Sinkhole

A Spontaneous BBTV Round Robin

JoAnn, ChicagoTunnelKid, Judith, Katie, Barbara, and Alyssa

The work crew was exhausted. The pipe break finally was fixed, and the mopping up of the affected tunnels was nearing completion. The last to leave, as usual, Vincent trekked homeward in the wee hours of the morning, fatigue lending him a lassitude he rarely felt. He was muddy, his hair sodden and filthy, and all he could focus on was stripping out of his grimy clothes and sinking into warm water to scrub clean.

Catherine, working late on files in her apartment, heard on the news about the sinkhole. It took a second viewing to get in her mind just exactly where it was. When it finally clicked, she grabbed her coat, and ran down to the basement and through the tunnels to see how she could help, what might be needed. She met an exhausted, and very dirty, Vincent, obviously on his way back.

"Oh, Vincent! What can I do? I want to help!"

Groggily, he responded, "Perhaps Father could use your help treating minor injuries. I must..." He sighed, trying to martial his thoughts. He was so tired. Picking up the thread of his thought, he continued, "I need to clean up."

Catherine took in his appearance and the drawn, haggard look on his face. "Go," she urged him. "I'll bring you something to eat."

Vincent looked back at her, a faint smile briefly banishing the grim lines from around his mouth.  "Please, Catherine, ask William for what you might need. I would rather know you are in safe hands."

Catherine raised a denying shoulder. "I have moved on from burning toast, you know. William has been a good teacher. I am sure I can find what I might need."

"Very well. Thank you."

Vincent staggered off to the Bathing Chamber, too tired to do more than place one heavy foot before the other as he moved slowly onwards.

As he hit the entrance, he began stripping off sodden clothing, anxious to be in the warm soothing water as soon as possible. When he entered it, he sank down, then sat on a rock that jutted out below the water, so that he could lean his head back on the edge and relax. Within seconds, he slept.

*****

Catherine cautiously peered into the chamber, mindful of keeping Vincent's privacy. She carried a small basket William had packed for Vincent, along with a change of clothes she’d gathered from his chamber. As she went inside, she saw Vincent, asleep.

She looked her fill as he slept. His shoulders were above water, and they glistened in the candlelight; his hair was dripping rivulets. It was obvious he had dunked himself before lying back against the edge.

She had never seen him with his hair wet. It was almost slicked back, showing a very different shape to his head than she normally saw. A few tendrils lapped in the water, riding the little waves rippling from his body as he moved ever so slightly.

Catherine sighed. She was taking advantage. She set the clothes to one side and decided she should gently wake him up and put the basket of food where he could reach it.

"Vincent! Vincent, wake up! You'll have a crook in your neck if you stay that way too long."

Gradually, his eyes opened.

"William packed some food for you." She set it down where he could reach without getting too close and invading his privacy. "Is there anything else you need before I go see Father?"

Still half-asleep, Vincent murmured, "I should...should wash my hair. If I don't…."

Catherine took in his disheveled mane of hair. "It'll be a tangled mess if you let it dry like that," she finished for him. She gazed around the chamber, her eyes finally settling on an array of shampoos and soaps. "Why don't you let me help you?" she offered, trying desperately to dampen her excitement at the prospect. It was a bold offer, but....

"All right," he mumbled, his eyelids drooping. He was struggling to stay awake. It was the only reason she could think of for him agreeing so readily to her proposal.

Catherine walked over to the shampoo, selected one, and brought it back. After pouring a small amount into her hand, she rubbed her hands together, held them up a moment, and made the plunge. She first rubbed the shampoo off her hands and onto his hair. Then the fun began! She slowly worked her fingertips into his hair, massaging his scalp slowly. She worked slowly mostly for herself, but she was sure it would feel better for Vincent, too. She wanted to prolong this personal contact time as long as she could.

On and on, she massaged, then ran her fingers out through the strands. Finally, she reached for a cup nearby, filled it with water, and began the rinsing process. Cup after cup, suds slithered down his hair, then his shoulders and upper chest, until meeting the water lapping against his pectoral muscles. She watched, fascinated by what she saw.

She squeezed his hair in a mostly vain effort at getting as much water out as possible. She debated taking a towel and fixing it around his head, sarong-style, as she did for hers, but figured his manly sensibilities might be offended. She settled for blotting as best she could with the towel.

All through the process, Vincent slept.

She watched his face, as she sat off to the side, pleased with her work, and with the opportunity. He looked ... content, she thought. Was that due to her efforts, or to the exhaustion? She claimed it as her efforts.

