This love is & like liquid.
I am drunk on my desire.
But I love the way you smile at me.
I love the way your hands reach out and hold menear.
I believe,
I believe this is heaven to no one else butme.
Sarah McLachlan: 'Elsewhere'
From the album: 'Fumbling Towards Ecstasy'
It was the voices that eventually woke him:hushed tones of worry and fear, the sounds of a quiet argument justoutside his chamber door. 'Why won't they just go away?' Vincentthought in sleepy annoyance. 'Don't they know I'm&?'
He was what? Tired, most certainly, but a verypleasant and replete sort of tired. Comfortable? Extremely so. Happy?Oh, definitely. Happy didn't even come close to describing how hefelt. A blanket of wonder still remained wrapped around his heart.Last night had been a revelation.
Beside him, Catherine shifted with anunintelligible mumble of protest at the intruding voices. Her warm,soft body snuggled backwards to rest against his chest, hips nestlingin the cradle of his own. Vincent felt a heavy stir of arousal at hermovements, and he bent his head to nuzzle her ear, exposed frombeneath her sleep-tousled mane. The soft brown rim of fur along theedge tickled his upper lip deliciously. She was a marvel.
"Vincent? Vincent!" Father's hushed voice spokefrom the other side of the curtained entrance.
Vincent hesitated at the tone of that long-lovedvoice. Reluctantly he noted Father's feelings of concern andfear.
"Vincent, please answer me!"
He lifted his head and drew breath to answer,but stilled as Catherine mumbled again, rolled on her stomach anddragged the pillow over her head. An irrepressible smile curved hislips. Was she always this reluctant to waken? And was she always thiscute in the morning? She wouldn't like that description, he thoughtwith wry amusement. Oh, how he looked forward to finding out! But fornow, she was tired and should sleep. After last night, she deservedit.
Across the pipes the hour notation rang out.Three o'clock? In the afternoon? No wonder Father was concerned; theyhad been cloistered in here since just after evening meal. CautiouslyVincent slid from the warm quilts, taking care not to disturbCatherine's rest. Usually he left his dressing gown beside the bed,but last night such practicalities had eluded him, as did the needfor any sort of sleeping attire. He quietly fetched the garment fromhis armoire and padded across the chamber to slip past the heavycurtain.
"Thank God!" Father's relief was palpable as hewatched his son straighten and turn, tucking the curtain back tocompletely hide the interior of his chamber. That task complete, hisson turned to face Father, noting the worried expression.
"Vincent, is everything& all right? It is solate. I had begun to worry. How is Catherine? Jamie said&"Father's embarrassed concern slid away as he absorbed his son'scondition.
The rough mane was a mess. Under his dressinggown, his normal sleeping attire of fleece pants and thermal shirtwas absent, and the riot of wavy golden fur on his chest spilledunabashedly from the opening of the quilted garment. If eyes could besaid to speak, Vincent's virtually glowed with relaxed contentment.His neck& his throat bore several small bruises, in a patternwhich betrayed their most probable origin. Father cleared his throatin dismay.
"Please, don't be concerned. All is well. We aresimply& rather tired." Noting the direction of Father's gaze,Vincent touched the sore spots on his throat, and lowered his headwith a bashful half smile when remembering how they came about. Itwas the third time& wasn't it? He thought so. Catherine had beenquite& assertive. It had been beyond incredible, beyondanything.
Father observed the unfocused, dazed happinessclearly evident in Vincent's eyes. So, that was the way of it. "Well,then, I'll leave you to your rest. I'm sorry to have disturbedyou".
Vincent's musings were cut short by the sense ofdistressed embarrassment emanating from the older man. Distressand& grief? A feeling of being unneeded?
"Father." Vincent reached out to lay his hand onFather's arm. "It is I who should apologize. I should have realizedhow you would worry, especially after the incident in the dininghall." Vincent stepped forward and swept Father into a warm hug. "I'msorry." This man had been there for him all his life, loving andguiding him for more than thirty years. How could he think he was nolonger needed? Vincent would always need him.
Swiftly Father's arms went around his son'swaist to squeeze tightly.
"Perhaps tomorrow we could spend some time?"Vincent asked quietly. "There is a certain issue of two chess winsthis week which needs to be addressed." Father's relief was like asoothing balm.
"Yes. Perhaps a third would put you in yourplace." Each fought to hide a smile at the patently false confidenceFather displayed. Father stepped back and grasped Vincent's arm, eyesserious. "Tell me, what did happenin the dining hall? William said-"
"I think the whole incident is best forgotten.Catherine and I have resolved certain matters. Circumstanceshave& changed. Suffice it to say I truly believe nothing likethat will occur again." With a gentle squeeze to Father's shoulders,Vincent turned to slip back through the curtain.
