To Hope Anew

Chapter Thirteen

The rosebush, to everyone's astonishment, had flourished in thefiltered light by the river, as Diana had predicted. The day aftershe had returned Above, Vincent had carried the pot to its presentlocation. Far from bringing him pain, the beautiful flowers seemeddestined to hold the sweetness of his love for Catherine close withinhis reach. At the same time, they spoke of renewed promise, of thepossibilities of life resurrected, and of the patient, gentle, tenderhand that had brought them back from certain, languishing death.

Catherine's rosebush had not been the only thing Diana's visionhad rescued from oblivion: Vincent gave her full credit for hisrenewed belief and hope in life.

That belief, at last, espoused the simple truth he had beencarrying in his heart for months -- Diana's presence in his life wasa gift. The fiercely held hopes she sheltered within her for himcould become realities if only he could look upon them withoutfear.

But, time slipped past them, between them, still toorelentlessly.

Diana's recovery Above from her injuries had been long anddifficult. She had been kept from returning Below for months -- untilWinterfest, actually. And Vincent had not ventured to meet her Abovebefore then, relying on Laura's reports of her progressive healing ashis only source of connection to the young policewoman.

Painful as it was, they both admitted that the separation wasnecessary between them, were they ever to respond with some sort ofsanity and freedom to their ever more entwining hearts. Too much washappening too soon. The need to meld his very soul to hers was stillso precariously new, so vulnerable to guilt and fear. The addeddimension of their breathlessly expectant humanity was so frighteningand yet so beguilling.

Distance was the only answer they both trusted.

So, the long weeks had only been brightened for Diana by herrenewed visits from Samantha and Jacob at her loft, as well as theconsiderate care of Jerry, Laura, and Peter. Slowly, she had regainedthe full use of her leg, remarkably without further surgery, but shewas left a constant measure of now familiar pain in the limb,something she simply accepted as fact in her life. She knew enough ofthe spiritual kind already.

The last year had been passed with growing disillusionment withthe world Above, too.

Her life as a police profiler and investigator took Dianaconstantly to the darkest reaches of the pulsating city's terrors,places she found increasingly difficult to pull her sensitive,intuitive soul from. Yet, it was her work, her way of fighting thegood fight, against even the most insurmountable of odds. When thingsgot too painful, too confused and hopeless, she allowed herself theluxury of temporarily recuperating in the blessed peace of the worldBelow for an evening or two. Those times always seemed to renew herflagging spirit, give her courage to take up her quest for justiceagain.

Still, the moments Below were not without their own painfuldisappointments, Vincent reminded himself as he took in the wondroussight of the falls cascading over the cliff ledges. Without evenactually agreeing to it, he and Diana had indeed left their hearts insuspended anticipation on the great Spiral Staircase. They rejoicedin each other's company, still, sought out each other's counsel andencouragement, but they had anxiously buried their heartstopping needfor one another in that part of their souls that would see the lightof day only under extraordinary besiegement.

The thought, the promise of closer communion, would remain abeautiful mystery too overwhelming to touch to at this precariousmoment in their lives. Because each knew the other was suddenly sowilling to believe in its promise.

Even so, their experience of one another could not remain staticfor long, despite their best efforts to shelter their hearts from theonslaught of sweet agony their dreams could plunge them into.

When they finally allowed themselves their destinies again, theyfound the limits, fears, and uncertainties falling by the waysidewith desperate abandon. They'd been willing to hope. Vincent hadached to offer her more than mere hope. Diana had been more thanwilling to accept that hope in the place of conscious reality.

Now, in a few hour's time, that hope would come face to face withthe truth of who he was. Whether that truth could be as tenderlywelcomed between them still remained painfully uncertain.

One truth was startlingly clear, though: Vincent's life would becomplete only with the incomprehensible enigma of a woman by hisside. She had envisioned a garden, born of rock and shadow, bothphysically in his world, and in his heart as well, and she had workedto see her vision through. His life, as a result, was so muchbrighter, and promising because of it.

Nothing on earth could possibly keep her from working her miracleon his soul, Vincent knew, not even his own turmoil and resistance.

He thanked heaven for that as well.

Coming to his feet, Vincent skirted the bench and trees to makehis way up to the children's pool. His path was brightened by thepotted plants and flowers that had accumulated in the makeshiftgarden over the past year and a half. Diana's idea had touched upon adeeply felt need of the community as a whole: That, while theycherished the unique, rocky beauty of their own world, theopportunity to share in a little natural enclave of green withintheir own safe boundaries would be a rare blessing.

He knew, too, that Diana saw the small space of verdant welcome asa gift of peace she could still offer him, an expression of the loveshe'd been long forced to contain against its will, a sheltered worldof beauty he could share in safety with Jacob. With her. And thecommunity seemed to embrace the opportunity to make that garden ofpossibilities bloom for their beloved protector, too.

Thus, it had become an unofficial tradition for all -- whenever ababy was born, an anniversary celebrated, even a difficult series ofschool papers completed with success --

a new pot of greenery appeard in the little park to commemoratethe event. Everyone took turns watering and tending the garden andgrass, and Helpers were more than willing to provide suitableadditions along with their more practical gifts of supplies, helpingto nurture the spirit of the community as well as its physicalneeds.

The place Vincent had once regretfully described as his tombbecame a living embodiment of love and care again.

