WITH  LOVE  ALL  THINGS  ARE  POSSIBLE

By Irene Felton

Part 2

Vincent paused, his hand about to lift the boiling kettle from the stove. The soup was in the bowl, already placed on the tray with the bread. Vincent was sifting through all the emotions that Catherine was experiencing. He was shocked. There was so many of them. Fear was the most prevalent. They must talk, he thought. He must get to the bottom of her turmoil; if he and Catherine were to get any peace. With the tea made, he placed the tea and toast on the tray. Picking it up, he moved with feline grace into the living room. He looked around the room to decide where they would be most comfortable. He placed the tray on the hearth by the fire. He then pushed the couch further back and pulled down the cushions, arranging them against the couch to make comfortable backrests. Checking everything was as comfortable as he could make it, he walked over to the louvered doors of her bedroom. He could hear Catherine moving about inside as well as see her shadow from under the door.

Vincent tapped hesitantly. "Catherine are you alright?... May I come in?"

"Yes, please come in" she said. Vincent opened the door and stepped over the threshold. Catherine was standing at the dressing table. One of the drawers was open, her hand inside, looking for something. Vincent could see the garments in the drawer were small and flimsy and every colour imaginable. Catherine pulled out two pieces of cloth, he thought were of silk, but wasn't quite sure what they were. Women's clothing had never held any interest for him, till now. The scraps of red material she was holding, he assumed were her underwear. Vincent ducked his head and turned away, embarrassed. Never had he seen clothing like that before. The tunnels were cold most of the time, but most adjusted in time. He had passed the women doing their washing in the communal laundry chamber. Most tunnel dwellers wore thermal underwear, including the women. Although practical, it was not very alluring. Vincent himself had no need for thermals. The thick hair that covered his body was protection enough, coupled with the several layers of clothing he wore to hide his body from prying eyes. Catherine placed both garments on top of the clean blouse and skirt she had already selected and which lay on the bed.

Vincent turned to face her again. He reached for her hands and held them gently in his, his thumbs caressing the palms. He lifted her injured hand to his mouth and his lips touched lightly to the broken skin. Their eyes locked for a moment.

"Would you allow me to attend to your injuries before you dress Catherine? Then perhaps you would drink the tea and soup I have prepared for you?" He looked at her intently. "We must talk Catherine ... what happened?"

Catherine shook her head. "Not yet Vincent ... please ... I'm so tired." He could see her exhaustion, it was etched upon her face. He sat down on the bed and pulled her down beside him. Her robe parted down the middle, exposing her legs. For a moment his eyes were drawn to them. He had never seen so much of them before and they were truly lovely. Vincent blinked rapidly, trying not to think of her nakedness beneath the robe. His eyes travelled the length of her legs and stopped at her grazed knees. "Where do you keep your first aid box Catherine?"

"It's in the cabinet in the bathroom, over the sink. I'll get... "

"No," he interrupted, his hand on her shoulder. "I will fetch it." He rose from the bed and walked into the bathroom. He returned and knelt before her, and placing the medical supplies on the bed. Opening the box, he found it sufficient for his needs. He held her chin in his hand and tilted her face towards him. "How do you feel now Catherine?"

"Better." She tried to smile but failed miserably.

"I will tend to your injuries now Catherine. I will try not to hurt you."

Catherine had to smile at that, even if it was a little tremulous. "You could never hurt me Vincent, don't you know that?" He looked at her intently and his heart skipped a beat at the look of love and trust in her eyes. Tearing his gaze away from her face, he concentrated on the task in hand. Unscrewing the cap from the bottle of antiseptic, he poured some onto the cotton wool. His sensitive nose twitched as the fumes assailed his nostrils. He lifted Catherine's leg in his hand and placed her foot against his thigh, dabbing at the angry broken skin. Catherine anchored her bottom lip with her teeth to stop herself from crying out at the sudden sting of the antiseptic. Vincent looked at her with an expression that begged her forgiveness at the pain he was causing her. Catherine slid her finger up and down his cheek. "Don't worry I'm alright."

"I've nearly finished" he said as he allowed his hand to travel the length of her calf. Her skin is so soft, he thought. Then he shook himself mentally and placed her foot back down on the floor. He did the same with the other knee. When finished he looked up at her. "I believe the skin will heal more quickly if exposed to the air Catherine. So I advise you to leave your knees uncovered, at least for a few days. He placed her foot back on the floor and let his hand slide up her calf until he reached the back of her knee. Catherine trembled at the contact to her warm soft skin. Vincent pulled his hand away suddenly as if burned. "I... will... see to your hand now Catherine. His voice was shaky with the suppressed desire to hold her, touch her.

He rose and sat down on the bed beside her. He took her hand in his and turned it palm up. The tip of his long deadly claw, traced along the edge of the cut. His emotions back in check once more, he spoke softly. "I do not believe it needs stitches Catherine, but it will cause you some discomfort for a day or two I will clean and bandage it for you." With some fresh cotton wool he cleaned the cut with the antiseptic. Then he rubbed some salve into the cut, placed a gauze pad across the damaged area and bandaged the hand with utmost care. When finished he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the bandage. "How does it feel? not too tight?"

"It feels good. I don't think Father could have done any better and certainly not with your gentleness." She smiled at him then and leaned towards him, her breath warm against his mouth. "Thank you" she said and pressed her mouth to his. The kiss was brief, but it took his breath away. He shook inwardly, her nearness was beginning to affect him, knowing that the separation they had endured over the last three weeks probably had something to do with it. He was finding it more and more difficult to be separated from Catherine as time went on. He needed her like he needed the air to breathe. He must take great care tonight, to keep his emotions in check.

He stood quickly and looked down at her. "Perhaps... you should dress Catherine... I have prepared tea and soup for you. I would not want it to get cold. It would spoil your enjoyment."

"I'm not really hungry Vincent, but the tea sounds wonderful."

"Catherine, he admonished gently. You need sustenance. You work hard all day. To neglect yourself so, will make you ill." With the most beguiling smile she had ever seen, he pleaded, "please... for me." Quirking an eyebrow towards him at his obvious attempt at blackmail.

The corners of her mouth lifted into a smile. "Well maybe just a few spoonfuls. Just for you." Catherine stood then and hugged him and he returned the gesture.

"With your permission I will clear up the bathroom while you dress."

"Well if you are sure Vincent, I can just as easily do it later."

"No Catherine you have done enough for one day. It gives me great pleasure to help you in any way that I can." He closed the bathroom door behind him, but failed to notice it did not fully close. As he was putting the first aid box in the cabinet, Vincent froze.

