The Rest of Their Lives

by Ginny Shearin

Catherine had been there for a little more thanthree weeks - ever since they had brought Vincent back from thatdistant cavern. He had obviously been self destructive, though noneof them could know exactly what had happened. His clothes were torn,his hands and chest were cut and bruised, his face was scratched, hishair was wild and matted...The roaring and snarling had been trulyfrightening, leaving Father and the others torn between their fearfor Vincent and their fear for themselves. They had sent forCatherine and Peter, and they had come.

As always, trusting him completely, Catherine hadgone into the cave with Vincent to try to reach him; but for thefirst time since she had known him, he didn't respond to her. Just asit looked as if he might actually hurt her, he stopped, seemed tohave a short moment of lucidity, then collapsed. She had screamed hisname and then screamed for Father to help him. That was how theothers had found him, Catherine holding his head in her lap andcrying. He didn't appear to be alive at first. She looked up atFather frantic and afraid; but she didn't feel completelydisconnected from Vincent, so she refused to give up hope.

Father and Peter took over, seeing that he wastransported back to his chamber as gently as possible and providingall the medical attention they knew how to provide for his unusualphysiology. They had finally found faint signs of life, but he hadn'tmoved at all for several days; so all that remained to do was to waitand hope. Mary had come to help; and they had carefully cleaned hiswounds, bathed him, and dressed him in a soft loose nightshirt. Therewas an IV pumping minimal sustenance into his nearly lifeless form,and a catheter ushering away its remains. His bed had been moved toallow easy access from either side, the IV stand and other tools ofthe medical trade on the side near the wall under the stained glasswindow.

Since he was old enough to fully realize thedifferences between himself and others, Vincent had conscientiouslyrefrained from exposing any more of his physical differences thannecessary. They had brought him to his own bed rather than thehospital chamber to offer him the dignity of privacy, and to offerthe others the comfort of safety in the unlikely event of anotherviolent episode.

While Father and Peter and Mary did their best forVincent, Catherine had stayed out of the way; but she wasn't about tobe left out when it came to waiting and hoping.

She stubbornly refused to leave except when theyexamined him or bathed him. As many times as she had wished to seethose massive shoulders and more uncovered, she knew he had nointention of allowing it yet; and she wouldn't compromise his wisheswhen he had no say in the matter. During those times she would takecare of some of the few needs she had for herself, other than beingwith Vincent.

Some of the tunnel dwellers would periodicallygather near Vincent's door, hoping for a word of encouragement abouthis condition; and they often saw the need for concern aboutCatherine as well. One of them might insist that she eat, or that shego to her virtually unused guest chamber for a change of clothes or ashort rest. Sometimes she would search Father's library for readingmaterial. For the other approximately twenty-three hours of the dayshe was next to Vincent's bed. She read to him, talked to him, heldhis hand - carefully at first, because of his wounds - stroked hischeek and forehead... When she fell asleep, it was in the chair withher head on the bed beside him or sitting on the side of the bed withher head on his chest, always with one arm stretched across him. Ifhe moved or woke, she wanted to be there to know.

For nearly a week there was no movement at all,then the restlessness began. He thrashed around in his sleep,muttered unintelligible, argumentative, anguished sounds, appearingto suffer through endless nightmares. He seemed almost constantlytormented. Catherine's touch and her voice soothed him temporarily;but even with that, he was restless. During the most frightful timesshe simply stretched out on the quilt beside him and held him as shehad during his illness in her apartment, whispering soothingly to himuntil the worst of the attack had passed. Father said nothing,because even he could see that she gave his son at least temporaryrelief from his continual suffering. Almost two weeks passed thisway; then as suddenly as it had started, the restless tormentsubsided and the frightening stillness returned. For several days theonly movement they detected was the slow, steady rise and fall of hischest. The slight sound of his breathing was their only source ofcomfort and hope.

Peter had begun to worry nearly as much aboutCatherine as he did about Vincent.

Father was too worried about Vincent to be quiteas aware of her exhaustion. On the third day of that frighteningstillness, Father hesitantly asked if she could feel anything throughtheir bond, any suggestion of a change in Vincent's condition, anyhint of a return to consciousness.

She considered her answer carefully, both of themknowing that her side of their connection wasn't nearly as strong asVincent's.

"No change, Father," she answered wearily. "Heisn't really with us; but he doesn't seem to be leaving us, either. Idon't know why it feels this way, but it's as if he has a decision tomake and hasn't made it yet."

"Dear God," Father breathed, as much to himself asto anyone else, "Please let him make the right decision."

Catherine again picked up GreatExpectations, opened it to the marked page, and began to read. Ithad made a difference in her recovery. Maybe it would help him,too.

Peter tried to talk his old friend into gettingsome rest, but Jacob was as stubborn as Catherine.

Father found a small chest to prop his feet on andsat down in the large chair at Vincent's writing desk. He hung hiscane on the arm of the chair and alternately watched Vincent, dozed,and listened to Catherine read. He silently reprimanded himself forhis earlier opinions of Catherine's intentions and suitability forhis son. She was unmistakably devoted to Vincent, and Father had cometo love her, too. There was no doubt about Vincent's feelings forher. Despite his continuing misgivings about the wisdom of theirrelationship, he had to admit to a great respect and a certain degreeof awe at the kind of love they shared. He had never seen Vincent sohappy, nor sometimes, so distressed; and his suspicions were thatthis illness, madness, whatever it was, might, at least in part, havesomething to do with their relationship.

Catherine was reading and holding Vincent's handwhen she felt a subtle stirring as he shifted almost imperceptibly inthe bed. She stopped reading, waiting for some other indication thatit hadn't been her imagination, hoping that there might be...There itwas again. His hand had moved very slightly in hers.

"Vincent!" She whispered excitedly. Her handreached for his cheek as she stood and leaned closer over the bed,repeating his name a little louder and looking for any kind ofresponse to her voice.

Peter returned just as Catherine stood and leanedtoward Vincent. He nearly dropped the dinner tray he had brought forthem when Father fairly flew from the chair, brushing past Peter toreach his son. Peter deposited the tray on the desk and quicklyjoined them. This time Catherine couldn't make herself leave. Shejust stood back hopefully, seeing that she wasn't interfering withtheir efforts.

"Well?" asked Catherine impatiently after the twodoctors had looked and listened for what seemed to her aneternity.

"Not much to tell," Peter answered, "but hisbreathing isn't quite as shallow and his heartbeat seems a littlestronger."

"That's a good sign, isn't it?" she nearlypleaded.

Father put an arm around her shoulder and kissedher forehead, finally seeing that she was as spent as he. He had toadmit she was a remarkable young woman.

"At this point, Catherine," he answered, "anythingis a good sign; but this, I'm afraid, is a small one. His physicalwounds are healing quite nicely, amazingly well under thecircumstances; but I think you and I both suspect that the state he'sin has little to do with physical wounds."

Catherine looked down, not able to meet the olderman's eyes right now. She knew he blamed her. She blamedherself.

Father instantly regretted his remark. It had beensaid very matter-of-factly, a statement of his thoughts. It had notbeen meant to be unkind, especially spoken when she was obviously sotired and frightened. He stroked her hair as he would to comfort oneof the children and used his best parental tone on her.

"You look exhausted, dear. Perhaps you should takea break and have some dinner."

"No, Father," she responded. "Maybelater."

With a deep sigh she sat down and picked up thebook, slipped her hand under Vincent's, squeezed it firmly and beganto read.

Father shook his head in resignation, sat backdown, and poured himself a cup of the warm tea.

"Catherine?" he called, holding the cup up tooffer it to her.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye and shookher head, never looking up and never missing a word.

Peter was sleeping in Father's chamber next door.Several times during the night Catherine detected other vaguefeelings that Vincent had stirred slightly. When it happened, shewould kiss his hand or hold it a little tighter, and keep reading.She wasn't going to say anything to Father. He had finally falleninto a real sleep in the chair, and she didn't want to disturb himunless there was something a little more substantial to report. Ifanything important happened she wanted him to be alert enough to givehis son the best of care. For that he needed rest, a luxury he hadn'tallowed himself much of lately. She was grateful that Peter was therefor back up.

Catherine had read to Vincent all night, so tiredthat, until the last few pages, she was barely aware that she wasabout to finish the book. When she read the last line, she closed thebook and placed it on the small table beside his bed.

"Vincent?" she called softly, pulling the chairnearer to the bed.

Leaning closer to him she took his hand in one ofhers and placed her other hand on his chest.

"Please come back to me, Vincent. I needyou."

No response. Tears rolling quietly down hercheeks, she released his hand and moved into a now familiar position,her head resting on the bed and her arm sliding across his chest.Eventually she fell asleep.

She woke with a start. Had she been dreaming, ordid he really make a sound? She looked at Father. Surely he wouldhave heard. No, he was still dozing in the chair. She had seenVincent injured or drugged or ill before, but he had always retainedenough of his strength to point to belief in his recovery. Seeing himthis still and lifeless for so long had made hope moredifficult.

Then she heard it - a small groan accompanied by avery slight shifting of position.

"Vincent!" Can you hear me?" shecalled.

Father was almost immediately at her side,fighting the sleep from his eyes and asking what hadhappened.

"A sound, Father...sort of a groan... and he moveda little."

Father checked Vincent's eyes and pulse, then hereached for his stethoscope and listened. For the first time sinceVincent's illness he looked a little hopeful.

"His heart sounds stronger and his breathing isnearly normal; but that, I fear, is about all I canoffer."

"But that must be good," she insisted, trying tocoax some words of encouragement out of him.

"Yes, I think that's good," he agreed. "We justcan't know how good for the time being."

Vincent voiced another small groan and movedagain. Catherine stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers andlooked up at Father. They both smiled for the first time indays.

Again, in his best parental tone, Father suggestedthat Catherine have something to eat. Again she refused, afraidVincent would wake without her presence. She needed a break, and thefood still on the tray from last night indicated to Father that shehadn't bothered with dinner. Well rested at last, he braced himselffor the inevitable argument that would likely follow and insistedthat Catherine have some breakfast and take at least a few minutesfor her own needs.

"I don't know where you find your strength,Catherine. We are all truly impressed by your stamina, but everyonehas limits. What will you do if..." He stopped and corrected histerminology. "What will you do when he does awake? Say his name andimmediately collapse across him so he can begin to worry about you?Waking to find you in such a state would concern him more than hisown health." With a heavy sigh, he continued, "Then he wouldundoubtedly blame Peter and me for not taking better care of you..."Lifting her chin with his hand and looking at her with a pretense ofseriousness, he went on. "You know, don't you, that this could easilytake an ugly turn if you aren't in better condition than this when hesees you."

She smiled, knowing he was right, but reluctant tolet Vincent out of her sight. The fact that Father had inserted somelevity into his argument meant that he must feel more hopeful aboutVincent's recovery.

"On a more serious note," Father persisted,lowering his hand to her shoulder, "Some of Vincent's recovery couldvery well depend on your support, and right now you look as if youcan barely support yourself. Peter and I will take this time toattend to his needs. We'll dress his wounds and have him examined andin clean clothes by the time you return."

With a slight twinkle in his eye, he added, "Andhow do I say this delicately...? You could do with a little sprucingup yourself. Everyone knows that Vincent wouldn't care how you look,but is this the image you would have him wake to?"

There it was - argument complete. He smiled andcongratulated himself on his success when Catherine threw her untidyself at him, hugged him, and kissed his cheek.

"Alright Father, you win. Vincent andvanity...strong arguments."

She walked to the bed and brushed a kiss onVincent's forehead. Father wondered if she would have allowed herselfthat kiss if he had been awake.

She lingered for one more look, touched hisshoulder gently, and then pulled herself away. It would be easier toface the others in the dining hall with even this thin sliver ofhope.

Catherine managed to hold on to her composure andeat breakfast while answering the numerous concerned inhabitants ofVincent's world. When Mary had the opportunity, she managed to spirita grateful Catherine away to a warm bath, the first one she'd had indays where she could completely submerge in the water. Mary had lefther alone with instructions to relax and take her time, promisingthat she wouldn't be interrupted. She knew she had some time beforeshe would be allowed back in Vincent's chamber, so she grantedherself a few extra minutes of indulgence. It was heavenly. Between areal meal and a real bath, she felt rejuvenated, and much closer topresentable. She changed into clean clothes, used the soft, well worntowels to dry her hair, and brushed it into the best semblance oforder she could manage without a hair dryer. After a quick trip tothank Mary for being so thoughtful, she returned impatiently to bewith Vincent.

"Has there been any change, Father?" sheasked.

"Nothing to speak of."

"Well, I am now well fed and clean; and I shouldwarn you that getting rid of me again will take much more effort thanthe last time."

With that announcement she gave him anotherappreciative kiss on the cheek, plopped down in the chair next toVincent, and returned to her vigil.

Father smiled indulgently, shook his head, andreturned to his own.

During the day Vincent's movements graduallyincreased, and finally, early in the afternoon, he opened his eyes.Father had been close by and saw him first.

"Vincent, do you hear me?" he asked.

"Catherine?" Vincent whispered.

"Nice to see you, too, Son," Father chuckled,patting his cheek. Turning to Catherine, who was already at his side,he said, "I'll get Peter. I'm sure Vincent will be content with yourcompany for a few moments."

"I'm here, Vincent. I've been waiting for weeks tosee those beautiful blue eyes again," she said tenderly, tears ofrelief falling as she spoke. She sat on the edge of the bed andrested her hand on his shoulder. "It was as if a part of me wasfighting for life, too."

Father and Peter returned to the chamber quicklyand moved into action around Vincent's bed. Catherine again moved outof the way, but not out of the room. She had no intention of missingany new developments.

"Can you understand what we're saying?" Fatherasked him, checking his vital signs as he spoke.

"Yes."

"How many fingers do you see?" Peter asked,smiling.

"Two," Vincent whispered.

"Do you feel pain anywhere?" Fatherquestioned.

"No."

"Can you move?" Father continued.

"Not sure."

Seeing very slight movement of hands and feetwhile they spoke, Father decided not to worry about that for the timebeing. He and Peter continued to check all the signs they needed tomonitor while Catherine waited impatiently. Meanwhile Vincent closedhis eyes and fell asleep again. Frightened, Catherine rushed to thebed.

"Father. Is he still..."

"He just fell asleep, dear. Don't worry too much.He seems to be gaining some strength."

He put his arm around her, and she gratefullyrested her head on his shoulder, accepting the comfort.

For the rest of the afternoon Vincent drifted inand out of sleep. When he finally seemed to be awake, he wasobviously too weak to expect much in the way of communication. Theycarefully phrased questions to allow him to answer in very fewsyllables. Both times he woke later in the evening, he seemed moreaware of his surroundings and a little more able tocommunicate.

Early in the morning he was able to string a fewwords together, but it was obviously difficult. Catherine still satnext to him, quiet while he slept, talking to him when he wasresponsive, but continually touching his hand or his arm to comforthim and reassure herself. By the middle of the day he was much moreresponsive, but still very weak. Mary had brought lunch for Catherineand broth for Vincent, and Catherine insisted on feeding him. Fatherand Peter propped him on the pillows to make it easier for her, thenleft the room and moved next door to Father's chamber to giveCatherine some time alone with a now awake Vincent. They would beclose enough to be back on a moment's notice if needed, but farenough away to allow the two younger people a littleprivacy.

As she fed him the broth she was remembering herown recovery after he found her in the park. She hoped her presencewas providing him the same comfort he had given her, even under thosebleak circumstances. When the broth was finished, Catherine put theempty bowl on a small table close by and sat down on the bed besideVincent, resting her hand beside him.

He placed his hand over hers.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Catherine lifted Vincent's hand, softly kissed theback of his fingers, and asked if he would like her to read to him.Hearing a quiet "Yes," she held up a book and asked,"Sonnets?"

When Vincent showed approval with a slight nod,she made herself comfortable on the side of the bed, opened the bookand started to read Shakespeare's sonnets at random. Eventuallyturning to Sonnet 71, she continued to read, slowing and hesitatingat the end.

Tired with all these for restless death Icry,

As to behold desert a beggar born,

And needy nothing trimmed in jollity,

And purest faith unhappily forsworn,

And gilded honour shamefully misplaced,

And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,

And right perfection wrongfullydisgraced,

And strength by limping sway disabled,

And art made tongue-tied by authority,

And folly (doctor-like) controllingskill,

And simple truth miscalled simplicity,

And captive good attending captain ill.

Tired with all these, from these would I begone,

Save that to die, I leave my lovealone.

That last line had hit a little too close to home,and before she could stop them, tears were again rolling down hercheeks. She hadn't meant to do that. He was more aware now, and shewanted him calm and healing. She didn't want to do anything to upsethim, but it was too late. She put the book down, covered his handwith both of her own, and tried to talk through her tears.

"I was so afraid. You were so still and lifeless.I was really afraid I would lose you."

Vincent squeezed her hand very slightly, lookingpast her as he spoke. "Perhaps it would have been better for you ifyou had..." he barely more than whispered. Obviously laboring to sayit, he added to that statement. "Then your conscience...would allowyou a normal life...with a man... who can give you what youdeserve."

Catherine stared at him in disbelief and stoodsuddenly, snatching her hand away from his, then exploded athim.

"Vincent, I have never been so angry with you!Where does this obsession to send me off to find another man comefrom?!"

Peter and Father came rushing in from thepassageway. "Catherine!" Father called as he hobbled rapidly towardher.

"For the love of God, he's been conscious lessthan a full day! What hap..."

"That's right, Father!" she retorted in hisdirection, her eyes flaring. "He's been conscious less than a fullday. We've been here for weeks, out of our minds with worry that youmight not be able to save him; and the first complete sentence I hearfrom his lips is to tell me that I would be better off if he had died- that it would leave me free to find another man and a normal life.He's going to hear this before he comes up with any other equallystupid ideas."

Peter grabbed Father's arm when he started toprotest.

"Let her go, Jacob. She'll know if she's causinghim any harm, and she'll stop. Let her get this out. She's earnedit."

Jacob unwillingly backed up, but not too far, asCatherine turned her anger back to Vincent.

Vincent rested stoically against the pillows withhis eyes closed.

"How dare you suggest it might be better for me ifyou just drift off into the afterlife and leave me here to go onwithout you. That would be a lot easier for you than staying andfacing our problems, wouldn't it? How could a man as intelligent asyou..."

"Catherine," he opened his eyes and strained tointerrupt, "If I were a man...we would have no problems."

"Fine!" she shot back, "A beast as intelligent asyou. However you choose to see yourself." Immediately regretting herwords, she calmed slightly, but without compromising her anger. Tearswere pooling in her eyes again and beginning to slip down her cheeks."I don't know how a being as intelligent as you could thinksuch a thing. I know plenty of good men who would be fine husbandsand fathers, but I don't want them. Can't you see that it wouldn't befair to either of us? He would expect me to love him completely,which I could never do; and I would be looking for the kind of loveyou give me, and a bond between us. No one else can give me thosethings. I can live without my world or parties and theaters, I canlive without money or travel, I can live without sunlight, I cancertainly live without the DA's office, I can live without children...or without making love to you if that's a deciding factor in yourmind. What I can't live without, Vincent, is you."

She thought Father was probably nearing apoplexyat this point, but she couldn't stop now.

Peter and Father looked at each other, bothfeeling like intruders into this particular communication...wishingthey could leave the room, but not daring to go.

Her mood softened a little more and she reachedfor him again, stroking the back of his hand.

"All of us know that you could still will yourselfto live or die. But know this, Vincent. If you choose to die, I willbe here in your life until one of us draws a final breath. And if youchoose to live... I will still be here in your life until one of usdraws a final breath. Know this, too, Vincent. If you die, you won'tbe leaving me available for someone else and a normal life. You willonly be leaving me alone. You said once that we're on a journey thatno one has made before, that we must go with courage and withcare."

She sat on the bed beside him, raised his hand toher lips and kissed it, all the emotional upheaval of the last weeksfinally taking its toll. She fell across his chest and threw her armsaround his neck, sobbing.

"I can't make that journey by myself, Vincent.Please don't leave me alone. I love you." Her voice drifted off intoher tears. " I love you... I love you so much..."

With immense effort, Vincent lifted one arm to hisshoulder, taking Catherine's forearm in his hand.

"You won't be alone, Catherine...You have mypromise."

Father and Peter had tears in their own eyes aswell. Peter checked Vincent briefly, and he seemed stable for thetime being, in spite of being thoroughly berated by his beloved.Vincent and Catherine each clearly needed the comfort of the otherright now. Peter all but dragged Jacob to his study for some tea tocalm him down, the thought crossing his mind that something strongermight be in order.

"She meant what she said, Jacob. I doubt that shecould have made a stronger commitment if there had been a church anda preacher. She's never leaving Vincent's life voluntarily; so youmight as well accept that she's going to be a part of yours, too -and a formidable opponent if the two of you disagree on what may bein Vincent's best interest."

Father sat at his desk, his forehead resting onhis hands in resignation.

"I know," he answered wearily. "Iknow."

By the time the two older men had returned toVincent's chamber, Catherine had made a decision she knew Fatherwould hate; but she had every intention of simply stating that itwould happen and implementing her plans.

She waited another several days to be sure thatVincent's condition was stable enough that the doctors felt confidentabout his eventual recovery. She braced herself for resistance andannounced to them that she would require a cot to be brought toVincent's chamber for her and that her things should be brought fromthe guest chamber, because she would be taking over the mundane partsof Vincent's care. The doctors would be given hours for regularrounds and visits; and barring some medical emergency, of which shewould apprise them immediately, they were to stick to those hours.They would help Vincent bathe and dress and take care of similarpersonal necessities. She would gladly do those things, but Vincentwould not be comfortable allowing her to do those things now. Shewould see to any other needs.

She completed her demands by saying, "I promisedVincent I would always be in his life. If I'm really going to be apart of his life, he has to learn to accept my care when he needs it.As much as it pains me to think it, there will come a time when youcan't care for him any longer. I need to be able to do that, and heneeds to come to terms with allowing it."

It was abundantly clear that Vincent would have nosay in the matter either, and he was still much too weak to doanything about it.

Father, as expected, had launched into whatthreatened to be an endless list of reasons that this would be a veryundesirable idea.

Peter took Jacob's elbow and turned him slightlyaway from Catherine.

"Jacob, you've watched her for weeks never leavinghis side, any change in his condition even waking her from sleep. Shehasn't just been observing. She's been sending him her love, sharingher strength until she barely has any of her own. Why would herawareness change now? Vincent has always been his own physician to acertain extent. You know we can't do much more than monitor now. Hiswounds are nearly healed, and you said yourself you suspected thathis illness had little to do with physical damage. She risked her ownlife going into that cave with him in the condition he was in. Herintervention could very well be the only reason you still have him atall. Maybe this is what he needs... Besides that," he pointed outwith some amusement; "she's recently talked your son back through thedoors of death. Do you really want to take her on?"

Catherine simply stood by with arms folded and anair of determination that could have rivaled Moses at the RedSea.

Out flanked and out argued, Father turned andgruffly waved his hand at them as he left. "I'll see to the cot andhave Jamie move things from the guest chamber. No doubt she'd lovethe excuse to see Vincent for a minute."

