FicWad

Really, Zorro should stop riding to the pueblo in broad daylight! Diego sighed as he sought refuge in the church, masked and clad in black from head to toe, discreetly entering the sacred building through a side door. He had come very close to being seen on the cuartel's roof, and there had been too many soldiers around to take the risk to draw attention to himself by whistling for Tornado. Instead he had decided to let himself slide along the wall and discreetly go to his horse's hiding place.

Except that he almost bumped into alcalde de Soto and a group of lancers near the mission's wall, and Zorro just had time to enter the church before being spotted. Couldn't these damned soldiers ever take a nap in the hottest hours of the day, just like everyone?

He really should have waited for the night before coming here as Zorro, he chided himself.

Granted it was siesta time and the activity was kept at minimum level in town, but still. In fact, he should have carried out this mission last night. Except that he had been far too tired for this: after two nights with very little sleep, one day spent running after kidnappers and another one spent trying to deal with his family's new situation, he had really felt too exhausted when he came back from escorting Victoria home the night before.

He thought again about this ride side by side with Victoria: she had seemed... different. At first she did a lot of talking about Leonor, about how he had been good with her, then about how good he seemed to be with children in general. Next thing he knew, she was asking him about Señora Valdès, about what he was thinking of her, about whether he liked her...

He hadn't wanted to appear like some petty spoiled brat or defensive snotty kid jealously guarding his father's attention, so he answered that yes, he liked her very much. But it didn't seem to convince her of his benevolence toward this woman, because just after that she frowned and kept quiet. He then hardly managed to get five words out of her mouth until they reached the pueblo.

Then, just as they were on the tavern's doorstep, she commented that all this probably made him look forward to starting his own family.

He didn't know what to reply: how could he tell her that it only depended on her?

Well, no, he reflected. It also depended on the local situation. How could he dream of having a family depend on him as long as he still had a bounty on his head?

He could only provide an awkward smile by way of answer. Then he remembered that her question was strictly about what he was looking forward to, what he wanted, not what he thought immediately possible...

"Yes I'd like it... just like everyone, I guess. But I'm sure the happiest person with that would be my father!" he said with a large but slightly strained smile.

For a split second, Victoria looked as though she was about to tell him something but then she simply opened her door, thanking him for the ride home.

"That was my pleasure, Victoria" he replied.

She fully turned to him, hesitating for one or two seconds. Again she looked as if she wanted to add something but she apparently changed her mind at the last minute.

"Well... good night Don Diego..." she said.

"Good night Victoria," he told her, waiting for her to go inside and close her door before turning his back to her and heading home.

She entered and seemed reluctant to shut the door totally, still looking at him as she held the knob in her hand and very slowly closing the wooden panel, with her eyes never leaving his. Would she finally tell him what was so obviously on her mind?

"Err... Will you come to the tavern tomorrow, Don Diego?" she finally asked.

Why this question? he wondered.

"Uh... probably, yes..."

"Alright, see you tomorrow, then..." she murmured, not looking him in the eyes.

Is she going to add anything else? he wondered again.

No. She finally closed the door and after five seconds of stupidly staring at it, he went back to his horse and rode back home.

He had initially planned for Zorro to pay a courtesy call to this Señor Pablo Ortega in his cell and 'persuasively' ask him the names of his accomplices. He had been rather reluctant to give them to the alcalde, apparently partly out of loyalty and partly for fear of retribution.

But when coming back from escorting Victoria he arrived within sight of the hacienda, he knew that his nearly sleepless previous two nights were finally catching up with him and he felt really tired. And he also knew that a tired Zorro was a Zorro in danger, a Zorro with lessened attention, a Zorro who could make mistakes with dire consequences for himself, and a Zorro who might be careless.

So he decided to postpone his mission to later, siesta time for instance. But before he went to bed, he couldn't resist the pull that made him need to verify that his father was quietly resting in his bed, his own bed, and above all, alone. He silently led his mount to the broken window and peeked a glance through it, relieved at the silence reigning inside the bedroom. Thanks to the moonlight he could make out the lying form resting under the sheets. One form.

Sighing his relief, he had then headed to the stables. A few minutes later he was in his own bedroom, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

At siesta time, the church was generally empty, but not always. That's why as soon as Zorro entered it he prudently flattened himself against the wall, moving sideways, in some sort of crab-like walk, until he reached the side of a wooden confessional. He hid behind its front panel and very slightly leaned forward to discreetly peek at the inside of the church: if anyone was there, he'd better hide from them, in case this person wasn't exactly Zorro's friend. He knew he could always count on Padre Benitez's assistance, but even in this case, he'd rather not involve him in Zorro's problems if not absolutely necessary.

In a side chapel dedicated to San Francisco de Asís, a soldier was kneeling and praying. Then the man stood and crossed the transept. Zorro made the most of the two seconds it took him to stop and kneel before the altar on his way to quickly slip into the confessional in order not to be seen. On the priest side of it of course, where a full wooden door could conceal him entirely and not on the parishioner's side, with just a curtain that wouldn't hide the lower part of his body: there, his boots, his black trousers and his sword would be visible from the outside!

It was the right move to do, since the soldier then went to the poor box just beside it and dropped several coins in it, before going to another side chapel dedicated to San José, where the man would have a full view of the confessional if he decided to raise his head.

Better safe than sorry, Zorro thought: he'd stay in his current hiding place. Of course the soldier had left his sword at the door, but still... And anyway, Zorro really didn't feel alright with the idea of fighting within God's house.

Diego prayed a short apology to the Lord for entering His sacred house fully armed, but sometimes circumstances commanded, right?

He heard someone else enter the church and grunted inwardly: just his luck! Now he'd just have to wait until these people leave and go back to their daily duties. Let's just hope they won't stay here until the end of siesta time, or it will then be much harder for Zorro to sneak out unnoticed, with the usual activity resuming in the pueblo and everyone outside. He really, really should stop coming to the pueblo in broad daylight! Let's just hope that Tornado would very quickly show up at his master's call...

For lack of anything better to do, he repeated in his mind the three names that Ortega had rather reluctantly finally let out. He'd have to ask Señora Valdès whether these were familiar to her, whether she knew them...

Or perhaps his father did know them...? He'd have to ask him too.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

Wh– what?!

Oh no! There was someone in the confessional, on the other side of the grid! And this someone – a woman, according to the voice– was obviously mistaking him for the padre.

Really, could this afternoon go any worse?