After the Ashes

by Ginny Shearin

From the 2005 conzine

A "What-if" story: Suppose Catherine's father hadlived.

An impeccably dressed Dr. Peter Alcott stood,looking rather out of place, in an alley near his office. He waswatching Catherine Chandler drive off with the medicines he hadmanaged to gather for the tunnels. He didn't dare go himself. Therewere too many patients depending on him Above, and this disease wasnot something to take chances with.

 

He was shocked. His goddaughter, Cathy, debutantedaughter of one of his two best friends, had somehow become a helper.As he started to walk back to his office he thought about the lastfew minutes. No wonder she had been so secretive lately. He knew ithad worried Charles Chandler that Cathy had withdrawn from so much inthe past year or so, but he had joined Charles in being inordinatelyproud of what she had accomplished with her life during that time.She seemed to have recovered well from that traumatic attack a coupleof years ago and had thrown herself enthusiastically and successfullyinto her new job. Now, Peter realized, there were things he and Cathycouldn't share with Charles.

 

Pulling his collar up against the sudden gust ofcold, early December wind, he turned and looked back to where she hadjust been, remembering the look on her face as she left. That broughtup more questions than answers. He had seen genuineconcern…maybe more concern than he felt he should have expected.There was also the determination to help, to actually be there tohelp. She wasn't just concerned. She seemed afraid for these people.On the walk back to his office he mulled that over. How in the worldcould she have become involved with the tunnels in the first place,let alone in such a personal way?

 

Had he ever heard her name mentioned while he wasthere? No. He decided he hadn't. Of course, he hadn't been in thetunnels too often in the past year, but when he had been there, therehad been no mention of a Cathy. Jacob, Peter's other close friendsince medical school, had mentioned a woman named Catherine. Itseemed that Vincent was in love. Jacob was about to say more, buttheir conversation had been cut short by a minor medical emergency.After the two doctors had worked together to set the little boy'sbroken arm, Peter had to return home, and the conversation had beenleft unfinished.

 

This Catherine was someone Jacob was convincedwould break Vincent's heart, in one way or another, and thencarelessly return to her old life. Jacob seemed to believe that sheloved Vincent, but he thought there were simply too many problems toovercome. "Vincent's Catherine" Mouse had called her, as he typicallyappeared and disappeared on a quick errand in the midst of theconversation.

 

Smiling at the thought of Vincent in love, Peterhoped Jacob was wrong. Vincent deserved someone to love him. He hadbeen a precious and precocious little boy, and despite thedifficulties life had dealt him, he had grown into a fine man&endash; though he knew some would dispute the term "man".

 

Mouse didn't seem to harbor any doubts aboutVincent's Catherine. Mouse was an odd sort, but he often had goodinstincts about who could be trusted &endash; instincts probablydeveloped in his early days of fending entirely forhimself.

 

Catherine? No. Cathy very rarely called herselfCatherine. When she did, it was usually for business purposes or insituations where she was uncomfortable with sounding too casual. Itcouldn't be the same person. Still, after this medical emergency wasover, he would have to ask some questions of Cathy and his oldfriend, Jacob.

 

All those thoughts raced through his mind in amatter of seconds before another gust of cold wind helped him shakeoff the surprise of seeing Cathy there…and turn his thoughtsback to the serious medical problem in the tunnels. Turning to resumethe walk back to his office, he shoved his hands deep in his coatpockets for warmth. Plague. How? He hoped the supplies he had sentwould arrive in time to stave off the worst possibilities. Jacobwould certainly tell him later how this awful disease had reached thetunnels, but when Peter got the message, there was no time foranything but action. Jacob was not a man given to wholesale panic ina medical emergency. He would have been quite sure of his factsbefore sending such a message. Peter knew Jacob would handle thesituation as efficiently as anyone could, but people were in suchclose contact in the tunnels that it would be hard to keep this frombecoming a devastating disaster.

 

***

 

After days of worrying about his friends in thetunnels and calling Cathy in vain both at work and at home, Peterknew she had ignored his concerns and gone Below to help. What couldhe possibly tell Charles if she didn't return? Communications from acouple of helpers with pipe access gave basic details that includedseveral deaths, but mentioned that Jacob was still treating otherswho were in serious condition. At least he knew that at the time ofthe message Jacob had survived and a doctor was stillavailable.

 

***

In the tunnels, after the crisis was over, therewas a pervading sadness for those lost, accompanied by a lot ofactivity. There were still people caring for those who wererecovering, while others were cleaning up the hospital area andanywhere else exposed to the infection. Things were scrubbed,disinfected, boiled...and an exhausted and emotionally drained Fatherinsisted on directing the clean-up activities.

 

When Catherine finally returned to her apartment,she called Peter and gave him enough details to relieve his mindabout the state of the tunnel community in general. Before he couldquestion her further, though, she claimed a great need for sleep andleft him with his other questions still unanswered.

***

 

Knowing Jacob as he did, Peter went Below thefollowing weekend to examine him and take over long enough to givehis friend time for some much-needed rest. As he expected, Jacob wasnot the model patient.

 

"I'm fine!" Father had blustered as Peter insistedon an exam. "If I needed a doctor, I would have let youknow."

 

"Jacob, you know a physician with himself for apatient is as big a fool as a lawyer who represents himself in court.This has taken a serious toll on the entire community, and theydepend on you. Now cooperate."

 

Vincent stood near Peter, looking amused at theend of the heated exchange that had been bandied back and forthbetween the two old friends, one just as stubborn as theother.

 

"Peter is right, Father." Turning to Peter, heasked with a small, teasing smile, "Do I need to hold him down foryou?"

 

"Hold me down?" Fathered sputtered. "You wouldn'tdare!"

 

"You can pick him up and strap him to theexamining table as far as I'm concerned, but I'm not leaving until Iknow your father is healthy," Peter answered, as if Father weren'teven in the room.

 

"Have it your way!" Father consented testily. "Ifthe two of you are that determined to confiscate my dignity….But I'm sitting right here. I'm not going to the hospitalchamber."

 

"We can grant you that," Peter conceded, openinghis bag with an air of victory and leaving Vincent stifling a smile."But don't go too far, Vincent...in case he decides to beuncooperative again."

 

Father grudgingly submitted to being the patientlong enough to satisfy Peter's concerns and couldn't resist an "Itold you so" after his blood showed no sign of a problem. By thattime Vincent had left to take care of his own duties.

 

"Better safe than sorry," Peter answered."Now...we're going to have some that tea Mary brought, and you'regoing to get some sleep. If anyone needs a doctor, I'll be here forthe rest of the day. It's time for you to slow down."

 

Peter poured the tea, and finally his patientdidn't argue. He knew Jacob was exhausted, and in spite of the grumpyresponse to the examination, he knew that both his presence and hisconcern were appreciated.

 

"Thank you, Peter. You've always been a goodfriend to us. If it hadn't been for you, the entire community couldhave been gone. Even with the medicine you sent, it was badenough."

 

"How did it happen? How did this disease gethere?"

 

"A young Russian sailor, merchantmarine…seemed to be a fine young man. He had spent some time inthe river before Vincent rescued him. I thought he was suffering fromthe effects of exposure. When he died unexpectedly, I did morechecking and...."

 

The faraway look in Father's eyes and the way hisvoice trailed away told Peter that it would take a long time for hisfriend to recover from these recent losses. Jacob would blame himselffor not being able to do enough to save them. Vincent would blamehimself for having brought the young man to the tunnels. The truthwas, even if they had gone through an emergency approval process, itwas likely that there would have been nothing obvious to indicatesuch an unusual problem, and the community might have accepted himanyway.

 

"Finish the tea and get some rest, Jacob. We cantalk later. I'll see Pascal and have him put out a message that I'mon call until further notice...and that you aren't to bedisturbed."

 

Father took another sip of his tea and stood,unfolding his stiff joints slowly. The last two weeks had taken theirtoll, and it appeared that the thought of uninterrupted sleep wasgaining more appeal by the minute.

 

"Thank you, Peter," Father chortled. "I don'talways make it easy to notice, but I deeply value your friendship andconcern. I believe I shall go now and reap some of its rewards."Clapping his old friend on the shoulder, he turned and hobbled towardhis bedchamber.

 

"Sleep well, Jacob," Peter chuckled behind him andwent to find Pascal.

 

As luck had it, Pascal was about to take a shortbreak and was just turning his duties over to someone else, so he andPeter were able to leave the pipe chamber and talk in quieter tonesafter Peter's message had been relayed on the pipes.

 

"I hear there's a woman in Vincent's life now.Catherine, I believe? Tell me about her. I need to catch up on thegood news as well as the bad."

"Catch up on the gossip, you mean?" Pascal teased."She's a good woman…warm and thoughtful. You should have seenhow she worked when there were so many sick people to care for. She'ssmart…gorgeous...rich.... You'd think she'd run from a placelike this, but she seems happy when she visits, and she fits right inwhen she's here."

 

"How did they meet?"

 

"I don't know if you could really say they met.Vincent found her in the park one night a couple of years ago. Shewas nearly dead. Somebody had beaten her and slashed her face, andshe'd lost a lot of blood. He brought her here, and he and Mary andFather took care of her until she could go back." Pascal grinned,looking up at Peter. "You can imagine, Father wasn't too happy aboutit - couldn't get her out of here fast enough. When she left, wethought it was forever, but she did come back…and…when sheand Vincent are together.... No. There's no way to describe it. You'dhave to see them together to understand. It's like nothing could havekept them apart. Gives you a warm feeling to watch it. Gotta go,Peter. I don't have much time before I have to get back to the pipes.Good to see you."

 

Peter stood there stunned. Catherine wasapparently his Cathy. So that's why she "couldn't remember anything"about that ten days when she was missing. She was protecting thetunnels…and Vincent.

 

***

 

It was Saturday, and by all rights it should havebeen a day off for Catherine. The medicine had been delivered to thetunnels on an evening before she was taking a long weekend, but shehad still missed a couple of days of work that week and wasdetermined to catch up. Doing her best to achieve that goal, she hadspent her entire Saturday with an unfriendly stack of folders piledon her dining table. However, folders or no folders, she fullyintended to be Below by nightfall...with Vincent. There was alwaystomorrow. That stack of folders would undoubtedly sit right there andwait for her.

 

After showering and changing clothes, she grabbedher jacket and keys and made her way to the basement. As she hoped,Vincent was waiting at the threshold to walk her to the main hub.That walk was often their only completely uninterrupted time alone,so they strolled slowly, savoring the time to hold hands and talkquietly.

 

Sure enough, as soon as they reached the hub, theymet Geoffrey and Eric, excitedly lying in wait for them nearVincent's chamber. Some of the boys had found a book of scienceprojects and had insisted on building the standard erupting volcano.They had gathered their audience in the dining hall where it had beenbuilt, and they were finally ready for the grand unveiling...or granderupting...or whatever it should be called - and a little earlierthan Vincent had expected. The only thing holding up the big eventwas Vincent and Catherine's arrival, so the boys practically draggedthe couple along the passageway.

 

When she and Vincent reached the dining hall,Catherine saw that Peter was there. He was sitting among several ofthe children and telling Kipper about building one of those volcanoeswith his daughter when she was about Kipper's age. Someone shouted,"There they are. Let's get started," and she and Vincent entered theroom, smiling good-naturedly as the boys hurried them in.

 

Attention turned to the volcano, which spewed"lava" exactly as planned. A congratulatory cheer went up around theroom and the boys began to consult on the possibility of making it doit again, boys of all ages contributing to the discussion.

 

During the ensuing commotion and conversation,Peter lurked in the background and managed to watch as Vincent andCatherine talked to the children and other members of the community.He couldn't remember ever seeing her look happier. Something aboutVincent was different, too - a different kind of confidence, maybe,and a sense of joy?...contentment? Whatever the difference was, itwas good. As he watched, he realized that even as they spoke toothers, there seemed to be an almost visible connection between them.It didn't exclude anyone around them, it just…. Hmmm...Pascalwas right. There was no way to describe it, but it was a warm,wonderful thing to see.

