THE REST OF THEIR LIVES II

By Ginny Shearin

Now that she had a wedding to plan, Catherine didn't have as much time as she had expected to work on a safer way to share her world with Vincent. The wedding had a date and a location. Everything else could wait a week or two. First things first, she thought. She had consulted with Kanin and Cullen, who had spoken with a few others, and they seemed to think her plan should work. She had copied lists of helpers and their businesses from Father's master list and set about organizing things into a workable scheme. There was a lot of planning left to do, but she felt confident that she could approach Father with at least an outline. Peter was on his way to her apartment, and she intended to try the idea out on him before she let him escape that evening.

Her father's penthouse apartment was now hers. After his death, she was surprised to find that he had also bought the two large apartments on the floor below him as well as three old buildings in a part of town that had no connection to anything she imagined a corporate lawyer would have an interest in. She already owned her own apartment free and clear and now also owned the vacation house in Connecticut. Balances on anything her father didn't own outright had been covered by insurance. Aside from those assets and what she received from the law firm, there were her father's investments. Early in his career, Charles Chandler had invested his money with a man about his own age, who had been consistently successful, and it was rare that an investment hadn't been profitable.

Catherine had already been an extremely wealthy woman in her own right. Her mother had left her a large trust, a substantial amount of which remained untouched. Some of her earnings as a corporate attorney had gone into investments with her father's financial expert, and those had also done quite well. She no longer traveled or went on the frequent wild shopping binges she used to indulge in. Now that she had no need for that kind of financial abundance in her life, she had suddenly moved from extremely wealthy to unreasonably rich.

Her father was the last remaining member of her family. There were no aunts, uncles, or cousins. She had been an only child, and the estate had recently been settled. Now she needed plans; but with Vincent's illness and trying to catch up at work, her life since her father died had left her precious little time for planning. Peter was on his way to her apartment for a brief visit and she hoped he might have answers for some of her questions.

The doorbell rang and she met Peter at the door with a kiss on the cheek and a mug of his favorite coffee.

"First I have a favor to ask," she told him energetically, "and then I have questions."

"May I sit down first," he teased, taking the mug from her and enjoying a sip.

"I'm sorry, Peter. My mind is running ahead of my explanations. There are so many things going on at the same time." She sat down on the sofa beside him.

"Start with the favor. What can I do for you?" he asked, taking one more sip before putting the coffee on the table and turning to face her.

"Vincent and I are going to be married, and I'd like you to take Daddy's place and give me away at the wedding."

Peter gave her a big hug. "I'm so happy for both of you. So you finally cornered him, huh!"

Catherine swatted his arm. "I'll have you know it was his idea, and he planned a very romantic evening to ask me. He's a constant source of surprise. He actually designed this...But I'll let him tell you that story," she told him, holding out her hand to show off the ring. "Now do you intend to walk me down the aisle or not?"

"I would be honored."

"We're planning on the day after Thanksgiving."

"Now, what kind of questions did you have? I can't stay as long as I intended. I have to check in on one of my patients -- a minor unexpected complication," he said, taking another sip of his coffee.

"There are three buildings here," she said, pulling herself back to the work at hand, and showing him an area on a map. "I have no idea why Daddy would have bought them. I drove by and looked at them today, and there isn't anything there that looks like a reasonable business interest. In the year before he died I know the two of you spent more time together than you had in a long time. Did he say anything to you about plans for these places?"

"Cathy, your father was a good man. He was always generous, but with a corporate lawyer's eye to tax benefits. You know that. He taught you. In the last couple of years, seeing the change in your life, he began to rethink his own; and his natural generosity became less a tax advantage and more a desire to make a difference. Those buildings were going to be well constructed, attractive, low cost housing - something sorely needed in that neighborhood. I was guiding him toward helpers who could do the architectural planning and the construction. He certainly had the expertise and contacts to handle everything else. Another few months and I would have talked to Jacob about allowing him into the tunnels - and meeting Vincent. Charles would have needed some time to adjust to the idea, but seeing the you and Vincent together... He would have learned to be happy for you. I know he would."

Tears misted Catherine's eyes at the thought that she could have shared everything with her father.

"I miss him so much. I can't believe he was so close to knowing everything. Somehow I think he knows now and that I have his blessings, but it would have been nice to know for sure." She put her head on his shoulder, and he held her the way her father would have.

"He was very proud of you. He missed you at the law firm, but he was always telling people about his daughter and how she had already made more of a contribution to the world than he ever had."

"I suppose I should follow up on his plans, shouldn't I?"

"I think he would like that."

"Would you guide me to some of those helpers? I have plans for his apartment, too. This apartment is just the right size for me, but after seeing Vincent in it while he was sick, I know he wouldn't be comfortable for long with either the furniture or the space. He puts himself in danger every time he comes here, and I've come as close to losing him as I ever want to. Daddy's apartment is much larger, so I can replace some of the furniture with things that will fit Vincent. I want to remodel a few things, and put in a state of the art security system. I think I can get him there more safely. When we're married, that can be our space - our alone time. There isn't much of that in the tunnels. I've scheduled a meeting next week to clear the remodeling with the building's owners' association."

"How does Vincent feel about this?" Peter asked.

"I haven't told him anything specific yet. I was trying to put a few more of the plans in place first. I wanted to know it could work before I mentioned it to him. What do you think? If I can make it safe for him to reach the apartment and put together enough security for him to be safe while he's in it, would Father forgive me for stealing him away now and then?

"If you can convince him it would be safe, I think he might," Peter smiled after mulling it over briefly. "Jacob seems to have mellowed a little recently," he added with a hint of amusement. "What do you have in mind?" She had piqued his curiosity.

"I spoke to Kanin and Cullen a few weekends ago," she answered, launching herself excitedly into telling him her plans, "and they took a small crew to check under Daddy's apartment building. They said a new threshold shouldn't be a problem."

"Daddy's apartment has a large, private elevator that he rarely used. I want to add a few features to the elevator and the shaft that will make it safe for Vincent under any conceivable circumstance. I'll make the entrance to the elevator's lobby door more secure and work out an access for Vincent from the basement. He'll be able to get here much more safely."

"Cullen also had a crew looking at the possibility of adding a second elevator a level below the basement, one that would take us closer to the central part of the tunnels. Neither Vincent nor I are getting any younger, and it would make it easier for the older folks to go Above now and then. Cullen and Kanin said the crew thought it might be possible, that it looked less daunting than they expected when I first mentioned it to them. I'm sure they thought I was crazy. They said I they probably couldn't have found a better place for what I want to do. One of the helpers owns a company that installs and services elevators, and I plan to see him tomorrow. Another helper plans security systems for major corporations. Surely they could make an apartment safe. There are helpers who are plumbers and carpenters, and... But you know that, don't you?"

Catherine had to stop for a breath. Her words were tumbling over one another so quickly that Peter had to laugh at her excitement. It reminded him of the way she and his daughter, Susan, sounded when they were children, and he allowed himself a few pleasant memories from those times. Suddenly Catherine's voice brought him back to reality.

"And on top of all this," she said, catching her breath and indicating all the financial statements, notes and sketchy remodeling plans on the table in front of them, "I have a wedding to plan."

"And you think you can work full time, spend weekends Below, and accomplish all this by Thanksgiving?" Peter asked incredulously. Seeing that Catherine had that Moses-at-the-Red-Sea look on her face again, he laughed. "Well, if anybody can, it's probably Cathy Chandler," he said giving her a fatherly hug.

"Peter, it's so nice to have someone in my world to talk to without having to keep secrets. Thank you for listening to me ramble. My plans are so dependent on finding the right people to do the work that has to accommodate Vincent, and I have to be so careful to see that I'm not compromising anything about his world... Will you help me when I start to have doubts?"

"Just call," he assured her.

She hugged him the way she did when she was a little girl, all love and enthusiasm; and he left smiling, knowing there was someone committed to loving her and watching over her when he no longer could.

Catherine was grateful that the case Joe had given her had been as cut and dried as he thought. The emergency assignment had kept her from Vincent the weekend before, and she was relieved to find that it moved smoothly and closed quickly. She actually had a few evenings for herself.

She called Peter and asked if he would go with her to look at two of three buildings her father had bought. She wanted to walk through each one and see what was there, but she didn't want to go alone. If she ran into any kind of trouble, she didn't want Vincent running to her defense again. He looked and acted as if he had completely recovered, but she saw no need to push their luck. Remembering that he had worked with youth in that neighborhood at one time, she decided to call Isaac, too. Maybe he would have time to meet them there. He would probably have some valuable insights into the nature and needs of the neighborhood. As a bonus, she would feel safer and Vincent wouldn't worry.

On Wednesday night she went to her father's apartment and looked around more carefully than she had the last time she had been there, taking stock of changes she might need to make. She had sorted through everything that could have a bearing on the settlement of the estate, but she still hadn't gone through all of his personal things. She had put it off because it was such a sad, final thing to do, then Vincent was ill, then work took over... If she intended to follow through with her plans for the apartment, that job had to be done.

Both Peter and Isaac agreed to meet her on Thursday; and the three of them walked through each building, pointing out problems and possibilities as Catherine took notes. As she expected, Isaac had some understandings of the neighborhood that would be valuable in her planning, and he offered his help if she needed it.

After consulting Father's helper list, she had arranged for someone to look at the elevator in her father's apartment on Friday and to meet with her early Friday evening. She had spoken to someone else about a very comprehensive security system. He was to pick up a key on Monday and visit the apartment to assess what would be needed. She felt better. She was making progress toward a new life that allowed Vincent both easier and safer access to her world.

Catherine made separate folders for her father's apartment and each of the three buildings she had plans for. Each night that week she carefully divided any new notes, questions, ideas, etc. about each one into the appropriate folder and arranged the information in the best order she could manage at the present stage of planning.

She was disappointed when she received word from Vincent that an emergency would keep him from meeting her on Friday night; but she put the time to good use. She gathered the things she intended to present to Father and Vincent, and for a change, went to bed early enough to get a good night's sleep. She would go Below early the next morning and have breakfast with Vincent.

Catherine arrived in the tunnels on Saturday morning, having sent a message ahead of time asking to see Father. Since Vincent wasn't available for breakfast, she had breakfast with the others in the dining hall before Father escorted her to his chamber to talk.

She was glad she had Father to herself to broach the subject she came to talk about.

"Father, I'm about to be part of your family, and everyone here shares whatever they have, isn't that right?"

"Yes, they have the right to keep their own things; but when real need arises, we share. If you're about to offer to spend money on us again, please don't. You live Above. You've already been more than generous, and you need to think of yourself."

"I have no desire to change the system you've cultivated so well with your helpers. It benefits both sides. You've created something wonderful, and I only want to add some of my assets," she assured him. "I don't think you fully understand the extent of what I have to offer."

"We all appreciate what you do for us," Father answered. "We've suspected that the recent increase in groceries and basic supplies has something to do with you, in spite of the fact that it came from other helpers. You're here to help in any crisis. You help with the children when you come to visit. We know that you're available for legal advice and helping with transitions from one world to the other. You give of yourself in enough ways already."