The garden was the one spot in which Vincent surrendered to thedelicious freedom of simply enjoying life with his child. More andmore often, those moments were also shared with Diana, times ofgentle nurturing of their tested spirits, moments when life couldactually be as it should be.

They splashed in the pool, built sandcastles in the children'splay area, read to Jacob in turn for hours. Sometimes, they just layin the grass, surrounded by the warm reflected sunlight and the sweetfragrance of the damp and green space. Vincent's heart stoodawestruck at the power of the love that would materialize such aforbidden pleasure for him, allowing him to smile at Jacob chasingbarefoot in the grass beneath a stone sky that lacked only clouds tobe complete. Even that want could be overlooked: He and Jacob simplylooked to the outcroppings of rock around them to imagine shapes andfigures, instead of to the clouds. Never again would his heart breakbecause of the limitations forced around him and his child.

Those limits remained only around two like hearts that prayed forsimilar release.

On one afternoon early last fall, Vincent remembered now, the costto Diana because of those limits had become painfully clear tohim.

They had been enjoying their time in the garden on that particularday, Jacob having found himself powerless to resist the effects ofhis boundless energy and the warm sunlight. The child had fallenasleep blissfully on the grass after an abundant picnic lunch,William's effort among many, to provide a bit of a normalcy and sweetindulgence into the pained relationship between his two dearfriends.

Diana had cuddled close to the little boy naturally, listening asVincent continued to read softly from "Pooh". It wasn't long beforethe fatiguing reality of her current work

circumstances caught up with the young police woman, too, and shewas soon asleep as well, the rhythm of her breathing sharing that ofthe child's, her arms sheltering the little boy carefully.

When Vincent realized he was actually reading only to himself, hestopped, and felt irresistibly drawn to the sight of the two precioussouls before him. A sweep of wonder

spilled over his heart, as he held to the beauty he'd cherish withhis last breath: his son, and the amber-haired angel who appearedvery much to be his loving guardian at the moment.

Almost as if he felt his father's tender scrutiny, Jacob turned inhis repose just then, to face Diana, making himself completelycomfortable on her arm, his small hand resting on her cheek easily.If one was not aware the child had been bereft of his mother sincebirth, the sweet, sheltering communion between the little boy andDiana cradling him could have been mistaken for nothing less than theportrait of motherly love incarnate.

Watching them gratefully, with an awareness of the peace andacceptance each soul had for the other, Vincent felt the gentledevotion radiating out to him, too. There was a place for him, also,that their loving hearts called his own to acknowledge, right besidethem. Their glowing communion of spirit was there for him to share aswell. Even if the relationship between the woman and child was only areflection of the truth -- as was the sunlight flooding the cavernaround them.

Vincent came to his feet and brought over to the sleeping figuresthe light blanket they had carried with them, gently setting it overDiana and Jacob lest they become chilled in the cool, humid air.Gazing long into the young woman's ethereal features, he realized,with a start, that there were dark circles showing through the pearlyskin around her eyes. She was immediately so deeply asleep that theexhaustion, mental and physical, she had been grappling with forweeks, was evident even now in her rest.

She looked so vulnerable. And so beautiful.

Vincent let his overwhelming need to reach out to her overcome hisself-imposed restraints on his heart. He eased his body downalongside hers softly and set a sheltering arm over Diana's slenderfigure, his hand resting at her waist. He kissed her hair.

At any other moment in their turbulent experience of one another,just holding her near would have been a threat to his fiercelycontrolled, fiercely denied, humanity Vincent wasn't certain he couldeasily have mastered. Yet, at that instant it felt so totally --right --

to be enveloping her, and his child, with his protectivepresence.

It was as if they had always had the freedom to touch to theoneness they all shared thus: long-standing, comfort-giving, noterotic, but deeply holding to a profound communion of souls. It was ablessed moment of long sought peace, for all three of them.

When Diana stirred awake momentarily, to find herself sheltered inVincent's arms, she merely let her green eyes shine up to him,gratefully, with an open trust that could have been experienced onlyby time-tested lovers who had weathered life's turmoil together foryears. It had felt so right, so blessedly right, to be together then.He'd felt no fear, dreaded no darkness overcoming them.

It would be the same way for them tonight, as they began their newlife as one, he knew. Or, more truthfully, Vincent prayed it would beso. For Diana's sake.

Reaching the pool, the powerful figure came down on his knees torest beside a much smaller, quite wet one, hopelessly visited bymischevious giggles. Jamie had another two urchins on her side of thepool. "I don't know why we even try to keep them dry," she called outamid a shower of kicked up water, her words not cross, but patientlyborn of happy and resigned experience. Jacob turned to throw his armsaround his father's neck.

"Is it time already, Father?" he asked in that exasperated voicechildren reserve for all the ridiculous restraints adults would placeon their uninhibited fun. Vincent attempted to let the tone of voiceslip past him without smiling too obviously. His little boy wasgrowing too quickly for his tastes.

Drying Jacob off as best as he could under the precipitatingcircumstances, Vincent responded kindly. "Yes, we must be gettingback, Jacob. Grandfather will be looking for us and we must getready."

The innately kindhearted child would never wish to keep hisbeloved grandparent waiting, so he quickly resigned himself to thefact that playtime was over for the moment. After a long five minutesof searching for and sorting out shoes and socks, and replacing themon reluctant little feet, the small party was ready to head back tothe central chambers.

