MIDNIGHT SNACK

by JoAnn Baca

Catherine absolutely could not get to sleep. An hour ofdetermination had produced nothing but frustration. She was too keyedup from the excitement of spending a rare night Below. The children'sconcert had been lovely, and the late night walk to the Falls withVincent had been wonderful, even romantic, albeit in a subdued andoblique way. Nothing had been "said" -- nothing ever was -- butassumptions were made, and looks had passed between them, and thatalone had kindled her now distracted state of mind. Sleep was not onthe agenda. Maybe a snack would help....

Resolutely, Catherine threw back the covers and groped for hershawl. Rather than light a candle, she dispensed with her slippersafter searching fruitlessly in the dark for them. She skipped lightlyout of the guest chamber and began to make her way to thekitchen.

They had not returned to the home tunnels until quite late --after midnight. The tunnelfolk were of the "early to bed, early torise" philosophy, and so they had encountered no one when theywhispered their reluctant good nights and departed for their separatechambers; the tunnels had been quiet and deserted already. She feltcertain that at this hour she would have the tunnels...and especiallythe kitchen...to herself.

Catherine passed a number of darkened chamber entrances before shecame to the tunnel where Vincent's chamber lay. Unexpectedly, therewas light spilling from his doorway. So he was not asleep. But hemight be getting ready for bed. Or he might be lying under the coversreading. Whatever he was doing, he was certainly not anticipatingunannounced callers at this late hour. For a brief moment shestruggled over what to do, but her practical side held little swaywhere Vincent was concerned. Knowing he was awake, she craved thesight of him.

She padded over to the door and peeped her head around the cornerof his chamber entry. Vincent was lost in thought, head down, makinga journal entry. It was rare that she caught him unaware, but hedidn't seem to realize she was standing there. Catherine took theopportunity to observe him, to marvel at his unconscious, elegantgrace. Illuminated by candlelight, he was a vision of incomparablebeauty, encircled in an aura of hazy incandescence, the amberhighlights of his hair aglow. He took her breath away -- she knew healways would.

"Vincent?"

He looked up at her soft call in surprise, then offered her hisgentle half smile, the one that always melted her heart. "Catherine."The way his husky voice caressed her name made her shiver withdelight and desire. "I didn't hear you come in. When I write in myjournal, I sometimes become so enmeshed in my thoughts, I amoblivious to what is happening around me."

Catherine mentally kicked herself for not realizing that stayingup late like this was a way for him to carve out a small bit ofprivacy in his busy life Below. "I'm sorry, Vincent. I shouldn't havebothered you." She gave him an embarrassed, apologetic smile andturned to leave. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him rise tostop her, and she turned back just as he pleaded, "Don't leave.Please...don't leave."

When he saw she would not go, he sat again and stared at the openjournal before him. Almost to himself he added, "I write to...feelcloser to you...when I cannot be with you. But now that you arehere...." He left the sentence unfinished, but deliberately closedthe journal and recapped his fountain pen, setting both aside.

Despite his obvious acceptance of her presence, Catherine felt shehad to offer an explanation for her sudden appearance in the middleof the night. "I was feeling restless and couldn't sleep, so Idecided to raid William's pantry for some warm milk. When I saw yourlight, I thought I'd invite you along." In a conspiratorial stagewhisper, she added, "We might even score some brownies -- Williamonce told me about his secret hiding place."

His chuckle rumbled deep in his chest at her suggestion, butsurprisingly, he shook his head. "The tunnels are very chilly at thistime of night, Catherine, and I see your toes are already turningblue." He tried unsuccessfully to hide his smile as she responded byrubbing the backs of her toes against her calves in an attempt towarm them. "Rather than the long trek to the kitchen, perhaps I couldoffer you some tea instead? The chamomile you like?"

She smiled and asked, charmed, "Celestial Seasonings? The tea Igave you?"

He nodded. "I save it for...special occasions. Like now.Please...stay and share some with me? If you don't mind missing outon the brownies, that is." At the last comment, his upper lipquivered slightly. He suspected she had invented the intriguingpossibility of brownies just for a chance to spend some time withhim. Tonight, he wanted nothing more than to humor her.

Catherine barely contained her surprise at his unexpected offer,and nodded happily, knowing it gave him pleasure to do even thissmall thing for her. Vincent rose and strode to the brazier to heatthe teakettle. She claimed his chair for herself and sighedcontentedly as she scrunched into it sideways and absorbed the warmthfrom his body lingering in the worn leather. Tucking the hem of hernightgown under her bare toes, she made herself at home, watching asVincent steeped the teabags and poured their tea.