Catherine's image was reflected back to him through the mirror of the cabinet door. Catherine was standing with her back to him, near the bathroom door. The dressing gown she had been wearing was at her feet and she was wearing a pair of brief lacy panties. She was struggling to fasten the matching red bra. Then she stepped away out of his sight. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the mirror. She was so beautiful. How he longed to hold her, caress her. Desire rose up in him swiftly. He was mortally ashamed at openly staring at her near nude body. He closed his eyes, his whole body trembling at the force of his desire. His behaviour was abominable. He should have averted his eyes immediately. Her image was indelibly etched in his memory and he couldn't shake it. He swallowed hard, taking in large gulps of air to calm his racing heart. He walked over to the door and closed it silently and leaned heavily against it. 'Pull yourself together' he thought. 'Catherine needs you'. To debase Catherine in such a way, with his lustful thoughts, horrified him. The avalanche of his emotions and feelings buried him with their intensity. He wanted her so much, to touch her everywhere. Lose himself in her soft warm body. His hands came up to press hard against his temples, his eyes tightly closed; trying desperately to quell his rising desire. Catherine would be horrified if she knew what he was thinking. The growl rose into his throat and he loathed himself. He pulled away from the door and turned slightly and for the first time saw the full length mirror at his back. His first reaction was to turn away. But instead he turned fully to face the mirror. His imposing figure reflected back at him.

Vincent stared at his reflection. He was tall, six foot two, to be precise. His boots added another two inches to his already impressive height. Even to his own eyes he looked strong and formidable. His chest was wide and slightly barrel shaped. His legs were long and well muscled with big strong thighs. His anatomy was the same as any other man, except larger than most.

With the many layers of clothes he wore, he looked almost normal, or so he hoped. Catherine had accepted his face and hands a long time ago and grown to love him anyway. What really rankled him was that she had never seen him naked or even bare-chested. He had always made certain of that. The sight of his own naked body, disturbed even him. So much so that he had stopped bathing with the rest of the community in the communal bathing chambers, when puberty had asserted itself. No more did he swim with his friends. His differences would horrify them, or so he thought. He knew some men were hairier than others, but what he had was more than he had seen on anyone in his entire life. He was covered in a fine down of hair and it covered his entire body. It thickened considerably over his chest, legs, forearms and hands. It seemed more like fur than human body hair. The sight was distasteful to him. How could Catherine look at him and not feel repulsed.

Vincent knew Catherine loved him with an intensity that surprised even him. He knew this to be true. But physical love was something else. Although he found it difficult to understand how she could love his face and hands, he had often caught her looking at him when she thought be was not aware of it and it had surprised and delighted him. Catherine had kissed his hands many times and told him often, that she liked to rub her fingers against the soft hair. Liked to hold his hand, that it was such a comfort to her.

Vincent looked down at his hands and turned away from his reflection. He hated his hands the most. What if in the throes of passion he lost control of who he was? His strong hands with their deadly claws, could tear a body limb from limb. The image of Catherine naked, torn and bloodied appeared suddenly into his mind. "No" he almost screamed out. "Never will I allow that to happen. I will take my own life first." He shook his head violently in an attempt to keep his thoughts under control. Catherine must not see him like this. He must protect her against himself at all costs. He rubbed his sweaty palms down along the tops of his thighs, the rough denim of his jeans absorbing the moisture. He turned on the tap to splash cold water onto his face. Straightening, he caught sight of himself in the cabinet mirror and turned away, disgusted with his image.

Vincent looked about the room and went over to the discarded towels on the floor. Picking one up, he wiped his face dry. Even the towels carried her scent. He leaned over the bath and pulled the plug. The water gurgled as it drained away. He cleaned the bath methodically, glad of the distraction, from his disturbing thoughts. That done, he collected all Catherine's wet and dirty clothes from the floor and placed them in the laundry hamper. With one of the soiled towels he mopped the spills of water on the floor and returned all the wet towels to the hamper. The soft tap on the door caught his attention.

"Are you finished Vincent?"

"Yes Catherine. I will be but a moment." He gave a cursory look around to see if everything was back in its place. Sighing, he took a deep breath and left the bathroom to join Catherine.

Catherine was no longer in the bedroom. She was in the living room seated on the floor, her back against the couch. The soft folds of her skirt lay sensually across her legs, stretched out in front of her. She was drying her hair with one of the large towels. Vincent stepped around the couch.

"May I do that for you Catherine?" She looked up at him. He was smiling down at her. The warm glow of the fire reflected in his crystal blue eyes. Vincent took the towel from her as Catherine leaned forward and he settled himself behind her, stretching his long legs out either side of hers. Catherine leaned back against him and closed her eyes as he gently dried her hair a lock at a time. Then taking the towel away from her hair, he set it down on the floor beside him.

"Catherine are you ready for your tea and soup now? If you leave it much longer, I am sure it will be too cold for you to enjoy." Catherine gave him a warm smile and patted the floor beside her. Vincent eased out from behind her, to sit along side her, their legs touching intimately. She looked adorable with her hair still damp and dishevelled. Catherine handed him his tea and she herself took up the bowl of soup. Vincent watched fascinated as she dunked her bread into the soup before eating it.

"What?" she said as she caught him staring at her.

"I'm sorry I... did not mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just that you seem to like to dunk your bread as I do."

"You do too, she said, surprised. Care to join me?" Catherine offered the plate of bread to him. Taking a slice he dunked it into her bowl of soup resting in her lap. He raised the bread to his mouth, displaying his large canines as he took a bite. Catherine watched entranced. She felt a small thrill go through her at the sight of his large teeth. She didn't know why, she just did. Under such scrutiny Vincent would have shied away from anyone in most circumstances, but this was Catherine. He felt her pleasure from this simple sharing. It warmed him deeply. They sat in companionable silence while they shared the simple meal. "That was wonderful Vincent, thank you for going to the trouble." Placing everything back onto the tray, he stood and looked down at her. "It was no trouble Catherine. I only wish there had been more to offer you. But alas your cupboards were bare and the menu was limited. You really must take better care of yourself Catherine I worry about you."

He watched as Catherine's face turned a lovely shade of pink. "I... I promise I will do better in the future Vincent" then lowered her eyes to the floor slightly embarrassed.

"I'll be but a moment Catherine." Turning away from her, he was in the kitchen in seconds. Washing the few things up, he put them away. Looking around once, he switched off the light and padded back to Catherine. He stood watching her a moment as Catherine sat before the fire, brushing her long hair, the glow from the fire, highlighting the honey blond streaks in her hair. Sensing him watching her, she looked up and smiled at him, through the curtain of her hair. He came forward and knelt down behind her. Catherine handed him the brush. "Do you mind Vincent?" as she turned towards him. The firelight danced brightly, reflected in her emerald green eyes. "No Catherine it would give me great pleasure."

Vincent settled himself comfortably amongst the pillows on the floor and braced his back against the back of the couch, pulling Catherine down to sit between his outstretched legs. The brush gilded through her soft shiny hair easily, although Vincent wasn't exerting too much pressure. He liked the length of her hair as it was now. Catherine had let it grow since she had known him.

It was now half way down her back. He ran his fingers through the silky strands, breathing deeply of the fragrance. Her hair always had a floral scent, usually roses. Almost to himself he whispered. "So soft and nice to touch Catherine. Unlike my own which at times can be coarse and brittle."

"Ah well there is a secret to that Vincent." He cocked his head to one side as she turned to look at him. "It's called a conditioner."

He looked at her, bemused, and shrugged his shoulders. "And what is a conditioner?" he asked. Taking the brush from his hands, she looked into his sapphire blue eyes, indicating with the brush that she wished to reciprocate. "May I." Nodding his approval, he leaned forward slightly to give her easy access. Catherine was about to kneel in front of him, but he stopped her.

