"I shouldn't dream or wish for things forbidden and that can never be. All it does is make it hurt that much more," Catherine whispered dispondingly to herself as she undressed for bed.

    The act of putting on her satin and lace nightgown seemed to be too much of an effort. Finally she slipped it over her head and pulled it down over her petite body. Then throwing the covers back she got into bed between the satin sheets. She just sat there with her legs drawn up to her chin. She wrapped her arms around her legs and began to cry. She tried not to, but she couldn´t hold back the tears anymore.

        Memories flooded on memories, past nights and that night, and now this night. He should have warned her. For it had started innocently with a special anniversary surprise for Olivia.
Catherine had volunteered to find the sprigs of fresh lilacs that Kalin had wanted to surprise O1ivia with. Those were her favorite flowers and had been in bloom when they had first met. So she had called and wandered all over town and finding only one shop that had enough in the quanity that she wanted. When she arrived down Below she found that Vincent was already in the new chambers. She got directions from one of the children and found him as he was lighting the candles. He was pleased that she had been able to locate any knowing that it was difficult at this time of year. That made her feel good that she could do this, to her, small thing to make Kanin and his wife happy on their wedding anniversary. It was when he had told her to put the lilac sprigs on the bed in the bedroom chamber that the trouble in her heart began.

        She could remember standing there in the doorway, not moving or being able to breathe for several seconds as she took in the sight of that beautiful, intricately carved Victorian bed with its satin sheets and silky comforter.It was definetly a romantic bed to make love in. Her heart skipped several beats as the thoughts came unbidden to her mind and heart, 'if only it was our bed. . . that only we could be together in that beautiful bed making love for forever. Oh, do I want to get him into bed--the hell with this love at arms length. I want a real, actual physical relationship!'
                                                    
         She hadn't realized that she had sighed so deeply, full of longing, and Vincent had heard her. Standing there, she realized wouldn't get the job done, or help her racing thoughts or mood. So quickly she had gathered up her wits and hoped he hadn't picked up too much of her feelings and thoughts through the bond. Though on the other hand she wished he would and those thoughts might motivate him--maybe? But she knew by the way he moved, and sighed that he had felt her and she could now feel his sad, resigned reactions though their bond. She dared not look at him. It would only make matters worse now.

        Shoving her own feelings down she made herself focus on the job at hand, spreading the sprigs of lilacs pver the beatiful comforter on the bed and put a large ribbon tied one on the pillow, then tucked another satin covered one on top. Finishing her task she stepped back to survey her handiwork. Vincent had finished his work of lighting the candles and had stepped up behind her and asked if she thought Oliva would like it? His voice was gravelly and velvet soft with his own momentary catch in it. Had he hoped that by speaking that he could distract her own private thoughts? Or had he wanted to talk it out? With him she never could be sure.

        All she could do was reply merrily, as if she didn't sense the deeper meaning behind his words, that Olivia would love it the room. She couldn't look at him. He would know too clearly her thoughts so she walked quickly by him. Which was as well as yhey could hear voices and knew that Kanin and Olivia were coming.

      He grabbed her hand as they ran across the room to hide out of sight by the doorway down the corridor. She could feel his tenseness and her own. But by that time he had submerged what he had been feeling as she had. The moment had gone again, and was lost to the rest of the evening. They had taken Luke to Mary and then he had walked her home to her entrance under her apartment building. They had talked about her work and his and hundred other trival things, but not about that. They hugged goodbye very chastly at the entrance to her apartment and she went up. But as she climbed she could fee1 his eyes on her retreating form, and a wispful sadness through their bond. That was unusual in itself as usually he kept his real feelings to himself and didn't let them leak out unless he wanted her to feel what he was feeling. She almost went back, but the fee1ings she had sensed before were quickly dampened down and he vanished before she could even turn around pr change her mind and go back. She glanced down and already he was rapidly leaving as fast as he could. She knew it was useless to follow so she continued her way home alone.

     Would he ever tell her what he was feeling? She wondered what thoughts had gone through his head? He was always so hard to draw out. And he was quieter of late and more guarded in his words. Had it been his experiences with Lena , or hers with Micheal, or both, and everything entering their lives that had caused him to in a way to be more distant with her? They talked, but of other peoples' problems, or everyday things, but not about themselves. or their feelings. Where before he wanted to know what she thought and felt, but recently he hadn't. In fact he had taken great pains since their discussion of his jealousy, not to ta1k of their feelings.

