One Special Night – Alt Storyline #2

"Goodnight, Diego." Victoria shifted her body to make herself as comfortable as possible. The sound of the rain impacting against the rooftop prevented her from falling asleep and her mind wandered to the day's events. There was too much that was unexplained but she found herself unable to voice the questions that rested on the very tip of her tongue.

She stared at Diego's back, watched the uneven rise and fall of his shoulders. He wasn't asleep either. Why was she finding it difficult to reconcile her image of the man she had come to know very well over the last few years with the man who had spoken with such fiery passion to the royal Spanish emissary mere hours before.

She had never seen Diego so determined to win an argument, so determined to make someone, anyone, see his point of view.

He reminded her of another who fought with such fire for what was right. However, that was the man she loved, and he usually made his point at the end of a blade. Victoria was finding it difficult to reconcile her image of the two men. When he so chose, Zorro could also make his point with wit as sharp as any metre of steel. So different, yet very similar, from the man who lay separated from her by a simple wooden bench.

She sighed and curled her arms inside the large jacket that was wrapped snuggly around her shoulders. She was chilly but the jacket was keeping the warmth her body was generating within the folds of the material.

Staring at Diego's back, she suddenly remembered that he had given her his jacket! He must be freezing with only that thin linen shirt to cover him.

Why they hadn't thought to bring in their bags off the horses saddles, she couldn't remember. Diego had ushered her into the abandoned windmill just before lightning and clasps of thunder rumbled around their ears and the downpour began in earnest.

She moved to sit up, but some nagging thought prevented her. Why was she all of a sudden worried. She shook her head. What did she have to be frightened about? This was only Diego. She had been friends with him since they were children.

She grinned inwardly. Since they were children. How the Diego she remembered from back then would have loved to be stranded in an abandoned windmill with her. She could almost see his mischievous grin and shuddered to think of what he would have suggested they do to keep warm. She knew it would have only been a tease, but she now wondered what it would have been like to have the, then confident and overbearing, caballero hold her.

Now Diego seemed almost shy and uncomfortable around her. She couldn't understand it. What had happened to him in Madrid that had made him so uncomfortable around women? He never met her eyes. Tonight was one of the rare nights where, when he wrapped his jacket around her, he'd actually looked into her eyes. She couldn't remember the last time he'd done that. It was an endearing, yet odd, feeling to have such an affect over the man. She had even been uncomfortable under the piercing blue gaze, but he had been the one to turn away first and the unspoken questions had been lost on her lips.

After a few moments, she forced herself to speak. "Diego?"

She knew he wasn't asleep and she wanted to talk to him. She doubted she would be able to get any sleep with the thunder echoing around the deserted windmill anyway. It was so rare that they had a few moments alone to talk. Alone? Is that what she really wanted; to be alone with him? She shook her head. That was ridiculous.

For several seconds, he didn't answer her and she thought for a moment he really was asleep.

Diego fumbled with the choices he was now faced with. He could pretend to be asleep, and continue to shiver, or he could admit that he was awake and enter into another uncomfortable conversation with the woman he secretly loved.

He had become accustomed to such things when dealing with his feelings for Victoria. He chose the later and slowly rolled over to stare at the young woman through the wooden bench frame.

She sat up quickly, startling him, and pushed the bench out of her way.

He sat up at the noise the bench legs made scraping against the adobe floor and leveled a curious stare at her. Again, she noted quickly, he met her eyes.

"You must be freezing," Her kind eyes caused his heart to somersault and when her hands reached out to rub the chill out of his shoulders, he tensed.

"Victoria, I'm - I'm fine," He stammered. She had caught him off-guard and he struggled to force himself not to shake - from the chill or his forcibly restrained desire, he wasn't sure. "You - don't need to - do…"

He shrugged away from her hands and looked away. "Am I repulsing to you?" Her eyes were glowing with anger. How dare he pull away from her when all she was trying to do was help? What was wrong with him? "You did the same for me when I was cold. And you gave me your nice warm jacket as well. You must be freezing."

She reached for him again and rubbed his shoulders. Thankfully, he didn't see her curious appraisal of him as her hands slid along well-defined muscle. He hadn't the body she'd thought. She carefully scrutinized the loose shirt he wore. Not at all.

Diego noticed her shock before she could hide it and wondered, for the second time that evening, if now was perhaps the time to tell her what was in his heart. His mind frantically searched for the pros and cons of the decision. He would need to do it soon, while he had her in this, what could only be described as a vulnerable, position. It was raining. If she became angry with him, she would at least have to sit and talk it out with him. She wouldn't try to go out in the thunderous downpour. At least, he hoped she wouldn't.

"Victoria…" Diego's lips whispered before his mind had a chance to stop them. He was tired of masking his emotions. Tired of playing the fool before her eyes.

