2016 Anniversary Drabbles, Vignettes, and Glimpses

 

 

Drabble #1 (JoAnn)

 

“It’s hard.” Samantha tossed her pencil on the table in disgust with herself.

 

“Everything is difficult at first attempt, Samantha,” her teacher explained, patiently taking her pencil up and handing it back to her. “It’s 100 words. The tiniest of short stories.”

 

Frustrated, Eric remarked, “Drabbles sound funny, but they aren’t.”

 

Vincent patted his shoulder. “Don’t give up before you start.”

 

He sat among his students and unfolded a piece of paper. “I’ll read you one I wrote today.”

 

Inspired by him, the children redoubled their efforts. An hour later, they all exited his chamber, proudly clutching their completed drabbles.

 

Drabble #2 (JoAnn)

 

Catherine, her long grey hair captured in a loose braid, snuggled deep into her husband’s embrace. Silver glinted in his golden mane in the candlelight.

 

“What a lovely party,” she sighed.

 

He tightened his arms around her. “Twenty-five years. Something worth celebrating.”

 

“I’ll never forget…” Her fingers stroked the crystal at her throat.

 

“Nor I,” he replied, his hand seeking the suede pouch holding her white porcelain rose.

 

They turned in each other’s arms and gazed at each other, their Bond shimmering with the passion of a lifetime.

 

Then…as if it were their first time…they made love.

 

Drabble #3 (JoAnn)

 

The old man shuffled down the passageway.

 

“Even last year,” he told the boy who held his arm, “I could make the walk.” He paused for a moment. “Don’t think I can make it down this year.”

 

The youngster said, “Dad told me you’ve never missed Winterfest.”

 

Smiling sadly, the man nodded. “Never…until now. Did magic for years as Sebastien the Mysterious.”

 

They turned a corner. “Isn’t the Great Hall that way?” Sebastien pointed elsewhere with his cane.

 

“Winterfest’s in the Library this year.  We didn’t want you to break your streak.”

 

Sebastien’s grin was brighter than the torches.

 

Drabble #4 (JoAnn)

 

“Oh, no!” Catherine, dismayed, watched her mug of tea tip off the table and topple. The liquid seeped into the rug quickly, the brown stain spreading.

 

She was bent over, mopping up the mess with damp towels, when Vincent arrived. He hesitated for just a moment before coming inside, feeling it rude not to help.

 

Together, they cleared the mess.

 

“If I’d known this was all it would take to get you inside…” Catherine remarked, smiling.

 

The next night, as Vincent arrived, he saw Catherine standing with a pot of tea…which she poured onto the rug as he watched.

 

Drabble #5 (JoAnn)

 

Soft candlelight filtered from the otherwise darkened chamber.

 

The tiny flame flickered, pulsing with slight disturbances in air flow caused by the movement of the two bodies upon the bed, locked together in a joyful union so long wished for, so recently fulfilled.

 

The golden-maned man and the honey-haired woman were wrapped in each other’s arms, rocking together in rhythm, making love – quietly, fiercely, passionately.

 

From outside the chamber, only the candlelight gave a hint of what was happening within. But for the observant…it was enough.

 

Mary smiled as she placed an unlit lantern beside the door.

 

Drabble #6 (JoAnn)

 

“This cat is here again!” Father grumbled, tilting his chair to dislodge the feline curled on the worn cushion.

 

Mouse shrugged. “Tried to shoo him. Always comes back.”

 

The cat twined itself between Father’s legs, purring loudly.

 

Cullen entered and observed the scene. “When a cat decides he owns you…you might as well resign yourself to being owned.”

 

Father glowered at him. “It’s not up to the cat!"

 

“Try telling him that.” Cullen smirked, dropped off some borrowed maps, and left with Mouse.

 

Father sat.

 

The cat jumped into his lap.

 

Father sighed.

 

“So…what shall we call you?”

 

Drabble #7 (JoAnn)

 

At 2 a.m., the Hub was still. From Above came the muted sound of a subway train passing, but otherwise silence reigned.

 

Vincent haunted the passageways, restless, deep in thought.

 

A soft scrambling sound perked his ears. There it was again. There was another Tunnel denizen awake and on the move at this late hour.