     Tonight she had tried to talk to him and he had ran. She was sure she knew why, but, not how to repair the damage done. It had all started innocently. He had been reading, English sonnets, she thought, her head on his shoulder as they sat on a blanket on the balcony, as they leaned against the wall. The night was cool but not cold, a pleasant early spring night. Vincent's soft voice making the words have meaning beyond what was implied to her ears:

      I hope and fear, I pray and ho1d my peace, -
      Now freeze my thoughts and straight they fry again,
      I now admire and straight my wonders cease,
      I loose my bonds and yet myself restrain;
      This likes me most that leaves me discontent,
      My courage serves and yet my heart doth fail,
      My will doth climb whereas my hopes are spent,
      I laugh at love, yet when he comes 1 quail;
      The more I strive, the duller bide I still,
      I would be thralled and yet I freedom love,
      I would redress yint hourly feed mine ill,
      I would repine and dare not once´ reprove
      And for my love I am bereft of power,
      And my strengthless strive my weakness to devour.

          “I love the way you read that, but I sometimes wonder why you chose the ones you do? I sometimes think you trying to tell me how you feel without coming right out any saying it." she commented, not expecting an answer but hoping for something to clarify the mystery of his reading choices to her. When she felt him stiffen up next to her, then lower his book to look at her with those intense, oddly pained blue eyes through the deep twi1ight. She realized her mistake. She had hit home on some unknown raw nerve of his.

       His answer when it came was slow and careful, "At times. The great poets speak words that I cannot when I am with you." And through their bond she could feel his acute embarassment and unease to speak further than this on this particular subject.

        She digested his confession, and decided not to move to see his face least she break the spell. “Am I that difficult to talk to?
        
        “Yes, and no. It is not the words but the feelings that you stir inside me when I am near you.” He answered, his voice low and more gravelly than usual as he breathed into her hair.

       If he kept that up she was going to do more than talk and she shivered inside and tried very hard to tamp down her rising libido. Boldly Catherine asked, “What do you feel?” She then counted the seconds it took for him to answer.

      Finally he spoke, keeping his voice as level as he could. “Things I should not. I hunger for dreams and desires that can never be fulfilled.” His answer was wrapped in misery and sincere longing. He threw his head back against the brick retaining wall as he stared off into the night and a deep sigh of anguish-escaped his lips.

     Catherine moved to touch his hair, to pull back the protective curtain that hid his features from her. In so doing her hand brushed his face, causing him to wince. “I know, I do too, Vincent. It's not wrong to have those thoughts."

    “It is for me, Catherine. They torture me because they do go against what I believe in," Vincent replied angrily.

    “And what do you believe in?” she asked not taking her eyes off his profile.

    “That you and I must be--separate and apart, leading our own separate lives. Because I have not the right, . . to want for more," he said, his voice trailed off, and he moved to get up.
                        
        She clamped both hands firmly on his shoulders holding him down before he could rise. He looked at her shocked. “Catherine, I must go! His voice held both anger and dispair. His blue eyes were pleading, searching her serious face.

“No! Not until we finish this discussion. You take flight everytime we even get close to discussing this. Not this time!" Catherine commented letting him know she was not going to let him leave until they did talk this out. Her eyes fixed on his and she didn´t slack her hold on him as she went on. "Vincent, we must talk about this. What makes you think you don´t have the right? You have every right! Don´t you understand that I am committed fully to you. That I love you and only you. That I have the same tboughts and dreams about you that you have about me," she finished breathlessly, watching his mouth fall open, and his eyes go wide it her confession.
                       
        He was stunned speechless. He could see the truth of her words in her warm green eyes that sparked with all the love she felt and he could it hum like a live thing through their bond which revibrated so strongly with the love she felt for him as well as the passion. Vincent also knew that she had seen into his secret heart, the one he tried to deny that had held feelings for her as a man for a woman. Fellings that he couldn´t allow himself to think, or feel that way. He was not a normal man, so he could not know that he had normal feelings. He was in his mind a beast or worse. He did not dare to touch her, beyond their simple hugs and holdings, though he longed to do so. And was ashamed of those base desires that were now surfacing more and more. Every night when he was alone, he wished it to be different to have more time with her, to be with her for more than just snatched moments here and there.

