You Can’t Run Away From Love


 
From an idea by Elizabeth Sherring - UK

Elizabeth thought it would be a good idea to write something about Catherine competing in the NY Marathon to raise money for a charity and that Vincent with his aptitude for running would make a great trainer for her. I thought that this idea had great prospects and the following shows how that story developed.

 

You Can't Run Away From Love


Catherine was depressed.
Three long years of celibacy, and still no sign of any intimate developments between Vincent and herself.
Edie had hit the nail on the head when she had outspokenly said the other day, “Hey Girlfriend, snapping at me ain’t gonna make me download any faster you know; I ain’t part of this computer as much as you like to think I am. I got feelings too, you know.”
Catherine had apologized, but her frayed temper was getting to be more than a habit with her colleagues—Joe had already mentioned it. “You need a holiday, Radcliffe; you’ve seen too much of this place.” But it wasn’t a holiday she needed.
She needed a man. She needed Vincent.
“You need to take up some form of exercise honey,” Edie had told her later that same day. “Something to take away all that excess energy. Either that or get yourself a man.”
Edie knew there was someone, only Catherine had never spoke about him, still Catherine had to ask on this occasion, just what Edie meant.
“I shudder to ask, but why would I need a man?” Catherine grinned.
Edie had looked at her long and hard. “Girlfriend, if that ain’t frustration talking I’d like to know what is. You either make it with the guy or you shelve some of that energy someplace else so that when you do go to bed all you want to do is sleep.”
“And you’d know, of course.” Catherine’s eyes had lit up with humor.
“You are speaking to the world’s most knowledgeable person when it comes to frustration, girlfriend. I know how frustration speaks, and boy does frustration get mad as hell when it speaks. Just like you’ve been doing. Say, if you can’t run towards loving, why don’t you expend yourself in running for charity?”
“Running for charity?” Catherine asked.
“Uh huh, The New York Marathon is coming up, and I know you like running—what say you and me get in some serious training, and make some money for a charity from running the marathon, I’m sure with all your contacts you’d get plenty of sponsors.” Edie had half-heartedly meant it as a joke, but Catherine for the first time in many weeks saw the idea as a godsend. “Okay, we’ll do it,” she told a startled Edie. “Just let me get some new trainers and we’ll get started tomorrow, okay?”
Edie nodded. The radical change in Catherine was startling; already that sullenest had left her friend’s eyes. Boy, having something to look forward to had certainly changed her friend’s outlook on life. Still Edie frowned; using up one’s energy on exercise was in no way a cure for the real problem, and Cathy might be able to run the marathon, but she couldn’t run away from love. No whatever the problem in Cathy’s secret relationship, a marathon was not the answer, only confrontation would do that and Edie made up her mind to talk to Catherine about that in the weeks ahead.

*** *** ***


“Well you certainly deserve every praise my dear...” Father poured Catherine a cup of tea. “Running the New York Marathon will take a great deal of energy—do you think you have the stamina?”
“Not yet, Father, but with your advice I think I can do it.” Catherine took the cup from him, and sipped the tea thirstily.
“Not just advice, but you’ll need to train too. And when will you get the time? It’ll be dark when you leave work.”
“I know; with all the extra hours I am having to put in, it will be difficult. I wondered if Vincent would help me. On weekends I’ll train with Edie, but I could do with running every night, really.”
“And you think trying to keep level with Vincent would be good for you... Good grief, Catherine, you are more deserving than I thought—Vincent is the fastest runner I’ve ever known.”
Catherine laughed. “But he wouldn’t be racing me, just pacing me.”
“And keeping you safe.”
Catherine grinned. “And keeping me safe. The Park is a dangerous place to run at night.”
“You could use the tunnels. We could advance warn everyone to stay out of the area while you run, so to avoid knocking anyone over. What about that my dear?”
Catherine nodded. “Whatever you think best, though the odd night above won’t hurt, if Vincent is willing.”
At that moment Vincent entered and caught the tail end of their conversation, his eyebrows rose, though he said nothing.
Father answered his silent question. “Catherine is training to run the New York Marathon for charity, Vincent, and she needs to train.”
Catherine picked up from here. “Yes, I was hoping you might pace me up in the park at night, but Father suggested using the tunnels.”
Vincent took up his seat thoughtfully; he enjoyed running, and was delighted to help. “That is very commendable of you, Catherine. The New York Marathon is quite a feat. I’d be glad to help. When would you like to start?”
“Well, there’s no time like the present as they say, but I thought the after the weekend. Edie and I are going to run together and I have promised that I would train with her in the park every Saturday and Sunday, so then Monday, if that's all right with you?”
Vincent nodded. “Monday it is. If it’s wet and slippery or windy we’ll run Below; otherwise we’ll go Above.”
Catherine nodded, excitement flaring through her veins already. Spending time with Vincent like this was exciting, and she looked forward to it immensely, unaware that Vincent was in an equal frame of mind.

*** *** ***


A contentious runner, Catherine soon picked up the pace with Edie that weekend, stopping only to mop her brow or to collapse in a fit of giggles each time her friend asked her to slow down.
“I thought you said you could run?” Catherine asked Edie on more than one occasion.
“I can—I’m just so obviously carrying a few more pounds than you,” Edie laughed along, happy more than anything to see the sadness flee from her friend’s face. “I could do with a break, though. Fancy taking a breather?”
Her leg bent out in front of her as she massaged the backs of her calves, Catherine grimaced at her friend. “Go on admit it, you can’t run for toffees.”
Edie shrugged. “There’s no hiding anything from you, is there?”
“Then why did you suggest it?” Catherine left her massaging alone, and came to rest on the park bench alongside her friend.
“I thought it would be good for you. Get you out of yourself. Like I told you before Cathy, if you haven’t got a man to absorb all that countless energy, then frustration will make you snappy. And boy, are you often snappy. You’d make a crocodile envious.”
“That bad, huh?” Catherine was thoughtful.
Edie nodded. “Want to talk about it?”
“It?”
“Well, him then. Why has he left you dangling so long?”
“It’s complicated, Edie.” Catherine was grateful for her friend’s concern, but only those that knew the full story could ever begin to understand it.
Edie sighed. “Something has got to give, girlfriend. I see you as the passionate type, not the compassionate type. That is, you can only go so long giving without receiving before it’ll crack you up. What’s with this guy anyway? Why won’t he love you?”
“He does, Edie, in his own way. In many respects, the way he loves me is everything.” Catherine replied misty eyed. “Sometimes everything needs more, baby.”
Catherine grinned at her friend. “Don’t worry about me, Edie. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, just so long as you keep telling yourself that, even in those quiet moments when your heart is breaking.” A pitying glance fell across Edie's features.
Catherine said nothing, instead making it plain that she’d had enough rest and was ready for the off again. Sometimes Edie got just too close to the bone for her liking.

