Disclaimer: *sigh* As always, I do not own the characters or ideas/references that may lead to whomever owns Zorro. The plot and anything else unrecognizable is mine.
A/N: Terribly sorry these are so short, I have a nasty habit of figuring things out just a little bit at a time though. I hope you enjoy my newest installment.
Elena tried to stay up but the events of the day had made her weary and she found herself hard pressed to stay on her feet. She had one of the servants bring her a chair out to the balcony but soon enough the night chanced upon her slumping in the chair and finding it hard to keep her eyes open. And then suddenly she felt muscular limbs wrapped around her. She recognized Alejandro by his smell of horses, leather and aftershave. Reaching up she held his hands and rested her head against his hard chest.
"So? How did it go?" she was curious what Joaquin wanted to do that he couldn't ask his parents about. He had always been a major part of the family and this was the first secret thing she had ever heard of coming from her son.
"He was meeting a girl," Elena could hear the smile in Alejandro's voice. But she was puzzled.
"Why couldn't he have just asked us to go see her?" she wondered aloud, talking more to herself than she was to Alejandro.
"Because it's not just any girl… she is Esmeralda," Alejandro was still smiling… but why did that name ring a bell to Elena? She knew it, but she could not place a face to the name. Alejandro sensed her confused and so revived her memory of the child, "She is the governor's daughter."
That was when Elena remembered. They had been introduced to her at the governor's party a couple years ago. She had seemed so sheltered and it had reminded Elena of her life before Alejandro when she still believed she was the daughter of Don Rafael. He had never let her do anything without his blessing and she was kept under his thumb the first twenty years of her life. And then they had returned to California and she had seen Zorro and was intrigued from the moment their eyes met. Then her eyes met the same eyes only now they were those of Don Alejandro de la Vega, and she was captivated. She wanted to know him better but he would play two different people and it was terribly confusing for her. But none of that mattered now. The problem, it seemed, was that Joaquin had fallen for a girl much like herself.
"We should go to bed before he returns; he should be coming soon," Alejandro whispered, "If he sees we are on the balcony he may not ride in." And alas, for once, her husband was right; she let him help her to her feet and lead her into their bedroom. She changed slowly, deep in thought, and when she had finishing donning her nightgown and her other bed time rituals she slipped beneath the covers and succumbed to sleep within seconds.
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