        Her words had more than dazed him. He didn´t know what to say. When he didn't reply Catherine got worried that she had gone too far. That she had pushed him beyond the limits of his tolerance. “Vincent? she quietly queried, trying to get him to respond in some way. Catherine started to move her hands off his shoulders but he quickly siezed her wrists and kept them there.

      She looked at him in puzzlement though her long bangs.

      His question came out just above whisper, “Why?” His blue eyes locked with hers.

     "Why what?”

     "Why do you want me? I am not a man. How can you want me as a man?” His eyes were pain laden, and his brow was furrowed, but he did not release the grip on her hands. She shifted uncomfortably on her knees.

     “You are, my love. Even if you don´t see yourself as one. To me you´re beautiful inside and out. You think only of your outside while I see beyond that.” She tried to explain not knowing if he understood what she was saying. "I want all of you. To be with you all the time, not just when we can make the time. And I want you to admit you do too.”

     “Catherine.” He said uneasily, begging her not to press him. The long reddish gold hair fell forward as he shook his head.

      “Does the changing our relationship frighten you that much? We have been reaching a point where something has to give. I told you how I feel but still you keep quiet.” She chided him, venturing to touch his hair that flowed around her fingers.

      “Yes it frightens me, for I fear I will only cause you more pain and sorrow. You have your world here Above, your work, your friends, your family and even your home. I can offer you little nor can I ask you sacrifice what you have.”

     “Vincent, don´t you understand, I would give up all this gladly to be with you in your world. I want to be a part of your world completely; not just as a casual visitor or a friend from Above. It is not a sacrifice, it is truely what I want. Believe that, Vincent, I-want to be with you.” She said with all her heart and soul, telling him to believe her words and hoping he could feel it through their bond.
         
      Even though he knew her words to be true, he could not accept them,---not now,-not yet. With a heavy heart, he denied his own feelings and hers. “No, Catherine. My world is too harsh. This is where you belong in the sunlight, not caged Below in the ground. As to us it can never be. Please accept that for both of our sakes. We must remain as we are, we can not move beyond that and be as man and woman.”

     She shook her head, her hair flying like a cloud around her. Her eyes when she looked up at him finally were laced with hurt beyond hurt at his denying her the chance to be with him and to prove that she could exist in his world.

     "No! We can move beyond, if you would only let us!" Catherine protested, trying to fight back her tears.

     He released her hands. “I can´t! It would destroy what we have.”

     "Vincent, no! It would only enrich what we have. I want you Vincent, not as just a friend but as the man I want to spend the rest of my life with! I can´t make it any plainer than that!" Catherine exclaimed despartely, trying to break through to him.

     Again he shook his head in denial, hiding his face while through the bond she could sense his turbulent conflicting emotions as he warred with himself over spiritual love versus the physical, real love she was offerring him.

     He could cope with the conversation or her nearness any longer so he shook loose from her grasp on his cloak and rose quickly to his feet. She tried to grab his swirling cloak but he was faster than she, all she grabbed was empty air. Before she could call out he was gone quickly, bolting over the rail of her balcony out of sight into the darkness.

     She remained on her knees as he had left her looking blankly at where he had gone. She knew he would not be back this night, or for many to come, and then her heart knew fear that he might stay away from her forever. Her boldness had cost her her dearest friend and the man she loved. She had pushed too far this night. Would he forgive her, would he think over her words and come back? She did not know. Had letting him know how she really felt been the correct choice? Right now, all she knew was it had caused him to run and hide. She had hoped for a different response and now found that she had greatly misinterpreted his feelings and desires for her. It was all her fault.

      Catherine barely remembered picking up the blanket and the fallen book of poetry, as she stumbled into her very empty seeming apartment. She dumped them blank and book on the couch, then went back to her bedroom, turning off the lights as she went. She didn't even bothered to get undressed from her sweats and just crawled into the cold, lonely bed. The darkness offered no consolation for the pain, it only fit her mood,and emptiness she felt for her boldness. She felt as if her heart had been cut in two, seveed from her soul. She reached out to him and found a solid wall of coldness, imprentable, a void where warmth and light had been. He was deliberately shutting her out, closing himself off from her completely. And it frightened her to her very depths because no matter what before he was at least there in some form--now there was nothing.
       

