Breathing deeply, Catherine drew the cold night air into her lungs before letting it out slowly with a long sigh of pure bliss. “Oh Vincent, this is wonderful. It’s been so long.” She grasped his arm tightly, playing her gloved fingers against his cloak-covered arm she smiled up at him. “Thank you for bringing me out tonight. It was as you presumed, just what I needed.”

Vincent smiled, his blue eyes soft and caressing as he spoke softly, “Just what the doctor ordered actually, Catherine. Father told me that he thought you could do with a brisk walk in the park this evening. Something about bringing colour to your cheeks.” He chuckled, “And your eyes too if I might add. Catherine, I don’t think I have seen you this happy in a long time.”

“I don’t think I’ve been this happy in a long time, Vincent. That last case was gruelling.”

“As are they all. You work too hard, Catherine. William I believe has noticed also, and is preparing a fine supper even as we speak. He feels you have lost weight these past few weeks. You need fattening up.” (Not that I’m complaining.) Vincent thought to himself. Though he would never voice such thoughts. Catherine was beautiful in his eyes whether she carried a few extra pounds or not.

Her silence seeped through his thoughts and he looked down concerned, “What is it? What troubles you so, Catherine.”

“In a word, William. Oh, Vincent, I’m sorry to have to disappoint him, but I simply cannot stay below tonight. I promised Joe I would go over the depositions I took today and try to get them in some kind of order before tomorrow morning. Do you think William will mind very much?”

Remembering his earlier conversation with William, Vincent knew that the older man would be disappointed, however he also knew that there had been other occasions when the same thing had happened, and William, not to be deterred had simply parcelled everything up placed it in a wicker hamper and had it delivered to Catherine’s apartment.

Smiling up at him, Catherine could almost read his thoughts on the subject. “Would you deliver the hamper to me, Vincent?” She laughed as did he. “We could share the feast. William always sends far too much for one.”

“I have a feeling,” Vincent began as he steered her toward the park entrance and ultimately to her apartment building, “that William deliberately puts in enough for two. I think someone has been talking and he is well aware of our time spent upon your balcony throughout the nights.”

To herself Catherine smiled, it seemed she had another ally in the world below. Who would have thought that the burly fellow William had added himself to the long line of people that had made themselves Cupid, as far as she and Vincent were concerned? It was a pity really that Vincent refused to take advantage of their plans, yes a real pity indeed. Catherine for one would like nothing more, and sometimes she despaired that their relationship would ever get off the ground, let alone soar into infinity itself.

“I can deliver it Catherine, but I’d best not keep you up all night if you have work to do, much as the thought of feasting upon William’s wares delights me.” Catherine loved the way he chuckled, and she snuggled closer to him wishing she could hear that delicious sound more often.

“You could help me go over the depositions, sometimes an outside view is very helpful. There are times when it seems I get so close that I cannot see the wood for the trees. If you really don’t mind being up all night with me, I could sure do with the company, not to mention your help.”

Vincent smiled, knowing full well that Catherine was good at her job. It would be a rare day indeed before she’d need outside help, however, he snatched up the opportunity with almost indecent haste, “Yes, thank you Catherine, I’d like to help.” And suddenly the empty evening that had yawned endlessly before him was filled once again. Filled with the satisfying thought of a night spent alongside Catherine, snuggled close against him to keep warm upon her balcony. However, Catherine shattered a little of that expectation when she said, “Of course, we simply cannot go over the depositions outside, far too cold for that, not to mention the fact that the papers would become wet, even if they didn’t blow away. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind coming inside to help me on this occasion, would you Vincent? You could save me some time by lighting the fire while I unpack William’s wares.”

She waited while he assimilated that bit of information, holding her breath until he finally replied albeit reluctantly she sadly noticed, “Yes, alright Catherine, on this occasion, I see no reason why we should be outside.” A little of his joy plummeted. Inside the warmth of the apartment there would be no need to hold her close to keep warm, no reason to reach for her, no excuses he could think of to have her snuggle up against him. As much as the evening ahead filled him with a sense of excitement, he also felt disappointed and wondered if he ought to have agreed to help her after all.

“Well we’re here now, Vincent. How long will you be do you think? Or if you’d prefer we could send word to William to being the hamper to the threshold and I could collect it later. That would save you having to go back, you could simply meet me on the balcony in a few minutes.”

Vincent nodded, and they both knew he would accept. Sometimes when he saw her home above ground like this, they both worried and fretted that something awful would happen on his return. Seemed stupid to have to put oneself at risk when one had already reached one’s destination. They both knew of incidences where friends had arrived home and had gone back for whatever reason and on the return trip home again something terrible had happened that had cost them their lives.

“I’ll meet you on the balcony in five minutes.” Catherine told him relinquishing the hold on his arm with some displeasure. Even five minutes apart from him was too long. Catherine raced to her apartment and had flung open the French doors in four minutes, thus savouring that extra minute back in his arms. “I missed you.” She held him tight before leading him into her apartment. “Can I take your cloak? Would you like some hot chocolate, I’m having one.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for William’s hamper?” Vincent cocked his head to one side, knowing full well that in her haste to let him into her apartment, all thoughts of sending William a message had gone clean out of her head.

Catherine smacked a hand to her mouth, “Oh!” Causing Vincent to laugh out loud as she ran for the door, “I’ll be back in a moment, I forgot to call William, hold on.” Yet Vincent caught her arm, pulling her back, “There’s no need, Catherine. Just telephone a helper to beat out a message it’ll probably be quicker.”