She was lost in lovely thoughts of Vincent in the bath and failed to notice one eye open on the subject at hand.

"Seen enough?" he lazily asked.

Catherine jumped nearly enough to launch her into the pool. Blushing, she was at a loss for words, a situation she knew Vincent was enjoying.

"I think your hair is clean now, if you want to get out. Clean clothes are right over by the bench." She nervously scrambled up as she spoke. "I'll wait for you in your chamber?"

"You would leave me so unsatisfied?" he asked.

Catherine nearly choked on her surprise. What on earth did he mean?

"Because, Catherine...you haven't administered the conditioner yet."

Her choke fully realized then, and she coughed it away as she understood he was asking her for...more.

"Of course!" she managed to say, trying to keep her tone light. "What was I thinking?"

One long, claw-tipped finger lifted to point in the direction of the right bottle, and Catherine scooped it up with trembling hands. When she turned back to him, she noted Vincent's half-smile. It made her smile in return, instantly relaxing her.

He settled back as she slicked the conditioner into his hair, eating half of the sandwich William had made for him in a few quick bites.

"So, were you awake while I washed your hair? I thought you were sleeping." She worked the conditioner slowly through the strands.

"Partly. Though toward the end, I awoke, mostly because what you were doing to make me feel so relaxed…stopped."

"I’m glad it helped you relax," she said, as she thought, Relaxation is not exactly what it did to me! She kept working her fingers through his hair. There must be a way to turn this to my advantage, knowing that he is enjoying my discomfiture a little too much.

She smiled. "You know, I used to love it when my mother washed my hair. It felt so good, and I felt so loved while she was doing it."

She picked up the cup once more to begin the rinsing process while she continued her train of thought. "It's been a long time since someone washed my hair." She sighed dramatically, and a bit wistfully.

"Shall I call Mary for you?" Vincent asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Uh, no, thanks!" she said, smirking slightly. She added, "The poor woman has been asleep for hours. In fact, except for the sentries, we may be the only two people awake in the entire Hub."

"Imagine that..." Vincent murmured.

If he wanted to play this game, he'd better watch out! That is, if I can keep my wits about me. This setting is a LOT different than a courtroom!

Vincent sighed and stretched his arms over his head, displaying a lot more heavily muscled chest, and upsetting Catherine's equilibrium even more.

"I do hope you enjoyed yourself half as much as I have, Catherine," Vincent said.

"Not to worry," Catherine replied archly. "The scenery has been very much worth my time."

Vincent ducked his head to try and hide a self-satisfied grin from her. "Hmm. Glad you enjoyed it. I must say, there hasn't been much for me to look at except the inside of my eyelids, or the chamber ceiling."

His hand captured hers just as she dipped the cup into the water again. He took it from her hand...and tugged.

Catherine's balance was upset by his sudden move, and although she desperately tried to recover it, she ended up falling into the water with a loud splash.

Sputtering, her head cleared the surface of the water, hair curtaining her face. She huffed a strand of hair out of her eyes to see his laughter at her condition. Oh, he would pay! she thought.

"And just what are you laughing at?" she enquired ever so sweetly.

"I believe the expression is: you look like a drowned rat!" At this, he guffawed before clasping her under her arms and lifting her up to the ledge.

There she sat, dripping on all surfaces. He now stood on a small lower ridge, exposing his chest down to the level of his belly button.

An innie. She had wondered about that for a while.

"Well, now that I'm all wet, I might as well get out of these clothes, and since you are here, you can wash my hair!" She announced this with all the bravado a drowned rat could muster. Let's see what he does now! she thought, as she began unbuttoning her sodden blouse.

Vincent's smile quickly faded. "Catherine, stop ... I don't think--"

"Don't even say it, Vincent," Catherine interrupted his line of thought. "You're the one who suggested I get my hair washed. And it's your fault I'm all wet. Now you owe me a wash, condition, and rinse ... and you're going to pay up."

Vincent stood speechless in the water, mesmerized by the shape of her, wet and glistening in the candlelight. And terrified by what might happen next if she ....

"Don't worry, Vincent,” she said, reading his mind. “I won't take it all off, and I promise, I won't take advantage ... that is, unless you want me to." She smiled mischievously. "You won't see any more of me than you would if I were wearing a bathing suit."

After removing most of her clothes, she sat at the edge of the pool in her lacy bra and matching panties, thankful that she had taken the time that morning to choose the pretty ones.

"Are you satisfied?" she asked.

Vincent could only nod.

"I'm getting in now ... Is that all right with you?" She waited patiently for his reply.

He nodded again, not knowing what else to do.