Jacob was not a happy man.

Catherine was given orders that any more"discussions" such as the tirade she threw at Vincent earlier wouldbe grounds for banishment to the guest chamber and only short,supervised visits - otherwise, her demands would be met.

A large dressing screen was placed at the door ofVincent's chamber both to ward off well-meaning visitors and toremind Father of his appointed hours. Catherine was taking bettercare of herself now. Sometimes when Vincent slept, she slept, too.She pulled the cot up close to his bed and slept with one hand onVincent's arm. That small contact made her feel more connected. Forsome reason her side of their bond had seemed slightly strongerthrough his illness; and she knew, as small as her side of it mightbe, it would tell her if anything were wrong. Vincent was still tooweak to take care of himself and still slept a large part of the day.When he was awake Catherine brought him books, helped him prophimself on the pillows to listen as she read them, fed him hismeals... His ability to heal was amazing. The wounds he had createdin the cave were nearly invisible already. She noticed that the knifewound on his palm from a couple of months ago no longer showed ascar, not even a red mark; and she found herself wishing he couldmanage to heal his spirit as efficiently.

Each time Vincent slept, she could see him wake alittle stronger. For the first few days she had touched him as shehelped him move, having him lean on her for support. She enjoyed thefeel of touching him with only the one soft layer of shirt betweenthem; but she prudently didn't allow herself to dwell on that aspectof her assistance. Father and Peter, knowing that Vincent wouldeventually be acutely aware of Catherine's presence, saw that he wasclean and dressed in fresh night clothes every day, but they didn'tthink too much about his hair. She could see that it neededattention; so she found his brush, started at the ends where thetouch wouldn't feel quite as intimate, and gradually progressed tothe rest. To her amazement, he allowed it without protest. Too weakto argue, she thought. She decided she must have been controlling herless than altruistic thoughts pretty well. She had wanted for so longto explore that glorious mass of gold that it took all her powers ofself-control to confine her hands to just brushing and smoothing anddetangling. When the hairbrush moved the right way, she did allow hercuriosity a peek at his ears, though. She couldn't help smiling. Theywere very human ears; but, like nearly everything else about him,trimmed with extra hair - just around the upper edges. When shestopped brushing, he settled on the pillows and relaxed into arestful sleep.

After helping him with dinner that evening, shesat curled up next to him and read. They shared stories about thechildren and she gave him messages from friends she had seen while"medical rounds" were in progress, all the while enjoying that he wasallowing her to be so close. He eventually asked for his journal; andwhile Catherine was returning the dinner dishes to the kitchen, hemade the first entry since his illness began.

The following morning Vincent allowed Catherine topour the hot tea, but he insisted on managing the rest of hisbreakfast himself. When he spoke, his voice sounded stronger. Afterbreakfast she stacked the dishes on the tray William had supplied andput them aside to return while Father was with Vincent. Shestraightened her bed, moved it aside, and came back to him tostraighten his.

"Father should be here soon," she said. She satdown on the edge of the bed and put her hand on his chest near hisshoulder, the same way she had in the days before. "Is there anythingyou'd like me to bring you while I'm near the kitchen or Father'slibrary? - Anything you need?"

At the touch of her hand he seemed uncomfortablethis time. He took her hand from his chest and held it in both ofhis.

"You could see if William has more of those applemuffins," he answered, smiling slightly, "and I trust your taste inreading material. Choose something you would enjoy."

Catherine didn't understand the sudden impressionof discomfort at something he had accepted so easily since she hadbeen caring for him; and when he took her hand in his, it was done insuch a loving manner that she began to think she had imagined it.Before she could mention it, Father was calling.

"Good morning, children!" came from the other sideof the screen.

She stood, squeezed Vincent's hand, and movedtoward the door.

"Come in, Father," she called. It warmed her heartto hear him include her as one of his children.

"He must be better this morning," she told Father."I have orders to see if I can score a couple of extra muffins whileI'm out." Turning toward Vincent and picking up the pitcher on thetable next to the bed, she added, "I'll bring a fresh pitcher ofwater, too." Back toward Father she continued, "And I might stop andrummage through your library, if you don't mind."

"Of course not," he answered. "You know thelibrary is always open to you. Take whatever you like."

She tucked a change of clothes under one arm,added the pitcher to the tray, and left for the kitchen.

She walked through the passages smiling andgreeting the people she passed in the halls, enjoying the sense ofbelonging that she had finally begun to feel when she was Below. Thishad become the most comforting place in her life. Nothing Abovebrought her this kind of contentment anymore. That thought hadsurfaced more and more lately.

William made it clear that mealtime hours were tobe respected. The dining area was empty; but the kitchen wasbustling, as usual. Those who had been scheduled for kitchen dutythat day were in various stages of dish washing and food preparation,anticipating the next meal. She knew there were a few things that hadto be kept as staples; but it still amazed Catherine that Williamcould manage to feed so many so well on supplies that he might not besure he has until one of the helpers delivers them. She made a mentalnote to see what she could do about inconspicuously helping some ofthe helpers.

As expected, William grumbled in his gruff fashionabout the muffins. He loved Vincent like a son, though; and Catherineknew if William had it, he would send Vincent anything he wanted. Hefound a few extra muffins and wrapped them in a napkin for her. Healso found a few pieces of fruit and put them all in a small basketwith the muffins.

"If that boy is getting his appetite back, you'dbetter take these, too," he told her.

"I don't remember seeing Vincent eat all that muchat a time," she laughed. "You must be exaggerating."

"That's because when you're here he's too busymooning over you to remember he's hungry," he answered with one ofhis rare real smiles. Wiping his hands on his apron, he added,"Better move along now, before I add you to the dishwashingdetail."

She left the kitchen smiling and went to see ifMary had time to help her arrange for another sit-down-and-soakbath.

Mary was busy sorting laundry, and Catherinevolunteered to help in return for bathing arrangements. Some of itwas Vincent's - the soft, often washed knit shirts and drawstringpants he slept in and a few pairs of heavy socks. No underwear? Sothere was nothing under that sleeping gear but Vincent?

"Watch it, Chandler!" she thought to herself. "Youcertainly can't let him catch you thinking thosethoughts."

To distract herself as she folded clothes, sheasked Mary to tell her about Vincent's childhood. She had picked up afew stories here and there; but according to Mary, he and Devinapparently got into a lot more mischief than one would expect fromseeing Vincent now. Catherine wanted to know small things like hisfavorite toys and desserts and what he liked to eat, what worried himwhen he was small; and Mary was more than glad to share hermemories.

Father was pleased with what he found. Vincenthadn't needed help with his morning meal, and he seemed stronger andmore himself today. His wounds were healed, and his appetite seemedto be nearly normal.

"When Catherine returns, we should try to help youout of bed," Father told him. "Could you manage alone before shereturns?" Vincent asked him.

"We could try." Father answered, "But it would beeasier with two of us to lean on. I'm sure Catherine would considerit part of her nursing duties," he smiled.

Vincent hesitated briefly.

"If I am to be out of bed dressed in as little asthis, I would prefer it to be before Catherine returns."

"I see," Father answered, taking a deep breath."You aren't comfortable having Catherine see you in your nightclothes."

"No," Vincent answered, looking down.

"I'll find your dressing gown for you. You hadbeen so weak...It hadn't occurred to either Peter or me that youmight need it."

Father left his chair and found Vincent's robe. Itwas made of blanket like fabric, soft from frequent use and frequentwashings. He was sure it wouldn't entirely assuage Vincent's presentmodesty dilemma, but it would provide another layer between him andCatherine's comforting touch. It would also provide a little morecover when he worked up the nerve to get out of bed in her presence.He placed it on the foot of the bed and put his hand on Vincent'sshoulder.

"I'll leave your dressing gown close. Maybe thiswill help you feel a little more covered."

"I would still like you help me stand now...please," Vincent nearly begged.

"Alright, but we'll need to take things slowly.Let me move the chair closer to you. You can use it for support anduse me for balance."

Vincent pushed the covers back and, with greateffort, pulled himself up on his feet.

"Don't try to do too much this time. Wait untilyou have someone stronger than your old father to help you walk alittle."

Vincent took a few steps, bracing himself on thechair; but he was willingly back in bed rather quickly. It wasfrustrating being that weak. He refused Father's suggestion that hesit in the chair for a while.

It was obvious that something was bothering hisson.

"Vincent, is there a problem between you andCatherine?"

"Not exactly," Vincent answered,quietly.

"Then exactly what? Is something lacking in yourcare, something she isn't doing suitably?" Father questioned."Something is bothering you. Is there anything I can do? Would youlike to talk about it?"

"I couldn't ask for better care, or for it to begiven more lovingly; and until today I had no difficulty acceptingit. Last evening after dinner she even brushed my hair. She sat closeto me, and we read together and talked for a while before sleeping.She sleeps in her own bed, but moves it next to mine; and her hand istouching my arm any time I wake. I have trouble imagining that Iaccepted it so easily. It was all very comforting. That was thespirit in which her touch was given and in which it was received. Butthis morning..." he took a deep breath. "This morning she put herhand on my chest, offering only the same comfort and concern; but itfelt different. I was suddenly aware of how I am dressed... or notdressed... and how close her hand was..."

"I see," Father answered, running his hand acrosshis hair as he often did when he was perplexed, or maybe a littleuncomfortable. "My suspicion is that your feelings have changedbecause you're stronger this morning and more aware of them. Yourbody is recovering and responding more to...your surroundings," hesmiled. "I can certainly commiserate with you;" he said, shaking hishead, "but this... This, I'm afraid, is something you and Catherinewill have to work out between you. I don't know how much you rememberof the last few weeks, but it was all Peter and I could do to pullher away from you to take care of even the most basic of her ownneeds. As for her touch, it was with you most of the day. When thenightmares were at their worst, she would lie down behind you to holdyou and whisper to you until you were calm again. That was the onlything that seemed to help. She slept in the chair beside you orsitting on the side of the bed with her arm draped across you. It wasas if she thought you might slip away if she let go. That may be adifficult habit to break at this point."

"It's difficult enough that I have these feelingsfor her;" Vincent answered, "but when it seems that she might want meas well... and she's so close... She tries to hide those feelingsfrom me, but now and then they surface just for a moment... And shecan't control her dreams for me. Even as far away as her apartment,when she has those dreams, I...I don't sleep. Looking down, he saidsoftly, "If she should have those dreams...here in thisroom..."

"She shouldn't have to hide those feelings fromsomeone she loves!" Vincent said bitterly, leaning his head backagainst the pillows. "She deserves better than that! She should havesomeone..."

Father cut him off in mid-sentence, a mischievoussmile twitching at the corners of his lips in spite ofhimself.

"My boy, I would not broach that particularsubject to Catherine right now if I were you!"

"Yes, Father," Vincent replied wryly. "I doremember that part of the last few weeks rather clearly."

Father responded with a knowing chuckle, thenbecame more serious.

"Now and then we all have to reevaluate ourperceptions. My visible discontent with your Catherine has been oneof my greatest regrets, especially lately. Peter is well aware thathe is the only person Catherine really has 'on her side of theriver,' and he takes that obligation to her very seriously. At timeswhen I might doubt her or even blame her, he points out things I havetemporarily forgotten to consider. He reminds me of things like thesacrifices she willingly makes to be a part of your life, a part ofour lives, and the risks and inconveniences she has been willing toaccept in her life Above to protect you and our community. I have toadmit that I've been wrong. My perceptions have changed. Perhaps it'stime you changed some of yours. As surprised as I am to hear myselfsay this, both of you want a life together; and it's time you havesome long and very honest discussions about it. Catherine certainlyseems committed to your future, and futures can last for a long time.The two of you need to come to some understandings."

"I know. It's long overdue." Vincent was lookingdown again, reluctant to admit the stark truth of his father'sstatement. "I think we avoid it because the obstacles sometimes seemlarger than the possibilities; and we're afraid of losing thedream."

"Are you sure it isn't you who is afraid?" Fatherasked kindly, placing his hand on Vincent's arm. "After watchingCatherine for the last weeks, I believe her to be willing to reachany compromise it takes to hold on to your dream. She promised youthat she would be with you for the rest of her life. You promisedthat she would not be alone. Where do you go from there? It may betime for you to put more of your thoughts into words for her. Youhave the advantage of the strong side of your bond. She has no suchvantage point into your mind. Tell her how you feel. Make herunderstand."

He took a deep breath. "Use the time you have withher wisely." Picking up his medical bag to leave, he added with asmile, "Don't let her get away from us. It's nice to have two sons,but I'm finding that a daughter is also a great joy."

"Catherine enjoyed hearing you greet both of us asyour children. I felt it," Vincent told him.

"It warms my heart as well," Father smiled. Hekissed the top of Vincent's head. "I'll check on you this afternoon.I need to see two of the children who seemed to be on the verge ofthe flu yesterday." He left feeling rather helpless and verysympathetic toward his son.

Catherine had the basket from the kitchen stackedatop the laundry she had folded for Vincent; her dirty clothes wereunder one arm, and the pitcher of water was in the other hand. Sheleft the pitcher just inside Vincent's chamber door, and she was nowapproaching Father's library to find a few more books to keep Vincentoccupied. He was beginning to sleep a little less each day, and sheknew it wouldn't be long before he would be restless being confinedto his chamber. She found a book of art prints and a book on theBritish Isles with color photographs of places she had seen; anddeciding that something romantic at this close range might not be thebest of ideas, she took a Dickens novel and a couple of mysteries.She should be able to find reasonable distraction there. Balancingeverything carefully, she went back to Vincent's chamber.

She triumphantly announced the arrival of themuffins and the added bonus of the fruit and enlisted Vincent's helpin unstacking her treasures. She placed the books she had chosen onthe bedside table for his approval and left the basket on the bed.Seeing the robe on the chair, she immediately understood his responseto her touch that morning. He was now well enough to remember to beuncomfortable without the armor of his normal several layers betweenthem. She tried not to let him feel her disappointment.

"Father found your robe for you. Were you cold? Ican help you put it on if you'd like."

Knowing that she was trying to make the situationeasier for him; Vincent appreciatively accepted her help. He feltmuch better knowing that her hand would encounter a little moreshielding when offering its loving comfort.

"Mary was finishing some laundry when I foundher," she told him, picking up his night clothes, "so I folded thesefor you. If you'll tell me where you keep them, I'll put themaway."

"Catherine," he sort of stammered, " There was noneed for you to do that. Mary would have brought those things to melater."

Again, she realized she had stepped beyond hisbarriers. To her these were socks, knit shirts, and something akin tosweatpants. To Vincent they were pajamas. She had been folding thethings he wore in bed, things that touched parts of him that...well,a thought too intimate to be acceptable to him, especially when theywere in such close quarters.

"Do you intend to allow me in your life as long asI intend to stay there?" she asked him softly.

"Could you really doubt that I do?" he asked, ahint of reprimand in his voice. "Then we have to be comfortabletogether," she answered firmly. "You have to accept that I intend totake care of you. That includes folding your clothes and a host ofother little things you aren't used to having me do. If I spend mylife with you, I don't expect to be relegated to a guest chamberforever, either. Sooner or later you may need to get used to the ideathat you could find some of my things in your chamber, maybe eventhings like these." She dropped her other clothes on the quilt at thefoot of his bed, seeing that the wispy, silky underthings wereclearly visible.

Vincent tried not to look at them.

"The fact that they touched me doesn't change thefact that they're just clothes. Your night clothes are just clothes.I'll wash them and fold them when I can, and take pleasure in thefact that I've done something for you; and you will have to learn toallow it. And..." she took a deep breath and smiled charmingly. "Iwill put them away for you if you will simply tell me where to putthem."

"The bottom drawer of the chest behind me," hemurmured, taken a little aback by her determination. He heard thedrawer open and close, and she was back.

"There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Catherine, could you..." he pointed vaguely atthe clothes at the foot of his bed.

"Certainly," she answered, and picked them up,putting them out of sight in her large gym bag. She imagined thatVincent finally exhaled, and felt simultaneously guilty andamused.

"Why don't we look at this book about the BritishIsles?" she suggested. "I can tell you about the places I've visited- things that aren't in the book." The poor man definitely neededsome distraction of a different sort.

"I would enjoy that," he answered with no smalldegree of relief at the new turn in the conversation.

"I'd like to sit with you if you don't mind. I'llsit in the chair if you'd rather."

He wondered what was wrong with him. She had onlybeen trying to take care of him - for weeks, he had been told. Shehad given up everything of importance in her world to be with him;and here he sat making her feel uncomfortable about it. How could herefuse her anything so simple? Feeling a little less unclothed now,he held out his arm, inviting her to sit with him.

She smiled and climbed up on the quilt beside him.Leaning against his shoulder, she opened the book to the picture ofBuckingham Palace and began to tell him about two trips to theBritish Isles - one she had taken with her father during a Christmasbreak not long after her mother died, and another during a summerwhen she was in college.

He felt her contentment when his arm went aroundher shoulders and was again amazed that such a small response fromhim could provide her such serenity. He relaxed then and drifted intothe pleasure of her stories and bits of trivia that accompanied thepictures of the familiar landmarks.

She had a wealth of stories - side trips into thecountryside, visits to local pubs for meals, people they met, sheepstopping traffic, miles of green, castles...and he had as manyquestions. He related some of the scenery to books and poetry,rousing more information from her memory. They nibbled at the muffinsand fruit, and Catherine retrieved the pitcher of water and made themmore tea. Before they realized it, the afternoon had disappeared andFather was back for his late afternoon rounds. They invited him inwhen he called.

After the morning's conversation with Vincent,Father was surprised to find Catherine curled up next to him with abook. They both looked quite comfortable. Smiling, he decided not totry to figure it out. He supposed the robe must have helped Vincent'ssense of security.

"What has the two of you so entranced?" heasked.

"Catherine has been sharing stories that make thepictures in this book infinitely more entertaining," Vincent answeredand handed Father the book.

"Well," said Father, looking at the book withrenewed interest, "Perhaps you would be willing to share some of yourstories with me sometime, and maybe with a class one day. Thechildren would be fascinated to hear from someone who has actuallyvisited these places. Of course they are all fascinated with youanyway."

"I'll be glad to talk to them any time you'dlike," she smiled. It felt good to be asked to take a role in some ofthe everyday activities of the tunnels.

Father sat and talked with them a while, leafingthrough the pages of the book, and relating a few stories of his own.He watched the way Catherine looked at Vincent, alert to any need shemight sense in him that might add to his discomfort, and he wonderedagain how he could have been so blind. The atmosphere was so relaxedright then that he couldn't resist a little teasing.

"But, Catherine, I'm afraid I'm a littledisappointed in your caregiving."

She and Vincent answered him nearly inunison.

"Why?"

"Father?"

Vincent was immediately coming to her defense whenthey both realized that Father was smiling.

"William tells me no one came to bring Vincentlunch - and one of the stipulations of your caregiving status, younglady, was that you would take care of yourself as well as your..." Hehesitated there, not certain what term to use. "...patient." Hedecided that term was safe. The hesitation wasn't lost on any ofthem, though, bringing back another wave of discomfort.

Catherine thought it might be a good idea torelieve the tension by removing herself from the room. It was nearlydinner time after all, and neither of them had realized they missedlunch. She dreaded the expected reprimand about the missed meal; butcatching a whiff of the aroma coming from the kitchen, she thought itwould be worth any tirade William could muster up. She stopped tospeak to a few people who were asking about Vincent, then resignedlymade her way to the kitchen and the inevitable lecture.

Sure enough, there was a strong reminder thatmeals were necessary, especially for those who have been dangerouslyill. Apparently William felt he was a large factor in Vincent'srecovery and took the job very seriously. She would have to rememberthat. She could barely carry the large tray he had loaded with asmall tureen of hearty stew, homemade bread, fresh fruit, and applepie. Seeing Geoffrey, she enlisted a little help. She was sure theadded bonus of seeing Vincent for a few minutes wasn't far from theboy's mind. He grabbed a smaller tray and dishes and silverware andtook the smaller items from Catherine's tray. Now that things weremore manageable, they started toward Vincent's chamber, Geoffreyfilling her in on what the children were working on in class. Theymissed having Vincent to do the teaching.

Father pronounced Vincent's improvement and satdown to spend a little time with him while Catherine wasout.

"I take it that the dressing gown helped. Theatmosphere when I came in seemed nothing like what you described thismorning," Father observed.

"It was a pleasant afternoon," Vincentanswered.

"I'm sorry if I made things uncomfortable again,"Father responded.

"It isn't your fault, Father. It's mine," Vincentsighed. "Catherine is so determined to make our life together work,and I..."

"Can't justify confining her to it?"

"Yes," Vincent admitted.

"Maybe it's time to let Catherine decide," Fathersuggested. "Give her the truth and let her make her decisions. Youhave to come to terms with your own."

"Catherine, in a manner of speaking, suggestedsomething similar this morning after you left," Vincentanswered.

"So the whole day wasn't as comfortable as thepicture I walked into?" Father chuckled.

"The book was a welcome diversion," Vincentsmiled. Father suspected that was something of anunderstatement.

When Catherine and Geoffrey returned with dinner,Vincent greeted the young man warmly, making sure he was thankedproperly for coming to Catherine's aid. He asked questions about hisclass and asked Geoffrey to give his regards to the otherstudents.

Catherine and Father smiled, thinking Geoffreywould certainly be the envy of the other children tomorrow. None ofthe children had been allowed to see Vincent yet, and they could seeGeoffrey's pride in the look on his face. Catherine reminded him thatVincent wasn't nearly as strong as he looked, and should eat hisdinner and rest. Geoffrey took the hint quickly, turning back brieflyat the door.

"I'm really glad you're getting better, Vincent.We all miss you," he said sincerely. Turning to Catherine, he added,"If you want to leave the trays outside the door, I'll come back andpick them up after dinner. They won't be so heavy when they'reempty."

"Thank you, Geoffrey," Vincent answered with asmile. "I'm sure Catherine would appreciate that."

"Yes, Catherine would," she agreed, flashingGeoffrey a smile that set his youthful hormones in a spin. He thenbounded out of the room - undoubtedly, Catherine thought, to tell hisnews to anyone he met in the passageway.

Father was offered some of the feast Catherine hadplaced on Vincent's desk, but opted for going to the dining hall. Asshe was filling the dishes, Vincent mentioned that Father had helpedhim stand for a few minutes that morning.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" she scolded, "Itwould have been easier with two of us." Seeing the slightlyself-conscious look Vincent tried to hide and remembering theappearance of the robe, she understood, but offered anyway. "Wouldyou like to try to sit at the desk to eat dinner?" I could help youstand.

"Not yet," he answered, "but if you move thatsmall table closer, I can probably sit on the side of the bed."Catherine offered to help, but he insisted on trying to sit up alonewhile she moved the table."

Vincent laboriously moved his legs over the sideof the bed and carefully pulled his robe around him.

Catherine filled a bowl with a big helping of thestew and a plate with the homemade bread and sliced pears and servedit to Vincent. She filled dishes for herself and sat in the chairnear the bed in case he needed anything else. After watching Vincentdown the second big bowl of stew and accept the large serving ofapple pie, she began to think William may not have been exaggeratingabout the appetite - and that it was a good thing Father decided notto stay.