Catherine blushed hotly, even as Vincent chuckled, “Am I so transparent?” she asked.

“Only to me.” Inclining his head closer Catherine thrilled at the way his rich tones tantalised her flesh.

“I just hate being apart from you too long.” She added by way of explanation. How was it he could send her into a quivering mass of longing with one look? How did he know that even saying she would send William a message even now, that it was the last thing she wanted to do. Any separation from him was way too long.

The air suddenly fraught with tension captivated the pair as they gazed with undisguised longing at one another, until the Bond that they shared told Vincent he was staring, and that Catherine was expecting something from him he was unprepared to give.

“Where do you keep the matches?” Looking toward the fireplace ready made for lighting Vincent asked, beginning to move in its direction.

“What? Oh? The matches? Er…they’re in the kitchen…just a minute I’ll fetch them for you.” Her heart was hammering as she walked unsteadily toward the tiny room in question. When she arrived she almost couldn’t remember what she had gone in there for. And she jumped when she heard him speak from behind her. “The matches Catherine?” making her flustered even more.

At that moment, at that very precise moment, Catherine willed herself to not say, ‘damn the matches’ thus closing her eyes tightly she fought the urge to turn around slide her arms around his waist and draw him to her for a long and very passionate kiss. Fighting against the feeling took some doing, and it didn’t help to know that Vincent remained behind her, or the fact that through their connection he was probably very much aware of how she was feeling. How could he do that to her? Drawing a deep breath she reached into a drawer and extracted the little yellow box depicting a picture of a bright red flame and thought she understood the design perfectly. Right now she was very much on fire herself.

Turning, she found it impossible to look into his eyes, as she placed the box of matches in his outstretched hand, then quickly moved past him with the intention of going anywhere just as long as it was somewhere where she could catch her breath and breathe normally again.

Vincent watched her go. How on earth had he done that? What had possessed him? Uncontent to wait until she brought the matches out to him, he had had to follow her, knowing full well of her emotions at that moment. The air around them positively beat with passion. He could feel it and knowing it made him reckless. Looking down at the tiny box in his hands he felt he could easily relate to the sight of that flame burning bright, much the same as Catherine had done earlier, and he suddenly knew that he had been wrong to accept her offer to come here tonight. How he would get through the hours until he could leave he did not know.

Inside her bedroom, Catherine leaned against the firmly closed door, stilling her racing heart. It was difficult. Some times with Vincent it was harder than others to disguise her need for him. Plus the fact that she had been celibate for so long that any look, word or minor deed could trigger a staggering response in her, that fairly left her dangerous to be with. A derisive laugh shook her frame, and he thought he was the one that could cause her harm!

There were times when she cursed his virginity, his innocence his other self that he feared so much. Why oh why had Father instilled within Vincent the fact that the usual way of life could never be for him? At his age, Vincent should have had countless lovers by now, although Catherine had to admit it was awfully appealing to her that he had not.

‘You can’t have it both ways, Cathy. “ She admonished herself as her heart steadied enough for her to believe she could face him again. Oh but to have him accept that she was his for the taking, that she would be oh so willing to teach him all that she knew.

The first sound she heard as she opened the door was the crackle of burning wood, and her first sight was of Vincent bend low over the fire warming his ungloved hands. He looked as always magnificent. It was all Catherine could do, to walk toward him as if he was nothing but a dear friend, rather than a potential lover that she ached to rip the clothes off of.

She chuckled as she approached knowing her thoughts, hoping he would not know of them too, yet even so knowing full well that he knew everything when he turned to watch her walking toward him. Catherine swallowed with difficulty, they were, she knew at turning point now. It was so plain to see it frightened her.

“Vincent?” She queried softly, a tremor in her voice noticeable even though she tried to quell it.

“Catherine?” Those soft, velvet tones did something to her insides that Catherine could not dwell on. “The fire is going well.” He added, though it was obvious that he had clutched for something, anything to say. And Catherine almost laughed wishing to add, ‘you don’t know the half of it my love.’

Yet of course he did. Vincent shuddered at the smouldering look in her eyes. His breathing ragged, his limbs melting wanting nothing more than to crush her against him and seek everything that she offered so openly this night. Yet he knew the impossibility of it. They both did.

“I have something for you.” Catherine surprised herself that she had even thought of it yet pleased for the distraction. Any moment now she could see he would take flight, not knowing or not wishing to know how to handle the situation that had flared so readily between them.

“For me?” It was easy to see that he had difficulty even speaking those two little words, and even more difficult for Catherine not to turn and look at him as he tried to regain his composure before she brought whatever gift she had back to him.

“I know you’ll use it Vincent. Joe bought it for me, well that’s not strictly true. Joe had several boxes of them made up to hand to his staff and his clients, but I already have more than I need, and it has so much space, I’m sure you could fill it.” Mystified Vincent waited until Catherine rummaged through a drawer and extracted a large gilt bound ledger. “See it has about six inches of writing space for each day. I confess that I did start to use it, but I found it simply too large for me.”

“If you started to use it surely the data will be needed?” Vincent asked as she placed the ledger into his hands. It was inscribed with the words Joe Maxwell District Attorney on the front cover, and inside there was a list of his staff with Catherine’s name as Assistant District Attorney heading the column.

