AN: I know crossovers are not extremely popular on fanfiction, and I think it's because good ones are rather complex and quite hard to write. It's part of the reasons why I wrote this story. A personal challenge if you will.

Set in two timelines, the first part of the story covers the events leading to and following Zorro's unmasking as a result of the events set in motion by Duncan Macleod and an Immortal OC; the second part takes place in 1998, after the show's finale.

If you are only fans of one of the shows, do not worry! I made sure to explain enough of the other so that you don't really need to have seen it before reading this.

Why Zorro + Highlander? Because, when I decided to write a crossover with Zorro, Highlander was the one show which made sense. The TV Series' main character, the 400 year-old (in 1992) Duncan MacLeod, was alive in 1820s, when the action of NWZ takes place, and, according to the show's timeline, somewhere in North America, so why not in California? The man did like to travel! Plus, the two shows do have some things in common, including the attractive, dark-haired, honorable hero with a talent for swordfight and a wish to protect the weak.

Disclimer: I don't own any of the characters of the NWZ and The Highlander pantheons. I do own the OCs in this story and the ideas for the plot. I do not make any money from it, write and publish just for fun, but I do not authorize the partial or complete reproduction of the story without my express consent. The use of the OCs can be granted after slight negotiation.

Reviews usually make me happy so leave one if you like the story!

ZZZ

Joe only had a couple of customers at that time. It was, however, rather early. The regulars would only come later.

He was worried, and tending the bar, even if he didn't have to, was his way of keeping his mind busy and away from things that worried him. Like his friends and his own organization.

He had been a Watcher for decades, part of a secret organization established a very long time ago with the purpose of monitoring the activities of the Immortals. Yet recent events had proven they were all more vulnerable than he had previously thought. Not just as individuals. The most concerning thing was that, as time had shown, the organization he had dedicated his life to was vulnerable. It had been infiltrated; its mission and knowledge corrupted and endangered; its most important treasures stolen. People he had called friends paid for all that, and good Immortals, some of those his predecessors and peers had once hoped would live to be the last, had lost their lives because their secret had been uncovered. At least Duncan was still alive, and so were Methos, and Amanda, and a few others of the good ones still left.

Joe took a sip of a new cocktail his normal bartender had just created and threw out the rest. No way he would serve that.

Returning his thoughts to the conundrums of his real profession, he admitted to himself that he had been naive. Naïve to think that observing was possible without involvement, and that involvement was possible while keeping true to their mission. Nothing was that easy!

The door opened and some of the outside cold air followed a tall, brown-haired, good-looking young man inside. There was something familiar about him, yet Joe was rather certain he had never seen him before.

He eyed the stranger for a few moments, as the man took a seat at the bar and asked for a glass of red wine.

"Are you even 21?" Joe asked his caramel-eyed new client, who was politely grinning at him.

"22. I look 22." He answered instead. "But no. I am much older than that. However, I was 22 the first time I died."

The information was volunteered and Immortals never volunteer such information to strangers.

Joe's smile faded at his words, and he stared at him slightly puzzled.

"You're an Immortal?" He dared ask, glad there were not many clients in the establishment to overhear their conversation.

"I am. A two hundred-year-old one. And you are a Watcher."

Joe eyed him suspiciously. He doubted there was such an old immortal who had, somehow, managed to escape notice, but he didn't have the power to sense if he was or not telling the truth. MacLeod would know as soon as he'd get there. Immortals were able to feel other Immortals when they were nearby. Did he just say I was a Watcher? Do all Immortals know about us now? He wondered.

"What is it you want here?" He wondered as he placed the requested drink in front of him, never losing sight of the young man.

"I understand Duncan MacLeod spends some of his time in this bar when he is here. I was hoping I might have a word with him. Unless you'd prefer to give me his address." The young-looking man answered.

"What makes you think I have it?" Joe replied.

"As I had already mentioned. I know who you are… You either have it or know someone who does. But I understand your reluctance. You have no idea who I am and what kind of person I am. So I will just wait here for him."