It was quite a relief to see him recovering. Thelast few weeks had been frightening. It was debilitating to both ofthem. He had lost weight, his hair had lost some of its luster, andhis eyes didn't have quite the depth of expression she was used toseeing; but he was improving steadily. Gathering the dishes forGeoffrey to pick up, she thought it wouldn't take long to gain theweight back if he kept eating like this.

Vincent pulled himself back into the bed. In spiteof his obvious enjoyment of the meal, it had taken a lot out of himto sit up unsupported for that long. The pillows behind him were apleasant relief.

"Please give William my compliments tomorrow,"Vincent smiled after he was settled on the pillows.

"I will," Catherine responded, "but I suspect theempty dishes will speak volumes. Did I tell you I had to endure alecture on the necessity of regular meals, especially for thoserecovering from an illness?"

Vincent chuckled sympathetically, having been onthe receiving end of a few of William's lectures himself.

"But the stew made it all worthwhile," she saidover her shoulder as she took the trays to the door forpick-up.

When the dishes were cleared and the table wasback in place, she asked,

"What would you like to do? If you're tired, Icould read for a while and leave you alone."

"I'm tired, but not ready for sleep yet," heanswered, sinking slightly lower into his pillows. "Just sit and talkto me for a while." She sat down in the chair beside the bed andtucked her feet under her.

"I realized today how long you've ignored your jobto be here with me. How have you managed this much time away?"Vincent asked.

"I told Joe I needed an indefinite leave ofabsence or I'd resign," she answered with a small chortle.

"Would you have done that? ...Resigned from a jobyou love just to be here to care for me?" he asked, an edge ofconcern in his voice. "Others here could have done that."

"Vincent, that part of my life is only a job.You're a necessity." she assured him. "One day I'll figure out how toconvince you of that truth. Don't worry, though. My job will bewaiting when I go back. I don't think Joe wanted to lose someone whoworks the hours I do for as little as they pay me," she laughed." Alittle more seriously she added, "I told him there was someone in mylife and that he was very ill. I was even tired and worried enough atthat point that I told him your name. Joe won't say anything. I toldhim I couldn't talk about it, and he tried to understand. I trust himcompletely."

"I know you do," Vincent answered, taking her handin his, "and I'm grateful that he's there. I'm sorry that I make yourlife so complicated. You shouldn't have to hide our love from peoplewho care about you. You deserve..."

"Stop right there!" she answered harshly,retrieving her hand and lowering both her voice and her brows. "Don'teven start down that path again! I'm a big girl now. I can decidewhat's good for me, and I've decided that you are. You didn't ask meto be here. I chose to be..." She then turned her anger on herself."...And I'm not the only one whose life has been complicated. Youwork all day here and still find time for me. You put yourself indanger every time you come to my balcony... And look what loving meand protecting me has done to you. I'm the reason you're in thiscondition. The least I can do is take care of you."

"Catherine..." he began.

"Don't try to make me feel less responsible," sheanswered. "If I hadn't put myself in danger so often, you wouldn'thave so much blood on your conscience. Sometimes I was probably tooreckless because, in the back of my mind, I knew you'd come to saveme."

"Catherine, don't." He hesitated to go on; butremembering Father's advice that morning, he decided it might be timefor truth. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Maybe we're both to blame.Sometimes you might have put yourself in danger that others couldhave handled. Other times you couldn't have planned for it. Myresponse is the problem. The rage I feel when someone tries to hurtyou is something I haven't experienced before, and it frightens evenme. If you hadn't stopped me, there might have been nothing left ofsome of those men but small pieces of flesh and bone. When it washappening I felt so triumphant, so exultant...just for a moment -right before I recognized the carnage I'd created...and that I hadmade you a part of it."

"I've had to protect my family, my community,before; but it was a soldier's duty that had to be done, and notoften. I have the strength and skill to accomplish the same thingwithout such gore. There was always a feeling of the thrill of thehunt, but it was always tempered with absolute control andefficiency... and a sadness that it was necessary. The rages aresomething new and foreign. When it involves your safety, I'm lost. Ihave no control at all." He looked away from her, looking down andspeaking quietly. "The worst part is that I know I've drawn you intothe killing. I have no right to pull you into that kind of darkness."He said this with a profound sense of shame.

Catherine knew how he suffered in telling herthat. Now she looked away, unable to bear the look she wouldundoubtedly see on his face.

"You know about that," she said, looking down withthe admission. "I had hoped you would have missed it in your loss ofcontrol. You were always worried that I wouldn't understand about thedarkness. You realized that I felt it with you the last couple oftimes you lost control so completely, didn't you? I could feel therage in you, and the victory and the exuberance, then the agonizingremorse, and then it was gone; but I knew it was only gone from me. Icould see how it tortured you. I could feel it. I began to understandFather's resentment of me. He could see it, too."

She stopped briefly to be sure she phrased thingscorrectly. This wasn't a subject she could afford to approach withoutgreat care, and probably best approached with this small distancebetween them. He often avoided being too close to her when his lossof control was the subject.

"I've had a lot of time in the past couple ofmonths to think about this, Vincent; and I think I understand why youlose control." He finally looked up as if hoping for an answer hedidn't have. She looked directly at him now. "You love me. You'reprotecting your mate, showing her that you have that kind ofstrength...and, in spite of my better instincts, I respond to it withpride that you can protect me so well. That probably adds to yourfeeling of victory. It's something between the two of us - somethingin both of us that isn't an unusual feeling. You just have strengthand natural weapons that other men don't. I think I feel pride inthat, too. It isn't that I love you in spite of that part of you. Ilove you including that part of you." She looked down and finished alittle more softly. "Maybe just a tiny little bit because of thatpart of you."

He shook his head in disbelief. "No..."

"We both have to deal with our shame," she toldhim quietly. "When I saw you lose control and attack the first time,it was appalling; but when it ended and I pulled myself out of theshock, I didn't stop to consider what you had done. My first concernwas your safety and what cover story to tell. You didn't make me dothat. I remember thinking later that something must be wrong with me,but I did it again and again." She stopped momentarily to pull therest of her argument together.

"Some of those so-called normal men killed formoney. Others killed just as easily for the convenience of avoidingresponsibility or just for the sheer pleasure of the brutality...andthey felt no remorse. That isn't who you are. You've only killed toprotect the ones you love, never anyone who wasn't a real threat tosomeone else, and never without regret. You didn't even try to hurtthat slimy reporter who threatened to expose you Above.

"Soldiers who never wanted to kill can losecontrol protecting their homes or friends...and the ones they protectcan feel the glory of it with them in the heat of the moment. Givenyour strength and built-in weapons, they would probably do the samethings you did. I would, to protect you."

"Catherine..." Vincent said, a slight reprimand inhis voice.

"You know it's true," she insisted. "I would use agun to protect myself and shoot only enough to stop the danger, nomore. But if it meant your safety, I would empty the gun to be surenothing could hurt you. I would be vicious, too, with whateverweapons I could find...gun, baseball bat..."

"I hate that I could bring you to such a place,"Vincent answered, his anguish unmistakable.

"No more than I despise what I've brought you to,"she replied, equally remorseful.

"You shouldn't accept so much blame for thisillness. There were other factors," Vincent said softly. There was abitterness in his voice as he looked toward Catherine. "I lived mylife knowing nothing of Paracelsus until he invaded your world withhis drugs, then he couldn't be ignored. He needed revenge.

"He played mind games with all of us, but heseemed to especially enjoy what he could do to me. He seemed to seeme as a property that should have been his to train for his ownwarped purposes - a lost opportunity. He knew the best way to destroyFather would be to destroy me, and I think he wanted to see mecorrupted simply to know that he could accomplish it." Vincent pulledhis knees up close to him and rested his arms on them.

"He seemed determined to push me into fulfillinghis twisted expectations, and I played right into his hands. He evenengineered his own death in my father's form to see that I could haveno peace, and I allowed myself to be manipulated. When I realizedFather would never have had the thoughts I was hearing and that hemight have harmed Father to get to me...that he had insinuatedhimself into living with us, interacting with the children, posing assomeone they trust completely... Right then I was as crazed as heintended me to be...just as he had planned."

He took in a shuddering breath and his foreheadfell to his arms briefly. He raised his head and looked at Catherineas if nothing could heal his wounded spirit.

"In the end I killed him to stop his words,Catherine. How could I have let him control me that way?"

"He was deranged... and brilliant, andmanipulative," Catherine insisted, reaching to touch Vincent's armfor comfort. "Most minds would have given up long before yours did.You did what had to be done in the interest of your home, Vincent.The threats to the people you love were real and coming more often.He invaded Winterfest with his threats - not just your family, butall the helpers were in danger.

"If he had lived longer, the terror would havecontinued longer. What would you have done then? Banishment is thestrongest punishment the council allows. Eventually he would havebecome dangerous enough for them to 'allow' you to do the dirty workagain," she said resentfully. "Then you would have had to track himdown and put yourself back in danger. You know his death after one ofhis schemes was inevitable. It was a necessity to your world. Don'tgive him the power to persecute you even from the grave."

She couldn't keep the distance between them anylonger. Catherine left the chair and put her arms around him almostfiercely, knowing how difficult it had been for him to put all thosethoughts into words. Resting her head on Vincent's shoulder andholding him tight, Catherine couldn't have despised Paracelsus moreif he were standing there leering in front of her. What he had doneto Vincent... She just sat and held him for a few minutes, relievedwhen she felt him return the embrace; and she felt his head rest onhers. She leaned back to look at him, tenderly brushed several wispsof hair from his face and spoke to him quietly.

"Thank you for being honest with me, Vincent. Itmakes me feel more that you trust me to understand yourthoughts."

"You have thought that I didn't trust you?" heanswered, surprise evident in his voice.

"Not that you didn't trust me," she said, movingback to give him a reassuring look, "just that you didn't want toburden me with the things that torment you or set you apart. I needto be able to talk to you, to understand what hurts you. Sometimes Ifeel like a child who everyone assumes is too young to understandsomething that affects her life, so she's sent from the room beforeit's discussed."

"Was that what Father was trying to tell me thismorning?" Vincent thought. He asked himself if he knew she felt thatway. Of course he did, he realized. He had simply chosen to ignoreit, making the decision for her that she would be better off notknowing. He pulled her to him and she fell gladly into his arms,leaning across him, again resting her head on his shoulder. Henuzzled his cheek against the top of her head, his breath rufflingher hair slightly.

"I'm sorry. I've always kept my personal concernsto myself. It may take me a while to break that habit. It was nevermy intention to..."

"I know, Vincent. I never meant to cause youconcern, either," she murmured against his soft robe.

They held each other, each of them drawing comfortfrom the closeness; then Catherine leaned back to facehim.

"You and Father seem to have you divided firmlyinto Vincent and the dark side." Catherine said quietly. "Which ofyou do you think comes to protect me...? The Vincent who leaves arose and a book of poetry on my balcony? Probably not. Most of usaren't proud of our dark sides; but the dark side is there, and it'salways a part of us. Trying to be two separate people leaves you withonly half a life, Vincent - one half for each of them - and aconstant struggle for who has control of life that day.

"All of what you are is just Vincent to me. Nomatter what you do or what you are, it doesn't change the fact that Ilove you completely and unconditionally. I know that you - all theparts of you - offer me nothing less in spite of my imperfections."She leaned back against his chest and told him firmly, "You need tolearn to accept yourself the same way you accept others."

He held her closer, unable to put anything elseinto words, hoping his love would find it's way to her heart throughhis arms. Half a life... This was a perspective he hadn'tencountered.

That had been a draining conversation for both ofthem. It was getting late, and Vincent hadn't really rested at allthat day. She stood, thinking she should insist he sleep now, beforeFather could find any real faults with her caregiving.

"You need sleep. I'm going to say 'good-night' toFather and get a fresh pitcher of water. Is there anything you'd likeme to bring while I'm out?" she asked, picking up thepitcher.

He shook his head and smiled, enjoying thedomestic picture she presented.

She stopped before she left and smiled back athim. "I love you, Vincent, exactly the way you are."

"Hello," she called before entering the chambernext door.

"Come in. Is anything wrong?" Father asked,sounding a little anxious.

"No, Father. I'm going to run a couple of quickerrands and thought you might like to check in with Vincent. I'vetold him to have me call you if there's anything he needs and doesn'tfeel comfortable asking me for, but he never asks. He had a bigdinner and we drank a lot of tea this afternoon. I don't know how hemanages. I have to run to the little girl's room now and then, but heeither has a bladder of iron or has just decided to suffer until yournext visit. I don't think he remembers too much of his illness in myapartment, so that hasn't been much help."

Father chortled in response to her observation. "Ithink for now Vincent would rather explode than admit in yourpresence that his bodily functions exist at all. We've all acceptednow that you aren't going to disappear from his life, so logic wouldpoint to that changing gradually as time passes. Until then, I'll seethat he's comfortable before we tuck him in for the night. Thank you,Catherine. I know I don't always let you know, but I'm truly gratefulfor your devotion to my son."

"I'll be back in about twenty minutes," shesmiled, and blew him a kiss.

When Catherine returned Father was sitting in thechair near Vincent suggesting a chess game during his visit the nextmorning.

"A glutton for punishment," she thought with someamusement.

"I think it's time Vincent had some sleep, Father.Today is the first day he hasn't had a nap."

"You sound as if I should be in the nursery,"Vincent grumbled good-naturedly. Father laughed, kissed them both,and said his goodnights. Catherine insisted on helping Vincent out ofhis robe.

"You can't sleep in this," she told him. "It'sbound to get all tangled and uncomfortable. I'll put it at the footof the bed so you can reach it if you want it tomorrow."

Vincent slid down under the covers thinking thatsleep would be welcome. Catherine smoothed the covers around hisshoulders as she had been doing for most of the week. Then, also asshe had been doing for most of the week, she pulled the cot up nextto Vincent's bed. Vincent rose slightly on one elbow, suddenlyfeeling wide-awake.

"Do you think this is a good idea? I'm strongernow. You don't need to be as concerned about me."

"Have I been taking good care of you?" sheasked.

"Of course you have," he responded, wonderingwhere this line of questioning was going.

"Do you love me?" she asked.

"You can't doubt that, can you?" hequestioned.

"No, but it would be nice to hear it a little moreoften," she answered, following the statement with the flirtatiouslittle smile that always melted his heart. "This is for me," she saidmore seriously. "It hasn't been that long since we thought we werelosing you. It helps me to be this close."

He didn't argue, just began to wonder how he wouldmanage to sleep. She took off only her shoes and crawled under thecovers. She turned to face his bed, slid her left arm under thepillow, and reached out for his arm with her right hand.

"Catherine..." he said. A slight sound of pleadingtinged his voice. He knew she understood this time. "Can you settlefor just being close?"

"No," she answered, softly but firmly, and withoutmoving her hand. She usually cooperated when she understood hishesitance, and "No" was not the answer he had expected. She proppedherself up on her other elbow, her hand still on his arm.

"This is a very innocent touch," shesaid.

He wondered if she was aware of the veryuninnocent thoughts her slightest touch could trigger. "Of coursenot," he reminded himself. Had he ever allowed himself to let herknow?

"I'm being a good girl," she said lightly butinsistently. "I'm fully clothed and sleeping in my own bed. This onetouch lets me fall asleep knowing you're all right. Everything elseis for you. This takes care of me. You'll have to get used toit."

How could he argue?

"Then perhaps I should help," he replied, quietlyrelenting, and slipped his hand under her arm and around her elbow.She slid back down to the pillow and closed her eyes. He felt herquiet pleasure when he took her arm. He stared at the ceiling for afew minutes, wondering how long it would take to fall asleep with herso close, actually touching him; then, in a few minutes...

"Catherine?"

"Hmmm?" she answered drowsily from somewhere closeto her pillow.

"I love you," he said.

He suddenly realized that, as much as he lovedher, it was only the second time he had spoken it. Knowing how shefelt about him, it had always seemed so final, so much like the lastnail in the coffin of her freedom. He knew his admission of lovewould cement her determination to stay with him. That now seemed aforegone conclusion.

Her eyes remained closed and she said nothing, buther smile and the warm joy he felt in her was all the reward heneeded. Perhaps Father was becoming wiser in his old age.

For a while he thought about the pleasant,unthreatening afternoon they had spent together, and finally driftedinto sleep.

Early in the night he became uneasy, hisnightmares seeming to return. He moved around restlessly in the bed,again mumbling things Catherine couldn't understand, as if he werearguing with someone. Catherine would hold his arm a little morefirmly and talk to him soothingly when it woke her; and he wouldgradually calm. Eventually the restlessness passed, and they bothfell wearily into a deep sleep.

Vincent woke up slowly, feeling surprisingly wellrested and more at peace than the day before. He looked for Catherineand realized it was the first time in days that he didn't wake to seeher moving around his chamber and smiling when his eyes opened. Hehad begun to wonder if it had all been a dream when he became awareof the warmth under his hand. Turning to look at her withoutdisturbing their linked arms, he tried to avoid waking her; but shewoke anyway.

"Are you okay? Is anything wrong? Do you needsomething?" she mumbled, raising slightly on her elbow. He placed hisother hand over hers and soothingly encouraged her back to herpillow.

"No. Nothing. Rest a little longer."

She let her head fall back to the pillow andsmiled, her eyes still closed.

"Is it morning?"

"Yes," he answered with a slight chuckle. "We'veboth slept a little late. Father will be here soon."

"Thank you, Vincent," she murmured, squeezing hisarm lightly before letting it go to sit up.

"For what?" he asked, feeling a small sense ofloss where the warmth of her arm had been.

"For helping," she smiled.

Catherine sat up on the cot, trying to pullherself into orderly thought.

Vincent just watched quietly, enjoying the pictureand committing it to memory for times when she wouldn't bethere.

Realizing she was the center of his attention, shelaughed lightly and ran her hands through her hair to fluff it alittle.

"I must look a mess!" she saidself-consciously.

"You're beautiful," Vincent answered,smiling.

"You are obviously still ill;" she replied, goingdirectly to her hair brush, "but still entirely agentleman."

The easy exchange between them continued whileCatherine found clean clothes for herself, moved the cot out of theway and straightened its covers, and put water in the teapot to heatwhile she was gone. By the time those tasks were accomplished, Fatherwas calling them; and Catherine excused herself to clean up and bringbreakfast.

Watching Vincent watch Catherine leave, Fathersmiled. "You're looking quite content this morning," he observed,starting their morning routine.

"I like waking to her smile, Father," Vincentadmitted.

"Have you told her that?" Father asked, taking outhis stethoscope.

"Not in words," Vincent answered, "but I'm sureshe knows."

"Have you learned nothing about women?" Fatherquipped.

"No," Vincent reminded him pointedly, "I don'tbelieve either of us thought it would become an issue."

Vincent decided to keep his restless dreamsbetween himself and Catherine. He had recovered from the dreamsrather well this time, and there was nothing Father could do exceptworry.

Catherine returned with the breakfast tray, andFather stayed for tea and a little more of a visit.

"After breakfast why don't we try to help Vincentwalk a few steps?" Father suggested. "He can't stay in that bedforever. He might even be ready for a few shortvisitations."

"That would be good for him," she replied. "He'sprobably getting a little tired of only my company."

"Somehow," Father remarked, "I don't think thathas been a significant problem."

Vincent's smile acknowledged the truth in Father'scomment, and Catherine's heart smiled with him.

She held out Vincent's robe. "Here," she said,"Put this on before you sit up for breakfast. I don't want you tocatch cold before you have time to recover."

Knowing what she was doing made Father love herall the more.

When the breakfast dishes were out of the way, thethree of them worked out a balancing act that would help Vincentstart moving his long unused muscles. With their help he managed towalk around his desk, farther than Father had expected for the firsttrip. They were all relieved to get Vincent back in the bed. He wasexhausted, and holding up someone as large as Vincent was no minortask. Father began to make mental note of which large, muscularvisitors he could schedule. Still, they had given Vincent a sense ofmobility, something he had been without for too long.

The movement seemed to trigger a desire in Vincentto be back on his feet. He asked Catherine to call Father thatafternoon so they could try again, and wanted to walk again beforedinner that evening. Each time he moved a little farther.

Catherine had the feeling that Father had probablydone a little physical therapy with Vincent while she wasn't aroundto watch; but they never mentioned it, and she didn't ask. Whateverhe was doing was alright with her as long as it worked. She justwished that Vincent would feel comfortable enough with her to let herbe a part of it.

Father sat a short while to share some of the newshe thought they might have missed.

"Kanin will be coming home tomorrow," he told themwith a slight air of amusement. He's been given early release, butthe prison authorities apparently let him go reluctantly. It seems hewas given the nickname 'The Peacemaker'. They moved him several timesafter finding that wherever he was seemed to take on an atmosphere ofcalm and cooperation. The accident victim's mother seemed to haveaccepted that Kanin had paid enough of a price to allow her closure,and she offered no protest to the early release. She also seemed toappreciate that his gift for stilling conflict might save anothermother the loss of a child. In the hope of holding on to some of thespell he seemed to cast, the prison staff insisted that he returnperiodically to visit. Some of our helpers have promised theirassistance in the visits. We'll give him a day or two of quiet timewith his family, then maybe he can help with some physicaltherapy."

Catherine knew about the early release, having hada small quiet involvement in it. She had also visited him during hisincarceration, her guilt gradually easing with his assurances thatthis had been for the best. It gave him the release both from his ownguilt and from a life of constantly looking over hisshoulder.

"Has he worked out the details of his parolesituation?" Catherine asked.

"We've made arrangements with a helper to providea room and an address and messages to let him know when he needs toappear to live there," Father told her. "Helpers do this periodicallyfor our people making a transition to or from jobs and lives above.Some of them have been in the same situation."

During the morning Catherine and Father let it beknown that, starting the next day, Vincent could have a few visitorsfor a short time in the afternoons. Vincent and Catherine spent aquiet day reading to one another, playing cards, playing chess, andtalking. The book of art prints provided another opportunity forCatherine to tell Vincent about trips and museums where she saw theoriginal works. That night when Catherine started to move the cot,she stopped next to his bed.

"Are we going to argue about thistonight?"

"No," he answered.

She settled into bed; and, in an unspokenagreement, he linked their arms and they slept peacefully.

The following morning Vincent was far more anxiousfor exercise than breakfast. Father and Catherine helped him, andfound that it was easier this time. He was visibly stronger. Whenthey helped him back to bed, he was tired from the exertion; but hehad enjoyed it as well. He was accustomed to a lot of physicalactivity. He was now missing it, and willing to endure whatever ittook to regain it. Determination was taking over.

To Father, who had watched him over the yearsrecover from various accidents and illnesses, that was a welcomedevelopment. Peter's observation that, to a certain extent, Vincenthad always been his own physician had been true. There would be aperiod of rest followed by a period of determination and then thereal healing would begin, usually rapidly. He smiled, feeling thathis son was finally on the road to complete recovery. He would haveto share that thought with Catherine sometime soon.

Vincent had insisted on breakfast at the desk, andwanted to sit there for a while afterward. Catherine had cleared thedishes and he was writing in his journal. She took the opportunity tochange the sheets while he wasn't in them. She stood with her back tohim, smoothing the top sheet. When she bent to tuck in the lastcorner, she realized she was being watched. She stood and looked overher shoulder with a mischievous smile.