Father stood for a moment. From behind thecurtain he caught a muffled feminine inquiry, and the uncommon butwelcome sound of his son's laughter. Indeed, all was well.With a shake of a head and a slight smile, he turned to leave thecouple to their privacy. After all they had been through, no two weremore deserving of happiness.
Vincent had carefully closed the curtain andbegun to sneak back to the bed, when he realized his efforts were invain. One apprehensive eye peered out from beneath a disheveled shockof mane and the wreckage of bedclothes.
"Was that Father? Is anything wrong?" Catherinesat up and ran a hand through her rumpled mane, only succeeding inmaking its condition worse. As she lifted her head to look at him,Vincent couldn't hold back a spurt of laughter at the sight.
While sleeping on her stomach, Catherine hadobviously had her face pushed into the mattress. The fur on her nosewas bent sideways, giving her a ridiculously lopsided look. The neteffect was hilarious& and adorable. And sexy. But then, how couldshe not be alluring to him? Laughter segued into a light masculinerumble of appreciation as his gaze grew heated.
"Ohhh, no, you don't! Don't even start! If Idon't get to the bathroom I'm going to explode!" Scooting to the endof the bed, Catherine jumped out and began desperately hunting forher clothes. Donning the bare necessities, she rushed past him andthrough the curtained doorway with a whimper, leaving Vincentblinking in consternation. None of the romantic literature he hadcontented himself with over the many years had ever touched upon suchinevitable practicalities.
Two figures glided soundlessly through thedarkened corridors. In the later hours, when most of the tunneldwellers slept, many of the lanterns were extinguished in order toconserve fuel. The pair took advantage of the dark shadows as theyapproached the last curve before the dining chamber.
"Vincent," Catherine hissed quietly. "What arewe doing? Is this stealth necessary?"
"No. Not absolutely."
"Then why are we sneaking around?"
"Did you not notice that wonderful smell as westarted in this direction?"
"Yes& William's been baking."
"Yes, and I know that smell. He's made pies for tomorrow's dinner. He gets quiteirate if he finds his work has been enjoyed before the appointedtime. Occasionally, nonetheless, certain of his treats have been&liberated."
Catherine's keen eyes caught the barest twinkleof devilment in Vincent's, washed to a gentle gray by the lack oflighting, before he turned away.
"It's you!Last Winterfest William was complaining about someone stealingsweets. He was sure it was one of the children. You're the thief? Yousneak! Oh, I am appalled!" Catherine almost laughed aloud at this newfacet of her lover's character.
"Appalled? Why? It's not really stealing.Just& taking."
Catherine smothered a snort of laughter. Thelighthearted conversation ceased as they slipped into the diningchamber and through the short tunnel to the kitchen.
Unerringly Vincent made his way to the largewooden cupboard in the corner, and easily shifting the heavy barrelblocking the front, opened the doors to reveal several dozen applepies on shelves.
Catherine giggled helplessly as she felt hisgreedy anticipation. "I can't believe what a sweet tooth you have.You're going to rot the teeth right out of your head!"
"I read something several years ago that becamewords I live by, Catherine. 'Life is short. Eat dessert first'."Carefully, Vincent rearranged the pies on the bottom shelf to hidethe fact that one was missing, closed the cupboard, and resettled theheavy barrel in its former guardian posture. Stopping only to grab afork and steal a quick kiss, he returned to the dining hall to diginto the sweet treat with relish, leaving Catherine to roll her eyesindulgently.
"Just save me a piece, OK?"
"Mummmhh," Vincent mumbled past a mouthful ofpastry as he noticed a copy of the New York Times folded on the seatbeside him.
Leaving Vincent to his ill-gotten gains,Catherine rummaged through the cool room for the makings of a cheesesandwich or three, unable to repress a flutter of happiness. Or wasit a rumble of hunger? Probably both. After she had returned from thenecessary bathroom break, she and Vincent had visited one of thebathing pools. That had been definitely& inspiring. So inspiringin fact, that they had missed evening meal. Again. When they hadfinally come up for air, they had decided to stage a raid on thekitchen. The small can of coffee on the top shelf received adisgusted glare as she finished constructing dinner and left to joinVincent.
