You Can't Run Away From Love Part Two Catherine hadn’t spent a very good night. To her, Vincent had seemed so withdrawn and she worried about that incessantly. Still believing her note was at the root of the problem, she chided herself repeatedly on sending it to him. She had in effect taken the coward’s way out in doing so at all, believing that he would at least have to confront the matter once he knew it was on her mind. Pressing hard onto her writing pad with her pencil, she visibly jumped when the tip snapped off, and she set about wiping the tiny shards of lead off the pad and into the nearest waste bin. Behind her, edging slowly toward her desk, came Edie. She too had spent a sleepless night, and now as she approached her friend’s back, Edie found a merit of strength that she was afforded the chance of approaching Catherine and having the chance to compose herself before her friend turned around and saw her. Catherine was still bending over the waste bin, as Edie spoke a trifle nervously. “H—Hi, Cath...y.” Catherine turned in her chair, swiveling it around to face the other woman. “Hi Edie. Oooh, you look terrible.” “Thanks. You don’t look so good yourself. Problems?” “So-so.” Catherine was not feeling much like talking today. “Same old same old?” Catherine nodded. Edie reached for the nearest chair. “No change in him, nothing?” Catherine eyed the other occupants of her office, and kept her voice low. “He came to see me and he was different, but whether it’s a good difference or a bad difference I have to wait until later to know. He seemed distant somehow, like he had a problem that weighed heavily on his mind.” “Gee, I’m sorry, Cathy.” Catherine eyed her friend speculatively. “You say that as if you are to blame,” Catherine laughed. “It has nothing to do with you, Edie.” She laughed again, surprised when her friend did not quip some witty remark. Edie’s face grew serious. “Edie?” “You’re right, girlfriend, it has nothing to do with me, but it’s just that I care about you, Cath.” “What are you talking about?” Catherine grinned at her. “Say, have you had coffee this morning?” It was well-documented between the pair and their social group that people who hadn’t had coffee before work each morning were cranky and spoke scandalous things. Catherine laughed, her giggles slowing to a mere trickle as Edie refused to rise to the bait. In fact, Catherine could see now that her friend was decidedly uncomfortable about something. “Edie, what’s the matter?” Edie drew a deep breath. “I did something.” “And...?” “I wanted to help.” Alarm bells sounded in Catherine’s head. She whispered forcefully now, “Edie, what did you do?” The worry was evident in her tone. For long moments, Edie wondered why she was doing this. Perhaps tomorrow would be a finer time to confess. “It’s nothing Cathy, don’t worry.” Edie stood, wanting to get out of there as fast as possible, as far from her friend’s accusing eyes as she could right now. Catherine leaned forward and grabbed Edie’s arm. “Edie, tell me.” Exhaling a big sigh, Edie sat down again, and fiddled with her hands upon her lap, unable to look at Catherine. Catherine’s face brightened. “Never seen you lost for words before.” “There’s always a first time,” mumbled Edie. “So what did you do that was so terrible? Rob a bank? Ask Joe for a date? Ask Moreno for a date!” Catherine grinned, and Edie had the grace to smile before her face fell flat again. “Worse than that.” “Worse than asking Moreno? Who’d you ask?” Here goes, thought Edie taking another deep breath. “I asked your guy to call me,” she whispered. All the color drained from Catherine’s face and for long moments she was unable to speak. Eventually she choked. “You spoke to Vincent? When? How!” Edie’s face rose to meet the accusation in her friend’s eyes. “I sent him a message.” Catherine shook her head, “No, that’s impossible. You wouldn’t know where to find him, how to reach him. Edie you must be mistaken.” “I’m not mistaken, Cathy.” Now it was said, Edie found her voice again, somehow she found her usual buoyant courage. “I watched you hand that old guy a note yesterday. I figured it was a message for Vincent and I just did the same.” Catherine’s eyes widened more and more. “Edie!” She rose to her feet shoving back the chair in her wake, and walked rapidly around to the other woman, who was also now rising. Catherine grabbed her arm. “You, out. With me, come now!” Edie grimaced; this was Catherine Chandler—little Hitler—whom she had met only occasionally in the courtroom. This was a side of Catherine that she had never wanted to see directed her way. Well, she only had herself to blame. So lead me to the firing squad, she thought to herself grimly as Catherine tugged her towards the elevator. Catherine didn’t speak and didn’t stop until she had bustled Edie into the nearest coffee bar and shoved her down into a seat in a secluded corner. There Catherine plunked herself down opposite in a menacing pose that defied Edie to escape. The two glared at one another (at least Catherine glared), Edie cowered for few