*** *** ***


If her jaunts with Edie were worrying, then her jaunts with Vincent were all the more so. Being with the one she loved and having him pace her as they fled through the park several evenings later, was almost more than she could bear.
Running breathlessly to a standstill, and holding her sides while he merely looked out of breath alongside her, Catherine marveled at his physique.
She was also left in awe for the amount of times he had crossed the city at breakneck speed just to rescue her.
It was more than she could do not to allow her mind to picture those long legs and muscles in action. That mighty heart pounding on her behalf. Catherine grew weak at just the mere thought of it.
Still, the weeks spent training with Vincent and Edie did have the required effect; all that exercise did sap her energy, so that oftentimes she fell asleep almost as she closed her apartment door, or even before she had reached her bed!
That in itself gave her mind the respite it needed. Unable to think of anything other than her caseload day after day, Catherine pushed all other thoughts to the back of her mind. Her whole intent now was to run the marathon, and do a good day’s work. Other than that, she was simply too tired to think about anything else.
Yet when it came, everything fell flat in her face.
The day of the marathon loomed and was gone, like a breath of wind. She had run it and she had finished it, and for mere moments, she had felt elated that she had achieved something worthy of the sponsorship money she had been pledged for a worthy cause, but when it was over what was there left? Nothing. Nothing but the full force of everything she had kept at bay for the past six weeks, coming crashing down on her once again.
Again Edie despaired, knowing that the six-week respite had simply done its trick at the time for her friend. But unless her friend trained for another year up to the next marathon, (and she couldn’t quite imagine this happening), then it was time to meet the other problem head on.
But how, that was the problem. If Catherine was content to plod along in the relationship without moving forward, surely that was her lookout?
Edie knew though that she couldn’t allow this to happen. A good friend was a doing friend, and anything she could do right now she would do, even if it meant stooping to deception. To see her friend happy would be worth it.

*** *** ***


It was about ten days after the marathon, when Edie found Catherine scribbling a note as Edie arrived to meet up with her friend for lunch.
“Had enough, have we?” Edie remarked when Catherine obviously hadn’t noticed her standing there waiting.
“Hi Edie. What?” She looked up briefly then down at the note again.
Edie nodded, gesturing towards the note. “That your resignation, girlfriend?”
Folding the note, and straightening, Catherine laughed. “No.”
Edie had decided a few days ago that she wasn’t going to learn anything if she wasn’t pushy enough. She started now. “Who then, your dry cleaner?”
Again Catherine laughed. “No, it’s for a friend.”
BINGO!
Edie noticed the look, the sparkle that appeared in Catherine’s eyes when she spoke of this friend. It was him, it had to be. He was the only one that could inspire such a look in her friend.
Edie fell silent. She wondered how Catherine would get the note to Vincent. Edie had no idea where he lived, and as Catherine had not slipped the note into an envelope, Edie grew even more curious.
“I’ll get my purse,” Catherine told her, reaching beneath her desk. “Right then... You coming, I’m starving.”

*** *** ***


Outside, the bright sunshine hit the two women simultaneously, and Edie reached into her bag for her sunglasses. She made more of a show of searching for them while round about Catherine seemed to be searching for something else. Edie had seen this before, and she felt pretty sure she knew who Catherine was searching for.
Suddenly a blast of sound from around the corner caused Catherine’s face to light up. “Just wait here a moment Edie, I’ll be right back.”
“No chance,” Edie muttered under her breath, and followed her friend around the corner, standing a reasonable distance away. From there she saw Catherine take the note from one pocket, and ten dollars from her purse, wrap the note inside the money and after speaking to the Negro with the saxophone for a moment, drop the two together into his money-filled cap at his feet. That done, Catherine returned to her friend hardly seeming to notice that Edie had moved away from the spot where she had left her.
Edie took all this in without saying a word.
In fact all through dinner she kept the conversation light, and more than once Catherine commented on Edie’s distraction.
“I’m just a little tired,” Edie told her, feeling guilty for lying. In truth, her mind was spinning and everything her friend was saying simply washed over her.
If that note was for this Vincent, then that Negro must know where he was. Or maybe he knew of someone that did. But Edie well knew that the very mysterious Vincent was not about to pop up and say hi, no matter who she bribed to take her to him, but somehow she had to have a word with him. In fact, several words might do the trick.
Whatever, she only had Catherine’s feelings at heart, and felt that she would be able to help, if only she knew where to begin.
“I say, earth to Edie...” Catherine waved a hand before her friend’s face, startling Edie into jumping. “What? Oh sorry, Cathy. I was miles away.”
“So who is he?” Catherine’s face lit up.
“Who?”
“Oh come on, I know the signs, you’re mooning over some guy. Want to talk about it?”
For a moment Edie felt like retorting, ‘You first.’ But she kept silent. She knew from of old that Catherine did not talk about this man. That was half of the problem.
Edie shook her head, “There’s no keeping anything from you, is there?”
Catherine shook her head, grinning. “Is he nice?”
“Oh, you know me—always the bridesmaid never the bride. I’ve not met him yet,” Edie remarked unthinkingly, then at Catherine’s frown, covered up with, “I was dreaming of Mr. Right, and wondering when he might possibly show.” Suddenly she had an idea. “Hey, that sax player you spoke to he wouldn’t be free, would he?”
“You are kidding?”
Edie was. He was way too old for her, but to be able to get to know him, ask him a few questions, a date with him would be worth that.
Edie’s silence worried Catherine. “You’re serious?”
“Must have been love at first sight,” Edie quipped.
Catherine was surprised. “Must have been. And I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s spoken for.”
“Damn, another wasted dream.”
Catherine laughed at her friend, and Edie made more of an effort to enjoy lunch with her friend, there would be time for planning later.
At least now she did have a springboard to alight from.
*** *** ***