"But that isn't what I'm trying to tell you," she sighed. Not knowing what else to say to make her point, she simply handed him a folder containing a few papers. "These are the financial assets we can draw from."

"Really, Catherine, it isn't necessary for you to show me this. We have no need to delve into your finances. It's enough that you want to share with us," he said as he pushed the folder back in her direction.

"Read it," she insisted, pushing it back. "I want to share it with my world, too. There are people there who need more of what this world provides, and I have resources to help provide it; but I want to start here. I need you to understand what can be available for the things this community needs and can't afford. Read!" She emphasized her determination by giving the folder another gentle push in Father's direction.

To humor her, Father adjusted his spectacles, took the papers from the folder and began to read. With each line and each page he became more aghast at what he saw.

"Catherine?" he finally stammered, collapsing back against his chair and removing his glasses. "The newspapers called you an heiress, indicated you were wealthy, but this..." He swept his spectacles in a small arc across the page. "All of this belongs to you?"

"Disgusting, isn't it?" she answered. "I had more than I needed before, but Daddy left me much more than I realized he had. All this for one woman when so many need so much. I used to take this sort of thing for granted. I grew up with it. Now it's a little embarrassing."

"A lot of people would love to be this embarrassed," Father chortled nervously, still shaken at what he had just fully realized. "Is Vincent aware of the...extent of your assets?"

"No. It never came up as important. Do we have to tell him?" she asked with a sheepish smile. Catherine had been so concerned about her talk with Father that she didn't detect Vincent's arrival.

"Do we have to tell him what?" Vincent asked from the doorway. He had caught only his name and "Do we have to tell him?" He was exhausted and dusty from his work, and he had intended to stop only long enough to see Catherine briefly before a bath and a change of clothes. "I thought we were to have no more secrets," he smiled.

Knowing that Father was aware of some of their "understandings" he indulged himself, bent and gave Catherine a quick kiss on the top of her head, then stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders. She moved her hand up to cover one of his.

"Catherine has just insisted on giving me an accounting of her financial assets. She finds it 'a little embarrassing'," Father smiled.

After seeing a reluctant nod of approval from Catherine, Father pushed the folder and the papers across the desk toward Vincent, who picked them up to read. Noticing the look on Father's face, he expected to see something surprising; but he was completely unprepared for what he saw. He reacted very much as Father had, dropping into a chair with one elbow resting on the chair arm and his hand at his forehead before he had finished reading.

"All of this belongs to you?" he finally asked in quiet awe.

"Guilty," she said, looking down.

"And you want to be here..."

"I want to be with you...wherever that takes me. You said you believe that now."

"You would turn your back on all that this could provide you...to be with me?"

"Without a minute's regret."

"Catherine..." Vincent said, shaking his head slightly as he stared at the papers in an appreciative, but dumbfounded state.

"I always hoped to find a man who wouldn't want to marry me just for my money," she answered with a hint of humor. Her head was still down, but she glanced up at him through her lashes, looking for his reaction. "Does the council need to know all this, Father?" she asked. "I don't think I want anyone else here to know."

"I think it might be better if they don't, given the episode with the ship and the treasure. Why did you feel that I needed to know this now, after all this time?"

"It's so much more than I had before. I'm about to be your daughter-in-law, so this will more officially be my home and family, too. I know there are bound to be expensive improvements you'd like to make but haven't been able to. Margaret left money you've decided to use for college for the children who want an education Above. I'd like to contribute to your everyday needs. Systems for electricity and running water and a few modern conveniences could make the work easier if you want that - not enough to change the nature of the tunnels, just enough to ease the work load. You could have better medical equipment. There could be an emergency fund for times when food or medical supplies are lower than usual, or a fund that would allow a standing supply of construction materials for jobs like the one our dusty friend here was doing this morning."

She paused briefly and glanced fondly at Vincent then took a deep breath and continued. "All the plans, all the decisions would come from the council. I would only provide the materials without imposing anything you don't want. Please let me help. All the council needs to know is that you received an anonymous gift to be used as they decide."

"I literally owe you my life. There's no way I can ever repay you for that...or for Vincent." She gave Father a winning smile. "You could consider it a dowry."

"Perhaps you should put this back in your briefcase and take it home with you. I'll need to give this some thought," he said, returning her smile as he took the papers from Vincent and handed them to her.

Catherine placed the folder in her briefcase and looked up at Vincent.

"Do you still plan to spend the afternoon with me?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered, temporarily reduced to very few words.

"Then clean up and walk to the falls with me. I'll find some reading material while you bathe."

"Clean up. Yes, I will," he echoed.

"I'll know when you're ready for me. I'll meet you in your chamber."

"In my chamber," he agreed as he touched her shoulder and left, still looking a little dazed.

Turning to Father again, Catherine pulled out more papers. Sketchy plans for her father's apartment and easy access for Vincent.

"Can you withstand some plans that include your son?" she asked him.

"Wedding plans?" Father asked, hoping for something more mundane.

"Wedding plans next time. This is more like living arrangements," she answered. "I intend to give up my job at the DA's office at the end of the year. I've already asked for less dangerous work, and I'll give Joe plenty of notice before I resign, but there are still reasons for me to keep an apartment above."

She handed Father the outline of her plans for her father's apartment and the elevators. Having spoken to the owners of both the elevator business and the security company, she had a few more details to work with. She had also included the opinions of the crew from Below.

"My father bought three buildings that aren't of much interest for business. Peter said he was going to turn them into good low-income housing. I'm planning to use one of them for that purpose. The other two are large, warehouse sized buildings across the street from one another. If I can manage it, one will be a children's home. I can't just keep snatching children like Eric and Ellie and bringing them here. The other building would be assisted living for the elderly; the ones who need help and can't afford it. The two could work well together - children and foster grandparents. It could be a service to both sides. From the planning and remodeling to the staffing it would provide jobs for helpers. The more helpers we pay, the more they can help you. I would want to be an active part of the work, which means spending time Above, especially at first."

"Knowing my reasons for spending time Above after we're married, would you forgive me for enticing your son there part time? Could you feel that he would be safe under these conditions?

Father looked over the plans as Catherine explained them in as much detail as she could presently manage and shook his head in astonishment as she finished.

"Catherine, this is too much to take in all in one day. Give me time to think. How have you had time to work and put all this together?"

"I haven't slept much," she laughed wryly. "I wanted to start work on this before I started planning a wedding."

"If you keep going at this pace Vincent will have to hold you up while you say your vows," he chuckled. "Have you shown these plans to Vincent?"

"Not yet. I wanted to be sure they could be workable first. I want your opinions - and your blessings. So far nobody has discouraged me."

"Maybe it would be best to wait until next weekend. Let us both recover from his fiance's financial status first," Father answered.

"He's waiting for me. I'll go and talk to him," Catherine said, and patted Father's hand when she reached to retrieve the folder from his desk. She then left, looking forward to the sight of a damp, but very appealing Vincent waiting for her next door.

Father was accustomed to the look on his son's face when Vincent felt emotions from Catherine. He wondered how long it would take to become used to seeing the same expression on Catherine's face now that the bond was working in the other direction, too. Vincent said it wasn't as strong on her side, but definitely there. He just smiled and shook his head, knowing he would never fully understand. He would simply enjoy knowing that it made the young couple happy and gave them a feeling of security after all they had been through in the past couple of years.

Vincent stood near his bed drying his arms and chest, wearing only the knit pants that served as pajamas, several dry towels draped across a chair. Catherine picked up a towel and looked up at him with a suggestive smile.

"Where would you like me to start?" she asked.

"Anywhere you'd like," he answered returning her smile in kind, "but, if you plan to reach the falls you should probably make conservative choices"

"Spoilsport," she said with a little pout then smiled, started with the ends of his hair and moved to his back.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he asked as he dried.

"I don't think so. Maybe after we were married and you couldn't get rid of me. My money never mattered to you except when you thought I was using too much of it for your world...and I guess I thought it would just give you another chance to think you were depriving me of something. Then you would have tried again to send me back to where I came from."

"You really felt you had to be that careful?" he asked, stopping the towel in its track.

"I was always afraid I'd do or say something that would set off your altruistic nature, something that would convince you I should have a life that didn't include you. It was exasperating and it hurt...but I do understand that you had the best of intentions." She put her arms around his waist from behind and gave him a quick squeeze, pressing her face against the now only slightly damp hair on his back. "You wouldn't ever consider that again, would you?"

He turned and put his arms around her waist, looking down at her.

"As selfish as I know it is, I don't believe I could now. My voice and the reasonable part of me used to encourage you to find a better life, told you to find someone else and be happy; but my heart always shouted, 'Please don't go! Please don't leave me.'" He drew her closer and brushed a kiss on her hair. "I don't think my heart would continue to beat without you."

"Now you understand." She smiled and stretched up to kiss him. "Are we still going to the falls?"

"Five minutes," he promised.

While he dressed Catherine turned her attention back to her briefcase and removed a few folders to take along when they walked to the falls. She said nothing about them, just added them to the two books she had chosen. Vincent asked nothing, knowing she would explain when she was ready. He took it all from her, took her hand, and enjoyed the walk. They spread a blanket and sat in their favorite spot, leaning against a large rock and each other.

"You haven't slept much lately," he ventured as she nestled against his shoulder. "You've been working much too hard, but you don't seem to be as tired as usual."

"That's because it wasn't all the same work as usual. You missed a couple of pages," she pointed out, and showed him the notes on the lower elevator. "What do you think? Will it work?"

"Is this what Cullen and the others were discussing last weekend?" he asked, sounding amused. "I knew they were up to something. The conversation stopped or changed every time I was near them. Cullen appeared to be in charge, so I thought they might be concocting some nefarious plan for our wedding."

"I asked them to give me an objective opinion before I mentioned it to you," she admitted. "I haven't seen that part of the tunnels, so I don't understand everything in the sketches yet, but they sounded encouraging."

"If everything here is correct, there could be a good chance it would work. Look at the area here," he said, pointing out the section of the sketch that made the least sense to her. There is a large opening in the rock structure here that drops what you would call several stories. For as long as I can remember, the crews have used a system of slings, ropes and pulleys there to move large, heavy supplies into the lower tunnels."

"Like the pictures I've seen of pianos being moved to fifteenth story apartments?"

Catherine asked, delighted to make another discovery about her adopted home.

Vincent smiled. He always took pleasure in Catherine's excitement at a new understanding of how his world worked.

"This is where Mouse moved the grand piano he 'found' before he had to admit what he had done. It would have been entertaining to watch the process he invented to move what he managed on his own. When it came to lowering the part of the piano that included the cast iron frame, he had to ask for assistance. Father's face was a picture I shall never forget when he was told why Mouse was asking for help." Vincent laughed quietly at the memory.

Catherine chuckled in response, enjoying her imagined perception of Father's face.

"This opening is less than a city block east of the basement of your father's apartment. The storage building we use as access to move large supplies into the tunnels is not much farther to the west. We use the opening here often enough that we have it protected with a false wall and a sentry post. There are similar rock structures in other places, but this is the one we use.