As he glanced at a TV Joe had placed in a corner of his bar, the advertisement on the screen captured his attention and he smiled almost involuntarily. "Anthony Hopkins? What a strange choice."

"I'm sorry?" Joe questioned as he, too, glanced at the screen to see the trailer for The Mask of Zorro,

"He's what? 5' 8"? 5' 9"? They had him playing Diego de la Vega. I find that funny because the real Diego de la Vega was about 6' 4". And Esperanza was the name of his mare, not that of his wife. He did name one of his daughters Elena, though."

"What are you talking about? Zorro is nothing more than a figment of someone's imagination. He wasn't real!" Joe informed him.

"Not real? He was the only father I can remember. Diego was real enough, I assure you."

"Your father?" Joe mocked, then remembered who it was the man claimed to be. Not a young man, but a rather old one. One he didn't know existed.

"Yes. He found and raised me, even adopted me as his own son. I used to be a deaf-mute back then, but he never even considered giving up on me, even if he was barely twelve years my elder."

"You really mean that? Or is this some kind of joke? What's that called - candy camera or something like that. Are we on it? I mean, Zorro... everybody knows…"

"What people know is what a friend of mine once wrote, after I had spent months telling him the real stories. He decided Zorro was too good of a character not to get his own novel. The real Diego, though, was much better and had a much nobler spirit than the one in his stories. He was also what people would call a 'Renaissance man'. My mentor and one of the greatest men I had ever met. He had the mind of a savant, the heart of an artist, and the skills of a perfect warrior. If I could have chosen, I would have rather he'd be the immortal one instead of me. But, then… he never could get himself to take another life… Perhaps he wouldn't have lasted too much in our world, come to think about it."

"So… you say Zorro actually existed?"

"Oh, yes. He had a Toledo-steel sword, a black stallion called Tornado, and sacrificed a decade of his life fighting for the people of Los Angeles. And I helped him do that, right from the day he first put on the mask. I was… twelve or thirteen at the time, if I remember correctly. Helping him remains my proudest achievement to this day, you know? My real name is Felipe, by the way. Diego called me that. God knows I don't remember anything before the day he found me, not even my first name."

"That is quite a story!" Joe remarked. "Felipe…"

"De la Vega. My name is Felipe de la Vega. I was born around 1800 in what was then New Spain. Mexico now. I became an Immortal in 1822."

Joe wondered how was it that, for two centuries, no Watcher reported on him, but did not ask his question out loud. There was something else he was more interested to know.

"May I ask… Why do you want to see Duncan MacLeod?"

"He's an old friend. I was just hoping for a chance to say hello, and pass him some information about a common enemy."

"I see. May I ask what the name of that common enemy is?"

"Jacob Kell." Felipe simply answered, and Joe's blood drained from his face. "I take it you know him?"

"Of him." Joe corrected.

"Right."

"How do you know about Watchers?"

"I was one." Felipe surprised him by stating. "I've known about you for longer than Duncan has. My father was the one to find out about your existence." He explained as soon as he saw the surprise in the older-looking man's face. "So… Now that I've answered your questions, would you mind telling me if Duncan might pop by today? Perhaps call him to inform him I am here?"

"He said he'd be here at seven." A disconcerted Joe replied.

"Well… In that case, I'll come back then." Felipe told him. "Thank you for the drink." He continued, placing a twenty-dollar bill on the bar, turning towards exit.

"No! Wait!" Joe tried to stop him.

"Is there something wrong?"

"I… As you can see, it's pretty quiet here at this time of day. I was wondering if you might tell me some of the real Zorro stories you mentioned early... And, perhaps the one about how you and Duncan first met?"

The caramel-eyed man though about it for a few minutes and nodded with a smile, returning to the bar stool he had just abandoned.

"Actually… that is a Zorro story, to be honest…" He said as Joe poured him another glass of wine. "It all started in February 1822..."

ZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZH

AN: Yes, I know! A story within a story! If that's not a cliché, I don't know what is. However, since it is a Highlander crossover, I decided to follow (at least, in part) the format of that show. The next few chapters are based on NWZ. Enjoy and review if you did!