“No, I’ve transferred what little I wrote into another diary,” Catherine assured him, “and if you are going to next say that confidential matters might fall into the wrong hands, then don’t worry. Most of what was written within this ledger is in code that only I would understand. Keep it Vincent it’s yours. I’m certain you will find a use for it. Apart from which there are some very useful telephone numbers printed inside, that Father might like to take note of.”

“Then thank you Catherine, I will keep it.” Briefly Vincent flicked through the pages. He was astounded at the amount of space assigned for each day. It was obviously a very impressive diary.

There were as she had maintained, a few additions, but he could make neither head nor tale of them. This relieved him for as much as he trusted everyone below he knew well of the saying, 'one can never be too careful.'

With the diary in Vincent’s hands, Catherine searched around the room for her briefcase, “Well I guess we had better knuckle down to those depositions.” She told him spying it behind the apartment door where she had lunged it earlier on her arrival home from the office. “I expect whomsoever delivers William’s feast will knock loud enough for us to hear them from here don’t you think?” Catherine indicated the table situated near the balcony doors, “I thought it would be nice to have the city lights as a backdrop while we work.”

Vincent understood the underlying reason and felt his heart flutter once more. Catherine always had his welfare at heart. She would know that he would feel less pressured if he could see the night sky from his vantage point rather than have the curtains closed. And Catherine was well aware that he would hear a pin drop let alone somebody knocking while he was in the apartment with her. So by her maintaining that they needed to be by the window was he knew for his benefit and not for hers. He loved her a little more for that. She always seemed to put him first something he tried to do likewise but often failed miserably. Well tonight he would surprise her. “Now we’ve got a roaring fire going, it would be a shame not to sit beside it Catherine, and I’m sure you could benefit from sitting on a cosy chair after being forced to sit on a hard one all day at work.”

Catherine chuckled accepting the offer at once, “They aren’t so bad, but you are right it is always a pleasure to come home kick off my shoes and flop myself down on the sofa. If only Joe could be made to realise that his staff would prefer comfortable seats with extra padding rather than large diaries they’ll never fill, it would be preferable. Though I believe the diaries were an extra reward from a satisfied client as it happens.”

They crossed the room and had just seated when the knock at the door they had both been expecting sounded. Crossing to the door, Catherine peeped through the spy hole and asked ‘who is it?’ needlessly because she could clearly see that Mouse and Jamie stood outside.

“Hi Catherine,” they chorused as she opened the door before they could reply to her earlier question, and Jamie went on “This is from William. He said to be sure that you and Vincent,” she whispered the last looking over her shoulder and all around as she did so, “ eat it all.” She laughed, “If the weight of it is anything to go by, there’ll be enough to keep the two of you holed up here for a week!”

“I wish.” Catherine quipped softly causing Jamie to regard her sympathetically, as most of the women below knew how difficult Vincent was when it came to being with Catherine longer than was deemed respectable.

“Well you never know your luck,” Jamie whispered, “and it is snowing rather heavily. We’re going back via the threshold, that’s okay isn’t it?”

“Yes of course, stay for a while if you like. Come and warm yourselves by the fire.” Though she meant it and though she felt a heel for thinking anything but, Catherine was relieved when Jamie and Mouse declined the offer, “Thanks Catherine but we have to go, we promised Olivia we’d look after Luke tonight while she and Kanin take in a concert. Have a nice evening.”

“You too, and thanks for bringing this up, I owe you one.”

The two friends waved goodbye Mouse chattering about the hall, the plush peach carpet, the pictures on the walls. It must have been as far removed from what he was used to as one could get, yet Catherine was well aware that though little was known of Mouse’s past he simply thought of his world below as paradise and wouldn’t change it for anywhere else.

Lifting the heavy wicker basket into the apartment, Catherine shuffled to balance it and close the door, as two strong hands lifted the hamper away from her, and she watched with undisguised longing as Vincent took the food toward the kitchen area. She loved to watch him walk. It did something to her that she did not allow herself the chance to analyse. Closing the door firmly, she decided not to go and investigate as she heard him transferring food to plates, but to wait until he brought William’s wares back to their place by the roaring log fire.

As she waited, she watched the flames rolling and licking the sizzling wood, and imagined once again that they were her fingers trailing fire over Vincent’s sensitised torso. How she would love to have the freedom to touch him so.

“Penny for them.” Catherine almost jumped out of her skin to find him beside her and not to have been aware of his approach so lost in her dreams had she been.

“They’re worth far more than pennies, Vincent. They’re priceless.” Catherine answered with a slight catch to her voice. Vincent did not pursue the question further, already he knew enough of the content of her daydreams through their connection, and he frowned not for the first time that evening as the words ‘I shouldn’t be here’ galloped through his mind.

“Catherine, we should talk.” Settling the tray of food down on the coffee table in front of her, he straightened and looked at her with his steady blue gaze.

“Talk? About what?” Guarded, Catherine deliberately took longer than usual making her selection from the very many wares set before her. Sandwiches made from thick slices of still warm crusty bread, oozing with butter and soft cheese, pastries of many sizes and shapes and fillings, the scent of which wafted and made her stomach rumble, reminding her that it was hours since she had eaten anything. A flask of rich hot chocolate that Vincent had opened and had readied two large mugs alongside and the delicious scent of hot vegetable broth tantalised her nostrils from another flask set to the side of the chocolate filled one.