She jumped in and dunked herself completely in the water, coming up laughing. "I'm ready for my wash now, Vincent," she said, looking at him innocently … with a gleam in her eye …

Vincent didn't move … not toward her … nor did he move away.

Catherine at least found that encouraging. She reached for the shampoo bottle. "Hold out your hand, Vincent," she whispered, not wanting to frighten him.

He obediently held out his left hand with the palm up.

She filled his cupped hand, and said, "That should be enough. I don't think I require as much as you do."

Still he didn't speak.

She smiled at him reassuringly and turned her back to him.

He could feel her determination to see this through. More importantly, he could feel her complete trust in him.

Vincent stood there, soap in hand, staring at her back. She has a beautiful little mole just there, he noted. Of course it is, he silently told himself, everything about her is beautiful.

Slowly, he reached for her, and began tentatively working the shampoo through her hair. With each stroke, he could feel himself relaxing.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back into the glorious scalp massage he was giving her, and let out a sigh.

"Are you all right, Catherine? Am I hurting you?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, Vincent, it's wonderful," she crooned. "More wonderful than I even remembered." Perhaps because it's you, she thought, but she didn't dare say it.

Vincent took his time and thoroughly rinsed the shampoo from her hair before applying the conditioner. For having been so reluctant in the beginning, he was certainly not eager for the experience to end.

As he rinsed out the conditioner, he ran his fingers through her hair to be sure he had gotten it all. Have I ever felt anything as soft as this? he wondered.

"Catherine, your hair," he said in amazement. "It feels softer than silk between my fingers."

She laughed, and reached to run her fingers through it. "Yes, I love how soft it is when it's freshly washed."

Squeezing the excess water from her hair, she turned to face him, her face glowing in the soft candlelight. "Thank you, Vincent. That was lovely."

He froze again. He was suddenly filled with a desire to pull her close, to feel her bare, wet skin touching his. But he feared that if he did, he might not be able to stop himself from wanting more.

Catherine could see his love as well as his desire for her in his eyes. She could also see his fear. She decided that it was probably best not to push him any further.

Catherine met his timid eyes with her warm ones, sending waves of love and gentleness through the Bond. She moved her arm slowly, allowing her hand to just barely brush against his hair.

"Vincent...what you're feeling...I feel it, too. Not through our Bond, as you might, but through our love."

Vincent took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of his Catherine, allowing her very nearness to give him the courage to face his fears. "Catherine, what I feel … is so very much more than I can explain. Love, hope, uncertainty, and even … even …" It was here that Vincent's courage failed him, the truth of his passion hidden behind the veil of hair that covered his face as he dipped his head to stare into the waters of the bathing pool.

Catherine smiled softly at him as she gently lifted his face to meet her gaze. "Even things left unspoken?"

"Yes. Even … that."

"Vincent, we can choose what to speak of - or not to speak of," she added in a teasing tone. She moved closer to him still, allowing only a breath of space to remain between them. "And we can choose what to do about those feelings, or what not to do." She smiled up at him again, and motioned to the pile of towels on the ledge behind them. "We can get out and dry off, if you'd like, but if you wanted to stay longer … to see where the unspoken takes us … I'd like that, too. The choice is yours."

He looked at her. He wanted to speak, really he did … but he didn't know how to begin.

She could still see the love in his eyes … but she could also still see the fear. She smiled and nodded. She turned to walk around him toward the edge of the pool, making sure not to invade his personal space.

Reaching for the edge, the rocks beneath her feet shifted and she lost her balance.

One moment Vincent was watching Catherine leave the pool, relieved and aching with regret at the same time, and the next she had disappeared beneath the water as if something had pulled her under from beneath. She had not even had time to scream. At first he felt her surprise and then her terror.

“Catherine!” he yelled. But before he could dive in after her, he felt her hands grabbing at his ankles. In a flash, he reached into the water and yanked her up by both arms.

She came up out of the water coughing and sputtering. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and he in turn embraced her tightly.

He could feel her heart racing. Or is that mine? he wondered. “Are you all right? What happened?”

Still coughing up water, she tried to explain. “I… I’m not sure… The rocks beneath my feet gave way … and I … lost my footing.” She tightened her grip on him again.

“You frightened me, Catherine.” He held her until their hearts slowed.

Finally she loosened her grip on his neck and looked into his clear blue eyes. She gently stroked his face with one hand and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Vincent,” she whispered. “I’m fine now,” she assured him.

“Do you want to get out?” he asked.

She nodded. “I promised that I wouldn’t take advantage of you, Vincent. I intend to keep that promise.”

She sensed his relief as he lifted her out of the pool.

