Charisma From an idea by Georgina McCracken - United Kingdom Sighing wearily, Catherine dragged another file from the endless pile upon her desk, toward her, and with a great deal of disinterest, tried to focus on the words in front of her. She sighed again as her eye caught the diminishing pile of folders and wished that the height of them against the few she had already tackled that day could be switched around. At this rate, she wouldn’t get through them by the end of the week, let alone by the end of the day. Usually she would have ploughed through her work, tackling each case as it came with a relish that secured her the title of the DA’s best investigator, but not this week, or at least not this day. For this day, her mind was very much elsewhere governed by the way her body was feeling. For last night, Vincent had finally kissed her. From across the office Joe watched Catherine work, if work could be the expression to use. Her mind was very much not on crime-fighting today, he smiled wryly; in fact five would get him ten that Radcliffe had had a very heavy night and was using the pile of folders on her desk as a shield behind which she could fall asleep. Nothing could be further from the truth. Catherine was not tired. Well, not physically tired. Her body ached, true, but not from overexertion. In fact, if Joe could know the full extent of Catherine’s mind at that moment, he might well have turned beet red! The folder before her forgotten, Catherine doodled on the pad at its side, her mind very much on a certain person and everything that had happened the night before. There was nothing out of the ordinary to start with. She had met Vincent at the threshold and he had taken her to his chamber. They had stayed reading for a while and catching up on the few days they’d been apart, then had shared an early supper with Father before Vincent’s intent of returning her towards home. Their time together was always so limited, and Catherine knew that her desk was sagging beneath the weight of some hefty folders for her return on the morrow. Arm in arm and in near silence they walked slowly towards the threshold, each trying to delay the inevitable parting, when Catherine overheard the strains of some music coming from their special place beneath the bandstand. She stopped to listen and her heart hammered with joy as she heard the familiar voice of the singer Michael Bolton drifting down from above. “I didn’t know he was in concert tonight, Vincent.” Catherine had cried with joy, “Have we time to listen to him for a while?” Vincent wore no watch but he knew it was late, and he reminded her of this, that and the fact that she was tired and had a mountain of work waiting for her the next day. “I know Vincent, but he’s a great singer. Let’s just listen for a while huh?” Happy to have longer with her than he’d anticipated, Vincent led Catherine down the tunnel beneath the bandstand, and there they settled down together on the scattered cushions provided. Vincent’s knowledge of ‘pop’ singers was limited, but very soon he was caught up in the words this singer used for lyrics and could easily tell why they appealed to Catherine so much. In fact Vincent was able to apply many of the words to the relationship he and Catherine shared. The relationship had changed from what it had been. At first when they had met they were friends, each caring for the other as such. Although Vincent had been aware of their empathic connection long before Catherine, and although that connection gave him many a sleepless night, he glorified in sharing this with her. To know her thoughts, her emotions, her joys and her sorrows, made him a part of Catherine without being a part of Catherine; that is, without needing to make any moves to deepen the relationship that they already had. The Bond, their connection served to tie them, and for Vincent that was enough. And then had come the time when Catherine identified with the Bond, when she had been able to see into his heart, and had misconstrued some of his feelings with worldly knowledge of such things. From that, Catherine had turned their friendship into something else, something deeper, and lived in the hope that one day he would love her the way a man of the world Above would love her. It had taken a considerable length of time, and a great deal of tears before Vincent was finally able to convince Catherine that all they shared was a dream and he could not love her in the way that she so desired. Now six years on from the night that he had found her, they were again just friends. Vincent liked it that way; it was safer, though of late his dreams seemed to have taken a dramatic turn. And whereas Catherine now gave no sign of wanting him sexually as once she may have done, Vincent found himself bombarded by those thoughts, with no idea of how to get rid of them, except to sever the relationship completely, which of course he was loathe to do. He could not know of course that Catherine was very patiently waiting. Or that she had very remarkably clamped down on the intense feelings she had for him, praying daily that the first move would be made by him whenever he finally drew the conclusion that their dream could become reality. He allowed her to spend more time in his world now, spending long weekends and sometimes the odd week down in the tunnels. But Catherine was unable to spend the time solely in his company lest she gave her very carefully laid plans away. And so she would spend time with Father, or Rebecca or Jamie, or one of the other tunnel residents, fitting in with Vincent’s family, glad only to be close to the source of her true devotions rather than being Above. At least that way she would catch odd glimpses of him that would fire her blood, though she clamped down on the Bond at such times. Sometimes she felt that she should be nominated for an Oscar for her very clever acting, because Vincent appeared totally unaware of her emotions