 

Arthur appeared from around the bend in the tunnel, chittering as he caught sight of the big human. His long nose twitched: friend, his sniff told him.

 

Vincent bent, scooping up the raccoon. “You’re welcome company,” he murmured, as Arthur settled into his arms.

 

Friend.

 

Drabble #8 (JoAnn)

 

The sun rose on April 12. Yet another anniversary.

 

Catherine stretched and yawned. There was much to do today. She had a brief to finish. And she had promised Joe she would take a deposition in the Bradenton case.  She needed to call Nancy about her upcoming visit. And the dry cleaning wouldn’t pick itself up.

 

Life was more complicated now. But she wouldn’t change what she had for anything.  She was damned lucky, and she hoped never to forget that.

 

Rolling over, she kissed the sleepy man who was reaching to embrace her.

 

“Happy anniversary, Vincent!”

 

“Happy anniversary, Catherine…”

 

Drabble #9 (JoAnn)

 

“Hush now, children.” Mary, harried, tried to get the youngsters to settle down to sleep.

 

It was a lost cause. As soon as she was out of sight, the conversation about Halloween began again.

 

“Sebastien will be there!”

 

“Says who?”

 

“Catherine. And since it’s her party…she’d know!”

 

“Maria, the Helper who runs that bakery, is bringing cupcakes!”

 

A tall figure loomed in the doorway.

 

The voices stilled.

 

“Children, tomorrow won’t come if you don’t fall asleep,” Vincent said, hiding a smile.

 

“ ’K, Vincent.”

 

They quieted down, obeying immediately.

 

 “How do you do that?” Mary asked.

 

He shrugged. “Animal magnetism?”

 

Drabble #10 (JoAnn)

 

Joe shoved the apartment door closed with a weary shoulder.

 

Home again. Alone.  Another tough week.

 

He dumped his briefcase on the nearest chair and made for the refrigerator, grabbing a beer. Maybe he’d call for a pizza later. Right now he just wanted to get out of his suit.

 

As he showered, he tried in vain to get her image out of his head. That blue dress looked nice on her today…hugged her curves. And that honey-gold hair…

 

Damn, but he had it bad for her.

 

Even as he fell asleep, his mind revolved around her….

 

Catherine…

 

Drabble #11 (JoAnn)

 

The fog drifted through the trees, giving the park an eerie look – the setting for a scary movie, perhaps.

 

Within the park, a creature who might star in such a movie moved stealthily. 

 

An unwary bicyclist approached.

 

A stick slid between the spokes.

 

The bike careened, the rider tumbling off.

 

The creature bent over the stunned, bleeding biker, fingers searching for anything to steal.

 

Out of the mist, a dark shadow appeared - wrapped in a cowled cape. He roared fiercely, and the robber scrambled away.

 

The shadow melted back into the mist.

 

The bicyclist had an unbelievable tale to tell....

 

Drabble #12 (JoAnn)

 

“Mouse knows!” the tousled-haired boy crowed.

 

Jamie’s interest piqued. “Tell me!”

 

“Secret,” he replied in an exaggerated whisper.

 

“Humph.” Jamie stalked away.

 

Mouse called after her, “Can’t tell. Could show.”

 

With a triumphant smile, his companion turned and nodded. “OK. Show me, then.”

 

He grabbed her hand and took off at a fast pace, dragging her along. Soon they came to a little-used storage chamber. It smelled of neglect and damp.

 

“Here.”

 

But there was nothing inside.

 

“Can you keep a secret?” he asked.

 

Exasperated, she said, “Yes.”

 

Smiling slyly, he replied, “Me, too!” as he scampered away.

 

Drabble #13 (JoAnn)

 

“Marvelous. Simply marvelous!” Father raved over the first edition of Tennyson.

 

“Please, keep it,” Vincent urged.

 

“But…wasn’t this a gift from Catherine?” Father was shocked that his son would part with any such thing.

 

Vincent inclined his head. “She will understand.”

 

“I don’t know if I do,” Father admitted.

 

“It served its purpose.”

 

An enigmatic reply. Father’s eyebrows rose.