"Why this one?"

"Security and ease of travel. The storage building provides the only outside access to this area, so there is minimal activity from sources other than the tunnels -- and travel from the base of this opening to the home tunnels is both shorter and easier than from the others. Stability is important, too. The buildings in this part of the city are well-established, well-maintained, and their well-to-do home-owners aren't likely to be displaced by development of new buildings."

"Like another Burch Towers?"

Vincent nodded as he looked at the crew's notes again. "If you weren't aware of the tunnel access there, why were you considering an elevator?" he finally asked out of curiosity.

"I plan to move into Daddy's apartment. It's larger, it has its own private elevator, the balcony still overlooks the park, it isn't far from where I am now, I'm told that the rock structure lends itself to the lower elevator, and you could get there safely...anytime you want... day or night." She looked up at him. "You could have sunlight, and we could have time completely alone. There would be a way for you to leave in any kind of emergency, a security system any government lab would be proud to own, and it would fit you better than my smaller apartment does. I would still want to spend a lot of time here, but do you think you could adjust to spending some time there?"

"Catherine..." he answered, with a touch of reprimand. "This would cost a fortune, and you would need all of this only for me."

"You and Cullen have said one of the thresholds you use for bringing in large supplies isn't too far away. A freight elevator would be large enough to be useful for moving things into the tunnels, it would be easier for some of the older people to go Above now and then...and neither of us is getting any younger. There would be a hidden compartment in the upper elevator and access to ladders in the shafts of both so you would have an exit no matter what happened. ...And you're worth it. What have I missed?"

"Very little, it seems. Is this what you meant... a man of a world and a half?"

"I have plans to help in my world - those are in folders two, three, and four - but I'm starting with us and the tunnels. Vincent, I could live in your world and be happy, but there are so many people I could help in mine; and you've seen that I have the resources to do it. I've loved every minute of the time we've shared on my balcony; but I need a place Above to work, and I'd like to be able to share more of my world with you than a balcony that you have to take risks to reach." She looked a little concerned about his reaction and asked again, a little more tentatively, "What do you think?"

"I hardly know where to begin."

"Father said I should talk to you next weekend and let you adjust to one surprise at a time, but I was too excited to wait."

"You've discussed this with Father?" he exclaimed in disbelief. Then he asked with a small chuckle, "Was he still breathing when you left?"

"He didn't give me the opinions I asked for," she laughed, "but he didn't ask about my sanity either...and I didn't have to administer CPR. It gave me hope."

Vincent chuckled again as he looked over the plans once more. Thinking realistically and sounding more serious, he said. "There would have to be a way I could be contacted in case of an emergency. The well-being of this community has to be a priority. This is my home, my family."

"I wouldn't expect any less of you."

"Catherine, I need time to absorb all this. Should I consider asking about the other folders?"

"Those are the reasons I'd like to keep a place in my world as well as yours. I would want to be actively involved, especially where the children are concerned. But keep in mind, I consider the tunnels my home too, and your family already feels like mine." Launching her thoughts in yet another direction, she teased, "Have you considered that your chamber may have to undergo some changes to accommodate a wife?"

"My chamber and I await," he answered gallantly, and kissed the top of her head as he reached for the other folders.

He looked at the very sketchy plans. Those, she had decided, could wait until after the wedding. There were pictures of the buildings, notes she had made when she and Peter and Isaac had walked through them, square footages and floor plans. There were also the plans and contacts her father had made, lists of helpers Peter had provided for her father and those she had copied from Father's lists, as well as notes she had made on what she thought she might realistically be able to accomplish with each one.

"This is a great deal of work in such a short time. Ambitious plans. Do you think you can accomplish it all?"

"It won't all happen at once; but with the right kind of guidance, I think it could all happen eventually. You'll help me, won't you? You know how much I value your advice."

"Anything I can do, Catherine. Anything at all," he promised a little absently, still assimilating the plans.

They walked back in an easy silence that was comfortable to both of them, each enjoying the evening and wondering exactly what the other was thinking. After a few minutes at the guest chamber a message was heard on the pipes calling Vincent away again, so they said their good-nights and parted.

Catherine was relieved to have finally told Vincent of her intentions, but lay awake wondering how he would respond after it all sunk in.

Vincent, when he was able to return, lay awake trying to imagine the latest new turns his life could take, and appreciating again the talents and generosity his Catherine possessed. Neither of them slept until the wee hours of the morning.

Catherine woke feeling a quizzical kind of excitement in Vincent. She dressed and intended to meet him in his chamber; but she sensed him coming from another direction, and farther away. She waited a few minutes and then began to hear voices in animated conversation coming from the outer parts of the main hub. Vincent appeared with Cullen, Kanin, Father, Pascal, Jamie and several men she knew were usually involved in the planning when there were structural concerns. Mouse was trailing behind, shouting a suggestion now and then in response to their conversation. They had obviously been to look at the area for the lower elevator. The fact that Mouse was now involved gave Catherine dual feelings. One was that creative new ideas were about to emerge. The other was that she needed to be a little nervous.

"Dare I ask for your conclusions?" she asked as she approached them.

Vincent was holding the apartment/elevator folder, and a couple of the men were looking at Catherine with a new respect. A wedding to plan, and she had found time to put this together first.

"We don't have final conclusions yet, but it does look pretty promising," Cullen told her. "Even Father thinks it might work. We need to get Tom Mason down here to tell us what he can do with an elevator system to accommodate what we have to work with."

"I'll call him and make some arrangements Monday morning," she promised. "Be sure to include anything that would be of help to the tunnels in your discussions, and whatever you need, you'll have."

Most of the men looked at her as if she had lost her mind - or they were losing theirs.

"My father's estate is settled now," she explained, "I was his only living relative, and I...there's enough to provide whatever you need. Make it work for the community, not just for Vincent and me."

Father could see that Catherine was a little uncomfortable when the conversation had turned to finances, so he stepped in to steer things in a new direction. She felt so much a part of them now, and everyone accepted her that way. He knew she didn't want to emphasize the differences any further.

"Have you had breakfast, young lady?"

"No," she admitted. "I was about to look for Vincent when I came upon all you early birds."

"Then why don't you come with us. We can talk while we eat. We left before William ever serves breakfast." He emphasized the word "ever" and gave her a purposeful look, reminding her of Vincent's unheard of bending of William's hours while she was serving as nurse a few weeks before. She grinned and joined the crew to walk to the dining hall.

"After breakfast," Father said, "I think I shall return to my chamber and recover from this walk."

"Father, does all this mean that you trust me to make it safe for Vincent to spend time Above with me?" she asked hopefully. Vincent was still conferring with Cullen, and she was lagging behind with Father, keeping him company while he indulged his tired hip.

"Catherine, my dear," he said, putting his arm around her shoulder, "I admit that I wasn't always your biggest fan; but I have seen the error of my ways. I know now that you would work with the same ferocity as I to keep Vincent safe. Giving up your job, changing your life style..."

"Giving up your job? When did you make that decision? Are you doing this because of me?" Vincent had turned to join them, and caught the last of the conversation as he walked toward them. He seemed upset. "When were you planning to tell me this?"

Catherine stopped and looked up at him calmly.

"To answer to your questions in order... One - Yes, I am, at the end of the year... Two - When I decided to work with Daddy's plans. Ummm...Three - No I'm not, not entirely. And Four - Last night, but I forgot." She looked up at him a little defiantly, obviously preparing her argument.

Father walked away smiling. When it came to being stubborn, his son had certainly met his match. This small woman was going to stand up to his very large son whenever she felt it necessary. When they announced their engagement, he had promised himself not to meddle in their decisions anymore. He knew it might not always happen, but he intended to do his best. Father just moved on and left them to work this out for themselves.

"Catherine, you've given up so much for me already...kept secrets from friends, isolated yourself from so much of what you did before you knew me. You shouldn't give up a job you love. I don't want to take anything else from you."

"My priorities have changed, Vincent. That's all. I'm tired of being shot at or kidnapped or shoved around, and I don't want you feeling a continual need to rescue me. Surely you can't object to my giving that up. The longer I work with the DA, the more enemies I make, and the more danger there will be for both of us. I'll still be doing something we can both be proud of - taking the concerns we share into my world. I'll still be making a difference. I'll love my new work, too - probably more than what I'm doing now."

He leaned his head slightly to one side and nodded his acceptance of her decision, then he took her hand and they followed his father to the dining hall.

Over breakfast the group discussed the elevator and a new threshold to Charles Chandler's apartment building. Pascal had grown up in the tunnels, Cullen had spent most of his adult life there, and Kanin had been there for about fifteen years. They had all worked with helpers at times, especially those in construction. They sometimes bartered services for materials, giving their time and skills when construction workers were needed, and in return, receiving supplies needed to keep the tunnels and thresholds in good repair. That experience gave them some insight into which helpers provided the best work. They looked over Catherine's lists and offered their advice, as well as offering any help they themselves could provide. Most of the tunnel residents would be likely to make similar offers when the need for their talents arose. All of the members of the crew were impatient to meet with Tom Mason to start making more solid plans.

With a great deal of respect, Catherine watched Jamie absorbing everything being discussed. Jamie was a formidable presence for such a young woman. She seemed determined to learn every aspect of the needs of her community; and to their credit, the men, as well as the women, had recently begun to allow her involvement in some of the more important projects. She seemed to understand the varying rock structures and the reasons for treating each differently. She understood the political workings of the community, and never failed to voice her opinions - often showing an insight beyond her years. She was often asked to schedule daily duties; and she was a good mediator when tempers flared and things got out of hand - except, of course, on the occasions when the flaring temper was her own. She was also the only one, other than Vincent, who seemed to be able to keep Mouse in check - a valuable asset in itself. In spite of her youth, Catherine expected to see her elected to the council soon. She wondered if Jamie might have any inclinations toward college and engineering, and whether she could tolerate being away from her family and community for that long. She would have to broach the subject when there weren't so many other things to think about.

Now that the elevator problem had been tackled, it was time to start planning a wedding. She had already accepted that everyone at her wedding would be tunnel residents and helpers. It helped that Peter would be there to give her away. There would be at least one familiar face from Above in the wedding party. She hadn't talked to anyone yet about being bridesmaids or a maid of honor. She could hardly wait to be married to Vincent, but this wedding would be missing some important people in her life. The first step in the planning was to sit down with Mary and some of the other women and decide how to organize and decorate the room for the ceremony. After that they needed to decide what everyone would wear. They didn't have to know specifically who would be wearing it. Shopping was next. Her first thought was to have Jenny go shopping with her, but that would mean telling her why. Telling her why would mean telling her about Vincent, and that she couldn't do. A wave of sadness suddenly rushed over her, catching both Catherine and Vincent by surprise. He excused himself from the elevator conversation and held his hand out to Catherine.

"Come with me," he said, taking her hand and leading her out of the dining hall. "Tell me," he insisted as they walked.

"Can we talk in your chamber? I could use your arms around me for a little while."

"That was my plan," he smiled. "My arms have been searching for a reason to be around you."