        She evidently had gone too far this time. She didn't know yet how to repair the damage. Or if it could be. Finally it all came crashing down on her and in the end she cried herself
to sleep.

          Catherine woke instantly to Vincent´s touch on her bare shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up into his anxious face lit by the pale light of the breaking day. "Vincent, what´s wrong? Why are you here?” she asked, surprised at seeing him by her bedside and started to sit up.

       “I knocked, but you did not hear me. I thought something had happened, you were so deeply asleep. I came to apologize." He said sincerely, bowing his head as he straightened up.

        "Apologize? It is me that should apologize. I should not have tried to make you talk. It was wrong of me, I´m sorry," she blushed, then pulled the covers around her as she sat up. She peered up at him from under her bangs.

        "Catherine, we do need to talk. You were right in that. Your words bother me greatly as I try to forget the gap between us but yet it remains. You see me as you want to see me as a man and not as I truely am," he said with deep regret tinging his voice as he shifted uncomfortably on the floor kneeing before her as she sat regarding him from her bed.

        “Do I?” She questioned, her mind waking to crystal clarity as she sensed how important this conversation was going to be to their future. “And how do you see yourself?”

        "As something very different from you. As something not quite human, something that has not the right to be with you or to love you as a man.” His words were bitter, like shards of ice piercing her soul. “You say you know me, but you don´t, Catherine!"

       “Vincent, I do!"

         He exploded. "You see not the animal that I am! These hands that have held you are the same ones that have killed and rent flesh like an animal or worse. I kill, Catherine, and the blood on my hands will never go away!”

        "Vincent, I understand.” She tried to reassure him, in soothing tones.

        "No, you don´t!” He stormed angrily, jumpimg up suddenly, pacing madly, his eyes blazing as his cloak swirled around his legs with his agitated actions “There is no sanity, no rational control to my actions, Only the desire to hurt or kill what is before me. And how many times have I killed far too many! Nothing can remove that dark sorrow from my benighted soul."

      “But it has been in the name of love to protect me--to protect others from danger. You have only done what needed to be done. There is no shame in that!" Catherine argued loudly

      "He stopped and shook his head wearily, looking upward as he spoke.”There is no justification for murder&emdash;&emdash;for taking a life!”

      His words rang true, as did his pain, but she knew she had to make him see that his actions were justified, were necessary, that he had reacted as -any-man would have, if his loved ones or home were threatened. “You do not kill without cause, for the thrill of killing-that is what separates you from the others. You feel remorse, pain, and deep sorrow for what you have been forced to do. You think and react as a man, a man that cares...deeply for what he does."

      The eyes blazed behind the veil of his hair, “No--! You know not my thoughts--you still do not see the darkside of my being!" His voice was cold and hard but the emotions he was feeling were turbulent through their bond.

     “Vincent, I do!” Catherine protested, trying to reach out her arms to him.

     “When I rage you shrink back in fear and disgust at what you see. He said, leveling a finger at her, but she stood her ground and looked him square in the eye not flinching at his words or actions towards her.

        “I did in the beginning, but not now! Even when the tunnels were invaded, I understood and accepted what you had to do. You shut me out, then refused to talk. I wanted to share your pain,.” She cried.

      “It can not be shared. Talking would not take away . . . our blindness.” He told her with a visible shudder and deep dispair in his pain wracked voice.

        She still refused to hear his words or comprehend what he was really saying. "There is no blindness, only love&emdash;- love of all of you--acceptance of what you did for all of us! You did what had to be done!” Catherine protested, her eyes pleading with him to listen to her.

          “Catherine, it didn,t have to be that way.--You put yourself at risk after I told you not to. You forced the issue! You&emdash; were safe here!” His hands slashed downward to the floor as he drove home the point that she had disregarded his wishes for her safety.
               
        She shook her head and met his blazing eyes, not giving in. “Vincent, it was my fight too, You, Father, the children, the people Below weren´t safe. I couldn´t stay away--not do anything! I belong at your side, not away!"
                