"Enjoying the view?" she asked.

Surprised and a little flustered, Vincent startedto answer with an apology.

"Catherine, I..."

Suddenly feeling guilty, she laughed and went togive him a quick, reassuring hug.

"It was a joke. I'm flirting with you, Vincent.Something else you might as well get used to. And you might as wellenjoy the view," she continued, placing a hand on each arm of thechair and leaning closer to glower at him with feigned severity,"because I don't ever expect to catch you with that look on your faceover anyone else."

"Never!" was his immediate response, and he evenmanaged a charming smile.

Catherine laughed and seemed pleased with thatanswer, leaving him still smiling.

He continually had trouble accepting that a womanwho was a confident, independent, wealthy, well-respected attorney inher world seemed so content to be in his - changing sheets and takingcare of his smallest needs... Of course, typically, he was trying notto admit to himself just how much he had been enjoying theview.

She was back at her task now, smoothing the quiltand gathering the sheets she had just removed from the bed. Going toplace them at the doorway to attend to later, she nearly ran overFather as she rounded the screen.

"I'm sorry to break your visiting hours dear; butI thought the two of you should know that the first visitors will bea small contingent of the younger children who insisted strongly thatthey needed to see Vincent first. Knowing the whirlwind of energythat accompanies small children, I thought you should beforewarned."

They all laughed knowingly, and Father was thankedfor his thoughtful warning.

"Mary has enlisted some of the older children tohelp and has promised to keep the visit short."

"It's time for lunch, Father. Why don't you stayand visit while I go and bring it back. Shall I bring something foryou, too?"

"No thank you, dear," he answered. "Let Vincenteat and rest a little after lunch so this visit won't take too muchof a toll. Go ahead. I'll get my visit in now, before he's too tiredto care that I'm here."

She chuckled as she left. Physical therapy was onestress. Small children were quite another.

Catherine was quickly learning where everythinghappened in the tunnels, how responsibilities were handled, how thejobs were done. The government bureaucracy she worked for would havethis world turned upside down in a couple of weeks, she thought; yetthese people had things running like clockwork. If they werescheduled for a job, it was done - None of the "This isn't my job."or "My union won't let me handle this." that her world dealt with alltoo often. In spite of some obvious inconveniences, this wasdefinitely a much more pleasant way of life. She delivered the sheetsto be washed, stopped to talk to some of the community members shemet in the hall, and stopped in the kitchen to pick up a lunchtray.

"Unless you're helping out more than it looks likeyou are, young lady, I guess you're finding out about that boy'sappetite," William pointed out as he filled the tray.

"I don't know, William," she answered with a grin,"maybe I was just too busy mooning over him to noticebefore."

"Then he's a lucky man," William responded with agruff sort of smile. "You make sure he lets you have yourshare."

"Yes, sir," she smiled over her shoulder as sheleft.

The children appeared at the door atmid-afternoon, bringing books, notes from some of the older children,and pictures they had drawn as get-well gifts. There were about eightfour, five, and six year olds of various sizes and ethnic origins,all looking at Vincent as if he might break. They had obviously beentold that he was sick and they were to be on their best behavior.Kipper and Samantha had come along to help Mary if they got out ofhand - and to have a few minutes of their own withVincent.

"What are all those things in your hands?" Vincentasked them.

"They're for you, Vincent," answered the youngestgirl, Teresa, looking up shyly with big brown eyes. "These are fromthe big kids." She handed him the notes.

That was all it took for the others to lose allsemblance of decorum. They all started talking at once.

"Yeah, that's 'cause we get to see you before theydo." "I have stuff, too." We made you some pictures." "Will you hangthem up somewhere?" "We miss you." "Are you better yet?"

"Wait," Vincent smiled, as patient with them asever, "You should take turns so I won't miss anything. Now, may I seethose pictures?"

The tallest boy, Tommy, handed him the pictures;and Vincent looked at each of them, finding something to praise ineach one. "Since the notes are from the 'big kids', I'll read themafter your visit." He took a moment to hand the notes to Catherine."What else do you have there?" Vincent asked. "It looks like youbrought books."

"We're going to read you a story to make you feelbetter," answered Jennifer, who had one of the books. She was nearlyjumping up and down in anticipation.

"Well, since I can't come down there today, Iguess you'll have to come up here with me so I can see all thepictures," Vincent told them quite seriously.

His bed was immediately full of excited children,all clamoring for the best spot. Catherine, Kipper and Samantha helda couple of them back briefly in regard for Vincent's safety, andhelped arrange them in some reasonable fashion. He pretended to beafraid at first and chuckled as they gradually settled down aroundhim. They had chosen The Little Engine That Could, one of thebooks Catherine had brought at Christmas the year before. Marythought the reading might go a little easier for all concerned sincethe younger children had most of it memorized. Catherine and Mary satin the chairs near the bed, spoke quietly now and then, and enjoyedthe scene. Kipper and Samantha settled on the foot of the bed andwatched. The children took turns reading. They all chimed in on "Ithink I can..." and conscientiously showed Vincent all thepictures.

Looking at the second book and imagining how slowsome of the "reading" might be, Vincent offered to read to them. Theyhad a book of children's poems, so each child was allowed to chose afavorite. After the poems were read, Mary and her assistantsannounced the end of visiting hours. The children climbed all overVincent giving him hugs and kisses before scrambling down from thebed, then the chaperones gathered their small charges to go. Teresa,no longer feeling shy, ran back to the side of the bed.

"Can you get better now, Vincent?" sheasked.

He leaned over toward her with a twinkle in hiseyes.

"I think I can, I think I can," he said in a stagewhisper, playing to his appreciative, giggling pint-sized audience.As Mary led them out, Catherine accepted hugs from each of them.Their laughter and chattering voices drifted back into the room fromthe passageway.

Kipper and Samantha had asked permission to stayfor a few more minutes since their jobs here had beenaccomplished.

"Do the two of you plan to read to me, too?"Vincent asked them with a smile.

"No!" Kipper shot back immediately. "You'll haveto get Catherine to do that. You make me do enough of that inclass."

"I'd read to you if you wanted me to, Vincent,"Samantha told him, "but Catherine is much better at it."

"If everyone is leaving the reading to Catherine,then perhaps you would tell me what you've been doing," Vincentsuggested. "I've missed most of the news lately."

They talked about their classes. Olivia had takensome of them swimming, bribing them with cookies to take Luke in thewater so she didn't have to get wet. Kipper teased Samantha aboutbeing in love while Samantha denied it vigorously and threatenedrevenge at the earliest opportunity. Then Kipper finished by saying,"and I went above to do some errands for Catherine." Kipper wassuddenly very quiet and Catherine said nothing; so Vincent, in spiteof his curiosity, simply thanked him.

"I'm sure that Catherine appreciated yourhelp."

Sensing that Kipper might have fallen intouncomfortable territory, Samantha put her need for revenge on holdand reminded him that Vincent needed his rest.

"I enjoyed our visit," Vincent told them, Thankyou for your help with the younger ones.

"Sure, Vincent," Kipper answered.

"Any time you need us, let us know," said Samanthaas they stood to leave.

"You have the patience of Job," Catherinechuckled, standing next to the bed when the two children were gone."You must be exhausted."

She was amazed to see that, rather than exhausted,Vincent seemed energized. It was clear how much he had missed seeingthe children. Catherine smiled down at him, squeezed one of hisshoulders and left her hand resting there. He smiled and shook hishead, remembering the wiggling, giggling mass of miniature humanitywho had just bounced into his bed and back out of hischamber.

"Something like a summer storm, weren't they?" hesaid with a small chuckle, "Blowing in, roaring a little while, andblowing out again." He looked up at Catherine and placed his handover hers.

"They love you, you know. You're wonderful withthem. You always know what to say to make each one feel special.That's a rare gift. You think of them almost as your own, don'tyou?"

"I suppose I do," he answered. "I used to feellike an older brother; but since Laura left us the lines havegradually begun to blur. It was difficult to let her go."

"They couldn't ask for a better big brother - or abetter father figure," she said, intending nothing beyond acompliment.

Vincent's hand slid away from Catherine's, and helost the buoyant bearing he had just moments before. Even though heunderstood her intent quite clearly, he thought maybe this was theright opening to face another truth head on. Catherine needed tounderstand this clearly, too.

"That's all I can ever allow myself to be,Catherine - a father figure." He emphasized the last word. "Even if Iknew it possible for me to father a child, I couldn't allow it. Icouldn't be so unfair as to intentionally create a child who might beconfined to a life like mine. I know that child would have me forguidance; but I've lived this, and guidance isn't enough. Even if thefirst child didn't look like me, the next ones might... or theirchildren. Regardless of their appearance, I would have contributedgenetically. The consequences of that selfishness on my part wouldleave generations in its wake - young people afraid to have childrenfor fear they might look like this.

"Those children would be loved and respected inthis community. I know that. They would be safe in my world; but ifanything happened to this community, there would be no safe place forthem. All it would take is another Burch Towers in the right place,and our community could be destroyed. The thought that one of mychildren or grandchildren could be captured or caged the way I havebeen, or confined for medical experiments, or used the way Paracelsuswould have used me, is something I am not willing to risk. I have toaccept that I will be the only one of my kind, that I will leave notrace of myself when I go."

"I know all that," Catherine said softly, sittingon the side of the bed to face him, "and I will agree toit."

He took her hands in his.

"I know you want children. I can feel it whenyou're with them. I've felt the longing in you when you see one ofthe women here announce her pregnancy. It pains me to know that Ican't give you that." He took in a breath and released a deep, sadsigh. "I know you would want my children and love them asunconditionally as you love me, but I can't give them to you. Iwon't. You have to understand. There can be no compromise in this. Tohave a life with me you have to accept that, and you shouldn't beconfined to such a promise."

She touched his arm gently.

"But I have chosen to be confined to that promise.If I did have children, Vincent, whose would they be? When acceptingone kiss from Elliott hurt you so deeply, how could I possibly allowmyself to create a child with someone else? I could never do that toyou. I could never do that to us. I make decisions for myself,remember? This is my choice, too; and you have to acceptthat."

She moved her hand to touch his face, stroking herhand across his cheek, pleased that he allowed it soeasily.

"The fact that you exist at all is a miracle. Thefact that I'm alive to appreciate your existence is a miracle. Thefact that you found me and saved me, that this bond exists betweenus, that we share this kind of love, that either of us have livedthrough the dangers of the past couple of years...all of those thingsare miracles. The birth of a child... How many miracles can twopeople expect in one lifetime? Maybe we've simply used up our share.To ask for that much more would surely be tempting fate." She restedher hand on his shoulder again.

"As for leaving no trace of yourself when yougo... You already have traces of yourself all over New York. Lauraand Michael are just two. Laura's strength and signing and Michael'sscholarship to college are because of your teaching and yourencouragement. They take you with them, even when they aren'tthinking about you. I live a life that makes a difference because ofyour influence on me. I've seen that a lot of others do, too." Tryingto sound a little more cheerful, she added, "Besides, you've alreadygiven me more children that I know what to do with. Remember the'summer storm' that just blew through? The nursery is full ofchildren who need both of us. We could always adopt a baby the wayFather adopted you if we feel the overwhelming need to wake up fortwo o'clock feedings." Without a word, Vincent gathered her into hisarms and they held each other quietly for a long time.

That night Vincent's nightmares returned.Catherine woke to find him thrashing back and forth, moaning, "No!...No!..." His voice was getting louder, and she suddenly felt theoverwhelming torment of his dreams. There was a roar building in himthat would not only wake Father, but frighten half the tunnels aswell; and she intended to take care of him herself. She scrambledinto his bed and grabbed his shoulder, shaking him and calling hisname.

"Vincent, it's all right. You're just dreaming."He began to calm a little, and she shook him again. "Wake up. It'sonly a dream. I'm here." She knew it must have been frightening. Hisface was damp with perspiration and she could feel his heartracing.

Vincent opened his eyes, looked around and sat up.He put his hands to his face, and took in a long breath, trying tocollect himself. When he released the breath, it transformed into theword, "Catherine." To her surprise, he pulled her tightly into hisarms, repeating her name.

"What frightened you so?" she asked, returning hisembrace just as strongly.

"The dreams," he answered, still feeling theirfull effects, "Like the ones I was having before.

"Tell me," she whispered.

"There's no need to concern you." he answeredshakily.

"Talk to me. Don't close me out," she pleaded. Hehesitated, then the words poured out through unsteadybreaths.

"I had lost you...You were gone. Our bond wasgone, and I couldn't find you...You died...because of me."

"Did you think you had hurt me?" she asked,stroking his hair.

"No. They hurt you because of me," He shook hishead slightly. "...The unspeakable things you endured because youdared to love me..." She pulled away to look at him.

"There's more to it, isn't there?"

"Yes," he answered, but he hesitatedagain.

"Tell me," she insisted. "We'll face our fearstogether from now on. Promise me that."

"Catherine..." he began, trying to dissuadeher.

"All our fears, all our concerns...together," sheinsisted. There was another hesitation, then with another rush ofwords he answered her, his head down, unable to look ather.

"They took you because you carried my child...Theykilled you and took our son. I had lost you, and I couldn't find ourchild." He took her in his arms again, almost as desperately as hehad the night she nearly drowned. "Hold me, Catherine."

She wrapped her arms around him as tightly as shecould. He had finally asked for her care instead of just accepting itwhen it was offered. She wondered if, in his present state, he couldrealize how much that meant to her - to them.

She woke sitting propped against his pillows, hishead on her shoulder and his arms still around her waist. Her cheekrested on his hair. One of her arms was protectively around hisshoulders, and the other rested on his upper arm. She smiled andnuzzled his hair, imitating the habit she loved in him. Thinking backto the agony he was in during the night, she wondered how many timeshe might have had such dreams while he was ill. Their conversationafter the children left had apparently dredged up other reasons toworry about her safety and for not allowing himself the joy of beinga father. After the dangers they had both endured in the past twoyears, she had to admit they were valid concerns. She pulled her armaround him more tightly and softly kissed the top of his head. Shedidn't want to wake him, just to know he felt safe andloved.

When Vincent finally opened his eyes, his firstwords were an apology, concerned for the burden his weight must havebeen.

"I'm the caregiver right now," she smiled down athim, not willing to let him go quite yet. "It's all part of the job -and one of the more pleasant aspects of the job, I mightadd."

"I can't imagine that pulling me out of a violentnightmare could have been all that pleasant," he answered, sitting upslowly and feeling a little self-conscious about his response to hisdreams.

"Not the nightmares," she agreed, "but I like thatyou talked to me instead of keeping it locked in. You can tell me therest later when it doesn't seem quite so close...And holding youunder any circumstances..." she smiled, "...the pleasure was allmine."

"No it wasn't," he answered, glancing at her witha slightly self-conscious smile, still looking a little uncomfortablewith all this truth. "Thank you," he added, reaching to cover herhand with his.

She decided getting out of his bed would be wise.It was getting more difficult not to think of pinning him to the bedand ravishing him right then and there.

During the next few days Vincent showed amazingimprovement. He wasn't ready to run any races or even to venture awayfrom his chamber, but he was moving around a bit on his own andsitting up away from the bed much more often. The screen disappearedfrom the doorway to indicate visiting hours, which were now twice aday; and with the number of various visitors, he thought he must nowknow every scrap of news and gossip available in the tunnels. Fatherhad apparently put a stop on any pipe messages that might causeVincent concern while he recovered. Only messages of dire emergencywere to be allowed, and there had blessedly been none of those.Vincent insisted that all messages be reinstated. He promised not togo rushing off to help before he was strong enough; but knowing hisson as well as he did, Jacob prayed for an extreme lack of troublefor a few more weeks.

Catherine seemed to be taking on more and more theacceptance of a resident in the community rather than just a helper;and the community seemed to love her now simply for herself. At firstthere had been some distrust, but she soon proved herself a staunchlyloyal and valuable helper; and, of course, they loved her for herdevotion to Vincent.

Father brought Peter with him that morning to seethe progress Vincent had made. Peter was both astonished andoverjoyed to see Vincent on his feet and looking so muchhealthier.

"What do you suppose could have accomplished suchwonders?" he asked Father jokingly.

"Being waited on hand and foot hasn't hurt, I'msure. I've noticed that the nursing care has been excellent," Fatheranswered, both of them looking at Vincent with an air of amusement.Vincent stood and looked at the two older men in mockdisgust.

"If the two of you have had enough entertainmentat my expense, I shall excuse myself to bathe and dress beforeCatherine returns. I believe I've lived in night clothes far toolong."

He made a short formal bow and went in search ofcomfortable clothing while the two older men talked. After he haddressed, he asked Peter to be sure to stop to see him before goingback above.

When Catherine returned with breakfast, she wastaken by surprise. She had become so used to seeing Vincent in hisnight clothes she had forgotten how good he looked in the real ones.She wondered if he had chosen those clothes because they werecomfortable or because he knew they were some of her favorites -maybe both. As he sat down to eat breakfast, Vincent consciouslyallowed himself to bask in her pleasure at his appearance, and hewondered why he had suddenly permitted himself such a vanity. It wascertainly unlike him to willingly give in to suchfeelings.

Finishing sausage, milk and a large stack ofpancakes, he mentioned to Catherine that William seemed to be feedingeveryone all of his favorite foods lately.

"You and Kipper wouldn't be responsible for thesudden acquisition of ingredients, would you?" he asked. "And how didyou know what to arrange for?" Knowing she couldn't hide it from him,she laughed.

"I talked to Mary a lot. She's forgiven me forusurping her place in your recovery, and we've both enjoyedconversations about you. You're in love with a woman who has moremoney than she knows what to do with, and you deserve to be spoilednow and then. Indulge me a little and at least pretend to enjoyit."

"The entire community is undoubtedly enjoying it,"he answered, smiling appreciatively. "You spoil us all. We can'tallow this to go on too long, though. Reality will be too hard toaccept, and they may wish me to be ill again."

"Then I would have to cut them out of theindulgence loop," she answered quickly, as she stacked dishes on alarge tray, "and only spoil you." Vincent stood to help her, showingsigns of regaining the strength and grace of movement everyone wasaccustomed to seeing in him.

"I'm more spoiled by having you here for so long,"he answered. "I'm becoming much too dependent on seeing your face atthe beginning of my day."

"Good," she answered lightly, not ready to thinkabout having to leave him again. "Because you aren't doing without meyet. I can't give up taking care of you cold turkey. It's becomeaddictive."

Catherine picked up the tray to return it andVincent's old instincts took over.

"I should be helping you with that," hesaid.

"Not yet," she answered. "Give yourself anotherday or two. Father says if you keep improving at this rate, we canstart taking some short walks. Then I'll let you help," shepromised.

"I look forward to that," he answered.

When Catherine returned, Vincent was writing inhis journal. Trying her best to hide her curiosity, she straightenedthe bed and leaned back on the pillows with a book.

"Most of it is about you," he said, not evenlooking up. "When you brought it to me at first, it was more aboutthe illness; but since then the entries have been aboutyou."

"Maybe it's time I should move back to the guestchamber," she answered, feeling a little embarrassed about not beingable to hide her curiosity. "You're enough better now that youprobably need more time to yourself. I didn't mean to intrude intoyour thoughts."

"It wasn't an intrusion, just an agreeablepresence," he answered.

"You're writing only about me?" Catherine couldn'thelp asking.

"About us," he admitted. "Father has insisted thatwe need to speak honestly and make decisions about our future. I knowhe was right, and the journal helps me think." He still hadn't facedher. She thought that probably made it easier to say things he wasn'tentirely comfortable saying yet.

"Father has actually said such a thing?!"Catherine exclaimed, and Vincent chuckled.

"Yes. Apparently you won him over quite thoroughlywhile I was ill."

"Well, that's one more bridge we don't have tocross on our journey," Catherine laughed, with evidentrelief.

Vincent still didn't look up. He closed thejournal and sat a little sideways in the chair, his head still down,shifting the pen back and forth between his hands for a fewseconds.

"Catherine?"

"Yes?" she answered, looking up.

"Don't move back to the guest chamber," he saidsoftly.

She went to him immediately, putting her armsaround him from behind and nestling her face in his hair. He reachedup to hold her arms in his hands.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she answeredhappily. Then, to add to her happiness, he leaned his head backagainst her shoulder and turned so his forehead rested against hercheek. She pressed her face a little closer to his andsmiled.

"I know you have to go back to work soon," he toldher with a resigned sigh, "but this time it will be more difficult tosee you go." She held him a little tighter.

"It will be harder for me, too."

"Do you know how much I love you?" heasked.

"I think so," she answered. "Do you know how muchI love you?"

He leaned his face closer against hers andindulged in a brief, self-deprecating little chortle. "I don'tpretend to understand your reasons, but yes, I know," he answered,and he tightened his hold on her arms.

"Thank you, Father," she thought, "for whateveryou said to point Vincent in this direction."

Toward the end of the evening visits Kanin stoppedby. When the last of the other visitors had gone, Catherine pulledthe screen across the door again. She stayed for a little while andtalked with them, then she went to do some visiting of her own toallow them time to talk alone. She knew Vincent enjoyed Kanin'scompany. He seemed to be able to speak more freely with him than withmost of the others, and she knew he had missed that while Kanin wasgone. She enjoyed spending time with Olivia as well, and they bothenjoyed Luke. This was about as close as she and Vincent came tohaving another couple to spend time with. She hadn't realized thatshe had missed that, too.

She went to the nursery to see if she could helpwith the bedtime stories - or bedtime wrangling. Extra hands wereusually welcome for the bedtime tasks. That job accomplished, atleast for the time being, she walked Mary back to her chamber."Vincent finally noticed that he was being indulged, and I had toadmit to your role in the conspiracy," she laughed.

"Does he know about tomorrow's indulgence?" Maryasked.

"No," Catherine smiled. "He might suspectsomething. He can't actually read my mind, but it's hard to keepsecrets. It can be a little inconvenient when I want something to bea surprise; but this is so small and silly, maybe he won't notice. Ihope his childhood tastes haven't changed too much to enjoy somethingso foolish. At least I can be sure the children will enjoyit."

She hugged Mary and took her time walking back toVincent's chamber, thinking how much she didn't want to go back tothe District Attorney's office on Monday. She knew Joe didn't feel hecould spare anybody when she had demanded leave time, and he hadallowed her this time off only because it was Catherine asking...andthreatening to resign. It was Wednesday. She could send Joe a messagethat she would be back on Monday, and she would still have a few moredays with Vincent.

Vincent was much better now; and there was no realreason he needed twenty-four hour care - no reason for her to stillbe living in his chamber at all now - except that he had asked her tostay. He was learning to accept from her, even to ask. In the midstof the smile that accompanied that thought, she nearly bumped intoKanin leaving Vincent's chamber.

"Better not wear that smile too much in public,"Kanin teased. "Somebody might get the feeling there's more thannursing duties going on behind that screen," he grinned.

"Behave yourself!" she laughed, and swatted him onthe arm.

"Vincent looks much better than I expected afterthe stories I'd heard this summer," he said.

"He's come a long way, Kanin," she told him. "Fora while we thought he might not make it. I've never been soafraid."