He could hear her laughing as she began to dry her hair with a towel.

“What’s so funny, Catherine?”

“It’s just that … the water … it’s surprisingly clear … down there.”

“And you saw something that … amused you?”

She blushed, realizing that she now had no choice but to confess. “Well … I … It’s just that … I was surprised to see that you …”

“I … what, Catherine?”

“That you are wearing … boxers.”

“And what exactly did you think I was wearing? … Briefs?”

Without thinking, she confessed, “No, Vincent, I thought you were …” She stopped suddenly, and they both stared at each other.

Catherine could feel herself blushing from head to toe. Even in the candlelight, there was no way to conceal it.

"The term we use Above is … commando." She gave him a wan smile. "After all, you are bathing, and the norm Above is to do that … in the altogether, as they say. I guess Below has different ways."

"Not so different. I just wasn't sure if anyone else would be coming from the work crew, and with wives and all dropping things off, well, discretion being the better part of valor …." He smiled. "Speaking of discretion, would you hand me that large towel?" Vincent pointed as he asked.

"That's a beach towel, isn't it?" she asked. "Is that the size towel big enough for you?"

"Yes." He climbed out as she held up the towel then wrapped it around.

"Let's take our wet things to my chamber and hang them near the brazier to dry. I think I have a robe that won't entirely engulf you."

Catherine wrapped herself in a large towel for decency's sake on the trip to the chamber. Thinking about that, she wondered what others might think, watching them walk toward his chamber clad in towels. But if it didn't bother Vincent, she wouldn't mind.

They hung up the clothes, Vincent handed her a robe to wear, and, holding the clean clothes she had brought for him earlier, he excused himself and left the chamber. Catherine wasn't exactly sure where he was going, but enough personal space had been invaded tonight to let that question go unasked.

He returned shortly, dressed and carrying a steaming teapot and a plate of cookies. She eyed each appreciatively, including him.

"I thought you might be interested in a cup of tea." He set the things down on his table, brought over a second chair, and held it out while she sat. He sat in his chair as she poured the tea. They sipped and nibbled companionably.

Catherine finally looked at her watch and noticed the late hour. "I should be going, Vincent. I have to go to work in a few hours."

"Must you?" he asked. Then, noticing the confusion on her face, clarified, "Go? Why not sleep here and leave later?"

She must have water in her ears. She could have sworn Vincent just invited her to sleep with him!

Still, she needed to be sure. "Here?" She pointed toward his bed.

He inclined his head, indicating agreement.

She nodded, unable to trust herself to speak, excitement bubbling up within her at the prospect.

They finished their snack in silence, Catherine's gaze straying more than once toward the array of plump pillows and the lovely pieced suede covering on his bed. Finally, Vincent rose and gathered their cups onto the tray. "You take the bed," he suggested. "I'll go and…"

"You're not staying with me?" The bubble of her daydream had burst, and before she could call the words back, she had blurted out her dismay.

He shook his head. "It's nearly time for me to check on the sentries. You rest. I'll awaken you in time for you to get home to prepare for work." To soften her disappointment, he tried a gentle jest. "You won't need as much time as usual, since you've already bathed!"

Her disappointment rallied her to action. "No. If you're not sleeping, neither will I." Then she realized that what had happened tonight had ramifications beyond the pleasurable. Embarrassed to only now have recognized it, she added, "I'm sorry I ruined your chance for any rest tonight." She reached for her still-damp clothes and donned them.

"Catherine, I never regret time spent with you. This evening with you will be one of my most cherished memories, and I will relive that memory until the next time we can be together." He came to her, enveloped her in a hug, gently rocking back and forth.

She returned the hug in equal measure, inhaling his scent to propel her on her way back. Then she leaned back, still in the circle of his arms. "And when will that be?"

"Not soon enough, whenever it is."

*****

As they walked to her threshold, Vincent gazed at Catherine, heart full of love, wishing beyond hope that things were different - that Below was not subject to spontaneous floods, that so many Below depended upon him in so many ways, and, yes, that he was not so different and could freely be with her Above. But his life was what it was.

When they reached their destination, he said, "I will send a note as soon as I can see some clear time."

She laid her head on his chest, just over his heart. "I'll wait impatiently for your note, and relive every moment of tonight until it comes. Be well, Vincent, and know that you are loved." She pulled back, disengaged from his arms before all will power left her, and smiled. "Good night."

He watched her leave, enter that halo of light, and ascend the ladder. He closed his eyes to capture the echo of her last words and store them in his heart. He stood a moment in stillness, savoring the memory of her visit.

Duty called as the sentry tapped the changing of the shift.