"Catherine your knees will never heal if you continue to abuse them in such a way."

Catherine had the grace to look contrite. "I'm sorry Vincent I forgot." Shaking his head and tutting, he smiled at her as he pulled her into his lap. "That will never do." Continuing, she said. "A conditioner is what I use after I have washed my hair. It makes it more manageable. Easier to control."

"Ah I see... I think," as he tried to ignore her closeness.

"Would you allow me to get you some. It would help to keep this unruly mass in order." She hastened to add. "Not that I don't like your hair as it is. In fact I love your hair. I love everything about it." Vincent chuckled then and looked at her. "I fear nothing will help, but if you wish I will try it. Thank you." Catherine pulled his head forward. Vincent gasped as he found his face pressed against her breasts as she reached down behind his back to brush the long strands. He pulled away abruptly, startled at her sudden actions.

Catherine felt him pull away and tense. Her heart skipped a beat. 'Why does he always pull away? Why won't he let me get close,' she thought. Placing the brush on the floor beside her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled into it. "Don't Catherine... please." He had to stop her before she went too far, while he was still in control.

"Why Vincent? why wont you hold me? I just want you to hold me." He could only sigh and bring his arms up to encircle her waist. She asked so little, he could be strong for a little while. Resting her head against his strong broad shoulder, she snuggled down. "Mmmm that's better, I've needed this all day." Relaxing a little, Vincent leaned back against the couch drawing Catherine with him. He sat still for a moment, savouring Catherine's small soft weight in his lap. He loosened her grip from around his neck and held her small fingers in his own, pressed against his heart.

"Catherine we must talk… I know your day has been difficult. Your emotions have been a part of me all day and you have not yet told me how you came by your injuries." He looked down into her soft green eyes so full of love for him. But there were other emotions there too. Tiredness, confusion, defeat, fear. It was the fear that concerned him the most. Catherine turned her head away from him and looked into the flames of the fire dancing merrily in the hearth. She felt the tips of his claws as his hand cupped her chin and pulled her face around to look at him. He sat silent, his eyes never leaving her face, Giving her time to compose herself... gathering her thoughts into order, "I fell that's all. I was clumsy."

"You, clumsy Catherine? Never. There is more to it than that. Surely you can tell me Catherine. You can tell me anything... anything." He pulled her hands to his lips and kissed her finger tips.

Knowing it was useless trying to keep things from him any longer. Catherine took a deep breath. He had already sensed her turmoil and knowing him it wouldn't take him long to wheedle it out of her. He was obviously worried. His presence alone was testament to that. Her emotions had been high today. He must have felt her intention to go down to see him. Why else was he here? His blue eyes were so full of love and concern for her. Catherine sighed and rested her head against his chest, comforted by the slow, steady beat of his heart. "I'll make a deal with you, she said. I'll tell you about my day if you tell me about yours first." Hoping to delay the inevitable, Vincent snorted at that. So, even Catherine was not averse to a little blackmail herself.

"All right Catherine you win for now. But I will not be persuaded I assure you."

"I know Vincent, I just need time to organize my thoughts. I promise I will tell you about my day." He looked at her, his eyes troubled.

"And about what is bothering you?" Catherine tried to pull away, but he held her firmly. "Please Catherine you must tell me. It might help."

"I can't Vincent. Please don't make me. I don't ever want you to be disappointed in me."

"Nothing can change the way I feel about you, nothing. I know you are troubled and it is eating away at you. Please Catherine don't shut me out. There is so little we share. Let me help you, share this with me." At her hesitation he pleaded... "please?"

Catherine pulled away from him, stood up and began to pace the floor nervously. 'Please' she thought' please don't let this affect how he feels about me. Vincent watched her pace. He was almost afraid to hear what she had to tell him. The emotions he could feel at work in her, were beginning to worry him. At last she stopped pacing and faced him. 'Well,' she thought, here goes. 'Vincent has taught me to be strong and face my fears. I won't malign his trust in me, with all these doubts. I have to be strong'. She took a deep breath.

"Vincent I am going to be totally honest with you. I have been putting this off for a long time now and yes it is affecting me." She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know where to begin."

"At the beginning Catherine... Isn't that the best place to start... I believe?" He smiled at her to try and lighten the tension that had developed between them.

"I lost another case today. The third this month. The witness turned up dead. So the man responsible for wrecking many lives, walks free.

"Catherine that is hardly your fault. You are not responsible for the death of your witness."

"Please Vincent don't interrupt, I won't be able to continue. This is difficult enough."

"I'm… sorry Catherine... please go on," he said, a little contrite.

Catherine sat down opposite him, Indian style on the floor with the fire to her back. Vincent sat entranced as the shadows played over her lovely features. She reached for his hand and held it tightly. Vincent covered it with his own. Sending his love through their connection, he encouraged her to continue.

"Vincent I feel as if I have failed them, all of them. It seems what I am able to do is so little. I've become dissatisfied with what I am doing. There is nothing I can do for them on a personal level. All I can do is tell the victims where to go for help, but it is always in such short supply. People who are in most need, just don't get it and I have to stand back and see these people struggle so. My job does not enable me to help them in the way I want to. To the office they are just another case file, another victim, another statistic I feel there is so much more I could do if my hands were not so tied."

"Catherine don't be so hard on yourself. You have done so much. Think of all the people you have helped. He held her hand more firmly. "Think of Lena, she would not be below today with her child if it had not been for you. Think of Eric. There are so many you have helped above and below. I dread to think what could have happened to Father if you had not rescued him from one of your jails and returned him to us. We searched everywhere for him, it was you that found him."

"But don't you see Vincent. those people I have helped were not directly related to my job. I feel there is so much I could do if I did not have to go through so much red tape. I feel so useless sometimes. I sit back in my office going through my files, so many files. Trying to sort out fact from fiction. Trying to make the legal system work. All these cases have names and faces. The victims faces haunt me sometimes. Weeks of work can all be for nothing because a witness disappears or is frightened off and changes their testimony. The case is then dropped or they plea bargain. Where's the justice in that? The victims come to see me to find out what went wrong with the justice system and I don't know what to tell them. I tell them to have faith, but how can I keep telling them that when my own faith is gone." Catherine took a deep breath, then looked him squarely in the eye. Never taking her eyes from his face she said. "I'm thinking about handing in my notice." Without pausing for breath she continued. "There is so much I can do. You know I have money Vincent. More than enough to see me through several lifetimes. There is a way I can help people more."

Vincent interrupted her then, unable to keep quiet any longer. "Catherine what are you saying? You love your job. How can you say you do not make a difference, when you know you do." Catherine's heart dropped, how was she to convince him that what she was doing was right for her, so in turn would be right for him.

He saw from the expression in her eyes and the feelings coming to him from the bond that she was upset. "I'm sorry Catherine. I promise not to interrupt again, please continue."

"I've been thinking over these last few weeks, that what I do for the victims is so limited. I could do so much more for them if I worked for myself or with a few trusted colleagues, or a few trusted helpers." Seeing his startled expression. "What I mean is this. I would like to find a small office and work for myself. Set up a help service for the victims. A support group. To advise them of their rights. Where to go to for help."