 

How would Charles Chandler feel about this? Peterloved Vincent every bit as much as he loved Cathy, but he had knownhim since he was an infant. Charles certainly wouldn't be able totake one initial look at Vincent, especially in this starkenvironment, and come to the immediate conclusion that this could begood for his daughter. The beginnings of a plan were forming inPeter's mind. He just had to figure out how to present it toJacob…and Vincent and Catherine.

 

When the great volcano experiment had concluded,Peter went back to check on Father, who had been awake for only a fewminutes. As Peter entered the room, Father was walking past his deskin a slightly disheveled state, running his fingers through his hairto put it back in reasonable order.

 

"I hope you feel better than you look," Peterjoked as he came down the steps toward Father.

 

"I hope so, too," Father answered with a wrysmile.

 

"Are you well rested?"

 

"I suppose. I haven't had enough rest lately torecognize the feeling."

 

"You missed the volcano."

 

"The what?" Father's hand went to his forehead."The volcano.... How could I have forgotten? And the boys were soexcited."

 

"They had plenty of company...and it was a roaringsuccess. I'm sure all of them would be glad to relive it for you at amoment's notice."

 

"I'm sure they will. I was drifting in and out ofsleep for a while. Did I hear on the pipes that Vincent was bringingCatherine here? She enjoys the children. I doubt she would havemissed anything they had worked so hard to produce. Did you meether?"

 

"She was there with Vincent. The boys refused tostart until she and Vincent arrived. And yes, I have met Catherine."

 

"Well?" Father asked pointedly.

 

"She's a fine young woman. Why do you worry somuch about her?"

 

"Because sooner or later she's going to tire ofall this, of all the problems she and Vincent have to overcome. Wherewill Vincent be then?"

 

"Jacob, I watched Cathy and Vincent tonight beforethey noticed me. I've never seen her look so happy. For that matter,I've never seen your son look so happy."

 

"What do you mean you've never seen her look sohappy? You've met her before?"

 

"I've known her since the day she was born. That'sCathy, my godchild."

 

"So your friend Charles...is CharlesChandler?"

 

Peter nodded and sat down in the closestchair.

 

"Dear God...and you didn't know...." Fatheranswered in shock and sat down in the chair next to Peter.

 

"I had no idea."

 

"Then you can see the problem."

 

"Not yet."

 

"Surely you can't mean that. You know what shecomes from... Wealth, luxury…high society,travel...."

 

"And I've seen her enjoy all of those things; butI'm telling you, Jacob, I've never seen her look as happy as she didtonight. Have you actually watched them together?"

 

"Of course I have," Father blustered. "I've evencome to believe that she loves him, but do you really think she couldendure a life like this for very long? Half her life has to be livedin secret. The only place they can move freely is here. We have noluxuries here, and it certainly isn't an easy journey from her worldto ours. What happens to Vincent when she can't take itanymore?"

 

"Has she done anything to indicate that all thisis wearing thin?

 

"No, but...."

 

"So you just assume she can't be trusted?"

 

"I didn't say that."

 

"But you implied it."

 

"Peter, I'm not the enemy."

 

"Well, apparently you've decided Cathyis."

 

"I didn't say that either," Father protested. "Ihave great respect for her. I've learned to care about her…evento love her…but Vincent is my son. I have to keep his bestinterests at heart."

 

"And it's in his best interest to have him avoidlove at all costs rather than experience it as long as possible?Would you give up the time you had with Margaret, even knowing thepain it cost you later?"

 

Father slumped in his chair and lifted one hand tohis forehead, his elbow resting on the chair arm.

 

"No," he admitted grudgingly. "I would livethrough it all again to have that time back."

 

"And don't you imagine Vincent would feel the sameway?"

 

"I just don't want him to have to experienceit."

 

"You can't protect him forever…and I doubtthat your worrying over it will make any difference, anyway. Youmight as well be easier on yourself and accept it. For God's sake,Jacob, just let them be happy while they can. Either they will makeit work or they won't. It's their business and their responsibility.There isn't a thing either of us can do except support them."

"Sometimes...after our conversations...I feel asif I've been beaten about the head and shoulders with a large truthstick. I thought this visit was supposed to help me relax." Fatherlooked toward Peter accusingly from beneath the hand at his forehead,and Peter laughed.

 

"I'm going home, my friend," he said as he stoodup. "But I'll come back to haunt you. I haven't been here nearlyoften enough lately."

 

"No, you haven't," Father agreed. "Goodnight,then. Thank you for your help...and your perspective."

 

"I'll be back for Winterfest…that is, ifyou're still having it. You've had a lot going on here in the lastfew weeks. No one would be surprised if it werecancelled."

 

"If we ever needed Winterfest, we need it thisyear. We've put a few of the older children in charge of organizingsome of the plans. It's given them something useful and entertainingto occupy their minds and left the adults free for other necessaryduties. Rebecca has started working on the candles, and now that theclean-up is complete, she should have plenty of help."

 

"Then I'll see you at Winterfest."

 

As Peter walked back to the threshold at hisbrownstone, his plan was slowly taking shape. It would take somethought, but he was Cathy's link between her two worlds. In talkingto her that evening and watching Vincent with her, he could seesomething in each of them that he had never seen in either of thembefore.

 

Two weeks later at Winterfest, in spite of thetragic loss and injury caused by Paracelsus, Peter had another chanceto observe Vincent and Catherine together, and he left with an evenstronger sense that they were deeply in love. Nobody could miss it.

 

They were both important to him. He was one of thefew people in their lives who could help them bring their worldstogether, and he intended to do just that.

 

 

***

 

As he promised, Peter began to visit the tunnelsmore often. The first visit after Winterfest was for a recital givenby some of the children &endash; a New Year's concert &endash; theend of the holiday season. They had told him about it at Winterfestand insisted that he attend.

 

The children's recital went very well. Musicalselections ranged from things as simple as nursery rhyme tunes toclassical pieces that would fall into the realm of intermediate levelperformances. There were a few minor glitches, but the childrenhandled them with finesse. Parents were understandably proud of theirchildren, and the children who had no parents were surrounded withenough love and praise from others to make them feel just as special.Vincent and Catherine spread their share of encouragement among thechildren before excusing themselves from the room to have a littletime alone before Catherine had to return to her worldAbove.

When the room cleared after the concert, Peterstayed behind with Father, hoping for an opening to bring up hisidea, and the opportunity presented itself conveniently with theconversation that followed.

 

"The children have improved since the last time Iheard them," Peter observed.

 

"Yes, they have," Father answered with pride. "Didyou see Toby? When he came here last spring, he was so shy that hehardly spoke. Tonight he stood in front of the entire population ofthe tunnels and played his violin. Quite a breakthrough, don't youthink?"

 

"I've never heard 'Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star'sound better," Peter agreed with an easy, indulgent grin."

 

Father chortled. "I do love them all, you know. Isuppose I become a bit overly enthusiastic when I see suchprogress."

 

"That enthusiasm may have something to do withtheir success. You've built a wonderful community here, Jacob. Youhave a right to be proud. You're right about Cathy. She does seem toenjoy the children, and they follow her around like the Pied Piper,don't they? She's always loved music…not always the kind Charlesapproved of, but Susan went through that stage with her, and we allsurvived it. Charles enjoys children and music, too. He would haveenjoyed this evening as much as his daughter did."

 

"So Catherine's natural bent toward such thingsmay be genetic?"

 

Having decided earlier in the evening to grasp anysmall opening he could find or create to broach his intendedconversation, Peter ventured out on the proverbial limb.

 

"I have a proposal."

 

"Dare I ask what it could be?"

 

"Let me introduce Charles to the tunnels. He'salways been a generous man. He would make a good helper,and…."

 

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Fatherexclaimed. "Last weekend you told me to support Vincent andCatherine's relationship. Now you're suggesting that I help destroyit?"

 

"How many people do you know who have been hereand haven't been fascinated…wanted to help - or have metVincent…gotten to know him…and didn't respect him and enjoyhis friendship?"

 

"Precious few…but I don't recall asking anyof them to hand a daughter over to him. One look at his daughterhere…in this place…with Vincent… Her father would takeher home, lock her in and post guards."

 

"We might need to give him time to adjust to thetunnels gradually - ease him into meeting Vincent and getting to knowhim...but you're judging the man too harshly. Charles is a good man.If we go about it the right way...."

 

"Hmph! He would more likely behave the same wayas...."

 

"As Margaret's father! I knew it!" Peterexclaimed, pointing a chastising and accusing finger at Father."You're painting Cathy and her father with the same brush, and itisn't fair, you know. Cathy knows her own mind. If you haven't seenher determination by now, you must be blind. If Vincent wants her andshe wants him, you might as well get used to the idea. I've neverknown two more stubborn people in my life - present company excluded,of course. Besides, they're both competent adults. Jacob, I love themboth as if they were my own children. I want to see them happy, andwhat I saw tonight…it was beyond happy. The love between them isalmost visible. I'll bet Charles would understand that if he saw themtogether."

 

"And I'd wager that you're dreaming."

 

"Then let me invite him, and we'll see. We need aplan, though. We can't let him see those two together rightaway."

 

"And you think Vincent and Catherine would goalong with such deception?"

 

"We'll just have to go about talking to them theright way, too," Peter grinned. "If I'm right, it will make Cathyhappy to know she can talk to her father freely. If you'reright.… Well, I just don't think you're right."

***

 

It took several visits and some intense andpersuasive efforts on Peter's part, but he finally wore Father downand convinced him to allow Charles Chandler to visit the tunnels.Knowing Vincent and Cathy as he did, Peter had decided they shouldn'tbe told of the visit until after it was a fait accompli. He wouldaccept all the blame for any appearance of dishonesty that his planrequired. Once Charles knew of the tunnels, the die would becast.

 

After a few innocent-sounding conversations withVincent, Father determined which evening the following week Vincentplanned to be Above with Catherine. Rather than calling a councilmeeting, which Vincent would expect to attend, he visited eachindividual member of the council and asked them to discuss the matterof Charles Chandler quietly among themselves. They were to stop byhis chamber and leave their votes with him the following evening.Knowing Vincent as they did, they understood that, no matter what theconsequences to himself, anything other than a straightforward,honest approach would not set well with him. Several council members,Mary in particular, voiced concern about Vincent and Catherine notbeing included in the decision, but in the end, they reluctantlydecided to trust Peter's judgment, as they always had. He did, afterall, know both the Chandlers and the tunnel communitywell.

 

On Thursday of the following week, Fathernervously waited for Peter to bring their guest. Vincent was Abovewith Catherine, and they didn't expect him home for several hours.Father was looking forward to meeting Catherine's father, buthesitant at the same time. It was hard to believe that Peter could beright about this, but his judgment had always been good before. Hecouldn't remember once that Peter had done anything to lead himastray &endash; well, there were a couple of incidents from medicalschool, but never anything to do with the tunnels. Peter wouldcertainly never do anything he thought would hurt Vincent. Vincent.There was another concern. Father dreaded the look he knew he wouldsee on Vincent's face when he learned of this visit. He caughthimself holding his breath as Peter arrived on the steps of hischamber with Charles.

 

Charles entered the chamber with Peter, lookingaround at everything in amazement as they descended thesteps.

 

Peter immediately started making introductions."Charles, you've heard me mention my friend Jacob."

 

"The one who lives out of town…but not toofar away?" Charles asked sarcastically, but obviously with noill-will.

 

Father relaxed a little and finally exhaled whenhe heard a Catherine-like sense of humor emerge from her father."Yes, I expect that would be me," he answered good-naturedly,extending his hand to Charles in greeting.

 

As he spoke, Charles shook Father's hand. "I hopeyou don't mind a lot of questions."

 

Father smiled. "I suspected you would havequestions. Fire when ready. Would you like some tea?"

 

Charles accepted, and Father poured tea for thethree of them. As he motioned for the other two men to sit in thechairs near him, he seated himself behind the desk and waited for thequestions, which came rapidly.

 

"Peter says you've built an entire community. Howmany people live here?" Charles began.

 

As Father and his guest talked, a request formedical attention sounded over the pipes. Peter pointedly told Fatherthat he would see to it, and he left the other two men deep inconversation about the community, their governing system, their needsand concerns, the arrangements for the children's care and education,the constant clanging of pipes… They were still in animatedconversation when Peter returned.

 

Immediately turning to Peter when he entered,Father raised a questioning eyebrow that Peter knew was meant as arequest for information about his patient.

