Turning Corners
Part Two
by Pat KingIt had been an extremely hectic week for Catherine, but that was nothing new. Every division in the DA's office was understaffed and overworked. The Madison case was going to trial on Monday so the entire team was working overtime to get the loose ends tied up. It was almost ten when she wrapped up on Friday night, but now she had the entire weekend free.
Bright and early Saturday morning, Catherine packed a totebag with a few items and left her apartment. Her first stop was the deli around the corner where she bought warm bagels and muffins and tubs of cream cheese in various flavors. Loaded down, she strolled to the park and carefully made her way to the drainage tunnel. Before she could set down her bundles and activate the hidden switch, the tunnel door slid back to show the imposing figure of her love.
"Catherine." He swung open the grilled gate. "It is early."
"Good morning to you, too," she replied as she handed him the bag of food. "I come bearing gifts."
Vincent's nose crinkled at the delicious smell wafting up from the sack. "Bagels and muffins, you spoil us, Catherine."
"And cream cheese. Besides, I've invited myself Below for the weekend and I'm using this as a bribe."
"You need no bribe ... you should know by now that you are always welcome. The children will be delighted to see you, and even Father was asking after you."
Catherine threw Vincent an enticing look. "Only Father and the children?"
Before he could protest, he felt her teasing mixed with love through the bond. Catherine was in a playful mood. "Not just Father and the children, Catherine. Mary has asked about you, and I believe that Mouse has something to show you."
Not the response that she had expected, she looked at him in surprise. Though he was deliberately avoiding her eyes, she could see the twinkle of humor in his and began to laugh.
"Well, I'll have to try to make time for everyone. While I'm planning my schedule, what's on your agenda for the day?" The last was said with a decidedly seductive tone that sent shivers of delight through him.
"I'm afraid that I will be busy most of the day in the outer reaches of the tunnels." He could feel her disappointment. "I'm sorry that it isn't something I can put off. However, I am free all day tomorrow."
Ashamed that her disappointment had caused him distress, she halted his movement with a hand to his arm. Turning him to look at her, she gazed at him with love. "Vincent, it's okay. I understand that you have duties Below just as I do Above. I can't expect you to drop everything to entertain me. Though I am disappointed that we won't have the entire weekend, I'll be fine." She moved closer, and all teasing was gone from her tone, "Even if we had all weekend, it still wouldn't be enough." His blue eyes widened as she gave him a saucy smile and turned to continue the journey Below. Let him think on that for a while.
And think on it he did. They had arrived at the dining chamber before he even realized they were in the inhabited portion of the tunnels. They joined Father, Mary and Cullen at a corner table and poured themselves some tea while William served the baked goods. Father looked at Catherine nonplused as everyone but Vincent munched on the goodies. His son was staring vacantly at his mug of tea, oblivious to the commotion around him.
Cullen took a final swig from his cup, grabbed a second bagel and tapped his large friend on the shoulder. "You about ready to head out?"
Vincent was startled, his vacant eyes refocusing on the people around him. "Certainly."
Catherine squeezed his hand. "I'll see you this evening ... be careful." The I love you she gave him was discernible only through the bond.
Catherine had a busy day. After breakfast she visited with Mouse, and he did, indeed, have a new invention to display. The imagination and abilities of the shy young man never ceased to amaze her. She spent some time with Rebecca in the candle chamber, then visited with Lena and little Cathy.
After reading the children a story, Catherine sat in a large wooden rocker in the nursery and fed the newest member of the underground family. Someone had wrapped a baby in an old towel and left her in a dumpster near the bus station where Vincent had found her on one of his evening prowls. No report of a missing baby had been made Above so little Ellie, as the babe had been named, had been welcomed into the community.
Catherine crooned her mother's lullaby as she gently rocked the infant. Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered singing the melody to the first Ellie shortly before she died. Eric had been genuinely touched that they had decided to name the little girl after his sister and could be found haunting the nursery chamber to check on 'his' baby.
The rest of the afternoon was spent visiting with Father. They sorted through some of his books as they chatted amiably. Now that their relationship had taken a turn for the better, Catherine was beginning to feel quite at ease with the older man. He asked her questions about her childhood and her family and, in turn, told her stories of Vincent as a child.
"I wished I'd known him when he was younger," Catherine commented with a sigh.
Jacob looked at her thoughtfully. "I wish you had too. If you had been in his life earlier perhaps things would have been different."