 

“It was given to me as a reminder…of something I no longer need to be reminded of.” Vincent turned and left the chamber.

 

That night…

 

“My knight in shining armor…” Catherine murmured as he took her for his own.

 

Drabble #14 (JoAnn)

 

Where are they?

 

Playing hide-and-seek in the Tunnels was a new experience for Catherine. There were hundreds of hiding places just within the Hub, and she was by no means familiar with most of the hidey-holes. Being “it” meant she had to eventually find someone, though, or ruin everyone else’s good time.

 

Suddenly, a hand snaked out of a hidden chamber and yanked her within. Her heart leapt in surprise. Then a rumbling chuckle filled her ears.

 

Vincent.

 

“You would have searched for hours. Now I am ‘it.’”

 

She smiled up at him. “You certainly are,” she whispered.

 

Drabble #15 (JoAnn)

 

Laura had just finished teaching her sign class to the youngsters Below when Father approached. In halting sign, he made his request. “Teach me?”

 

He’d had to ask Vincent to give him even those words. He was so ashamed of himself. For all the years of Laura’s residency Below, he had never learned sign properly…or hardly at all. Oh, he knew a few words, could get a rough idea of what she was saying to him…but he’d relied on others to “translate.”  The time had come to rectify his negligence.

 

Laura’s smile was understanding…and wide. “Of course!”

 

Drabble #16 (JoAnn)

 

“That’s the last of it?”

 

Catherine nodded.

 

The movers shrugged and left, wondering why there was still furniture in the apartment.

 

Catherine gazed around one last time. She was leaving the small couches, the glass-topped dining table, the designer touches…the things that didn’t “fit her” anymore. The new owners were thrilled to inherit them.

 

Tonight she would sleep in her new home – an old brownstone with Tunnel access, purchased from the estate of a long-time Helper. She had plans…to fill it with sturdy, comfortable furnishings, warm wood, cats…and...Vincent.

 

Besides Vincent?

 

Everything else was extraneous.

 

Proposal (JoAnn)

 

She brushed the dust and cobwebs from her hair, laughing over her tumble into the heavy curtains they’d found in the storage chamber, looking for something to cover his chamber entrance.

 

Vincent reached over to rub a smudge from her nose.

 

She captured his hand and kissed his fingers.

 

Their gazes locked, and humor melted into passion so quickly, it took them both by surprise.

 

The kiss he offered was accepted hungrily. This time, when she tumbled, it was willingly, with Vincent by her side.

 

Between one kiss and the next, the words tumbled from his lips: Marry me?

 

Yes!

 

Drabble (ChicagoTunnelKid)

 

The rockslide made travel through a major tunnel hazardous. A work crew had been assigned; Vincent was on it. Not the anniversary celebration Catherine had in mind.

 

She watched from far back in the tunnel. A human bucket chain moved rocks out of the area, into a cart, the cart pushed to the Abyss, and the rocks pitched over.

 

Except for the big ones.

 

Vincent was not part of the chain. He lifted the rocks no one else could. It was hard, hot, heavy work, and Vincent had removed his layers of shirts to keep cool, as had many of the other men.

 

Catherine watched the play of muscle in his arms and back, rippling under the tension of holding the weight of the stones. Sweat caused little rivers of hair to form on his back and down his arms. She imagined taking a washcloth to his back, sluicing his back in soapy suds, watching them move down to his waistband. Sliding the washcloth down to chase the suds, then her hand slipping off the cloth and onto his back, caressing the soft, wet hair.

 

Just that moment, Vincent turned in her direction and looked down the tunnel. Her eyes imagined his locked onto hers.  Mine. Was it her thought or his? Did it matter?

 

Mine.

 

In Repose  (ChicagoTunnelKid)

 

He slept; the face, so dear to her, in repose. She took her fill, gazing at his brow, as it swept up toward his hair; his forehead, too often wrinkled with worry; the soft wispy stubble that covered his cheeks and chin that called out to be stroked; his high cheekbones that lent him an air of regal warrior; his lips, the top cleft drawing the eye to the two-sided lip, bespeaking his two-sided psyche, man and beast.