toward him. Emotions that had escalated to boiling point over the passing years and emotions if not tended to soon would very likely blow up in both their faces and cause a very traumatic situation. Catherine wondered about that a lot. If and when she should let herself down, if and when she should give him an inkling of her deep love for him, she wondered how he would react to that. It could go either way. It could totally destroy all that they had or it could be the final testing point of their relationship. Vincent, she knew, was happy with their steady friendship, but from time to time through his dreams she caught glimpses of other things. Things perhaps he was unaware of, and things from which he had no experience were clumsy but told her that his feelings toward her were shifting from the platonic to the passionate. This filled Catherine with hope and joy, and fired her with fresh patience. All she had hoped for and yearned for would be realised if she allowed Vincent to recognise the need for himself and was there for him when he did . Her thoughts very much wrapped up in the music they were listening to, Catherine could only dream that Vincent would absorb the lyrics to some of the most beautiful love songs she had listened to in a long time. Knowing Vincent, he would take the words to heart, and Catherine hoped that they had not missed one very special song from this singer that would not fail to stir Vincent or to make him react to them. They listened for some time, heads drawn back, eyes closed absorbing the music, letting it fill their hearts, when Vincent became aware of a stillness in Catherine, as if she waited for—no, yearned for—something. For a split moment he became agitated, fearing that Catherine’s heart had altered towards him once again. But before he’d had a chance to explore along the fine planes of their Bond a fresh song began from Above, and from the smile deepening upon Catherine’s face, it was one she loved very much. Vincent stilled himself to listen, wanting to share something that appealed to her so much, and was forever after glad that he did. Every word went straight as an arrow to his heart. You are the candle Love’s the flame A fire that burns through wind and rain Shining love on this heart of mine Till the end of time You came to me like the dawn through the night Just shining like the sun Out of my dreams and into my life You are the one You are the one. Every word was so poignantly true that Vincent held a hand against his heart as he drew the words into his mind. The chorus confused him a little until he understood, and then he identified with that too. I said I loved you but I lied ‘Cos this is more than love I feel inside I said I loved you but I was wrong ‘Cos love could never ever feel so strong I said I loved you but I lied. His heart racing, Vincent stole another look at Catherine. Her eyes were still close, and her smile had deepened. She loved this song, it held meaning for her. Vincent could relate to that; it held meaning for him too now. He stilled to listen to the remainder of the song; his heart beating faster and faster as if he was exerting himself, while at the same time filled with joy that overflowed. In all my soul I tried in vain How can mere words my heart explain This taste of heaven so deep so true That I’ve found in you. For so reasons and so many ways My life has just begun Need you forever And I need you to stay You are the one You are the one Said I loved you but I lied… Vincent’s heart hammered in his chest, and his breath came in rasping pants as the words brought a wealth of crashing emotions down on him. Like a veil lifted or a blind man given sight, everything became crystal clear to him, and he turned slowly as the song continued to watch Catherine’s cherished face absorbing the haunting melody. “Catherine,” he whispered, and watched her eyelids flutter open, her eyes when they met his filled with an unbearable longing that he had not seen there in the best part of three years. And he realised at that moment how much he had missed those eyes. For even though Catherine’s desire for him was at one time a constant reminder of their differences, he again reacted with amazement that they could be directed at him. That Catherine could see him as any other man or that she could want him as any other man. Yes, Vincent might have thought he had very cleverly moulded a safe haven for himself, but he had to admit he had missed the dangerous liaisons he had so often found himself in whenever Catherine had been near. Guarded again, the look was gone, very cleverly concealed, leaving Vincent wondering about that, but having gotten her attention, he thought he would think about that later. For now, wrapped upon the wings of a beautiful song, there was something Vincent needed to do very much. “Vincent.” Catherine had regained her composure remarkably well. She had almost given herself away. She waited for him to speak, but he seemed only to want to look at her. He said nothing but his eyes were altering before her very eyes, and they were filling with something Catherine had dreamed of for so long…she gasped unable to believe it… it was….It was….desire? Her heart hammering, Catherine continued to stare at him and waited, hardly daring to breathe, and she jumped a little when his hand (that she hadn’t even noticed leave his lap) traced the line of her cheek. Catherine shivered as his hand travelled on past her ear round to the nape of her neck and drew her face toward him and her mouth dropped open a mere fraction in surprise as his intent became plain. “Catherine,” he whispered again as his lips met hers so softly and with such reverence, and then ignited against her mouth, the pressure increasing as his hold on her grew stronger. For many moments Catherine was left spellbound and breathless. Blinking rapidly she but saw nothing but Vincent’s face pressed to her own, his cheek touching her cheek, the