"You're thinking of Lisa." His greying head nodded. "Those are old wounds that I'm trying to heal." She laughed under her breath, and he gave her a puzzled look. "The evening that I had to wait for Vincent -- the one when you and I had our talk -- I remember thinking that night that I couldn't ease your lifetime of fears overnight anymore than I could Vincent's. Then, in one evening, I did. I just wish it was as easy with your son. There's something else there, something that terrifies him, that I can't reach."
"If anyone can get through to him, it will be you, Catherine." He took the book that she had been holding and placed it in a stack to go to the library.
There was an extended pause. "May I ask you a question, Father? A rather personal question ... as the tunnel doctor?" Catherine's eyes were glued to the floor.
"Of course you may. Are you having a problem?" He looked concerned.
"Oh, it's not me -- it's about Vincent." Her face flushed a bright red as he waited for her question. "I was wondering ... I mean I need to know ... what I mean is ..." She stopped speaking to Father and began muttering to herself. "Damn, why is this so hard! I listen to Dr. Ruth, I read the books. Shoot, just watching cable nowadays is an education. I'm a modern, educated woman. I should be able to do this."
He interrupted her diatribe. "Catherine, what are you trying to ask?" he said calmly.
She stopped her babbling, took a deep breath and tried again. "I was just wondering if there is any reason, physically that is, that precludes us, Vincent and me that is, from having sex." The blush grew deeper, but she looked visibly relieved.
If Father was shocked by her inquiry, he gave no outward indication. He looked at her thoughtfully, deciding how -- or if -- to answer her question.
"Why are you asking me, Catherine? Why haven't you asked Vincent?"
Her look begged his understanding. "I'm asking you because you're probably the only person other than Vincent who can answer the question. I love him, Father, and I believe that he loves me. There is something holding him back. I thought that maybe it's something physical ... that he can't make love. I didn't want to ask him because if that's the reason, I didn't want to embarrass him. And if there was a physiological reason, then I would back off."
"You'd leave?" Father asked quietly.
"No, God no! You don't understand -- I could never leave him. Being without Vincent would be like giving up air. I'd die -- maybe not as quickly, but just as surely. No, what I meant was I wouldn't try to push our relationship; we'd just go on as we have been."
She could see relief in Father's countenance and his understanding -- she would stay with Vincent, despite the limitations. Her main concern was for his son, not to cause him pain. What an extraordinary woman this was.
"I've been his doctor from the day he was born, and I can assure you that, physiologically, Vincent is the same as any fully human male. Larger than most, perhaps, but anatomically the same." He hid a grin at the sparkle in Catherine's eyes at his last statement.
She thought about his answer with a naughty but resolute expression on her face. Then, she gave a wicked smirk. "Let the games begin!"
He did grin at that. He knew how stubborn his son could be -- almost as stubborn as himself -- but as he looked at this determined young woman he realized that his son didn't stand a chance in hell. Perhaps he could put in a word here or there to help things along, he'd done enough in the past to hinder things.
"How to do you plan to accomplish this conquest?" He peered at her over the edge of his glasses.
"I'm not really sure ... but I think the first order of business is to stop hiding my feelings from him." There was a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "He should just about be finished for the day, right?" Father nodded tremulously. "He's not in a dangerous environment?"
"No, in fact there was a message on the pipes that they are on their way back. He will probably go to the bathing chamber before joining us." Father was not comforted by the smile on Catherine's face. "Catherine?"
She looked at him innocently -- too innocently -- and excused herself, saying that she needed to freshen up before supper. As she left the study she ran into Kipper and had a short conversation with him. She then made her way quickly to the guest chamber. The light from the single candle on the bedside table was enough to guide her to the large chair in the corner. Making herself comfortable, she closed her eyes, dropped her guard and let her mind wander.
She let her love for Vincent envelope her, warming her against the underground chill. She imagined running her fingers through his long, golden hair ... stroking down his corded neck ... trailing across his wide shoulders ... kneading the strong muscles of his arms ...caressing the broad expanse of his chest ... her arms encircling him to massage the rippling muscles of his back. Her breathing grew shallow and the temperature in the chamber seemed to rise several degrees. An unmistakable ripple in the bond indicated that Vincent had definitely experienced her desires.
She gracefully backed off ... a little now, a little later ... this was definitely going to be an interesting weekend. She ran a brush through her hair and went to escort Father to supper. Vincent joined them in the passageway to the dining chamber. His suspicious look was returned by an innocent, yet ardent, greeting.