 

"A touch of tonsillitis," he answered. "Nothing toworry about. They have instructions and antibiotics, and they'llexpect to see you late tomorrow morning."

 

"Thank you, Peter."

 

"Jacob has just offered to show me a few of thecommunity…chambers? Was that what you called them?" he asked,looking back toward Father.

 

"Yes. Why don't we start with the dining hall,"Father answered, rising from his chair, "and the hospital chamber."

 

With Peter following along, Charles was given atour of the dining area and kitchen, the chambers that served asbathrooms, the hospital chamber, and one of the bathing chambers. Asthey met other members of the community in the passages, Catherine'sfather was carefully introduced only as Charles, a friend of Peter's.Father and Peter were feeling guiltier by the minute, but it was toolate to turn back now.

 

By the time Vincent returned, Peter and CharlesChandler were long gone, but the next day he heard several peoplemention someone Peter had brought with him &endash; someone namedCharles. Father said he thought their visitor would become a helper,and everyone who encountered him seemed to have enjoyed meetinghim.

 

***

 

During his second visit Charles was treated todinner in the tunnels and found himself solidly in William's goodgraces when he compared the cooking favorably to some of therestaurants he frequented.

 

In the course of that same visit he was also toldthat his daughter had been found in the park by Jacob's son, Vincent,and brought to the tunnels for medical attention. After realizingthat he was speaking to the man who had saved his daughter's life,Charles promised himself he would become not only a helper, but avery generous one.

 

Naturally, he was curious as to why Peter hadn'tmentioned that important piece of information before, and he wantedto meet Vincent immediately to thank him, but Vincent wasn't at homethat night.

 

Vincent or no Vincent, Charles now knew why hisdaughter had conveniently forgotten everything about the ten days shewas missing. She was protecting the tunnels. He surprised her the dayafter his second visit by calling her at work and offering to takeher to dinner that evening.

 

Since she was working late again, he pickedCatherine up at the DA's office at 7:00. Joe was still there, too, soshe took her father to meet him.

 

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Maxwell," her father said,holding his hand out across Joe's desk.

 

Joe stood, smiled and shook his hand. "I'm glad tofinally meet you, sir. And it's Joe, please."

 

"I've heard a lot about you."

 

"Uh-oh. Am I looking at a lawsuit?" Joe grinned atCatherine, retrieving his hand.

 

"I gave her an office with a view," Charlesscowled at him in jest.

 

"She has a view," Joe answered with a completelack of contrition.

 

"Right…" Catherine chimed in. "A view of youroffice door, the water cooler, other overworked employees…butthat's only when I can see over the stack of files on my desk. Comeon, Dad. Let's go. G'night, Joe."

 

"'Night." Joe smiled and returned to the stack offiles on his own desk as they left.

 

It was the middle of the week and not busy at therestaurant that evening. Catherine and her father were seated in anarea that allowed them some privacy as they talked. When he hadfinished his meal, Charles folded his hands on the table and droppedsome new information on his daughter.

 

Catherine choked on her last bite of chicken whenCharles quietly told her that he knew why she had been so evasivelately…because he had visited the tunnels. The waiter startedtoward them to see if they needed help, but Catherine waved him away.Her heart pounded as she caught her breath. At least the fit ofcoughing gave her an excuse for seeming to fall apart temporarily.When she recovered sufficient breath and composure to speak again,she asked enough questions to discover that Peter had arranged thevisits &endash; and not a word to warn her it was coming. That wasn'tlike Peter. Homicide briefly crossed her mind before she settled downagain.

 

"Who did you meet while you were there?" shesqueaked, hoping that the less than "confident attorney" sound of hervoice would be attributed to the choking incident.

 

"Jacob…I couldn't bring myself to call himFather," Charles answered, thinking through all the new names. "AndMary, William…he's quite a cook…Pascal, Jamie…shereminds me a little of you…Kanin and Olivia.… There were afew others, but their names escape me right now. I wanted to meetVincent and thank him for saving my little girl's life, but he wasn'tthere either time."

 

So he hadn't met Vincent yet… An unsettlingthought suddenly occurred to Catherine.

 

"When were you there? What dates?" When she heardthe dates, there was little doubt in her mind that it was nooversight on Peter's part that she didn't know about her father'stunnel visits. Furthermore, she doubted that Vincent knew either. IfVincent hadn't been told, it would have to include Father'scomplicity…and probably the council's…and maybe the entirecommunity's. She felt betrayed…and manipulated. Why would theydo such a thing? Vincent. She needed to see Vincent. She needed totalk to him. Right then.

 

"Dad, would you mind if we leave now? I'm reallyexhausted, and I think I've caused enough excitement here fortonight."

 

"Are you alright?" he asked, fatherly concernshowing in his expression.

 

"I'm fine. I'm just tired. It's been a longday."

 

Charles caught the waiter's attention, took careof the check and took his daughter home. He talked nearly non-stopabout the tunnels during the drive back to Catherine'sapartment.

 

As much as Catherine had hated keeping secretsfrom her father and welcomed the new possibilities of talking to himabout them, this felt uncomfortable. She needed to know what wasgoing on…how much to say. How dare Peter make such a decisionwithout including the two people it would affect most! Her emotionalresponse had gone from shock to questioning to surprise to relief todiscomfort and concern, had passed through anger and was now reachingfrustration. She wanted to run straight to Vincent, but her Fatherinsisted on walking her to her apartment. She endured that withgrace, hugged him warmly and told him, in all sincerity, that she wasglad there were secrets she didn't have to keep from him any longer.She failed to mention that there were more.

 

When she was certain her father was gone,Catherine left her apartment and headed straight for the storage roomin the basement, descending the ladder as quickly as she could. Asshe expected, Vincent was waiting, and she threw herself into hisarms in relief.

 

"Tell me," he said, concerned at the rollercoaster emotions he had felt in her over the past halfhour.

 

"Did you know about this?" she demanded, feelingcertain that he didn't.

 

"Know about what?"

 

"My father has been taken to visit the tunnels.He's been there twice already. He knows you found me and Father tookcare of me, and he's met some of your family."

 

Vincent moved away from Catherine and leaned backagainst the brick wall in shock. "Your father has been Below? When? Iwasn't told of this."

 

"I'm relieved that I can talk to him about it now,but Vincent, I think this was planned to intentionally exclude us. Ican't believe Peter and Father would do such a thing, but it lookslike they did. We shouldn't have been surprised with something likethis. We should have been part of arranging it."

 

"Are you sure?" he asked in disbelief.

 

"Oh, I'm sure. Both visits were on evenings whenFather knew you would be Above with me."

 

"Charles…. The new helper…I didn't meethim. They only referred to him as Charles." There was a short, silentpause as the reality struck him. "Charles Chandler." He took a deepbreath and released it sharply. "Why?"

 

"I don't know," Catherine answered, her eyesflaring, "but I certainly intend to find out."

 

"Catherine.…What did they tell him aboutme…about us?"

 

"Apparently nothing."

 

"I don't understand this."

 

"I don't either, but I'm furious that they choseto set it in motion behind our backs."

 

"There is nothing I could want more than to seeyou with no secrets from those you love, but when he meets me.…I'll have to meet him sometime soon. Our dreams, Catherine…. Idon't want to lose you…nor do I want you to be estranged fromyour father because of me."

 

"You won't lose me. Not ever. No matter what hisresponse might be," Catherine assured him and stepped closer to wrapher arms around his waist. "I've wanted to tell him aboutyou…about how you helped me grow, how strong you make mefeel…how you complete me…how much I love you. Maybe now Ican. I just resent the method of getting there."

 

"How can he possibly accept this? How can heaccept me?" He held Catherine close, closing his eyes against hisrising dread as he rested his cheek on the top of her head. "I fearthis meeting."

 

"I don't fear it. My father is a reasonable man,but he's a father, and I've kept some important things from him. Itdoes make me a little nervous. Later on he may feel as manipulated aswe do, and that can't be a good place to start."

 

They held each other for a while and talked. Whenthey parted, it was with the understanding that a certain Father anda certain godparent were in for some decidedly uncomfortablemoments.

 

***

 

Not long after Vincent left Catherine, Father wasconfronted with the look that he had expected, but dreaded, for thepast several weeks. The look was worn by an angry son who almostliterally snarled the question, "When did you plan to tell me aboutour new helper, Charles? What were you thinking, Father? How couldyou invite such disaster upon me with no warning?"

 

"We'll discuss this when you calm down," Fatheranswered in the same tone he had used when Vincent wassmall.

 

"We'll discuss this now," Vincent demanded. "I amno longer a child." The familiar pacing and gesturing had alreadybegun. "Why do you continue to think you should make decisions aboutmy life without my consent? Do you still mistrust Catherine enoughthat you hope to bring her father to take her from me?" The more hetalked, the angrier he became.

 

"On the contrary, my boy. Our intentions are ofthe best. If you'll sit down, I'll explain."

 

***

 

The scene waiting for Peter in his office the nextmorning was very much the same. Both Father and Peter made theirexplanations to a reluctant Vincent and Catherine. The coupleunderstood the intent behind the plan but complained heartily at thefeeling of dishonesty that went with it. In the end they agreed togradually having Charles see each of them in the tunnels, but nottogether yet. The initial decision had been made without them. Theirchoices were limited.

 

***

 

During Charles' visit in February, Vincent wasstill not visible, but Peter assured him that he would arrange ameeting with Vincent soon. This time Charles began to hear subtlecomments that indicated there might be something unusual aboutVincent, but he decided it couldn't be anything bad. Vincent seemedto be well-loved and respected in the community &endash; a teacher,they said, and a member of the council.

 

He was introduced to more of the tunnel community,including some of the older children, and he enjoyed the openinnocence in their manner &endash; the kind he remembered from hischildhood. He took time to talk to them and was impressed with theirmanners and awareness of events Above, in spite of the fact that theydidn't live there. He was also impressed that they all had communityresponsibilities that they seemed to handle well. It was nice to seethat there was still a place, even a small one, without the kind ofpressures children Above had to face. Simply being a teen-ager hadalways presented enough pressure in itself.

 

***

 

It was time for Vincent to meet Catherine'sfather, but Peter wanted to assure that they would have uninterruptedtime to talk. That might not happen in the tunnels, so he invitedCharles for dinner and convinced Vincent to come to his brownstone.Vincent had visited there since he was a boy, but this visit wouldn'tbe nearly as comfortable as usual.

 

Charles Chandler appeared at Peter's door at 7:30.Peter's housekeeper, a woman who had grown up in the tunnels, haddinner almost ready, and he offered Charles a drink while theywaited. The men settled into the comfortable conversation and banterof old friends until dinner was served, and they sat at the tabletalking for a while after the meal. Not long after the housekeeperhad cleaned up the kitchen and left for the day, Peter seemed to hearsomething. It appeared to Charles that he might have been waiting tohear it.

 

"There's someone I want you to meet, Charles,"Peter said, looking at the clock.

 

"You're not trying to introduce me to a woman too,are you?" Charles asked in mock accusation. "Everywhere Igo…."

 

"Nothing like that," Peter laughed. "He's anotherfriend. The way you're going to meet him is a little out of theordinary, but he's a little out of the ordinary himself."

 

"What do you mean 'out of theordinary'?"

 

"His appearance is unusual, and he's verysensitive about allowing someone to see him at first, but I thinkyou'll like him. He's a very intelligent man - enjoys a lot of thethings that you do."

 

"And when do I meet your 'out of the ordinary'friend?"

 

"Now, if you'd like."

 

"He's here? Why didn't he have dinner withus?"

 

"Long story. He's in the study."

 

"Well, you certainly have my curiosity up."Charles stood, dropped his napkin on the table, and moved toward thestudy with Peter. He expected something unusual, but he wasn'tprepared for the size of Peter's mysterious guest. The man toweredabove him and was massively built, but a long black cape with a largehood obscured his face and most of his body, and he stood facing awayfrom the other two men. The lights in the room were dimmed to thepoint that Charles wouldn't have been able to see muchanyway.

 

"Charles, this is Vincent, the friend I mentioned.He's Jacob's son."

 

"Please forgive my greeting," Vincent saidquietly. "My appearance can be…disconcerting, and I don't wishto make you uncomfortable."