moments, and then, dammit, her courage returned. “Say, who are you to push me around like that?” “Me, push you? Why you interfering, meddling...” Catherine seethed as Edie took up the narrative, “Honest, reliable, trustworthy, don’t forget those... Cathy, I did it only for you,” Edie pleaded, “and it’s not all bad.” “Not all—” Catherine choked on her anger. “Edie!” “Is it?” “He was different with me.” “Could have been your note - whatever you put in it.” “Could have been yours too. So what did you put in it?” “Nothing much, I wasn’t even certain it would reach him, or that your note was heading his way. I just asked him to call me, said I was worried about you. Asked him not to tell you I’d written to him.” A wry smile tugged at the corners of Catherine’s lips—oh yes, Edie has certainly used the right bait there if she wanted a response from Vincent. “And?” “He called me.” “And?” “Hell Cathy, I just told him the way it was...” “Wait a minute, how do you know it was Vincent?” The question delayed in making contact with Edie’s brain, for she was continuing, “Oh that voice, Cathy how do you stand just listening to him and not want to rip his clothes off?” Her question answered, a smile lit up Catherine’s face. That was Vincent. Edie had certainly made contact with Vincent. A giggle erupted from Catherine at Edie’s words. “With great difficulty,” she answered grinning from ear to ear. There was silence for a moment or two as the waitress brought their coffee, and as they pair sipped at the mahogany liquid. “Oooh, that’s good.” Edie replaced her cup to the table. “I’m alive again now.” “Not for long,” Catherine put her cup down too. “You’re still mad with me, aren’t you?” “I’m as mad as hell. You had no right, Edie.” “Even if my intentions were good?” “Even if your intentions were good.” Silence befell the two again, as Catherine contemplated her next words. Edie beat her to it. “He did listen to me, mind you...” Catherine jumped on that. “Yes?” “Well I did kinda lay it on him. Told him exactly what I thought of him stringing you along like he does.” “EDIE!” All heads turned in their direction, and Catherine frantically sought to lower her voice. “I could kill you,” she seethed through gritted teeth, “and I still might.” “You’d get life,” Edie tried to joke. “There are witnesses.” “This is no laughing matter, Edie!” “Hey, do you see me laughing, you just threaten to take my life and you think I find that funny?” A smile quirked the edges of Edie’s mouth. But Catherine was furious! She rose from her seat. “I know you considered us friends, Edie, but what you did was wrong. There are things about Vincent you don’t know, could never possibly hope to know. And words such as ‘stringing me along’ would hurt him deeply.” “So what are you saying?” Edie rose from her seat too. “I’m saying from this moment, Edie, consider our friendship terminated!” Catherine backed away a little, glaring at her friend, then turned and left the bar. Edie sank back down as her whole world collapsed around her, and her heart broke as she witnessed Catherine wiping the tears away from her cheeks furiously as she hurried past the window. *** *** *** Deep in the catacombs, Vincent looked without seeing, at the immense fall of water in front of him. If he had a dime for every moment he had gone to the Falls to sit and contemplate about things, he would be well-matched in wealth with Catherine by now. But he hadn’t, and he never would be able to match Catherine in wealth. He knew she didn’t mind that, but he did. He had nothing with which to offer her, but himself. Yet was that enough? Was that truly enough? So many times, so many occasions he could dredge to mind when Catherine had begged him to believe in her love for him, her unconditional love and affection, her readiness to accept him as he was, her desire for him, yes even that. Vincent marveled at that. That desire, ever apparent in her makeup. For him! A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he thought about all the times that Catherine had unsuccessfully, or a little belatedly, clamped down on the bond so as not to allow him to know of that desire. The first time it had happened he thought he’d been mistaken. But when it had occurred repeatedly after that, and he began to detect the emotion in her eyes, Vincent slowly began to believe. Catherine wanted him as he wanted her, as he had always wanted her, from that very first moment he had brought her into his world. It was hard for him to admit that even to himself, least of all to Catherine. But now after receiving her note and after that disturbing conversation with her friend Edie, Vincent was forced to confront the issue. Edie had said Catherine was hurting. Vincent knew that. Had known it for some time, but had chosen to ignore it, hoping it would go away. He knew that it had not gone away; he knew that every time he and Catherine were together, the feeling had intensified, making it harder and harder for Catherine to hide it away in the corner of her heart reserved for such emotions. He’d hoped that she might meet another