It was after six but he was still there. Edie had pondered all afternoon on the problem, and she had had to wait until Catherine had left the office before she even dared to attempt it. Looking out of the office window, Edie sighed with relief when she saw Catherine hail a cab several floors below, and get inside.
With that Edie grabbed her coat and set off after her, praying that the old Negro would still be around.
She’d been in luck. Though she had not known he had stayed longer merely to hand Catherine a reply to her note, he was already packing up his things as Edie approached.
“Hi handsome,” Edie greeted him, but he did not look up. Just concentrated on putting his saxophone away.
“You play real nice,” Edie complemented him, and he stole a look up at her as he lovingly caressed his saxophone before closing the lid.
“You want something?” he asked Edie, well aware that strange women did not usually approach him with chat up lines.
“Yes. Do you know a guy called Vincent?” Edie watched his eyes closely, and she was impressed when he gave nothing away.
“I know many Vincents; which one would you have in mind?” He finished his packing, and made to move off.
“Wait!” Edie caught his arm and as he stared down at her hand, she released him. “Can you take him this note?”
“Him?”
“Vincent.”
“Which Vincent?”
“You know the one.” Edie felt a bit of a fool, the guy probably did know lots of Vincents. It was also probable that he knew only the one. Handing him a dollar bill along with the note, the Negro hesitated, then shrugged, she was hardly handing him a bomb. He took the note, there was no harm in passing it along, and she obviously knew of Vincent anyway.
“See that only he gets it,” Edie told him.
The Negro nodded, and then disappeared into the crowd, leaving Edie standing alone thinking to herself, 'Well you've done it now, girl... So what happens next?'

*** *** ***
Back home, Edie began to worry. What if this Vincent met Catherine first tonight, what if he showed her the note, what would Catherine think of her for meddling? Her thoughts ran riot as she paced her living room frantically biting her nails.
Across the city, Catherine also paced her living room. What would Vincent be thinking? She had made it plain in her note. Plain that she wanted their relationship to move ahead. But his reply handed to her by the saxophone player had suggested nothing. ‘Your balcony, 10 p.m.’
Catherine felt her jangled nerves stretch to the limit. Her note had been well thought out, but nonetheless—was she right to suggest this for them? Just a few words that would make it oh-so plain that she needed this from him, needed him to make a commitment. Catherine needed that security more than anything. But when she thought over her words, she had regrets. The words were simple but the meaning was plain—“Vincent, the wall between our worlds has grown thin.” She knew he would understand. Those weeks together training for the marathon had brought them closer, and at one time Vincent had spoken to her about how proud her father would have been of her, and the conversation had developed into another time, with Catherine reminding him, “Vincent, remember that time after my father died and I asked if we would ever be together, truly together, and you said when we were able to face the fears and move through them?”
And of his reply, “How could I forget?” His voice had been tinged with such sorrow, that Catherine could clearly see how disappointed still he was, that she had returned to her world. His next words confirmed it.
“But your world called you back, Catherine. It is not just our fears that we have to move through. We have also to face the fact that there is a wall between our worlds that is simply impassable.”
Catherine had felt too sad to find an answer at that moment, and it was only as the days went by that she found one that would convince him of her sincerity. She was ready to pass through those fears. She was ready to live in his world, with him.

So she waited, and she paced, and she wondered and she hoped and prayed that everything would turn out well for them. He was her life, and she wanted to spend that life with him, as one.

Below, Vincent held both Catherine’s note and Edie’s out in front of him. He was concerned about them both.
Catherine’s note, having arrived earlier, had worried him enough, but he had almost managed to find the reply he must make to her supplication. Then Edie’s had arrived and everything he had decided to tell Catherine fled his mind.
Catherine was, he thought, a woman of both worlds. She did immense good, the marathon only highlighting what she could do for others. Though he would love to have her in his world, he could not allow this, and besides what could he offer her but himself, and that was not nearly enough even if it were possible.
His well-chosen words then fled his mind as he read Edie’s note, his heart aching as he knew he would have to find answers he wasn’t sure he was capable of giving.

*** *** ***


He was late, and that was unlike him. Catherine leaned over the balcony wall. It was ten after ten. She worried, but she felt he was safe. She would know if he wasn’t, of that she was certain. The Bond had grown stronger between them of late.
She could also tell he was apprehensive about something, and that only served to add to her nervousness. Perhaps he couldn’t meet her after all, perhaps he didn’t want this confrontation between them. Facing issues that had long been denied between them.
Catherine looked out over the park, willing him to come to her, willing him to take her home.

*** *** ***


Vincent felt Catherine’s anxiety. Usually he would have sent her his love, but he thought she might misinterpret it on this occasion. Besides he still wasn’t certain what he was going to tell her.
Deftly he made his way to a Helper’s apartment, hoping that whatever transpired from this would give him his answer.