 

She lowered her mouth to his, bestowing a soft kiss to his lips. She pulled back to see eyes, shining with love.

 

Mirror, Mirror on the Pool (ChicagoTunnelKid)

 

He knelt by the Mirror Pool, gazing into the water. He wanted to see what she saw – the beauty she so often spoke about when gazing at him. He stared some minutes, seeing nothing but his oddly shaped face. He sighed, and sat back on his heels. With one last glance, he was about to stand up and leave, when the smiling face he so loved reflected back next to his.  As he looked at her face lit with love, love shone from his face, too, and that’s when he saw what she said:

 

“Vincent, you are so beautiful.”

 

The Proposal  (ChicagoTunnelKid)

 

What words could he use that weren’t trite or over-used? Vincent paced within his chamber. He was due Above on Catherine’s balcony for their anniversary celebration. He wanted tonight to be unforgettable.

 

A new shirt, pants, and a vest made from a satin-like material of blue that Mary said complimented his eyes. He took extra care taming his hair. All was ready but for the words. What to say.

 

He stood hesitantly on the balcony when she opened the doors, stealing his breath. All thought left his head; only feeling remained. His mouth opened; the words came.

 

“Will you marry me?”

 

Lady in Red

By Cindy Rae

 

Two rings.  Three…  Catherine eyed her hastily scribbled drawing.  She’d never been an artist, but she thought she'd come close, and definitely gotten the particulars.

 

Overlong sleeves, like a bride's dress.  A straight-across, draping neckline.  Bare shoulders.  Heavy velvet.  A wintertime dress.  Long.  Tuck the waist and...

 

"Hello?" An older woman answered.

 

"Louise?  It's Catherine Chandler.  Charles' daughter … Yes…  You did my mother's wedding dress?"  Catherine listened to the seamstress' reply as she gazed at her secret drawing, the inspiration for it taken from Vincent's chamber.  And Kristopher.

 

"Louise, listen... I need something very special made…  Something in red…"

 

 

I haven't done this in awhile. Pulled this together in about 15 minutes, hope you enjoy  :)

 

China Wedding

By Cindy Rae and Judi

 

“The Phoenix Crown demands your hair up, Lin!” Grandfather Wong declared.

 

“I like my hair down.” Lin accepted the traditional candles from her grandfather. In the bridal chamber, they would dismiss evil spirits.

 

“And the bridal cups?’

 

“With red string to tie them.” Lin smiled at Catherine.

 

“I miss your mother…” Wong fretted. He studied Catherine. “Please ask, has the priest arrived?”

 

“Of course.” Catherine rose and left.

 

Lin sighed. “Why? You know Master’s here.”

 

Wong frowned. “In China, it’s bad luck to find two brides together.”

 

“But Catherine isn’t a …”

 

“Vincent’s eyes tell me all. He will ask.”

 

China Wedding (Vignette)

By Cindy Rae

 

"You will be a beautiful bride, Lin." Grandfather Wong said, beholding the bride-to-be. A pair of red dragon and phoenix candles were riding low in his pocket, a traditional gift for the bridal couple. The candles would be lit in the bridal chamber, to frighten away evil spirits, banish bad luck, and coincidentally, provide a romantic atmosphere for the bridal couple.

 

"Isn't she though?" Catherine agreed, settling Lin's gleaming, dark hair loosely around her shoulders. Lin's jasmine perfume wafted around the room.

 

Tears touched the old man's eyes, as he beheld the jewel of his world, about to become Henry Pei's wife. She looked regal, and serene. Confident, and ... and so in love, it was a thing that lit her dark eyes from within.

 

Catherine brought Lin the earrings she had chosen for the wedding, simple pearls for luck, and a pair of gorgeously embroidered wedding shoes, soft, since the bride was forbid to remove them even during the tea ceremony. Wong had insisted that as many touches of tradition as could be mustered be observed, and Lin was amenable. Lin sat as Catherie helped her put on her special shoes, ones embroidered with the symbols for happiness, fertility, and luck.

 

"I am sorry your mother is not with us, Lin. Sorry your wedding does not reflect more of our past, our culture," Mr. Wong fretted. The bride should be fetched in a wedding sedan. The groom should have to overcome a series of pre-arranged 'challenges' and 'questions,' all designed to indicate his devotion. Lin's hair should be up, not down, a phoenix crown upon her head, or at least a traditional wedding veil.