"Don't you do that already Catherine?"

Catherine got up, unable to sit any longer, and began pacing again. Vincent looked on, concerned. Sitting down beside him, they both turned to face each other. "But I feel I can do so much more Vincent. I want to be able to help first hand. Most of the victims I see, like the battered wives, stay with their husbands because they have no one they can turn to or no where to go. They have no way of supporting their children or themselves, while they get their life back together. It's an ever increasing circle of violence. Children of battered wives or children who are abused, turn into the abusers themselves because they feel it is normal and the pattern is repeated over and over again." Catherine paused for a second to scan his face, but, unable to read his unique features, carried on quickly. I want to break the pattern. If I can show these women that I am willing to back them up, financially and give them all the legal advice free; if necessary represent them in court, I can do more good. I can use my own money to set the support group up. Perhaps get some students to volunteer their services. It would be a great way to kill two birds with one stone so to speak. The students would get to practice law and the victims would get all the legal advice they would need. I would like to give free legal advice to anyone who needs it. There are so many people out there who have no where to go." Pausing only for breath Catherine continued. "I don't need the money. It will do more good this way. I know there are other charities and other groups dealing with the same things I have touched upon, but there is never enough."

Catherine reached for his hand, then looked at him. "This way I will be off the streets. I will not need to put myself in the firing line. If there was need for that kind of work, I could authorize a private investigator to be used. I could set aside funds for that. I would never again knowingly put you in the position of you feeling you have to rescue me. Never." Vincent was about to protest, when she stopped him with her finger to his lips. "This way I can involve you as well as the helpers. Often you know of helpers and people in need. Most people are proud and won't accept charity. You could help me find ways of helping them with which they are comfortable."

Vincent spoke then, unable to keep silent any longer. "Why did you not speak of this before?"

Catherine dropped her eyes and found something very interesting in her lap. Her voice was a little tremulous as she spoke. "I... I did not want you to be disappointed in me. I am a stronger person because of you. I did not want you to believe that I was just giving up. It's important to me what you feel about me. I never want to let you down."

"Catherine how can you say that. I could never think any less of you." He pulled her into his lap without pausing for breath. "Are you certain you wish to do this?"

Catherine looked at him. "I'm not certain of anything. I only know what I feel. I believe I would be of more use this way, at ground level so to speak, to get involved on a personal level. It sickens me to see these animals get away with it and the victims are left to flounder, to find their own way." Her fingers were entwined tightly together in her lap to stop them shaking. "I have been in touch with a few of the agencies that deal with this sort of thing. Also the charity organization's for advice and help." Pausing to gather her thoughts she continued "I know many rich and influential people. With my connections I am sure I can get them to contribute to my project on a regular basis and with donations from the public, I am sure I can make it work. So many of the organization already in existence only work office hours, nine to five. Her eyes lit up with excitement "I want to set up a network of places for people to go to night and day when needed. I know it is going to be hard to begin with. It will probably take months to set up, but it is something I want to try." Catherine looked at him and smiled shyly. "What do you think?"

His look was intense. Full of wonder. "Catherine... this is a monumental task you wish to take on... so much hard work." To himself he thought, 'for someone so small', but dismissed it almost at once. He knew the strength of Catherine's character her determination to succeed at anything she set her mind to. If Catherine was really determined, she would triumph. He knew this deep within his heart. To Catherine all things were possible. He felt his heart swell with pride for this woman in his lap. He marvelled at her courage to face things that would have driven others to despair. Catherine wasn't just spouting platitudes, she genuinely wanted to help the people whose lives had been dealt a cruel blow.

"Catherine I know if you really wish to do this, you will succeed... I know you will. How could you think I would not support you in this... or anything you chose to do." He stopped for a moment gathering his thoughts together. Holding her hand more firmly, never taking his eyes from her face, he continued. "You have the strength Catherine... You do. I... am very proud of you… you never fail to amaze me with your strength and courage."

Catherine felt the tears sting her eyes and blinked several times. She fought the urge to kiss his face all over.

"Oh Vincent you don't know what it means to me to hear you say that. I love you." Every time Vincent heard her say those words to him, his heart would skip a beat. He always found it so difficult to believe, that a woman so beautiful as was Catherine, could love him and openly admit it to him. But knew it was true none the less. He only wished he could do the same. Vincent had never said those words to Catherine. Just couldn't bring himself to do it. He felt so unworthy of her love. But the words rang out loud in his heart and soul. I love you Catherine.

Vincent held her tightly. Cupping her head against his shoulder; enjoying the feel of her soft shiny hair beneath his fingers, his thumbs lightly grazing her cheek. He lifted her face to see her clearly and knew she was crying. His hand came up to gently brush the tears away with the backs of his furred fingers

"I did not mean to make you cry... forgive me."

"Oh Vincent these are happy tears, tears of relief."

"Why tears of relief Catherine?" he asked, puzzled.

"That you still love me Vincent. I know you have never said the words, but I know you do." It seemed so right to reach up and kiss him. His unique lips were so warm and inviting. As their lips met she breathed into his mouth.

"I love you Vincent." The jolt that ran through her surprised her in its intensity. The kiss was brief, but left her with a taste for more, much more. Catherine felt him stiffen and opened her eyes to see him looking down at her. Vincent stood up quickly, holding her against him, then placed her down next to him. He turned away from her unable to look at her.

"Why Vincent? why do you pull away from me? Is my kiss so repulsive?" Vincent whirled around to face her. The long strands of his hair whipped against her face, causing her skin to tingle from the contact. The look of anguish on his face broke her heart.

"No Catherine... don't ever think... that... It is not... you."

"Then what Vincent? can you tell me?"

"I... I can't Catherine. Please forgive me... I must go."

"No don't go. I'm sorry, please don't go. I won't do it again, I promise. Panic stricken. Please don't go."

"I... I think it best Catherine." Giving her no time to answer, he turned away from her to hurry through the bedroom to enter the bathroom. Vincent collected his boots from beside the door. Then sat down on the hamper to put them on. They were still damp. His cloak followed quickly. He stood for a second and stared back at his reflection, before angrily turning away. Vincent glanced at the bed once as he left the bathroom, his fingers trailing along the sheer gown lying across the bed. 'If only,' he thought shaking his head in despair. To upset Catherine so, was tearing him in two. Catherine had to be protected at all costs.

As Vincent came out of the bathroom he could see that Catherine was still standing where he had left her, by the couch. She ran towards him. "Please Vincent don't go. We must talk about this." Wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Catherine don't... you don't know what you ask of me."

"Can't you tell me? I love you, I always will. Please talk to me." He pulled her arms away from his neck, stepped back and began to pace. Catherine stood, watching him. Hoping to ease his agitation, she poured all the love she felt for this gentle man through the bond. Vincent stopped pacing and looked at her, his clear blue eyes misty with tears.