pressure of his hand behind her head holding her to him, his unique mouth making contact with her lips and Catherine’s emotions soared. She returned the kiss with equal pressure, moulding her mouth to his, joyous when a groan was wrenched from his soul. Her hands made their way behind his head to feast upon his mane of hair just as she had always dreamed of doing, her fingers tangling in the long tresses. Catherine moaned his name as the kiss continued, and became only slightly aware of Vincent shuffling forward and taking her down with him to the cushions beneath their elbows. Thus lying half over her he continued this wondrous exploration of Catherine’s delicious mouth. Vincent was lost in a rapture so great he never wanted to return, and that Catherine was returning his kisses with equal fervour did not at that moment register. He knew only that he could not get enough of her sweetness. That her blood was singing through her veins Vincent did not seem to notice, only that his pounded against his ears like relentless crashing waves in a storm as her tongue crept into the soft cleft of his upper lip and spun his mind into infinity. Above them the concert was ending, but neither noticed, and each would forever after wonder just how far their passions would have raged that night had it not of been for the sudden thunderous applause from the overhead audience. Shocked, Vincent and Catherine pulled apart each staring at the other for long moments with disbelief creeping into every crevice of their racing minds and hearts. And then the veil came back. Suddenly without warning Vincent’s impassioned eyes were filled with suspicion and denial and Catherine’s heart was bleeding. What should she have done? Having held her emotions at bay for so long what could she have done in the circumstances? Refused him? Pushed him away when he had started kissing her? And if she had what would that have done to him? But now as he stared at her so accusingly, she felt that perhaps she should have done any one of those things. For now he knew that the emotions she had guarded and had kept a close secret for so long had never really left her. Had shimmered and bubbled just beneath the surface ready for such a moment. Catherine wanted to cry. For whatever reason Vincent had behaved so out of character before her very eyes she could tell now that he was building up a wall of denial even as he continued to stare at her. But Catherine couldn’t bear to hear what he might say. She scrambled to her feet. “Take me home, Vincent. It’s late.” Wordlessly he followed her up, but she did not wait for him lest he saw the tears that she brushed furiously away. She marched on ahead knowing he was several paces behind, and knowing also that he was reluctant to keep pace with her. Catherine arrived at the threshold long before him, but could not just march up the steps without at least saying something, even if it was only goodnight. Vincent had closed off the bond she shared with him, as she had suspected he would so there was no way that Catherine could tell what he might be feeling in his heart. But she waited for him to catch up with her, hoping she might glean something from his eyes at least. As he approached Catherine smiled somewhat shakily, saying the only thing she could think of to bring them back onto a platonic level. “Did you enjoy the music, Vincent?” His answer stunned her. “Yes, Catherine. The words were very beautiful, as are you.” They stared at one another, Catherine’s heart racing. She thought he might kiss her again, but his eyes wore an expression she couldn’t fathom. There was a certain humour there and for that she was happy, but other than that his face was expressionless, even broody perhaps. Catherine could not think of a suitable answer that would not stop her voice from trembling so she smiled, and turned towards the ladder, stunned again when he called her back, “Catherine?” She turned watching while he seemed to make a decision about something. “Yes.” She whispered. “Will you meet me tomorrow? Here, eight o’clock?” Catherine thought she detected nervousness and hope in his voice. She nodded, unable to speak and turned for the ladder again. It was an effort to climb, for her legs suddenly felt as if they would not support her body as shock from all that had transpired started to settle in. Well there was no such shock now. As Catherine thought over every inch of the previous night, the pile of folders became her worst enemy and she flogged them relentlessly, wishing for five p.m. even at eleven a.m., until she heard a cheery voice sound at one side of her. “Glad you’re not behind the wheel of a car, Radcliffe.” Catherine stopped using the invisible machete she was taking to the files and glanced up, the question ‘why?’ in her eyes. Joe grinned. “A temper like that could cause a pile up. Care to talk about it?” Joe did not expect the mischievous glint that formed in her eye, anything but that. “I’m not angry, Joe.” “You’re not…you could have fooled me, Radcliffe.” His smile lit his eyes. “What is it then, frustration speaking?” He laughed, surprised at the frown that crossed his partner’s features suddenly. And he had an embarrassing feeling that he’d hit the spot and his mind somersaulted in finding a possible cause. “You’re fed up working here?” He ventured. Catherine’s eyes sparkled. “No Joe, nothing like that.” She drew another file toward her, but Joe stayed her hand. “What is it, then? Personal stuff?” They had seldom talked about anything like that, but after six years of working together they virtually knew each other inside out. Catherine smiled, “Something like that Joe.” Joe nodded in understanding. He had finally met Vincent the year before and owed his life to him, when Vincent had appeared as Joe and Catherine had got into a very sticky situation during a stakeout. “Anyone can see how much the guy loves you, Cathy, but you have to admit he has a point. He is