*** *** ***


When the shrill of the telephone sounded in the otherwise quiet apartment, Edie jumped. It was him! It had to be—no one else rang her at this hour usually.
“Hello.” She snatched up the receiver and held it to her ear, speaking before it was in place.
“Edie?” Came the whispered inquiry.
“Yes?”
“This is Vincent. You wanted to speak to me?”
Oh God, now what? Edie’s mind raced. There was so much to say, yet nothing to say; what business of hers was it anyway? And then a mental image of Catherine’s sorrow passed through her mind, and Edie knew.
“Yes. Thank you for calling. I take it you are the Vincent that knows Catherine?”
There was a moment’s hesitation, a way to get out of this perhaps? Then Edie heard him sigh, “Yes.”
She released a breath, unaware she had held it.
“Vincent, this is probably none of my business, but I think a lot about Catherine. She is a good friend to have.”
“I know.”
Disregarding the comment, Edie raced on, “And I am concerned about her.”
“Concerned? Why?”
Oh, to hell with it. This super-smooth talker, with the velvety rich voice that had sent her limbs to water wasn’t gonna intimidate her, she’d got her chance and she wasn’t gonna live to regret it. “Well it’s like this, Vincent—you just ain’t playing fair with my friend’s affections. She’s miserable man, God dammit—she worships the ground you walk on, and you keep her on a tightrope.”
She heard him suck in a breath. “She told you this?” Somehow he couldn’t imagine it.
“Not in so many words, but it’s easy to see. Vincent, are you blind as well as selfish?”
Vincent felt his temper rising, and he bit back an angry retort plus the desire to slam down the phone. How dare she say that to him. She didn’t even know him, but his curiosity got the better of him. This was one of Catherine’s friends; he should at least listen to what she had to say.
“I am not blind,” he replied, ignoring the taunt to his being selfish.
“Well I think you are. You see Cathy every day, well—almost every day—can’t you see what’s beneath your very nose?” Without waiting for his reply, Edie went on. “She loves you, man. She loves the pants off you.” Edie almost laughed at that, not quite the right choice of words there—way to go girl. If she knew Cathy, Cathy would crack up at that. Nonetheless, Edie went on without apologizing for her choice of words. “I ain’t wanting to watch my girlfriend waste away while waiting for you to do something about that. If you don’t do something about the way she feels about you, you’re gonna set her crazy, Vincent. Move ahead man, do something about it, stop trying to run away from love. Stop messing around with my girlfriend’s emotions. You’re keeping her on a string, man.”
“Are you finished?” Vincent spoke now, unable to hear anymore. Edie detected the underlined anger in his tone, and this time she apologized. “Forgive me. I was out of line. I just care about my friend, and she’s hurting. She’s hurting real bad, and only you can heal that kind of hurt, Vincent.”
For long moments, there was silence. Vincent could find nothing to say. Indeed he didn’t know how to respond. Edie had surely given him more than enough to ponder on!
Eventually Edie broke the silence. “You still there?” She knew he was. The sound of his ragged breathing had enlightened her to that fact.
“Yes.”
“Maybe I should butt out, I don’t know the facts. It’s just that I see things as they are. Everything is black or it’s white; there is nothing in-between. No shades of grey. So either you and Cathy love each other and have a life together or you don’t. In my book it’s as simple as that.”
Again there was silence. Edie grappled with thoughts in her mind, dismissing this, dismissing that. Finally, she thought perhaps he hadn’t the will or the strength to disconnect the call—perhaps she should do that. “Look, Vincent, I’m gonna say goodbye now, but promise me one thing?”
“Yes?” Edie detected that minute words were all he could manage right now and even that affirmation had come out on a hiss. She almost felt sorry for him.
“You either love my friend or you let her go to find someone that will. No one that beautiful deserves to spend their life alone.
Goodbye, Vincent; hopefully we’ll meet some day under better circumstances.”
She took the receiver from her ear to replace it on the cradle, and thought just before she lay it down, that she heard him murmur ‘thank you.’ But maybe that was just wishful thinking.

*** *** ***


Eleven p.m and still no sign of him.
Although the Bond relayed his well-being, Catherine was worried.
Maybe something Below had delayed him, but she knew differently. Her note had stalled him; she was certain of it and sorrow knifed through her that she had forced this upon him.
Growing chilly waiting out on the balcony, Catherine stepped back into the semi-warmth of her apartment. The doors had been open so long that the room was chilled, and Catherine turned the heating up a notch to counteract this. Rubbing her hands over her arms, Catherine crossed to the kitchen to make herself a hot drink, though well-aware that nothing could warm her right now. This coldness that seeped from the inside out could never be warmed without his love.
Wrapped in self-misery, Catherine did not at first hear the gentle tapping. It was only when the door handle from the balcony turned that she raced out into the lounge in time to see Vincent stepping through the doors and into the room. Catherine froze, momentarily stunned that he had entered the apartment with such ease.
“Ah, Catherine. I did knock...” his words trailed away, and Catherine noted that he looked troubled, haggard even.
“Is something wrong, Vincent? She came towards him holding out her hands, clasping his glove-covered hands in hers.
“Wrong? No. Nothing is wrong.”
“You are so late... I was worried.”
“There was a matter I had to attend to.” His eyes did not meet hers, and Catherine was left feeling troubled even further.
“What is it, Vincent? Was it the note?”
“Note?” He was wary. Did she know that Edie had sent one?
“Yes—you did get my note, I take it?” Half of her hoped he hadn’t.
Arh—that note!
Vincent nodded. “Yes.” For some reason he seemed relieved. And her mood lightened. Perhaps things weren’t going to be so bad after all.
“Catherine, it’s late. I shouldn’t have come at such an hour, but I couldn’t just not turn up, and I was out anyway.” Catherine looked at him dearly, he was gabbling—Vincent never did that. She almost laughed at him, but sensed that whatever was troubling him was serious. Silently she waited for him to continue.
“Can I visit you tomorrow, Catherine? Or maybe you would come Below?” His latter request was hesitant, almost fearful; Catherine detected nervousness in him. Her heart went out to him.
“Yes. I have to work this Saturday, Vincent. I should be done by lunchtime though. Shall I meet you at the threshold?”
He was thoughtful, pondering. He knew the likelihood that he would get no sleep until he had spoken with her anyway. He nodded, then affirmed, “No come to my chamber, if I am not there I will be beside the Falls.”
That was significant.
Catherine’s heart hammered. “Shall I go to you there?”
For a moment Vincent could not reply, and for a moment leaned his forehead against hers, almost as if he hoped the gesture would infuse her strength into him. “Yes,” he spoke so silently that Catherine barely heard it.
Again her heart went out to him, and she caught his arm as he turned to leave. “Vincent?”
His eyes when he looked at her were unreadable, Catherine detected a hint of sorrow, but it was quickly gone. “Yes?”
“Remember love.”
He nodded, how could he forget love?
Especially this night?