The meal was simple but delicious; the company was congenial; and all seemed to progress uneventfully until dessert. Everyone was pleasantly surprised when the children on serving duty began distributing ice cream cones, a rare but welcomed treat. Father arched an eyebrow at Catherine -- there had been no ice cream in the tunnels at lunch time. He shook his head sagely at her guileless expression.
As they delighted in the frozen confection, he and Vincent resumed their discussion regarding the condition of the tunnels which had been inspected during the day. When his son's conversation began to falter, Father glanced at Catherine and barely managed to suppress a chuckle. It didn't take a seer to deduce the thoughts and emotions running through her mind as she sensuously ate her dessert. Her actions were causing long-forgotten reactions in him, and he had no bond to fuel his response. He could imagine the affect on the target audience of her performance.
Her eyes were half-closed as her tongue languidly licked the melting ice cream. Vincent, in his disconcerted state, had turned his attention to her, and Father could see the enthralled look on his son's face as the tip of her tongue swirled around the peaked mound of vanilla. A low rumble issued forth and his blue eyes widened as she took the entire frozen column in her mouth, her lips pressing gently against it as she extracted the cone, sucking lightly. When she repeated the up-and-down motion, there was a sudden crack and ice cream splattered across the table as Vincent's cone was crushed in his massive hand.
The cold, sticky, sensation oozing between his fingers startled him back to awareness and helped cool the heat that had been burning in his veins. He glanced around at the surprised faces of the few people left in the chamber. After he had wiped his hand and clothing to remove the gooey mess, he noticed that Catherine had finished her dessert and was nonchalantly talking with Mary.
Father challenged Vincent to a game of chess, and Catherine encouraged him to accept, saying that she was going to help Mary put the little ones to bed. Her calm emotional state and serene expression were at odds with the voracious sensations that she had been feeling moments earlier. Vincent, disconcerted by the wildly fluctuating emotions he was receiving from his truelove, acquiesced but doubted that he would be much of an opponent.
The two men faced each other over the chessboard. As he moved his piece, Father blithely commented on how nice it was to have Catherine visit with them. He mentioned what a help she had been all day to everyone. As his son made a move, Father casually remarked that he realized how wrong he had been about her, and about her relationship with Vincent. Father studied the board intently before continuing -- both the play and his discourse.
"You know, I've come to realize what a treasure she is, so unlike anyone I've known before from Above. And so devoted to you."
Vincent looked at his father patiently. "I've been trying to tell you that for years, Father. She is my life." He moved his man.
Father studied the board, a crease lining his forehead. "Then what are you planning to do about it?" Carefully he countered Vincent's attack. "I believe it's your move, son." The double entendre was plain in his statement. Vincent looked at him in shock, the game forgotten.
Meanwhile, Catherine sat once again in the rocking chair feeding little Ellie. The baby smacked hungrily on the bottle, her little fingers curling against the plastic. Catherine was hypnotized by the tiny lips pulling on the nipple. As she looked longingly at the infant, she could imagine the feel of Ellie's little mouth sucking purposefully at her breast, the sensation causing a tightening in her womb. In her fantasy the lips changed from the tiny ones of the babe in her arms to the large, loving ones of her heart's desire. This image sent a searing heat through her, tremors shuddered through her body.
In the study, Vincent's hands clutched the arms of his chair as Catherine's emotions swept over him. Trickles of sawdust filtered to the floor as his claws inadvertently gouged into the wood. The overwhelming erotic sensations that he had been dealing with all evening were testing the limits of his control. He was exhausted from trying to restrain his body's reaction to the arousing thoughts and stimulating actions to which he had been subjected. Having Catherine near was tempting enough, but tonight had been torture.
He breathed deeply, willing calm into his aroused body. When he had maintained a modicum of control, he excused himself from the game, mumbling something about the Mirror Pool. As he left the study, Father shook his head and chuckled. 'You're a wicked woman, Catherine Chandler. I hope we all survive this weekend.'
Little Ellie was finally asleep. Catherine stood by the crib looking down at the angelic face. She tried to suppress the longing that engulfed her but wasn't totally successful. Poor Vincent, he must be climbing the walls by now from the intentional, and unintentional, emotions that have been bombarding him. She breathed deeply, centered herself, and went to find the love of her life.
When she peeked into the study she was surprised to find Father alone. He looked up from his book and wagged a finger at her to indicated what a naughty girl she had been. "Mirror Pool," he said before going back to his reading.
She found Vincent beside the underground lake, prowling back and forth like a caged lion -- an unhappy, caged lion. His mind was in such turmoil that he was unaware of her presence. She stood in the entrance admiring the fluid grace of his large body. Before she realized what was happening, waves of desire washed over her -- her blood on fire, her skin tingling.