She froze. The soft, firm tone in which he had voiced her name, was so familiar that she had to search his face and features carefully to make sure she was not staring at another man.

He was so close. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek. When she tried to pull her arms away from his shoulders and lean away, his hands encircled her arms, preventing any movement.

His hands were so strong. They held her firmly but gently, again reminding her of how another's touch felt. Her mind was reeling. She needed to get away from him to clear her thoughts. She had only wanted to make sure he was warm. She hadn't meant to give him the impression that she was interested in something else. Obviously, that is what he thought, or he would let go of her arms.

"Diego, I think……."

Any further words were lost on her lips as his mouth covered hers in a soft, gentle kiss.

When she inhaled sharply, he paused. He simply sat there unmoving, his lips ever so gently touching hers.

When she didn't move away, he pressed on, encouraged. He didn't realize that she was frozen in place by shock and fear. When his tongue penetrated her parted lips, she seemed to melt into his chest. Her arms relaxed and she lost all strength to keep herself upright.

When she leaned into his chest, his arms encircled her shoulders and held her tightly. His kiss deepened and she found herself unable to pull away. The shock of her friend kissing her with the familiarity of a lover prevented her from offering any resistance. Her body responded to his kiss, to his caress, so much like it did when the man she loved held her, kissed her.

She still couldn't understand what was happening. She should be incensed and enraged that her friend would have the gall to kiss her like this. These were the actions of a passionate man, not of her quiet, scholarly friend Diego.

But she couldn't even bring herself to speak. His lips felt good, so soft and demanding. Her heartbeat quickened and she flattened her hands against his chest.

With one last determined act, she shoved with all her might against his chest, and their lips parted.

She stood quickly, tears forming in her eyes, and rushed to the corner of the room. She held out her hand when he stood to follow her. It was trembling. With anger or desire, she couldn't quite be certain.

"Don't come near me!" She cried, shaking her head. "How could you betray the trust…"

Diego winced inwardly. Had she been able to figure it out from a simple kiss? Or was she upset that he had taken her act of trying to make sure he was warm, a step further. Well, okay, several steps.

"Victoria," He took a few more steps, holding out his hand toward her.

She slapped it away and while her attention was diverted, he brushed past her defenses and pressed her against the wall. He held her arms to keep them from flinging themselves wildly against any part of his anatomy they could reach. His fiery lady was about to turn her full fury on him.

"Listen to me, please," Diego begged, his eyes searching hers for a way to begin.

She struggled in his embrace but refrained from hurling insulting words at him. For the first time in her life, Diego was frightening her. The determination in his eyes, the strength in his voice and his arms, it wasn't like him.

"Victoria!" His harsh, demanding tone startled her and her eyes searched his for the source of the cry.

"Listen to me now," Diego's voice softened but still had that dangerous edge she had always associated with Zorro.

With Zorro! Victoria's eyes narrowed and she shook her head. It couldn't be. There was no possible way……

"I need to tell you something. Something I have been meaning to reveal to you for a long time."

She shook her head wildly, her hair flying about her face, "No, I don't want to hear it, Diego. I don't want to hear…"

"That I love you."

She stared at the floor, afraid to look into his eyes. How had she not known this? Or – had she known all along and simply refused to admit it?

When he reached down to lift her chin up, her eyes met his, and she held her breath. She had seen those eyes before. Had gazed into and dreamed of them often. Dios! Why had she not seen it before! He had been standing next to her all this time and she didn't even notice!

"I have kept a secret from you that, once it is revealed, could put you in more danger than I wanted to be responsible for." His voice was still firm, but the tone had softened. It was barely audible over the pounding of the rain, the clasps of thunder and the slamming of her heart.

"No," She shook her head, as if such a simple motion would deny what he was trying to say. She refused to believe it. It was too impossible. There had to be something different, something else that he had kept from her. He had just admitted that he loved her, maybe that was it.

She wrenched her shoulders away from his hands and turned her back toward him. Her frazzled mind frantically tried to search for an explanation for his behavior. She could only come up with one that fit everything strange about the day's events. Each little piece of a well constructed puzzle began to fall into place.

She had imagined Zorro to be someone - different. Someone she hardly knew. Not someone she knew so well. Not - not, Diego.

"So you wanted to be responsible for what then?" She hissed through clenched teeth, returning her thoughts to what he'd just said. She still did not look at him, but her tone changed as her ire at the situation rose sharply. When he didn't answer, she continued, color rising in her cheeks as her anger grew. "Riding about the countryside risking your life. Each day not knowing if you would come home alive? No one knowing what had happened to you if you didn't?"

She rushed around him when he reached for her trembling shoulders. She stopped and stared out the small window at the wind bending the trees and tossing the brush around as if they were insignificant twigs.