different.” Joe shook his head with sympathy. “It is very possibly a no-win situation for the two of you,” he told her sadly. Catherine smiled lazily, saying nothing. Joe caught her drift. “Something’s changing?” he sounded incredulous. Catherine nodded and then a frown appeared on her face. Joe read between the lines. “Something is changing, but not fast enough in your estimation?” He chuckled. “Yes and no, Joe.” He thought again, Catherine’s execution on the files increasing now. “Like to take the afternoon off, Radcliffe?” Catherine’s eyes opened wide, and she nodded furiously. Joe laughed, he checked his watch. “See what you can clear before twelve, Radcliffe; if you can get this pile anywhere near level with that pile, then you’re free to go.” As he walked away, Joe laughed as Catherine started flipping through the pages of the file in front of her and scribbling down notes faster than he had ever seen anyone write anything in all his life. *** *** *** Vincent was surprised when he read Catherine’s note asking him to meet her earlier than expected. His heart tripped with anticipation, excitement and unease. He had felt her turbulent emotions all day and had wondered how he could ever have been so blind to have believed that the feelings she had cherished three years earlier had waned toward him. He could see now that they had continued to smoulder and were just waiting for an opportunity to be fanned into flame. And last night his kiss had certainly ignited the spark that was sending her hurrying toward him several hours earlier than planned. Excusing himself from Father, where he had been helping to categorise some books, Vincent went to his chamber to think and to open the Bond he shared with Catherine, unafraid for the first time since knowing her, to fully know her thoughts. Yet even so those thoughts shocked him. Above in her apartment, Catherine showered. Her hands trailing delicious lines of foam across her sensitised body, she imagined they were Vincent’s hands upon her and the silky feel of the soap was the hardness of his body tight against her own. Below Vincent gasped, his breath coming in short sharp pants as he saw clearly Catherine’s passionate thoughts and glorified in them. He looked around his chamber quickly, clearly knowing that he could not bring her here. He had to choose another place somewhere special and somewhere secret. There was no use pretending anymore that what he had started the evening before was not going to escalate into something deeper the moment they clapped eyes on one another. Picking up his cloak Vincent made his way towards the mirror pool, dismissing it instantly as too public. Next he went to the Chamber of the Falls. That too was a public place, but just behind the falls themselves, he knew of a cavern that he hadn’t visited in a long time, and as far as he was aware, no one but he and Devin knew of its existence. The only drawback was that the only safe way to it was to swim there. Turning and running like the wind, Vincent reached his chamber and scribbled a message to Catherine before asking one of the children to take it to her apartment at once, hoping to catch her before she left to come Below. *** *** *** Catherine read the note with flourish, hoping against hope as she opened it that it was not sent to stall her. She needn’t have worried, her eyes widened more and more as she read over the lines that Vincent had written. ‘Dearest Catherine, After last night we have so much to talk about, but we need privacy. I know the perfect place. Can you bring a towel and a bathing costume? We will need to swim to reach the spot I have in mind. No one will disturb us there.’ V. It was that last bit that had Catherine’s heart a flutter. No one would disturb them there…she shivered in anticipation…and more so when she thought of wearing a bathing costume in Vincent’s company…even more so when she thought of him wearing less than his usual layers of clothing when they swam together! What was he doing to her! Did he not realise that their chances of getting to his secret destination before she molested him were becoming more and more remote? Pulling open her drawers, Catherine searched frantically for a suitable bathing costume, and her brow furrowed as she realised that a bikini was the only thing she had that remotely resembled such attire, and that hardly left much to the imagination. It had been a present from Tom but Catherine had never dared to wear it. Her thoughts cramming for supremacy, Catherine grabbed the tiny blue slip of nothing and pushed it into her bag along with a towel, and just for good measure a tee-shirt to don over the top, should cowardice get the better of her when the moment arrived. That done, she walked toward the door on legs that could hardly support her. Vincent was waiting, agitated and pacing at the threshold, stopping only to watch as she descended the steps, but could not prevent himself from surging forth and grabbing her around the waist to settle her down before him, when she seemed to take longer than he could bare. His thoughts had been chaotic up until now, but one look into those stormy grey green eyes and he was lost and Catherine thrilled to hear him whisper, “God, I love you Catherine,” before he drew her up against him and took her lips beneath his own. His sudden words and actions took her breath away, and Catherine felt a surge of happiness sweep through her as she realised that there would be no going back now. He was staking his claim upon her, just as surely as she had upon her him from the moment he had found her in the park almost six years ago. Suddenly unafraid to share her feelings with him, Catherine moulded herself against his body, thrilling to his obvious arousal as her limbs weakening with desire. “Please take me wherever you mean to take me, Vincent…I want you so much.” She whispered sending jolts of fear and desire coursing through Vincent’s veins. “Catherine, you