*** *** ***


Catherine hadn’t spent a very good night. To her, Vincent had seemed so withdrawn and she worried about that incessantly. Still believing her note was at the root of the problem, she chided herself repeatedly on sending it to him. She had in effect taken the coward’s way out in doing so at all, believing that he would at least have to confront the matter once he knew it was on her mind.
Pressing hard onto her writing pad with her pencil, she visibly jumped when the tip snapped off, and she set about wiping the tiny shards of lead off the pad and into the nearest waste bin. Behind her, edging slowly toward her desk, came Edie.
She too had spent a sleepless night, and now as she approached her friend’s back, Edie found a merit of strength that she was afforded the chance of approaching Catherine and having the chance to compose herself before her friend turned around and saw her.
Catherine was still bending over the waste bin, as Edie spoke a trifle nervously. “H—Hi, Cath...y.”
Catherine turned in her chair, swiveling it around to face the other woman. “Hi Edie. Oooh, you look terrible.”
“Thanks. You don’t look so good yourself. Problems?”
“So-so.” Catherine was not feeling much like talking today.
“Same old same old?”
Catherine nodded.
Edie reached for the nearest chair. “No change in him, nothing?”
Catherine eyed the other occupants of her office, and kept her voice low. “He came to see me and he was different, but whether it’s a good difference or a bad difference I have to wait until later to know. He seemed distant somehow, like he had a problem that weighed heavily on his mind.”
“Gee, I’m sorry, Cathy.”
Catherine eyed her friend speculatively. “You say that as if you are to blame,” Catherine laughed. “It has nothing to do with you, Edie.” She laughed again, surprised when her friend did not quip some witty remark. Edie’s face grew serious.
“Edie?”
“You’re right, girlfriend, it has nothing to do with me, but it’s just that I care about you, Cath.”
“What are you talking about?” Catherine grinned at her. “Say, have you had coffee this morning?” It was well-documented between the pair and their social group that people who hadn’t had coffee before work each morning were cranky and spoke scandalous things. Catherine laughed, her giggles slowing to a mere trickle as Edie refused to rise to the bait. In fact, Catherine could see now that her friend was decidedly uncomfortable about something.
“Edie, what’s the matter?”
Edie drew a deep breath. “I did something.”
“And...?”
“I wanted to help.”
Alarm bells sounded in Catherine’s head. She whispered forcefully now, “Edie, what did you do?” The worry was evident in her tone.
For long moments, Edie wondered why she was doing this. Perhaps tomorrow would be a finer time to confess.
“It’s nothing Cathy, don’t worry.” Edie stood, wanting to get out of there as fast as possible, as far from her friend’s accusing eyes as she could right now.
Catherine leaned forward and grabbed Edie’s arm. “Edie, tell me.”
Exhaling a big sigh, Edie sat down again, and fiddled with her hands upon her lap, unable to look at Catherine.
Catherine’s face brightened. “Never seen you lost for words before.”
“There’s always a first time,” mumbled Edie.
“So what did you do that was so terrible? Rob a bank? Ask Joe for a date? Ask Moreno for a date!” Catherine grinned, and Edie had the grace to smile before her face fell flat again. “Worse than that.”
“Worse than asking Moreno? Who’d you ask?”
Here goes, thought Edie taking another deep breath. “I asked your guy to call me,” she whispered.
All the color drained from Catherine’s face and for long moments she was unable to speak. Eventually she choked. “You spoke to Vincent? When? How!”
Edie’s face rose to meet the accusation in her friend’s eyes. “I sent him a message.”
Catherine shook her head, “No, that’s impossible. You wouldn’t know where to find him, how to reach him. Edie you must be mistaken.”
“I’m not mistaken, Cathy.” Now it was said, Edie found her voice again, somehow she found her usual buoyant courage. “I watched you hand that old guy a note yesterday. I figured it was a message for Vincent and I just did the same.”
Catherine’s eyes widened more and more. “Edie!” She rose to her feet shoving back the chair in her wake, and walked rapidly around to the other woman, who was also now rising. Catherine grabbed her arm. “You, out. With me, come now!”
Edie grimaced; this was Catherine Chandler—little Hitler—whom she had met only occasionally in the courtroom. This was a side of Catherine that she had never wanted to see directed her way. Well, she only had herself to blame. So lead me to the firing squad, she thought to herself grimly as Catherine tugged her towards the elevator.
Catherine didn’t speak and didn’t stop until she had bustled Edie into the nearest coffee bar and shoved her down into a seat in a secluded corner. There Catherine plunked herself down opposite in a menacing pose that defied Edie to escape.
The two glared at one another (at least Catherine glared), Edie cowered for few moments, and then, dammit, her courage returned. “Say, who are you to push me around like that?”
“Me, push you? Why you interfering, meddling...” Catherine seethed as Edie took up the narrative, “Honest, reliable, trustworthy, don’t forget those... Cathy, I did it only for you,” Edie pleaded, “and it’s not all bad.”
“Not all—” Catherine choked on her anger. “Edie!”
“Is it?”
“He was different with me.”
“Could have been your note - whatever you put in it.”
“Could have been yours too. So what did you put in it?”
“Nothing much, I wasn’t even certain it would reach him, or that your note was heading his way. I just asked him to call me, said I was worried about you. Asked him not to tell you I’d written to him.”
A wry smile tugged at the corners of Catherine’s lips—oh yes, Edie has certainly used the right bait there if she wanted a response from Vincent.
“And?”
“He called me.”
“And?”
“Hell Cathy, I just told him the way it was...”
“Wait a minute, how do you know it was Vincent?”
The question delayed in making contact with Edie’s brain, for she was continuing, “Oh that voice, Cathy how do you stand just listening to him and not want to rip his clothes off?”
Her question answered, a smile lit up Catherine’s face. That was Vincent. Edie had certainly made contact with Vincent.
A giggle erupted from Catherine at Edie’s words. “With great difficulty,” she answered grinning from ear to ear.
There was silence for a moment or two as the waitress brought their coffee, and as they pair sipped at the mahogany liquid. “Oooh, that’s good.” Edie replaced her cup to the table. “I’m alive again now.”
“Not for long,” Catherine put her cup down too.
“You’re still mad with me, aren’t you?”
“I’m as mad as hell. You had no right, Edie.”
“Even if my intentions were good?”
“Even if your intentions were good.”
Silence befell the two again, as Catherine contemplated her next words.
Edie beat her to it. “He did listen to me, mind you...”
Catherine jumped on that. “Yes?”
“Well I did kinda lay it on him. Told him exactly what I thought of him stringing you along like he does.”
“EDIE!”
All heads turned in their direction, and Catherine frantically sought to lower her voice. “I could kill you,” she seethed through gritted teeth, “and I still might.”
“You’d get life,” Edie tried to joke. “There are witnesses.”
“This is no laughing matter, Edie!”
“Hey, do you see me laughing, you just threaten to take my life and you think I find that funny?” A smile quirked the edges of Edie’s mouth.
But Catherine was furious!
She rose from her seat. “I know you considered us friends, Edie, but what you did was wrong. There are things about Vincent you don’t know, could never possibly hope to know. And words such as ‘stringing me along’ would hurt him deeply.”
“So what are you saying?” Edie rose from her seat too.
“I’m saying from this moment, Edie, consider our friendship terminated!”
Catherine backed away a little, glaring at her friend, then turned and left the bar. Edie sank back down as her whole world collapsed around her, and her heart broke as she witnessed Catherine wiping the tears away from her cheeks furiously as she hurried past the window.

