Alejandro glanced up at his son as he sat down at the breakfast table.

"Slept in a little?"

"I needed it," Diego said, matter of factly. He grabbed a few pieces of toast and buttered them, accepting a hot cup of coffee from the serving woman with a smile of thanks.

"You look like you slept well," Alejandro said, nodding. "You've been very busy lately."

Diego raised an eyebrow.

"Riding lessons, helping me out with the chores, studying Zorro," Alejandro said gently. "I have noticed that you are trying."

"I do want to make you proud," Diego said. That bit was true, why not admit it? "To do that I have to improve myself."

Alejandro frowned slightly. He put his hand on Diego's making him turn to look him in the eyes.

"I have been proud of you from the day I heard you were born," Alejandro said firmly. "Do I understand you, not really, but am I proud? Always."

"Thank you, Father. It is encouraging to know that," Diego said.

"I have tried to tell you for years, on and off. You don't have to be exactly like me to make me proud. Or to make me love you," Alejandro said, his eyes growing concerned as he spoke.

"I know you love me, Father," Diego said, placing his other hand on top of his father's. "If I ever gave you that impression, forgive me."

Alejandro shook his head. "Just checking. It is hard being a father sometimes. It is hard to know you, Diego. You have changed over the years."

"For the worse?"

"No, not at all. I expected you to travel a different path, that's all. If something happened at university, something that hurt you… What I am saying is, you can come to me with anything. Anything at all. I will forgive you, or accept you no matter what. If there is a problem, I would like to help you."

"Where does this come from, Father? I thought we were doing fine."

"Someone was talking, and I am thinking about what I am missing with you," Alejandro said, cryptically. "I mean it, if you need someone to talk to, I am here. No judgement."

Diego smiled a little. It was always an uncomfortable feeling, seeing his father worried about him. He wondered what his father thought was going on. He wondered who had talked to him, and what they had said.

"You don't have to talk right now, of course. Anytime. I will focus on you, I promise."

"Thank you, Father," Diego said, not sure what else to say.

Alejandro smiled and left the table, obviously a little more content with life. Diego sat and ate his toast slowly, dawdling over his coffee. The rain pelted down outside, making the outdoors seem very unpalatable. Diego felt suddenly very lonely, knowing he was more than likely to remain inside.

He could catch up with correspondence with his European friends. He needed to reply to several of his university friends, and re read their letters in order to remember questions that needed answering.

Zzz

Later that day, he dozed near the fire, seated at his writing table, his head resting on his folded arms. Several letters had been written, but the one under his arms had a large smudge from wet ink.

Felipe dashed in from the rain, after obediently scraping his boots outside of mud. He noticed his mentor sleeping at the desk, and nudged him awake.

"Huh?" Diego said, sleepily, as he raised his head. "Oh Felipe. I think I am done with letter writing for the week," he added, noticing the mess under his arms. He stretched and yawned.

"The rain is making me sleepy today," Diego said, standing up to get the blood flowing again.

Felipe was signing again, a little excitedly.

"MacKay is a little disappointed, is he? A little annoyed?"

Felipe frowned. The men at the hacienda loved to gossip about their closest neighbours and the talk was growing more serious everyday. Some of the men were considering taking the gossip further, maybe even to Alejandro.

Felipe signed as much to Diego, and Diego frowned.

"Definitely not a laughing matter," Diego agreed. "I'm not sure what to do about that man. The alcalde would tell me not to worry, because anyone trying to catch Zorro is a good man in his books. The general public are in danger if that tripwire was anything to go by. MacKay doesn't seem to care much about innocent bystanders getting injured. The road was rarely used, but people do use it. I am not sure why he even picked that road."

Felipe sighed and sat down on the chair closest to the fire. He was cold and shivery, but warming quickly.

Diego watched as the teenager signed a few more movements.

"Yes, this man is a danger, but not something we need to overly worry about. He is a vaquero, so his duties take most of his time."

Felipe frowned and obviously disagreed, his movements getting a little more frantic.

"With you to watch over me, I am in great hands. Felipe, dry off and then get back to your studies. I'm relying on you."

Felipe shrugged and made a few movements in reply.

"Believe me, I take into account everything you tell me," Diego reassured him. "I just don't think he'll act as quickly as you think."

Diego made his way to the piano, and sat on the bench, his fingers reaching for the keys immediately. He ran his fingers over a few scales, aware that he hadn't played for a while. He played one of his favourites absentmindedly, without notes, more playing for fun than performance.

Diego's head was busy with thoughts of Victoria, almost more than usual. The tears that came to her eyes, the look of concern, the fear in her voice...what was he doing to her? What else could he do than what he normally did? Felipe was his usual excitable self, and MacKay was just the average Zorro hunter, why did it play in his mind so much? He tried to treat it lightly, but the back of his head was thinking that it was a serious risk to engage with the man. A job for Zorro and his sword, not Diego with his words. MacKay was not going to stop his pursuit just because Zorro was reluctant to engage with him.

The response to MacKay's trap had been to destroy it. MacKay would be more than annoyed by that. He had thought it a surefire way to capture or kill Zorro. He had shown himself to be decisive with the tripwire, which would have definitely injured or killed Tornardo, and the pit below the trapdoor had had sharpened logs on which his rider would have been impaled. Diego shook himself a little. It wasn't a joke, he told himself. It was all very well to treat it lightly, but seeing it for himself had chilled him to the bone. Pretending it didn't, didn't make it so.

MacKay was a dangerous, determined man, who'd stop at nothing to get Zorro, dead or alive. Diego frowned as he realised it was preferably dead.

Zzz