 

"I understand," Charles lied. He didn't understandat all, but the soothing voice that emanated from the large, blackhood held no hint of anything but a considerate, well-spoken man."Shall we sit down?"

 

When Vincent sat in Peter's large leatherarmchair, Charles caught a glimpse of what appeared to be blond hair- apparently quite a lot of it. He could also see that Vincent washolding a book. Having understood that Vincent didn't want his faceto be seen, Charles sat in a chair beside him, rather than acrossfrom him, to make him more comfortable and make conversationeasier.

 

"I need to thank you for my daughter. I understandI owe her life to your finding her and getting her help in time. I'llnever be able to repay you for that."

 

"Having Catherine among us is all the reward Ineed."

 

"Still…you will always have my gratitude. IfI can ever do anything for you…."

 

"You've become a helper. What you do for mycommunity…my family…is also for me."

 

Realizing that Vincent seemed reluctant to acceptpraise and gratitude easily, Charles changed the subject. "What wereyou reading?"

 

"It's foolish," Vincent answered, looking down atthe book in his hand. "I used to visit here when I was a child andscour Peter's bookshelves for something to read. When I was small, myfavorites were the fairy tales. Before we could read, Peter wouldread to us, Susan and me. This collection had impressiveillustrations - castles, dragons, far-away places...."

 

"May I see?" Charles asked, and Vincent handed himthe book. Charles noticed that he wore gloves and thought thatunusual, but said nothing. Although his eyes were adjusting to thedimness of the room, he could still see only enough to know that itwas a book he recognized. "Ah. I know this book. My daughter, Cathy,scoured Peter's bookshelves when she was here, too. I can't count thenumber of times Peter and I read from this book for our daughters.Cathy and Susan would sit and listen as long as they could coerce usinto reading to them."

 

"Vincent did some coercing of his own," Peteraccused.

 

"Guilty," Vincent answeredgood-naturedly.

 

"I knew it. Already something in common," Petersmiled, seeming quite pleased with himself.

 

Charles couldn't know how nervous Peter had beenabout this meeting. Peter knew that Vincent had been whole-heartedlyagainst meeting Charles this way, seeing it as dishonest, and thewrong way to go about meeting someone as important to Catherine'slife as her father. He had pointed out that Charles could easily seePeter's plan as blatant manipulation, and the ensuing resentmentcould backfire. Stating the same reasons, Catherine hadn't been muchmore help than Vincent; but Peter had finally convinced them, andthey had agreed to Vincent's meeting with Charles. Although Vincenthadn't been happy about the inherent dishonesty, he seemed to berelaxing a little. Charles was carefully respecting his boundaries,and a feeling of goodwill between them gradually relieved thetension.

 

"And what else do you read besides fairy tales?"Charles asked with a smile, placing the book on the table betweenthem.

 

"A little of everything."

 

From there they moved into a discussion of booksand found that they had similar tastes in their reading. After abouthalf an hour of pleasant conversation meandering between the threemen in the room, Charles rose and said he regretted it, but he had toleave. He had an early conference the next morning with someimportant clients, and he needed to be alert.

 

"Vincent, I've enjoyed this. I hope to see youagain."

Vincent stood, too. "That is my hope as well."

 

Charles didn't reach to shake hands becauseVincent, without seeming at all unfriendly, still maintained thatinvisible, but very defined distance. In spite of that, his answerwas warm enough to convince Charles that he was sincere.

 

Peter walked Charles to the front door.

 

"I have some questions for you, Peter," Charleswarned.

 

"I'm sure you do, but I may not be able to giveyou all the answers yet. Lunch on Friday?" Peter askedmischievously.

 

"I wouldn't miss it. I'll call you tomorrow afterI check my schedule."

 

"Goodnight."

 

Charles waved his hand over his shoulder brieflywithout looking back as he walked down the steps of the brownstone,and Peter locked up and returned to Vincent, increasing the light inthe study as he entered.

 

"I thought that went rather well. Didn't you?" heasked Vincent.

 

"It was a pleasant conversation, but I still feelthis is wrong. The man has a right to know what affects his daughter.Meeting him…it should be more open. If he resents this approachand begins to suspect that his daughter's best interests areinvolved, he has the resources to investigate things that couldthreaten our community. I'm not certain that Catherine and I havebeen wise in agreeing to this plan of yours."

 

"Vincent, I know all of you. Charles, Jacob, youand Cathy.… I've known all of you for years. I understand yourconcerns, but I believe I'm right. Try to trust me. We just have todo this slowly. Introduce him to everything gradually until he seesyou and Cathy together. When he sees that, he won't be able to denythat you belong together any more than I could. He wants her to behappy. When she's with you, she's happy. He can't arguethat."

 

Vincent left with his thanks for Peter's interest,but another mention of doubt about his methods.

 

Peter went to bed satisfied that his plan wouldwork. The evening had run very smoothly, after all. He knew he wasthe one link between Catherine's real family and her adopted family,and he intended to meld them into one. He was sure he was right, buthe had to admit to some feelings of guilt.

 

***

 

Vincent could visualize Catherine pacing, checkingthe balcony every few minutes to see if he was there. He wentstraight to her apartment, and as he had expected, was accostedalmost as soon as he dropped to the balcony.

"Well…. What happened?" she askednervously.

 

"Your father and I had a pleasant conversation,just as Peter planned. He mentioned you several times. It seems youand Susan and I all begged for stories from the same book of fairytales when we were small."

 

"How can you be so calm?" Catherine askedvehemently, playfully grabbing his vest with both hands. "Wait aminute. Susan knew you when you were a boy? She was my best friendwhen we were children. How could she keep a secret like you from herbest friend?"

 

"Would you have believed her?" Vincent asked withone of his small smiles.

 

Catherine wondered if he realized how flirtatiousthose little smiles seemed, and whether he knew how they affectedher. Well of course he knew. She didn't hide her delight in them verywell. Come to think of it, she was seeing them more often lately. Shetook a deep breath and slipped her arms around Vincent'swaist.

 

"Do you think we did the right thing…agreeingto what Peter wanted?" Catherine asked, resting her head against hischest. He leaned his cheek against the top of her head as he heldher.

 

"I don't know. We have to hope so."

***

 

A few days later Catherine had just finished alight dinner when she heard a knock at the door. Looking through thepeephole, she found it was her father.

 

"Dad? This is a nice surprise," she said as sheopened the door and gave him a hug.

 

"I can't stay long. I need to pick Kay up for aconcert in about an hour. This afternoon I found gloves you left atmy apartment last week. It's February…still pretty chilly, and Ithought you might miss them."

 

"I have other gloves," she answered, closing thedoor behind him. "You didn't have to go to this muchtrouble."

 

"But I noticed that these matched your coat, and Iknow how you are." Her father smiled as he took the gloves from hispocket, gently bopped her on the nose with them, then dropped them ona table. "And besides, it isn't that much trouble to see my best girlfor a few minutes."

 

"I was just making some tea. It should be ready.Would you like some?"

 

Charles looked at his watch, gauged his schedule,and answered, "I think I have time." He deposited his coat and hat onthe back of a sofa while his daughter went to check on thetea.

 

Catherine brought the teapot and a couple of mugsto the dining table, and they sipped tea and talked about work. WhenCharles finished his tea, he sat appearing to contemplate the mug hewas holding.

 

"What?" Catherine chuckled. "I never thought thesemugs were all that interesting."

 

"They drink a lot of tea down there, don'tthey?"

 

"Yeah. Father's British roots, maybe…and itisn't too expensive."

 

"Considering how you discovered the tunnels, youmust know Vincent."

 

"Yes."

 

"Do you know him well?"

 

"Yes." Catherine stood and busied herself clearingthe table, avoiding looking at her father. She returned the dishes tothe nearby kitchen, carrying on the conversation fromthere.

 

"He said his appearance can be…disconcertingI think is how he phrased it. Is he badly deformed?"

 

"No. I don't see him as deformed. He's beautifulin his own way, Dad, but he's different. He's very different. You'llunderstand when you see him...and it won't take long to get used tohis appearance and just see Vincent. It changes nothing about who heis."

 

"I did a pretty good job with you, didn't I?"Charles smiled, joining Catherine in the tiny kitchen. He put one armaround his daughter's shoulders and squeezed playfully.

 

"Yes," she answered, turning to face him andreturning his playful mood. "I believe you did."

 

"It sounds like you and Vincent might be goodfriends," Charles observed, walking back into the living room andputting on his coat.

 

"We are…and I want the two of you to becomegood friends," she answered, handing him his hat.

 

"If our meeting at Peter's place is anyindication, I'd like that, too. Vincent was very pleasant company. Ilook forward to meeting him again &endash; and I have to admit to alot of curiosity about seeing him face to face."

 

"He enjoyed meeting you, too." Feeling the urge totell him much more, she changed the subject abruptly. "You look greattonight, Dad. Kay's going to be proud to be your date."

 

"Well!Tea…conversation…compliments…and knowing my littlegirl's hands will be warm &endash; a trip well worth taking," Charlessmiled as he gave Catherine another hug. "Goodnight,Cathy."

 

After he left, Catherine closed the door andlocked it, leaning her forehead against it and sighing. Goodfriends… She hadn't really lied. Vincent was the best friend shecould ask for, but she had wanted so badly to tell her father thatVincent was much more to her than a good friend. She wanted to tellhim everything. Soon, she promised herself. Maybe Peter was right.Let him get to know Vincent a little better first. Then she wouldtell her dad all the things she had wanted to tell himtonight.

 

***

 

In the next three months, Charles was invited tovisit the tunnels twice and found reasons to visit another time ortwo. He, like his daughter, quickly learned to listen for hints ofwhat might be needed there, and he arranged to provide it. He rarelycame empty-handed &endash; bringing new books, new toys for thenursery, school supplies, a small gift for one or another of thecommunity members &endash; something that reminded him of someone inparticular.… On one trip he went to take toys to the nursery andencountered the charming picture of his daughter enthusiasticallyreading a bedtime story to a group of children. He stood at the doorwatching her finish the story and seeing her beset by a group ofyoung children hugging her and kissing her goodnight. She helpedSarah get them all tucked in before she turned and saw him at thedoor. This was a side of her he hadn't seen, and he couldn't resistsmiling and thinking of grandchildren.

 

"I'm impressed, honey. Yourpatience…"

 

"I love them, Dad. They're great kids. Each one isdifferent. There's something special to love about eachone."

 

Looking down into the sparkling green eyes he hadloved since the day she was born, Charles said, "Hmph! I really diddo a good job with you, didn't I?"

 

From there, Catherine and Charles went to visitFather for a few minutes before returning home, comparing notes onthe way about what they had heard that translated to needs in thetunnels. Catherine told him that Father seemed reluctant to accepttoo much from her, and they laughed about some of the methods she hadfound to avoid having Father know she was behind the help. When theyreached the lobby of her apartment building, Charles shook hishead.

 

"I wonder if all this will ever cease to amazeme," he said to no one in particular. Looking at Catherine, he added,"And I wonder if I'm not getting too old for all the hiking andclimbing."

 

"But think what good shape you'll be in if youkeep visiting," Catherine teased.

 

Charles laughed, kissed his daughter on the cheekand went outside to hail a cab.

 

***

 

Charles' next foray into the tunnels finallygarnered a face-to-face meeting with Jacob's elusive son. He hadbrought two of the books he had mentioned to Vincent at their firstmeeting, and Father had sent Charles to Vincent's chamber to deliverthem.

 

Knowing that Charles would be in the tunnels thatnight, Vincent had resigned himself to the idea that Catherine'sfather would see him...in all his beastly glory, so he wasn'tparticularly surprised when he heard Charles Chandler's voice callingat the door of his chamber.

 

Vincent's distinctive voice invited him in, buthis back was turned when Charles entered. There was no cloak thistime, just Vincent. His clothes looked very much like those of theothers, but a little more…what?...romantic?...swashbuckling?Charles couldn't think of a word that described it accurately. Itdidn't matter anyway. His curiosity wasn't about the clothes.

 

He was again struck by the man's size, and hecould sense the aura of strength and command that became morepronounced as Vincent turned slowly toward him. The mass of goldenhair he had glimpsed at their first meeting hid Vincent's face atfirst, then as Vincent lifted his head to look at his visitordirectly, Charles encountered the most unusual face he had ever seenin the real world.