*** *** ***


Deep in the catacombs, Vincent looked without seeing, at the immense fall of water in front of him. If he had a dime for every moment he had gone to the Falls to sit and contemplate about things, he would be well-matched in wealth with Catherine by now. But he hadn’t, and he never would be able to match Catherine in wealth. He knew she didn’t mind that, but he did. He had nothing with which to offer her, but himself. Yet was that enough? Was that truly enough?
So many times, so many occasions he could dredge to mind when Catherine had begged him to believe in her love for him, her unconditional love and affection, her readiness to accept him as he was, her desire for him, yes even that.
Vincent marveled at that. That desire, ever apparent in her makeup. For him!
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he thought about all the times that Catherine had unsuccessfully, or a little belatedly, clamped down on the bond so as not to allow him to know of that desire.
The first time it had happened he thought he’d been mistaken. But when it had occurred repeatedly after that, and he began to detect the emotion in her eyes, Vincent slowly began to believe.
Catherine wanted him as he wanted her, as he had always wanted her, from that very first moment he had brought her into his world.
It was hard for him to admit that even to himself, least of all to Catherine. But now after receiving her note and after that disturbing conversation with her friend Edie, Vincent was forced to confront the issue.
Edie had said Catherine was hurting. Vincent knew that. Had known it for some time, but had chosen to ignore it, hoping it would go away.
He knew that it had not gone away; he knew that every time he and Catherine were together, the feeling had intensified, making it harder and harder for Catherine to hide it away in the corner of her heart reserved for such emotions.
He’d hoped that she might meet another man to love; he’d told her often enough that this was her destiny, but he faced the fact now that it would kill him if that ever happened. And besides how many times did Narcissa wish to bang his head against the wall and tell him that Catherine had already met her destiny in him?
If he was fighting against destiny, then sending her away would never be achieved.
Edie’s untimely, or was it timely intervention into their lives made him have to face it now, and then of course there was Catherine’s note. Funny how the two had followed hot on the trail of the other. Edie must have seen the distress Catherine had been in to have been prompted to do something about it.
He should have been annoyed that a complete stranger had been able to contact him, but then Edie had explained that in her note. She wasn’t certain it would reach him; she had only limited knowledge of him and then only because of a book she had seen in Catherine’s apartment inscribed by his hand.
Vincent knew little of Edie, but what he did know was that the woman was adept at uncovering information. Well, she had uncovered him, and perhaps more of him than she had intended.
Vincent had spent a sleepless night delving deep into his heart, uncovering all his secret desires and bringing them forth into the open.
Now was the time to confront his fears and move through them.
Catherine would arrive shortly, he could sense her approach; she was already in the tunnels. Vincent exhaled a deep sigh; if only he knew what it was he was going to tell her. He needed more time, but in effect, hadn’t he had long enough already? The time was upon him now, their future was upon them. Fearfully he acknowledged that it was time to meet his date with destiny.