Vincent gave Jamie an appreciative hug for her endurance with goodhumor in the company of the children. She'd become quite skillful incaring for the younger members of the community, to everyone'ssurprise, especially her own. Vincent smiled to himself as he thoughtof the way she even managed to survive Mouse's chaotic personalitywith spirit. The fact that their resident engineering genius hadsuddenly begun looking upon his childhood companion with a blushinglyappraising heart was becoming evident to all in the community aswell.

It appeared the confused circumstances of a relationshipattempting to overcome odds was not only in the realm of Vincent'sand Diana's experience alone.

On the way back through the meandering tunnels that the childrenwere already adept at following confidently, Jacob paused to take hisfather's hand momentarily. Vincent stooped down to one knee at thequestioning touch. "What is it, Jacob?" he asked.

The little boy's bright face became as serious as it could remain,evidence that he had been pondering important concepts in his littleheart as well as splashing in the pool. "Today Diana becomes mymother?" he asked slowly, working out the idea as he spoke thewords.

The powerful figure bent to his level paused a moment beforeresponding. Vincent had always been totally honest with the child,the little boy's precocious intelligence urging him to share hisheart and mind with his son in welcome understanding. Thecircumstances of Jacob's birth, however, and his mother's death, wereburdened memories Vincent had struggled to place into perspective forthe little boy in terms he could comprehend. What his son was askingnow was genuinely difficult for him to explain without pain, eventhough he had already broached the subject with the boy a number oftimes before.

Kissing his child on the forehead softly, Vincent rubbed thesturdy little back for a moment, hoping the words would come to himagain. "She will be the mother who loves and cares for you every dayhere in our world, Jacob, as her own child. She has been doing so fora very long time, almost since the day you were born."

"Then I will have two mothers? My angel mother in heaven,Catherine, and my own earth mother, Diana?"

The child's conclusion stunned Vincent with its remarkableclarity. He felt a knot rising in his throat, robbing him of hisvoice momentarily, not because of any sudden pain at the words, butat the wonder of the child's heart. Vincent knew without a doubt thathis world would be gifted in future years by the boy's generous,sensitive vision and care.

"Yes, Jacob. You will be blessed with two mothers in your life."And he would be blessed with a new opportunity to live his own lifein promise.

The little boy let his face glow at the thought of his gift. "I amso lucky, father!" he exclaimed, then he quit his father's hand torun up ahead with Luke and Katy. Jamie smiled back at Vincent, thenproceeded to toussle the nearest youngster's hair.

"We both are so lucky, Jacob," Vincent whispered as he came backup to his feet.

"Is there anything else that needs to go?" Rebecca asked brightly,returning from her second trip down the rock corridors. Diana waspulling the quilt up smoothly on the bed. She turned to the youngwoman who had joined her again in the guest chamber.

"There's only that box there, but I can carry it."

"Sorry. I can't let you do that. You might run into Vincent andthat will be bad luck before the ceremony." A mockly seriousexpression accompanied the reply.

"Honestly, Rebecca, you don't believe that, do you?" Diana askedwith a smile.

"Of course not, but I was sworn upon pain of kitchen duty for thenext month to keep you out of Vincent's chamber this morning."Rebecca made a "cross my heart, hope to die" pledge as she spoke heroath. Both women burst out laughing.

"All right, I won't spoil whatever it is that you all are planningto spring on me today."

Diana gave the pillows on the bed one last fluffing.

"Oh, but that is only the first part of today's specialcircumstances for you, Diana. As soon as you are done here you mustjoin us all at Mary's chamber for breakfast."

"Mary's chamber?" Diana questioned, surprised. Meals were alwaystaken in common in the community whenever possible. Only the ill weretreated to the luxury of meals brought into their rooms.

Rebecca read the sudden concern in Diana's face and reassured herquickly. "Don't worry. Mary's fine. It's just a tradition we havehere in the community on a wedding day. We treat the new bride to afew surprises."

Smoothing out the pillows, Diana let a warm ease fill her at thethought of the day to come, and how everyone in the Underworld seemedso eager to consider her one of their own. Her earlier feelings ofuncertain disquiet evaporated in the brightness of Rebecca's sinceresmile.

The young candle maker of the community took up the finalcollection of her companion's belongings, then paused before headingout the doorway of the chamber again. Her attention had been capturedby a small box wrapped in flowery white paper that rested on the topof the pile she was carrying. A tag taped to the top read, "Don'topen 'til

you're in your new home," in a neat, masculine hand.

Rebecca had to ask, her curiosity piqued, as she was secure in thefriendship she shared with the bride-to-be. "Is this a gift,Diana?"

Coming over to the box, the red-haired woman lifted the smallpackage up and into her hands. "I almost forgot about this. It's fromJoe. It came to my loft just while I was packing up, so I set it inthat box."

"Joe?" A sudden pang of protective alarm rose up inside Rebecca.She wasn't aware Diana had been close to anyone else, any other man,except Vincent. That thought brought to mind how much turmoilCatherine's continued, intermittent, relationship with Elliot Burchhad brought Vincent. In his loving selflessness, her childhood friendwould never admit it to anyone, but Rebecca had picked up onVincent's quiet suffering nevertheless, the pain of a life that hecould never offer Catherine so easily causing guilt and shame.

Diana had freed the tag from the box, and holding it in one handshe brought her attention to Rebecca's unspoken anxiety that wasquickly evident in her face. "Joe Maxwell. District Attorney. I workwith him."