 

Where had Vincent come from? This was the stuff offairy tales. He seemed to belong to the realm of the book he andCathy had loved as children &endash; with the knights and dragons,castles and spells and magic. He couldn't stop looking. Cathy wasright. He did possess his own kind of beauty. It was both frighteningand fascinating to see, but the very human look in the blue eyeswatching him drew him back to find his manners. His bearing toldCharles that Vincent would survive a rejection, but those eyes toldhim it would hurt.

 

Using all his attorney's presentation skills, hefound his voice and asked politely, "You're Vincent?"

 

"Yes."

 

"I'm sorry," Charles apologized, looking downbriefly. "I didn't mean to stare."

 

"It isn't an uncommon response," Vincent answeredkindly.

 

"Still…it was rude." Deciding that Vincentseemed inclined to tackle an issue honestly, Charles saidsympathetically, "You must dread meeting new people."

 

"On the contrary. I enjoy meeting new people.Having them meet me…is more difficult," Vincent answered. Heoffered Charles a slight smile that was intended to make him morecomfortable and motioned to a chair near the writing desk, invitinghim to sit.

 

"I brought you something," Charles said, movingaway from the subject of Vincent's disconcerting appearance andplacing two books on the desk. "Those two books we talkedabout…. I thought you might like to read them. Keep them as longas you'd like."

 

Vincent sat down in his chair and picked up thebooks briefly to glance at the titles. "I know several others herewho would enjoy reading them as well."

 

"Then feel free to pass them around." Lookingaround the chamber at the eclectic mix of objects, Charles wonderedif a story lurked within each of them. He enjoyed imagining that suchan interesting and unusual person as Vincent would have someinteresting and unusual tales and perspectives connected to each ofthose things.

 

"This place amazes me, Vincent. Each time I'vebeen here I've left more interested than when I arrived. Tell me whatyou do here. I've been told that you're a teacher…and a memberof the council…sometimes a medic…and several other things.Quite a resume," Charles smiled, settling himself in the chair&endash; and trying as hard as he could not to stare at Vincent'sface and hands.

 

"Everyone here has multiple skills," Vincentanswered. "Our circumstances demand it."

 

"I suppose so. What do you teach? Whatages?"

 

Charles was paying attention to Vincent's answers,but as he listened, his thoughts wandered. When Vincent had reachedfor the books, it had given Charles an excellent view of the reasonfor the gloves at their original meeting. The fur-like hair and thelethal-looking nails became evident. There were obviously animaltraits about him, but having spoken to Vincent once before, andseeing him now…. In spite of the evidence clearly before him, hehad trouble not thinking of him as a man. He decided it didn'tmatter. He liked Vincent, and attributed the fact that he still had adaughter to Vincent's compassion and concern for a stranger &endash;very human responses. The rest he would work outeventually.

 

Suddenly Charles realized that Vincent had askedhim a question, and he turned his thoughts to making himself a betterparticipant in the conversation.

 

***

 

A few weeks later, on a rare day off, Charles hadan opportunity to visit in some classes &endash; one taught byFather, and one taught by Vincent - and to meet some of the youngerchildren. He had by then adopted the habit of using only a firstname, as the others in the tunnels did, and was introduced to thechildren only as Charles.

 

Vincent was relieved that the children didn't knowCharles was Catherine's father. The last thing he wanted was to haveone of them blurt out something about his relationship with Catherinebefore he and Catherine had talked to her father themselves.

 

The thin ice he felt he was treading during thisvisit pushed Vincent's guilt to it's limits. He would talk toCatherine that night, and together they would decide how to presentthings to her father. It was past time to be honest with him.

 

***

 

Vincent arrived on the balcony about the same timeCatherine came out to enjoy the pleasant spring evening.

 

"Catherine."

 

"Vincent, I was just thinking about you," sheanswered, turning toward him and slipping her arms around his waist.He gladly returned her embrace. "I wasn't expecting you until theweekend. Is anything wrong?"

 

"Not at the moment, but we do need to setsomething right."

 

"What?" She sounded concerned.

 

"Your father…we need to speak to himhonestly…and it should be soon."

 

"I agree."

 

"Would you like me to be with you?"

 

"Yes."

 

"When?"

 

"I don't know," she answered, stepping back tolook at him. "Do you have a time in mind?"

 

"Before his next visit."

 

"Has something happened? Youseem.…"

 

"We were pushed to do this. It feels wrong,and… No nothing has happened," he reassured her as he walked tothe balcony wall. He took a deep breath and looked back at her. "Butit could. He is your father. He loves you. He shouldknow."

 

"Dad leaves tomorrow on a business trip. He'll begone for a couple of weeks." Catherine touched Vincent's arm. "Whenhe gets home, I'll invite him to dinner and we can meet you Belowafterward. Does that sound alright?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Then I'll speak to him as soon as he'sback."

 

Vincent nodded slightly in agreement, butCatherine caught a look in his eyes that concerned her.

 

"Something else is on your mind. Talk to me,Vincent."

 

He took a step back from Catherine and lookeddirectly into her eyes to make his point clear. Holding his hands infront of him, he swept them briefly in front of his chest. "Look atme, Catherine. Really look at me. See me as your father sees me. Howcould any father accept this for his child?"

 

"He's already accepted you as his friend. Wasn'tthat how Peter talked us into this &endash; taking it one step at atime?"

 

Turning toward the balcony wall to face away fromher, he asked softly, "Does it shame you…to tell your fatherthat you love such a creature?"

 

"No! Don't ever think that." She went to him,turned him back to face her and reached to touch his cheek tenderly."You are the most important part of my life, and I want my father toknow that. I'm anxious for him to know."

 

"Anxious?" he repeated doubtfully.

 

"Yes. I want him to know that I'm happy…thatI'm not alone…that I love someone as wonderful asyou."

 

"Sooner or later he needs to know everything,Catherine. He has met only one side of me. I hope he never sees theother, but he deserves the truth &endash; all of it. There is a sideof me that he may never be able to accept."

 

"And there is a side of me that has allowed me tocall on it. He may never be able to accept that, either. We both havethings to answer for, Vincent. Telling him about that.… I'm notanxious for that conversation. Very little about us has been easy,but we've managed this far, and I know we can have a life together&endash; somehow…on our own terms…whatever that turns outto be."

 

"You have such faith in us."

 

"Enough for both of us…if that's what youneed right now."

 

Vincent pulled her close to him, overwhelmed bythe depth of her love and her determination that their lives could bebound.

 

***

 

Catherine was handling a case involving twowealthy young men who were killing for the sheer sport of it.Convinced that Catherine was behind Vincent's vigilant presence, theyarranged a trap and intended to kill her. Vincent, of course, managedto save her, killing both young men in the process &endash; neitherof them quite as old as Michael, he realized. These killings seemedto affect him much more than the earlier ones.

 

Looking back later, Catherine realized that wasthe first sign she had seen of his impending illness, breakdown,whatever it was. Right then all she knew was that he was in agony andneeded her.

 

Vincent's mental state gradually deterioratedthrough the next month, Paracelsus and his manipulations playing nosmall part.

 

As Vincent's illness and disorientationprogressed, Catherine began to realize the probability of her part init. Thoughts of what her father knew and whether he would everapprove were suspended in favor of how to help Vincent.

 

***

 

Peter answered the phone in his office, havingbeen told it was a personal call from Charles Chandler. "Hello,Charles. What can I do for you?"

 

"Can you help me stop worrying about my daughter?She left me a note over a week ago saying that she was fine but wouldbe away a little while. I called her office and Joe said she'd had arelapse of the flu. I didn't know she'd had the flu at all, much lessa relapse. I've called her apartment several times, even used the keyshe gave me for emergencies to go in and check on her, but it didn'tlook like she'd been there. Did you treat her for the flu? Is shestaying with someone?"

 

Peter knew exactly where he had leftCatherine…right beside Vincent's bed. They could hardly pry heraway, even after Vincent regained consciousness and seemed to berecovering. "She is staying somewhere else. She's Below…andshe's fine. Vincent has been extremely ill. We were all afraid for awhile. She's helping."

 

"Well, at least I know she's safe. What's wrongwith Vincent? Is it still serious? How is he? Why is shehelping?"

 

"Neither Jacob nor I could be entirely certainabout what was wrong; but he seems to be recovering well. I'll tellhim you asked about him."

 

"I'm glad to hear it. If you're going to see himany time soon, I'd like to visit. I like Vincent. I've developed agreat respect for him. Too bad Cathy can't find someone like him uphere."

 

Peter smiled a slow, self-satisfied smile. "Yes itis," he agreed.

 

***

 

Two days later Peter called Charles to let himknow he would be visiting Vincent the next evening, and Charlesagreed to go with him. When the men arrived in the living quarters ofthe tunnels, they separated, Peter intending to check in with Father,and Charles hoping to visit Vincent. Both were thwarted in theirinitial efforts.

 

No one was in Father's chamber when Peter calledbecause Vincent had finally been allowed a bath on his own in thebathing chamber…almost. He was allowed the bath, but Father hadinsisted on being there "just in case", in spite of Vincent'sinsistent arguments for privacy. In the past day or two it had becomeevident to everyone that he was heartily tired of being treated as aninvalid, in spite of the fact that he recognized an unaccustomed lackof strength. However, even in the face of the annoyance, Vincent hadsunk down into the bubbling water of the bathing chamber's naturalspring and appeared to luxuriate in the soothing warmth.

 

While Vincent was bathing, Catherine had gone tofind clean linens for his bed, and she was on her way back to hischamber to surprise him with clean sheets after after his bath. Shewas obviously tired, her exhaustion stemming partly from the constantworry of the past week and partly from a lack of sleep. At first shehad wanted to be awake if there was any change in Vincent's conditionor if he needed anything. Now, for no good reason, she couldn't seemto sleep.

 

Charles had just rounded the relatively short,curved passage between Father's chamber and Vincent's when heliterally ran into his daughter moving quickly from the otherdirection.

 

"I'm so sorry," he apologized as the sheetstumbled to the ground, and he bent to pick them up for the youngwoman he had bumped into.

 

As she reached to accept the bed linens, Catherinerealized who she had collided with.

 

"Dad?"

 

"Cathy?" he replied, surprised. "You lookawful…exhausted. Are you alright?"

 

"I'm fine. Just tired."

 

"Peter said Vincent had been ill. How is he? I wasplanning to visit if he's up to it." The look on her face promptedhim to ask if Vincent had taken a turn for the worse, when suddenlyCatherine flung herself into his arms and wept. The sheets againtumbled to the floor as Charles wrapped his arms aroundher.

 

It felt so good to Catherine to have someone therewho thought of her first and would want to take care of her. It feltso good to be able to tell her father she had been afraid forVincent. He held her in a comforting, fatherly embrace, stroking herhair as he had done when she was a child, until she calmed enough totalk to him through her tears, her breath catching now and then asshe spoke.

 

"Oh, Daddy. He was so sick. I thought.… Atfirst I thought I might lose him."

 

"Lose who, honey?" He continued stroking her hairsoothingly. "Lose Vincent? He was that sick? I'm sure his family andall his other friends were just as worried."

 

Catherine knew her father didn't understand whyshe was so distressed, why she was burrowing her face into hisshoulder the way she did when she was desperately upset as a child.

 

"He was so weak. I've never seen him that weak. Iwas so scared," she answered. "I was so afraid he wouldn't getbetter. I don't know what I'd have done if I'd lost him."

 

"What you would do if you lost…Vincent?" heasked again, this time in disbelief. He took her shoulders and heldher at arm's length from him as if she were in grade school again andhe had to get to the bottom of a problem.

 

Catherine just sniffed and nodded, confirming whatCharles had apparently just realized.

 

"My God, Cathy. You're in love with him, aren'tyou?"

 

Another nod.

 

"Does he love you?"

 

She nodded again and wrapped her arms around herfather before he knew what was happening.