*** *** ***


“Good morning, Catherine... I didn’t expect to see you until this evening.” Father walked towards the young woman, a plate of scrumptious-looking cookies in his hand. He offered the plate toward her. “Hungry?”
“I wasn’t. But they smell delicious. Has William just baked them?”
Father nodded. “Still warm in the middle. Go on take a couple.”
Catherine reached for one. “Thanks.”
“Take another while you have the chance; this is my second sitting, William will have to make some more before tea time.”
Catherine laughed, reaching for another. “Thank you.” She bit into the first. “Mmm, they’re wonderful.”
“Vincent isn’t in his chamber,” Father told her now, “but if you’d like to wait?”
“No, it’s all right, Father. I’ve made prior arrangements with Vincent. He said he’d be at the Falls.”
“Well, take a few more cookies then, will you my dear? I never saw Vincent at breakfast; he’s probably feeling hungry by now.”
Catherine reached for another three, leaving just two on the plate, and smiled when Father grimaced at his meager supply. “Just think of it this way, Father—those freshly made ones later today will seem all the more appealing.”
Father laughed. “Nevertheless, a few extra samples now wouldn’t go amiss.” He turned on his heel to go back to the kitchen hoping there might just be a few left there. “Tell Vincent not to miss dinner,” he called over his shoulder.
“I will, Father. See you later.”
“Bye dear.”
Catherine laughed softly to herself, and extracting a clean handkerchief from her pocket, carefully wrapped Vincent’s share into it, returned the hankerchief to her pocket and continued to munch upon her own share.
Then slowly, nervously she made her way to the Falls, amazed that she could actually swallow the biscuits at all.

*** *** ***


“Vincent?”
“I’m here, Catherine.” From the ledge at the side of the great falls Vincent rose to meet her.
“Father sent some cookies, and an admonition not to miss dinner,” she grinned at him, unfolding the handkerchief and offering the cookies to him. He took them one by one absentmindedly. “Thank you.”
“Take them all, I’ve already eaten mine. They should be still warm.”
“Thank you.” Vincent took them all, but did not attempt to eat any. He slipped them into a fold of his cloak, where Catherine knew there was a large pocket.
It was unusual that Vincent did not capitulate to the aroma emitted from the succulent fare. He was usually a sucker for fresh cookies, often raiding the kitchen before they were even out of the oven. His keen sense of smell allowed him to know they were baking ahead of any other person.
“Have you been here long?” Catherine could see by the pinched look on his face that he was chilled.
“Several hours.”
“Resolved anything?” she asked as he reached for her hand to lead her back to his place.
“No.” Well, at least he was honest with her.
“Can we talk about this, Vincent? I know Edie spoke to you—I’m sorry about that, I didn’t know till this morning.”
“She told you?”
“Confessed.”
“She told you everything that she said?”
“Not everything. Enough. Enough to know how her words must have hurt you. I’m sorry, Vincent.”
“Why should you apologise? You didn’t ask her to take this upon herself and interfere.”
“No, but she derived enough from me to know how I was feeling about things between us. I should have been more careful. Should have left my emotions at home.”
“You shouldn’t have been burdened with such emotions at all,” he spoke quietly, regretfully.
“I’m not complaining, Vincent.”
“You should be.”
“Why?”
He fell silent, unable to find the words to express himself.
“Vincent...let me live in your world...with you. Please... I want to be with you. Really I do.” Her eyes were pleading but Vincent did not look up at her to notice.
“You don’t know what it is you ask, Catherine. It’s not as simple as that.”
“I do, and it is. When I say I want to be with you, it’s not a mere companion thing. Vincent, you know that, you know what I am feeling. You know that I love you.”
Vincent swallowed with difficulty, and unable to find his voice, he nodded slowly.
“Do you love me, Vincent?”
For that, he could not keep silent. “With all that I am,” he whispered, still unable to face her.
“Vincent, look at me.”
He refused, unable.
Catherine took his chin with one hand and turned his head around to face her. She gazed into his eyes. “I love you, I want to be with you, I want you. Do you understand, Vincent? I want you.”
He stared into her eyes for long a moment, and he nodded just the once, so slightly that only the movement upon her fingers alerted her to the fact.
“Do you want me, Vincent?”
Having difficulty knowing how deeply that need was for her, Vincent was again unable to reply. He was unable to question lest his hope was shattered, lest the kind of need Catherine spoke of did not run akin to his own. But Catherine understood. “You want me to spell it out for you?” Vincent shook his head at that, he didn’t know why, but suddenly while there was confusion between them he could continue to hide from this matter for a little while longer.
Silence fell between them while each waited, and Vincent was reminded of Edie’s words of the following evening: “You keep her on a tightrope, man.” Vincent could relate to that now. He shook himself, this was no good; he had to say things, had to spill from his heart all the things he felt. Really it was time.
“Catherine?”
“Vincent.” They spoke as one, and then grinned. “You first,” Catherine told him shyly.
It was difficult knowing where to start, how to start. For so long he’d known this conversation word for word, but now the first word would not form. Catherine ventured an opening. “I could still be a woman of both worlds, Vincent, if that’s what you want. Except I could live down here and go Above when needed.”
Vincent took up Catherine’s hands within his own. “Catherine, your message read that the wall between our worlds had grown thin; why do you now speak of two worlds?”
“Forgive me. I do believe the walls have grown thin, I was just speaking for you.”
“Then how do you know that I do not agree that the walls between our worlds has grown thin?”
“I’m sorry?” Catherine was confused by his words.
Vincent drew in a deep breath, “Catherine I understand, really I do. At first there was just you in your world and me in mine, but of late I have felt the difference dissipating as have you, the gap has lessened, but to have you live here with me, I don’t know if that would be wise.”
“Why not?”
Vincent sighed, his eyes leaving her face to stare out at the great fall of water in front of them. “Catherine when you say you want me, how do you define want?” There—it was said, and he couldn’t take it back, though, oh how he wanted to do. He dare not look at her. He just daren’t.
Catherine almost laughed, almost. She wondered if he was ready to hear of her need, she wondered how much she should tell him of it. She knew that once she had started she might well shock him into running away and never coming back. An enigmatic look passed over her features as she contemplated telling him of her needs.
“How do I define wanting you? Are you really ready to hear that?” Catherine whispered.
Vincent nodded, continuing to stare ahead, wanting to hear it so badly, yet wanting nothing more than to cover his ears too.
“I don’t know if I should tell you,” Catherine told him with a little humor to her tone. “I mean I don’t know how you feel; your need might not match mine. I might surprise you.” Shock him, more like, Catherine mused to herself.
Still without looking at her, Vincent replied, “I love you, Catherine, and I want you as a man wants the woman that he loves.” That was an understatement. The burning, raging ever-present flames that licked at his groin whenever he was near her could hardly be contained.
Encouraged, Catherine rose to her knees and leaned into his neck, determined to whisper words only he should ever hear, though they were quite alone.
“I want you, Vincent, likewise; I want to spend my time here with you, sharing everything you do, sharing every moment of my life with you, loving you. To share your bed, with you.” Vincent shuddered at this, her warm breath fanning his ear, his neck and a familiar throbbing started once again in his loins. “But I don’t just want to be your lover, I want to be your wife, I want to give you children, I want to be the one to make all your dreams come true.” Catherine detected his trembling growing beneath her hands, his panting breath coming hard and fast, and she again held his chin to turn him to face her. “Do you want that, Vincent? Don’t be afraid to say yes.” Her touch burned him, her eyes blazed with his. “Yes,” he rasped, “yes, oh yes.” He shuffled around to face her, his arms reaching for her, his head leaning in on her, and his mouth, that delicious wonderful mouth hungry for her lips.
Oh the joy! The indescribable joy as his mouth came down on hers—Catherine clung to him, whimpering, melting in his arms. “I love you,” she managed to murmur against his mouth, “I love you so much.”
“As I love you, dearest Catherine.” His tongue probed her sweetness, he couldn’t get enough, and the fire raged out of control as he shuffled to stand, still with his mouth clasped hard against hers. “Come with me?” he whispered.
“Always.”
She felt his arousal, and glorified in it by pressing herself closer against him, letting him know she agreed to this taking place between them right now.
Vincent groaned as she pressed her own heat close to his, and he gathered her into his arms. “Trust me?” he whispered.
“Yes. I know you would never hurt me, Vincent.”
“I know of a place.” His eyes searched hers, searched for any sign of lingering doubts. There were none.
“Take me there.”
Satisfied, Vincent carried her close to his heart, his strides lengthening in a hurry to take her to his special place. A place he had chosen long ago as suitable to love his Catherine. It was warm there, and he went there often to dream the impossible dream. But this day it would no longer be impossible, this day he and his Catherine would be as one. This day they met their destiny, took a hold of it and walked right through their fears.
“Remind me to thank your friend sometime,” Vincent whispered as they reached the place where all his dreams would soon be realized.
“Oh! Edie!” Catherine exclaimed.
“Is there a problem?”
“Not anymore.”
Catherine smiled into his neck, trailing adoring kisses at the exposed skin she found there. There was no problem at all, just a few enormous bridges to build that’s all. But then Edie would understand wouldn’t she? Maybe if she kissed her feet or something? Cathetine grinned impishly at the thought.
And as Vincent settled her down a moment to spread out his cloak upon the sandy floor, before taking her back into his arms, a wry smile lit Catherine’s face, as she thought to herself. Edie is a true friend...and I wonder how she feels about being a bridesmaid yet again?
And then all thoughts of Edie and every other person were forgotten, as Vincent and Catherine’s dream unfolded within each other’s arms.