man to love; he’d told her often enough that this was her destiny, but he faced the fact now that it would kill him if that ever happened. And besides how many times did Narcissa wish to bang his head against the wall and tell him that Catherine had already met her destiny in him? If he was fighting against destiny, then sending her away would never be achieved. Edie’s untimely, or was it timely intervention into their lives made him have to face it now, and then of course there was Catherine’s note. Funny how the two had followed hot on the trail of the other. Edie must have seen the distress Catherine had been in to have been prompted to do something about it. He should have been annoyed that a complete stranger had been able to contact him, but then Edie had explained that in her note. She wasn’t certain it would reach him; she had only limited knowledge of him and then only because of a book she had seen in Catherine’s apartment inscribed by his hand. Vincent knew little of Edie, but what he did know was that the woman was adept at uncovering information. Well, she had uncovered him, and perhaps more of him than she had intended. Vincent had spent a sleepless night delving deep into his heart, uncovering all his secret desires and bringing them forth into the open. Now was the time to confront his fears and move through them. Catherine would arrive shortly, he could sense her approach; she was already in the tunnels. Vincent exhaled a deep sigh; if only he knew what it was he was going to tell her. He needed more time, but in effect, hadn’t he had long enough already? The time was upon him now, their future was upon them. Fearfully he acknowledged that it was time to meet his date with destiny. *** *** *** “Good morning, Catherine... I didn’t expect to see you until this evening.” Father walked towards the young woman, a plate of scrumptious-looking cookies in his hand. He offered the plate toward her. “Hungry?” “I wasn’t. But they smell delicious. Has William just baked them?” Father nodded. “Still warm in the middle. Go on take a couple.” Catherine reached for one. “Thanks.” “Take another while you have the chance; this is my second sitting, William will have to make some more before tea time.” Catherine laughed, reaching for another. “Thank you.” She bit into the first. “Mmm, they’re wonderful.” “Vincent isn’t in his chamber,” Father told her now, “but if you’d like to wait?” “No, it’s all right, Father. I’ve made prior arrangements with Vincent. He said he’d be at the Falls.” “Well, take a few more cookies then, will you my dear? I never saw Vincent at breakfast; he’s probably feeling hungry by now.” Catherine reached for another three, leaving just two on the plate, and smiled when Father grimaced at his meager supply. “Just think of it this way, Father—those freshly made ones later today will seem all the more appealing.” Father laughed. “Nevertheless, a few extra samples now wouldn’t go amiss.” He turned on his heel to go back to the kitchen hoping there might just be a few left there. “Tell Vincent not to miss dinner,” he called over his shoulder. “I will, Father. See you later.” “Bye dear.” Catherine laughed softly to herself, and extracting a clean handkerchief from her pocket, carefully wrapped Vincent’s share into it, returned the hankerchief to her pocket and continued to munch upon her own share. Then slowly, nervously she made her way to the Falls, amazed that she could actually swallow the biscuits at all. *** *** *** “Vincent?” “I’m here, Catherine.” From the ledge at the side of the great falls Vincent rose to meet her. “Father sent some cookies, and an admonition not to miss dinner,” she grinned at him, unfolding the handkerchief and offering the cookies to him. He took them one by one absentmindedly. “Thank you.” “Take them all, I’ve already eaten mine. They should be still warm.” “Thank you.” Vincent took them all, but did not attempt to eat any. He slipped them into a fold of his cloak, where Catherine knew there was a large pocket. It was unusual that Vincent did not capitulate to the aroma emitted from the succulent fare. He was usually a sucker for fresh cookies, often raiding the kitchen before they were even out of the oven. His keen sense of smell allowed him to know they were baking ahead of any other person. “Have you been here long?” Catherine could see by the pinched look on his face that he was chilled. “Several hours.” “Resolved anything?” she asked as he reached for her hand to lead her back to his place. “No.” Well, at least he was honest with her. “Can we talk about this, Vincent? I know Edie spoke to you—I’m sorry about that, I didn’t know till this morning.” “She told you?” “Confessed.” “She told you everything that she said?” “Not everything. Enough. Enough to know how her words must have hurt you. I’m sorry, Vincent.” “Why should you apologise? You didn’t ask her to take this upon herself and interfere.” “No, but she derived enough from me to know how I was feeling about things between us. I should have been more careful. Should have left my emotions at