"From what I understand, folks were pretty worriedabout you, too. For what it's worth, Vincent knows what a lucky manhe is."

They talked for a few more minutes, then Kaninexcused himself to return to Olivia. He wanted to be sure sheunderstood how lucky he considered himself.

Using her best tunnel manners, Catherine calledVincent's name to let him know she was back before she entered hischamber. At his response she went in and found him at his desk in hisnight clothes, again writing in his journal. She just smiled and said"Hello" and left him to his writing. As she began to move the cot inwhat had now become an accepted nightly ritual, he offered his help;but she sent him back to his journal entries. If that journal helpedhim think about working out their future together, that was certainlywhere she wanted his mind to be.

Completing her task, she realized his robe wasstill hanging on the hook; another sign of his becoming morecomfortable with her constant presence - another smile all the way toher soul. She was, she thought, in serious danger of having her facefreeze in this position if anything else good happened.

"I've felt a joy in you all evening," Vincentobserved, closing his journal and looking at her. "What is it thatmakes you so happy?" he asked with a smile.

"The pleasure of your company," she answered,their bond sending him a feeling of deep contentment. He didn'tquestion her further, just shared her joy. They both slept well thatnight, dreaming very pleasant and well-behaved dreams.

When Catherine woke, Vincent was already dressed.His hair was still damp, indicating that he had probably been upearly and bathed.

"You're getting pretty independent," she mumbled.He had learned that she needed a few minutes to organize herthoughts, so he just smiled and allowed her some time. He had waterheating for tea and had already been to the kitchen and successfullytalked William into an early breakfast tray - an unheard ofconcession. She took all this in as she ran her fingers through herhair to straighten it a little.

"Who's taking care of whom?" she asked. "If you dotoo much of this, rumors will start flying. It doesn't take long downhere, you know."

"I told William you weren't feeling well and itwas your turn to be cared for." "Vincent!" she exclaimed with a grin."You told a lie?"

"Just a little one," he smiled. "It was too earlyin the morning for one of William's lectures; and after the recentinflux of groceries, I knew he couldn't refuse youanything."

"Shameless manipulation? A side of you I haven'tmet," she laughed.

"A side infrequently used and only with the bestof intentions," he assured her with one of those endearing halfsmiles, as he arranged breakfast plates at the desk and moved anotherchair across from his. He served the plates while she tried to makeherself more presentable. Sleeping in her clothes was becoming anannoyance, but well worth it to be able to spend so much time thisclose to him. They had a long way to go toward a future together, butthere had definitely been progress.

They had a leisurely breakfast and were finishingjust as Father called. He was surprised to see the depleted breakfasttray.

"How did you manage that so early in the day?" heasked, amused as well as amazed.

"He woke up before I did and lied to William,"Catherine laughed. "Apparently I'll need to call on my actingabilities and appear to be ill at least for the morning."

"Did I miss a visit from Devin?" Father quipped, alittle chortle escaping. Turning toward Catherine, he added, "Thissounds like something the two of them might have tried asyoungsters."

"Would you like some tea, Father?" Vincent askedinnocently, ignoring them both.

"That response looks very much like the two ofthem as children as well," Father said with a smile. Then towardVincent, who was still looking quite innocent, he answered, "Teawould be nice, Son. Thank you." Picking up the last muffin, he added,"And if you don't mind, I'll help you enjoy your ill-gottengains."

They visited for a while, all of them enjoying theconspiratorial tone of the meeting. Father suggested that they leavethe tray outside the door and allow one of the children to pick it uplater. He would let William know that he had looked in on Catherineand that she would be fine. He even suggested that they leave thescreen at the door during morning visiting times so Catherine could"get some rest" - that is if they could stand to be alone for thatmuch longer. Having been assured that alone would not be a problem,Father hobbled off for a more complete and properly obtainedbreakfast.

Both delighted and surprised by Father's willingparticipation in Vincent's little subterfuge, she turned to Vincentand smiled.

"Sometimes I wish I could talk to someone aboutFather's childhood behavior. It intrigues me that yours doesn't seemto fit the same standards of dignity you insist on now."

Leaving the breakfast tray at the door, Vincentsmiled at her observation.

"Would you like to visit some remnants of mychildhood?" he asked, adding rather mischievously, "...since we willhave ample time alone this morning."

"I would be honored," she answered with a littlecurtsy, enjoying the playful side of him that surfaced now andthen.

He went to a shelf and took down a dusty woodenchest with a curved lid and dusted off the top before opening it. Shehad seen the larger chest with the carousel.

"The chest itself often held pirate treasure," hetold her. "Eventually the treasures were just the memories." Heopened the chest and took out two small wooden swords elaboratelypainted in childish renderings of royal markings, a few glued onjewels still remaining.

"Devin and I fought off many a villain with theseswords, he smiled. A few too many for Father's peace of mind, I'msure."

He provided a few of the more exciting storiesconcerning the small swords.

Catherine had heard a couple of pirate storiesfrom Father and Mary, but Vincent shared a few new ones that shesuspected the two most important adults in his life probably stilldidn't know about - a couple that might still have the capacity togive Father and Mary a few new gray hairs. One story was evenpunctuated with a little impromptu swordplay. She couldn't help butlaugh out loud at the unexpected sight of a usually quite dignifiedVincent briefly becoming a pirate for her entertainment. There wasalso a small cape, similar to the cloak he still wore.

"And what was the cape for?" sheventured.

"It had miscellaneous purposes," he said,obviously enjoying the memories. "One day it might belong to one ofthe three musketeers, on another it might be Sherlock Holmes' coat orbelong to one of a large variety of villains, and we weren't entirelyunaware of Superman and Batman. Children of our helpers found theirway into the tunnels, along with their comic books. Sometimes itbelonged to Dracula," he pronounced the last word with theappropriate accent. "At that time, I thought built-in fangs wererather impressive."

At other times that last remark might have broughtthe light-hearted atmosphere to a close; but this conversation seemedto be centered entirely in his childhood, and he looked deeper intothe chest. There were a few picture books - obviously well used bysmall hands, one showing castles similar to the ones in the book theyhad spent so much time with recently. He showed her pictures he haddrawn when he was small - pictures that someone older, probably Mary,she thought, had lovingly preserved in an envelope with a cardboardlining. His artistic talent showed even then. There was a smallbattalion of toy soldiers and their cannons and banners, and typicallittle boy collections of marbles and rocks. There were a few shinyrocks that would obviously have caught a child's fancy, a small geodewith amethyst crystals, and several others that seemed to havenothing special about them. Vincent had a story to explain theimportance of each of them, though; and he kept her spellbound withone story after another, again one or two that would probably stillcurl Father's hair. Catherine would occasionally comment, insert asimilar story from her own childhood, or ask a question; but mostlyshe listened.

She absorbed not only the stories but the littlehints she found in them of what had formed the man she now loved. Sheenjoyed imagining him just playing and being free, not having tothink about who or what he was. She especially loved that he wantedto share his memories with her.

"It was fun visiting your childhood for a littlewhile," she smiled, helping him put his treasures back in thechest.

He left the books on the bed before closing thechest, thinking it seemed selfish to hide those books away. If he hadenjoyed them as much as he did, the present tunnel children wouldsurely enjoy them, too.

"I enjoyed the visit much more for having youthere," he answered, placing the chest back on the shelf. By the timethey returned the chest to its resting place, most of the morning wasgone.

"Do you suppose I've been 'ill' long enough tocover your story?" Catherine asked. "You obviously have enoughstrength to get to the kitchen. Maybe we could have lunch in thedining hall today."

"Are you already tired of being alone?" heteased.

"Never," she smiled, and wrapped her arms aroundhis waist. He laughed and put his arms around her the sameway.

"Before we leave here again," he suggested,looking down at her, "one of us should probably ask Father what yoursymptoms were."

She chuckled against his chest.

"Next time you invent a story that involves me,let me in on the planning."

Hearing the sound of Father's cane in thepassageway, Catherine hurried to wait at the door and surprised himby reaching out and catching his arm to pull him into Vincent'schamber.

"We plan to have lunch in the dining hall today;and before we go near him, we need to know what you told William,"she insisted, snickering.

"You had a debilitating headache, dear. Don't youremember?" he chuckled. "It seemed to be a sinus problem. Adecongestant was all you needed. You did take your medication, didn'tyou?" he asked with mock seriousness.

"Of course, Father. I always follow my doctor'sorders." She had to laugh. Two of the most dignified men she knewwere being as playful as children but still looked dignified. How didthey manage that?

"Now, if the two of you have completed your cloakand dagger snatching of innocent old men from hallways, I shallcontinue to my own chamber," Father stated, and left shaking hishead, the sound of a soft laugh trailing behind him.

Vincent picked up a book from the shelf near thechest and handed it to Catherine. "If you want insight into my senseof humor as a child, you might want to look at this," he told herwith a little twinkle in his eye.

She took the book from him and read the title. Itwas a book of silly poems.

"Devin and I would read these to each other andlaugh uncontrollably."

Catherine read the first poem aloud and chuckled,imagining Vincent and Devin stretched across the bed in gales offoolish laughter. Vincent read the next one and looked for the oneshe and Devin had particularly enjoyed. They both laughed at the imageof two little boys indulging themselves in silliness; and, beforethey knew it, it was time for lunch.

Armed with the correct "medical information", theywalked hand in hand to the dining hall.

Seeing Vincent out of his chamber for the firsttime in weeks, the lunch goers broke into applause and welcomingremarks. The tunnel grapevine also had them asking about Catherine'shealth.

She managed to keep herself under control whilesticking to her decongestant story and changing the subject asquickly as possible. Catherine insisted Vincent's reprieve would beshort and left him talking to friends while she collected theirlunches. He was beset by nearly every child in the tunnels, thesmaller ones wanting to be held or to sit close. The older oneswanted to tell him what they had been doing or pin him down aboutwhen he would be teaching their classes again, voicing the samecomplaints about his lengthy absence that one might have heard fromtheir counterparts Above.

Mary finally shooed them away so Vincent couldfinish his lunch, then she stayed to have some time with him. She wasthe closest to a mother Vincent had known, and he loved her as hewould a mother. She was now holding the same place in Catherine'slife. Like some of the others, she first loved Catherine for lovingVincent. She now just loved her as if she had always beenthere.

As they walked back to Vincent's chamber,Catherine stopped suddenly. "Wait here. I'll be rightback."

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"The little girl's room," she answered, smiling asshe scurried off. When she returned, Vincent wasn't there, but hereappeared quickly from the same direction she had just comefrom.

"Where were you?" she asked.

"The little boy's room," he said with an amusedsmile, still wondering where topsiders found some of theirterminology.

Catherine grinned at hearing such an unfamiliarterm from his voice. "Another small barrier breached," shethought.

On their way back they stopped to talk towell-wishers they passed in the halls. Now and then they wouldencounter a comment about being confined for so long or goingstir-crazy. When they finally reached his chamber, Catherine pulledthe screen back across the doorway.

"You should rest a while," she said.

"I'm not tired."

"I want you to rest anyway," she insisted, knowingthat, since there was now a third visiting period in the evening,this extra trip might take at least a small toll on his energy."People will expect to visit this afternoon and this evening. Atleast lie down and I'll read to you for a while."

He sighed in resignation and stretched out on thebed. "It seems to me we've used this technique on wayward children atbedtime," he mumbled.

"The way you've been behaving today... If the shoefits..." she answered with amusement as she looked for the book theywere last reading from.

"Catherine, have you felt confined having to spendso much time in this room?"

"No," she answered. "Sleeping in my clothes isgetting a little old; but other than that, no."

"Neither have I," he told her.

"Father says you've never been such a goodpatient, that you would normally be trying to escape."

"I've never been in love with Father," Vincentresponded playfully.

She offered him a look that left no doubt his lastremark pleased her; then he heard, "Aha!" as she found the book, amystery; and she read a few chapters before the first visitors werecalling.

The last visitors were Kanin, Olivia, and Luke.Vincent and Catherine walked them to the door and pulled the screenover it after they left.

"They seem so happy," she remarked, smiling as sheturned toward Vincent. "A year is a long time to be apart. I wouldn'tbe at all surprised if Luke weren't a big brother beforelong."

Vincent was suddenly very quiet, and she wasafraid she had inadvertently broken the easy-going mood of theday.

"I want us to have what they have, Catherine," hesaid quietly. "Until I met you I had come to terms with what Iam...with being alone. After I found you... " He hesitated, pulled ina deep, slightly noisy breath, and leaned his head back infrustration. "I don't even know if it's right for us to be togetherthat way." He lowered his head and looked directly forward, ratherthan at her. "In so many ways I am a man. I walk in the form of aman. I have the speech and intelligence of a man. I have the soul andemotions of a man, the needs of a man; but I am always aware of theother part of me that loses itself in raw instinct - and when I seemyself..." He looked back down and took her hands in his. "Our lovefeels so right...so natural; but then I see my hands touch yours andthey look so inhuman..." His voice trailed offuncertainly.

"I've asked myself the same questions, but theanswer is always the same. We don't choose who we love, Vincent. Itjust happens. Peter doesn't seem to have any doubts. You and Nancyhave said to follow my heart, and my heart always leads me to you. Weknow you can never live in my world, but we have the tunnels. We canhave a life together."

"There may even be those here who wouldn'taccept..."

"Let them not accept," she shot back. "Our lovefeels right to us, and we're the ones who have to live it. We've bothproven what we're willing to sacrifice for one another. That alonegives us a better chance of a long life together than half thecouples in my world. I want to spend my life trying to make youhappy. You don't have to be alone anymore. I intend to be part ofyour life in any way you allow me to share it."

"I know that you love me. I believe now that youwon't accept anyone else. I can change my understandings, but thereare things that I can never change...things that aren't human. Youthink you've accepted them, but you haven't seen all of what youthink you want."

"Then show me," she challenged.

To her surprise, he pushed the sleeve of hissweater up to his shoulder.

"This is what you would promise yourself to -claws and fangs, a face with a shape that can neither be called amouth nor a muzzle, and enough hair to be more like an animal than aman. I can't even bathe and simply dry myself the way everyone elsecan. Really look at me, Catherine. Be certain you can acceptthis.

The hair on his arm wasn't quite as thick as whatwould normally be called fur, but there was entirely too much tosimply call it hairy. It was longer and straighter and heavier on hisforearm and shorter, lighter and slightly curled on the upper armwhere it had been pressed down under his sleeves, tapering off tovery little on his upper shoulder where it met his neck. Sheremembered the look of his strong, gentle hands as he had given herthe crystal on their first anniversary. He had to understand that heshould hate nothing about himself because of her. She took his handand turned his arm over to touch the inside of his wrist, moving herhand gently on the much less hairy side of his forearm up to theelbow.

"These are the only arms I want to feel holdingme. I see nothing here that I wasn't sure I'd find. What I find,though is much more like a man than an animal..."

She turned his arm over to reveal the soft hairthat covered all of this side of his arm and slid her fingersexperimentally into the hair. She closed her eyes and allowed herfeelings free reign. Feelings of desire that she usually kept incheck surfaced as she increased the pressure from her fingertips andmoved her hand up his arm and past his elbow around the muscles inhis upper arm - all the while clearly enjoying the delicious feel ofher fingers furrowing through the tawny hair.

Vincent hardly breathed at the sudden, unexpectedrush of sensation.

Catherine's hand finally reached his again, andshe turned his arm and kissed the inside of his wrist. With that shereined in her feelings and eased the shirtsleeve backdown.

"May I assume that we can now move past your furfetish?" she asked firmly. With a mischievous little twinkle in hereye, she added, "I already have one of my own. And while this subjectis open, let me tell you what else I find attractive," she said,stepping a little closer. "We could start with the most beautifulblue eyes I've ever seen. Feeling your unusual mouth against mine isone of my favorite daydreams. I like your eyebrows and the way thehair grows in a different direction than I'd expect it to toward thebridge of your nose. I love that wonderful mass of golden hair andthe way the tips of those long teeth... Okay, fangs... peek out whenyou smile. I like the way the hair on your hands and your chin feelsagainst my face, and I can't imagine ever wanting anyone else's handsto touch me. Other men's faces have become a little boring. Yours isthe one I want to wake up to. Now, unless you have otherdifferences," the mischief in her manner returned, "...like two ofsomething that might cause me concern... then you should understandthere is nothing about you that I would not findpleasing."

Realizing the meaning of her last remark, helooked away, smiling in spite of a measure of embarrassment, andassured her that all his parts existed in the correctquantity.

"What about me?" she asked, peeking around to bein his line of vision again. "I don't have enough fur to mention. Myteeth are all the same length. I sometimes paint my nails to makethem more interesting, but they break because they aren't strong likeyours. My face is too normal to be exciting. How could you possiblyfind that attractive? It's all so different from you."

He turned to look at her, a brief look of surpriseon his face; then he smiled and conceded with a slight formalnod.

"Point well made, counselor."

"One more bridge we don't have to cross," shesmiled.

He put his arms around her waist and rested hisforehead against hers, and she put her hands on his chest.

"Your patience staggers me, Catherine. Theseinsecurities have been with me since I was a boy. They've colored mythinking for so many years..."

"I know," she answered, snugglingcloser.

He rested his cheek against her hair. "I'm soafraid of hurting you. I would rather die than hurt you."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and held hima little tighter. "I believe you proved that a few weeks ago. Thatshould tell you something," she answered. "There were times youdidn't recognize anyone else, but my voice or my touch could reachyou. I've seen the beast, Vincent. I met him in that cavern, and eventhen he refused to hurt me. I can almost guarantee that if you didn'thurt me then, it will never happen. Do you remember any of thatday?"

"I remember most of it as if it were adream...more like a nightmare. I actually raised my hand to strikeyou." When he said that, his hands came up to hold her closer, as iftrying to protect her from even the memory.

"But you stopped. You didn't strike me. Is thatany part of what you were dreaming before you began to recover? Youwere in such agony and there was nothing we could do."

"Some of the dreams forced me to face things I'vestruggled with all my life. Others brought me to the one you woke mefrom. But you did help, Catherine. Through all of it I could feelyour love. I was vaguely aware of your voice and your touch. That wasmy only connection to sanity, maybe to life."

"Doesn't that tell you something, too?" she asked."How could you hurt someone that important to you? If Lisa is stillpart of your concern, you didn't have this bond with her. There was asixteen-year-old boy who left me with bruises when I wanted to getaway. He didn't mean to do that either; but if he'd had claws, Iwould have had the same marks Lisa did. You were fifteen years oldthen and full of hormones you didn't understand. I'm not a littlegirl who flirted her way into something she didn't expect andfrightened herself." She lifted her head from his chest to lookdirectly into his eyes. "And I won't try to run away. Ipromise."

Catherine hesitated briefly to consider her nextquestion.

"Did you enjoy it when I touched yourarm?"

"Yes," he admitted quietly.

"If my hands were loving you and I scratched youby accident or somehow caused you some other brief discomfort, wouldyou think less of me or want me to stop touching you?"

"You know it isn't the same..." he began, but hefound himself desperately wanting to accept that newperspective.

He pulled her head back to his chest and brushed asmall kiss against her hair. That was a gesture he used on others inhis family - the only way he allowed himself to kiss her, and he knewCatherine relished those brief moments. For a few seconds he justheld her, seeming to want to say something.

"I spoke to Peter when he was here," Vincent said,a little hesitantly.

"About what?" she asked, pulling away to look athim and sounding concerned. "You aren't..."

"No, no," he reassured her dropping his hands torest on her arms. "I'm fine. I spoke to him...about us. He's beendoctor to both of us, and..." He seemed to be trying to decide whereto go from that statement.

"I spoke to him too, a couple of months ago,"Catherine interrupted, sensing his discomfort. "Probably the sameconversation," she smiled. "The poor man will be afraid to come nearus before long."

Vincent chuckled softly and let his hands fall tohis sides.

"He sees no barriers. He thinks I worry too muchabout the fur, fangs, and claws. He says he can't think of any otherway we aren't meant for one another...that the only two people whoknow us and ever believed I could hurt you are Father and me. Peterhas loved us both since our births and sees no reason we shouldn't betogether." He took her hands in his, looking at the stark contrastbetween them. "But there are no guarantees, Catherine. I've begun tothink I've been wrong. I want to believe that I'm wrong...but thereare no guarantees."

Catherine's heart soared at that admission, evenknowing he still had doubts... and she could scarcely fathom thatthey were having this conversation with no distance between them. Shelooked up at him, her hand reaching to lightly touch his cheek as shespoke.

"We have to work out this part of our lives oneway or another," she told him. "Either way, it won't separate us.There's no way to replace the rest of what we share. We just need toknow. If we find it's something we can't have...well... there areother ways to relieve those tensions."

Vincent leaned his face slightly against her hand,gratefully accepting her words of assurance.

"However," she said flirtatiously, stepping closerand grabbing his vest with both hands, "if it's something we canhave; we should be enjoying it while we're still young enough for itto matter."

Vincent actually returned her smile, a littleself-consciously, but seeming more accepting of the idea than usualand leaving her with a feeling of hope. He pulled her closer again,feeling more hope for their future himself.

"I know you're strong enough to have no real needfor me to be here so much," Catherine said, "but do you suppose wecould pretend through the weekend? I should go back to work onMonday, and I don't want to share you more than I haveto."

He moved her away to arm's length and looked ather with a pretense of complete seriousness.

"I shall fall into a full faint in a public placeif necessary," he answered good-naturedly, bringing back themischievous mood.

"Today I believe you might," shelaughed.

They had dinner in the dining hall that evening,taking care of all the visits at once. With so little time leftbefore she had to leave, her mind was already planning that tomorrowhe would need rest because he had insisted on exerting himself toomuch today. That would give them more time together. She looked atthe number of people who automatically gathered around him andwondered if they would ever have time alone again after this week.Vincent usually didn't tell anyone but Father where to find them whenhe and Catherine walked to the falls or anywhere away from the livingareas of the tunnels. Although his family and friends intended togive him time alone with Catherine, his chamber seemed to escape someof the general tunnel manners. They had come to expect him to beavailable at all times, and appeared at his door that way. There hadbeen times he and Catherine were forced to find another place to talkbecause of the number of interruptions. It was going to be hard toget used to that again.

They stayed late, much longer than necessary,talking to the others in the dining hall so there would be no needfor visits in his chamber later. Finally, according to plan,Catherine suggested he should rest, and Vincent agreed that he wastired and probably should sleep. This admission was so out ofcharacter for Vincent that no one questioned his need for rest. Heexcused himself to go, and left everyone there complimentingCatherine's attention to his health.

Vincent took her hand and started toward hischamber, but Catherine stopped.

"Why don't you go ahead and change for bed." shesuggested. "There's an errand I forgot, and you need me out of theway for a few minutes, anyhow."

"Don't be too long." He squeezed her hand andadded with a playful smile. "It would be disappointing to see myacting talents go to waste." She laughed and turned to go in theopposite direction.

He had just turned back the covers and was sittingon the side of the bed when Catherine returned with a smallbag.

"Was this your errand?" Vincent asked.

"Yes," she answered, "and it couldn't fit betterinto today's mood. The children already have theirs."

"Am I again being compared to the children?" heteased.