It grieved Vincent to have to bring this up. He wanted nothing more than to absorb himself and glorify in Catherine’s daydreams, but he knew he had to do something, say something before she dwelt on things that were impossible for them. For several weeks now he had been aware that her thoughts of him had shifted to a more personal level. Some of her emotions had scared him half to death while at the same time astounded him that she could imagine such things happening between them.

“We need to talk about you and me.” Vincent whispered at last, seating himself opposite her on the other sofa.

Slowly Catherine raised cautious eyes to his, dreading what he might say next.

“You and me?” She squeaked nervously.

“Yes. Catherine, I am flattered, no I find it incredulous that you should think of me the way that you do, but it can lead no where Catherine, you must see that.” He shook his head sadly, “If I was not as I am…” he left the words unfinished allowing for her response.

“You would what?” Her answer surprised him. Always in the past when he had used the famous phrase she had assured him that he was no different in her eyes, that he was more than a man not less. Her question threw him.

“I’m sorry Catherine. What do you mean?”

“If you were not as you are, what then would you do?”

Vincent thought hard, though he had no need to think at all. He knew instantly what he would do, what he would have done aeons ago, had he not been as he was, if he was the man she deemed him to be. But he couldn’t answer her question and so instead replied, “I should go, Catherine.”

“But you’ve not eaten anything, and we haven’t started the depositions.” She cried and he clearly heard the desperation in her voice that determined him further. He rose, reaching for his cloak in one swift motion, donning and fastening it, before she’s had a chance to draw breath.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Catherine. Don’t worry about the basket, someone will collect it in the morning, just leave it outside the door.”

“Vincent!”

Her sharp tone startled him, and he hesitated as he reached for the handle of the door leading to the balcony.

“Don’t go Vincent, please.”

“I have to go. Catherine, don’t you see what is happening here?” Of course she saw it he knew that. Most of it had been instigated by her feelings toward him.

Even so her reply surprised him, “Yes, of course I can see it and I’ve had enough of pussyfooting around you. Why don’t you just admit it, Vincent? You need me as badly as I need you the only thing is, you’re too hung up about yourself to do anything about it. Well not so with me!”
Like a frightened rabbit seeing the approach of car headlights Vincent watched her advancement on him, amazed at the speed with which she reached his side, and then seemed to relent. He felt it the moment when she made the decision not to do whatever it had been she’d had in mind, and that fear that had so recently coursed through him, became bitter disappointment, which in turn frightened him afresh.

“Don’t forget the diary Vincent.” He took the ledger from her hand and then with a mumbled reply that he would never remember, he left her watching him alight over the wall up to the roof, where he would take the elevator down to the ground floor, travelling not on its inside but rather on the out. A dangerous way to travel, he knew, but some risks were worth taking. Only not this night, no…those kinds of thoughts that Catherine had toward him were risks he dare not take. Not now, not ever.
Yet a heavy heart accompanied him all the way home, and it was hours before he could find any respite from his musings. Feeling Catherine’s emotions did not help either. He knew she had not eaten a thing after he had left, had in all probability stowed the food away in its cartons and placed it in the refrigerator. That made him feel bad too, at least he should have stayed long enough to see that she had eaten something.

Sitting head in hands Vincent stared ahead thinking about his relationship with Catherine. He knew that they had reached a crossroads. Three years together had brought them closer than a heartbeat, yet for all of that no closer than a brother and a sister. He knew Catherine needed more, and if he was honest with himself, he knew he needed more from her too. That was the most frightening thing of all, admitting to that need of her. Admitting that he wanted her in ways lovers wanted each other. It terrified yet excited him at the same time, yet he had to be sure, and tonight Catherine had almost made it plain, until she had changed her mind at the last minute. If only he knew, knew for a certainty that she wanted him. She had said she needed him, well need and want were alike yet could so easily be misconstrued. And though she had maintained that she had pussyfooted around him, hadn’t he done likewise? He’d been so intent on talking it through with her this evening, but his courage had failed him at the last. What if he were wrong? What if her need of him didn’t go as far as wanting him the way he wanted her? How could he find out? Though her emotions and thoughts via their connection told him so much, there were things that he might be missing, or things that he might be making an addition to. If only he knew where to start, or how to bring the subject up without making a hash of it.

Reaching for his pen and his journal intent on writing down his feelings to help him analyse them more clearly, he noticed the ledger he had placed upon his desk upon his return and now pulled the burgundy coloured book toward him. The gilt edging was subjected to a loving caress by his long fingers before he opened it at the first few entries that Catherine had made, as if he hoped to glean something from the things she had written there. As she had maintained most of what she had written made no sense to him. Work things no doubt, but there was something that caught his eye, and as he turned the pages he noticed with disbelief that the same thing occurred on each page. Simply, in beautiful calligraphy Catherine had written V&C, entwining the two letters on some pages like some lover’s caress.
And in stark contrast to the rest of the entries too. Vincent could not understand why she had written his and her initials in such a public place. If she had kept this diary at her office for a while, surely it would spark interest in anyone that could see it written there?
Flipping over the pages, he found the same V&C entered daily, though some with the addition of the word ‘still’ either before or after the letters. That too mystified him. V&C still. Still V&C. Yet it was the last entry that chilled his blood.

Had Catherine intended him to see this last entry, he wondered as he read it over and over? Had that been why she had given him the ledger? Was she trying to tell him something? If not why had it not been in the usual code as previous pages had been?