"Don't tell me we get newspaper delivery downhere?" Taking the chair beside Vincent, she set the plate ofsandwiches and large glass of milk on the table, and dug in. Her leglightly brushed against his under the table, the physical contactwelcomed and reassuring to both. Glancing beside her, she noted thatover half the pie was gone.
"Not quite. One of our helpers runs a newsstand.He usually sends down a copy of the previous day's Times for Fatherand any other residents to read. We're not totally cut off fromAbove, here. Just a bit behind."
Quiet settled over the couple as they atehungrily. Catherine immediately snitched the front page, whileVincent contented himself with local news and the Arts andEntertainment section. For a moment, Catherine felt a touch ofdisbelief. Was this really happening? To them? After years of movingin circles, and the shocking changes of the last few weeks, couldthis be real? Her and Vincent, sharing a midnight snack and readingthe newspaper, like any other normal couple?
Catherine almost choked on a bite of sandwich atthe sudden gust of shock from Vincent. "What? What is it?"
"It's Joe. Something has happened. Look."Vincent swiftly spread out the local news section in front of themand indicated the photograph of Joe on the second page. It was astock shot, a portrait style picture given to the press for theiruse. But it was the headline below that screamed for attention:
<![if!supportEmptyParas]> <![endif]>
Deputy District Attorney Joseph Maxwell wasbeen reported missing early this morning.
Mr. Maxwell has been directly responsible forthe incarceration of many of this city's worst criminal elements. Atlast report, he was concentrating on a recent series of assaultssuspected to be linked with the black market in human internalorgans.
At present, city police are requesting anyonewho has information that could be pertinent to please contact Sgt.Mike Carlson of the NYPD at 555-5903.
Catherine lifted her head, stunned. "This paperis almost two days old. Maybe they found him. Vincent, I have to findout! I have to know if he's OK."
"Come on,Edie. Pick up the phone!" Catherine stood hunched over the pay phonenear one of the public washrooms in the park. Nearby, hidden inshadow, Vincent stood watch. They'd had to wait for almost half anhour for a local gang to leave the area. This was the only telephonethat wasn't in a wide-open space that still worked.
At first Catherine had thought to go to herapartment, but the newspaper article gave her pause. During the timeof her assault and disappearance over two years ago, and with therecent experience of Spirko, she had learned well just how tenaciousand resourceful reporters could be. If they were looking for Joe,chances are they could be trying to locate her for comment. Involvinga helper was not an option either. They couldn't take the chance thatan innocent party could be dragged into this.
Finally Catherine heard the receiver beinglifted and a muffled, hoarse voice speak. "Hello."
"Edie. It's Cathy. I-"
"Cathy?" Edie's tone sharpened as she came awakefully. "Where the hell have you been, girl?"
"I just heard the news. Have they found Joe?What's going on?"
"He's still missing, and they don't have much togo on. Last phone call he got was from some woman looking for you. Heleft early that afternoon, I think they arranged to meet somewhere.She's missing now, too."
"Do you remember who it was?"
"Yeah, name's Sandra Berringer. Word is sheworked at the hospital where Greg got shot. Listen, Cathy are you OK?You really resigned?"
"Yes, I did. But don't worry, I'm fine. Therewere reasons& I can't talk about it. One more thing, Wednesdaymorning, did Joe put out any kind of surveillance on a vet clinicregarding the organ-snatcher case?"
"Yeah, matter of fact he did. Couldn't figurethat one out at all. Some sort of anonymous tip. Surveillance didn'tnet anything and I think they dropped it." Edie's voice softened withconcern. "Cathy, is there anything I can do? I mean, if you're introuble or really sick or something?"
"Thanks for asking, but no, there's nothing. I'mnot in trouble. This is just something I had to do. I'll let you goback to sleep now. Thanks for the update."
"Wait!" Catherine paused as Edie gathered herthoughts. "Why do I get the feeling I'll never see you again?"
Catherine sighed. This was so hard. "Youprobably won't. I'm sorry. But I won't lose touch, OK?" Withoutwaiting to hear her answer, Catherine softly hung up the phone.
A warm hand descended to her shoulder and gentlypulled Catherine into a comforting embrace. "He's still missing?"
Catherine nodded against Vincent's ridged vest,taking brief comfort in the rub of his cheek against her hair.Squaring her shoulders, she drew a deep breath and straightened."Yes. And so is another woman, a contact I made at the hospital. Ithink I know who took them both. Or at least, who might know where tolook. I have to do something. I have to try. Joe's my friend."
Vincent raised his head and looked across thedark park. He could feel her determination. Again, her loyalty andcourage drew her to danger. But not alone; never again. "Then we mustfind him, together."