"Do you plan to be my knight in shining armor for the rest of your life?" she smiled back, already feeling a little better.

"Yes," he answered playfully.

"A childhood dream come true."

Vincent tilted his head and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"A life with Lancelot."

He returned her smile with the same good humor. This time there was no mention of Lancelot's flaws. Vincent finally understood that in Catherine's eyes he was the greatest knight of all; and in spite of himself, he now basked unashamed in that thought. Catherine's eyes were the ones that mattered.

When they reached his chamber, he pulled the screen across the door, led her to his chair and sat down.

"What caused you such sadness. Is there something I can do?"

Catherine gladly let him pull her into his lap, and she rested against him.

"I don't know. Probably not."

"Tell me," he said, kissing her forehead as he held her a little closer.

"I was thinking of our wedding and all the preparations we need to make. I need to find fabric for the dresses and choose flowers, and a host of other things..."

"And that made you sad?" he asked gently, wiping away a single errant tear from the corner of her eye.

"No, that makes me very happy. It's having to do it alone that made me sad. I found myself thinking of shopping with Jenny and Nancy, but that would mean telling them. Jenny knows there's someone, and she's left me alone about who; but I know it kills her." She stopped and smiled at Jenny's forced self-control on the subject. "Nancy knows I love someone named Vincent, and she's a good enough friend to listen to what I can tell her and accept that I can't tell her more. I could call her; but then I couldn't invite her to the wedding... She would understand, but it would hurt both of us. I want to tell them everything. I want to have them in our wedding. I know they would love you, too; but I won't betray the community. Telling them only about you would leave too many unanswered questions." She took in a deep breath and sounded more cheerful. "I'll get over it. It just hit me by surprise this morning before I could stop it. I didn't mean to worry you with anything like that. Maybe Mary and Olivia would go with me. Jenny and Nancy don't know any more about sewing than I do. We'd probably be a disaster looking for a place to happen."

"Catherine..." he breathed against her hair. "Another disappointment because you love me." He shifted slightly in the chair and seemed to be thinking, rather than brooding, the way such a conversation would often affect him. "You trust these people completely, don't you?"

"Completely. Neither of them would ever betray my trust...ever."

"Mmmm..." he responded sympathetically and left the subject there, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

Catherine snuggled against him and enjoyed being close for a while. Sharing a kiss now and then made her feel considerably better. She knew it couldn't last. Vincent had work to do that morning, and it wasn't long before Cullen was teasing from the other side of the screen.

"Hey! What are you two doing in there?"

"Come in, Cullen," Catherine answered, reluctantly leaving her nice, warm snuggle to move the screen away from the door. Smiling at him mischievously as he entered the room, she added, "...and you can leave your one track mind out there."

He grinned back. For a spoiled little rich girl, she had turned out pretty well, and for someone like her to love someone like Vincent... 'Go figure,' he thought to himself, but he had to admit to admiring her. She had certainly paid her dues Below, and he'd be in her corner any time.

"Come on, Vincent, we're ready to go. The sooner we get started, the sooner you can get back to whatever I interrupted." He grinned again at seeing Vincent look annoyed.

Vincent picked up a toolbag near the door, swung it over one shoulder, and looked toward Catherine apologetically.

"Don't worry about me," she told him. I'll go and talk about weddings with Mary and Olivia and Jamie and Rebecca, and Sarah, and..." The list of names came out in a sing-songy fashion, indicating a long list, and the twinkle in her eyes indicated her excitement about the subject.

Vincent smiled and followed Cullen out. When they were barely out of the door, she heard Vincent's voice.

"Tell the others I'll catch up, Cullen. I forgot something."

His large form reappeared in the doorway. He swung his free arm around her and planted a kiss full of promise on her lips.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too, Lancelot," she whispered back. "See you this afternoon."

It was Sunday, and normally on Sunday morning things were quiet in the tunnels; but there had been a security breach at one of the thresholds on Saturday night. That was what had kept Vincent and Catherine's goodnight so short the night before. Vincent heard the message on the pipes and had to respond with the security crew. After checking, it didn't seem to be a real problem, but to be certain, they had posted extra sentries there overnight. It was a frequently used entrance; so to avoid the possibility of discovery, Vincent's work crew planned to close that threshold temporarily and reopen an old one close by.

On Sunday mornings things were usually very laid back. Breakfast was always as simple as possible, and was generally served an hour later than usual. The Sunday cooking was all done on Saturday, and the assigned kitchen staff served it on Sunday to give William a day off. This Sunday William had come in early to enlist the help of the kitchen staff for the morning and had helped pack lunches and drinks for the crew to take with them. They would all be exhausted when they returned.

Catherine resigned herself to seeing very little of Vincent that weekend, picked up her notebook, walked to Mary's chamber and asked if she had time to discuss a wedding. As she expected, Mary was more than willing. Knowing that several of the other women would never forgive being left out of the planning, she gave Catherine several names and claimed a few more for herself. They then separated and went to round up those who could meet them in the dining hall where they could all sit around a table and talk.

Knowing the women in the group always had a hand in planning Winterfest, Catherine expected that they would have good ideas about how to set up the hall to best accommodate a wedding ceremony. She wanted to allow the tunnel residents the time they needed for extra wedding preparations without placing an unreasonable burden on their normal duties. The room itself and what they would need in terms of organizing food and decorations seemed the right place to start. From what she was hearing about the number of people who would want to attend the wedding, she had already decided they might as well plan it as an event the size of Winterfest. Catherine had no desire for a wedding that size, but she felt she should accommodate the wishes of Vincent's friends and family.

The women who had lived Above were well aware of the kind of wedding Catherine would probably have had in her world, and they wanted to give her something as close to that as they could manage.

They didn't have much time to plan something that size, but if everything else was arranged, Catherine knew she could buy dresses, etc. if it became necessary. Besides, she wasn't ready to think about dresses without Jenny and Nancy in two of them quite yet.

'Good thing I have money!' she thought with a smile.

She and her soon-to-be family members sat talking, planning, and laughing at the ridiculous suggestions that always come from trying to solve the last few seemingly impossible problems. By the time they had worn themselves out coming to what appeared to be a workable plan, they were referring to themselves as The Committee.

The children were excited enough about the wedding that Catherine wanted to find a way to include them in the planning, so The Committee decided on an area that the children would be responsible for decorating. They all envisioned some arguments and a high degree of whining and complaining among the younger members of the community. They also envisioned a high degree of refereeing and diplomatic intervention by the older members, but the thought of the children's pride at seeing their contributions used for the wedding more than offset the anticipated wrangling.

When they finally came to the conclusion that they had done all they could do for the time being, Catherine had actual plans to share with Vincent and Father. As she closed her notebook they realized people were beginning to drift in for lunch.

"Well," Rebecca announced in a rather self-satisfied tone, "I believe we've put in a good morning's work. Let's see what we have for lunch."

No one argued. Everyone just followed her to the steadily growing lunch line.

Catherine filled a tray for herself and Father with the intention of having lunch with him in his chamber and showing him their plans. She put the tray down, hugged the members of The Committee, and thanked them for their help. As long as it had taken for Father to accept her so completely, all of them understood her excitement at sharing her plans with him.

She appeared at the top of the stairs to Father's chamber just as he was collecting his cane for the short trek to the dining hall.

"I brought lunch and wedding plans, Father. Sit down and let me refill your tea for you."

"Lunch and wedding plans? You're full of surprises this weekend, aren't you?"

He sat down at his desk, accepted the hot tea Catherine offered and watched as she laid out their lunch. She came to his side of the desk, playfully dropped a napkin across his lap and bent to kiss his forehead. He smiled as she walked to sit across from him, relishing the attention.

"May I assume the little meeting in the dining hall concerned wedding plans?" "It did," she answered, sounding both excited and amused. "I have sketches of a couple of arrangements for the hall, and some decorating plans, and there are reception plans for a very large number of people." She emphasized the words "very large". "I'll need to talk to some of the helpers about arranging for flowers and for some catering to help William out. I know he'd try to manage it all, but he shouldn't have to worry about Thanksgiving, a wedding this size, and Winterfest all in the same few weeks."

"He will undoubtedly grouse about too many cooks, etc.," Father agreed, "but I'm quite sure he will appreciate the help when the reality of so many events rears its head."

"After lunch will you give me your opinion about which layout looks most workable?"

"May I see?" he asked.

Catherine handed Father the plans and they ate lunch in a companionable silence as Father looked over the morning's work. They discussed the pros and cons of the different arrangements and decided on the one with the fewest cons.

"Father, I know you often officiate at the joining ceremonies here, but I would like to have this wedding as close to legal in my world as possible. Vincent has never had a legal existence, and if anything happened to the tunnels - another builder with Burch Tower plans, an intrusion that revealed this place to the world... I can't imagine anything worse for him. If our marriage were recognized, at least by a church, it might give me some leverage to keep him safe. My father used to take me to church. We were involved in a lot of activities there with Peter and his daughter through most of my childhood, but the minister there isn't on your list of helpers. Do you have any suggestions?"

"I believe I do," Father answered. "One of the young men who grew up here graduated from seminary year before last and has just been assigned as associate pastor in a church in Brooklyn. Jason idolized Vincent when he was growing up. I imagine he would consider it a consummate honor to perform the ceremony."

"Then I'll see him next week," Catherine told him. "May we count on you to open the ceremony?"

"My dear, I would also consider it a consummate honor. You may count on me for whatever you need, including minding my own business...as much as I can manage," he said good-naturedly.

"I love you, Father," Catherine said sincerely, reaching across the desk to place her hand on his.

"I have come to love you, too, Catherine - very much," he answered, taking her hand in both of his. "I look forward to this wedding for many reasons, not the least of which is claiming a remarkable daughter-in-law."

Catherine smiled in pleasure and appreciation at words she once thought she would never hear, and briefly placed her other hand over his. She then stood to gather the dishes.

"I'll talk to Vincent about this when he returns," she said, and grinned mischievously. "Next weekend we discuss fashion."

As Catherine left with the dishes Father was still chuckling at the thought of Vincent discussing fashion.

After the work crew returned and Vincent cleaned up, he and Catherine had dinner and looked at the wedding plans. He made only one suggestion for change, which made perfect sense when Catherine thought about it; so she made that change in her written plans and felt quite relieved that so much had been accomplished in one day.

They spent some quiet time together before Catherine had to grudgingly go back to reality. She had to be at work the next morning. Vincent walked her to her threshold and only intended to give her a good-night kiss; but the moment their lips touched, it ignited something in both of them. They hadn't seen each other at all the weekend before, hadn't had time for more than kisses on Saturday; and with the work crew gone on Sunday, they had precious little time together for anything at all. Things were immediately getting out of hand. Vincent lifted her and pressed her against the brick wall next to the ladder, and she was willingly responding when the pipes sang out another message for Vincent. Simultaneously Mouse came barreling around the corner toward them. Vincent released Catherine and whirled toward him with an angry snarl, standing protectively in front of Catherine.

"Need you quick, Vincent. Accident. Nathan. Leg caught. Hurry!"