"No, just included in their treats," she answeredas she opened the bag and took out two popsicles. He laughed, adeep-throated chuckle she loved but rarely heard.

"Mary did dredge up childhood memories for you,didn't she? We usually had baked desserts or puddings here, but verylittle that was frozen. Now and then we made ice cream or one of thehelpers would send something packed in dry ice. Those were raretreats, and these were my favorites. Devin and I liked the greenones."

"Mary said these were your favorites. "Green..."she announced as she unwrapped one and handed it to him. "I washoping you might still enjoy them."

"You ask me to sit here in my night clothes andeat this in your presence?" he chuckled. "Have you no concern at allfor my dignity?" He swung his legs up on the bed crossed his feet andleaned back against the pillows.

"It does you good to be undignified now and then.I particularly enjoyed the swordplay this morning," she teased. Shepushed her shoes off and climbed up beside him, leaning against thepillows and unwrapping the other popsicle for herself.

Catherine gave him a curious look.

"Mary tells me you and Devin harassed her everytime you got your hands on popsicles. She said you called it abi-lateral attack. Care to explain?" she challenged.

"We would wait until the last bite," he explained,"sneak up and surround her when our mouths were really cold, and kissher under the chin as many times as we could before she could getaway. She always squealed and let us think we surprised her. Later werealized she was waiting for us and was probably disappointed when wefinally outgrew it. We never thought how sticky we probably lefther." He smiled broadly at the memory.

"Why under her neck?" she asked.

"That was about the only place to find exposedskin down here;" he answered. Looking down at Catherine with one ofthose endearing half smiles, he added, "and because, at that time inmy life, I couldn't reach her face...so Devin joined me because itcreated a better effect."

"I have trouble imagining you shorter than Mary,"she grinned.

Reaching the last bite and seeing that heobviously enjoyed remembering this foolishness from his childhood,she decided to take a chance.

"So the game went something like this?" she asked,and attacked the side of his neck with very cold lips. He actuallylaughed out loud and pushed her away, and she leaned back beside himlaughing.

The mischievous mood of the day and the childhoodmemories had conspired to distract him from his normal restraints,and he forgot himself momentarily. Reaching the last bite, he tookhis time with it.

"It was more like this," he said. He followed hiswords with a line of tiny, quick, cold kisses from the upper part ofCatherine's neck to the edge of her chin, accompanied by hersquealing laughter as she tried to push him away. That morning he hadplayed for her entertainment. Now he was actually playing with her.She was thrilled that he had finally opened up to her thisway.

Twisting to get away from him, she moved justslightly and the last tiny kiss brushed past her chin and close toher lips. With no thought from either of them, another brought theirlips together. The mood changed entirely. They looked at one anotherbriefly; then there was another kiss, tentative at first, thenintensifying. Catherine felt a nearly forgotten response explodebetween them. He put his hands on her shoulders, pushed her awayslowly and leaned back against the pillows, still holding hershoulders. Neither of them was breathing too steadily.

"Catherine, I..." She put her hand over his mouthto stop him.

"Don't you dare even think of apologizing forsomething we've both wanted so much." Trying to catch her breath, shesaid, "But you could apologize for lying to me."

Still reeling from the kiss, Vincent now had tofigure out the unexpected accusation. His hands fell from hershoulders and began to slide down her arms.

"Lied to you? What do you?..."

"Our bond," she said, still catching her breath."Maybe you didn't lie, but you didn't tell the truth, either. Allthis time you've let me think that my side of our bond was justweaker. The truth is that you've been closing me out, probablydeciding what was good for me again. When you kissed me it surprisedyou, and you let your guard down. I've never felt so loved or sodesired...but then I felt the fear, and it was gone - just like therages. You realized that I knew your feelings, too; and you closed meout again."

He would have to deal with that subjectlater.

"Does a kiss always give you that much pleasure?"Now he had her off guard. She looked away, a little puff of breathescaping and a slight blush creeping over her cheeks.

"No... All the desire and pleasure I felt fromyou, as well as my own..." Another little puff of breath, and shelooked down and hesitated. "...That pleasure usually takes a littlemore effort."

Recovering slightly, Vincent lifted her chin withhis hand, turned her face toward him, and scolded her softly. "If Ican't apologize, you can't be self-conscious."

She stood on her knees and straddled his legs,putting herself in a position looking slightly down at him, andplaced her hands on his shoulders.

"Let me in, Vincent," she pleaded "You know whenyou give me pleasure. Please let me enjoy what I giveyou."

She lowered one hand to the side of his neck, justbelow his chin, then bent and kissed him again. In spite of hishesitance, he couldn't keep himself from responding. At first allCatherine felt was the enjoyment of touching his lips, of his lipsmoving against hers, of exploring the ways to adjust their kiss tobest advantage for his unusual mouth and teeth; then there was more.He was allowing the bond to flow in her direction, too.

The strength of that new connection took them bothby surprise. Their responses spiraled from one to the other,intensifying what was already there. Vincent's body was rapidlybetraying him; and he knew that Catherine, in her present position,was bound to be aware. Out of habit, and through ragged breath, hebegan to apologize; but again she stopped him.

"No apologies for something we both want," shereminded him, her voice a little huskier than usual. Emphasizing herwords, she allowed her leg to touch him and linger longer thannecessary as she moved to sit beside him, pulling him toward her tokiss him again. Using all of his self control, Vincent exhaled andmoved her gently away.

"We can't let this happen now," he insisted,frustration showing in his voice. "There can't be achild..."

"There won't be," she assured him. "...Part of myvisit with Peter."

"You were that sure of us?"

"Yes."

His hands were on her back now, but she couldstill feel his uncertainty.

"We have to know, Vincent. Why not now? You don'thave to trust only yourself. Trust us. If you frighten me even alittle bit, I'll call for Father, I promise...but one way or another,we'll know...and we'll adjust to whatever the outcome.

Fighting for control, he still hesitated. "I haveyour word?" he insisted.

"Will you trust me to know the difference betweenreal pain and a little discomfort?" she asked, trying to hold on toher own self-control.

Vincent still seemed doubtful. She felt hisreluctance to let go of the tight control he always maintained...orwas now valiantly trying to maintain.

"I won't let you hurt me. I promise." Sheemphasized her assurance by cupping his face in her hands andstroking her thumbs across his cheeks. "I wouldn't do that to you. IfI need Father's help, I'll call him. Otherwise," she smiled, a littlebreathlessly, "I'll be very quiet so he'll mind his own business."She followed her promise with a trail of small kisses down the sideof his neck and reveled in the pleasure it gave him.

That seemed to make Vincent's decision. His handsmoved to her waist and under the back of her shirt, and he took adeep breath as the pleasure of touching her skin washed through them.She took her hands from his shoulders and the shirt was gone, almostin one movement.

"Catherine..." his voice growled softly as heburied his face against her neck, leaving a gentle rain of kissesburning across her shoulders and following her chain to where thecrystal rested. He paused slightly; and, along with the crystal, hesaw the one flimsy barrier between them disappear as quickly as thesweatshirt. She leaned against him, sliding her hands under hisshirt, touching the skin of his back, loving the mingled feel of softhair and firm muscle.

Catherine pulled at the shirt to help him removeit; and, to her delight, he removed it himself and pulled her close,pressing her to his chest. Hands moved over backs and shoulders asthey enjoyed the delicious feel of bare skin against bare skin. Heallowed his hands to touch her the way he had wanted for so long -stunned that she seemed nearly lost in the pleasure that his hands -the hands he had hated so - were bringing to her smooth, warm skin.She was lost in the pleasure of touching him - touching him...something he used to fear would turn her away in disgust. By the timehis lips took over the exploration, they were both lost. With no oneleading, they found themselves lying down, the full length of theirbodies against one another. They had wanted this for so long, waitedfor so long, exploration was rapidly being replaced by impatience,and they moved quickly toward satisfying their need.

At the last burst of sensation Vincent released asound something between a contained roar and a groan ofpleasure.

Even in the breathless state they were in,Catherine could feel the apology forming in him. She simply put onefinger over his lips.

"Are you sure you've never done this before?" sheasked very appreciatively.

"I'm certain I would have remembered," heanswered, his breath a little shaky, but his sense of humor stillintact. "Catherine, there are no words to tell you how I loveyou..."

They heard the sound of a cane nearing thedoor.

"Just remember who called Father," she whispered,smiling.

"Vincent?... Catherine?..." Father called.Catherine answered, forcing her voice to sound steadier than itwas.

"Father, stay where you are. We have an agreement,remember? Vincent is fine. All you heard was the end of a nightmare."She added with a smile for Vincent, "I'm taking very good care ofhim."

"Vincent?" Father prodded.

"Nothing is wrong, Father. I'm sorry if I causedyou concern."

"Alright... well... good-night, then," heanswered, not sounding entirely convinced. Then, with greatsatisfaction, they heard him walk away.

"Catherine," Vincent laughed softly, "You justmisled my father completely without ever stating a singleuntruth."

"You've just made love to an attorney," sheanswered, clasping her hands behind his neck, and in mock seriousnessshe told him, "I'll understand any feelings of shame."

"Made love..." he answered in a tone tinged withawe, followed by a small smile. "Shame is not my most prominentthought. Love... pleasure... joy... gratitude..." he said, lovinglybrushing a stray lock of hair away from her face.

"Relief?" she teased quietly, moving a fingeraffectionately over his lips. "There isn't a scratch on me. You'rewelcome to inspect if you'd like."

"I've never been so happy to be wrong," he smiled,leaning forward to kiss her neck and exulting in the delight he feltit give her. "After what I've just done to you, it's difficult toimagine that you feel nothing but pleasure."

"Not what you've done, Vincent. What we've donetogether. I was a very willing participant, if yourecall."

"Yes. I recall," he responded. "I will recalluntil my dying breath," he added, smiling enough that those longteeth showed again.

She pulled him back down to her, wrapping her armsaround his neck, enjoying the feel of his hair tickling against herface and shoulders.

"I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. Ilove you," she breathed in a rapid whisper, ending with a kissagainst his cheek.

He felt the small gust of her breath move his hairslightly when she spoke, felt it against his neck near his ear, feltthe love and joy and contentment in her, and heard the soundsassuring him of her love. He knew he would always remember that asthe moment he finally came to his senses and fully believed in theirfuture together, fully believed that she accepted everything he was -all of his differences. He felt as if he had been reborn.

Catherine felt the awe and delight thataccompanied his realization and treasured that he shared it withher.

Vincent rose to his elbows and kissed herforehead.

Twirling a lock of his hair around one finger, shesaid quietly, "Now we know that you won't hurt me, and you know thatI won't hurt you."

"I never thought..."

"You were still afraid I might hurt you. In spiteof everything you could feel in me to tell you otherwise, you stillthought I might see all of you and run away."

"Yes," he reluctantly admitted. He moved to liebeside her, and she curled against him, resting her head on his chestnear his shoulder, stretching one arm over him and draping one legacross his. He wrapped his arm around her back and rested his hand onher hip.

"Other men have those same fears. Did you knowthat?

"But I am not other men. I'm something no one canexplain."

"How do you think I see you?"

"I know how you see me," he answeredappreciatively.

"Say it, Vincent."

"Catherine..." he protested.

"I want to hear you say it," sheinsisted.

"You like looking at me," he said softly, andCatherine smiled in triumph.

"Yes, I do." To illustrate her point, she watchedher hand as it began to roam across wide expanses of him. "And nowthat I'm sure every inch of you is as appealing as I thought, can weput those insecurities behind us?"

"Yes," he smiled contentedly, and turned to closehis other arm around her.

"Do you suppose it's possible to die of pleasure?"she asked with a satisfied sigh.

"No," was his immediate answer, accompanied by oneof his small, teasing smiles.

"Why do you sound so certain?" shelaughed.

"Because if it were, both of us would have expiredabout ten minutes ago, and tomorrow morning Father would come in tofind our cold, hard, tangled, naked bodies." He added with a look shehadn't seen before, but hoped to see again...soon, "Neither of usseems cold."

In spite of that statement, knowing the chill ofthe tunnels, he pulled the covers around them. They snuggled closerand soon drifted into sleep.

Vincent woke first, realizing it was morning andfinding that the softness and warmth beside him was real. He proppedhimself on one elbow, left the other arm around her, and contentedlywatched her sleep.

Catherine woke curled up next to him. She foundherself making a quiet sound of pleasure as she nuzzled her face intothe soft hair on his chest, planting small kisses here and there; butshe kept her eyes closed, luxuriating in the delicious, soft movementof his hand on her back and shoulders.

"Do you plan to open your eyes today?" she heardfrom her favorite voice.

"No," she answered. "I'm afraid if I do it mightbe a dream again." There was movement as he leaned to kiss her cheek.Her eyes finally opened to find him watching her with a smile and alook of love that melted her completely.

"It wasn't a dream?" she asked.

"We weren't dreaming," he answeredsoftly.

"Do I remember that we weren't dreaming more thanonce?" she grinned.

He chuckled softly, gracing her with a look thatleft it unnecessary to repeat the question. He loved watching herwake up.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him. "Thatlook?"

"I'm trying to believe reality," he answered, hishand unable to stop moving over her back and shoulder. "Every time Iwoke during the night, you were here, your soft, warm skin againstmine, wanting my touch..."

"I plan to want your touch for a long time."Running her fingers through the hair on his back upward toward hisshoulders, she asked with a teasing smile, "Does it bother you when Imove your hair in that direction?"

"When your fingers touch my skin, Catherine, myfur cares very little what you've done to reach it," he assured her,bringing a giggle and another grin from her.

"Can we keep this between the two of us for awhile?" Catherine asked. "We've waited so long to be this close...Wedeserve some time to savor it just for ourselves."

"That was my intention. I had no thought ofsharing this with anyone else. Did you think me dishonorable enoughto kiss and tell?" he teased. "It's certainly no one else'sconcern...but the way I look at you might give us away."

His hand moved slowly up and down her arm andtraced small circles on her back. "I heard Father moving around. Asmuch as I hate to suggest it, we should probably dress before hedecides to check on me," he told her, and he heard Catherine'sresigned groan.

"If we have to..." then she added with the grinshe couldn't seem to control, "and if I can just remember where tofind my clothes. I think I put them away rather indiscriminately lastnight."

He looked on with amusement as she leaned acrosshim to retrieve her shirt, which was clinging precariously to theupper edge of the bed, and leaned down from the other side of the bedto find her jeans and Vincent's shirt. She playfully threw his shirtat him before putting her jeans on. She pulled her shirt into place,and going to the other side of the bed, found her shoes and socks andthe other two wayward garments. She held up Vincent's pants andthreatened to make him leave the bed to get them before finallydropping them across the covers. He could find his own socks. Shebrushed her hair quickly and found soap, towels, and cleanclothes.

"I'm going to bathe, change clothes and bringbreakfast," she said, still unable to wipe the smile from her face. Idon't think I can look at you and Father in the same room right nowand retain any of my composure...and I hope you can stand to wait forbreakfast, because I plan to take my time. Maybe he'll be gone by thetime I get back."

Vincent sat quietly, chuckling at her flurry ofactivity. "Come here," he said, amazing even himself at hisassertiveness, holding his arms out to her. Unable to refuse thatinvitation/command, she threw herself back into his arms and heardhim whisper, "Don't go yet."

"Not a chance, big boy! He's your father. You'reon your own," she exclaimed quietly, pushing herself away in spite ofher instinct to never leave that spot. Picking up the shirt she hadthrown at him and handing it to him again, she commanded in a nearwhisper, "Put your clothes on. You look much too satisfied sittingthere naked. Father will know."

"Yes, ma'am," he smiled in amusement, dutifullypulling the shirt over his head. She left just in time. Vincent wasbarely dressed when Father entered his chamber, and Catherine quicklymade her escape.

"Good morning, Father," she called over hershoulder as she hurried away.

Father was concerned that Vincent had seemed tiredat dinner last night; so he brought his medical bag, insisting on abrief check-up. He was also concerned that the nightmares might bereturning. Vincent assured Father that he had just tried to do alittle more than he should have, but his mind strayed badly as he didhis best to keep the conversation running smoothly. Father suggestedthat Vincent forego morning visits and lunch in the dining hall infavor of rest.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Father finallyasked him as he put his medical paraphernalia back in his bag. "Youseem distracted this morning."

"Catherine has to return to work on Monday. I'mhaving difficulty imagining being without her again," he answered,moving to sit at his desk.

"I'm sure it will be difficult for both of you,"Father answered sympathetically. "The love you share and theobstacles you've had to face to retain it inspires all of us. It's analmost palpable presence around the two of you when you'retogether."

Vincent smiled, thinking of Catherine's verypalpable presence in his bed last night. Under this morning'scircumstances, maybe her flight instincts were right. Father tookVincent's smile as simply a sign of appreciation for hisunderstanding.

Catherine had gone straight to the bathingchamber, avoiding as many people as possible. She was afraid the lookshe probably wore on her face would be hard to explain...or worse,need no explanation at all; and she wanted to keep this new joybetween the two of them for now.

There were a few of the original bathing chamberslike the one Father and Vincent shared. When the tunnels were firstoccupied, those were created from the chambers where there were warmnatural springs. Bathing pools were hewn from the natural rock toallow the water to roll in one end of the bathing area and out theother. They were like hot tubs - the water bubbling in and rollingpast tired muscles. Those were now outfitted with rails to make iteasier for the elderly to soak their arthritic joints or for thosewith injuries to use for therapy. Occasionally couples slipped inafter everyone else was asleep and had a warm, soothing, romanticbath together. Vincent and Father weren't begrudged their own privatechamber. Father was the head of the community, as well as in need ofthe soothing spring for his hip; and everyone understood Vincent'saversion to allowing anyone else to see his physicaldifferences.

Most of the present bathing chambers were like theone Catherine now intended to use. As the community grew, it hadbecome a necessity to create more bathing areas, and the living areashad no more natural springs. These newer chambers had pitchers andbuckets constantly warming on grates above a low fire. That allowedbathers both comfortable bath water and a little more warmth for thesmall chamber. It was extremely bad tunnel manners not to refillwhatever you used and return it to the grate to warm while youbathed. There was an in pipe from one stream to fill theold-fashioned tub. An out hose took the used water into a secondsmall stream that emptied into the abyss and served as drainage forseveral bathing chambers, necessary rooms and the kitchen.

Catherine filled the tub partially with cold waterand used several pitchers of warm water to make it comfortable. Afterrefilling the pitchers and returning them to the grate, she undressedand lowered herself into the water. Leaning back she closed her eyesand allowed herself to think about the night before - probably addingto Vincent's distraction as he tried to talk to Father. Their firstlovemaking had taken them by surprise. It moved more quickly than herdreams had imagined, but it was still extraordinary. It had quicklytaken the character of impatience and need. Even in that state,Vincent had been gentle and careful not to hurt her. She had alwaysknown he would. They woke later to the freedom of knowing they nolonger had to worry, neither knowing nor caring which of them hadinitiated the contact. That time the loving was slow and patient,experimental, tender...and feeling his responses as well as herown... Mmmmm... Then toward morning...Her reveries broke when shesuddenly realized how long she had been there. Breakfast hour wasquickly ticking away, and she certainly didn't want to cross Williamthis morning.

"Come on, Chandler," she said to herself. "Pullyourself together."

She quickly finished her bath, dressed, toweledthe water from her hair, emptied and wiped the tub, and took a deepbreath to steel herself to meet the world with a straight face. Shegathered breakfast as quickly as possible. With a concerted effortshe managed not to grin as she reassured those who were concernedabout Vincent after dinner the previous night; then she hurried offas quickly as manners would allow.

To her distress, Father was still with Vincentwhen she returned. He was about to leave, but stopped long enough tolet her know that Vincent was to have no visitors that morning andwas to have lunch in his chamber.

"Do your best to see that he rests this morning.No sense in taking chances," he said. He let Catherine know heintended to check on Vincent in the afternoon and would decide thenwhether he should be out again in the evening. "He seemed a littledistracted this morning. Let me know if you notice anything unusual,"he ordered in a very medical manner as he picked up his bag togo.

"I will, Father," she said, turning her back tohim to hide the smile she couldn't smother as she placed thebreakfast tray on the desk.

"Alone again," Vincent joked in a tone ofdisappointment.

"What a shame," Catherine chuckled and leaned downto kiss him.

"I missed you," he told her, enjoying the newfreedom of pulling her close to return her kiss.

"You should eat your breakfast," she grinned. "Ifyou persist in this behavior and you're going to be stuck here alonewith me until this afternoon, you may need your strength."

He smiled and held out his plate.

Walking past Vincent's chair after the dishes werecleared, Catherine was surprised to be caught around the waist by alarge, hairy arm and pulled into his lap.

"Do you know how many times I've wanted to dothis?" he asked with a smile.

"As many times as I've wanted you to?" sheanswered, smiling back and slipping her arms around hisneck.

He laughed lightly, leaning his head back againstthe chair.

"I feel as if a weight has lifted from me and Icould nearly fly."

"So do I," she answered, burying her face againsthis neck and leaving a small kiss there.

"I'm sorry I made Father a part of last night." Hesaid, looking back down at her. He paused, as if he wanted to saysomething else. She searched through their bond for any hints of whatmight be bothering him, then she knew.

"Are you thinking that your response wasn't humanenough?" she asked from the warmth of his neck andshoulder.

"Yes," he admitted, quietly. The truth wasgradually becoming easier to voice, at least to Catherine, eventhough it still left him feeling uncomfortable. He had kept it withinhimself for so many years.

"The sound was different, but wanting to make itwas perfectly normal. It made me happy," she reassured him. As anafterthought she added in a teasing, childish, sing-songy sort ofchant near his neck, "Made you want to growl." She followed it with agirlish laugh and a kiss under his chin.

Feeling the truth in her assurances, he feltconfident enough to again answer honestly.

"Yes, you did," he agreed, kissing the side of herneck and growling softly against it. He found that she liked that -something he would remember.

"Don't ever hesitate to do what pleases you whenyou're with me, Vincent," she said, sitting up slightly to look athim. "I know there are things about you that are different, and youshould have someone to share those things with you. If somethingfrightens me or displeases me, you would know; and I trust youcompletely. I've seen things the most of the others haven't. I'veshared the worst of your rages, and I've seen you at your mostvulnerable; and you know those things haven't changed anythingbetween us. Trust me with the rest. I want you to be yourself whenyou're with me."

She snuggled back against him.

"What do you need to do that you can't do aroundthe rest of your family? What do you need that you think they can'tallow you?"

He looked down at this small woman snuggledlovingly against his shoulder, realizing that no one else had everunderstood him enough to even ask that question. She was reallywilling to accept, and even share everything about him. She wasright. He needed to not be alone in his differences anymore, andthose differences didn't frighten her or turn her away.

"Sometimes I need to use my full strength," heanswered quietly, still a little uncomfortable about putting suchthoughts into words, "for something free, something spontaneous - notjust construction projects. In my adult life no one here had seen mein a full run until the first time I felt you were in danger, and itfrightened them. Sometimes my voice needs the same freedom - I needto growl or roar, openly enough that I stand among itsechoes."

"I'll bet you have a place to go where you can dothose things, don't you?" she asked.

"Yes," he admitted, kissing the top of herhead.