have to be sure about this,” he murmured against her mouth. “That I want you? God Vincent, how I want you!” His mind and heart singing, his hard body melting with passion, Vincent was unable to move. “My love, my love,” he whispered against her mouth, still unable to free himself from that sweet place. Catherine’s only thought was that she could die of longing. “Please Vincent.” Her body shook with emotion, her need great, her sensitised skin tingling with anticipation, “I need you.” Her pliant response filled him to the core. “I can’t believe this,” he whispered. “Believe it, for it’s true,” Catherine told him sincerely, her lips forming into a grin beneath his beautiful mouth. “It is a dream.” Vincent finally dropped his mouth from her lips, though he could not bear to be more than an inch away, just far enough for his eyes to gaze into hers. Catherine smiled; her tear-filled eyes were liquid pools of desire and love, her hands refusing to untangle from his glorious array of tawny hair. “It’s no dream my love, not anymore; come take me to your chosen place—is it far?” For a moment, Vincent contemplated the journey. They could go via the main hub, but then they would encounter people, or they could go a longer way around and be assured of complete privacy. Either way, he would be in Catherine’s company and having her solely to himself was very appealing right now. Still on a high, Catherine found great difficulty walking alongside him as he led the way carrying her bag which he ruefully detected carried enough things to stay for a week at least. They walked in silence, each aware that words were unnecessary right now, happy to be close, absorbed in their own thoughts as to what they would soon share. All night Vincent had had the words of that song in his mind, unable to let them go. Never had a song held more meaning for him, never had such lyrics set him free. Vibrating through their connection Catherine detected the tune and recognised why all this had suddenly come about. There were many gorgeous songs in the world, she could think of several that might have had the same response if only she had tried them before. How she berated herself that she never had. Vincent caught her thoughts. “There is a time for everything under the sun, my Catherine,” he whispered, and she knew what he meant instantly. That those other songs, in fact any other song might have had the required impact but that wasn’t the whole of it. Logic told her that she and Vincent had just been moving ahead in their own time, in their own way, until a day had risen when they met one another slap-bang in the middle and could fight the feelings for one another no more. And that song had just happened to be the excuse that each needed to do something about their future. “You knew, of course.” Vincent smiled at her warmly as they walked side by side with hardly a hair’s breadth between them. “That you couldn’t fail to react to it?” Catherine laughed, “I only hoped Michael Bolton hadn’t already sung it and we’d both missed it.” “I know I felt the anxiety in you. You have obviously heard it before?” Catherine nodded, “I brought it with me and you can listen to it again. It’s in my bag along with a cassette player.” “Charisma.” Vincent whispered, his smile deepening. “Sorry?” Catherine was puzzled. “Charisma, my love. You knew how the song affected me last night and you brought it with you just in case…” his words trailed away but his meaning was conveyed and understood by Catherine. “It has been known for you to change your mind.” The humour in her tone made him laugh. “I just wanted to make certain that I had it in the bag…so to speak.” Again Vincent laughed out loud. “You, Catherine, can be very devious at times.” “That’s what being a lawyer is all about, Vincent.” Her lips twitched, she was enjoying this joyful banter with him. “Mmm, you should play music to your clients to bring out the truth.” “Is that what the song did for you, Vincent?” Vincent stopped to turn and gaze at her. “There was so much in the lyrics that I identified with…but then you knew that…your timing was perfect, Catherine…but how did you know? I thought I had been so careful in keeping my feelings from you.” Looking up at him, Catherine could not resist kissing his lips. They beckoned to her and she took them, delighted by the shudder that coursed through Vincent’s frame. It was so wonderful to have the freedom to kiss him and know that he would no longer run from her now, even if she allowed him to know of the things that she intended to do. “I should have kissed you sooner.” She broke the kiss to step back and look into his eyes. “I would have known then that you were guarding your heart from me, just as I was guarding mine from you. I didn’t know, Vincent, not really, not how deeply you felt; I only knew what I felt. I only knew that if we didn’t do something about this soon it would destroy us.” Vincent nodded. He was able to see the truth of that. “Yet until I heard that song I felt as though I must have been blind. Those lyrics freed me, Catherine. So simple so true, they freed me, lifted the veil on my eyes. Suddenly everything became crystal clear last night, and all my fears were swept clean away.” “I’m glad my love.” Catherine smiled up at him. “Vincent?” “Yes?” “One day we could see your special place, one day we could swim and enjoy that pastime but right now, Vincent, if it’s all the same to you...” She hesitated wondering how he might react to her suggestion. “Could we make our first time together in your chamber?” “In my chamber? Catherine, you know how busy my chamber can be, and people are not used to seeing the unlit lamp for privacy outside the entrance; they might well ignore its presence and come right on in.” He swallowed convulsively at the thought that presented. Catherine laughed, unable to stop herself. “I understand. Then is this place you have chosen much farther?” “It’s behind the waterfall, Catherine. A