He stared down at the inscription trying to understand what it meant, his heart hammering wildly as he thought of and dismissed a hundred things.
Fear coursed through him as he realised he would have to ask her what it meant and then dreaded that he should, fearful of her answer.

What could he do now? How could he live without her? They were caught, so it seemed between the devil and the deep blue sea and Vincent hadn’t the foggiest idea of how to get them out of it.

Her words burned in his brain, even after he lay down the ledger, and even when his body forced him to close his tired eyes and rest he could still see them branded at the back of his eyelids.

Surely she couldn’t mean enough was enough, surely? Yet he had seen it there with his own eyes…

Suddenly he jumped up racing to the diary to check the date on the page of that last terrible entry…his heart hammering wildly fit to burst from his chest as he checked the date alongside his calendar… and double checked again. The entry had been made only yesterday…only yesterday! Enough with him had been enough…oh no and tonight he had walked out on her yet again…

Head in hands Vincent groaned…as the words hammered through his head over and over again… enough is enough is enough is enough…until only the sound of his thunderous roaring could drown out the treacherous unbelievable words galloping through his mind...

‘Enough is enough is enough, I can’t go on, I can’t go on much longer…enough is enough, I want him out, I want him out that door now…’

It was sod’s or Murphy’s law that Vincent should choose that particular moment to alight upon Catherine’s balcony, to find her showering with the radio on full blast and singing along at the top of her voice. That coupled with the remnants of the entries in her recent gift to him shocked Vincent to the core.

He stood hand to heart listening as she sang heartily unaware that she had an audience, and each word stabbed him through over and over.

‘…I always dreamed I’d found the perfect lover, but he turned out to be like any other man I’ve loved, I’ve loved, I’ve loved, I’ve loved…enough is enough is enough…’

He couldn’t face her…not now. Swinging his long cloak around his ankles Vincent left swiftly leaving no sign of his coming before Catherine emerged from the shower shortly before the end of the song.

‘That’s a great song you have there Donna,’ Catherine commented, as she went to lower the volume on the radio, ‘but the lyrics don’t apply to me as much as I enjoyed singing along with you.’

Catherine grinned, she would never have enough of her man, and she had found the perfect lover…well almost…they weren’t lovers as yet…but…it was only a question of time…surely something had to give?

She grinned impishly, ‘that was devious of you Chandler’ she giggled out loud, ‘giving him that diary with all those V&C entries in. Give him food for thought maybe. I wonder what he thought to the last entry?’ She almost regretted that…almost. When she remembered all the times she had blatantly tried to seduce him and failed Catherine decided he deserved it.

‘Any other hot bloodied male would have succumbed to my flirtatious ways by now…so Vincent you deserve to be taunted if only subtly. No doubt Mr Prim and Proper will be running ragged by now, if he’s read that last entry.’ Catherine wished she were a fly on the wall of his chamber, or a little beetle in a corner so that she could see his face when he read it.

‘You are so cruel, Cathy’ she told herself laughing out loud, not believing it one bit. Vincent infuriated her at times. Father had done his job too well, and Vincent firmly believed Father when he told him that intimate relationships were not for him.

Like an indignant mare Catherine stamped one pretty satin slipper to the floor, ‘not meant for him my foot! Vincent is more than a man not less, why shouldn’t he love as any other? Well I’ll show you Mr Smartypants Father, I’m gonna get your son into bed if it’s the last thing I ever accomplish.’ She laughed heartily imagining that possibility, imagining being so tired from trying that when she did eventually make it happen she’d fall asleep with the exhaustion of it.

Today she was reckless. Over three years of shifting around Vincent, pussyfooting to make things easier for him she was at about snapping point. If flirting didn’t do it, if seduction didn’t do it, if downright boldness didn’t do it, then maybe she should have some fun, and if leaving him subtle messages brought him to his knees then so be it.

A solicitous smile formed on Catherine’s luscious red lips as she imagined the days to come. It was a wonder that Vincent hadn’t arrived already. Catherine paused for thought. Yes it was a wonder indeed. She checked her watch usually he would have been on her balcony by now. That was strange.
No matter she would go to him.
‘Pity I haven’t got a copy of Donna Summer’s record to play to him.’ Catherine laughed, ‘that would really put the icing on the cake.’ She giggled, making her way toward her bedroom to change into gear fit for the draughty tunnels, smiling and humming to herself as she went… ‘enough is enough is enough…I can’t go on, I can’t go on no longer…’

Below in the tunnels Vincent walked slowly, absorbing what had taken place on Catherine’s balcony, and chiding himself for putting more meaning than was supposed on the song she had been singing. It was on the radio for heaven’s sake, not from her CD unit. He knew from the location of the sound, that it wasn’t a tune she had chosen to play herself, it just grated on him when he remembered the vigour she had applied to singing along to it. Yet it had to be a coincidence, a remarkable one true, but a coincidence nonetheless. How would she know that a song depicting the lyrics ‘enough is enough’ would play at the very moment he would arrive at her balcony and the very next day after she had handed him the ledger? If anyone had the answer to that, they’d be millionaires. In fact he was pretty sure that she had not known of his visit, and even surer of that fact when he felt her make the decision to come to him. Obviously his late arrival had caused some concern and she had gone looking for him.