Mouse said all that in total oblivion to what Vincent and Catherine might have been doing, or to the fact that Vincent had snarled at him. Most of the time Mouse lived in his perception of the moment, and this moment only included getting Vincent to where he was needed.

Vincent glanced quickly at Catherine, still disoriented both at what had nearly happened and from being snatched away from it so unexpectedly.

"Go, Vincent. Nathan needs help. I'll see you next weekend," Catherine told him.

Vincent touched her arm and squeezed it gently, adding a quiet apology before he left, running back through the tunnels with Mouse.

Catherine leaned against the wall for a few minutes, calming her overwhelming response to Vincent's kiss and recovering from the thought of what might have happened if Mouse hadn't interrupted. What was Vincent doing to her judgment? What was she doing to his? Neither of them would have intentionally started something like that in such an inappropriate place. She had to admit to herself that she was glad it had been Mouse looking for them instead of someone who might have actually been paying attention. She released a long, slow breath at the relief of being spared that indignity and pulled herself up the ladder toward her world.

The week that followed was largely uneventful at the DA's office. Catherine took advantage of the unexpected lull and used the late afternoons for meetings with the contractors who would be working on her father's apartment. She had hired only helpers, in part because she wanted to support their businesses, but more importantly because she knew that she could trust them completely. All of them would understand the need for Vincent's safety. None of them would speak to tabloid reporters or gossip mongers about the accommodations for a very large man in an apartment meant to be occupied by only a small woman.

Both of the companies she was presently dealing with had started small, and their owners had worked hard to turn them into successful, respected businesses in their fields. Both owners had been helped at some time in their lives by the tunnel community and had made it a point to hire as many helpers as possible to return the favor. They would both see that only helpers entered Catherine's apartment.

Knowing the security conscious nature of the tunnels, neither of them objected to giving Catherine a copy of their proposed plans to take Below. They both had a great deal of respect for the opinions of the crews in the tunnels. They both understood Catherine's concern for Vincent's safety and knew those in the tunnels did as well, and if their plans had missed anything at all that could compromise that, they wanted to find it.

The workweek in both the tunnels and the DA's office was pretty mundane for a change. There was always something pressing in the DA's office, but this week it hadn't been pressing quite as hard as usual. Catherine had worked late a couple of nights, but she had managed to leave work on time on Friday afternoon. She knew Vincent was still busy, so she took her time preparing to go Below. Her bag was packed, including a stack of magazines - some of them vintage magazines - and a couple of books with pictures of gowns and the accompanying men's wear, several century's worth. She had no intention of trying to get Vincent into a tuxedo, but she smiled devilishly at the thought. In her opinion he looked just fine in exactly what he usually wore. She just needed to find Mary the right fabric to make him a new silk shirt like the white one he wore when he proposed - and a new vest, and she had to remember to ask who made his boots. He could use some new ones anyway, and this would be a good excuse to keep him from complaining about the extravagance. The other men in the wedding party - maybe tuxedos? ...maybe even Father? Another mischievous smile.

After the bag was packed Catherine took a long, leisurely bath and took time to paint her nails a soft peach color to match the sweater she was wearing. She hadn't bothered with coloring her nails for a while, and she felt like pampering herself tonight. It would do Vincent good, too, to feel this complete relaxation coming from her direction. He worried about her too much.

Dinner was warming in the microwave while she checked once more to see that she had everything she would need for the weekend. She looked through the headlines in the newspaper as she ate her dinner, then she cleaned up the small mess in the kitchen and gathered her things to go Below.

Vincent was waiting impatiently at Catherine's threshold, pacing restlessly now and then. He knew she was on her way; but he needed to be close to her, and it seemed hours since she arrived at home. He hadn't been there long and couldn't have been there any earlier anyway, but he was impatient nevertheless. Finally he heard movement in the storage room above him, saw the light from the basement door; and there she was, moving down the ladder toward him. He took her bag, dropped it to the dusty floor and caught her in his arms before she reached the bottom of the ladder.

Her feet were dangling and she was nearly eye level with Vincent, but she was getting the kind of kiss she had dreamed of all week. At that moment she really didn't care if her feet ever touched the ground again.

"Mmmmm... " she growled breathlessly. "After the last time we did this here, do you think this is wise?"

"It may not be wise, but I believe it was the best moment of my week," he said, smiling broadly.

"Do you intend to put me down?"

"Do I have to?"

"You do unless you intend to carry me back to your chamber and then cover the entrance. That might raise a few eyebrows, don't you think?"

"Do you think so?" he chuckled as he lowered her to the floor.

She reached for her bag, but Vincent was faster and swung the strap over his shoulder.

"You had a pleasant evening," he said, wrapping his other arm around her shoulders.

"Yes," she answered as she snuggled against him contentedly and reached under his cloak to put her arm around his waist. "And it's getting more pleasant by the minute."

They talked on the way back to the living area, trying not to look as if they wanted to run to Vincent's chamber, although that was the way they felt. It had been too long since they were together, and they needed the loving touches they could now allow themselves. Vincent immediately moved the screen to cover the door as they entered his chamber, and he swept a very cooperative Catherine into his arms. He drew her as close to himself as he could manage, and she seemed to feel it wasn't close enough. They let the kiss that followed take its own course, and it was rapidly leading them toward Vincent's large bed when he suddenly moved and turned away from the door. Catherine was confused at first. She understood when Teresa rushed in, pushing the screen to get through and calling Vincent's name as she entered.

Catherine could see where Teresa was going at that speed and she had no intention of allowing it. Vincent was sitting in his large chair by then with his hands across his lap, wondering how embarrassing this situation might become. Knowing that Vincent's lap right then was neither the proper place for a four year old, nor the best target for a forty pound bundle of energy moving at warp speed, Catherine grabbed the little girl up and swung Teresa into her arms.

"Vincent, Vincent?!" Catherine exclaimed with a smile she hoped looked more sincere than it really was after that particular interruption. "What about Catherine, Catherine? Why are you in such a hurry?" she asked.

Teresa laughed and gave Catherine a hug.

"The other kids gave Vincent good-night kisses, but I didn't get a chance. I came to say good-night."

"Why didn't you give him a kiss, too?"

"Brooke was still helping me take a bath."

"So you weren't there," Catherine said. "Well, I think Vincent would be willing to take care of that problem." Thinking as fast as she could, Catherine asked, "Do you know what my mother would do after my bath sometimes when I was little like you?"

"What?"

"She would get me into my pajamas, turn me upside-down and I would give my daddy upside-down kisses before they tucked me in. Would you like to give Vincent upside-down kisses?"

"Yeah," Teresa giggled, obviously enjoying the idea.

Catherine walked toward Vincent with Teresa's feet over her shoulder and the rest of the giggling little girl dangling upside down in front of her. Teresa planted two big kisses on Vincent's cheek just as Brooke called his name from outside the door. She had gone to check on one of the other children, and Teresa had escaped. Another child told her that Teresa ran out saying something about Vincent, so she checked at his chamber first. Hearing a four-year-old voice coming from the chamber, she let herself in. Brooke took Teresa from Catherine and reprimanded her for leaving.

"I just wanted to kiss Vincent good-night" Teresa protested.

"Well, you should tell me before you leave next time," Brooke scolded. "I'm sorry, Vincent," she said in his direction. "It looked like the door was covered. Did she just burst in?"

"We'll talk to her about that tomorrow," Vincent told Brooke, sounding a great deal more patient than he felt.

Brooke left, holding Teresa's hand firmly and speaking to her about entering chambers without announcing herself properly.

Catherine put the screen firmly back in place.

"I guess it was a little early to think we could get away with it, wasn't it? But it certainly seemed like a good idea at the time."

Vincent leaned his head back against the chair in exasperated silence then voiced a small growl. Catherine laughed and sat on his knee.

"What now?" he asked, his head still leaned back.

"We wait until they all go to sleep, I suppose," she said equally exasperated. "That's two close calls. If she had burst in a few minutes later..."

"A disconcerting thought," Vincent agreed. He pulled her into his lap and rested his head on hers. "I know that patience is a virtue, but right now it isn't one of mine." "We could visit Father," Catherine suggested.

"He would welcome a visit. It might be a wise decision."

They sat for a few minutes calming their impatience then went to visit Father.

Later Vincent walked Catherine to the guest chamber, knowing no one had seen them and that most of the tunnel residents were sleeping peacefully; and they loved one another until they were both content. When he moved to sit up, Catherine pulled him back in protest.

"I can hardly wait until we can do this without one of us having to leave" she complained.

"Two months, one week and six days," Vincent answered, kissing her shoulder.

"Too long," Catherine groaned.

"Yes," Vincent answered as he moved from the bed and dressed.

Before he went back to his chamber and his cold empty bed, he leaned and gave her a lingering kiss and promised to wake her the same way.

Knowing it had been two weeks since he and Catherine had any extended time together, no one would assign Vincent a duty that morning. They knew how much he had missed her. He and Catherine spent a quiet morning at the mirror pool. They talked about the present status of the plans they had made, and intended to make more wedding plans that afternoon. They also entertained the thought that if eloping Below were a possibility, they might consider it.

Catherine wanted Vincent to have a say in what the men in the wedding would wear, a subject Vincent was not terribly excited about. He was going along with the excitement patiently because he understood it was the way his family and friends chose to show their joy in his happiness - the way of wedding celebrations through the centuries. Like Catherine, though, he was ready to reach the end of the ceremony and the beginning of the actual marriage. Being completely honest with himself, he would have to admit that reaching the actual honeymoon wasn't too low on his wish list either. He couldn't suppress a smile at the thought of waking up next to Catherine for the rest of his life, or at knowing that she felt the same about him. Now and then he still felt he needed to pinch himself to be sure it was all real.

Devin would be best man, and Kanin and Olivia would stand with them, as well as Mouse and Jamie. That was as far as the wedding party decisions had progressed.

Knowing both how proud Mouse would feel to be included in the wedding and how unpredictable he could be, Vincent had mentioned the idea to Catherine before saying anything to Mouse; and she had immediately agreed. She did mention that she was glad Jamie would be close by for back up.

After lunch in the dining hall Catherine brought Kanin, Mary and Olivia to Vincent's chamber to help them make their decisions.

Kanin was as thrilled as Vincent about being included, but Olivia insisted it was necessary. He just hoped it wouldn't take too long. Tunnel clothes were meant for comfort and warmth, and he had become quite happy with that over the years. He could only imagine what these women might want to subject him to.

Mouse had not been invited. No one thought that Mouse would understand a discussion of clothes. The women intended to simply tell him, "This is what you will wear." and tolerate the protests.

When Catherine entered the chamber with her small entourage, Vincent and Kanin exchanged looks similar to what one would expect of a deer in someone's headlights. No one expected to see Vincent in anything other than a newly made version of what he usually wore. They just needed to try to drag out of him some preference for color and the type of vest he would like Mary to make. How to dress the other men was the next question - tunnel clothes or Above clothes? Knowing the men's lack of enthusiasm for the project, the women did their best to help.