Vincent handed her a steaming mug, and she curled her fingersgratefully around its warmth as she inhaled the fragrant aromacontained within. He reclined on his side on the bed, and they sippedfrom their mugs in companionable silence for a time, watching thesmall fire in the brazier as it crackled merrily. Finally, Vincentasked, "Are you still cold, Catherine?"

Enigmatically, she replied, "I'm never cold when I'm with you."The remark seemed to disconcert him though and, anxious to reclaimthe ease between them, she changed the subject. "Why couldn't yousleep, Vincent?"

At first she thought he might not answer, but finally he spoke,and his voice was low and soft as he replied. "I find it...difficultto sleep...when you are Below, Catherine."

She was immediately abashed, and her consternation was apparent asshe responded. "Oh, Vincent. I'm sorry! You have so many cares andburdens, and here I'm...thoughtlessly compounding them by keeping youfrom your rest. Why didn't you say something before?" She set her mugon the table and swung her legs down until she was sitting at theedge of the chair. "If you like...I could go back Above right now. Iwouldn't mind...if you would sleep better."

He regarded her thoughtfully for a long moment, then dropped hiseyes as if making a shameful revelation. "No...I would not like youto go back Above, Catherine. That is the last thing I would like.It..." He paused for so long, Catherine was unsure whether he meantto finish his thought. "It...comforts me greatly when you are...closeby. I would rather stay awake and...relish the closeness for as longas you are here." He raised his eyes finally and gazed into hers,willing her to understand all he could not yet say. "Lost sleep I canmake up, Catherine, on the many, many nights when you arenot...Below."

Catherine pondered this disclosure. Should she probe further? Hisunexpected frankness emboldened her response. "Perhaps,Vincent...perhaps...if I were here more often...it wouldn't seemso...unusual...and you could sleep, knowing I would be here again thenext night...and the next."

Slowly, Vincent rose and knelt beside her. His solemn blue eyesheld hers bound in thrall. He reached for her hands, and gentlyclasped them between his own. "Would you, Catherine? Wouldyou...stay...if I asked you?"

"I would do anything for you, Vincent. But it would not be anentirely selfless act. Being close to you...always...is my heart'sgreatest desire."

"Then...stay. Please...stay."

"Vincent...what are you asking of me? Is it to stay Below? Or tostay Below...with you?"

"Does it make a difference?"

"Perhaps not...I won't know for sure until you answer."

He rose and turned away from her then, and Catherine's heartplunged. To come this close...only to turn from the brink! Silently,she urged him to take the chance she offered him.

"Catherine...I have...no right to ask...that."

"I'm giving you that right."

The silence grew lengthy, the only sound in the room thesputtering of the brazier. She knew the war being waged within hisheart was tearing him apart, and she longed to ease the torment. Butthis was one decision he must come to alone. He must be sure. He mustwant it badly enough to reach for it, to claim it for himself. Timeseemed to hang upon heartbeats. After an agonizing interval, Vincentsighed deeply, a shuddering almost-groan which gave no clue of thedecision he had reached. Catherine hadn't realized she'd been holdingher breath, but she released it slowly now, steeling herself for whatmight come.

"I...I...would ask you to stay...with me." Vincent's heartshuddered and skipped from the force of his audacious entreaty. Heturned back, anxious to see her reaction. The face he encountered waslifted to his, and was filled with joy and wonder. He never knewwhere he had found the courage to speak the words which would bindthem forever, but he was grateful for the reservoir of hiddenstrength which summoned it.

Catherine rose from the chair and moved toward him. "Yes! Yes,I'll stay. Always, Vincent." Vincent stretched out his arms to hisbeloved.

The embrace was shattering in its intensity. They melted into eachother, pressing close everywhere, merging their separateness. Allbarriers between them dropped, and they held each other for the firsttime...as lovers.

Catherine was the first to pull away, although she did not forsakehis arms entirely. "It's very late, Vincent. If I stay...do you thinkyou could sleep?" Her enchanting smile was rewarded with the gentlestof kisses, as Vincent brushed his lips lightly against hers. It wassuch an exquisite bliss, he had to kiss her again, with a tremblingexhilaration that caused her heart to flutter. He couldn't stop justyet, and so he tasted her sweet mouth once more, then drew a shakybreath and said, "I will try, my Catherine...but I cannot promise Iwill. I can only promise...." His mouth again reached hungrily forhers, and his unspoken promise was fulfilled.