spot I haven’t been to since I was a teenager. The only access to it is by swimming there.” “Then how do you know it is suitable?” Vincent hesitated. He didn’t know. When he had thought of it, it had seemed the ideal spot, but now reality seeped in. It could be damp and cold, maybe grimy, mossy; he hadn’t prepared the place, and it was a long time since he had last been there. Catherine had a point, but his chamber was too much of a public place until their relationship was established with those below. Gloom stole through Vincent as his plans for the evening evaporated, and Catherine noticed at once. “I know a place…” she told him with dancing eyes. “It’s warm, and we will be undisturbed, and you don’t even have to leave with the dawn if you don’t want to do.” “Your apartment?” “Yes.” “It sounds perfect, Catherine.” Catherine smiled. Devious! If he only knew the half of it. Relief flooded through her at not having to wear that skimpy little bikini. She laughed out loud unable to help herself, here she was contemplating standing naked before him and loving the thought of it yet standing before him in a skimpy bikini filled her with embarrassment. Vincent looked at her waiting for her to tell him what had made her laugh but she just shook her head, “I will tell you but not right now. Vincent it’s still light topside; should we spend some time Below before our rendezvous Above?” “Perhaps that would not be so wise, Catherine.” He left the sentence unfinished, as a slight blush stained his cheeks. He knew what he meant but putting it into words just yet caused him embarrassment . “Shall we go and see Father perhaps?” Catherine understood the necessity for company right now. To be alone…well she didn’t know for how long she could keep her hands off of him. Vincent nodded. “Yes. Come, I think we will find him in his chamber about this time of day.” Turning around, they retraced some of their earlier steps, and fell into silence again until Vincent asked, “And you really don’t mind about not going swimming?” Again Catherine burst into laughter. “Not at all, Vincent,” she grinned. Bemused, Vincent caught her elbow. “Tell me?” “I can’t.” She laughed some more, this time from embarrassment. Vincent noticed it and doubts started to creep in, but then why would she laugh? He had always assumed that she would find the sight of his nakedness abhorrent, but he had never contemplated that she would laugh at the thought of seeing him so. His silence worried Catherine, and when she worked out what was bothering him, all her embarrassment left her. “Oh, my love...No, don’t think that. Vincent, please not that. Forgive me, my thoughts were not on you, but rather on myself.” Again Vincent looked at her, his eyes pleading with her to tell him. When that did not seem to work he spoke softly. “There should be no secrets between us, Catherine.” “And there won’t be. I promise I will tell you someday, only not right now okay?” Vincent caught her chin in one of his hands, turning her face so that her eyes looked into his. “Tell me,” he whispered softly. “I want to share everything with you.” Catherine sighed, tousling the fringe of her hair by the released breath of resignation. “All right, Vincent.” Bending down to her bag, she extracted the flimsy piece of satin from it and held it up before his eyes. “What’s that?” he asked. “My swimsuit.” “Where’s the rest of it?” “There isn’t any. What you see is all there is. It’s the only one I own.” For long moments, Vincent stared at the scrap of material, trying to imagine Catherine squeezing into it, trying to imagine how in the world it would cover anything respectfully. Catherine watched his face, as disbelief warred with incredibility that any person could fit themselves inside that…thing. She laughed out loud. “I can understand your feelings, Vincent, and now maybe you will see why I was so reluctant to wear it.” A chuckle started deep in Vincent’s chest, coming up and up until it erupted in a full-throated howl of laughter. He just couldn’t seem to stop. Catherine waited until he regained control. It wasn’t that funny really, they could both see that, but it provided the welcome respite that they needed right now to their fraught emotions. Both desperately longed to be alone somewhere, but there was nowhere prepared for them save her apartment, and it was still too light for Vincent to go Above. In fact, it would be at least five hours before it would be considered safe enough for him to even attempt it. After some time Vincent calmed, and his eyes bright with humour, he kissed her long and deeply surprised at how easy it was to just kiss her like that now. As with every kiss they shared this one was no exception. Fanning the ever-present spark smouldering deep in their gut, suddenly flames of desire burst forth licking and enfolding their bodies as one. “This is no good, Vincent.” Catherine accepted the futility of waiting. They had waited too long as it was. Vincent groaned as her hands caressed him intimately. “We have to go somewhere, Vincent. I’m burning out of control.” His eyes when they met hers spoke of equal tension, frustration and need. “I agree, Catherine. Now that I have made the decision to love you, five hours until dusk is way too long. Don’t worry my love, you don’t have to wear that scrap of material.” He smiled mischievously. “In fact, you could go into the water as I would.” Catherine understood by that they were going to return to their original destination, and a sudden thought crossed her mind. “What do you wear to swim in, Vincent?” “Certainly nothing like that.” Catherine burst into laughter. Just the thought of it! “Then what?” Though Vincent had told her many times that he took the children for swimming lessons, she had never really seriously considered what he might wear to do so. Vincent in a pair of trunks would have been too much for her wanting heart to contemplate. As if taking the thought right from