With a little encouragement and prodding, decisions were made. Knowing they had extracted all the fashion advice they were likely to get from Vincent and Kanin, the women thanked them for their help. Gathering their books and lists, they removed all evidence of their visit from Vincent's chamber, and went to join the rest of The Committee to plan what the women would wear. Mary smiled at Vincent and Kanin on her way out, patting Kanin on the shoulder as she left. Olivia gave Kanin a kiss on the cheek. Catherine placed her hand on Vincent's shoulder, and he covered it with one of his, looking up at her.

"Thank you for your patience. I know this wasn't your favorite topic for discussion."

"It's my wedding, too."

She returned the smile he offered, let her hand fall to his upper arm and rubbed it gently before turning to go.

"And thank you, Kanin," she said as she turned to leave, smiling as she passed his chair.

"Whew," Kanin teased when he was sure Catherine was gone. "I've never seen a little touch on the arm look so..."

"Kanin..." Vincent interrupted with a tone of gentle reprimand.

"I'm only saying that if you two get that much out of a little touch on the arm, life should be good."

"We plan to have a happy life, a life I never thought would be mine."

Kanin stood to leave. "I need to go and rescue Samantha from Luke. He was a menace this morning."

He turned when he reached the door. "We all want you to have a happy life, my friend. You don't say much about it, but I know you worry about being different. You do know that nobody here cares about that, don't you? We've been waiting for this joining for a long time."

Vincent smiled and lowered his head in response. After watching Kanin leave, Vincent opened his journal and penned a few lines about happiness, warm feelings of love and support from his family, and the pleasure he felt in comfortably sharing even such a small touch of affection with Catherine in the presence of his friend. There was also a brief mention of his aversion to being a fashion consultant.

Sunday night and the familiar parting at Catherine's threshold came too soon, the only consolation being that their next meeting would only be a week away.

Monday morning brought another domestic abuse case to Catherine's desk. This time there were no children involved, only the wife. She had been beaten badly enough to require hospitalization - broken ribs, numerous severe bruises, some internal bleeding, several cuts on her face, and a gash on the back of her head where she had been shoved against a metal sculpture. Having met the doctor in the course of other similar investigations, Catherine suspected that he would stretch the hospitalization to its limits to give the victim extra time to consider what to do when she left the hospital. It was the third time the woman had been hospitalized with injuries, but this time was far worse than the others. The two times before she had agreed with her husband's explanation of accidents. This time there was no way to explain it as anything short of what it was.

The husband had been caught in the act when the police arrived. The incident started when she tried to leave him and he snatched her back into the apartment as she opened the door to go. In his anger he carelessly left the door ajar, so the neighbors heard everything. They liked his wife, Elaine. They found her to be a caring, pleasant person and hated what he did to her. This time two of them decided they needed to be brave enough to do something about it. One of them even worked up the nerve to peek in the door to see what was happening while the other called the police.

The stomach virus from the week before was still making its way through the DA's office. They had been short-handed for about a week, so Joe had no choice but to reassign the case. Catherine had already interviewed the witnesses and agreed to Joe's request that she go to the hospital to take Elaine Langston's statement. It looked like a solid case against the husband. There were witnesses, and they had hopes that the wife would cooperate this time.

Since Elaine was trying to leave him when this had happened, she was in the right frame of mind to help the DA prosecute her husband. She had already seen a crisis counselor, and when Catherine mentioned the probability that Gerald would be released on bail soon, she asked about a restraining order to keep him away. Rather than going home again, she planned on going to a shelter or safe house temporarily. Catherine had advised her not to confront Gerald or mention the restraining order if he visited her at the hospital.

The husband, Gerald Langston, had been in jail for several days because his lawyer had been out of town, and he refused to talk to anyone else. He was a well-established businessman who the police and District Attorney had been trying to convict for a variety of crimes for several years, but they had found no solid evidence. Since there had been no prior convictions, his lawyer managed to arrange bail. Gerald went straight to the hospital when he was released on Thursday afternoon, swooping into the room with roses, apologies, and professions of love just as Catherine had finished taking Elaine's statement.

"Who are you?" Gerald asked belligerently when he saw her.

"I'm from the DA's office," Catherine answered, not cowering at all.

"Well you can leave now. We don't need you here, do we, honey?" he said, looking at his wife lovingly.

Elaine just turned her bruised and swollen face toward the wall.

Catherine stooped and put the papers in her satchel next to the bed then stood and leaned to lay one hand on Elaine's arm. With the other hand she surreptitiously slipped the call button for the nurse's station in Elaine's hand and tucked the cord inconspicuously under her arm.

"Just in case..." she whispered, moving the covers slightly to make it less obvious. She added very quietly, "You know how to find me." Catherine patted Elaine's arm encouragingly and reached for her satchel.

Elaine turned her face back toward Catherine, gave her an appreciative look and nodded very slightly.

Even knowing there were witnesses this time, Gerald was still arrogant enough to think he was immune to trouble.

"My wife doesn't need you here upsetting her," he told Catherine.

"She doesn't need to be in this condition, either." Catherine answered quietly, slipping the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

"Leave us alone from now on, understand?" he said to Catherine, approaching her menacingly.

She walked past him nonchalantly, appearing unintimidated.

Knowing he was pushing his luck, he said nothing, just glared angrily as she left. He then turned his attention solicitously to his wife, expecting that she would forgive him again and that his life would go on as usual.

Catherine stopped at the nurse's station on the way out, explained the situation, left her business card, and asked that they alert security and have someone close as long as Gerald was in the building. She promised to provide a picture of Gerald so the staff would be aware if he came back and to send them notice as soon as the restraining order was issued.

After she left the hospital she went back to the office and reminded herself why she had decided to give up this job. Gerald Langston had shaken her a little, but she had no intention of allowing him to know it. She knew the man could be dangerous, and he definitely had no use for Catherine stirring around in his business.

It was nearly closing time, if the DA's office actually had such a thing. Catherine had arranged to see the florist who provided Vincent with the flowers when he proposed. She intended to spend the evening making some floral decisions for the wedding. Jenny was going to meet her for dinner, and then the florist, Myra, would meet with her after she closed her shop for the night. There was a threshold in the shop's basement, and Vincent and some members of The Committee would be meeting her there. She was looking forward to a very pleasant evening, and thoughts of Gerald Langston were going on the back burner for now.

She decided what still needed to be done before she left and completed it quickly, with no intention of taking work home with her. Tonight was hers. She had a friend to meet and a wedding to plan; and to add to the anticipation, Vincent would be close enough to touch. Tomorrow was Friday. Knowing that one more piece of wedding planning was completed would make the weekend easier.

The lower elevator project had started on Wednesday. It seemed that anything that could be done for Vincent's wedding or their apartment went to the head of the helpers' priority lists. Tom Mason employed only helpers, so any member of his crew could be trusted to handle the elevator projects. They all knew Vincent, some from as long ago as childhood, and they jumped at the chance to provide him a little extra freedom. The security system installation would start the following week, with a few finishing touches to be added when the changes to the upper elevator were complete. The new plumbing and the redecorating in the apartment itself came after that. It never failed to amaze Catherine that so many people in her world knew and loved Vincent, but that his existence still remained a secret from her world in general.

Jenny was waiting at the restaurant when Catherine arrived, dramatically pretending to have been there much longer than the five minutes she had actually been waiting. During dinner she mentioned vague dreams about a man in Catherine's life, but said it was all very strange and sketchy. She knew Catherine was happy, but that was about all she could tell her. Catherine wanted to tell Jenny everything; but she smiled and remained non-committal, changing the subject as quickly as she could without looking suspicious. They had squeezed dinner into their schedules between Catherine's job and a book signing Jenny had arranged at a store near the restaurant. Sooner than they wanted they rose to go their separate ways. On the way out of the restaurant Catherine heard a smooth voice say her name, as if in surprise. She turned to see who had spoken to her and there stood Gerald Langston, a smile on his face and an appearance of complete self-control.

"Miss Chandler, I didn't expect to see you here."

To any casual observer it would have appeared to be a chance encounter, but Catherine sensed something more sinister in his being there and wanted to be away from him as soon as possible. Jenny felt that something was going on, so she didn't leave as soon as she had paid her check as she had intended to. She walked outside with Catherine, got a very sketchy explanation and waited until her friend was safely in a cab before she walked around the corner to the bookstore. She looked back briefly at the door before she left and didn't see Langston. She and Catherine both assumed he was paying his bill inside.

The taxi got only as far as the corner near the restaurant before having to stop at a traffic light. Catherine was fidgety, anxious to put some distance between herself and her unwelcome encounter.

It was still early for her meeting with the florist, so she had plenty of time to do some quick errands and unwind a little. She knew Vincent had felt her anxiety at the encounter with Langston. If she didn't control the apprehensive feelings, he might come to meet her early to see what was wrong. He might also feel the need to be out looking for her; and she didn't want that. Although it was dark, it was still early enough in the evening that there were a lot of people on the streets; and he wouldn't be safe. She intended to go to the florist shop and wait in the back room until everyone else was there, and she would go back to her apartment by way of the tunnels. She had left Langston at the restaurant, and the thought of extra time with Vincent successfully cleared most of the worry from her mind.

She didn't feel that Vincent was that close yet, and there was a small grocery store across the street from the florist, so she stopped to pick up a few things she needed. Realizing she had a little more time, she asked the grocer to hold the items for her to pick up in a few minutes and went to a little shop a couple of doors down the street to look for a gift for Nancy's birthday. As she left the shop someone opened the door for her. She turned to thank him, and looked into the eyes of Gerald Langston again. It was such a surprise that she didn't have time to shield any of the shock from Vincent.

"We meet again, Miss Chandler."

"And we'd better not meet again any time soon," she answered icily as she left.

She tried to compose herself as she walked back to the grocer's. The clerk at the grocer's looked up when she entered his store. He placed a bag on the counter and smiled at the pleasant, attractive woman he had joked with as she shopped.

"Here it is," he said. "Enjoy."

"Thank you," Catherine answered. "I'm sure I will. How much do I owe you?"

As she handed him the money, the bell on the door announced another customer, and there was Gerald Langston again.

"Leave me alone," Catherine demanded.

"Leave you alone? What do you mean? I have every right to enter a grocery shop."

"But you have no right to follow me all over Manhattan." She turned toward the clerk; and as she placed her grocery bag on the counter, she silently mouthed, "Please call 911." She turned back to confront Langston and suggested, "Why don't we discuss this outside? This young man shouldn't have to deal with it any further."

With that statement she brushed past him and moved just outside the door. It was a pleasant autumn evening, and the glass door was open, leaving only a screen door between their conversation and the clerk, who was stealthily using the phone behind the counter to dial 911.

"There's no chance it could be coincidence that you were at the same restaurant over a mile from here, standing at the door for me at another shop less than five minutes ago and now appearing at the grocer's right behind me. I'm prosecuting your case. This could easily be construed as an effort to intimidate me."

"I haven't done anything intimidating - yet," he answered, a little more venom in his tone than before.

'No, Vincent,' Catherine thought pointedly. Aloud she said, "I intend to report these 'coincidental meetings' to the police. Right now I intend to pick up my groceries and go about my business, and I don't expect to see you again this evening."