Relief spilled over Rebecca as she recognized the name, and thefact that the young DA was held in high regard within even their owncommunity, without ever having had the opportunity of finding himselfin their midst. "He was Catherine's friend also, wasn't he? He helpedyou after she was . . . killed."

"Yes," Diana replied quietly, feeling herself thrust into thosemaddening weeks when she'd been compelled to throw herself, body andsoul, into an investigation that would change her life. "Joe let mework my own way, without questions, when I had to keep him fromknowing about everything here -- everyone. He trusted me when Iwasn't certain I had the sense to trust myself."

"Father believes him to be a good man."

Nodding in agreement, Diana continued. "I think one of the fewreal regrets I have about leaving the world Above is the fact that Ihaven't been able to tell him anything about what was really going onthen. He's one of the few people I've ever known with totalintegrity. That's why I hated keeping the truth from him."

"Maybe Father will let you tell him about us. We could use moreHelpers who care.

And I'm certain he could propably use a safe place himself, attimes." Touching a reassuring hand to Diana's arm, Rebecca smiled."At any rate, I'll take these things and let you have a few moreminutes to yourself. Join us when you're ready."

"Thanks," Diana offered. Once her companion had quit the room, shesat back down on the side of the bed and pulled the wrapping paperoff the box in her hands. Opening the lid of the box, a warm smileradiated from deep within her as she took in the contents of the giftfrom the man she'd come to consider as a trusted friend.

It was a beautiful stationery set of vellum paper tinged withsubtle, hand-applied colors. A pen and pencil resting in a smallwooden box with an intricate mosaic design completed the set. Onceshe'd put aside the tasteful writing implements, Diana found herselflaughing freely when she retrieved another, second box camouflagedwithin the tissue paper remaining in the gift: It was a travel-sizedversion of a "Ouija Board." Another note was tucked in the verybottom of the box:

"These are so you can reach me in whatever way you need to,whenever you need to, Bennet. I'll be there for you, if you ever needa friend. Remember that, Diana.

Thanks for everything . . . Joe."

Diana shook her head as she held the note, almost seeing the darkeyes challenging her to refuse his offer of continued friendship.He'd once accused her of drawing her conclusions in her work as aresult of the questionable divining devise, the witching board. Shehad to admit that he'd had to swallow a lot of conflictingcircumstances in his dealings with her. God, she did regret having tolie to him! He deserved better. They may have had their differencesinitially, but he never abandoned her to the fatal bureaucracy oftheir world no matter how far from the norm she was forced to strayin her work or her embattled personal life.

Joe must have gotten used to accepting imponderables as facts,Diana thought with honest gratitude, from his dealings withCatherine's involvement with the Underworld. Despite all the missingpieces, all the explanations that just wouldn't add up, he had puthimself at risk, setting aside his common sense so often to helpCatherine, without exactly knowing the reasons why it wasnecessary.

Diana had guessed immediately that Joe's complete trust of hisco-worker was only an outgrowth of the love he felt for her. It musthave been so difficult for Catherine to keep him in the dark abouther life away from her job, too.

It had been difficult for Diana to tell him of her own decision toquit her work as well.

She'd gone to his office last week, not exactly certain of whatshe was going to say to him. The truth, of course, was impossible, nomatter how worthy she knew him to be entrusted with it. Still, Dianahad a very real sense that the DA already knew more of it than hewould admit to her, not because of any failure on her part to keepher involvement with the Underworld hidden, but because he, himself,had been so closely skirting that involvement over the past sixyears, first through Catherine, and then through herself.

Luckily for them both, Joe Maxwell had decided somewhere in thattime that for each of the women, the mysteries surrounding theirpersonal lives were too deep and too fiercely protected to become athreat to anyone other than themselves and their own peace of mind.He may have guessed at the particulars, but Diana felt he might nothave really wanted to know the truth.

Yet, the young police woman couldn't simply vanish from the faceof the earth. She knew he cared too deeply for her to let herdisappear without expending all of his considerable energies onfinding her. That had been quickly proven when she had been strandedBelow for three weeks as a result of the flood.

So, Diana had arranged to meet Joe after work last Friday eveningat his office, to explain her actions as nearly as she could.

"Don't I usually call you on the carpet, Bennet?" he had jokedwhen she had come through his door. It was still hard for her toactually place him in the thoroughly

"lawyer-ly" environment of his office -- the leather chairs, thebookcases overflowing with thick volumes.

Even after having won the right to the office on his own merits inthe election two years ago, he seemed slightly ill-at-ease in hiscircumstances, telling her once that he'd dreamed of sitting behindthe DA's desk, but never wanting to have inherited the positionbecause of the betrayal of it former occupant. John Moreno had beenJoe's mentor. Knowing that he'd sold out to Gabriel for his own placewithin the bloody international drug syndicate, that Moreno hadhanded Cathy over to the madman that would murder her, had been theultimate blow to Joe's sense of decency and justice.

Since Catherine's death, Diana had watched, in pain, the youngDA's cynicism grow. He may have thrown himself whole-heartedly,defensively, into his work, but she doubted that he'd ever again feelone person was capable of making a difference in the world. Hisposition meant little to him, on so many days, she knew, offeredlittle that showed it was possible to hold on to his convictions andmorals. He seemed very much more comfortable sitting at her kitchentable in a sweatshirt, throwing leads at her on cases they wereworking on together with offhand expertise. At least, if they workedhard, they might be able to accomplish something lasting.