"Catherine my greatest fear has come to pass... I know your needs. I... I have felt from time to time... your desire for me. But... but this can never be." He opened up his arms and gestured to himself. "Look at me Catherine... This can never be." Catherine made as if to go to him. "Don't, please... don't come any closer" and turned his back on her. Her feelings beginning to affect him. He could no longer look at the hurt and despair in her eyes.

"Vincent you know I love you. Will always love you. The desire you feel from me is only natural, I want you." Catherine paused, her heart beating wildly in her chest. In a voice that was a breathless whisper, she asked.

"Is it me? Is the act of physical love offensive to you?... is your love for me the same as you give to others? I need to know Vincent because I don't want to lose you. I love you too much for that. If I have to push my desires aside, I will Vincent. I can do it, for you. Just don't leave me. I can't live without you. You are the only thing that is right in my life." She was almost sobbing now. "Please don't leave me... I'm sorry."

Vincent's heart was breaking. How could he do this to her, hurt her so? Catherine was being so brave. Didn't he ask her to tell him what was wrong. Always helped her to face her fears. What was he doing now, refusing to face his own. Be could do no less for her. Vincent turned to face her, his body shaking under the intensity of both their emotions.

"Catherine don't do this to yourself. Your love is everything to me."

"Then why won't you let me love you? I want our life together. You said that when we had faced all our fears and moved through them, we could be together. It was always our dream, well I used to think so. I want to know. I want to understand why you cannot love me, please. I need to know." The tears were streaming down her face, vetting the delicate silk at the collar of her blouse. She brushed them away angrily with the backs of her hands. She was falling to pieces in front of his eyes. It was tearing her in two knowing she was hurting him, but she had to know. She was hurting too. "Tell me! Tell me." The anger was rising as he refused to answer her.

Vincent made to turn away, towards the balcony doors. Catherine thwarted his move by standing in front of them. Her eyes flashed with anger as she realized he was about to leave with the situation unresolved between them. Catherine knew if she let Vincent leave now, she probably would not see him for quite a while. He would want to dissected all that had been said tonight and for once she was not going to let him get away with it.

"Talk to me damn it! Talk to me."

Anger towards him from Catherine was a new experience to Vincent. He had always felt her love, her exasperation towards him sometimes, even fear for him, but never anger. They had never really argued before, simply because he would walk away, never wanting to face the issues. What could he do? He knew Catherine would not move out of the way and he would not physically move her. Touching her was the last thing he wanted to do. If he lost control now he would never forgive himself. But he felt she deserved some answers even if he found them difficult to deal with. Even if they were not what she wanted to hear. Vincent braced his feet more firmly to the floor in an effort not to just run away. Run from the moment he knew would mark the end of their relationship and he was dying inside. Vincent raised his head to look at her. Catherine stood defiantly in front of him, close enough to touch, although he made no effort to do so. He looked into her beautiful green eyes, still moist with tears. His heart thudded in his chest.

"What would you have me say?"

"The truth Vincent, nothing else will do." He stepped away from cloak swinging against his legs as he began to pace. Catherine did but stood her ground. She knew this was his way of formulating his thoughts. Vincent stopped pacing and stood far enough away from her to be out distance. His hands curled into tight fists, his claws biting into worn palms. Taking several deep breaths he looked directly at her.

"Catherine it is not you... it is me. I... I do find you desirable... how could you think I would not? You are my heart and soul, without you I am nothing. But... but what you ask is impossible. The dream we had... is just that... only a dream." With those words he had surely ended his own life. As surely as if he had put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger. The pain was overwhelming, but to save Catherine he would hold it inside for now. "This has been my fear all along... that what we share would not be enough for you. I have led a sheltered life Catherine, but I am not blind to your needs... Needs I cannot fulfil."

"No Vincent you can't mean that?" Her anger dissolved to fear. Fear of losing him.

"Catherine I cannot be what you want me to be."

"Why! Just tell me why," she said in desperation as she moved towards him. "Look at me Catherine. Look at these hands." He held his hands towards her, palms up, with the lethal claws in clear view. "These hands have so much blood on them Catherine. They have killed and maimed. These hands are not meant to give love. How can you want these hands upon you... caressing you. They are ugly and I will not allow them to taint your beauty."

"Don't say that. What you did you did, in my name, in my defence and I would do no less for you, if I had your strength. If anyone is to blame it is me. Can't you see that."

Vincent began to pace again. Then he stopped dead in his tracks to face her. His voice was sharp, more gravely than usual. He had to make her see.

"It was not you that used these hands to kill Catherine... You would not have used them in the way I did. You did not lose control, become lost in the darkness until all of you is eclipsed by the need to kill in the act of revenge for... touching... you. His breathing was harsh, laboured. Catherine stood calmly never taking her eyes from his face.

"No Vincent I would not have used my hands. I'm just not strong enough for that." With deliberate slowness she continued. "I would use my gun. It's just as deadly. I would do anything to protect you I would use my gun and not think twice, or use any other weapon available to me. Don't you see I carry my weapons with me, in my coat or purse. It is no different to you using the weapons available to you. Your hands and strength. You have never hurt anyone unless in protection of me or your home and most of all in defence of your own life." Catherine closed the distance between them and held his hands in her own. He pulled his hands away abruptly and turned from her. "It's more than that, isn't it Vincent? We've come this far, please tell me."

"What you said, is not strictly true, is it Catherine. I've hurt Devin." Catherine could hear the pain in his voice, saw him shudder visibly. "And then Lisa... I've even hurt Father."

Her mind was in a whirl, she was losing him. She had to do something fast, before it was too late. Catherine moved around to face him. His face was covered by the curtain of his hair as he bent his head in shame. Her heart broke to see him like this. "Listen to me Vincent," she said in a soft voice. "When you hurt Devin you were a young boy. Devin was older than you and should have known better. You only retaliated, when Lisa flirted with you. When you reached for her she pulled away." Vincent began to say something but Catherine silenced him with her finger to his lips. His breathing was laboured and the tips of his large canines were clearly visible. This in itself told Catherine how upset he was. He always took great care to hide his differences.

"When... when you hurt Father, it was beyond your control Vincent. Paracelsus with his drugs. He made sure of that. What you must remember is this. You never hurt me. Even when your rage and delusions were at their worst, you never hurt me. You let me walk right up to you, put my arms around you. I knew then you would never hurt me, could never hurt me. I have known you for three years and not once have your hands or your claws hurt me. Even when you have exerted all your strength to get me out of some danger or other, you have never so much as scratched me. Hell Vincent you have never even caught them on my clothing!" His eyes shone with a desperation to believe. He loved her so much.

"I would die rather than hurt you Catherine. I… will not... cannot allow myself to touch you in that way. I know little of physical love. All I have read only leads me to believe that to lose oneself in passion, would be dangerous to you... because of... what I am."

Desperate to reassure him, Catherine spoke quickly.

"Vincent listen to me. Yes passion is a loss of control of sorts, but it's not the same as what you are thinking." Catherine wrapped her arms around his waist. She felt him stiffen, but would not let go. With her face pressed against his chest she continued. "It's not what you are thinking. I know you believe it is your dark side asserting itself, but it isn't. To lose yourself in passion, to give yourself to another, is the most beautiful, most incredible feeling in the world. I trust in our bond Vincent. Why don't you?" Her question startled him. He felt the anger begin to rise and knew he had to get away. He was not angry at Catherine, but at himself. For his ineptitude, his fear that all but consumed him. Vincent pulled Catherine's arms away and headed for the balcony doors.