 

All were ways of courting good luck, while banishing the bad.

 

Perhaps considering all the challenges they have already faced, the Gods will be appeased, Wong hoped, knowing the Western woman in the room had had a good bit to do with helping Lin and Henry reach this day.

 

Lin rose and gave Catherine a kiss on the cheek. "I don't like to wear my hair in a bun, Grandfather. So Catherine's hair dressing ritual has been perfect." Lin admired her lovely reflection in a long mirror.

 

"And now we must give our Lady of Honor a while to change. Bright yellow and red are colors for luck and long life. I hope you find the dress in the next room to your liking," Wong intoned.  "And when you are done, might you check to see if the priest has arrived?"

 

Master Wong indicated the way with his hand, and Catherine inclined her head, the universal gesture of respect. "Of course, and I'm sure that the dress will be lovely," Catherine said, deciding to arrange her hair in a more traditional Oriental style to please her host.

 

Master Wong watched her go, kind regard - and a bit of wariness - in his almond eyes.

 

"You already know the priest is here.  And there is plenty of time for Catherine to change," Lin remarked, smoothing the silk belt that cinched her tiny waist. "You needn't have had her leave so soon."

 

Wong smiled at his granddaughter's ignorance.

 

"It is for your sake I sent her away, granddaughter," Wong advised softly, so that Catherine couldn't hear from the next room. "You have been in America too long. In China, it is considered ill luck for two brides to be in the same room, as one steals good fortune from the other." He looked toward the doorway Catherine had just departed through. "I will have to give Father a red packet to counter the bad luck, and ask for one, in return."

 

"But Catherine isn't a ..."

 

Grandfather Wong shook his head and held up a quieting hand.

 

Youth is wasted on the young, he smiled, his old eyes seeing better, and with far more wisdom.

 

"When Vincent watches her, his heart is speaking, though his lips are silent." He took out the red candles and set them carefully in the box of things Lin would take to her bridal chamber:  a pair of wine goblets. A long red string to tie them with.

 

"If the way his blue eyes follow her is any indication, she soon will be," Wong predicted, with a knowing smile.

 

Shakespeare Knew Everything

By Cindy Rae

 

She was alone, and hurting.  Hurting for herself.  Hurting for him.  Her flawed prince had left her heartsore, and things between the two of them were… battered.

 

Vincent tore through his possessions, knowing what he needed… almost.

 

No… no…. no… then, there it was.  A thin little thing, the sturdy slipcase age worn, but solid.

 

The book opened naturally to the sonnet he knew by heart.  He pressed a rose between the pages.

 

She needed it, so she’d know how he felt.  He needed it, so he’d have a way to say it.

He’d leave it on her balcony, inscribed.

 

BLAME (Allison)

Father's chamber exploded with voices clamoring at once to be heard.

 

"Vincent should be punished," Rachel called out, louder than the rest. "Paul and the others almost died because of him. Ellie did die."

 

"What would you have us do?" Father asked, dreading the answer.

 

"The silence," Rachel stated.

 

Father bowed his head and nodded in agreement.

 

"The silence, it is then."

 

I Can’t

By Allison

 

"What can I say to you?'

 

The tenderness of her embrace was a feeling he'd never felt before, never even dreamed of. He held her close, and then suddenly heard voices from above. Catherine looked toward the blue light and then realized Vincent wasn't beside her. He was gone.

 

"Vincent...?"

 

Sadly, she raised the hood of her coat and went to the bottom of the ladder. As she placed her foot on the bottom rung, she froze.

 

"I can't do this. I can't! My face...what would they think? What would they say?"

 

She turned back toward the opening from whence she came. She looked into the tunnel, but saw no sign of Vincent. She wondered if she would be able to find her way back to that place of safety she had so recently left. She hesitantly started walking back in the direction she and Vincent had travelled.

 

"Vincent?" She whispered again, hoping he was within the sound of her voice.

 

"I'm here." He came out of the shadows.

