made a fool of the Alcalde while he was at it, then who was he to complain?
Some opportune eavesdropping by Felipe and his plan was in place. Now all he had to do was wait for Victoria to leave the table.
Just as Zorro was thinking that he would never get the opportunity, soft cries for help filtered in from outside. He groaned quietly and resolved to deal with the bandits as quickly as possible. No sooner had he stood to leave then Victoria announced she was getting another bottle of wine. Seeing his chance, Zorro quickly lowered the potion to the table below but in his haste, got it too close to Victoria's plate. The cries became screams and he could wait no longer; he disappeared into the shadows, leaving the two lovebirds below to the remainder of their meal.
He had been tracking this particular gang of notorious horse thieves from San Pedro for nearly a week; they were good at what they did and kept him busy for much of the night. Zorro tied the last bandit to the post outside the Alcalde's office just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. The smell of sweat, hot horse and steel, while normally soothing, was almost cloying in its intensity and he found himself suddenly craving the sweet scent of roses that Victoria favored so much.
Ignoring his various aches and pains, he wearily mounted Toronado and circled around the pueblo to the back side of the tavern. Zorro gently swatted the giant horse's rump and he trotted away. The man in black swung himself up onto the roofline and ducked through a small window above the kitchen.
Quiet as a churchmouse, he threaded his way through the curiously empty tavern, wondering only briefly about the lack of overnight guests before remembering that Victoria had been otherwise occupied for several days. He stopped only once, to stare aghast at the remains of Victoria's romantic dinner—a bottle of red wine lay on its side, dripping steadily onto the once pristine white tablecloth; plates filled with food had knocked to the floor; cups were upended; utensils were curiously missing and the tall pillar candles that Victoria prized so much were little more than puddles of wax. Zorro quickly doused the one remaining flame while his mind churned at the implications of the scene before him. It was very uncharacteristic of his love to leave such a mess before retiring for the night.
Worried, he hit the stairs at a jog, taking them two at a time in his haste to get to her room; he paused slightly outside her doo,r heart in his throat, hesitant to barge in without permission but when there was no response to his light knock, he twisted the handle and swung the door open.
Her bed was made—there was no sign that she had slept at the tavern. Disappointed, Zorro was pulling the door shut, intent on finding her, when soft crying caught his attention. He stepped fully into the room them and caught sight of his beloved sitting next to the window in her high-necked, cream nightdress, knees drawn up to her chest, fat tears rolling down her porcelain cheeks.
"Victoria." His soft voice seemed to carry in the still air and she turned to face him, her pretty red lips moving but no sound came out. He could tell that she was repeating the same phrase over and over again. His heart broke at the sight of his love in such a state and he crossed the room in two long strides, kneeling next to her. He yanked the glove off his right hand and quickly cupped her cheek, the pad of his thumb seeming to wipe away her tears of its own volition. Sharp blue eyes met soft, doe-like brown and he suddenly found himself with an armful of Victoria.
Her mantra became audible to him as she sobbed into his shirt. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" He wound his long arms around her slender shoulders, pulling her in to a fierce hug and burying his masked face into her soft, black curls.
"Shhh, mí Preciosa. Shhh. I am here." The seductive smell of roses wafted up from her warm hair and his chest constricted painfully with the amount of love he had for this tiny, fiery slip of a woman. Her breathing soon leveled out and soft hiccups punctuated her next statement. "I really thought I loved him."
"The power of suggestion is a very real and very dangerous thing." Zorro's low baritone rumbled through her small body and soothed her soul as no amount of prayer could.
"Will you ever forgive me?"
"Mí Amor, there's nothing to forgive." He realized then that his statement was completely true. No matter her transgressions, he would always love and forgive her—just as he hoped she would do for him when the time came—he had no desire to find out what had happened after he left. She was here now and she was safe, that was all that mattered.
He leaned forward and gently kissed away her tears and the way he held her so gently made the tears begin anew. Zorro held her until she fell asleep before gathering her up and placing her in her bed. He removed her slippers and drew the quilt up to her neck. She sighed when his thin moustache tickled her forehead as he kissed her gently before letting himself out.
Not quite a half hour later, Diego de la Vega strode into Victoria's kitchen. He stoked the fire and hung a pot of water to boil; he then checked to make sure the 'closed' sign was out and the front door locked before rolling up his shirtsleeves and setting to work cleaning up the mess.
Time passed and in the commotion surrounding the suspicious deaths of the Carvalho brothers, the small debacle of the Alcalde, the tavern owner and the love potion quickly faded into memory for most of the citizens of the Pueblo de Los Angeles.
A/N: You're coming back right? Cause I'm not done yet. Whee! I've got probably another 2 chapters to flesh out before posting but I couldn't wait to get at least a bit of it up. Let me know what you think!