Victoria swept the floor moving around the customers easily and smoothly. Her cliente were moving on, heading home for bed. Slowly they dwindled into a handful of increasingly drunk men, eying her staff with ever interested glances. Pilar darted away from a swipe towards her bottom, and Victoria gave the man a glare.

"Senor MacKay, can you keep your men away from my staff?" Victoria said, in frustration. It was the fifth escape Pilar had had that evening, and her friend was close to tears.

"Senorita, men want what they want," MacKay slurred with a shrug. "We would be prepared to pay a little extra, for a little extra...if you know what I mean."

Victoria went forward to meet the challenge with force, but found herself pulled back gently but firmly.

"Victoria, stand back for me," the whispered warning breathed in her ear. Zorro had arrived, quietly, secretly. "I may need some space."

"Senor Zorro, I presume?"

Zorro bowed smoothly, a hand on the hilt of his sword. He eyed MacKay's pistol, still tucked into its holster for now.

"At your service," Zorro said. "I trust that these ladies are safe from you and your men?"

"I had no idea they were under your protection, senor. Of course, we will mind your boundaries," MacKay slurred, with raised eyebrows. "Men, it is time for bed. Senorita, I trust we can have some quarters for the night?"

Victoria sighed, and glanced at Zorro. "I will be close at hand, senorita," Zorro said.

Victoria noticed a tinge of tired frustration in her hero's voice, but nodded.

"Pilar, can you direct them to the far rooms?"

Pilar paled noticeably, but noticeably. "I will be watching and listening," Zorro said, for both the men's and the visibly shaking woman's benefit.

The men followed the servant to their quarters, with MacKay falling behind.

"I have heard about you, Zorro."

"Good things, I hope," Zorro answered with a tight smile. His hand had not left the hilt of his sword. Victoria felt the air hum with a sense of both men sizing each other up, and held her breath. Neither seemed about to disturb the fragile peace in the tavern, and for that she was grateful.

MacKay nodded, and followed his men up the stairs.

Zorro let out a small sigh, and sat at a bench. Victoria was surprised.

"Are you alright?" She asked, touching his arm. Was he injured? Was he sick?

"Nothing is wrong, Victoria. I've been very busy these last few days, as you know."

"I have a bed for you as well, if you need it."

He smiled slightly. "Those men will assume already that we are lovers, let's not confirm suspicions."

She was startled a little.

"I didn't mean that."

"No, I know you don't." She sighed as well. Did she really? If he meant to share her bed, would she deny him? Could she?

Reputations? Even Zorro thought along those lines? It was just so restrictive, Victoria thought.

"Diego was talking about reputations," she said slowly.

"Diego can be a very wise man at times," Zorro said, shifting his long legs to relax a little.

"Would you like something to eat or drink?"

His eyes flickered to the kitchen, and Victoria wondered what he would ask for, if he asked for anything. She didn't even know his favourite food. His eyes returned to her and searched her face strangely.

"What would you suggest?"

"I can make some churros and chocolate if you like," she said. Most people had a sweet tooth. Coffee would be too strong for this time of night. Oh, if he would stay a while, she could put up with a hundred drunks…

Pilar made her way downstairs, still shaken, and Victoria gave her an embrace.

"Are you alright, Pilar? It was a hard night," Victoria said gently. Pilar nodded and glanced gratefully at Zorro. Then she slipped out into the night, to make her way home.

They were alone. Something hung in the air, an expectation, a sense of them both being unsure of what to say or do.

Zorro cleared his throat, and stood up.

"Please don't go so soon," Victoria said softly. She made a move to touch him again, and then dropped her hand. His safety was the most important thing. If he had to go, he had to go.

"I want to wait a while," he said thoughtfully. "Those men were very drunk, and hopefully they will sleep. Hopefully. I will stay as long as I need to."

She brightened a little. "Well, I will start making those churros and chocolate."

Zorro's eyes went upstairs as he obviously listened for a few moments. He nodded with some satisfaction, and followed Victoria into the kitchen.

Zzz

She chattered aimlessly as she prepared, stirred and cooked. Later she would not remember what was said. His eyes were on her face as much as possible, two pools of light from the mask, as if he was drinking in every word.

He sat a distance away, as he always seemed to, when they were alone. He normally avoided showing her a good view of his masked face, as if she could see through the black silk to the man underneath. He normally paced the room like a caged animal, like a panther in a cage. His strength oozed from him in waves, normally. Tonight it was subdued, waiting, held beneath the surface, hesitant and wary.

"Is anything wrong between us?" She asked, as she poured two mugs of rich, thick hot chocolate. He startled out of his gaze and his expression changed.

He came closer and took his mug from her. He stood still, gazing down at her.

"Why would you think that?" He asked softly. She could feel the sense of closeness that she often craved far more than she would like to admit. She wanted his arms to embrace her, for his lips to descend on hers and forget about the difficult day.

Instead, he sipped his chocolate and sighed.

She guided him to sit beside her at the table, but he sat opposite her. She was worried, she didn't know what to say. It was a sense of something different, of uncertainty, where there was normally security and certainty. She shivered, and sipped her own chocolate.

She rose to fetch the plate of churros, and as she placed it on the table, his gloved hand reached for hers.

"Do you love me?" He asked, a whisper softer than she had ever heard from him.

"You know I do," she said. He glanced down, and then back up to gaze intently in her face.

"The man is asking, not the legend," he answered. He let go of her hand. "I'd better go and check those men are behaving."

"Zorro, wait," she said, reaching for his hand again. He let her take it.

"The man is a very nervous one," she said gently. "You know I told you I love the whole of you, man, legend, all of you."

"Words are words," he said bluntly. She was startled. "Actions are more."

"I don't know who you are," she protested.

"If you truly loved me, you would work it out," he answered. He let go of her hand again, and left the room.

Victoria frowned, and wondered what was going on. Why on earth would he be acting so irrationally? Had she offended the man under the mask? Was it true, would she work it out? Could she work it out?