 

"I can't face them,” she confessed. “Let them think I'm dead. It's better that way."

 

"Catherine, you survived. And what you endured will make you stronger...and better."

 

"I can't."

 

She turned and ran back the way Vincent had led her. He easily caught up with her and took hold of her arm.

 

"You have the strength, Catherine. You do. I know you."

 

"No. I don't."

 

"Yes, you do. Believe in yourself." His low baritone sounded so unshakably certain.

 

"You sound…so sure," she allowed.

 

"I know you, Catherine. You have the spirit to overcome this."

 

She looked up at him, profoundly touched by his tenderness. He led her back to the opening and walked her to the ladder.

 

"This is where you go out."

 

Mutely, she nodded her head and slowly climbed up the ladder...disappearing...back into her life.

 

Glimpse # 1 (Barbara Handshy Anderson)

 

Vincent reclined on the bed as he watched the two most precious treasures of his heart. After two years, he could still hardly believe that she was his wife and this beautiful child was his son, no, their son. He wondered if there would ever come a day when he didn’t look upon this sight and marvel at the miraculous gifts that life had given him.

 

“Catherine,” he said softly.

 

“Hmmmm?” Catherine replied only halfway paying attention to him as she rocked back and forth with Jacob in her arms.

 

“Do you know what day is coming up?”

 

She smiled wistfully. “I do,” she whispered, carrying a slumbering Jacob to his crib and then joining Vincent on the bed. Snuggling into his waiting arms she asked, “What are we going to do about it?” she asked.

 

He tightened his embrace of his beautiful wife and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ve been thinking.”

 

She smiled mischievously and said, “Mmm, a dangerous pastime.”

 

He chuckled, raised his eyebrows, and said, “I know… but someone’s got to do it.”

 

They both began to laugh and she silenced his laughter with a kiss.

 

“Mmmmm, Catherine.” His voice had become huskier than usual. He grabbed both of her shoulders and pushed her a little bit away from him and shook his head as if to clear away cobwebs.

 

She looked puzzled. “What is it?” she asked.

 

He smiled and said, “You have a terrible affect on me, Catherine. I can’t think straight when you are this close to me, and yet I can hardly bear it when you’re not.”

 

She tried to look serious, “Mmm, yes, I see. That is a problem. There is only one solution.”

 

“And what is that, pray tell?”

 

He could see the twinkle in her eyes as she said, “I’ll just have to stay here … in your arms … for the rest of our lives.”

 

He couldn’t help laughing. “Yes, I suppose that would be one solution. But not very practical.”

 

She nodded reluctantly and sighed in agreement. “Regrettably.”

 

“Catherine, please, be serious for just a few minutes. I want to talk to you about our anniversary,” he pleaded.

 

“Fine …” she said, kissing him again. “But under protest.”       

 

“Duly noted,” he teased, trying to catch his breath.

 

She grudgingly moved from the bed to the rocking chair Cullen had refurbished for her and gave him her full attention.

 

Sitting on the edge of the bed and facing her he said, “It’s been five years, Catherine. Five years since that terrible … wonderful night.”

 

“Yes … I know. Five amazing years,” she whispered reverently.

 

Glimpse #2 (Barbara Handshy Anderson)

 

Catherine became increasingly aware of how much Mouse loved to play with Jacob and how much Jacob loved Mouse. When Mouse was with him, Jacob talked nonstop and Mouse actually talked back. Mouse seemed to be the only one who could understand him and Jacob seemed keenly aware of that.

 

Watching one such exchange, Catherine asked, “Mouse, how can you understand what Jacob is saying when nobody else can?”

 

Mouse looked at her in surprise. “Nobody else can? Mouse didn’t know. Not even Catherine?”

 

Catherine smiled and shook her head. “No, Mouse, not really. Sometimes I think I understand what he needs by the sound of his cry or the look in his eyes. But I’m just guessing.”

 

Mouse shook his head. “No, Catherine. Not guessing. Catherine knows.” He pointed to his head and said, “Not here.” Then he pointed to his heart and said, “Here.”