He'd never trust the power of the DA's office completely, again,even with himself at the helm. But, an unimpeachable honesty andquiet integrity still shone out of his beleaguered spirit, as heattempted to convince himself that justice could indeed work in thecity around him.

The weight of the world hanging heavily on his shoulders so often,Joe was nevertheless happy to see his companion, a young woman heconsidered one of those few still fearless souls insane enough tobelieve in right and wrong. At the moment, seeing her usuallysupremely contained and confidant manner wavering for some unforseenreason, the DA decided to relish his role, for once, as her demandingboss. It afforded him the rare opportunity to attempt to shake herunflappable control. But his efforts were not bearing fruittoday.

"I don't think I'm guilty of any infractions of the law,counselor, nor of any particular police procedures," Diana repliedwith that hint of a smile that always told Joe he was being preciselyoutmaneuvered.

"That means I'm the one in trouble, I guess," Joe decided with hisown smile, gesturing for Diana to sit in the chair before his desk.He came around the massive oak table himself and sat on the corner,loosening his tie and unbuttoning his collar like a schoolboy finallyallowed some small measure of freedom from the restraints ofcivility.

Diana looked down at her hands in her lap a minute, trying togather her thoughts. The difficulty she was having was apparent toher superior. He quickly decided to become only her friend.

"What is it, Diana?"

She raised her eyes to him for a long moment, and Joe suddenlyrealized how . . . beautiful . . . she really was, once she set asideher protective outer toughness. . . and how important her friendshiphad become to him.

Seeking out the breathtaking contrasts he usually was struck by ofher enigmatic presence -- the fragile strength, the vulnerable fire,the radiant ice -- Joe was startled by the fact that, for once, sheseemed uncertain of herself, anxious and unsure. He'd been worriedabout her the past few months, and now that worry set off alarms inhis head, and in his heart.

Even though she was one of the police department's best profilersand investigators, he'd become increasingly selective about which ofthe special cases he would refer to her superiors for her assignment.Her methods of working, totally placing herself within a case,indeed, within a victim, within a suspect, seemed to be taking moreand more of her own sense of self away from her. The De Salvo caselast fall had been the one that had really heightened his anxiety forher. Though she'd never admitted it to him, he'd felt that the casehad brought her to the breaking point.

Yet, when he'd been most worried for her, she suddenly seemed tohave undergone a quiet transformation. Sure, she still looked likeshe didn't sleep much or eat well for weeks at a time when sheworked, she could probably have used a forced banishment to anupstate cabin with no phone, no television and no human interference,but there was something . . . peaceful . . . about her that beliedany momentary confusion he might be causing her. The fragile, almosthaunted look behind her eyes was gone. There was the faintest tingeof color in her cheeks that no makeup brush could master. And hersoft smile truly seemed to originate from the heart.

Something was helping her find her way back to herself, Joedecided, gratefully. Or, more than likely, someone. He mentallycatalogued the men in her division on the force he judged couldremotely withstand her tempered steel nature. They were a small andunconvincing number. Maybe he didn't know her as well as he thoughthe did, he conceded. Not even another cop could put up with themadness she had to drag herself through because of her work.

The green eyes raised up to him were lively, yet questioning. Hewas certain, now, that he'd never be able to gauge the mercurial soulbefore him for sure. Her words to him only served to emphasize thatfact. "I don't know how to say this, Joe, except to just come rightout with it." She stopped a moment to take in the sudden look ofconcern that came over the young DA's face. She shook her head."Don't worry. It's not that bad. Actually, I'm doing you a favor . .. I'm . . . quitting . . . my job, effective next Wednesday."

Joe looked long at the woman before him, picking up a paper clipoff his desk without even noticing it and rubbing it between hisfingers absently. "You're serious." It was a question as much as astatement. Cops like her could literally kill themselves beforethey'd pull back, he knew. He'd seen too many of them crash and burn,their personal lives a shambles, all because of their relentlessdedication to a justice that would be sold down the river with thefirst plea-bargain within reach. He'd been set to bullying her intoscaling back her work, for her own sake. Now, here she was tellinghim she already had.

"The cases have been burying me, Joe, taking me apart, piece bypiece. I can't go on with them, but I don't know any other way ofworking them effectively." The words were as near to apologetic asshe'd ever come with him, under any circumstances. It threw him offbalance. He didn't want her feeling guilty for valuing hersanity.

"I know, Diana. I've watched you work, remember? And I know thatyou're right. You've put in your time. You need to think aboutyourself, take care of yourself." He realized her face was full ofgratitude, unembarassed. Cathy had a way of looking at him like that,of saying so much more with her eyes than her words did.

"So, where are you transfering in the department?" he askedlightly, happy to have been relieved of a duty he wasn't certain he'dbeen able to adequately handle. "I'll need to keep tabs on you, warnyour unsuspecting new superiors . . . "

The thought wasn't quite finished because Diana broke in with herexplanation. "Joe, I'm not just quitting my cases . . . I'm quittingthe force . . . completely. Captain Philips got my resignation lastMonday. I'm out of police work as of next week."

Joe looked into the clear, deep eyes meeting his and trieddesperately to find where he had missed about a half hour's worth ofexplanation on her part which just might have clarified thatstatement.