her head, he answered, “When I take the children swimming, I use an old pair of trousers…” he paused. Catherine caught her breath waiting in anticipation, forcing the question to come. “But alone?” “When I swim alone I wear nothing.” Catherine caught her breath again, steeling herself to look into his eyes and ask, “What about when you are with Devin?” “Devin and I grew up together, we have nothing to hide.” He smiled at her obviously enjoying her eagerness to ask the burning question. It came suddenly, breathlessly. “Today. What about today with me?” Her words were uttered so softly he strained his ears to catch them. Vincent smiled, and trailed a delicious line of soft kisses along her cheek, down to her jaw and finally before claiming her lips he whispered, “Nothing, my Catherine. For you, nothing.” Catherine’s mouth dropped open in stunned surprise. Less than twenty-four hours ago, this reserved, shy man would have run at the very thought of saying anything like that to her, let alone contemplate doing it. Catherine sagged against a wall, her whole body now a trembling molten fire of longing. And before she had time to recover she felt herself being swept off her feet and held high off the ground in Vincent’s strong arms as he strode purposefully onwards towards the waterfall. For the rest of her life Catherine would never remember that journey. All she would remember was Vincent’s pounding heart against her ear as he hurried onward his intent plain. They had dallied long enough now…and they needed one another desperately. Moments later it seemed Catherine was aware of the sound of the waterfall pounding in her ears, and knew that they had arrived. Carrying her around to where the water ran smooth, Vincent set her down, and with his arms still held around her tightly from behind, he put his head over one shoulder and nodded towards the pool of water across to a flat ledge on the other side. “Think you can swim that far?” he asked her, nibbling her ear lobe. “Not if you continue to do that.” Vincent chuckled and pulling back from her began to take off his clothes like he had done it before her all his life. Catherine could not turn to face him, she knew what he was doing, but found it impossible to turn around. Her breathing accelerated, coming hard and sharp as if she had been running a long, long time. When firm arms wrapped themselves around her once more from behind, Catherine stole a look at those sleeveless arms, her body weakening by the muscled strength, the thick forearms covered in a dense coating of tawny hair, the smooth hairless skin of his upper arms and bulging muscles. Either side of her his feet were planted. Catherine stole a look at them. Long toes tipped with claws framed equally long feet that tapered to strong ankles and a thick webbing of hair tangled its way in little swirling rivulets up to his knees, from where she could see no more. Catherine longed to turn around in his arms, longed to see all of him, but she could not move. He had her pinned against him, nibbling her ear lobe again, causing wave after wave of desire to erupt in her. Save for his arms around her she would have fallen. Literally swooned with her need. “Vincent.” His name left her lips, and she tipped her head back so that his adorable mouth could feast on the underside of her jaw and throat. He did not disappoint her, and closing her eyes Catherine gave herself up to him. From somewhere delicious and far away Catherine became aware of her clothing being pulled this way and that. Buttons undone, zips pulled down, the feel of the cool air of the cavern touching her bare skin, until finally warm hands cupped her bare breasts, stroking delicately over the taut firm tips that hardened further to his touch. Catherine moaned, the sound erupting from her and echoing against the cavern walls, as she felt Vincent lift her again, and bury her against his chest as he carefully negotiated the water, allowing time for her to become accustomed to the cold. Bit by bit, as her fevered flesh encountered the cold water, Catherine drew herself higher and higher out of its touch, by pulling herself tighter to Vincent’s neck. He chuckled into her ear, “Don’t worry about the cold, Catherine. Soon I will warm you.” At that, Catherine allowed her body to touch the water, its silky iciness feeling suddenly good against her hot and feverish skin and in stark contrast from the heat of his body and Catherine wondered if the cold affected him as it did most men. As if sensing her thoughts, Vincent murmured, “I’m very resilient, my love; don’t worry—the cold doesn’t affect me as it does some men, which has been unfortunate in the past. I have had to stay in an awfully long time before these waters could finally put out that fire.” At his words Catherine shivered. In no time at all, it seemed, they made it to the far ledge. “Wait here, Catherine. I will bring your bag across.” Curled where he had left her, Catherine braved the sight of him, thrilling as her eyes touched his magnificence as he waded away from her, disappearing into the water to swim across to the other side, pulling himself up onto the ledge. And then watched in fascination as he threw her bag over his shoulder and began to scale the cavern wall making his way back to her bit by bit on dry land. Catherine’s eyes were glued to him. Hungry for the sight of this perfectly naked Vincent scaling the ledge around the cavern wall, Catherine watched the muscles rippling beneath taut skin, golden glistening fur and firm buttocks that she just ached to see turn in front of her. Her breathing stilled as she watched him, her body continuing to tremble, her teeth chattering. Not from cold, but from desire. He was almost level with her now, and leapt back deftly to land just feet away. He still had his back to her, though he was aware that her eyes were pinned to him. He had in fact been aware of her eyes on him ever since he had deposited her on