But what could he say to her? Father, for one, knew he had set off for her apartment over an hour ago. How could he tell her he had called and not stayed, or how could he pretend he had not called at all? What possible explanation could he give to her for returning home?
There wasn’t one. Simply, if he wanted to make amends and not have to explain himself he had to do a quick turnabout and meet her half way. Let her believe he was just setting out, let Father assume he’d been delayed on the way up. Hopefully Father would say nothing, would not question him, for Vincent felt certain that if he should be challenged on the matter he would surely redden and stammer and give rise for concern and he would have to tell all.
Truly Vincent was a man that made mountains out of molehills, when anyone else would have let it go by as inconsequential. May even have lied. But Vincent had never been a good liar and he had never lied to Catherine.
Covered up maybe, but certainly never lied. There were things he knew that he could never tell her. Things he would love to be able to do with her. Vincent’s blood pounded in his ears as he thought briefly of those things and he blushed hotly, grateful that no one was around to see. Few knew that he blushed, and more often than not the soft glow from the candles disguised it, he was pleased to say.

When he thought back to the previous evening he was even more embarrassed. He had wanted to talk to Catherine, but his courage had failed him at the last moment, and now this. What ever was he going to do about this?

His and her initials entwined had been a delight to see, but the addition of the words ‘enough is enough’ seemed about all he could remember. Why oh why had she written it, and what had she meant.

Despite telling himself he ought not, Vincent found himself dwelling on that song blasting from her radio and the way she had sung along with such gusto. He considered that to be the most infuriating thing. Was it really a coincidence? Or if it had of been was she amazed at its representation and had applied herself zealously? Supposing she really meant it. Supposing she really did think that enough was enough and that she did want him out of her life?

No…Vincent shook his head. Why on earth would she want that? ‘Because…’ a little voice of reason quipped deep inside… ‘you disappoint her. You don’t give her what she needs…be honest with yourself Vincent. It’s what you both need. Give in to her man…’

‘I can’t I can’t.’ Vincent shook his head adamantly ‘she is too beautiful. How can these hands sully her perfection?’

‘You place her on a pedestal, put too much import on her beauty. She is a woman with much to give, see how she dreams of giving it all to you.’

Walking back toward the park entrance, Vincent argued with himself, or that other darker side of himself, the one he blamed for all his wrong thoughts, the one that he thought desired Catherine when all along he knew it to be him. Yet being honest with himself brought great fear to Vincent, fear he could not cope with, neither could he accept that Catherine was in her right mind when she had romantic dreams of the two of them together so intimately. She based upon him all her experiences with other men when she hadn’t come to accept that he was not as other men. Though they loved one another, love was all that they could share, and the only love they would make between them was by being there for one another come what may.

Catherine was close now, Vincent knew, only a few feet separated them, and he was already at a loss as to what to say to her. The saying, oh but would the ground open up and swallow me seemed awfully appealing to him, for to disappear at that moment would have been exactly what he needed.
Yet as ever Vincent put the needs of others ahead of himself, and if he knew little else this night, Catherine’s need for him thundered through his soul.

Suddenly Catherine’s joy at seeing him again brought him to his senses and Vincent realised how stupid he was being. This was Catherine he was meeting not his maker, whomsoever that was, he should be overjoyed to see her. And he was, if he put aside other things. He decided for the sake of his sanity he would have to do just that. He could ponder further on those other things tomorrow while Catherine was safely at work, and he may be able to glean something else from her visit tonight.

With that thought firmly in mind Vincent sprung the mechanism to open the large sliding door, and prepared to enfold Catherine in his arms.

“Hi Vincent. Are you well?” Catherine greeted her man the moment the door slid open to reveal him to her sight. He looked slightly disarmed for some reason, as if she had caught him unawares, which was stupid because he had opened the door for her. And she was certain she didn’t imagine that he hesitated before replying, “Yes, Catherine, I am well and you?”
There was a kind of haughtiness to his question, and Catherine found herself watching him strangely expecting him to add something more on the subject and frowning when he did not.
“Come, Father will be pleased to see you.” He told her. That surprised Catherine, because Vincent made no mention to the fact that he was supposed to be coming up to see her. Instead he made it sound that she was supposed to be coming below and was expected.
Catherine didn’t know whether to make mention of the fact or let it go. It was unusual for Vincent to forget where they should be meeting and when or not to enquire of her decision to come to him instead. And so she began to wonder whether she had made a mistake, perhaps she had arranged to meet him below after all?
She let it go, linking her arm with his as they walked the tunnels together heading for the main hub and though neither noticed both were quiet lost in their own thoughts. And when Vincent led Catherine straight past Father’s chamber only then did she hesitate and ask, “Vincent, I thought we were going to see Father?”
“Father? No.” Vincent sounded surprised. That was the last thing he wanted. Father would wonder why Catherine had come below when Vincent was due to go above.
“But you said…” Catherine frowned. She must be going mad. She was sure it had been tonight when Vincent had said that Father would be pleased to see her. Maybe it had been another night?
Feeling as though she was going crazy Catherine allowed Vincent to steer her into his own chamber and took up a cosy chair within before she spoke again. “Are you all right Vincent?”
“Me? Yes. I’m fine why do you ask?” He couldn’t look at her as he replied something Catherine was quick to notice.
“You seem distracted, not quite yourself.” Catherine told him her concern evident in her tone.
Not quite knowing how to answer, Vincent remained silent for a while as Catherine watched him closely. She hadn’t imagined it then, there was something wrong with him tonight. But what she couldn’t tell, and it didn’t look as though he was about to tell her either, so rather than embarrass him further Catherine rose and told him, “Perhaps you are tired? I am too perhaps I should go. Will I see you tomorrow?” And she was amazed when Vincent nodded all too quickly and it seemed to her he uttered a great sigh of relief.
What on earth was wrong?