His pacing stopped. He turned and looked at her with fire in his eyes. She could feel the desire emanating from him, and her knees went weak. As she leaned against the stone wall she realized it was now or never. Curbing the urge to rush madly to him, she smiled sweetly and slowly approached. Analyzing the feelings that were assaulting her through their connection she found love, lust, desire, passion -- all normal male responses to the provocation he had faced. Nowhere did she sense a feeling of malevolence or danger.
He backed away from her, his hands balled into fists at his side.
"Stay back, Catherine. Please, come no closer."
She paused. "Why, Vincent? Tell me what you're feeling, what you want."
"You don't want to know what I'm feeling, Catherine. It shames me ... and what I want would frighten you. Please, leave while I can still restrain myself."
"I do want to know ... but perhaps it will be easier if I go first."
Without realizing it, he had backed himself, literally, into a corner, and she positioned herself in his only avenue of escape. If he didn't want to hear this, he was going to have to go through her to leave.
"In case you're having trouble interpreting my feelings, let me clarify them. I love you, Vincent ... all of you ... just as you are. I desire you. I lust after that sexy body of yours. I want to touch you all over, and have you touch me. I want to feel you ... to taste you ... to experience you in every way possible. I want to be surrounded by your body as well as your love. I want to become one with you. I want to make love with you."
She felt his shock, the feeling of incredulousness that overcame him at her words. She moved closer.
"Tell me you don't feel the same way. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't want me, and I won't push you. But you can't truthfully say that because I can feel what you're feeling through the bond. This is right, Vincent. This is what's meant to be."
He looked into her face and knew that he could not lie to her. He could not deny his desires, his aching need for her. He hung his head in defeat. She said she wanted him, but he knew in his heart that she would be repulsed by the reality of him, of his body.
Her arms slid around his waist to tenderly hug him. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath her cheek. Her hands gently rubbed his back, trying to soothe his anxiety.
He sighed.
She whimpered as he pushed her away, but he spoke quickly to calm her fears. "I do love you, Catherine, with all that I am. You say that you want me, but you can't know." The sadness in his tone broke her heart.
His cloak dropped from his shoulders and his fingers began to unfasten his vest. "I've tried to hide my differences from you. Some are unconcealable, " he gestured to his face and hands, "but now you must see all of me. To quell these desires, you must know that I am not like other men."
Closing the bond so as not to feel her revulsion, he slowly removed his clothing. He stepped out of his jeans and stood before her, naked -- shamefully hanging his head, hiding behind a golden veil. At her gasp his eyes closed in pain.
Catherine's hand went to her heart as she beheld him in all his splendor. She had imagined him -- dreamt of him -- like this, but nothing in her wildest imagination could have prepared her for the true magnificence of the man standing before her. He had a body to die for ... the only real difference being that it was covered in a coating of golden hair -- longer in some places than others -- but not unexpected. Even in his embarrassed state his arousal was evident. Father wasn't lying ... he was larger than most men, though not abnormally so. Her womanhood clutched in anticipation.
When Catherine finally found her voice, she told him, "You're correct, Vincent, you're not like other men. You are gorgeous!"
His head shot up, and he loosened his control on the bond to discover the truth of her feelings. She drew closer, her hands aching to run their fingers through the whirls of golden hair on his chest.
"Other men would kill for a body like yours." Their eyes locked -- green, loving eyes full of acceptance drowning in sapphire pools of gratitude. Her tone became teasing to lighten the mood, "And at least one woman ... me."
There was no embarrassment, no hesitation, as her fingers slipped under the edge of her sweatshirt and pulled it and the camisole beneath off in one motion. Shoes, socks, slacks and panties seemed to melt away. The chilly air of the chamber against her bare skin helped cool her boiling blood. She embraced him again, her firm nipples rubbing sensuously in the downy softness of his torso, and they both shuddered at the erotic impact.
Vincent's powerful arms encircled her, holding her firmly to his trembling form, and his mouth slowly lowered to capture her lush, full lips. Lightly at first ... building in urgency ... he kissed her. Her lips parted, and his instinctively followed suit. Her tongue flicked out to outline his firm lower lip, to gently caress the upper one, to delve into the unique cleft setting off sparks throughout his body, and to explore his smooth, sharp teeth. His own tongue snaked out to join the dance, drinking in her sweetness.