His hand had barely reached the handle when she screamed at him.

"You don't love me then after all. These three years have been a lie all along." Catherine knew she was hurting him with her words, but she was desperate to keep him there. If he left now she wasn't sure she would see him again. He could be so self sacrificing where she was concerned. Catherine was more desperate than she had ever been in her entire life. She flew at him, pounding on his chest with her fists. Surprised at the suddenness of Catherine's attack, he stepped back. The strength in her small hands startled him. Catherine was whimpering, her words hardly audible.

"If you love me don't do this to us." She slumped against his chest, drained from the rush of pent up emotions that were crashing through her like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her in her sorrow of losing the only man she had ever really loved. Her tears were soaking into the ribbed vest he wore. Vincent held her away from him. His voice commanding her attention.

"Catherine look at me." Her head came up to look at him. Her eyes were red and slightly puffy from crying. His heart contracted at the pain he was causing her. "I cannot be what you want of me. I dare not." The words tumbled out as the need to end this misery between them became urgent. "Catherine I love you with all of my heart and soul. I have from the moment I first found you in the park. I desire you beyond rational thought... I... am not like other men Catherine... you would not like my form. There are no mirrors in my chamber, nor do I wish there to be. My own image repulses... even me. I... I do not know what my origins are Catherine. We both know only part of me is a man and the part that is not, fills me with terror." His eyes filled with tears, held hers, and in a soft whisper he said. "Now the dream must end. You must use your strength... to find... someone else."

"No Vincent you can't mean that because if you do, you will condemn me, us, to a life of aloneness. What you have said is an excuse. That has never made any difference to me. I love all of you. I always will. You are the most human person I have ever met. It is not someone's physical attributes that makes them human Vincent." She pressed her hand over the heart that was beating rapidly in his chest. "It's what inside that counts. You have the most beautiful heart and spirit of anyone I have ever met. To send me away to find love elsewhere, will do no good. You are all I want. I don't want anyone else. I want you. So please don't leave me. I can't live without you."

Vincent's look was incredulous. He had just ripped their hearts in two and she was begging him to stay. He was sickened and disgusted with himself. At what he was doing to her. But he couldn't stop now. To save Catherine from himself, to make her see there could be no life together was paramount now. Vincent hardened his heart to her and held her arms firmly in his strong grasp. His sharp lethal claws bit into the cool silk of her blouse and into the soft flesh beneath. His eyes bored into hers. The usual warmth she found there had been replaced by a cold indifferent stare.

"Is this what you want Catherine? My hands on your body, my lips on yours? Then so be it." He pulled her roughly to him, pressing her hard against his length. His hands slipped down her back to the rounded curves of her buttocks. His mouth descended on hers, his canines bruising the delicate flesh of her full lips. He ground his mouth against hers, his tongue pushing between her lips to enter her mouth.

Catherine went limp in his embrace, mounding her body to his. A groan of pleasure started in her throat. Vincent pulled away abruptly and Catherine stumbled at the loss of contact. Vincent failed to notice as his hands went to his head. Pressing hard against his temples, as he staggered backwards. He had hoped that by his rough treatment of Catherine she would be repulsed by his actions and pull away. Instead, Catherine had responded to his advances and worse still his own body responses had betrayed him in the most fiendish way.

The first touch of her lips, her tongue, the sweet taste of her mouth, Had called forth feelings he had been trying to suppress all evening. It was her groan of pleasure that had bought him back to reality as he struggled against both of their responses to his kiss. He licked his suddenly dry lips and shuddered at the taste of her in his mouth. He stood trembling, wanting to go to her, but not daring to.

Catherine stepped towards him, pulling his hands away from his head. His struggle was evident in his anguished expression. Catherine pulled his head down until it rested against hers.

"Don't fight it Vincent, go with it, let it loose. You wont hurt me. Don't deny us again. Love me Vincent, only you have the right. Only you. Please love me, love me." Pressing her lips against his as her arms went around his neck she held on tightly, as he tried to pull away from her, struggling for control. Catherine held onto him as if her life depended on it and it did. She was kissing his face all over, moulding herself to him. Vincent stood rigid, fighting against his desire. But it was to much for his love-starved body to take. Her husky whispered words in his ear were to much for him. "Set us free. Set us free."

His arms came up to encircle her waist. He buried his face in her neck, kissing and licking at the fragrant skin, fighting the urge to just take her. "Help... me ... Catherine, we must not." He was desperate to assuage the ache building in his groin, but fighting against it. His arousal was swift, his erection strained against the fabric of his heavy denim jeans. His passion built into a furnace, the blood like liquid fire in his veins. He was fast losing hold on his sanity as his heart cried out to be loved in this way. His mind rebelled screaming against it. He didn't want to stop. His body cried out for release from this torment.

Catherine pressed her body closer to his. She could feel his erection pressing into her stomach. Her hands clutched at him, her body on fire with her all consuming need and she gloried in it. Her hands sought the clasp of his cloak and it fell behind him to puddle at his feet in a black ebony pool. Her hands sought feverishly to find a way under his ribbed vest to the shirt beneath. His thick, heavy belt fell to the floor with a thud, muffled by the thick carpet. Grabbing handfuls of his shirt, Catherine pulled upwards and gathered the material away from his jeans. Needing to feel his warm flesh beneath her furtive little fingers. Her trembling fingers encountered the soft hair of his belly. Catherine was not surprised; in fact she expected it.

"Oh Vincent you feel wonderful" she sighed as her fingers ruffled then smoothed the hair, luxuriating in the softness she found there.

Vincent was losing the struggle and knew it. He no longer wanted to fight it. The actions of his body were taking over urgently and he captured Catherine's mouth in a long passionate kiss, his tongue seeking entrance. Her mouth was warm and wet. His tongue swept over her perfect white teeth and searched every niche of her mouth. His heart stopped as he encountered her tongue, licking his lips in a plea to enter his mouth. Her tongue traced across his unique lips, touching against the highly sensitive cleft of his upper hp. Vincent growled deep in his throat and shuddered violently. Never had he felt such sensations. Picking Catherine up bodily against him, he backed her up to the living room wall, allowing all his weight to press against her. He was lost to the overwhelming sensations from both of them; one thought repeating itself in a litany of words inside his head, knowing he was losing control. I must not hurt Catherine, I must not hurt Catherine.

Catherine's hands moved down to the fastener of his denim jeans. Catherine pulled and felt it give beneath her prying fingers. The zip slid down of its own volition under the pressure of his erection. Slipping one hand inside Catherine caressed the baby soft skin of his erect penis with her fingers, her other hand gliding through the hair on his back. Catherine caressed him gently knowing he had never been touched in this way before. She was a little surprised to find he didn't wear underwear but the thought was lost instantly as her excitement grew.