They walked slowly again arm in arm back toward the threshold of her apartment building rather than back to the park entrance as it was so late and said little. Catherine had butterflies in her stomach Vincent had fear in his. Each assumed wrongly the reason for the other’s silence and it was only when they reached their destination that both decided to speak at once.

“Catherine…”

“Vincent…”

Catherine smiled, “You first.” But Vincent shook his head, unable to prevent himself from grinning when she told him, “Go on, age before beauty,” with a sweet chuckle.
“I’m not that much older than you Catherine.” He told her. It was on the tip of his tongue to say something entirely different, something detrimental about himself, but he felt sure that Catherine would not approve of that.
“Sometimes you seem it, Vincent. Sometimes the difference though minimal seems to be a barrier too great to breach.” He was surprised at that and told her so. “I’m sorry that you find it hard to reach me, Catherine.”
“It’s not that. Its not that I can’t reach you, its just that sometimes you appear hard to be reached. There are things that I would love to say to you that I fear you would not want to hear.” The moment she uttered the words, both were aware that he retreated back into his safe little world behind the bars of his own making. “You’re doing it now. What are you so afraid of Vincent? Don’t you know by now that I love you?”
Shyly Vincent nodded. He knew she loved him Catherine had never disguised that fact. And he loved her too, but he could not let her know of it, or could he? What would be so wrong, so bad about disclosing that fact? Before he had the time to prevent himself Vincent told Catherine, “I know that you love me Catherine, and I love you…” He had meant to gallop over that fact, had meant to continue with something else, as if saying the words for the very first time were inconsequential, but the moment they left his lips he was silenced, the gasp uttered from Catherine making it so. And he was speechless.
“You love me!”
She’d always known it of course, but knowing and hearing were two different things and how long she had ached to hear him say the words. “Oh Vincent!” She hugged him then wrapping her arms tightly around his waist pressing her cheek against his chest. This is what he had been so afraid of. Instigating intimacy between them through the utterance of his love for her, it changed everything, would have to change everything there was no reason now for them not to be united in everything.
Vincent balked as the very thought presented itself…now she knew that he loved her, why could they not move forward as all those that loved moved forward? He had no answers for her.
It was also all a little strange. Baring in mind the letters entwined in her diary, and the words enough is enough…Vincent was a little at a loss as to the turnabout of events now. Had everything been harbouring on his declaring his love for her? Had that been all it was about? If so, then the relief was palpable. And how he had wished he had told her that he loved her far sooner, if that had been all that had been needed. Perhaps in withholding his love for her he had been pushing her away. Yet in so doing had he not been keeping her at arms length? What now? What would she expect of him now?
The answer was plain to see in the upturned face that appealed to his now. Vincent flushed hotly as her eyes seemed to devour his lips, and he gulped knowing what her intention was. She wanted him to kiss her! It was so obvious! And why not? Why should they not kiss? After all if they loved one another what was so wrong with a kiss?
Still he shook. Kissing was one thing, but could he rightfully stop at that? Knowing how he felt about her, Vincent doubted the possibility, and what would Catherine do if he found that he needed more from her? Would she push him away in disgust? Just how far did her love for him go?

“Vincent?” He heard the question through a haze of fog, “What’s wrong my love?”
Never had she called him that! A trembling started in Vincent’s toes creeping up and up until it swamped him and he found himself wanting so desperately to lose himself in her to let her surround him with her love and words of tenderness.
There was nothing wrong, and everything wrong and the feelings rising up inside him were desperate with need and longing. Her expectation of his kiss frightened him. He wanted to run but found himself frozen to the spot. He wanted to hide but knew he could never hide from Catherine. In fact, he knew he could hide nothing from Catherine forever more!
“I love you, Catherine.” The words seemed to burst from him and he reached for her, drawing her close, absorbing her into him as his lips sought hers.
Stunned Catherine could only let him take control. She had not imagined this! In all her dreams of their first kiss it had been she that had shown him the way, she that had instigated the act between them. Still after that initial shock subsided and it did not seem in the least likelihood that Vincent would draw away, Catherine returned his kiss with a ardour that surprised the both of them. They clung to one another, their mouths fastened as one, tasting, absorbing one into the other, thoroughly enjoying every single second, wanting more and more until tongues tasted tongues and bodies fused closer than a heartbeat. Catherine had craved this from him so long, and he like a dying man at an oasis slaked his thirst for her in long deep draughts. Yet it wasn’t enough, could never be enough not now, not until they had fulfilled the act of complete loving. “Come.” The word was uttered hoarsely and Catherine allowed him to turn her back into the tunnels, to lift and carry her to a destination only he had in mind. She was ready for anything, ready to give him everything. How she loved him!

Curious eyes watched their ascent into the tunnels as they passed by the stationed sentries, never had they seen such a sight! Catherine held tightly against Vincent, kisses snatched second by second, eyes only for each other, both oblivious to their surroundings, both totally, totally in love. Warm feelings spread through the tunnellers at the sight of their favourite couple finding true love at last. No one encountered them, no one stood in their way. Each wished them well in their own heart as they passed by, each wished for a love like that shared by Vincent and Catherine.