 

He instinctively held and comforted his daughteras his thoughts ran rampant. She was in love with Vincent? Vincent?He had told Peter he wished she could find someone like VincentAbove…but exactly like Vincent wasn't quite what he'd had inmind. In the space of less than thirty seconds of holding hisdaughter, his shocked senses had taken his mind from Vincent'sphysical traits to those clawed hands holding his daughter, throughthe possibility of his daughter living here and giving up everythingAbove…and even the thought of grandchildren with fur.

 

The picture of a tearful daughter and a dazedCharles greeted Peter as he joined them just before Catherine lefther father's arms. "What's wrong, honey? Is Vincent alright? " heasked as he helped her collect the sheets.

 

"He's much better. He's taking a bath. I'm justtired. I haven't slept much lately. Dad asked me the right questionat the right time to set me off. That's all," she answered, dustingoff the linens and clutching them to her chest.

 

Charles was staggered by another realization. Helooked at Peter in anger and astonishment. "You knew. All this time,you knew, and you told me nothing," Charles said accusingly to Peter."This is my daughter's life &endash; her future we're talking about,and you didn't feel I had a right to be included?" He turned toCatherine with the same betrayed look. "And neither you nor Vincentthought to mention this to me? Good Lord, Cathy, I've never even seenthe two of you together."

 

"Dad, I'm sorry. We were about to tell you, butthen Vincent was getting sick…it didn't seem like the righttime…and…"

 

"What kind of ogre must I seem, if my own childcan't tell me she's in love, and my oldest friend doesn't trustme?"

 

"Don't blame them, Charles. This is my doing, andI talked them into agreeing to it… against their wills. Ithought if you knew him before you knew she loved him.…Look…if I didn't trust you to keep an open mind and to think ofher happiness first, I would never have brought you here in the firstplace. This isn't Park Avenue, but you know it's full of good peopleand good old-fashioned values…and it's a lot safer than New YorkCity. And there's no one you can trust to take better care of herthan Vincent."

 

"That isn't the problem. You know that," Charlesanswered angrily. "Find someone to guide me back."

 

"Don't do this, Charles. Let meexplain."

 

"Explain what? How you manipulated everyone intokeeping me in the dark? How you kept my daughter from telling mesomething this important to her? How you didn't trust me tounderstand?"

 

"Will you come with me and see Vincent before youleave?" Catherine interrupted, obviously distressed by her father'sresponse.

 

"Another time. Right now is not the best time forme to see Vincent."

 

"Okay," Peter answered, holding his hands up intemporary defeat. "I'll get one of the boys to guide youback…but I intend to explain everything after you cooloff."

 

After Peter went in search of a guide, Catherinetried to talk to her father.

 

"Daddy, I'm so sorry. We wanted to tell you,but…"

 

"Cathy, what did you think I'd do? Were you afraidto tell me that you love Vincent? Embarrassed to tell me?"

 

"No!" she answered emphatically. "If his safetyweren't involved, I'd be perfectly willing to shout it from therooftops to anyone listening."

 

"Then why didn't you talk to me? Both of you areadults. Either of you could have come to me at any time &endash;regardless of what Peter had you agree to."

 

"Then talk to us now. Please."

 

"Not now, honey. Any more secrets will have towait. First rule of family discussions &endash; get over the angerfirst, remember? We'll talk later. Go and take care of Vincent. I'llalways love you…but I reserve the right to be angry."

 

Peter reappeared with Geoffrey, who led Charlesoff toward home, leaving Catherine to finish the work she hadintended to do before she and her father had crossed paths.

 

***

 

This wasn't the way Catherine had imagined tellingher father about Vincent's place in her life. Tears rolled down hercheeks and her lower lip quivered as she changed Vincent's sheets andgathered the dirty ones for the laundry. She knew her father wouldlisten later, and probably understand, but she also knew they hadhurt him, and that hurt her as well. She knew, too, that Vincentwould have felt her distress during her exchange with her father inthe passageway and that he would be concerned. Even without a bond,it was easy for anyone to see how tired she had been and to know itwas on Vincent's account. She hated to worry him with this when hehadn't entirely recovered, but he would undoubtedly insist on knowingwhat was wrong.

 

As she expected, Vincent returned hurriedly to hischamber, arriving as Catherine was smoothing the last pillow case. Hewas dressed, but not as neatly as usual. His hair was damp, his shirtwas hanging loose over his denims, and he had no belt, vest or boots.

 

"Catherine?"

 

"I'm alright," she answered. Normally she wouldhave been delighted at her first sight of him straight from his bathand slightly disheveled…in his sock feet, but she couldn't findthe joy in it right then.

 

"Tell me," he insisted, taking her in his arms.

 

Catherine leaned against him, hands against hischest, and accepted his concern and the warmth and comfort of hisarms &endash; a few tears still straying down her.

 

"My father was here. He was told that you weresick, and he came with Peter to see you. He caught me off guard, andI said enough that he realized how we feel about each other. He washurt and angry…and the things we feared would happen happened.He's gone back Above."

 

Vincent took a deep breath, and as he released itslowly, he brought one hand to the back of her neck."Catherine…I wish I could make our lives normal, but Ican't."

 

"What's normal?" she asked, hugging him tightly."Would either of us recognize it if it moved in with us? Neither ofus have ever lived a normal life. Your life has beenconfined…secret. I lived the life of a rich girl without amother &endash; never having to worry about how to pay the bills&endash; given special treatment because people knew how much moneymy father had. There were even periodic bouts of having to dodge thetabloids. My job takes me from that to dealing with the uglinesscaused by people without conscience &endash; some of the dregs ofhumanity. With or without you, there's no 'normal'. Just know thatyou make 'abnormal' feel happy. And I don't want 'normal' if itdoesn't include you."

 

"I love you."

 

"See? That makes me happy."

 

Vincent rested his cheek against her head as loveflooded through their bond. For that small moment, it was enough forboth of them.

 

***

 

After their ill-fated encounter Below, Catherinehad given her father a few days to call her. When she didn't hearfrom him, she called his office. His secretary, Marilyn, told her themerger he was working on had become a nearly twenty-four hour a dayproject that week. They finally had everything in order that morning.Negotiations started the next day, so he had left early to get somerest before facing the other company's attorneys.

 

Feeling better that there was a good reason shehadn't heard from him, she went to his apartment. She knew her fatheralways needed a few hours to unwind after a marathon preparation likethe one Marilyn had described, and she suspected he would be awakefor a while longer.

 

She started to ring the bell, hesitated, thenquickly pushed the button before she lost her nerve. When her fathercame to the door, he looked as exhausted as she had felt at theirlast meeting.

 

"Am I forgiven yet?"

 

"I'm working on it." He motioned her into theapartment.

 

Catherine didn't take her coat off. This obviouslywasn't the right time for them to talk. He was too tired, and hedidn't need to be distracted by more secrets in the middle of a bigmeeting the next morning.

 

"Will you talk to me after the negotiations arecomplete? You can come and have dinner at my apartment."

 

"So now you're trying to poison me?" Charlesresponded. His manner still held some of the hurt she had seen in thetunnels, but his answer held enough humor to give her hope. Hercooking skills &endash; or lack thereof &endash; had often beenfodder for her father's jokes; and when he teased her, he wasn't tooangry.

 

"I could have it catered," she answered with alittle smile.

 

"In that case, I might agree."

 

"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't want it to be this way.Neither of us did."

 

"I know that, honey."

 

He held out his arms and Catherine rushed intothem, wrapping hers around his neck in relief. She knew she wasforgiven.

 

"There are things you should know," she said, hervoice slightly muffled at his shoulder, "but I don't want to distractyou from the negotiations. It's waited this long. Another few dayswon't matter. Call me when you have time to spend an evening withme."

 

"Catered?" Charles kidded.

 

"I promise," she grinned, extricating herself fromher father's arms. "I'll let you get some rest now. You look like youneed it." She stopped in the doorway as she was leaving and turnedtoward him. "I love you, Dad."

 

"I love you, too, Princess."

 

***

 

It had been more that a week since that littleexchange, and Catherine was nervously waiting for her father, hopinghe was still ready to listen. He had promised to be at her apartmentat 8:00 that evening. It was summer, and Vincent couldn't chancebeing there until later. Hearing a knock at the door, she took a deepbreath and opened the door for her father to come in.

 

"It smells good," he said with a teasing smile.

 

"And it's ready."

 

Well, they were at least off to a pleasantstart.

 

Charles followed her to the kitchen door, whereCatherine was taking something from the oven.

 

"Did you make it yourself?"

 

Catherine rolled her eyes dramatically in herfather's direction, knowing how likely it was that he believed such athing. "It came from a little Italian place owned by a helper. I hopeyou like it. He sent enough for a small army. Sit down. Everythingelse is on the table."

 

By mutual, unspoken agreement, they postponed "thetalk" until after their meal, but then Charles expected to have somequestions answered.

 

Catherine broke the ice by saying, "Dad, weintended to tell you everything right after you got back from D.C.,but Vincent was getting sick. He wasn't himself. It wasn't that weintended to keep you in the dark for so long. It just didn't seem tobe the right time."

 

"I've talked to Peter. You made your own choices,but he assures me that it was under pressure."

 

"I love Vincent more than I know how to tell you.I've never known anyone who makes me feel more that I can be exactlywho I am. He only wants me &endash; no specters of social climbing orinterest in my money. No demands, no pretensions, no expectationsthat I'll change. We accept each other as is &endash; the good andthe bad."

 

"Seems to me you have to do most of the accepting.Do you honestly understand the extent of what you're giving up if youcommit yourself to him?"

 

"After a more than two years? Yes. I think I do.It's been hard for us &endash; for both of us. He's sent me awaybefore, trying to offer me a normal life, but, Dad, I don't want it&endash; not if he can't be a part of it. After he was feelingbetter, we faced some things we hadn't faced before. He finallyaccepted that I need him as much as he needs me."

 

"This has nothing to do with gratitude for savingyour life?"

 

"No. Nothing to do with that at all," sheanswered, looking down with a dreamy smile, which wasn't lost on herfather.

 

"Do you intend to live with him &endash; closed inthe earth for the rest of your life?"

 

"I thought you enjoyed the tunnels," she said, herhead snapping back up to look at him.

 

"I do &endash; to visit. I don't know that I couldlive there permanently…and I hate to think of you living therepermanently. What does Vincent say about having you confine yourselfto that?"

 

"We haven't exactly talked about ityet."

 

"More than two years, you're both as in love asyou and Peter make it seem, and you haven't exactly talked about ityet?!" Charles was losing patience.

 

"It's complicated."

 

"I should think so. I can't imagine that being inlove with someone whose existence can't be explained…someone whodoesn't even legally exist, would be anything other thancomplicated."

 

"He doesn't want to confine me, doesn't wantto…"

 

"Will you have children? I know how you love them.Can the two of you have children? What kind of children would theybe?"

 

"We haven't talked about that, either…notreally."

 

"What exactly have you talked about? Don't youthink you should talk about these things? They're important," hefired back.

 

"I know you don't understand. There are a lot ofimportant things Vincent and I haven't talked about. Things we'rejust now able to discuss. We do know that they're important. Weknow.…" She stopped to take a deep breath and exhale quickly.She was looking and sounding a little testy, too. "We don't exactlyhave role models or handy references for this relationship, you know.We just know we need to find a way to make it work."

 

From the open door in the dark bedroom, they hearda tapping that was very familiar to Catherine.

 

"Vincent," Catherine said suddenly as if sheexpected to see him any second.

 

"Vincent is here? Has he been here all this time?Why.…"

 

"He just got here. Come out to the balcony withme," she said, pulling him along with her.

 

"Just got here? How?"

 

"You don't want to know," she answered, guidinghim through the dark bedroom to the balcony doors.

 

Charles took in the incongruous picture of Vincentstanding on his daughter's balcony, right there in the middle of thecity, and tried to imagine how he must have gotten there. Eighteenstories up…and the front door definitely wasn't involved.Amazing. He wanted to ask, but there were more important things totalk about tonight. Another time.

 

"Vincent." The word was a greeting. It sounded abit cool, but not exactly angry.

 

"It's good to see you, Charles. I need toapologize."

 

"Accepted."

 

He still sounded less open than usual, but Vincentunderstood. This was his daughter's life Vincent was complicating.Charles was establishing his territory, his negotiating space. Heneeded to be firm and protective. At least he wasn't openly hostile,railing against the very thought of Catherine with such abeing.