"Were you not concerned with how those who cared about you would feel if you were suddenly killed for a reason they didn't understand?"

Her voice had dropped again and he leaned closer to hear what she was saying. He was torn. What could he do now? She was upset with him, at their situation, and he could tell that she was desperately trying to hold onto the shreds of her temper. He'd finally done it and now he needed to be a man and stand up to whatever she had to say. Hopefully, she'd listen to his explanation once her anger cooled.

He reached up and rested his hands firmly on her shoulders. When she did not wrench them away, he wrapped them around her and pulled her back into his chest. One hand pushed a few disarrayed locks of hair out of her face and he leaned over to whisper into her ear.

She instinctively arched her neck, the familiar feel of his arms around her momentarily causing her to forget that she was standing with the man beneath the mask and not with the masked man himself.

"Please forgive me," His breath was warm against her neck. "I would never willingly hurt you."

His lips brushed her neck and she shivered. He knew she craved Zorro's touch. But would she crave his, as the flesh and blood man behind the indestructible mask?

Her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned heavily against him, her anger subsiding with each brush of his lips against her skin.

When he turned her around and pressed his lips to hers once again, they opened like a blooming rose, ready and willing to receive his kiss. His hands cupped her cheeks and pulled her deeper into his embrace.

Her mind raced to comprehend what she was feeling. Her body responded to his every touch, his every caress. Just like it did on those rare occasions she found herself in the arms of the masked man she loved. Her body felt like it was floating. She had no control. He was holding her by her neck, it seemed. And it felt good. She leaned into his chest to keep her balance.

The kiss continued for several moments until the wind slammed into the window behind them and shattered it, sending shards of glass toward the embracing couple.

Victoria shrieked and Diego wrapped his body around hers to keep the glass from cutting her.

Diego could feel the shards cutting into his skin as he pulled her away from the window. The fire was blown out almost immediately and the rain plummeted into the small building.

Diego pushed Victoria around to another, somewhat contained side of the windmill, and ordered her, in a hauntingly familiar voice, to stay there.

Wind and rain blew through the room as Diego gathered the blankets and threw them towards Victoria.

"Cover yourself with them!" He cried over the howling wind. He grasped what he could of the wood that had not yet been soaked by the rain, and began to build another fire.

Victoria shivered Diego worked with the wood, trying to get a spark to ignite.

"It's no use," Diego sighed after a few minutes and threw the sticks aside in frustration.

Dried tears marred Victoria's dust covered face, and in one moment, accepted the fact that she had loved the same man for longer than she could remember. Her heart felt lighter, finally knowing that the real man behind Zorro's mask was someone she knew and had loved for a very long time.

She was hurt that he had never confided in her and she would be sure to bring that up at a more convenient time. What was important now was that they get through the night without catching too much of a cold.

She opened her arms and beckoned to him offering a small, knowing smile when he hesitated for a short moment. Concern welled in her eyes when she noticed his shirt was wet. She could see several blood stains from where shards of glass had struck him.

When started toward him, he knelt beside her and allowed her to take a look at the scrapes.

When her fingers moved quickly to the buttons on his shirt, he tensed. This was not something that should be happening – not now that she knew his secret. Desire had always ran rampant between them and if he was expected to remain honorable, he needed to place a bit of distance between them. His mind warred with his body and before long, she had his shirt unbuttoned to his pants before he could find his voice to object.

She slipped the material off his shoulders and dried the blood from several cuts. One fairly deep one along his shoulder would need better care. There were several others along his side and chest and one on his back, but, much to her relief, they were not deep. His eyes darkened as he watched her gentle fingers worked to stop the bleeding and clean the wounds as best she could.

When she'd done all she could, she slid his shirt back over his shoulders and wrapped one of the warm blankets over him.

"I can't do anything more now. That one will need to be looked at when we get back to the pueblo. Make sure infection doesn't sit in."

It was his turn to open his arms and he watched as indecision raged in her pretty brown eyes. She lowered her eyes and found herself nose to nose with a very powerful, very muscular chest. She sighed deeply, her sense of propriety warring with her growing desire.

He grinned and pulled her gently into his arms before she could change her mind and move away. His arms wrapped protectively around her, warming her as the wind howled outside.

As the night dragged on, and the tortured couple could not sleep, Diego began revealing his story. Beginning from the day he returned from Spain, he told her of his adventures as the masked man and of his deep desire to love and protect her.

She wept at his stories, remembering the times when she had looked at him as less than a real man, the times she had insulted him or hurt him with her biting words.

How he could still love her so fiercely after those things had been said, she didn't know. She only knew that she was the luckiest woman in the world to have a man that would risk so much for her.

As the rain subsided and the sun peeked it rays over the horizon, the couple fell into a deep sleep, wrapped in one another's arms.