To feel Catherine's hands and fingers on the most private part of his anatomy, decimated him. She was driving him into a frenzy. He pulled away from her slightly, to look down and see what she was doing to him. His eyes encountered her supple fingers lifting him free from the confines of his jeans, arching into her touch. Her hand squeezed the twin sacks gently as her fingers glided over his erection. His breath hissed out between tightly clenched teeth, and he ran his hands up and down her arms. The cool silk beneath his fingers was not enough. His hands went to the front of her blouse. His large fingers felt clumsy and inept as he struggled with the buttons. The need to feel her warm soft flesh beneath his fingers overrode all reason. Catherine's hands came to help him, but he batted them away with impatience. Be was making guttural growls and snarls within his throat as he gathered the silk between his fingers and pulled. The sound of ripping cloth rent the air as his sharp claws punctured the material beyond repair. The buttons flew in all directions as he bent forward to bury his face in the hollow between her breasts. His hand came up to trace the outline of her delicate curves. He was momentarily fazed by the sight of her red lacy bra. Grasping the flimsy material in his fingers, it gave way to reveal her soft creamy flesh to his gaze.

Catherine was not afraid of what he was doing or the sounds he was making. She knew his innate gentleness would not allow him to hurt her in any circumstances. Not even when lost in passion. Catherine was a little surprised at his assertiveness. She had always believed she would be the more dominant partner to begin with because of Vincent's innocence. Then she forgot to think at all as his warm breath caressed her breasts. Catherine's hands came up to entangle in his hair, pulling him closer. She felt his fingers flex over her breasts, the nipples hardening as his thumbs stroked across the puckered skin.

"Oh Vincent please don't stop." she whispered as she felt him pull away slightly to look at her.

His eyes bore into hers. Wild and glittering with his need. He was caught up in a sexual whirlwind and he was powerless to break free from its force. The sound of his own heartbeat thundered loudly in his ears. The need to finish was instinctive. His engorged flesh ached for release. Catherine's feminine scent drove him wild. His eyes dropped to her full lips, bending his head down towards her, his need to taste her rising by the second. His kiss was deep and passionate, his body moving against her erotically.

Catherine broke the kiss gasping for air, and her hands moved restlessly over the coarse material of his ribbed vest. She turned her head to whisper in his ear. "I want to touch you too." Her hand slipped down to grasp his vest, tugging at it in a vain attempt to remove it, without much success. Vincent looked at her vaguely confused. "Please take it off." Catherine tugged at the vest again, "please". Vincent's hands came down and grasped the vest and in one smooth movement brought it up and over his head. Then he flung it away, heedless of where it landed. Vincent stood still, his breathing harsh, as he focused all his attention on her face, waiting with anticipation. After pulling the shirt totally free from the confines of his jeans, Catherine began to tug at it, all fingers and thumbs. Looking down to see her struggling Vincent's hands closed over hers pushing them aside. The shirt offered no resistance as his strong hands ripped the shirt to shreds.

Catherine gasped and fell against him, pushing the ruined shirt aside. Her hands moved over the solid muscles of his chest, her fingers gilding sensually through the dense hair. She buried her face in its softness, breathing deeply of his unique musky scent. Her insides began to liquefy; the smouldering passion centering in her femininity. Her hand slipped down to run her fingers along his erection, now pressing insistently against her stomach. Vincent arched into her touch, soft growls vibrating in his chest. Catherine found these sounds highly erotic, proving to be a powerful aphrodisiac to her already heightened senses. She wrapped her leg around the hardened muscles of his thigh, unable to get close enough. As his hand trailed the length of her leg, Catherine began to tremble with the force of her arousal.

Pushing her skirt up higher, Vincent's hand traced the outline of her shapely bottom. His breath came in short pants as his fingers slipped under her lacy brief panties. Her skin was smooth and hot to the touch, the heat and feel of her urging him onward. His fingers encountered the springy curls of her pubic hair. Already wet with her excitement, Catherine gasped and arched into his hand as he cupped her most womanly place. His other hand struggled with the flimsy material. It was masking the one place now he needed to be. The little problem did not deter him, the lace no match for his sharp claws. All his senses were acutely vibrant with his passion. The claws sliced through the delicate fabric and he pulled it away from her body to drop unceremoniously to the floor. Vincent lifted Catherine high against his chest. The feel of her naked breasts pressed tightly against his broad chest, caused a groan of pure pleasure from his lips and he pressed her back more firmly against the wall, his breathing harsh. His erection throbbed to the point of pain, seeking entrance to her femininity and he rocked in an instinctive rhythm as old as time itself.

Catherine welcomed his weight. She couldn't believe they were a hairs breath away from realising a dream she had waited three years to evolve. Her lips sought his urgently and she kissed him with all the pent up passion she had been afraid to unleash until now. Vincent helped her to wrap her legs around his hips. His breath was hot and moist against her neck. She felt him tremble as the head of his arousal touched her femininity. Her hands slid up his back to grasp his shoulders, her finger nails scoring his flesh beneath the hair. Vincent penetrated her in one swift movement. Her inner muscles clutched at him, drawing him in deeper. A loud growl rumbled up from deep within his chest. His arm held her firmly around the waist, the other moving across her back and his hand cupped the back of her head. His fingers tangled in her hair and he crushed his lips to hers in a kiss that devastated her. Catherine was catapulted into a world that existed of just Vincent's touch, taste and smell. Vincent was beyond rational thought. Be gasped as the heat of her surrounded him, stealing his sanity with the sensations. He was lost in the soft womanly warmth that was Catherine. His thrusts were timid at first, but with Catherine's warmth calling to him, his control snapped and he thrust into her forcefully, his thrusts firm, almost savage; glorying in his masculinity, all his senses alive and vibrant. He demanded everything of her and she gave it gladly.

This was beyond any experience he had ever had. Vincent was deluged by feelings and sensations unbeknown to him before. His mind refused to acknowledge anything but the need to succumb to the siren call of Catherine's warm body wrapped firmly around his. He felt his heartbeat quicken. The blood pumped in his veins, setting his body aflame. He wanted to absorb her into his skin. His mouth ravaged hers as he plundered her mouth again and again. He strived to penetrate her deeper. Bracing his booted feet firmly against the carpeted floor, he bent his knees slightly and snapped his hips upward for a deeper penetration.

Catherine tore her mouth from his, gasping for breath. She strived to keep up with him, pushing downward to his upward thrusts, matching her rhythm to his and digging the heels of her feet into his firm rump. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders and pin pricks of blood escaped from his flesh. They were both oblivious to the damage her sharp nails were doing. Catherine struggled to focus on his face, blinking several times to clear her vision. What she saw took her breath away. His head was thrown back, his eyes dark clouded by his undisguised passion and he stared wildly at some unseen spot behind her. The tips of his fangs were in clear view as his lips curled back into a snarl. His hair framed his face in a wild tangled mass. Never in Catherine's entire life had she seen anything so potently erotic, so masculine as Vincent in the grip of sexual fulfilment. The raw potent power of his masculinity drew her deeper into the whirling vortex their shared need of each other created.