Sure, she'd had it rough lately with her caseload. She deserved aless agonizing way to make a living. They all did in their line ofwork. But, she was a damn good cop, even aside from her profilingexpertise. She'd bucked all sorts of odds to do what she did andbecome so good at it. Her father had been a cop, a man she revered.Now she was giving it all up? For what?

Coming off the desk corner, Joe began to pace the room. "And whatare you going to do instead?" came his more than slightly incredibleinquiry.

A feeling of relief swept through Diana. She smiled evenly at herco-worker's consternation, certain she was going to get the better ofhim in this conversation after all. Still, she had to choose herwords carefully, knowing Joe the way that she did.

"I've been offered a . . . teaching job . . . at a small, privateschool for gifted students. I'll be working up a whole new humanitiescurriculum for them." The truth, but not exactly. Diana offered asilent prayer that the DA would take her at her word, for once.

Joe stopped his pacing long enough to quickly review the pastthree years of her life as he was aware of them and managed to puttwo and two together. He understood everything now, even if all thosealarms inside him were threatening to short circuit his control."This school wouldn't happen to be Samantha's school, now, wouldit?"

Diana's heart sank, conceeding she was walking through a minefield . How in hell did Catherine manage to do it? she wondered.

The truth was that Catherine never had to have this conversationwith Joe.

Taking a deep breath, Diana decided on her course of action. Sheknew she couldn't leave too many details of her change in lifestyledangling because Joe was too good of an investigator himself tosimply let them pass. He was also too good a friend to leave withoutsome plausible attempt at explanation and reassurance. And he seemed,at the moment, quite intent upon discovering her motivations, drawingon three years of evasions and circuitous logic to fuel hisprobing.

"Yes. It is Samanatha's school." The one thing Diana was certainof at the moment was the fact that she trusted Joe implicitely. Maybethis was something meant to be, after all. Maybe Joe was meant tohear it all, at last, from her.

Joe read the quiet pleading that accompanied the words of Diana'sexplanation. She was asking him to be satisfied with her answer andto just leave it at that. Not this time, he told her with his ownwordless challenge. His silent acquiescence to the mysteriessurrounding Catherine's private life had helped get her killed. Hewas convinced of that. The same thing was not going to happen to theyoung woman before him.

"Samantha's school?" he questioned again, watching the green eyesturn from pleading to searing. Letting his own anger rise freelywithin him, barely in check, he no longer cared that she was drillinghim with that laser intensity she was capable of at her mostoutraged. This was her safety and well-being they were hashing outhere.

He filtered the facts through his mind as she had presented themto him over the course of the last several months. Samantha's school,her home, was apparently in some remote little corner of the world,as he understood it. Every time he'd met the sweet-tempered girl inDiana's company, she'd managed to also deflect his inquiries abouther real home. Joe liked the girl too much to press her for answersshe seemed not prepared to give, but it all started to fit togetherfor him now. Diana would be teaching in this place, she would havehim believe, this nameless, featureless, directionless place.Wherever the hell it was. Why couldn't she just trust him with itall?

Inwardly, though, Joe knew exactly why Diana would not offer himthe whole truth.

"So, does this mean you're moving out of the city, too?" Thequestion was meant to rankle his companion's composure, but it cameout with an unmistakable undercurrent of disappointment as much aschallenge. Neither Joe nor Diana herself had counted on what thatfeeling meant to their experiences of one another. It was going to beas painful for the DA to contemplate losing her friendship as it wasfor the police woman to do so. Knowing that his questioning was onlycoming about because of his care for her, Diana continued to answeras truthfully as she could.

"I'll be leaving the city, too."

Joe came back to the edge of the desk, but didn't really look ather as much as through her. He seemed to be working up to hisquestions with as much difficulty as she was having to find answers.Diana wished fervently that she could just tell him everything andset his mind at ease. Finally he focused on her and spoke quietly."New career. New home. That's quite a leap of circumstances, Bennet.You sure it's what you want to do with your life now?"

"Yes, Joe. It's what I want. I'll take molding the bright youngminds of some pretty exceptional kids to drowning in the psychoses ofa serial killer any day."

When she put it that way, Joe found he almost wished he had theguts to do the same, grab hold of a dream and commit to it no matterwhat. But he was too far entrenched in the war to give it all up. Histone softened perceptively, as he continued to wonder at her courage."Then if it's really what you want, Diana, I wish you the best,honestly. I may have given you a hard time in the past, but you'vekind of grown on me, you know? Where the devil am I ever going tofind someone to replace you?"

Smiling at the conciliatory words, Diana came to her feet and gaveJoe an easy hug. If there was anyone in this city that could use therestorative nurturing of the tunnel world, it was the young DA. Sheresolved that he would not have to struggle in vain, if she hadanything to do about it.

"I'm sure you'll find someone else in the department to harangueofficially. As for personally, I'll stay in touch. You've been a goodfriend, Joe. I don't want to lose that. We won't need to losethat."

The DA held on to her hand a long moment, and Diana realized theirconversation was still not going to end on that uncomplicated note.He wasn't going to let the opportunity pass this time, sensing thestruggle he was enmeshed within to both protect a valued friend andleave that friend to her own wildly incomprehensible privacy. Sheprepared herself for the questions Joe had been working up thecourage to ask her for the past three years. They were coming forsure. And he deserved the answers. He was no threat.