 

"We should have spoken to you sooner. I shouldhave spoken to you sooner." He looked down at Catherine, who stoodnext to him now. "I am the problem, not Catherine."

 

It was the first time Charles had seen the two ofthem together. When Catherine looked back up at Vincent, Charles sawwhat Peter had tried to describe to him. The connection between hisCathy and this man/beast/whatever-he-was seemed to hang in the airaround them like an aura. The look on both their faces…. Each ofthem seemed to be more alive than they were the momentbefore.

 

"Dad, I'm happy when I'm with him," she statedsimply, willing herself to look back at her father, rather than atVincent. "I feel more than love. I feel whole. I feel confident. Ifeel I'm where I belong. I intend to be in his life in whatever wayhe allows it…unless I'm sure he doesn't want me thereanymore."

 

"That day will never come," Vincent answeredsoftly to Catherine. He looked up at Charles, not issuing achallenge, simply stating a truth. "Catherine and I…still havemuch to decide. A life together will be difficult, especially forCatherine, but.…" he hesitated, his carefully prepared wordsfailing him.

 

"It won't be easy for either of us," Catherineinterrupted, moving closer to Vincent and taking his hand in both ofhers. "We still have as many questions as answers, but there's a bondbetween us that binds us…as if we were meant to be together. Itwon't be ignored. Right now we don't even ask for your blessings&endash; just your acceptance that we intend to have a lifetogether…somehow…however we can."

 

"I have no choice than to accept the truth, but Idon't have to accept that it's wise." Charles was becoming angry atthe prospect of what Catherine was willing to relinquish. GivingVincent a challenging look, he asked, "How can you take her from aworld that offers her so much and confine her to a world that nevereven sees the sun, take her from her friends into your secrets, takethe possibilities of a normal family...." He paused to collecthimself before his anger took complete control. "She has the means todo anything she wants, travel the world when she wants…but shedoesn't even want to leave the city now. In the past two years, herlife has become more and more limited…for you, apparently.She.…"

 

"Stop!" Catherine raised her voice to her father,something she hadn't done often since her teenaged rebellious streak."He hasn't taken me from my world. He's finally accepted me into his.I'm not confined. In case you haven't noticed, I still go to workevery day. I'm wearing a new outfit. I went shopping with Jenny tofind it. I went to a benefit concert last week.… And I won'thave you.…"

 

"Catherine," Vincent said calmly, "your father isonly concerned about your best interests…as mine has been forme. I understand his anger."

 

All of them could see that any progress that wouldbe made that night had probably already happened. Charles backed awayfrom his accusing manner toward Vincent. Catherine leaned againstVincent, and he instinctively put his arm around her shoulders tocalm her. She rested her head against his shoulder, one hand againsthis chest, and his hand squeezed her upper arm lightly.

 

Vincent suddenly realized that he was standing infront of Charles Chandler with one arm around his daughter. It wouldbe a small thing for any other man, but for Vincent it was a major,and quite unexpected, step. He automatically started to remove hisarm from her shoulder, but he reconsidered. He had accepted thatCatherine would share his life, and this small show of comfort wouldbe a part of that life. Somehow it seemed important that her fatherknow that.

 

As angry as he was, her father didn't miss thegentle, loving gesture or the concern that showed in Vincent's eyes.Nor could he miss the immediate change in Catherine. It was as if thewoman who lashed out so sharply no more than a moment ago had simplydisappeared, replaced by this quiet woman cradled in Vincent's arm.On top of those observations he had to admit the reality of theconnection Peter had talked about...the bond between them. Anotherfact to deal with.

 

"I should go. I know when negotiations are at astandstill. We can talk another time."

 

"Charles.…" Vincent started.

 

"I haven't dismissed this, Vincent. I just.…We'll talk another time."

 

Catherine left the comfort of Vincent's closenessand hugged her father. "Daddy, I love you," she said, tearsthreatening to spill down her cheeks.

 

"I know that, honey," he answered, returning herembrace reassuringly. "I'll let myself out." Looking back at Vincentbefore he left, he added, with a hint of apology, "I'm her father. Ihave to think of her first. I have to think of...." His voice trailedaway at that point and he kissed Catherine's cheek before he leftthem on the balcony.

 

When she heard the door close, she went back tothe comfort of Vincent's arms.

 

Vincent held her close. It was all he could do fornow.

 

***

 

Catherine dreaded the next conversation with herfather.

 

Vincent insisted that her father know everything,including the worst of what had happened in the past two years, aswell as what he could see for himself or glean from others. Under nocircumstances did Vincent want Catherine's father to think he andCatherine had kept anything else from him &endash; especiallyinformation as potentially devastating as his methods of protectingCatherine. It wasn't a subject Vincent relished discussing on anyterms, especially with the father of the woman he loved, but hebelieved it necessary.

 

The last thing Catherine wanted was for her fatherto see Vincent as some kind of monster, and considering the moodCharles was in lately, he might jump at the chance to find anotherargument against him. It had to be done, though. Vincent was adamantabout honesty. He intended to speak to Charles himself, but Catherineinsisted that she would talk to him first.

 

She was there in her father's apartment again.After the initial part of their exchange, which was going better atthat point than the last one had, Catherine took a deep breath andexhaled sharply &endash; a clear indication to the father who knewmost of her habits well that she had something important to say, andwas determined to get it said.

 

"What?" Charles asked.

 

"There are other things you need toknow."

 

"Good God, Cathy. More secrets? Will they everend?"

 

"They'll end here. I promise…but thesesecrets are more like nightmares. I don't know if you'll ever be ableto even look at either of us again without...." She lowered her head,obviously ashamed of something. "Please don't stop me until I finish.I don't know if I can tell you everything if I have to hear yourresponse before I've finished."

 

"Is it really that bad?"

 

"Yes." She intended to speak clearly, but heranswer came in a hoarse whisper. Gathering her strength again beforeshe continued, she asked, "Do you remember one of my firstcases…the man who was behind the attack after Tom'sparty?"

 

Do you think I could forget how hard you worked tobuild the case against your attackers? I was so proud of you. Yourwitness was killed, wasn't she? But not the same way as her killers.Didn't they find them downstairs? Something else had killed them. Youwere lucky not to be there."

 

"No more now, Dad. Okay? Just let metalk."

 

Catherine saw her father's expression changesuddenly. He had apparently remembered the details of how the men hadbeen killed, and she could imagine that Charles' blood rancold…that he suspected what was coming."

"Somebody had followed when Carol was escorted tothe brownstone. When I went to take her some groceries later, I foundher. She was dead, and the killers were still in thehouse."

 

"None of the reports mentioned that you werethere."

 

"No interruptions…remember? No one knows Iwas there after she died. I ran from those men, tried to hide, usedeverything Isaac had taught me…and I had almost gotten pastthem, when one of them caught me. Vincent had felt my fear when Ifirst realized they were there. He knew I was in danger. That hole inthe basement wall…he knocked it down coming to help me. I wasfighting as hard as I knew how, but there were three of them. Thesame men who had attacked me before were there…attacking meagain. Vincent killed them all...no weapons...just hisstrength…and his hands. It was over in a couple of minutes. Iwas in shock…and so was he. He's protected his family Below, buthe'd never done anything quite like that before. He was soashamed.… I looked around at all the bodies, the carnage in ourpath… I knew what he'd done, but all I could think of wasVincent. I couldn't let him be caught there."

 

Catherine glanced up at her father through thehair that had fallen toward her face.

 

He looked pale and shaken. She need not worryabout more interruptions. He was speechless. He couldn't haveinterrupted her right then if he had tried.

 

Feeling consuming shame, she immediately lookeddown again before going on. "It wasn't the only time it happened.He's so connected to me… When he knows someone is threateningmy life, rage takes over...and he's so strong…it doesn't takelong for him to do a lot of damage. Vincent is what happened toStephen, too. He didn't kill Stephen because…." She took a deep,resigned breath before she continued. "…because I stopped him."

 

Charles turned and found a chair. He dropped intoit as if all his bones had disintegrated.

 

"I'm a part of it, too. I don't know whatpossessed me. First I felt I had to prove to the DA's office that Icould handle anything they gave me. There were some cases that wereso important…we had worked so hard and were so close that Icouldn't back down. A lot of it was that I had to prove to myselfthat I could face fear. I put myself into some bad situations acouple of times and it drew Vincent to protect me. Even knowing theconsequences, I still put myself in those situations. Most of thetime I couldn't have predicted that there would be danger, but theresults were the same. It was all because of me…done to protectme…and I think it had a lot to do with his illness. I had to bethere to take care of him. It was all my fault."

 

"Are you finished? Is that all?" her father askedsoftly, his face drained of most of its color.

 

"I could list dates and places, but it would beredundant."

 

"My God. All those newspaper articles aboutmaulings…? None of them mentioned you. The subwaykillings?"

 

"Not the subway killings…but all the others."She was still looking down, fiddling with her fingernails. "And mostof the others…I was there. I just left with Vincent beforeanyone knew. Daddy, I'm sorry. I never wanted you to know. I didn'twant you involved, but Vincent insisted that you know everything. Hedidn't want you to feel we had hidden anything else fromyou."

 

The tone of her father's voice told Catherine thatanger was beginning to rise from the shock.

 

"So he sent you to do the dirty work instead oftelling me this himself?"

 

"No. He wanted to talk to you, but I couldn't bearthe thought of the way you'd look at him. I insisted on telling youalone. I'm not sure I can bear the thought of the way you'll look atme." There was a short pause. "Besides that, I knew he'd accept allof the responsibility…wouldn't even hint that any of the blamecould be mine. You needed to hear that, too."

 

"How do you live with all this, Cathy.It's…"

 

"Don't say it…please," she begged, finallylooking up. "I know what it is. I've seen it. I don't need to hearthe words."

 

"What do you expect from me? How amI…"

 

"Just know that I'm guilty, too…that I drewhim to it. All of those people were in the act of trying to killsomeone…usually me…but that doesn't make it right. I knowthat."

 

"How can you be sure what would happen if he wereangry with you &endash; or if you were in his path when he's angrywith someone else? My God, he could rip you to pieces."

 

"The same thing that draws him to me keeps himfrom hurting me. I've seen him in some pretty bad conditions, and ifI touch him or say his name, he knows me…and he knows not tohurt me - no matter how he relates to anyone else."

 

"That bond thing?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"You saw all those killings?"

 

"Yes."

 

"And you still love him?"

 

"With everything I am."

 

"How could you love that?"

 

"You've been around him, Dad. What you've seen iswho he is unless someone he cares about is in danger. Your friendDarrell just retired from the army. You only know him as afriend…a former neighbor...a family man. He's been inwars…in battle. Have you ever imagined him actually shootingpeople &endash; maybe having to stalk them like prey and fire a gunat them before they can do the same thing to his soldiers? Youweren't there to see the mangled bodies their grenades may have leftbehind when he and his troops were defending their unit. Is he anyless a good man…any less a friend when you have to think aboutit?"

 

He knew she had made a valid point…and heunderstood that she was alive to make it only because Vincent hadseen to it that she was safe. But the way he did it… Charles'stomach churned at the thought. Five minutes ago he would haveunflinchingly described the perpetrator of those killings as amonster. Now he had to reconcile that with the gentle man he hadvisited in the tunnels…the one who so tenderly responded to hisdaughter on her balcony the first time he saw them together. To addto the confusion, he had to reconcile himself to the idea that hisown daughter had seen most of it happen…had been the reason ithappened…had helped the killer escape. And she was in love withthe "monster"… who didn't seem like a monster. She said this wasthe last of the secrets. Good Lord, he hoped so. If he heard any moresecrets of this magnitude, they'd have to lock him awaysomewhere.

 

Catherine looked at her father, who was sittingwith his head turned away, staring blankly across the room. She wasbeginning to understand a little of how Vincent felt when he askedher to leave after those attacks. Maybe she could talk him intotaking her to that nameless river for a few days toregroup.

 

"Do you want me to leave?"

 

"I do need some time to absorb allthis."

 

"Is it okay to kiss you good-bye?"