Vincent felt the quickening in his blood. His release almost upon him. The electricity between them, tingled throughout his body. He was sweating profusely. He licked his dry lips, tasting salt as he swallowed hard. His head dropped to Catherine's neck, kissing and nibbling on the smooth skin. He pumped faster into her, as he lost all conscious thought. A kaleidoscope of colours, shifting and changing pattern, exploded in his head as he hurtled over the edge. Roaring out loud, his head snapped back; his whole body suffused with the searing heat which emanated from it. The force of his orgasm splintered him into a thousand minute pieces, only to emerge whole again, renewed by the force of their love.

Catherine rocked against him, clutching him to her, mounding herself to him. She couldn't get dose enough. He was taking her to heights she had never thought possible. Catherine had known physical love before. Nothing could have prepared her for the force of his love, his sexual prowess eclipsed everything she had ever known. Catherine soared with him as the force of her release shook her body in convulsive shudders and his name was torn from her lips. She received his seed; his life giving force; hungrily as it pulsed into her, her inner muscles clutching at him until he had no more to give. Sparks of electricity engulfed her body and centred in her femininity. Her body radiated a white hot heat from within. Her breath hissed between her teeth as she was thrown into the whirling cyclone of her rising needs. To be scattered to the ends of the earth. To return reborn into the blinding light of her love for him.

Catherine held him tightly as he collapsed against her. His breathing was laboured as he still shook with the after shocks of their lovemaking. With her own breathing unsteady, Catherine ran her hands along his back and shoulders, smoothing down his ruffled fur in a soothing motion. This action was an attempt to calm him... she knew the experience had completely drained him. Catherine herself felt utterly sated and completely boneless.

Vincent began to stir, to rouse himself from his lethargy. He shook his head to clear the fog from his brain, the sound of his own heartbeat, beating loudly in his ears. He blinked rapidly as his eyes gradually focussed on Catherine's face. Her lovely green eyes were still hooded with sated passion. His eyes held confusion at their close proximity. He looked down at their still joined bodies and froze in shock. Oh God what had he done. He looked up to see the remnants of Catherine's blouse hanging in shreds over her warm alabaster skin. Vincent untangled himself from Catherine's tight embrace, to turn away from her, horror written in his face; unable to look at her. His own body shook violently. His shaking fingers adjusted his jeans and fastened them back into place. He took in large gulps of air as he struggled to comprehend what had happened between them. As his fingers came up to fasten his shirt, he saw for the first time its remains as it hung loosely at his sides, completely beyond repair. Overlapping the shirt ends over his chest, he tucked them hastily into his jeans. Tears streamed down his face; tears of shame and utter disgust at himself.

Catherine guessed what he was thinking immediately. Momentarily fazed she felt the panic begin to rise in the pit of her stomach. How was she to convince him that what had happened between them was a realisation of a dream that was meant to be. Catherine looked down at her own appearance as she saw Vincent adjust his clothing. She gathered the remains of her blouse, and bra together and tucked them inside her skirt as best she could, trying to smooth down the wrinkles. Hoping a calm and quiet approach would be enough to convince him all was well, she reached for his arm in an effort to turn him to face her.

Vincent pulled away so fast he almost stumbled.

"Don't" was all he said. His body still trembled, his head bowed low, still with his back to her. The realization of what he had done, sickened him. He had professed to love her, protect her always. Even from himself. He had just violated that love, her trust in him, in the most heinous way. So many emotions, so many thoughts roiled through his mind, making his head spin. He knew only one thing. He had to get away. He couldn't bare to see the disgust, the loathing he was sure to find in her eyes. He looked around wildly for his vest and cloak. Picking up his cloak from the floor, his vest forgotten, he swung it around his shoulders.

Catherine grabbed him in panic and stepped around to stand in front of him. The words were stuck in her throat and she swallowed hard against the restricting lump. She half sobbed, half whispered.

"Don't leave... you can't leave me after what we just shared, please... I love you, what's wrong?" Vincent stood rigid, his head bowed, his face hidden by the curtain of his hair, unwilling to look at her. His hands bailed into tight fists. His knuckles were white under the soft amber fur. His voice ragged, he half sobbed.

"How can... you... even look at... me?" Her hand grasped his chin, in a attempt to raise his face to look at him, but he refused. "Don't... touch me... We... must not see each other again Catherine... it... is... not safe to love me. Please... I must go."

"You can't mean that... you can't. How can you say that after what has just happened between us. We made love Vin..." Before she could finish what she was about to say, Vincent's head snapped up to face her. He almost spat out the words, his eyes cold and uncompromising. His face was a mask of self loathing and disgust, his voice sharp and angry.

"How... how can you say that what I just did, was making... love. I debased you Catherine... My... lust took over. I... had no control. All I knew was that I wanted you... would have you." The tears stung his eyes, streaming down his face to drop unhindered onto the soft muslin of his ruined shirt. Catherine reached for him again, but he backed away. "I must go. Try... to forgive... me. I..." His voice trailed off as he reached for the handle of the balcony doors and stepped outside.

For a few moments Catherine was stunned into immobility. The thought of never seeing him again railed her into action. Catherine was out the door within a single heart beat. The cold wet surf ace of her terrace did not register as her bare feet ran after him, with the wind and the rain lashing against her face. Vincent had already reached the balcony wall, with one leg slung over the side. Catherine grabbed his arm desperately, holding on for dear life. The thin material of her silk blouse lung to her body as the rain beat down relentlessly. Their eyes met briefly before Vincent turned away unable to witness the pain he found there.

"Go inside Catherine."

"No I won't, not without you." Her tears mingled with the ram, to blur her vision. She shivered uncontrollably as her mind fought for the words to keep him with her. "Don't do this to us Vincent. How can you blame yourself when it was me. It was me." She shook his wrist trying to get him to listen to her. "I begged you Vincent, begged you to love me. I... wanted you so much. I urged you on. I wanted it to happen." Her voice was almost a breathless whisper. "Please come back, don't go please." Vincent looked at her, his eyes pleading for understanding, his heart dead inside. "When... I lose control..." His voice trailed off. The rain beat down upon them unmercifully. Catherine's icy fingers held on to his wrist.

"You did not hurt me Vincent. You never could hurt me. It was beautiful. I love you Vincent." Vincent was about to say something, but in the end shook his head and pulled his wrist free from her hold on him too start the long, hazardous climb down from her apartment building, never looking back. Vincent closed himself off to Catherine's emotions, unable to deal with his own as her cries of, "don't leave me" rang in his ears. Tears stung his eyes, washed away with the force of the ram. "Come back Vincent. Please don't leave me." Her whispered words were lost on the wind as Catherine slumped to the ground turning her back against the wall of the balcony. Wrapping her arms tightly around her up drawn knees, her head fell forward to rest on her knees, and she whimpered out loud. "Don't leave me." over and over again. The wind and rain lashed against her numb body, wetting her clothes through. The only thing she was aware of was the loss of Vincent and how she was going to go on without him. She loved him so much. What had she done? She had drove him away. All she wanted to do was love him, but only succeeded in bringing him pain. She had driven him away with her own needs and wants and worse still, had blamed himself for everything. She did not deserve his love. Silently she begged his forgiveness and cried, with no inclination to move from her spot of self imposed exile on her terrace.