      “Catherine, the risk was too great! There was nothing you could have done--you saw that. They would have . . . . .“ He could not say the words, head. For if he had not reached her in time they would have raped her or worse.
                     ‘:
        “They would have raped me. I knew, Vincent. I'm sorry." She apologized, looking for forgiveness from him.

      He calmed down, but the tenseness was still there as he knelt back down by her bedside and took her hands in his. Catherine, you are my life. If I couldn´t have reached you in time and if they had harmed you-- I could not have lived with that!” He said in an anguished voice as he buried his face in her hands.

      “But you did reach me--did save me. It´s my fault you got shot. You were right and I was wrong. If I had stayed Above you wouldn´t have been hurt.”

       “Yes, Father has not forgiven himself either for asking you to bring the gun down. if everyone had let me alone to do what needed to be done. Catherine, I cannot change what I am. My world depends on me to protect it, and I cannot survive without it. There is no place I can go.” Vincent said sadly, looking up at her.

      “I know. That´s why I want to be with you, not alone and separate in this world.”

      “Catherine, your life is here.” Vincent told her firmly releasing her hands. There is only work and a terrible aloneness. All that I care about is Below with you,” she protested trying to touch his hair.

       “No! It is impossible!”

       “Nothing is impossible. You are the one putting up barriers when none are needed. What frightens you so? You long for completeness as much as I do, then you deny it for both of us.”
                        
        "Because it must be."

        "Why?," Catherine asked, her voice wrapped in misery and pain.

         His silence was long and her question hung in the air unanswered like a wall between them. She tried again to get him to tell her the reason that kept them apart, “Why, Vincent? Why do you keep us apart?”

        "At least give me some reason--please tell me?" she pleaded.

            
        He shook his head. He did not want to answer her. But she deserved at least something so she would be able to to begin to understand his viewpoint, his inner torment, and maybe mercifully leave the matter alone as it should be left alone. She would then be able to see that it was impossible and maybe seek the comfort she needed elsewhere with another as much as that would pain him and her for a time. But how could he tell this gentle soul that rage and passion were too close, too intertwined for him to now to distinquish the two. That if he was to be as she wished, if he let loose with what he felt, the passion,and desire he felt within himself building to explosive levels that he was her greatest danger, more so than any of the threats in her life had been.

        How could he tell this woman that he loved beyond his very life itself that if they were as man and woman as they both desired he feared losing his control and killing her with this self same hands she held so trustingly in her own. She would laugh at him and think him crazy as he had tried unsuccessfully to talk to Father on the subject as well. It would be Lisa again, and worse as there would be no strn parental voice holding him back this time. He could not work past his fears as the 'Other' now stayed too close to the surface these days as he never knew when he would have to go defend her or his home from dangers.

        Though to tell her the truth, could she hear the awful truth from his lips and believe it. She hadn't be able to so far. And how many times had he tried to tell he, show her? And still when confronted with the hard evidence before her very eyes she had denied it as had Father, though in Father's case there was a grudging acceptance along with everyone else Below of his beast side as protector and defender of their world. But they knew the price he paid with his soul for his acts of love. She still had no clue. And with her his control was slipping day by day, a risk he had been willing to take in the beginning when he thought there would nothing more between them then friendship only. Now she-he--they wanted more than just words in a book, holding hands, and hugs. Their bodies demanded more, but their minds, their souls held back as she was still afraid of giving herself to anyone after her two years ago

        She had broke off with Elliot Burch for a number of reasons. He knew the real reasons besides her interest in him because at that time he was still safe, unapproachable, no threat to her bruised sexuality. Burch on the other hand did threaten her, did make her fearful. She would only be able to hold him off for so long. And she wasn't yet ready to let anyone touch her that way again. Now she was fighting her own fears by wanting to have a real relationship with him, knowing that at the most critical moment she might still reject him out of her own fears. He didn't know whether he would have that much control over himself at that point to pull back if she needed him too. He was not sure what would happen if the 'Other' in such a situation would do or react. It could possibly be her death. The 'Other' did not take no for an answer and would strike out in his frustration.

        Somehow he would have to get her to ease off and take this slowly. He had to get her to understand that his reactions, and desires were not normal. If there was any chance for them they would have to proceed slowly or not at all. Finally he spoke with regret, “It is not time. You say the words but your heart holds back. You are not ready to give of yourself completely --to me!”He didn´t mean the words to hurt but they did, nevertheless.
        