 

Catherine saw Charles look up in surprise at thatquestion. Tears were glistening in her eyes. She felt transported tochildhood…times when she had done something wrong and was afraidhe'd be angry with her. She thought she must have been wearing thesame look, too, because he rose from the chair and had his armsaround her almost in one move.

 

"Honey, it's always okay to kiss your father. Ashard as it was for me to hear all this, I know how much courage itmust have taken for you to come here and tell me."

 

Catherine still looked as if she might be afraidhe couldn't love her now that he knew.

 

"I'll always love you…no matter what," heassured her and kissed her forehead.

 

"This was a lot more 'what' than anybody ought tohave to love me through," she answered through tears of relief as shesnuggled against him.

 

"I said I'd always love you. I didn't say that Iwon't need a stiff drink after you leave," Charles answered wryly,hugging her close to reassure her.

 

***

 

No matter how much progress they seemed to make,subsequent conversations always ended in the same place.

 

"Cathy, you're a child of sunlight and springbreezes. I can't bear to think of you locking yourself away in thebowels of the earth - even for love. And the secrets.… How willyou live with that for decades? Your friends will tell you abouttheir husbands and children, and you can't tell them anythingabout…"

 

"I've lived that way for nearly three years. I'mbecoming very good at it. And I wouldn't be locked away. It isn'tsome possessive cult down there. You know that by now. Everyone isfree to come and go as they please. Vincent and I will figure it out.We don't know how yet, but we'll make it work. If I continue to liveAbove, I need to find a safer way for Vincent to reach me, anyway.It's too dangerous for him to keep coming to my balcony. He's beencaught Above before, and barely escaped with his life." She realizedshe had been pacing, a habit she had, no doubt, picked up fromVincent.

 

"Are you at least talking about itnow?"

 

"Yes."

 

After several of these frustrating conversationswith her father during the past month, Catherine had a revelation. Inspite of all his objections, her father wasn't voicing much in theway of objections to Vincent himself &endash; her double life, hersacrifices, her disappearing into the underground society, thethought of children - but nothing specifically about Vincent himselfor the killings. How strange.

 

In truth, Charles had had that revelation himself,and it had taken him by surprise as well. He'd had a brief, butrevealing conversation with Vincent about the rages he felt inprotecting Catherine. He had thought about it often and had spoken toFather(who, after watching her return unscathed from that cavern, hadfinally come around to Catherine's point of view) about thepossibility that Vincent could hurt her. Charles thought a lot ofthings through, taking several into consideration &endash; not theleast of which was the fact that he still had a living daughter. Hewondered exactly when it was that he had taken leave of his senses.His daughter had fallen in love with someone who had traits of adifferent species and had admitted to killing with his bare hands forher protection, yet with the exception of his thoughts ofgrandchildren, his overall objections were of an entirely differentnature. He decided he and Cathy must both be daft.

 

One night in early December, he answered his doorto find Kipper, candle in hand, inviting him to Winterfest. He shookthe young man's hand and thanked him, promising to attend.

 

In the two weeks before Winterfest, Charles did alot of soul searching about Vincent and his daughter. He began toreexamine his position. Catherine had made some bad choices in theman department in the past. Those men were social climbers,interested as much or more in his money and social position as theywere in his daughter. He had finally realized that Tom Guntherbelonged in that category. Then there was Stephen Bass…ElliotBurch… Those men could give her a life in a normal world, but atwhat cost to her? Not one of them gave her as much of himself asVincent. Not one of them gave her the look he saw on her face whenshe was near Vincent. Not one of them was willing to give her thefreedom to make her own choices or was willing to put her needsbefore his own. He had to admit, in spite of himself, that hecouldn't really see Vincent insisting that Cathy limit her life inany way she didn't choose of her own volition. Being painfully honestwith himself, he couldn't even see Vincent allowing her to limit someparts of her life based on decisions she had already seemed to make.From what Cathy said, Vincent seemed to want what was best for her,no matter what he wanted for himself. It was hard to find fault withthat when it came to his little girl. So where did his objectionsstand?

 

***

 

Winterfest was in full swing, and Charles wasstill fascinated at the things he found in the tunnels. Where in theworld had those stairs come from…and this hall? The tapestriesseemed to be a mystery, too. And the picture of Vincent lifting thebar from the door, the strength that required &endash; that was hardto get out of his mind.

 

The things Cathy had told him about how Vincenthad protected her went through his mind, too. He had now seen thekind of strength that accompanied the rage she described. It was hardto reconcile that picture with the only one he had seen - a gentleman who loves his family and has infinite patience with theirfrailties…and very little patience with his own - a man whowould always put Cathy before his own life. The two images weredifficult to square with one another. He could only justify it, asCathy had pointed out, as he would see soldiers, who had a similardilemma to overcome. The difference was that their dilemma was alegal one.

 

Having completed several serious discussions withhimself before he arrived, and having come to the conclusions hefelt he could accept, Charles found Vincent briefly standing alone.Taking advantage of that rare moment, he took Vincent's arm andguided him away from the crowd where they could talkprivately.

 

"You've been seeing my daughter for three years,now, Vincent. What are your intentions?"

 

Vincent didn't know how to answer. He knew thatCharles had accepted him as his close friend, but he still wasn'tsure Charles could bear the thought of his daughter spending her lifewith someone not entirely human.

 

"I intend to love her and watch over her until mylast breath, to protect her and care for her as long as Ilive."

 

"And…? Is that it? Do you intend to make apublic commitment to her? If she's willing to severely complicate herlife to keep you in it, don't you think she deservesthat?"

 

"You can accept this for your daughter?" Vincentasked in surprise, motioning toward himself as he looked around thehall. When he looked back at Catherine's father, he dared to feelhopeful.

 

"Do you think I have a choice? I'm sure you'veencountered Cathy's iron will and determination at one time oranother yourself." The two men shared an understanding smile at thatremark.

 

"Catherine belongs to both of our worlds. I don'twant to confine her…to force her to choose."

 

"From what she tells me, you've been making allthe choices for her…deciding what's best for her… She's hadenough of that from me. She doesn't need another father. Before shecan make a choice, young man, the choices have to be offered." Atthis point in the conversation Charles caught himself poking a fingerinto Vincent's very solid chest to make his point more clearly."Allow her to decide for herself."

 

"You can accept me as a partner for yourdaughter?"

 

Charles looked down before he answered, trying toput aside images he would rather not have to think of. "The two ofyou have told me things that were disturbing…things she takesequal responsibility for…things I have trouble coming to termswith. But those things saved her from death again. I have to begrateful for that." He paused for a few seconds before going on."Vincent, how could I deny her the kind of love the two of you share.When she talks about you, it's as if a light comes on in her soul.She hasn't chosen an easy life, but she's chosen a happy one. That'swhat her mother and I wanted for her." Looking around the room headded, "I'm not sure her mother could have imagined this in herwildest dreams, but I think it would have her approval. It looks likeJacob has already accepted Cathy as a daughter. It seems only fairthat he ante up that son I never had. You know it took me some timeto come to this, but please understand that it had very little to dowith accepting you. It was anger and pride holding me back, andconcern that my child had chosen a double life...that the two of youhad hidden it from me…even after I knew you. I couldn't ask herto find a man Above who would have more of my respect…who Iwould trust more with her heart."

 

Vincent looked at Charles in disbelief. Son? Couldhe mean what it seemed? "I don't know what to say. Yourwords…"

 

"Well, decide on something…and say it toCathy if you intend to." Charles reached in his pocket, pulled out asmall box and placed it in Vincent's hand. "I know what you can giveher. I also know what you can't give her, so I brought you something.These are yours, to do with as you see fit. They come with myblessings.

 

Vincent opened the box and found three rings.

 

"Those belonged to my wife and me. I kept them forCathy &endash; for her to have something of her parents when I wasgone."

 

"I can't accept such a gift. These should be withyou..." Vincent protested, offering the box back to him, but Charlesinterrupted.

 

"Of course you can," he insisted, taking Vincent'shand and folding the clawed fingers around the box. "These rings holdmemories of a strong love and a happy marriage. I want that for mylittle girl…and I want that for you. I don't need these rings toremember my wife. Those memories will always be with me. Make theserings a part of something alive and vibrant again."

 

"I have no words…" Vincent answeredquietly.

 

"Better to find them for Cathy, anyway," Charlessmiled, and Vincent folded him into a filial embrace.

 

If Catherine and her father could accept such aunion &endash; expect such a union, why couldn't he? And what herfather said was true. When had she ever been offered a realchoice?

 

"Thank you…for the gift of youracceptance…and your memories," Vincent said, moving from thewarm hug Charles had returned.

 

Charles simply smiled and pointed out thatCatherine seemed to have found a free moment.

 

Stopping at the buffet table, Charles watched asVincent found Catherine and asked to steal her away for a fewminutes. The small tunnel orchestra was taking a break, the childrenwere all gathered around Sebastian, and the adults who had beendancing were migrating toward the buffet table. It was a perfect timefor them to find a quiet corner away from the crowd.

 

Vincent seated Catherine on a bench and kneltbeside her, resting one arm on the small table beside it, his back tothe crowd.

 

"I had hoped we could have a few minutes toourselves. It looks like Dad has forgiven us," she smiled.

 

"He brought me a gift. I believe he expects me togive it to you, but that requires your consent."

 

"What is it? What do I need to consentto?"

 

Vincent held the small velvet box closed in hislarge hand. "Catherine I don't want to confine you to my life. Idon't want to limit your life any more than I already have. I can'tgive you material things…not the ring that most men could giveyou…not even the freedom to speak of us to your acquaintances. Ican only offer you myself…and my love. If that is truly enoughfor you, I would be honored if you would consent to be mywife."

 

"It's more than enough, Vincent…and the honorwould be mine." Catherine placed her hand on Vincent's cheek, joypouring through their bond, and gently placed a kiss on his lips.

 

And he responded…reveling in the touch of herlips on his…feeling that he might expire on the spot from morehappiness than anyone had a right to feel.

 

"Mmmm…. That was nice. Can we explore thatfurther when we're alone?" Catherine asked mischievously.

 

His answer was one of his small smiles.

 

Vincent was still kneeling next to Catherine'schair between her and the party goers, and even kneeling, he was tallenough that she was nearly hidden behind him. So far their exchangehadn't attracted much attention from the crowd, but one Winterfestguest was watching carefully. Vincent opened his hand, then openedthe box.

 

"My parents' rings? He gave you their rings?"Catherine whispered in surprise.

 

"A gift I will always cherish," Vincent answeredas he took one ring from the box, and slipped it on the ring fingerof the hand she automatically held out to accept it. He took her handin his. "Your father told me of the love and happiness these ringsrepresent. He said he wanted that for me…as well as for you. Hespoke of me as a son. I find it quite humbling…and a greathonor. I'll do my best to never disappoint either of you." He restedhis forehead against hers and kissed her hand near thering.

 

"Then we have his blessings?"

 

"It seems so," Vincent smiled. "He questioned myintentions. I was beginning to expect a shotgun. I thought it wise toask you now…before he had time to change his mind."

 

Catherine laughed and hugged him enthusiastically.

 

Looking down at her hand again, she repeatedsoftly, "He gave you their rings." She looked back up at Vincent. "Inmy world I can wear the rings on the chain with my crystal. No onewill question that. Here I'll wear them as they'reintended…proudly…so everyone can see that I'myours."

 

Seeing her already making plans for keeping thesymbols of their union close to her, Vincent smiled, his heart filledwith love for this small woman who had brought such wonderful changesto his life.

 

He saw Catherine looking over his shoulder,searching the room, and he turned to follow her gaze. They found herfather watching as she smiled jubilantly and held her hand up wherethe diamond could twinkle at him in the bright candlelight.

 

Charles returned the smile, lifting his glasstoward them and bowing slightly in their direction. He then returnedto the punch bowl and picked up three drinks before walking a shortdistance to join Father and Peter. Handing Father one of the drinksand Peter another, he nodded toward Vincent, who was now seated onthe bench next to Catherine. The young couple looked veryhappy.

"Well, my friends, I think we may have anannouncement to make," he smiled.

 

The other two men looked at Vincent and Catherineand understood immediately.

 

There they stood &endash; three aging Cupids,inordinately proud of themselves. The three of them raised theirglasses and clicked them together in a toast to their children'sfuture.

 

~The End~