A police car rounded the corner behind Langston just in time for it's occupants to see everything that happened after Catherine's last statement. They had been less than a block away when the dispatcher alerted them to a possible problem outside the grocery shop.

"Who do you think you are, telling me what I can do?" Langston exploded, his carefully controlled exterior quickly falling away. This was a woman issuing him orders. On top of that, it was a woman who was going to make a lot of trouble for him. His control was gone, and he needed to teach her a lesson. He advanced on her, shouting abusive names and remarks, grabbing her arms and roughly shoving her back against the store window.

With Jamie close on his heels, Vincent had already headed for Catherine when he felt her initial reaction to Langston at the restaurant. He mentioned the impression of fear from Catherine when Jamie questioned his distraction. It hadn't felt life threatening, but he wanted to know what caused it. He wasn't running, but he wasn't wasting time either. After Catherine was in the taxi and distancing herself from the problem, he altered his course for the florist shop and was already at the threshold when he felt the stab of shock she felt at the shop door. Now he felt both fear and anger, and he had to be there. He wasn't in the rage that had always taken him before, but the need to protect Catherine was much too strong to ignore. Jamie was desperately trying to reason with him in the alley behind the shop. Her opportunity to reason with him existed only because Vincent could feel Catherine's determination through their bond - she wanted him to stay out of it. Jamie did, too - pointing out the number of people who would see him.

"I'll go this time, Vincent," she insisted. "She's okay on her own so far. It doesn't look like anything's happened yet. Catherine and I can handle him between the two of us...and you won't do Catherine any good if somebody panics and shoots you.

Vincent said nothing, just backed up against the wall in frustration and waved Jamie on, knowing she was right, but hating it. He watched as she ran toward the street; then they both saw Langston shove Catherine against the window, grab her and shake her, hurling verbal abuse at her all the time. Simultaneously a low, angry growl came from the alley and Vincent's half of their bond received a powerful jolt from Catherine's that strongly suggested she wanted him to stay away.

Gerald Langston had beaten his wife and several former girlfriends in his lifetime and had always gotten away with it. He wasn't expecting a woman who would fight back. Catherine surprised him and shoved his arms away, at the same time stomping the heel of one of her high-heeled pumps down on his foot. While he reeled from that, she elbowed him sharply in the ribs and swung the large satchel from her shoulder hitting him directly on the side of his head. By that time a policewoman was out of the car announcing herself as police and ordering Langston to place his hands on the window. Her partner had stopped the car and was on the way.

Gerald immediately shifted himself into victim mode.

"Thank goodness you're here," he moaned, holding his head. "You must have seen her attack me. She had no reason. She must be crazy."

"Hands behind your head. You have the right to remain silent..." the policeman began, going through the familiar Miranda warning as the policewoman handcuffed Langston.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. "She attacked me. You saw her."

"We also saw you shout at her, throw her against the window, grab her arm and shake her before she ever touched you. Looked to us like she was defending herself," the policewoman told him. "...And a lot better than you expected her to, from what we saw," she grinned as her partner took him to the waiting car. Turning back to Catherine she asked, "Are you hurt, miss?"

"No," Catherine assured her. "A little shaken, and I may have a few bruises; but I

think that's all."

She saw to it that Vincent received the same assurances about her safety, knowing that it would allow him some relief.

"We'll need to get a statement from you, Miss...?"

"Chandler, Catherine Chandler."

Catherine gave her a brief explanation of the situation and a business card, and promised whatever cooperation she needed. By the time her story was complete, Catherine had caught her breath and was pulling herself together.

"Thanks, Miss Chandler. One of us will contact you tomorrow," the young officer told her, closing her notebook. "With a second offense so close to the last one and witnesses to both, I don't think you need to worry about seeing him again any time soon. I'll speak to the young man at the grocery store before we leave. Just need to check with my partner first. Good moves back there, by the way. Glad you're on our side. G'night."

"Thanks for everything," Catherine answered as they parted.

Jamie had been watching from across the street, thoroughly impressed at seeing Catherine in action like that for the first time. It wasn't the right time to dwell on that, though. She ran across the street calling Catherine's name, asking if she had been hurt.

Catherine hugged her and assured her that she was fine.

"You need to go to him. He needs to see for himself that you're okay. It was all I could do to keep him from running right out here in the middle of all these people."

"I know. I gave him a piece of my mind - literally," Catherine laughed ruefully, crossing the street toward the florist.

"You alright, ma'am?" the clerk called.

"She's fine," Jamie answered as Catherine ran toward Myra's shop. I'll take her bag.

"That guy sure got what he deserved. Tell her she's welcome to come along when I ask my brother-in-law to pay back the money he borrowed last month," he said with a grin.

Jamie laughed and thanked the clerk for his help.

Catherine hurried into the florist shop, told Myra she would wait for her in the back and headed straight for the stairs Jamie had described.

Vincent had consciously tried to calm himself, but he was still impatiently waiting at the top step to fold her into his arms.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to frighten you," Catherine apologized from against his chest."

"What happened?" he asked, pulling her closer. "Was there a reason he wanted to hurt you? I've felt your concern about something several times since this afternoon."

"To make a long story short..." Catherine again briefly explained the day's events. She finished by saying, "I told him I intended to call the police, and told him to stop following me. He snapped - I guess you saw the rest. I knew you were close."

"Yes," he answered, kissing her head, "I felt so helpless. I know you and Jamie were right, but it was little consolation. I believe it was the first time I really saw how well you defend yourself. Other times when you were in danger, I saw little more than the anger that someone intended to harm you." He pulled away from her slightly and looked down at her with one of his small smiles. "At first I feared for you," he said, emphasizing the word "you". "Isaac taught you well."

"Yes, he did," she stated firmly, but a little flirtatiously. She was both floored and hopeful at this new turn in his response. "Keep that in mind the next time you're about to put yourself in danger unnecessarily."

"It didn't feel unnecessary at the time," he insisted.

"Thank you for wanting to be there," she answered, "but I want you to be safe, too. I plan to need you for a very long time, and I want to keep you around."

Catherine stretched herself up to kiss him, feeling happy that the tension between them was diffusing itself so quickly after this incident.

Vincent willingly put the tension aside in favor of savoring her kiss and knowing she was safe.

When he abruptly separated himself from her, she realized Mary and Rebecca were entering the basement from the threshold.

He and Catherine were still in a shadow at the top of the stairs; so he took advantage and kissed her forehead quickly before going down the stairs to offer Mary his hand and assist her through the threshold.

To give her time to formulate a plan, Catherine had taken Myra a copy of their sketch of the layout for Great Hall, knowing she would be familiar with the room. Her plan was accepted with a few minor suggestions. Decisions made, Catherine quietly slipped Myra a generous deposit check while the others cleared the table, and they moved toward the basement, copies of the edited sketch in hand.

It was an unspoken understanding that Vincent would walk Catherine home through the tunnels.

As they walked back, Olivia led the others in teasing Vincent about keeping him company all the way to Catherine's threshold. Olivia was a couple of years older than Vincent and they had grown up feeling that she was his older sister, especially after Devin left. That feeling continued, no matter how much bigger he was now; and she was currently pressing her rights as a big sister. As they reached the fork that took them either to the living areas or to Catherine's threshold, Vincent had a brief moment of worry that they might have been serious; but they finally turned toward home, saying "Good-night." He could hear them laughing at their joke as they walked away.

"I was beginning to think they meant it," he said, sounding relieved.

"Me, too," Catherine answered, smiling at Olivia's regression to childhood.

They walked hand in hand until they passed the last sentries, then Vincent put his arm around Catherine's shoulders and pulled her closer. She wound her arm around his waist and leaned close, appreciating his warmth, his scent, the movement of firm muscles against her... They walked in silence for a while, content to just enjoy being close, and alone.

Catherine was surprised when, out of the blue, Vincent suddenly asked, "Would you keep your calendar free one week from tomorrow?"

"For you, definitely," she smiled up at him. "What happens one week from tomorrow?"

"There are two people I'd like you to spend the evening with - with me. I think you should enjoy their company."

"Should I meet you at my threshold? What time? Wait...I'll have to be at my father's apartment that night to meet with the last contractor. He has plans for the remodeling." She stopped and corrected herself and grinned at the thought. "I'll have be at our apartment that night. I can probably meet you at the elevator that evening. Mr. Mason said the upper elevator should be complete by the middle of next week, and Cullen said the new threshold should be finished this weekend. What time?"

"They should arrive at seven o'clock, and they should say that they have invitations from your friend."

"Who are they? You don't usually go to so much trouble."

"They are two women who will be important to both of us. Indulge me for now," he insisted. "Allow me to surprise you." Leaning his head to one side as he spoke and giving her one of his small, teasing smiles, he easily won the moment.

"Fine, but I may be eaten alive with curiosity before Friday. We should meet you at the threshold, then?"

"May I meet you at the apartment instead? Perhaps, since they will expect to see me, it would be easier for them to meet you there and then come here with us."

"What can I do to help?"

"Just be there," he answered, enjoying her curiosity.

Calling it their apartment instead of her apartment still felt wrong somehow - too presumptuous, too much like accepting more than he should. Still, it made her so happy he couldn't bring himself to tell her that. He was sure she was aware of it anyway.

They lingered longer than necessary at Catherine's threshold, hating to have to part. Finally Vincent moved away.

"You need rest. You have to work tomorrow," he said firmly.

"You need rest, too. I'll be here as early as I can tomorrow night."

"Something to look forward to," he answered, kissing the hand he was still holding.

"Sleep well, Vincent."

Catherine watched as he turned to walk away. A few yards away he looked back longingly. She smiled slightly with a similar look on her face and started up the ladder.

Friday wasn't nearly as eventful as the day before. Catherine never left the office, just gathered and processed information. Joe had been in meetings all morning and wasn't aware of Langston's attack on Catherine until another file folder appeared on his desk. The judge had refused bail this time, and a friend of Joe's had pushed the paperwork through and delivered it to his desk personally. There was a note on top that said, "Thought you'd want this one fast." He burst out of his office and went straight to Catherine's desk, wielding the folder.

"Are you okay? Geez, Cathy, can't you even take a statement without getting into trouble?"

"I'm fine - just a few bruises. I think I caused one of them myself swinging this bag," she smiled, nodding toward the large satchel on the floor.

"I see you kicked butt," he grinned, satisfied that she wasn't hurt.

"He didn't expect a woman to actually fight back. It was a woman who cuffed him, too. Fitting, don't you think?" she smiled.

"Yeah," Joe answered, appreciating the irony. He had no sympathy for men who abused their families. "Trouble is, now I have to give his case to somebody else."

"What a shame," Catherine said sarcastically. "I'm tired of being a target. Sometimes it feels like every nut case in the city has a folder that crosses my desk."

Joe looked at her sympathetically. He felt guilty that the little interview he assigned her had turned into something dangerous - exactly what she had tried to avoid.

"I told Vincent I was out of investigations and the danger should be behind us. I promised him. He worries about me. I don't want..."