Catherine knew not where she was going, neither did she care - she had unleashed the gates of heaven and was about to convey all that she felt for this special man in its paradise. That he loved her as she had so dreamed was all Catherine now hoped for. Her heart was complete as he slaked his thirst with her, a hunger building deep in his soul that only she could satisfy.

Refraining from speaking lest she broke the spell, Catherine continued to kiss and adore her man as he carried her swiftly along and yet all too soon she found herself being deposited onto a mossy knoll in a cavern that she had never seen before, yet one where lanterns were positioned ready for lighting, and cushions were thrown about. Still she refrained from speaking, just looked around her with questions in her eyes that would be answered later and watched mesmerised as Vincent moved about the chamber somewhat awkwardly lighting a lamp here and a lamp there that issued enough of a warm orange glow to be romantic but not too bright. Then he returned to her, undoing his cloak and lying it down on the ground at her side, beckoning that she should lie upon it, before following her down.
They kissed again, deeply, passionately letting go all the chains of restraint that had ever been between them, and Catherine glorified in the way Vincent’s hands tugged at her clothing eager to feel her soft skin against his fingertips and palms. When one hand cupped her full round bosom, both uttered a sigh of pure bliss and with his thumb nestled against the rosy tip Catherine’s hips bucked to meet his, the invitation plain.
He took it. Unfastening and discarding the restraints that kept them apart, both were soon gloriously naked and joined in an instant that neither would ever forget. It was too beautiful, too glorious…too unbelievable!

It was only later when the heat that had consumed them had subsided that both looked at each other a little shy, a little embarrassed. “Did I really just do that?” There was a catch to Vincent’s voice as if he was about to cry, and yet as if he couldn’t quite believe what had taken place between them.
Catherine nodded, her eyes bright with joy and unshed tears “You did, my love and you can do it again anytime that you want.” Vincent blushed hotly and Catherine actually saw it, a deep rich red that enhanced the golden hair of his cheeks.
“I mean it Vincent. It was wonderful. You are wonderful. I love you so much.”
A catch came to Vincent’s throat as he tried to answer her, and nothing would come. Wordlessly he enfolded her into his embrace, the claws of his hands gently tracing circles on the bare of her back, causing delicious shivers to course through her tiny frame. “Careful my love, do that much more and I shall want you again.”
Vincent chuckled at her words, bending and kissing her lips with an ease that surprised her.
“How did I ever survive without the touch of your lips against mine.” He whispered into her mouth. “I love you so much, Catherine.”
“And I love you.” She hugged him tightly pressing her lower limbs against his telling him plainly what she needed from him so soon. He complied needing her with an intensity that frightened him, taking her to new heights such as she had never known with any other man before and for the next few hours only the words “I love you, I love you,” were whispered between them with such sweet and tender devotion.

When Catherine awoke the following morning she had no idea how she had got back into her own bed inside her own apartment, and as the memories of the evening before rushed over her, a feeling of nausea rose up within her as she felt positive that she had dreamed the whole affair.

Down in the subterranean levels, her feelings washed over Vincent like a tidal wave and he sobbed heartily. He had been so afraid of this. So afraid that in the cold light of day the loving he and Catherine had shared would become bitter to her. That the womanly needs that she had had for sexual satisfaction were abhorrent to her when she realised that she had shared them with him!

Walking about in her apartment a sense of unreality struck Catherine, unreality mixed with sorrow. It had seemed so real, yet had it of been so, what was she doing here back in her apartment? Why had she not woken up alongside Vincent in that chamber deep in the underground world?

Slowly as she pieced the sequence of events together over a piping hot cup of coffee Catherine began to remember how she had woken inside her own apartment. After making love for the fifth time in every position possible Vincent had carried her drowsy form back to the threshold and she had wearily climbed the steps back to her world falling into her bed the moment she had reached its side, and not waking up again until late morning. It was amazing that she had forgotten it, but then in the circumstances perhaps not so amazing. A hot flush stained Catherine’s cheeks as she remembered all the things she and Vincent had done together and how each had amazed the other over and over again with new delights and sensations. Never had she been loved with such intensity and within an inch of her life. Still her skin tingled from his kisses, his hands upon her the force from his passion that had ignited and engulfed her. How she loved him!

Eager now to see him again, Catherine made her plans. A day at work was unavoidable, Joe would throw a fit, might even throw her out if she rang in for another day off. He had already given her two days, she could not expect more. But tonight after work was a different thing entirely, and tonight Vincent would come early if she asked him to. So hastily scribbling him a note as she readied herself for work, Catherine placed it in a long slim envelope with the intention of having it delivered by a helper before she made it to her office.

The telephone rang just as she was leaving and snatching it up Catherine refrained from blasting the caller that would make her late for work. It was Peter, “Hello young lady, it’s a while since you had a check up. I’ve booked you in for Saturday morning. Is that convenient, say around ten?”

“That’s fine Peter. I’ll make a note of it. Gotta dash, I’m late.”
“I know, I was surprised to catch you, I thought it would be the machine.”
Catherine chuckled said her goodbyes and hung up reaching for her diary to make the entry. ‘Saturday, ten, Peter’s.’ she wrote, then as an afterthought she made another addition to yesterday’s entry, ‘V & C no more.’ Then she left laughing as she went her heart uplifted and proud that she and Vincent were lovers at last and envisioning a great future ahead with the man that she loved above all else.