home.” “You shouldn’t have been burdened with such emotions at all,” he spoke quietly, regretfully. “I’m not complaining, Vincent.” “You should be.” “Why?” He fell silent, unable to find the words to express himself. “Vincent...let me live in your world...with you. Please... I want to be with you. Really I do.” Her eyes were pleading but Vincent did not look up at her to notice. “You don’t know what it is you ask, Catherine. It’s not as simple as that.” “I do, and it is. When I say I want to be with you, it’s not a mere companion thing. Vincent, you know that, you know what I am feeling. You know that I love you.” Vincent swallowed with difficulty, and unable to find his voice, he nodded slowly. “Do you love me, Vincent?” For that, he could not keep silent. “With all that I am,” he whispered, still unable to face her. “Vincent, look at me.” He refused, unable. Catherine took his chin with one hand and turned his head around to face her. She gazed into his eyes. “I love you, I want to be with you, I want you. Do you understand, Vincent? I want you.” He stared into her eyes for long a moment, and he nodded just the once, so slightly that only the movement upon her fingers alerted her to the fact. “Do you want me, Vincent?” Having difficulty knowing how deeply that need was for her, Vincent was again unable to reply. He was unable to question lest his hope was shattered, lest the kind of need Catherine spoke of did not run akin to his own. But Catherine understood. “You want me to spell it out for you?” Vincent shook his head at that, he didn’t know why, but suddenly while there was confusion between them he could continue to hide from this matter for a little while longer. Silence fell between them while each waited, and Vincent was reminded of Edie’s words of the following evening: “You keep her on a tightrope, man.” Vincent could relate to that now. He shook himself, this was no good; he had to say things, had to spill from his heart all the things he felt. Really it was time. “Catherine?” “Vincent.” They spoke as one, and then grinned. “You first,” Catherine told him shyly. It was difficult knowing where to start, how to start. For so long he’d known this conversation word for word, but now the first word would not form. Catherine ventured an opening. “I could still be a woman of both worlds, Vincent, if that’s what you want. Except I could live down here and go Above when needed.” Vincent took up Catherine’s hands within his own. “Catherine, your message read that the wall between our worlds had grown thin; why do you now speak of two worlds?” “Forgive me. I do believe the walls have grown thin, I was just speaking for you.” “Then how do you know that I do not agree that the walls between our worlds has grown thin?” “I’m sorry?” Catherine was confused by his words. Vincent drew in a deep breath, “Catherine I understand, really I do. At first there was just you in your world and me in mine, but of late I have felt the difference dissipating as have you, the gap has lessened, but to have you live here with me, I don’t know if that would be wise.” “Why not?” Vincent sighed, his eyes leaving her face to stare out at the great fall of water in front of them. “Catherine when you say you want me, how do you define want?” There—it was said, and he couldn’t take it back, though, oh how he wanted to do. He dare not look at her. He just daren’t. Catherine almost laughed, almost. She wondered if he was ready to hear of her need, she wondered how much she should tell him of it. She knew that once she had started she might well shock him into running away and never coming back. An enigmatic look passed over her features as she contemplated telling him of her needs. “How do I define wanting you? Are you really ready to hear that?” Catherine whispered. Vincent nodded, continuing to stare ahead, wanting to hear it so badly, yet wanting nothing more than to cover his ears too. “I don’t know if I should tell you,” Catherine told him with a little humor to her tone. “I mean I don’t know how you feel; your need might not match mine. I might surprise you.” Shock him, more like, Catherine mused to herself. Still without looking at her, Vincent replied, “I love you, Catherine, and I want you as a man wants the woman that he loves.” That was an understatement. The burning, raging ever-present flames that licked at his groin whenever he was near her could hardly be contained. Encouraged, Catherine rose to her knees and leaned into his neck, determined to whisper words only he should ever hear, though they were quite alone. “I want you, Vincent, likewise; I want to spend my time here with you, sharing everything you do, sharing every moment of my life with you, loving you. To share your bed, with you.” Vincent shuddered at this, her warm breath fanning his ear, his neck and a familiar throbbing started once again in his loins. “But I don’t just want to be your lover, I want to be your wife, I want to give you children, I want to be the one to make all your dreams come true.” Catherine detected his trembling growing beneath her