 

He could tell she still didn’t understand what he was trying to explain. Letting out an exasperated sigh he attempted to elucidate. “When Mouse was small,” he began, “Vincent found Mouse. Mouse couldn’t talk. Nobody understands Mouse. Nobody listens. Vincent listens. Vincent understands.” He put his hand over his heart again. “Vincent listens here.”

 

Catherine was beginning to understand. She nodded in amazed agreement. “Yes, Mouse, you’re right. That is where Vincent listens.”

 

Mouse continued, “Vincent listens to Mouse. Vincent understands Mouse. Vincent teaches Mouse to listen. Vincent teaches Mouse to talk. Now Mouse teaches Jacob.”

 

Catherine nodded. She was astounded and touched by the revelation. “You know, Mouse, sometimes I think that you are the smartest person I know.”

 

Mouse was a little embarrassed by the compliment. He smiled and said, “Not smart. Just Mouse.”

 

Catherine laughed and nodded. “Well, Mouse, I think ‘just Mouse’ is just fine. Better than fine.”

 

And they both laughed.

 

Wake Up (Katie A)

 

Vincent smiled. The sight before him was so precious to him. Catherine, sprawled on his, no, THEIR bed, fast asleep.

 

He sighed. Alas, she had to wake up.  Today was a work day. He walked into the chamber, the thermos of coffee ready to pour into the mug on the bedside table.

 

He couldn't help himself, after he poured the coffee, he leaned over and nibbled on her ear.  She sighed, stretched, but didn't wake. He continued his nuzzling and nibbling, and soon, she was awake, all right, but letting her out of the bed was going to be a new challenge.

 

A Perfect Ending (Katie A)

 

The children's concert had been superb, all of the musicians doing very well indeed. The reception after was well supplied with William's best cookies and pastry treats, and the fellowship was absolutely wonderful. Catherine had obviously enjoyed herself immensely, and that made Vincent immensely happy. To see her so at home, and enjoying her time in his world so much just filled his heart with joy and love.

 

At last it was time to walk Catherine back to her threshold. Neither of them wanted the evening to end, chatting and laughing together as they had been all evening with their friends and family.

 

At last, they reached the opening in the bricks.

 

"Oh, Vincent, this evening has been just wonderful! Thank you for asking me to come!"

 

"Catherine", he said in that special way of his that made her knees weak, "Any time you are with us is special. I am glad you enjoyed yourself."

 

His shy smile didn't fool her, she knew he was feeling a lot of the same things she was, she could have guessed even without the bond.

 

She smiled up at him, and reached up to hug him close. "Any time I spend with YOU is special, Vincent. I love you."

 

She felt a trembling in his body, and was also sure she felt him kiss the top of her head before tucking her head under his chin as usual. Very softly, she heard him say "As I love you, my Catherine. Always."

 

She hugged him tighter and tears gathered in the corners of her closed eyes at that much desired declaration.

 

She pulled back enough to see his face, saw the love and the wonder in his eyes, and without hesitation, they moved into a perfect, loving, and not too chaste kiss.

 

As the kiss ended, Vincent pulled her close again, kissed her head again, and tucked her head under his chin, resting there with her in the glow of their love.

 

Saying good night would never quite be the same again.

 

A Very Silly Micro-Drabble for

The April 12th Anniversary BBTV Challenge

Olivia K. Goode

 

One night that first frozen winter Below...

 

“So, tell me, John,” Jacob asked, “do you have any brothers or sisters?”

 

“A half-brother. I do not," Pater eyed him narrowly, “speak of... him.”

 

(Author's Note: Please forgive me - watching To Reign in Hell in Sunday Chat

this week, it suddenly occurred to me who Gru from Despicable Me reminded me of!)

 

 

 

Want (Janet Rivenbark)

 

“What is it you want?” she asked.

 

“I want you,” he said without hesitation.

 

She looked surprised at his bluntness.

 

“I want to be with you; have you at my side,” he clarified. “I want it so bad it hurts, but I want more.”

 

“Like what?” Her voice was soft, not her usual confident tone.

 

Her feelings hit him, it felt like a blow to the chest. His heart sped up, slamming against his ribs.

 

“I want to spend every night sleeping beside you. I want you with me whenever you can be. I don’t care what we do, as long as you are close.”