Catherine was lightheaded at the sensations cascading through her; her legs grew shaky. They finally ended the kiss, the need for air competing with their need for each other. Catherine's head fell back, her body supported by the stalwart circle of his arms. His mouth moved down to savor the slender column of her neck.
As he nibbled the tender skin, Catherine arched against him, his desire throbbing steel between them, and she felt her own response in the wetness between her thighs. Her hands slid down his back to cup his firm buttocks, squeezing lightly as she pulled him firmly against her.
A low growl echoed through the chamber as Vincent moved away. Before Catherine could object to the separation , he had spread his cloak in the small niche of the cave and pulled her close to lay upon the garment. He stared down at her, passion and apprehension in his flashing eyes. He knew that Catherine had no misgivings -- her certainty blanketed him, giving him courage.
"My mind loves you, my heart loves you ... my body wants to love you too. Show me how to love you, Catherine."
Catherine knew in her heart that Vincent needed no instruction, just confidence. He was the most giving and sensuous person she had ever met. It thrilled her that she was the first to know Vincent in this way ... and the only, if she had anything to say about it. She told him to trust his instincts, trust the bond, and trust their love.
Their kiss stoked the flames of their passion. The sweetness of her mouth drew him as a bee is drawn to a flower. Her hands were never still, roaming across every inch of him that was within her reach. She felt his hesitance and his need, and guided his hand to her aching breast. She arched against him as he gently massaged it, his thumb stroking lightly across the taut nipple. As he laved the rosy peak with his raspy tongue, the sensation triggered a climax in Catherine that racked her body.
He continued his ministrations as he held her tightly to him, experiencing her orgasm through the bond. When the tremors finally subsided, he looked at her with awe. Never had he felt anything like that in his life. She pulled him atop her, spreading her legs to give him room. Ever careful of hurting her, he balanced his weight on his arms and legs.
He gasped as her hands captured and began to stroke his throbbing erection. The stimulation was taking him over the edge. There was a distinct rumbling in his chest.
Catherine's voice focused the moment, "I want you, Vincent. I need you ... now."
Her entreaty urged him on. As she positioned him against her, he was momentarily afraid -- he was so large compared to her. She shifted her hips, encouraging him forward. He slowly entered her, monitoring the bond for any evidence of pain. Caution was thrown to the wind, however, when her heels on his thighs and hands on his buttocks drove him forward, filling her in one thrust.
He lay still, savoring the wet warmth of his beloved; but then his body, his need, would not be denied. The pace, as it must be the first time, was frantic and quick. A few deep thrusts and the heavens exploded. Catherine, fed by Vincent's release, experienced another of her own. The sensations met in the bond and multiplied, and then ... they were one. One in body ... one in soul. The bond opened to both of them as it had never done before.
They lay wrapped in each other's arms, returning from that faraway place where love had taken them. Though he was careful to keep his full weight off of her, Catherine reveled in the feel of their bodies pressed together -- his heaviness resting against her. She could feel his elation through the bond, amazed at its clarity.
Though he sensed no harm, he still had to ask, "Catherine, are you all right?"
The dreamy look on her face was answer enough, but she knew that he had to hear the words. "If you mean did you hurt me, the answer is no ... you didn't hurt me ." The 'I told you so' of her look wasn't voiced. "However, 'all right' is a subjective phrase. Vincent, I'm more than all right, I'm ... I'm ... I guess in heaven would start to cover what I am." She sighed and stroked his chest. "You, my love, are incredible. I can tell you honestly that I've never truly made love until now. However, I can see one really serious problem."
He cocked his head, worried at what she would say. She smiled seductively and let her fingers play with the golden curls of hair. "I don't want to let you go. Maybe we could hole up somewhere private and have someone bring us food. I think six or seven months in bed with you might make up for the years we've wasted."
Vincent's relief was palpable. His eyes shone with tears as he finally accepted the truth -- she did love him, really loved him; he loved her and that love brought her no harm; and the impossible dream was impossible no longer. His clawed fingers lightly brushed the planes of her face, marveling in it's softness.
"Catherine, from the moment I found you in the park you have been my life, but I never imagined that you would love me too. And never would I have dared to dream of loving you like this. Though I know that you have a life Above, I can't conceive of letting you out of my sight." Embolden by all that had happened, he dared ask the one question that he had never in his life envisioned asking anyone, much less someone as beautiful as Catherine. "Catherine, I have nothing to offer but my love, and I know there are many issues we will need to address, but would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she gazed at her soulmate -- realizing that he truly was the mate of her soul. "Vincent, by giving me your love, you give me everything. I would love to be your wife ... and the honor would be mine."