        All she could do was protest through her tears, “That´s not true!What more do I have to do to prove my love?”
            -
        You don't have to prove. You only have to trust in your heart and surrender yourself completely to love.” He said looking up at her, his eyes were sad but hopeful that she would understand what he was trying to tell her.
         
        "Vincent, I have.”

        "No," he shook his head, then looked back up at her, “You have so many fears, Catherine. That is what keeps apart You still have not learned what love is. When you do, then we can truely be together," he told her and saw blank incomprehension in her eyes, he sighed.
                                                                            
      “There´s no other way?” she asked mystified by his words.

      “None.” He said starting to rise, “It is time for me to go.”

        "I know," she acknowledged, knowing that he did have to leave and all too soon she had to get ready for work. She watched him stand up to leave and wished it could be different. All she could do was ask as he headed for the door, "Do you think we can ever turn our dreams into reality someday?”
                                                                               
        “Yes, someday," Vincent softly answered with love and compassion in his thoughtful eyes, then he reached out his hand to gently stroke her hair. "I look forward to it."

        "Until then, I will accept what we have, and work at changing what I can."

        He nodded. "That is all that is needed. We have large dreams, Catherine. Larger than you have yet to fully understand about our relationship. Ours is a journey of discovery for both of us. The way will not be simple or easy. We both have expectations and ideals that will have to be changed in the face of the truths we will uncover on our path. But ours has to be a slow journey as you will begin to understand. It can not be forced, it can not be made to go the way you want or as I would want. We were never thought of in anyone's imagination. What is normally true in matters of love is slightly altered in ours. I am not a man. That is the truth you have to accept and honor. What I am I do not know. It is that difference that sets us apart. You must think carefully about these steps you wish to undertake, for once started it will not be easy to turn back," he told her, chosing his words carefully and finally seeing a glimmering of comprehension in her eyes.

        Then he was gone through her open french doors to leave her to think about the changes she needed to make within herself. She now knew that her forbidden dreams were not so forbidden after all, just delayed. Time and changes within both of them were what was needed to make them real. With that knowledge her mood lifted and she began to look upon the dawn with new hope and happiness for a future with her love that could be possible.

 

About the author. Vickey Brickle-Macky has been a SF/fan artist all her life. Starting with comic book illustrations for book stores, and portraits of rock stars for record stores in Kansas City, Missouri in the late 1960's. Later she switched to painting fantasy characters on custom cars, bikes and vans in the mid '70's as a custom auto painter with her own shop Kustom Komplete. She continued her art career in between raising seven kids. In the early '80's she started doing fan writing with Star Trek stories and going to college. In her next to last year of school at U of Louisville, Beauty and the Beast came on and changed her life completely. She left school and got back into her art doing paintings of B&B for the flea markets, then she discovered SF cons in 1988. She started doing the cons full time as an artist with other artists who were also gamers. On a long trip back from a con the concept of turning her art into a comic book story was born and turned into Macky's Sign of the Lion fanzine which came out in October 1988. From there fanzine writing and art became a fulltime job on the con curcuit, especially after meeting up with her husband, Bill, who was already a book dealer. She continued writing and illustrating zines B&B zines with 6 novels and 2 story zines to her credit and then spreading out into Forever Knight fandom until family situations forced her to give up cons in 1993. She is now getting back into her fan writing again and will be doing 3rd season beyond B&B stories. In real life she designs fantasy cross stitch as PhoeniX Stitchery and does freelance design for Stitcher's World magazine.

Visions of Love and Hope- Classic B&B stories and art --http://www.geocities.com/vbmacky1/

Beyond Dreams--3rd Season Beyond B&B with V&D-- http://www.geocities.com/bbvbmacky/

Caverns of the Darkest Night--2nd Season V&C Adult comic book--http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Nebula/1863/

Night Visions--B&B and Forever Knight stories R rated--http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Hollow/9487/

PhoeniX Stitchery-Fantasy, Celtic and Pagan Cross Stitch Designs--http://phoenixstitchery.bizland.com/

You can reach Vickey at: phoenixstitch@zdnetonebox.com