Joe picked up his thread of anxious probing again with the usualroundabout, casual humor he always disguised his heartfelt thoughtswith. "Yeah, right. You'll stay in touch -- A letter every sixmonths, a Christmas card once a year, a rumor on the police grapevinethat you've joined a Buddhist monastery as a nun. Or worse yet --Next thing I know you'll be sending me some other cryptic message bycarrier pigeon telling me you've gone domestic and are actuallysettling down with some poor, deluded soul incapable of resistingyour considerable charms."

So that was it.

Diana could follow his train of thought: The only reason she couldpossibly be packing up her life at this moment in time was because ofher heart -- not her mental health. And she guessed Joe was prettycertain where that heart lay. She thought she could diffuse thestatement and all it's connotations, but thought better of it. Heneeded to hear the truth, or as near the truth as she could offerhim, without compromising the trust that had been placed in her by anextraordinary soul she would protect with her dying breath.

"I am settling down, Joe. I'm getting married. That's why I'mleaving."

Her besieged companion let that response settle into his awarenessa minute. It wasn't the one he'd expected to hear, God knows. Itdidn't fit with the dark, phantom images that coursed through hismind at the mere thought of what she could actually be involved in.

Or of whom she could be involved with.

Still, she was being unusually open with him, despite her obviousstruggle at the whole process. This was something that held onto adeep and profound part of her, he judged. He truly didn't want tocause her any pain, just keep her from walking into a heartache thatcould even cost her her life. And everything about this decisionpointed to plenty of heartache for her, he believed. What in hell wasshe thinking of doing here? Not even Catherine had contemplated suchaction. Or had she?

It wasn't that Joe felt himself romantically linked to the youngpolice woman before him. There wasn't much of his own heart left,after losing Cathy, to link to anyone else. Still, Diana was young,beautiful, vibrant, and startlingly gifted in her spirit andintellect. He knew without question that she was someone who'd puther life on the line when it really counted for someone. If he'd beensmart, he would have opened his heart to her and saved them both alot of grief and guilt the past three years. But, obviously someoneelse already had.

Joe let his mind drift as he took in her features, so open andquietly determined. There was a delicate blush coming over her facethat he thought had gone out of style with the girls at his parishgrade school, the sort of gentle warmth that hinted at deeply feltand cherished emotions.

God, she really was in love, he thought with a start. Enough topack up, lock, stock, and badge, and head to the ends of the earth tobe with him. Whoever he was.

No, that wasn't right . . . Joe knew who he was. And Diana knewthat he did, too, all along . . . Vincent.

. . . That time she'd disappeared for three weeks -- she'd comeback to his office one Monday afternoon on crutches with little morethan an "I'm back" to explain her absence. When the casts came offher arm and leg, and the scars and bruises gave evidence to aharrowing ordeal, she had seemed no worse for the trauma. In fact,aside from a quiet kind of -- sadness -- she carried around with herdaily, she seemed to harbor some treasured secret she could touch towhen things got particularly tough.

Then her eyes would sparkle and her skin glow, and her face toldhim she had completely, mercifully, slipped away from the starkrealitities of her life to a place of shining promise.

. . . Or to someone she loved.

Damn it! Cathy had been capable of just such a transformation aswell. From the frenzied realities of life in the churning, devouringcity, to the peace and solace of someone she loved -- Vincent.

But, how could it possibly be? The thought of the shadowy figureconjured up all manner of horrors, still, for Joe: Bone-chillingpolice photos, a phantom too terrifying to show his face in the lightof day . . . A creature of dark places and even darker urges.

Three years had passed since Cathy's death, and he still could notreconcile himself to the thought that such a nightmarish figure couldever have claimed her heart.

Now, Diana seemed ready to succumb to that same, foreboding,mysterious fate. Willingly. Gratefully. With tenderness shining inher eyes. She'd completely taken leave of her senses, the DAconcluded with exasperation.

"Married . . . well . . . Congratulations, Bennet. Do I get aninvitation to the wedding, or is it close family only?"

Diana noted, with a pang, that Joe's humor had a distinct edge toit. Ordinarily she would have bristled at him questioning herdecisions, but, at the moment, she felt only disappointment at thethought they would spend their last moments of close contact battlingconflicting conclusions. There wasn't much she could do about it. Joewas certain she was throwing her life away at this point, and hecared too much about her to let her do it without at least readingher down.

What was really making him angry, Diana understood, was herwillingness, apparently, to give herself over to the unknown, placingherself beyond his reach to protect. He felt threatened by the samehelplessness as had overwhelmed him when Catherine had disappeared.There wasn't a damn thing he could do to find his co-worker then.Where in God's name was Diana willing to disappear to, that hecouldn't reach, either?

Disturbed as much as she that they were parting company withtension and anxiety between them, Joe drew in his colliding emotionsas much as possible. His tone softened again, wanting only for her tosee that life could be a treacherous pathway for the unsuspectingidealist. He'd learned that himself, too late.

"Career change, a new home, marriage -- That doesn't leave muchelse for you to experience, I'd say, except maybe motherhood."

The words were again light and casual -- and probing as deeply ashe still had the courage to. He couldn't let her go unless he wassure she wouldn't regret it for the rest of her life.

Diana read his desperate concern, knowing precisely where he washeading. She had to reassure him, praying that she'd be able todefend her actions to Father later.

"I've got that one covered, too," she responded quietly.

Joe looked at her and read her calm features, though he guessed atthe defiant turmoil she must have been keeping a tight hold on. Forheaven's sake, Maxwell, he berated himself, she's a grown woman who'sstood her ground with the scum of the earth on a regular basis. Giveher some credit.