hands, his panting breath coming hard and fast, and she again held his chin to turn him to face her. “Do you want that, Vincent? Don’t be afraid to say yes.” Her touch burned him, her eyes blazed with his. “Yes,” he rasped, “yes, oh yes.” He shuffled around to face her, his arms reaching for her, his head leaning in on her, and his mouth, that delicious wonderful mouth hungry for her lips. Oh the joy! The indescribable joy as his mouth came down on hers—Catherine clung to him, whimpering, melting in his arms. “I love you,” she managed to murmur against his mouth, “I love you so much.” “As I love you, dearest Catherine.” His tongue probed her sweetness, he couldn’t get enough, and the fire raged out of control as he shuffled to stand, still with his mouth clasped hard against hers. “Come with me?” he whispered. “Always.” She felt his arousal, and glorified in it by pressing herself closer against him, letting him know she agreed to this taking place between them right now. Vincent groaned as she pressed her own heat close to his, and he gathered her into his arms. “Trust me?” he whispered. “Yes. I know you would never hurt me, Vincent.” “I know of a place.” His eyes searched hers, searched for any sign of lingering doubts. There were none. “Take me there.” Satisfied, Vincent carried her close to his heart, his strides lengthening in a hurry to take her to his special place. A place he had chosen long ago as suitable to love his Catherine. It was warm there, and he went there often to dream the impossible dream. But this day it would no longer be impossible, this day he and his Catherine would be as one. This day they met their destiny, took a hold of it and walked right through their fears. “Remind me to thank your friend sometime,” Vincent whispered as they reached the place where all his dreams would soon be realized. “Oh! Edie!” Catherine exclaimed. “Is there a problem?” “Not anymore.” Catherine smiled into his neck, trailing adoring kisses at the exposed skin she found there. There was no problem at all, just a few enormous bridges to build that’s all. But then Edie would understand wouldn’t she? Maybe if she kissed her feet or something? Cathetine grinned impishly at the thought. And as Vincent settled her down a moment to spread out his cloak upon the sandy floor, before taking her back into his arms, a wry smile lit Catherine’s face, as she thought to herself. Edie is a true friend...and I wonder how she feels about being a bridesmaid yet again? And then all thoughts of Edie and every other person were forgotten, as Vincent and Catherine’s dream unfolded within each other’s arms. The End, almost... Some time later. “Vincent?” “Mmm?” “What’s that in your pocket? It’s kind of bumpy and sticky?” Vincent raised his head from off her shoulder, to look where she was pointing. “I don’t know my love.” He reached forth and took the fold of his cloak in his hand, delved inside the pocket and extracted his hand with a wry grin on his face. “Are you hungry Catherine?” “Not anymore.” Catherine had never felt so satisfied in her life! “Why?” “Only I was wondering... Would you like a crumb of cookie, or maybe two or three or four or...” His voice trailed away filled with bubbling laughter and joined by Catherine as he showed her his cookie-covered hand. “Just don’t tell William and you’ll be all right,” Catherine told him joyfully. “I’ve no intention of telling William.” Vincent sounded indignant at that. “How come?” “He’d want to know how I managed to crush them...” Catherine burst into a fresh bout of the giggles. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to share them with me?” Vincent popped the crumbs into his mouth. “Perfectly sure. Hey, mind where you’re dropping those crumbs.” “It was intentional.” Catherine’s eyebrows raised at that. “Vincent Wells, you are a very quick learner.” “I’ve read a lot of books,” he grinned at her, and Catherine began to love this new side to him, and it was infectious. “And now its time to put those books aside and put what you’ve learned into practice,” Catherine teased. Swallowing the last of the cookie crumbs, Vincent rubbed his nose affectionately against hers. “No, my love, you’ve got that wrong.” Catherine smiled up at him, waiting for him to continue. “Now’s the time for me to open a fresh page and start a new chapter. With you,” he told her before taking her lips beneath his again. “Mmm,” Catherine agreed, returning his kisses in full measure. “I only hope it’s a very long book.” Vincent chuckled. He felt so happy - never had he felt such joy, never. Catherine was his life, and she would be his wife and he could hardly believe that. In fact there were a lot of things that would take some getting used to, but he looked forward to them with an eagerness that knew no bounds. And at the top of his list, the thing he gave credence to right at that moment, was making the time to thank Catherine’s friend for helping him to see the light. And for helping him to realize that no matter how much a person may try, they can never ever, run away from love. Now it’s the end.