the ledge. Now came the moment of truth, of glory or shame. Vincent didn’t like to concede which it was to be, but he could put off the moment no longer. Still he hid his face from her in the curtain of his hair as he settled her bag at his feet and turned slowly to face her. The first sound he was aware of was her sharp intake of breath, and he stilled himself not to take flight. He was shaking now, needing to know what she thought of him more than anything else. His erection subsided a little by his shame, rising back to full glory by her exclamation of, “Oh, Vincent! You are truly beautiful.” He did not hear her scramble to her feet, the first he knew that she had moved was when her arms went around him, holding their bodies close, her lips hot and fiery on his sensitised skin. Vincent’s throat tightened with unshed tears and words would not come. He buried his face into the curve of her neck, breathing deeply of her fragrance, his hands coming up and around her to stroke her back tenderly. For long moments they clung to one another allowing everything they were to one another pass over them. In their mind’s eye they relived everything they had been to one another, every moment they had spent together. All those special times, culminating in this…this act of pure unadulterated love. As Catherine felt Vincent guide her, picking up her bag in passing, she walked wordlessly unable to disentangle herself from his frame for a single second. Though this made walking difficult, the pleasantries of the action far outweighed that problem. Soon Catherine became aware that the thunderous roar of the waterfall evaporated into nothingness, as Vincent guided her behind the curtain of water, and Catherine gasped in surprise and pleasure. How could it be that behind so many thousands of tons of water they had found the sound of silence? And though it had been a long time since he had come here, Vincent had never forgotten this aspect of the waterfall, making it another reason why it was one of his special places. “Will your world ever fail to amaze me?” Catherine asked breathlessly, as clinging to one another with mutual consent they lowered themselves to the ground. Vincent said nothing. Right now nothing amazed him more than being here with Catherine like this, and he kissed her long and passionately. It had been way too long since last he had moulded his lips to hers. “I love you, Vincent.” Catherine’s body reacted to the touch of his the moment that he had lowered her to the ground. Here the floor was incredibly soft and sandy, but it was the hardness of this other body that she cleaved to. “As I love you, my Catherine,” he whispered hoarsely, his ragged breathing making it difficult for him to speak. She felt so good against him, so soft and warm…So small! For fleeting seconds fear of old almost gripped him, but he pushed it resolutely aside. They had advanced from there, now there would be no going back. They would love as they had been destined to love from the beginning of time. Yet Catherine had felt his hesitancy, and she struggled to sit up, pulling him into her arms as she caressed his fears away. “Hush my love, don’t be afraid, no more, no more. All will be well, trust me.” “I do trust you, Catherine.” His eyes as lapis lazuli smouldered blue as he gazed back lovingly at her, “but all this…” he swept his arm to encompass the area they lay, “and being here…with you…like this…is so…” he had no words to express that feeling. “Unbelievable?” “Yes, Catherine.” Vincent agreed. “Unbelievable.” Reaching to her bag, Catherine fumbled with the fastener, “There is something I must do, Vincent.” He waited wondering what that might be. His mind raced. From Father’s medical journals, he knew that women often used things to prevent pregnancy. Vincent stilled her arm. “Catherine.” She stopped what she was doing turning to look into his eyes. “Everything I have is yours.” Would she understand without his saying it in too many words? Catherine looked at him hard, dawning apparent in the light from his eyes. “Everything, Vincent?” “I know your needs, Catherine. All of them. I want to hold nothing back from you.” “But Vincent…” “No buts, Catherine…no denials…not anymore…. I love you, what you want I want also.” Catherine hoped she knew what he meant, but she had to have it confirmed, had to hear it, had to know they were talking about the same thing. “A child, Vincent?” Never removing his gaze from hers, Vincent nodded. “Yes, Catherine, a child. If it is possible.” Catherine closed her eyes as love swept through and over her in warm luscious waves. “Oh, Vincent!” He was making her every dream come true. “I love you so very much.” Removing her hand from the bag to enforce his point, Vincent was surprised when Catherine fought his hold, “No wait, not that Vincent. That device can stay there. There is something else I would like to take out of my bag.” Vincent watched as Catherine pulled a slim black box with various control buttons. She held it up to him to see, in the dim light that seemed to come through the curtain of water before them. “See, a tape recorder. I thought we could make love surrounded by the song that made all of this possible.” Vincent nodded. “Yes, Catherine, that would be perfect.” Pressing the button to start the music, Catherine lowered the cassette and herself back to the ground, where Vincent soon followed her, their lips meeting in a fiery exchange almost at once, as the lyrics and the music surrounded them. Finally their bodies moved in perfect harmony to the music and Vincent and Catherine’s bodies became as one, sinking into one another in glorious abandon as the words that had set Vincent free settled around them…. You came to me like the dawn through the night Just shining like the sun Out of my dreams and into my life You are the one... You are the one... At last - a happy life had begun for the both of them, together, forever, just as they had dreamed.