Then his thoughts turned to the final piece in the convolutedpuzzle of her recent life --

the little boy he'd seen her with on numerous occasions the pasttwo years -- Jacob. The little boy she obviously loved as her ownchild. He simply could not quit his questioning without settling thatlast bit of indecipherable reality.

On the odd weekends he'd had to corner her at her home with someinformation that couldn't wait, the child, and his ever-present youngguardian, Samantha, had been casually inhabiting her apartment withthe easy familiarity of a long-standing routine. It was obvious thechildren were close to her, and she to them, especially so to thesmall boy who was growing into a startlingly bright and devotedsoul.

Joe had guessed how the children fit into the picture of Diana'sprivate life. He had also guessed at Jacob's parentage, withincredulous shock. How could the angelic child have been fathered bya creature of the night that Joe's sensitivities had painted theshadowy Vincent as? There had to have been some . . . love . . .between the little boy's mother and that primordial being . . .Catherine would have borne a child in love. There had to be someredeeming answer to it all, something to suggest now that Dianawasn't destined for pain and nightmares alone.

"Jacob must be very happy," he said carefully, watching forDiana's reaction. She'd not come right out with the identity of herfuture husband. Diana only turned honest eyes of hope to Joe.

"I believe he really is. I can't imagine finally being with himevery day. I love him so much, Joe. He's such a precious littlesoul."

She'd made no attempt to evade his conclusions. Her face wasglowing at the thought of the child.

In conceeding guilt, Joe admitted to himself that he was beingprotectively paranoid, grilling his companion relentlessly as thoughshe were some suspect off the street instead of a dearly trusted andvalued friend. She was happy. Somehow, in all the byzantine twists ofher life of late, she had found what she needed to make life worthliving. Give her the chance to be happy, the DA urged his innerself.

But he had to be sure.

"And Jacob's -- father?" Joe asked coolly, determined that itwould be his last challenge to her sanity.

Diana locked her green eyes onto his dark ones before responding.There was nothing that angered her now. Joe was simply a damn goodinvestigator. And a damn good friend looking out for her, whether shewanted him to or not.

"I love him, Joe," came the soft reply he knew was the only one hewould hear from her. "More than I thought I could ever love anyone.He loves me. It's been long and painful and hard in coming, but it'sreal and deep and true. I could want nothing else in life."

Her face had that gentle blush about it again. There was nomistaking it now. This was a hard-boiled cop sitting in front of himwho'd witnessed murder and mayhem and had come dangerously close tolosing herself within them more than once. But here she was, touchingtenderly to her future, linking her dreams to someone who could quitepossibly not be entirely of this realm of life.

He should be so lucky, Joe suddenly thought.

Pulling Diana into a close and warm embrace, the DA said, "You'regiving everything up, Bennet, for a dream. Is it worth it?"

She nodded her head without hesitation. He envied her conviction."Joe, everything else in my life pales in comparison." He believedher then, totally, at last.

"Well, I'm happy for you, Diana, if that's the case. Really." Hegave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. "But, if you ever need anything,if you ever find yourself in trouble . . . "

" . . . If I ever miss your off-hand humor or your impeccablejudgment of character, I'll get in touch. I promise." He knew shewould.

"You are full of surprises, Bennet," he called out to her as sheturned to leave him. She smiled back at him.

"Anything to keep you on your toes, Maxwell."

Somehow, Diana had managed to bring Joe out past his fears for herthat day. He trusted that what she carried in her hert was true andvalued, worth the risk of pain and hardship. He might have hatedgiving up their tested friendship, but he'd been willing to trustthat her decisions were important and precious to her.

Replacing the lid on the small gift box, Diana smiled softly. Joetruly did have the spirit and heart of a member of the Underworldcommunity. He'd probably feel right at home here Below and everyonewould surely welcome him. It was sad, though, that he was sofervantly needed in the world Above, his work for the truth, forjustice in a city so sorely lacking in them too often these days.

Joe deserved to find his own peace in the warm, candlelit shelterof the tunnel community.

Maybe Rebecca was right -- Perhaps Father would approve of hisbeing welcomed into their midst as a valued Helper some day soon.She'd treasure the look of abject confusion his face would be boundto register the first time he'd lay eyes on the rocky chambers of theUnderworld. It would truly be worth seeing.

And to have him finally meet Vincent face to face . . . that wouldbe a moment to remember.

Time was slipping past this morning so quickly, and Diana came toher feet off the bed. She recognized, with grateful satisfaction,that these would be her last moments in the guest chamber. In a fewhours' time, there would not be any further reason for her to behoused in a room such as this. She would become a true member of theUnderground family. She'd felt as such from the first moments she'dbeen ushered into the fantastic utopia that was this mythic place ofrock and candlelight.

In a few hours' time she would become a bride . . . Vincent'sbride.

The sweet, confusing reality of that wonder overcame hermomentarily with a startling flood of emotions almost too intense tobe merely her own. There was joy, surely, deep and welcome, reliefand gratitude as well. But at the same time, there was a hesitantexpectation that was both filled with tender yearning as well asshadowed by fear and uncertainty. She prayed her heart would survivethe day intact. And something told her that Vincent must be feelingthe same way, too.

Gathering the small gift box to her once again, she left the guestchamber for Mary's quarters. There was no putting Fate off anylonger.