"May I go along sometime...and stand among theechoes with you?" she asked, and smiled up at him.

"Catherine, I can't begin to tell you what amiracle you have created in my life," he breathed against her hairand pulled her tightly to him.

When Father returned that afternoon, he walkedinto a delightfully domestic scene. Catherine was straightening thecovers on the bed, looking very relaxed. Vincent was bathed, dressedand writing in his journal, looking as well rested and content asFather could ever remember seeing him.

"Let's have a look," Father insisted, in spite ofVincent's protests. "Well," he announced, after a brief exam, "youseem fine. Catherine, has he seemed distracted? Has anything in hismanner seemed unusual?"

"No, Father," she answered, standing besideVincent and resting a hand on his shoulder, "He seemed quite wellfocused on everything since you were here this morning." Vincentreached up and placed his hand over hers, and smiled.

"Catherine has been very attentive, Father. Yousaid I should rest, and she insisted I spend a good bit of time inbed."

Before he left, Father pronounced Vincent wellenough to be allowed dinner with everyone else. Catherine looked atVincent in surprise after he walked his father to thedoor.

"Vincent, you just completely misled your Fatherwithout ever stating a single untruth," Catherine teased, turning hisown words on him.

"There's an attorney I keep finding in my bed," hesaid, offering one of his half smiles; then he growled softly againsther neck.

Before dinner the two of them walked to thenursery to visit the children, who were delighted with their surprisevisit. They played a few games, listened to some childish chatter andread a few stories; then they went to the dining hall for dinner andvisited with the adults, again staying longer than necessary todiscourage any visits in his chamber later. They were determined tohave as much time to themselves as they could before Catherine had toleave.

Sunday arrived faster than they thought possible.Catherine's heart gave thought to staying Sunday night and goingstraight to work from the tunnels. However, knowing how much work waslikely to be waiting for her on Monday, her common sense insisted itwould be best to leave after dinner and have a good night's sleep(something she was pretty sure she wouldn't get if she stayed) and ashorter commute to face the week. Besides, if the truth were told,she and Vincent both knew her body could use a break from the lastthree days activity between them. That wasn't likely to happen if shestayed, either, she thought with a quiet smile as she finishedpacking the few things she had brought with her.

"Do you have more of those things at home?"Vincent asked, watching as she started to pack the little basket ofsoap, shampoo, hairbrush, etc. she had kept on the chest in hischamber.

"Probably. Most of them, anyway," she answered,sounding puzzled.

"Would you leave them here? - And a change ofclothes?" Vincent suggested. "I've come to enjoy finding your thingsin my chamber. I'll put them away and you'll have them any time youwant to stay." She smiled, then pulled some clean clothes from herbag and handed them to him.

"I would be honored to have a place in yourchamber," she answered, with an accompanying kiss.

"May I come in, children?" they heard Father callfrom the other side of the screen.

"Come in, Father. I was about to come to you tosay 'Good-bye'."

"I shall miss you, Catherine," he said, hobblingtoward her, "and I shall be forever in your debt for your part in myson's recovery."

"No thanks are necessary, Father." she told him,giving him a warm hug. "I wouldn't have been anywhereelse."

"No, I don't believe you would," he answered,lovingly patting her arm.

Vincent watched this exchange between two of thepeople he loved most in the world with a deep feeling of warmth. Ithadn't been so long ago that they had been at odds with one anotherand he had been caught in the middle. Now it seemed he wastemporarily on the outside. His father had really learned to love andappreciate Catherine.

"I know you aren't happy at the idea," he said,turning toward Vincent, "but Kanin should be here shortly to seeCatherine back to her threshold."

He wasn't happy about it, but both Father andCatherine had insisted he shouldn't try to travel that far yet.Father argued that Catherine would probably worry about him until sheheard from someone that he had returned safely, and that if anythinghappened to him, she would never forgive herself. He said she wouldhave a busy week ahead of her and didn't need the added stress ofworrying about Vincent. As always, Catherine's best interests camefirst; and Vincent gave in to their demands, but not without afeeling of exasperation. He was now tired of being treated like aninvalid, and it was his place to see Catherine safely home. WithCatherine's departure, he was about to become the difficult patientFather had expected to see before now.

Father gave Catherine a hug and kissed hercheek.

"I'll go now. The two of you don't need an old manhanging about while you say 'Good-bye.' "

Catherine took Vincent's hands in hers and kissedthem.

"I'll be back on Friday...probably very late onFriday night. I'll be counting the minutes until I can be in yourarms again."

"I shall count as well," he smiledsadly.

"Hey, you two. Can I come in?" Kanin called fromthe passage.

"Come in Kanin," Vincent answered inresignation.

"Hey," Kanin said, entering with hands held up infront of him, "Don't shoot the messenger. I didn't apply for the job.I was drafted. We both know she'd rather have you."

"I do appreciate your help. I understand therehave been some minor changes made near Catherine's building, and I'llrest easier knowing that someone will be with her. I just find itvery frustrating to be this confined."

"Are you ready, Catherine? Is this one bag all youhave?" Kanin asked.

"That's all," she answered. "Would you mind givingus a minute or two alone before we go?"

"Sure," he answered, smiling sympathetically as hepicked up her bag. "Take your time. I'll wait outside."

Catherine turned to Vincent, tears threatening tospill down her cheeks at the slightest provocation. He gathered herinto his arms and held her tight, then kissed her as if he mightnever see her again and pulled her back against him.

"I already miss you," he told her.

"Friday night." she promised, holding him just astightly. "Only five days."

She backed away reluctantly, still holding hishand. He held her hand to his face and kissed the palm, unwilling tolet go.

"I shouldn't keep Kanin waiting too long," shesaid softly, gently sliding her hand away. "I love you."

"Only five days," he thought. After having herwith him every day for several weeks, it might as well have beeneternity.

Kanin was waiting patiently, and Catherineunnecessarily apologized for keeping him waiting. He understood. Theywalked for a while in silence, giving Catherine time to salvage herspirit.

"So, with all that time together did you get himto talk about some of the things that clutter his mind?" Kanin askedwhen he thought she was ready to talk.

"Yes," she answered, "We talked a lot. How do youknow about his cluttered mind?" she smiled.

"He talks to me sometimes," Kanin answered. "Henever says too much, just enough to give me a little insight. I'venever seen a man so in love...or so tormented about it," hesmiled.

"I think I left him less tormented," Catherinegrinned back. "He's finally accepted a few things I was beginning tothink we might never resolve. We have a few more hurdles, but we'llget past them."

"I'm glad to hear that," he answered.

"Kanin, will you keep an eye on him? Don't let himover exert himself."

"Don't worry," he answered. The whole communityloves him. He'll be fine. We'll all gang up on him ifnecessary."

"As stubborn as he can be, it may be necessary,"she laughed.

A few more minutes of small talk brought them tothe threshold below her building. She thanked Kanin, took her bag,gave him a quick hug and reluctantly climbed the ladder back into herworld.

Starting on Monday, Vincent was allowed to returnto teaching his classes in the morning. Because he insisted on otherduties, he was assigned to the wood shop for the afternoons. Cullenhad a couple of pieces of furniture to repair, one to refinish, and asmall table to build. He was glad to have Vincent to assist becausehe knew the work would be done to his exacting standards. The workwasn't particularly demanding physically, but Vincent enjoyed feelingactive and productive again. He was under orders to stop work by 4o'clock and return to his chamber to rest a couple of hours beforedinner, not an easy task for a love obsessed Vincent without aCatherine. To work off some of the untapped energy, he would takewalks in the evenings. The walks grew a little longer each day, andhe could feel his strength building steadily.

By Thursday afternoon Cullen had noticed thequiet, spontaneous smiles that appeared periodically on Vincent'sface.

"Catherine will be back tomorrow night. I'vemissed being with her," was all Vincent would say.

Cullen, by nature, still had to tease mercilessly.Friday afternoon came to a close just in time to avoid aconfrontation Cullen wouldn't have wanted.

Joe was nearly beside himself when Catherineappeared on Monday morning.

"In my office, Radcliffe," he ordered after a bighug. "Let's get you up to speed on what's goin' on. Geez, am I gladto see you."

"Nice to feel appreciated," shegrinned.

"I take it he's better?" Joe asked after he closedthe door.

"Much better, Joe. Thanks for asking - and thanksfor letting me have the time."

"You didn't give me much of a choice, did you? Isthat all I get? 'He's much better,'" he asked.

"He's much better and so am I. He appreciates yourunderstanding, too, and your concern for me. He was really sick, Joe.I thought I might lose him, and I was too worried about him to havebeen any good here, anyway. I wish I could tell you more, but Ican't. So, yeah. That's about all you get, other than my undyinggratitude," she answered.

"Do I ever get to meet him?" Joe asked.

"I hope so. Maybe some day," she answered. "Ithink the two of you would like each other. Now, about that mountainof paper on my desk..."

"Okay, I can take a hint," he responded, pickingup a small page from a memo pad. Joe handed her a very short list oftheir most important cases with a few quick notes on each one, made afew brief explanations, and reluctantly allowed her to leave to digin and catch up. The sound of his voice stopped her as she reachedthe open doorway.

"It's really good to have you back," he told herwith heartfelt sincerity. He was rewarded with an equally sinceresmile of appreciation from Catherine.

Catherine spent the first couple of days figuringout what had and hadn't been done and what was new since she left;then she created a plan of action, no small undertaking. By the endof the week she had consulted with several others who had contributedto the information in her files, had a good understanding of the mostimportant cases on Joe's list, a few loose ends tied up soinformation on them was pretty well under control, one briefcompleted, and interviews with several witnesses for another caselined up for Monday and Tuesday of the following week. She hadaccomplished this through some hard work and a lot of overtime. Sheate at the office, went home at night, showered and fell into herbed, taking time to be sure Vincent knew she was thinking about himbefore she fell asleep. The next morning she would get up and startthe cycle all over again.

During the days at work Catherine's mindoccasionally wandered to Vincent; but with the exception ofWednesday, she managed pretty admirably to keep her mind on her work.There was so much of it. Wednesday was more difficult because shekept imagining the twinkle in Vincent's eyes as he wrote.Shakespeare's Sonnet 61 had arrived with her sandwich at lunch -noopening or closing, just the sonnet and the bold flowing "V" at thebottom of the page.

Is it thy will, thy image should keepopen

My heavy eyelids to the weary night?

Dost thou desire my slumbers should bebroken,

While shadows like to thee do mock mysight?

Is it thy spirit that you send'st fromthee

So far from home into my deeds to pry,

To find out shames and idle hours inme,

The scope and tenure of thy jealousy?

O no, thy love though much, is not sogreat,

It is my love that keeps mine eyeawake,

Mine own true love that doth my restdefeat,

To play the watchman ever for thy sake.

For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wakeelsewhere,

From me far off, with others all toonear.

By Thursday afternoon Joe had noticed the quiet,spontaneous smiles that periodically appeared on Catherine's face.Her explanation was very much like Vincent's, and Joe teased as badlyas Cullen. By Friday afternoon Catherine finally stopped him bythreatening to leave precisely at the end of the workday and let himfinish that evening's project entirely alone. They ordered pizzaaround nine o'clock, finished their work around eleven, and Joedropped Catherine off at her apartment about eleven-thirty. Shehurried into her apartment, showered and changed, packed a fewthings, and finally allowed her mind to think of nothing butVincent.

When she reached the bottom of the ladder thesight she had longed for all week was waiting. In spite of Father'srepeated recommendations to the contrary, Vincent had insisted onmeeting her. He was allowing her to share their bond now, so she knewhis wants matched hers; but she also felt a hint of the doubt she hadfeared might return. She threw herself into his arms, giving him notime to revert to being shy about anything. She decided putting hishormones in charge might be the best approach; and, sure enough, hekissed her as thoroughly as she had wanted. She stood on tiptoe andreturned his kiss with just as much enthusiasm.

"We should probably go, now," he said as he pickedup her bag. "We have to pass several sentries on the way; and if westay here any longer you're likely to look a littleman-handled."

"Then let's go," she answered. "I've been dreamingall week about being man-handled."

He took her bag from her and his arm went aroundher waist, pulling her closer, enjoying the warmth of her againsthim. She laughed gently, leaned against him, wrapped her arm aroundhis waist, and they walked that way until they neared the firstsentry post. There they separated, held hands and talked about thetrials of their weeks, including Joe and Cullen.

When they reached Vincent's chamber, he pulled hertoward the front of the room, well out of sight of the entrance andkissed her. There were several short, teasing kisses - then he bither lower lip playfully, catching it carefully between his longcanines, and followed it with a longer, soft, loving kiss. As she wasreaching to put her arms more firmly around his neck to return hiskiss and encourage the manhandling, he suddenly stiffened.

"What's wrong?" she asked in surprise, thenrealized he was looking past her. Turning to see what had upset him,she saw Father standing just inside the door lookingdumbfounded.

"Do you find the entertainment suitable?" Vincentasked in an icy tone they rarely heard from him.

"Vincent... Catherine..." Father stammered, tryingto regain some composure, I'm truly sorry...I had no intention ofintruding...I had no idea..."

"Did you need something, Father?" Vincent asked ina tone only slightly warmer than the one he used before.

"I couldn't sleep..." Father answered, stillstumbling over his words. "I heard you come in and only came to seeif you'd like some tea... I didn't mean to stare. Catherine... I'msorry...Vincent... It's something I've always wanted for you... Itwas so unexpected..." Running his hand across his hair, he added, "Inever thought..."

"This should be between only Catherine and me,"Vincent interrupted firmly.

"I'm very sorry, children," Father said again."I'll go now. Go back to... whatever you were doing..." With that hemanaged an awkward and hasty retreat.

Vincent pulled the screen across the door andreturned to Catherine. She waited until she was sure Father was backin his chamber before bursting into quiet laughter. "Do you supposehe can sleep now?" she chuckled.

"There are two possibilities," Vincent smiled."One is that he will sleep well knowing that his son is happy," hesaid, lifting Catherine in his arms and walking toward thebed.

"And the other?" she asked, grinning.

"He may never sleep again," Vincent answered,smiling broadly and dropping her unceremoniously in the middle of hisbed.

"Do you think we should go and talk to him?" sheasked, propping herself on her elbows, obviously feeling a littlesorry for the older man.

"No," Vincent answered firmly, sitting down on theside of the bed to take off his boots.

"You could have been a little easier on him, youknow. He was just surprised," Catherine scolded.

"I wanted to give him no reason to considerstaying," Vincent answered with an uncharacteristically, roguishsmile.

"You and Devin must have bedeviled that poor manterribly. I see no sign of mercy," she laughed.

"Ah, but I distinctly remember, you said that youlove me unconditionally," he teased, taking off the secondboot.

Pulling his shirt tail out from behind him andcaressing his back beneath it, she smiled with him.

"Let me count the ways."

He turned toward Catherine and spoke to her in anexaggerated whisper.

"You know Father isn't likely to be sleeping anytime soon. We'll have to be very quiet" Vincent told her with a smilethat showed the tips of those long teeth.

"I can be very quiet," she whispered, gigglingsoftly as they tumbled back into the covers.

Later they held each other, sharing gentlecaresses.

"I should go," Catherine sighed. "We've been herelong enough to pique Father's curiosity, but not long enough for himto be certain of anything." She hated the thought of leaving thewarmth of Vincent's body and his bed to spend the rest of the nightalone. "Am I being silly wanting to keep this just between us? Asidefrom the fact that it's no one else's business and we don't want totolerate the stares, whispers, and knowing looks, it somehow feelslike the right thing to do."

"All of the girls here idolize you, Catherine. Ioverhear them talking about us now and then, and they see our love asromantic and responsible. We should probably encouragethat."

"And the boys idolize you," she answered, thenfollowed with a mischievous smile. "Everyone here knows you as a manof moral principal. I've already robbed you of yourinnocence..."

"A deed for which I shall be forever in yourdebt," Vincent interrupted with one of his appealing halfsmiles.

"I'd hate to sully your reputation as well,"Catherine continued with a grin. With another little chuckle shelooked away and added, "Somehow I never expected to be on this end ofthis conversation."

She gathered her clothes and dressed, then soundedmore serious.

"But how long can we keep up this deception beforewe have to admit to it? I've pushed you to get to where we are now,sometimes a little too hard, maybe; so you're going to have to choosewhere we go from here. I love you. I'll accept whatever you decide;but, whatever you decide, I want the freedom to come here and shareyour life and your bed without restrictions."

"I want that, too, Catherine...and you neverpushed too hard. I was stubborn and insecure, and I... and we...needed you to be as determined as you were." He was half dressed. Hischest was still bare when he pulled her into his arms. "I'm still inawe of how much you willingly give up for me."

"For us, Vincent... and for me. You have to getpast the idea that you're getting more from this relationship than Iam. It just isn't true."

As they walked to the guest chamber, making justenough noise that Father would surely notice, Catherine broached anew subject.

"Vincent, you once said that I'm a woman of bothworlds. With the resources I have, I feel a responsibility to give myworld as much of the spirit of yours as I'm able to. If I can find away to make it safer and easier for us to be together more often, howwould you feel about being a man of a world and a half?"

"What do you have in mind?" he asked,intrigued.

"Let me do a little research before we talk aboutit," she responded. "I want to be sure my ideas are realistic beforeI get our hopes up."

"Anything that allows us to be together more oftenwill have my full cooperation," he assured her as they reached herchamber door.

"Then I'll start gathering information tomorrow,"she answered, standing on tiptoe to kiss him once more.

Looking back into the chamber, Catherine saidsuggestively,

"Look at that bed. It's so neat andperfect."

"We could correct that," he chuckled, and wrappedhis arms around her waist from behind, nipping at her neck. "This isthe only guest chamber in use tonight. We're completelyalone."

"Look at us, Vincent." she laughed. "We'rebehaving like rabbits."

"The price you pay for loving a man with fur," heteased.

"You called yourself a man," she said, pleasedwith the sound of it.

"A man with fur." he reminded her, taking her handand falling into the bed.

"This new self-confidence is very attractive," shetold him, standing next to the bed and smilingflirtatiously.

"I'm glad you think so," he answeredmischievously, pulling her in beside him, "because in a few secondsyou're going to need to find me very attractive." With that his armswent around her with an undisguised confidence she rejoiced that hehad finally found.

During the weekend Catherine took time to talk toFather about lists of helpers and their particular skills and askedif he had a master list she could see. When he produced thehandwritten list, she was amazed at how long it was and how manydifferent jobs and businesses and social strata wererepresented.

"Of course, there are others since that list wasrevised," Father told her. "There are children of helpers who havegrown up and become helpers themselves, family members of helpers wefound we could trust and add to the list. Most of our newer helpersare people who were here for a while or those who have familyconnections to them. "There may come a time when the Great Hall isn'tbig enough for all the helpers to attend Winterfest," he smiled. Sheagain marveled at the system that kept the tunnels thriving. Shealways felt honored to be a part of it.

Catherine consulted with Cullen and Kanin whileVincent was busy with a small, brief emergency. She had promises fromthem to do a little research of their own before she returned. Sheput off talking to Mouse because he would want to start right away,and she needed to do some scouting Above before she was ready forthat. Mouse would have to wait. She didn't want to get Vincent'shopes up until she had more information, so she didn't say any moreto him about her ideas.

By Saturday evening Vincent and Catherine wereagain able to spend some time alone. They walked to the mirror poolfor the first time in several months and enjoyed the stars, and eachother. Vincent had not missed that Catherine was formulating somekind of plan; but she wasn't talking to him about it, and he couldfeel that she would share it with him eventually. For now he wascontent to have her with him and staying Below - a luxury he couldnot have imagined being so comfortable with a few weeksbefore.

He stayed a while in her chamber when he walkedher back. They sat leaning against the pillows on the bed, Catherinesnuggling in the warmth of his arms with her head on hisshoulder.

"It's going to be longer before I can return thistime," she said softly. "One of our most important cases goes tocourt a week from Monday, and Joe insists that I handle it. It'sgoing to take a lot of extra hours to be well prepared. I've taken somuch time off, I don't feel I can refuse him."

"How much longer?" he asked, groaning a little ashe spoke and holding her closer.

She luxuriated in the thought that he would now sofreely let her know how much he wanted her here.

"Two weeks if everything goes well," sheanswered.

"Do your best to see that everything goes well,"he pleaded.

"Can you stay?" Catherine asked.

"The chamber next to us is being used tonight.These chambers aren't separated as well as the ones meant for livingquarters," he answered with disappointment. "If I should stay muchlonger, the rumors would start, he smiled. She walked him to thedoor, but pulled him back inside for a long, satisfying good-nightkiss before she let him go."

Seeing a light in Father's chamber when he passedit, Vincent stopped to say "good-night".

"You must have tucked Catherine in for the night,"Father smiled, "Otherwise, I'm sure I wouldn't have the pleasure ofyour company."

Vincent just smiled and lowered hishead.

"I'm truly sorry for intruding last night, buttruly happy for you that there was something to intrude upon," hesmiled, still looking a little uncomfortable.

"Catherine and I have come to some of thoseunderstandings you mentioned," Vincent answered, sitting down in thechair opposite Father's desk and seeming inordinately interested inthe chair arm where his fingers traced patterns as hespoke.

"And how far have these...understandingsadvanced?" Father ventured.

"What we have or have not done or what we do or donot intend to do is between Catherine and me. I have resolved somethings within myself that were standing in the way of our lifetogether. We have a few more obstacles to clear, but I know now thatwe can resolve them...And if you have not mentioned this to anyoneelse, we would appreciate it if you didn't. Having so little timetogether is difficult enough. We don't need to add whispers andspeculation."

"I'm sorry. I seem to be intruding again," Fatherresponded. "One would think an old man would learn more quickly." Hesuddenly laughed - a short little snort. "But I might suggest thatthe two of you keep your 'understandings' confined to private places.The electricity in your chamber last night could have powered thetunnels."

"Privacy was what we had in mind when we movedaway from the doorway at nearly one o'clock in the morning," Vincentanswered, dryly. "What we hadn't planned on was a voyeur sneaking into watch."

"Voyeur!" Father sputtered. "Isn't that a littleharsh, Vincent? Will I ever be able to apologize sufficiently to beforgiven?"

"Your first apology was sufficient forforgiveness," Vincent answered, rising from his chair. "You justhaven't been sufficiently harassed," he added with a smile thatresembled those of his childhood, and he kissed his father's head."Good-night, Father. Sleep well."

Father laughed and shook his head in resignationas he watched his son leave.

Vincent turned at the top of the stairs atFather's door.

"Catherine won't be back for two weeks. I intendto spend next weekend travelling to the crystal caverns. I've beenfeeling confined in the main tunnels lately, and I need a gift forCatherine. Mr. Shelby was here last week, and he needs help inremodeling the storage and work areas at the jewelry store. I think Imay arrange a little help from him in return."

"You obviously want to do this right away. Do youthink you're up to that?" Father asked, looking a littleconcerned.

"I've promised to take Mouse with me to thecaverns, Vincent answered with a short chuckle. "That seems to beabout the only place in the tunnels he hasn't been able to find forhimself. You know he can find his way back for help if the needarises...And the work for Mr. Shelby shouldn't be more strenuous forme than what I've already done here. I'm quite well now. It's time tostop worrying about me."

