I like reading the stories on fan fiction about one of my favourite TV series, and I like trying to write them myself.
Reading stories from other writers, you can't help noticing that the journey to Santa Paula and the following night in a windmill gave a lot of inspiration.
This story is my take on that famous night.

I hope you enjoy it and if you do, you know what to do.

Still, I do not own anything of the series.

Night in the mill.

Chapter 1

It had been a long day.
A journey to Santa Paula was always tiredly, and Victoria was not used to riding on a horse all day. She always used her cart. It was a slower way of travelling than going on horseback, but she only made the travel far from Los Angeles if she needed to get new supplies and pay her mortgage. Never for any other reason. Today, however, there had been another reason. Last evening she heard that Don Alejandro had fallen from a horse and had asked don Diego to go to see the emissary to talk about the needs in the pueblo. About how the alcalde misused his authority, how taxes were way too high.

It had taken her precisely two seconds to come to the decision she should not let don Diego go on his own. How could Diego convince the emissary that he needed to investigate the actions of the alcalde?
Don Diego, a man so modest that he could not even stand up in the tavern to claim the last piece of his favourite pie from sergeant Mendoza.
There was no way don Diego could impress that emissary. No, she was to go with him and help him., making the emissary listen. She needed to tell about how poor farmers got robbed of their land. How peons got whipped for not able to pay their taxes or forced to slave labour. Why most shop owners left the pueblo, not able to sell their goods because no one had money to buy anything. All this being reasons why she had risen early this morning and left Diego no other choice than to agree she was going to accompany him.

Victoria had been wrong and was willing to admit that now.
Not to don Diego, of course. No, only to herself. She had been amazed by Diego. He had strong arguments and seemed to know precisely what was going on in the pueblo. She had heard him tell things of which she was even unaware. Often she was always up to date for the latest news in the pueblo.
Perhaps Diego was less with his head in the clouds than she and his father had always believed. The emissary had seemed very interested in Diego's story and had promised to send someone to investigate the actions done by the alcalde.
Satisfied by the result, Diego had wanted to go back to Los Angeles as fast as possible. To tell his father their visit had been a success.

Victoria herself had wanted to stay in Santa Paula for the night. Not used to long rides on horseback, her muscles hurt. Victoria did not want to tell Diego. And that was why she had tried to convince him the weather goes to change, and she had been right.
A storm had caught up with them, and now they were forced to spend the night in this stupid abandon windmill. Cold and deserted. Most of the branches they found were not dry and, the fire they managed to make provided with some light but almost no warmth.
Victoria was hungry and cold, and if only Diego had listened to her, they would be in a nice warm inn by now. Having had a nice filling meal, and not only some dry biscuits and half an apple.
Victoria, forgetting that all the food they had eaten was all brought by Diego. Just as the blankets on the floor. She had only brought a rifle.

Diego was on the other side of the mill, sleeping! Of course, the man was sleeping. What else? She was sitting here, close by the fire, hoping to get some warmth. And Diego had laid himself on the floor, wished her goodnight and had not moved since. Victoria supposed she was lucky he wasn't snoring.
Victoria gave an angry look at his back, wrapping his jacket a little closer around her. It smelted nice and comforting, very familiar somehow. She thought as she closed her eyes and tried to relax a bit.
No, it did not smell familiar. Victoria did not want to think that. She did not want to think how his smell remained her, of how it felt when Zorro hold her in his arms.
It sure smelled like Zorro. No, it was not! Zorro smelled differently, more manly, Victoria tried to tell herself. But why was there a little soft voice in the back of her head saying she was fooling herself?

A sigh again. Remembering how minutes ago the door had been blown open. Diego had closed it faster than she had been able to understand what had happened. All the warmth that had been in the mill was gone. As she had stood in a corner shivering, Diego gave her his jacket. His body heath hung still in the jacket for seconds. And it had felt so nice.
Diego had looked at her as if he wanted to kiss her. Victoria had almost reached closer to him, wanting to push her lips to his. Just in time, she had come to her senses and turned away from him.

And now, she kept seeing his icy blue eyes piercing in hers. It had felt like he wanted to tell her something. It was freezing outside the windmill, it was raining cats and dogs, and the wind was strong and cold.
She looked at Diego, who was still asleep. He must be freezing, just wearing that thin linen shirt, for he had given her his jacket. Oh, Diego, how wonderful he had been today at the emissary. Why wasn't he more often as fierce and strong?
She had been so impressed. Not just by his speech but by his entire performance. Diego had seemed 2 inches taller and so much more handsome and confidant. A small smile appeared on her face. Or maybe that was only her imagination, for she had finally admitted to herself, she still liked Diego more than she was willing to admit to anyone.
She always had some kind of slight crush on Diego and had been a little jealous sometimes when Diego paid lots of attention to other women.

Of course, she only loved Zorro. Victoria had given up on Diego years ago. She was not a fool. Victoria knew she didn't stand a chance. After all, Diego was totally out of the league for her. He was related to royalty, and she, she was nothing. And even if that hadn't been a fact, there was that other woman Diego loved. The mystery woman. ictoria hated her. Victoria did no even knew a name, but she hated her. That woman had no right to Diego's love. Hadn't Diego told her himself that that woman didn't love him back? That she was in love with someone else? Stupid girl!

What was not to love? Diego was the most handsome, gentle, friendliest, kindest and greatest man in all of California. Except for Zorro, of course.

Again a deep sigh, Victoria stood up from the bench. She wasn't going to get any sleep, already, know that. Not with Diego laying so close to her, she could hear his breath. Victoria was never going to admit it, but she still had feelings for this man.
She took her blanket from the ground, shaking the sand off. Victoria walked to the other side of the bench and kneeled beside him. Without wakening him, placing the blanket carefully over Diego. Frustrated, wiping away a tear rolling over her cheek as she barely touched his hair. Victoria said the words she only said in her most secret dreams. "Querido, I love you. If only you could love me back."ad she said that aloud? Surely not. She loved Zorro. Zorro was her one true love, and Diego was..., Diego. Standing up again, Victoria went over back to the bench, seating herself on it.

Tears came now faster. It was hopeless. Her love for Zorro and Diego both were hopeless. One will never have her, and the other did love her and could never be together. One was her soulmate, and the other was a man you had to admire. During the day's Victoria's mind wandered off to Zorro. How hopefully, someday, they could be together.

At nights..., she did not dream of Zorro. She dreamed of someone else. Someone, about she wasn't supposed to dream. Victoria had tried to convince herself for a long time it was Zorro's eyes she dreamed about at night, knowing better by now. The eyes she saw in her dreams weren't his. The eyes belonged to another man, and now even Zorro's smell reminded her of that man.

A man who would never consider wanting someone like her. A simple tavern owner, a woman that did not have what it takes to be the wife of a noble caballero and the perfect dona.

.

.