 

She stared back at him and blinked. Her eyes seemed bigger than usual. “Oh.”

 

He couldn’t believe that was all she had to say. She was a lawyer; she usually had plenty to say.

 

This wasn’t the first time he’d acknowledged the depth of his feelings for her, but it was the first time he’d put it so bluntly; even he was a little shocked. She’d always been clear about her desires, opening herself to rejection. But who could reject her? Certainly not him. Not anymore.

 

Doubt washed over Vincent, slowing his pounding heart. Had he made a mistake?

 

“Did you want something different?” he asked.

 

“No! No.” Her voice was solid, but the skin between her eyes creased as she added, “It’s not that. I want all those things too. You know I do; I’ve said it before. It’s just that I’ve disappointed you before and I… well, I didn’t think you’d be willing to take that chance again.”

 

“I want to be close to you. I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I want everything that we can have. We may not know just what that is yet, but I want to find out.”

 

It was Catherine’s turn to be shocked. He’d just used the word want, in reference to himself more in the last few minutes than he had the entire time since she’d met him.

 

Someone to Watch Over Me (Rachel Elaine)

 

Catherine shuffled through her old records and smiled as she finally found the right one.  She removed it from the sleeve and placed it on the record player.  After a few moments of light scratching noises, the music began to fill the room.

 

There's a saying old, says that love is blind

Still we're often told, "seek and ye shall find"

So I'm going to seek a certain lad I've had in mind

 

Looking everywhere, haven't found him yet

He's the big affair I cannot forget

Only man I ever think of with regret

 

I'd like to add his initial to my monogram

Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb?

 

There's a somebody I'm longin' to see

I hope that he, turns out to be

Someone who'll watch over me

 

 

She heard a rustling sound from the balcony and turned to see Vincent standing just outside the back doors.  She opened the doors and he took her into his arms. 

“Someone to watch over me,” she said softly. 

 

“A beautiful song,” Vincent observed. 

 

Catherine smiled and laid her head against his chest.  “I took a deposition from an elderly woman today,” she said.  “This was the song she and her husband danced to at their wedding.  They were married for 60 years.”

 

Vincent released her and they leaned against the balcony.  “What happened after that?”  he asked.

 

“Her husband passed away a few months ago. But you should have heard her Vincent, she was…radiant, glowing, when she talked about him. There was no fear, there was no sadness…just love. Sixty years of love.”

 

“She seems to have made quite an impression on you,” Vincent observed with a slight smile.

 

Catherine nodded and lifted her eyes to his. “Vincent…” she began with some hesitation. “Do you think, in 60 years, we…” she trailed off, and glanced away.

 

Vincent took her into his arms again. “No,” he finally said softly.  “Longer. For all that I am.  For all that you are. For all that there is.”  He paused for a moment.  “Does that answer your question?”

 

She lifted her head and couldn’t help but smile through the slight hint of tears.  “Yes,” she whispered as her heart lifted to a new level of happiness. He wasn’t leaving. He wasn’t planning a future without her.  “Yes,” she repeated more firmly with a light giggle. “It does.”

 

Although he may not be the man some

Girls think of as handsome

To my heart he carries the key

 

Won't you tell him please to put on some speed

Follow my lead, oh, how I need

Someone to watch over me

 

Won't you tell him please to put on some speed

Follow my lead, oh, how I need

Someone to watch over me

 

Beautiful Angel (Bonnie Chapman)

 

Vincent sat in the rocking chair in the Alcove of their bed chamber holding their newborn daughter.  He couldn’t stop staring at the kitten face that one day would mirror his own.  He looked up as Catherine stirred.  The delivery of their first born had exhausted her and he hoped she wouldn’t wake until it was time for a feeding.  Sleep wouldn’t come to him tonight.

 

She was glad their child would look like him.  He wasn’t so certain.

 

She wanted him to understand why she thought he was beautiful.  He didn’t think it was possible.

 

His large furred hand with lethal claws gently picked up the tiny furred one with a hint of claws.  He lightly caressed what one day would be as deadly as his own.  Tears streaked his face as he watched her sleep in his protective embrace.  There were only two words he could think to describe her.

 

She was his beautiful Angel.