"That's a tall order for a father," Jacob smiledindulgently.

"Good night, Father," Vincent smiled, equallyindulgent.

That Sunday nothing could have stopped Vincentfrom seeing Catherine back to her building. Nothing could have madeit easier for them to part again, either. As she was turning to climbthe ladder back into her apartment Catherine suddenly felt Vincentstruggling with several strong emotions and realized the mostprominent one seemed to be jealousy.

"Vincent, what's wrong?"

Vincent didn't answer.

"Are you angry? You're jealous, aren'tyou?"

He still didn't answer, just lowered his head; buthis look didn't deny it, either.

"What could you possibly be jealous of?" shesmiled. "You've never been more certain of my love."

"Joe, Jenny... Anything near you... Anyone who cansee your smile when I can't... Anyone or anything close enough totouch you...Your apartment... your pillow... the sun..." he answered,letting his head fall back in frustration. Catherine laughed at thepicture.

"You realize you're being completely irrational,don't you?"

"Yes," he answered, laughing at himself lightlyand looking back down at her. "I'm obsessed lately," he said with aresigned smile. "There are times, too many times, when all I canthink of is holding you, touching you, keeping you to myself, sharingyou with no one, and making love to you until neither of us canmove."

"And you're actually admitting to it," she saidwith a twinkle in her eye. "We've definitely made progress." Shesmiled mischievously. "I have those obsessions, too. You have me allto yourself right now. Hold me and kiss me and touch me before I go.I promise to make this case go away as fast as I can and come back toyou."

Vincent followed her instructions well before sheleft, and for the following two weeks they each did their best tofind ways to cope with the demands of their separate lives, eachfeeling incomplete without the other.

Two weeks had seemed forever. Catherine hadcompleted the case she tried in record time. The trial started onMonday of the second week. On Wednesday a witness for the defense hadmade an unexpected statement during his initial testimony thatCatherine had been able to use to their advantage during hercross-examination, and things came to a close rather quickly. Theparticulars of a plea agreement had been worked out and the paperworkhad been prepared and submitted. On Friday she had interviewed awitness for another case that right now was precarious at best, andtried, through constant interruptions during the day, to completeeverything they would need for Monday. The workday had been long anddifficult, but she wanted nothing to distract her from her weekendwith Vincent. She had worked past ten o'clock that evening, finallyleaving everything in neat stacks on her desk about quarter toeleven. She smiled to herself, thinking Joe could find it there onMonday morning if she followed her present inclinations and neverreturned. Her thoughts could now turn to much more pleasantthings.

Catherine had decided after the beginnings ofVincent's illness in her apartment that she would alter her lifestyle to consider her own safety, and thereby help to insure his.Following this plan, she always took a cab home when she worked late.He was certainly better, seemingly back to his full strength; but shedidn't want him worrying about her. Obsessing about what they woulddo when they were together again was distracting enough for both ofthem.

She paid the cab driver, took the elevator to herapartment, and put the Chinese take out leftovers in the microwave towarm as she took a quick shower. The clothes she intended to takewith her had been left on the bed that morning, so she atesporadically as she quickly packed a large gym bag and dried herhair. She could feel that Vincent was as anxious to be together asshe was, and the warmth of that connection made her accelerate herpreparations. She locked the apartment door, breathing a sigh ofrelief that Joe hadn't called with some new problem before she hadmade her escape. In the basement she locked the door of the storageroom behind her, maneuvered her way through the hidden door, andswung herself down the ladder. Reaching the bottom, she was a littledisappointed that Vincent wasn't waiting for her. An emergency, shesupposed, because she could still feel his impatience to be with her.She would just put her things in the guest quarters and wait for himin his chamber.

The thought of being with him again, of touchinghim... Not knowing exactly where the sentries were hidden, she triedto appear unhurried as she approached the main hub of the tunnels,but as she neared his chamber, the strength of her fantasies wasoverwhelming. It was becoming more difficult to tell which were hisand which ones she was creating on her own. Two years ago she wouldnever have believed she could imagine herself into such a state. Shestarted to head for the guest chamber, but her sense of Vincent drewher to his chamber instead.

When she arrived at his door, the room was nearlydark, lit only by the torch glow through the stained glass window;but she knew he was there. She put her bag down near thedoor.

"Vincent?" she called softly.

"I'm here." he answered. As her eyes adjusted tothe dark, she realized he was in bed, propped on one elbow,apparently wearing only his tawny, furry splendor.

"Have my thoughts been that obvious?" shechuckled. "...Apparently your self-confidence is no longer aproblem."

"Are you about to tell me that I've misread yourintent?" he asked smoothly. "The closer you came to my chamber, theless I could afford to be seen in public places, so I waited for youhere," he smiled.

Illustrating the accuracy of his understanding,she pulled the screen across the doorway, left her clothing in aforgotten heap, and slipped under the covers he held up ininvitation. She moved close enough to give him a kiss then wriggledinto a position to pull him above her, enjoying his weight on her andthe caress of soft hair against her skin. "Now?" he asked.

"Now," she answered.

Catherine took in a deep breath of pleasure as hemoved slowly, gently, deliberately, until he was very completelywhere she had imagined him from the time she left work. Nothing washurried. Their last weekend had been lust and passion. This wassimply love - wanting to be as close as they could be. Theirmovements against one another were subtle and sometimes teasing,accompanied by small, quiet, creatively placed kisses, soft touches,smiles, and short, nearly whispered bits of conversation. They heldeach other that way for a long time, allowing the pleasure of thatintimacy to wash through the bond between them. Finally one kissignited the passion that always seemed to be just below the surfaceand took them to the inevitable end of their lovemaking. Vincentrested on his elbows above her, both of them recovering in itsaftermath.

"Mmmmm..." she sort of growled, "do you have anyidea what a disappointment one of those normal men would be afteryou?"

His answer was a quite thorough kiss ofappreciation. She snuggled against him, hating to think of beinganywhere else. His arms closed around her echoing her feelings; andthey held each other and talked softly about nothing in particular -just finding excuses not to part.

Catherine eventually yielded toreality.

"Some of the others will be up soon. If we intendto keep this between the two of us, I'd better move into the guestchamber," she said, already feeling the sting of having to leave him.They reluctantly left the warmth of the covers and dressed; then theymade their way to the guest chamber, checking the passage and movingquietly, like two teenagers sneaking in late.

"You could stay here," Catherine suggestedplayfully. "We could say you came early to go for a walk beforebreakfast."

"You need rest, Catherine. I'll tuck you in andplace enough distance between us to allow it," he answered with asmile. He helped her into her nightgown, momentarily weakening hisresolve, and she climbed into bed with a pout. When he pulled thecovers up around her shoulders and kissed her forehead, her armscircled his neck and pulled him down for a more gratifying kissbefore she let him go.

"I'll wake you for breakfast," he said, forcinghimself to leave.

Vincent had felt Catherine's exhaustion andallowed her to sleep later than usual on Saturday. When she openedher eyes, he was standing in the doorway with his arms folded,looking amused.

"I thought you might sleep until tomorrow," heteased. She picked up her watch from the bedside table and checkedthe time.

"It's almost noon! Why didn't you wake me?" shescolded.

"You needed sleep, and I've been busy," heanswered. "But apparently I have no duties between now and tomorrownight. The work load is rather light, and it seems that no one thinksI would be worth working with while you're here anyway; so I thoughtyou might like to walk to the falls. William packed a lunch for us ifyou're hungry."

"Give me about twenty minutes to pull myselftogether. Lunch at the falls sounds wonderful," she answered, sittingup. "I'll meet you in your chamber. You won't need our bond to letyou know I'm on the way. You'll hear my stomach growling."

He smiled broadly at her enthusiasm and left herto her preparations.

She realized suddenly that he was wearing theclothes he wore to her balcony for their anniversary - and enjoyedthe freedom of thinking openly about how good he looked in them. Forsome reason she didn't understand, Catherine had brought a nice pantsoutfit with her this trip - dressy pants, a soft, warm sweater and aturtle neck, and dressy but comfortable walking shoes. She smiled toherself, realizing how she had begun to stock her closet with tunnelclothes that still allowed her to dress up for Vincent. Today shewanted to do that.

Arriving at Vincent's chamber and seeing thebasket, she was surprised that her stomach wasn't reallygrowling.

"Is there something in there I could nibble onwhile we walk?" she asked. Then, with a grin, she added, "Last nightfood wasn't a priority." She planted a kiss on his cheek.

"No, it wasn't," Vincent smiled in agreement as heopened the basket. "Here," he said, holding up a bunch of grapes."Will this help you reach the falls?"

"Yes," she answered, accepting the grapesimmediately. "Lead the way."

They took their time walking and talking,Catherine working her way through the grapes, occasionally poppingone into Vincent's mouth. They spent a long, pleasant afternoonenjoying the scenery, exploring a little, reading, talking, and justbeing close to one another. A couple of times others wandered in, butconsiderately left them to themselves before too long. There had beenenough food in the basket that they felt no rush to get back to themain tunnels before dinner, so they made a day of it. On the way backVincent stopped briefly to "let Kanin know they were back," he said -just in case he had been needed.

Catherine sensed that there was more to the visitthan that; but nothing seemed to be wrong, so she didn't mention it.She sneaked a glance at him now and then, and more and more shesensed he was up to something. This was intriguing.

His chamber was dark when they reached it.Remembering the night before, Catherine thought he couldn't haveplanned anything better than that. Vincent had her wait at the doorwhile he went in to light the candles, and she watched in growingfascination as he continued to light candles - all over the chamber.Each candle illuminated another vase of flowers and a beautifullyscripted note defining another reason for loving her. Thearrangements were relatively small, but varied - tall slender ones,wide fluffy ones, mixed bouquets, some including candles, somesitting next to candles... He ended with the candle next to the roseson his writing desk. She picked up the note next to the roses andread that she brought light to all the dark places in his life. Shewalked around gathering the notes and admiring theflowers.

"Vincent. I've never seen anything so romantic,"she declared lovingly as he pulled the screen across the door. "Howdid you manage all this? None of this was here this morning when weleft." Then she realized... "Kanin?"

"He and Olivia returned our favor," Vincentsmiled. "They did all this while we were away thisafternoon."

"And I didn't think today could have been anybetter," Catherine answered, wrapping her arms around hiswaist.

He held her close and brushed a kiss on herhair.

"I owed you something special for all you've donethe last few months. You've become so much a part of my life that Ican no longer imagine myself without you. Losing you would be likelosing my soul. Your love, your acceptance of all of my faults anddifferences, your patience, your warmth, your understanding, yourdetermination to make our dreams work...I have no words to tellyou..."

"You need no words, Vincent," she said placing herhands gently on his chest - still holding her cherished notes. Shelooked up at him, her eyes sparkling. "I see it when you look at me.I feel it through our bond. The only gift I've ever needed is yourlove and to know that you accept mine."

"No, you need one more gift. We need one moregift. Come and sit here."

After leading her to the chair at his desk, heknelt before her and put the notes on his desk to be read later. Hetook both of her hands in his and looked up at her.

"I love you, Catherine. You don't have to be herein the tunnels to be with me. Wherever you are, our hearts aretogether. Know that if you need to live and work Above, I will neverask you to abandon that and confine yourself to my world...but weshare a love we have struggled to preserve. I know that most of thestruggle was my responsibility, and yet you never gave up on us. Youpromised to spend your life as a part of mine. Would you do me thehonor of spending it as my wife?"

"Yes!" was her immediate response. "Oh, Vincent,yes."

Tears of happiness welled in her eyes as she threwher arms around him. He held her for a moment, then pulled away tokiss her and reach for a small box hidden behind the roses on hisdesk. He opened the small velvet box to reveal a ring, radiantlyreflecting the light from the flickering candles - an ovalaquamarine, faceted at the edges and delicately set ingold.

"It's beautiful," she whispered when she regainedher voice.

He slipped it on her finger, and it fit perfectly.He had obviously done his homework.

"I've never seen anything more beautiful...exceptyou," she told him, pulling her eyes away from her ring to look up athim. "Vincent, it's the color of your eyes. I'll have that with mewherever I am," she smiled.

"Then when we are married you may take my arms aswell," he answered, showing her the wedding bands, fashioned in twoparts to encircle the ring on both sides.

"They surround the ring the way my love surroundsyou."

The setting for the stone was cantilevered to sitjust over the edge of the bands, looking very much like one ring. Heshowed her the tiny, beautifully crafted clips that would connect thethree - exactly the kind of setting she could wear in her worldwithout causing too much speculation.

Catherine stood. "Sit down," she ordered. He tookher place in the chair and she happily placed herself in his lap,leaning against him and holding her hand out where both of them couldsee the ring.

"How..." she began, and stopped. "I love it,Vincent, but I feel a little guilty. How can your family...ourfamily...understand such an extravagance?

"I think they will understand," he answered. "Theonly extravagance was my time. Mouse and I visited the crystalcaverns, and I took this stone and several others to Mr. Shelby. Thisone was for the ring, and the profit from the others will return tothe community.

"They needed some remodeling and I needed a ring.I saw the estimates from the carpenters, and I think they regardedyour ring as a bargain. Their only other demand was an invitation tothe wedding. They are both sworn to secrecy for now," he chuckled. "Isketched the setting I wanted, and Mr. Shelby created it after weturned the stone over to his son. Matthew is a fine stone cutter.They work well together."

"You designed this?" Catherine interrupted, stilllooking at the ring from varying angles and again feeling amazed byhis talents. Her answer was his appreciative smile.

"I hoped it would make you this happy," he said,tenderly stroking the backs of his furred fingers on her cheek andpressing a kiss on her forehead.

"Vincent, I would have been happy with only theproposal. You do believe that, don't you? I don't need 'things'anymore. Not as long as I have you."

"I know that," he assured her "It was somethingthat I needed to do. I needed to give you something to show mycommitment - something you could wear in your world where you couldsee it and be reminded of my love. I would like you to wear a weddingband that looks like my world; but it needed to be a setting and astone that people in your world wouldn't question, something of aquality they would expect to see you wear."

She could see that he had put a great deal morethought into this than just the design of the ring. He wanted toallow her all the freedom that she wanted in her world, but with amark of himself to claim her as his own.

"And these gorgeous flowers?" she asked, lookingaround the chamber.

"A helper who was returning a favor," heanswered.

"I'll have to visit all of them next week to thankthem." She sighed contentedly, and snuggled closer, softly tellinghim, "I love you."

He held her as she read all the notes, a tear ofjoy trickling down her cheek now and then.

"I'll treasure these as long as I live," shewhispered.

They sat for a while, sharing the contentment ofthe most important step so far in their future together, softlykissing and touching, gradually kindling the passion that wouldfollow before Vincent took her back to her chamber. She found herchamber dark as well. There weren't as many candles to light, butflowers and notes accompanied those as they had in hischamber.

"You spoil me," Catherine said in obviousappreciation, reading the first note.

"It was your turn," he answered.

"When would you like to marry me?" Catherinesuddenly asked firmly, but with a mischievous twinkle in hereye.

"As soon as possible. Is that the correct answer?"he teased.

"You know, when it takes a girl this long to catchthe guy, she doesn't want to wait too long to pin down the details,"she grinned. "Shall we tell everyone tomorrow? And how do we make theannouncement? Post marriage bans in the passageways? Send messages onthe pipes?"

Vincent was openly enjoying her excitement atbeing tied to him for life.

"I think an announcement in the dining hall atbreakfast would probably work well. Within seconds I'm sure the pipeswill tell anyone who may have missed the news." "Then please don'tlet me sleep through breakfast again," she pleaded. "It's all I cando right now not to run through the tunnels like the town crier,shouting 'Ten o'clock and Vincent asked me to marry him.' Vincent,I've never been so happy."

He pulled her into his arms, still smiling at herexcitement.

"I want to keep you this happy forever," heanswered.

"How does the day after Thanksgiving sound for awedding?" she asked, her voice coming from somewhere against hischest. "I can't think of anything I'd be more thankful for - andbefore Winterfest we could be together any time we want - for therest of our lives." Her arms tightened around his waist.

"Tomorrow would be fine with me, but next week isSeptember," he reminded her. "Will that be enough time to plan whatyou want for a ceremony? The women here would never forgive me if Idon't allow you enough time for a proper celebration."

"The women here also suspect that I would acceptan impromptu ceremony in the passage outside your chamber ifnecessary. I've worked under deadlines before," she grinned. "I'llstart tomorrow. Do you think I could find some help downhere?"

Vincent laughed, knowing she had no doubts on thatscore.

"Probably more than you want," he answered."Mentioning help in public tomorrow would probably befoolhardy."

Catherine leaned back, took his face in her hands,said, "I love you!" and kissed him so joyfully he had torespond.

"I've never been happier either," he laughed,lifting her off the floor and swinging her in a circle. Hisspontaneous responses were happening more often, and she lovedit.

Vincent met Catherine early, before breakfast,because they had decided that Father and Mary should know before theytold the others. They agreed that Vincent would tell Father,Catherine would tell Mary, he would meet her at Mary's chamber, andthey would go to breakfast together. He left Catherine with anenthusiastic kiss tingling on her lips and they went on theirseparate missions.

Father was awake, reading a newspaper a helper hadsent the evening before.

"Father. I have some news that might be moreuplifting than what you're reading," Vincent said casually, glancingat the headlines from over Father's shoulder.

"Anything would be more uplifting than what I'mreading," Father answered, with resignation, closing the newspaper."Murders, floods, old people cheated out of their retirementincome..." He took off his spectacles as he looked up at Vincent."What is it, Son? Brighten your old Father's morning."

Vincent smiled, looking as if his world was atpeace.

"Catherine has agreed to be my wife. If thecouncil approves the date, we would like to be married the day afterThanksgiving."

Jacob rose from his chair and threw his armsaround his son, feeling an overwhelming rush of emotion. His son hadfound the joy he deserved in spite of Father's best intentions. Allthe impossible dreams he'd had for Vincent, his initial anger anddistrust of Catherine, the restrictions he had taught Vincent to puton himself, the insecurities he had unwittingly helped Vincentcreate, the contentment he could finally see in him... All of it camecrashing into his heart at once. Tears filled his eyes as he heldVincent tight and gave his blessings without reservation. Vincenthugged Jacob just as closely; feeling the joy in his father's heartand feeling elated at that response.

"We wanted to tell you before we announced it toeveryone else at breakfast."

"Mary?..." Father started.

"Catherine is with her now."

"I couldn't be happier for you, Vincent. We'llhave to contact Devin. He would never forgive himself if he missedthis." Father was already making plans.

Catherine reached Mary's door and called beforeshe entered the chamber.

"Come in, dear," Mary answered. She was dressedbut still putting her hair up. "What can I do for you?" She continuedworking on her hair and watching Catherine in the mirror.

"Just listen and be happy with me," Catherineanswered with a smile. "I have something to tell you."

"From the look on your face, I'd say it must besomething good," Mary smiled back.

"Vincent and I are going to bemarried..."

Before Catherine could say anything else Mary hadher in a bear hug that hardly allowed her to breathe, the hairarranging forgotten.

"Catherine, I'm so happy for both of you. Ithought the boy would never come to his senses and ask you. When willyou be married?"

"The day after Thanksgiving, if that date isacceptable to everyone. We wanted to announce it at breakfast thismorning, but we wanted you and Father to know first. Vincent istalking to him now. He said he would meet me here."

"That isn't a lot of time, Catherine. There are somany people who have loved Vincent for so long...and have come tolove and respect you...So many people who will be happy for both ofyou... This will be a big event. Please let me help with anything youneed."

"Would you make my dress, Mary...and something newfor Vincent? And I need to find out who makes his boots and get somemeasurements for other things and... Don't volunteer too fast," shegrinned. "I could work you to death."

"Please do your best," she told Catherine with agood-natured smile. "I'm an old woman, and seeing you and Vincent sohappy would make it a pleasant passing. Goodness. I'd better get backto my hair. I have no intention of missing the response to thisannouncement at breakfast."

Vincent and Father called from thepassageway.

"Come in. Come in," Mary answered, grabbingVincent in a breathtaking hug similar to the one she had bestowed onCatherine, the hair tumbling again. "It's wonderful to see you bothso happy, Vincent. Catherine has already begun to feel like one ofour children." Vincent returned her hug, actually lifting her off thefloor in his enthusiasm.

"Careful of these elderly bones, young man." Shelaughed as he eased her back to the floor. "Look at that smile,Jacob," she said, patting Vincent's cheek. "I don't think I've seenthat one since he was a boy."

"Smile is apparently all the two of them are ableto do today," Father answered. He gave Catherine a hug very much likethe one from Mary. "I look forward to having a daughter," he toldher. "My son could give me nothing that would please me more."Vincent thought Catherine's heart might explode with the joy she feltat those words from Father.

"Perhaps we should go and get this announcementmade so everyone else can smile with us," Father added as he turnedtoward Mary

Mary quickly finished pinning her hair in place,and they all left together.

Paying very little attention to what was on theirplates, the four of them gathered what they needed and sat down,waiting impatiently for the best opportunity to speak to theirfriends in the dining hall. Finally, when the majority of the groupwas seated and the influx of breakfast gatherers had slowed to atrickle, Father tapped a spoon on his teacup, and Vincentstood.

"May I have your attention," Vincent more statedthan requested.

Seeing Vincent, rather than Father, stand to makethe announcement immediately created enough curiosity to commandeveryone's attention. He reached for Catherine's hand and took it tohelp her stand beside him, giving a few of those in their audience aninkling of what they would hear.

"If the time is suitable to the council, Catherineand I would like to invite you to a gathering in the Great Hall theday after Thanksgiving." At this point in his announcement he placedhis arm around Catherine's shoulder and looked down at her briefly, agesture of affection and possession no one had seen before. "We planto be married and would like all of you to help uscelebrate."

There was an instant outpouring of cheers andapplause, and a rush of well-wishers leaving their breakfasts behindto greet the couple with hugs and handshakes and warmcongratulations.

The quartet leaving Mary's chamber had stopped totell Pascal and asked him to hold the message until Father sent himan okay. As soon as he heard from Father he had the pipes virtuallysinging, spreading the news to anyone who hadn't heard.

By the time they left the dining hall, Vincent andCatherine were nearly exhausted from the congratulatory responses oftheir friends. Vincent had been right. Any request for help with thewedding would certainly have been foolhardy. They had so manyspontaneous offers and suggestions for their wedding that theycouldn't begin to remember them all, much less consider usingthem.

Eventually everyone had to turn to theirrespective duties, and the crowd dispersed enough to allow them anescape back to Vincent's chamber. He quickly pulled the screen acrossthe door, and they both laughed at the relief they felt at escapingtheir friends and family for a few minutes.

"Well, I don't think we need to worry that theymight disapprove," Catherine grinned, flopping down on the bed torecover.

"No, I don't think we do," Vincent laughed,stretching out beside her.

"That was the easy part," Catherine told him witha knowing smile.

"And what do you consider the hard part?" hechuckled.

"Now we have to plan a wedding," she said,snuggling close to him. "You have noooooo idea..."

He smiled. Pulling her closer, lying beside her,holding her, feeling the joy he knew he had given her, he was surethat anything he had to endure to reach this marriage would be worthit.