The End, almost...

Some time later.
“Vincent?”
“Mmm?”
“What’s that in your pocket? It’s kind of bumpy and sticky?”
Vincent raised his head from off her shoulder, to look where she was pointing. “I don’t know my love.”
He reached forth and took the fold of his cloak in his hand, delved inside the pocket and extracted his hand with a wry grin on his face. “Are you hungry Catherine?”
“Not anymore.” Catherine had never felt so satisfied in her life! “Why?”
“Only I was wondering... Would you like a crumb of cookie, or maybe two or three or four or...” His voice trailed away filled with bubbling laughter and joined by Catherine as he showed her his cookie-covered hand.
“Just don’t tell William and you’ll be all right,” Catherine told him joyfully.
“I’ve no intention of telling William.” Vincent sounded indignant at that.
“How come?”
“He’d want to know how I managed to crush them...” Catherine burst into a fresh bout of the giggles.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to share them with me?” Vincent popped the crumbs into his mouth.
“Perfectly sure. Hey, mind where you’re dropping those crumbs.”
“It was intentional.”
Catherine’s eyebrows raised at that. “Vincent Wells, you are a very quick learner.”
“I’ve read a lot of books,” he grinned at her, and Catherine began to love this new side to him, and it was infectious.
“And now its time to put those books aside and put what you’ve learned into practice,” Catherine teased.
Swallowing the last of the cookie crumbs, Vincent rubbed his nose affectionately against hers. “No, my love, you’ve got that wrong.”
Catherine smiled up at him, waiting for him to continue.
“Now’s the time for me to open a fresh page and start a new chapter. With you,” he told her before taking her lips beneath his again.
“Mmm,” Catherine agreed, returning his kisses in full measure. “I only hope it’s a very long book.”
Vincent chuckled. He felt so happy - never had he felt such joy, never. Catherine was his life, and she would be his wife and he could hardly believe that. In fact there were a lot of things that would take some getting used to, but he looked forward to them with an eagerness that knew no bounds.
And at the top of his list, the thing he gave credence to right at that moment, was making the time to thank Catherine’s friend for helping him to see the light. And for helping him to realize that no matter how much a person may try, they can never ever, run away from love.

Now it’s the end.

                   

 


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The stories found within this website have been written by and for lovers of the American television series Beauty and the Beast and no infringement upon the rights held by Ron Koslow, CBS, Republic Entertainment, Witt-Thomas Productions or any other Copyright holder to Beauty and the Beast is intended.

Furthermore all the stories found on this website belong to Wendy Tunnard de-Veryard, are protected by copyright and none should be copied, added to or subtracted from or altered in any way, without the prior authorisation of the author.