"Look, if I had any idea this would happen, I would never have sent you."

"I know that, Joe. It was a fluke - bad timing. The good that came from it is that Langston is likely to be in jail for a while, so Mrs. Langston can go home and recover in peace - and I can stop worrying about where he might show up next."

"From what it says in this report here," Joe said with a grin, "wherever he shows up next, he'll be limping." He chuckled as he turned toward his office. "Just don't plan to get out of the next case by beating up the defendant," he said over his shoulder as he walked away.

After a long, relaxing hot shower Catherine dressed for Below, rechecked her bag and shuffled through her folders for the ones she intended to take with her. She wanted to show Vincent and Father what had been accomplished in her father's apartment so far, and she dared not go near The Committee without the wedding folder.

The biggest decisions about the wedding had been made. The rest of it could wait a day or two. Vincent and Catherine wanted a quiet weekend after all the excitement of the night before. Catherine would spend some time with The Committee while she was there; but this weekend the children had put together a little play for Saturday night, and Catherine had promised to help with whatever she could. She intended to devote whatever time was necessary to do that. Since Vincent was working with them, too, it wasn't difficult to generate some enthusiasm for the project. She was certain that would be excitement enough for Saturday.

"I love you," Catherine said when she saw Vincent at the bottom of the ladder.

"And I love you," he answered with a smile. "Is there a reason for that particular greeting?"

"Just wanted you to know," she answered, and she threw her arms around him. "I've missed you. I can't wait to be your wife."

Vincent laughed softly, joy bubbling up in him at her enthusiasm. He hugged her close and gave her a kiss that echoed her enthusiasm, then took her hand and turned toward the central tunnels.

"The children are excited that you plan to help us tomorrow."

"I brought milk and cookies to surprise them after the show. Well, I didn't actually bring all of it. Mr. Jackson was sending some produce down tomorrow morning, so he's delivering my things, too. The milk was a little heavy."

"You spoil them, you know."

"I do not. Well, not too much, anyway," she conceded unwillingly. "All children need to be spoiled once in a while. Didn't you enjoy it when someone spoiled you?"

"I still do," he said suggestively with one of his half smiles, and lifted her hand to kiss it as they walked.

The easy exchange continued between them as they walked toward the main hub.

They dropped her bag off in the guest chamber and went to see Father, knowing they dare not trust themselves alone until everyone else was settled in for the night. Two close calls were enough.

"Catherine, welcome back," the older man said, greeting her with a hug.

Catherine still felt a burst of joy when Father seemed so glad to welcome her to stay in the tunnels. She wondered how long it would take to get over each visit's initial surprise that he now accepted her, even welcomed her so completely.

The three of them talked for a while, synchronizing the schedule for the children's project the next day and answering Father's questions about the previous night.

"Have you had any pain? Did you see Peter for an examination?"

"No. I'm fine," she assured him. "A couple of minor bruises and some sore muscles, but nothing else, not a scratch anywhere. Please don't worry."

"Fathers worry, dear. Worry comes with the job," he answered, patting her shoulder affectionately.

Vincent was both pleased and amused to hear those familiar words being used on Catherine, rather than himself.

"Catherine, you promised to read the children a bedtime story," Vincent reminded her. "They should be ready by now. After being disappointed that you didn't have time last weekend, they may show up en masse at the doorway if we don't go."

Catherine stood to leave. She turned to Father and asked, "Shall we meet you for breakfast? I'd like to tell you and Vincent about the progress in the work on the apartment."

"I would enjoy that," Father answered, pleased to be included in their plans.

The younger children were waiting impatiently when Vincent and Catherine arrived. They had the books they had chosen the week before waiting in the reading chair for Catherine. A third book had been added to their selections. They apparently thought that disappointment warranted an additional story. Catherine smiled when she noticed the third book.

"You're sneaky little rascals tonight, aren't you," she said, sitting down and holding up each book individually as if counting them.

A chorus of various responses, all meaning "Pleeeeeease," answered her remark.

"We'll see how long the first two are," she told them and saw their little eyes twinkle. That did it. She already knew they would get all three stories out of her.

Just before she started the first book, she looked up at Vincent, who was leaning against the wall behind the children with his arms folded, silently mouthing, "You spoil them." She stifled a laugh and began. "Once upon a time..."

After the three books were read and the tucking in ritual was complete, Vincent and Catherine stopped to visit Mary for a while before he walked Catherine to the guest chamber - another effort to keep themselves apart until later.

There was a large, overstuffed chair in the guest chamber on the side of the bed farthest from the door. They sat together in the chair, Catherine in his lap with her legs dangling over the chair arm and the rest of her snuggled against Vincent. They sat there for a good while, just being close. Words weren't necessary. Kisses, touches and small sounds of pleasure or contentment spoke volumes. After the fear and worry and tension of the night before, they both needed that sense of well-being and complete relaxation.

"The other guest chambers are empty tonight. Do you suppose we can get away with it?" Catherine asked, looking yearningly toward the bed.

"I think we might," he answered with a smile.

She swung her feet down to the floor and stood next to the bed to turn down the covers. She had only managed to pull the covers on that side of the bed away from the pillow when Vincent wrapped his arms around her from behind. She instinctively dropped the covers and leaned her head back against his shoulder. He slowly undressed her, kissing her neck and shoulders seductively between moving the various hindrances of fabric out of their way. He held up the covers for her, to get her out of the chilly tunnel air, then he put out candles and less patiently moved fabric away from himself. Catherine slipped the covers from under the other pillow and burrowed under the soft, warm weight of the quilts, moving over to make room for him to join her. He loved her slowly and gently, and they held one another quietly and contentedly afterward.

"I wish you could stay," Catherine whispered.

"But I can't," he answered softly, wishing as much as Catherine that his answer could be different.

"I love you," he told her, and kissed her once more before sitting up and reaching for his clothes. The temperature of the air seemed much cooler than it had before. He had his boots on and was fastening his belt when they heard Jamie's voice from the passageway.

"Catherine," she called out before entering, waiting to see if there was a response.

Catherine quickly pulled up the covers Vincent had turned back when he left the bed and gathered them around her neck before she answered.

Jamie came into the chamber and started to explain why she was there, then she suddenly realized Catherine wasn't alone. Seeing Vincent on the other side of the bed, she assumed she had interrupted exactly what she had barely missed.

"Oh..." I'm so sorry. I didn't expect to... I didn't mean to interrupt..."

"You've interrupted nothing," Vincent assured her. "What was important enough to wake Catherine in the middle of the night?"

"It's Keith. He heard me say something about what happened with Langston on Thursday night, and he dreamed that somebody hurt Catherine. He's been crying for fifteen minutes non-stop. Sarah bundled him up and took him to the dining hall so the others would go back to sleep, but he won't settle for anything less than seeing Catherine for himself. I'm sorry."

It's okay, Jamie. I had a bad dream, too. I'll go and see him. We'll console each other," Catherine answered.

Knowing what Catherine wasn't wearing, Vincent suggested that he go with Jamie and see if he could help while Catherine found her robe and slippers. Catherine promised to follow quickly.

"I can understand why she might have a nightmare," Jamie said sympathetically.

"Hating the idea of lying to Jamie, Vincent said non-committally, "I knew she needed me. I stayed with her for a while." Neither of those statements represented the whole truth, but they weren't entirely lies, either.

Catherine caught up with them as they neared the dining hall. They could hear Keith crying well before they reached the doorway. She quickened her step and hurried in to take the distraught little boy from Sarah, who by that time was as glad to see Catherine as Keith was.

"Ca'frin," Keith sobbed against her shoulder. I saw the bad man hurt you."

"I'm not hurt, Keith. Look at me. No hurts, not even a little boo-boo. It was only a dream." Catherine walked, rubbed his back, and soothingly reassured him as his crying gradually calmed to loud sniffles and an occasional hiccup. He still clung tenaciously to Catherine's neck.

Vincent had only watched until the little boy began to calm, then he joined Catherine.

"Do you think you'll be alright now?" he asked, stroking Keith's hair gently as he spoke. "You can see that Catherine is fine."

"I was scared. He was a mean man, an' I love Ca'frin," he sniffed.

"I love Catherine, too," Vincent answered.

Sarah and Jamie looked at one another in surprise. Everyone knew it, but hearing it so matter-of-factly from Vincent's lips was uncommon and brought an exchange of smiles between them.

"If Catherine were hurt, I wouldn't be so calm, would I?"

"No," Keith admitted, lifting his head slightly and barely easing his vise-like grip on Catherine's neck.

"Is there a bad man?"

"No," Vincent assured him.

"Is there a bad man, Ca'frin?" he asked, finally leaning back enough to look at her.

"No. He was just a dream. Nobody hurt me. See."

Vincent took him from Catherine's arms, sat on one of the benches near a table, and sat Keith in his lap.

"Nightmares can be frightening, can't they?"

"Yeah. I cried," he said, putting his thumb in his mouth and leaning against Vincent.

Vincent suppressed a smile at Keith's understatement.

"There was a time when I had a dream that a bad man hurt Catherine, and I felt afraid when I woke up. It made me want to cry, too," Vincent told him. "Then I realized it was only a dream, and I felt better. Do you feel better?"

"I guess so," he sniffled quietly, his breathing nearly back to normal.

"If I carry you back to bed and Catherine tucks you in, do you think you can go back to sleep now?"

"Maybe."

"Catherine will walk with us," Vincent promised. "There won't be a bad man anywhere. We can watch over her. Will that be alright?"

"Okay," Keith agreed.

Vincent stood with the little boy, and he and Catherine took him back to bed.

Sarah looked at Jamie inquisitively. "By the way, why was Vincent here?"

"Catherine had a bad dream, too. He had gone to check on her, I guess. That bond thing... I thought I might have interrupted something, but he was dressed just like you saw him. He said I didn't. Looked like he just got up out of the chair."

"Too bad," Sarah answered with an uncharacteristic mischievous smile.

She and Jamie took their time walking to the nursery, and passed Vincent and Catherine as they were leaving.

"He's exhausted. We think he'll sleep now," Catherine told Sarah.

"Thanks... both of you. We needed a rescue," she answered.

Catherine and Vincent walked back toward the guest chamber. When they reached the uninhabited part of the passage where they knew they could speak freely, Vincent said, "It seems we've been reduced to untruths to cover our tracks."

"Untruths about what?"

"I saw no evidence of a nightmare before Jamie arrived," he teased.

"The nightmare was after Jamie arrived," she smiled. "It happened when I imagined Jamie arriving ten minutes earlier. All three of us would have been mortified, and you and I would have had very few secrets left. Only five minutes earlier and Jamie would have had the answer to every question she might ever have had about your anatomy."

"Another disconcerting thought," Vincent said, remembering a similar conversation from the weekend before.

"Even the middle of the night isn't safe anymore unless we announce our intentions," Catherine complained. "I don't want to announce our intentions. This belongs to us."

"There are only two solutions," Vincent answered.

"I'm afraid to ask," Catherine responded, already knowing what they were.

"We either allow everyone to know, or we stop until we are marr