(This story is written strictly for the free enjoyment of fans of the "Beauty and the Beast" television series. No copyright infringement is intended.)

Away

by Angie

If all the year were playing holidays,

To sport would be as tedious as to work;

But when they seldom come, they wish’d for some.

- William Shakespeare

Chapter 1

Catherine found herself a little annoyed at Vincent – or perhaps it was Father – or maybe it was the whole tunnel community.

She shouldn’t – and didn’t - complain. Much of what she had hoped had come to pass. The brownstone next door was now in regular use. They had shifted a lot of the community amenities to it from their own, to give themselves more privacy. There were self-defense classes for the sentries, a well-equipped clinic where Father could see special patients, or perform procedures difficult to do Below. Even a hospital room. There were rooms where students from Below could stay while they attended colleges, and each house had its own private garden.

She and Vincent had kept their own spacious suite in the attic and with little Jacob now getting active, it was nice to have more room to themselves.

The problem was that, although Vincent always got home in time for dinner and stayed the night, he was up early and spent very little time at home during the day. Something always happened Below that needed his muscle or his brain - and kept him there for most of the day.

Catherine couldn’t miss the irony of the situation. For over two years, she had lived Above and visited Below only on weekends. Vincent had never complained, although parting from her after they had become intimate had been difficult on both of them. When she had finally quit her job after becoming pregnant and become a permanent part of the community, she and Vincent had finally had a happy life together - except that it seemed less together than ever.

Catherine had created the Foundation and taken over the management of it in the brownstone’s office, but the work meant either bringing baby Jacob along, or taking him Below to the nursery. There were always lots of willing babysitters, but she felt a bit annoyed that this had fallen on her to arrange. It shouldn’t always be necessary, she reasoned. She didn’t want Vincent to take Jacob Below and leave him in the nursery either. Their son was an active 18 months old, speaking in gobbledygook and investigating everything. She had to watch him every second. Surely the community could spare Vincent some time with his son during the day.

That said, Vincent was a wonderful father, just as she had known he would be. He had been around almost constantly for many months after the baby was born – refused to be parted from them, in fact. On laundry days, they had both gone Below, although Father would not allow Catherine to participate in the hard labour because she was breast-feeding Jacob.

Gradually, responsibilities from Below had intruded more frequently. Although Vincent tried to be around as often as he could, he could not refuse to help when emergencies arose, as they seemed to do with great regularity. That these emergencies were often potentially dangerous as well, worried Catherine more than a little.

Then Catherine realized the only solution possible. They had to go away from the community for a time, and let everyone find ways to adjust to their absence. A holiday – that’s what they needed!

The more she thought about it, the more Catherine realized how much she missed being somewhere different, if only once a year for a few days. Arranging it was going to take a lot of planning. This time, she would not let Father or anyone else discourage her and Vincent – and the baby too - from a well-deserved vacation. Vincent needed to be with them - so therefore he would be. Deep in her heart, she also hoped they would be able to get away more often, that wherever she found would allow them this indulgence.

Connecticut, she decided, was no longer practical. It was too far to take the baby and really, there had to be someplace closer and easier to reach that was safe for them all. She no longer wanted complete isolation, either. Vincent deserved as normal a vacation as possible.

She wracked her brain for a solution, but every one she considered had problems. She didn’t want to confide in Elliot because she didn’t trust him not to be curious and she didn’t want to lie to him. Joe and Jenny were expecting their first child. Devin and Charles were somewhere on the other side of the country and Nancy seemed always to have a house full of extended family. Plus, she hadn’t yet introduced her friend to Vincent. Somehow, the time never seemed right.

Well, how difficult could it be? Catherine believed in letting knotty problems rest. Sooner or later they solved themselves. This would too. She just hoped it would do so before she went crazy.

As soon as she concentrated on her daily routine, the solution presented itself, almost in its entirety, perfect and elegant. It emerged from a quite unexpected quarter. Not surprisingly, it was from someone who already knew Vincent and the tunnel community well. Catherine would have looked among her family Below first, but she had assumed that no one there would have the answer. After all, she didn’t want a holiday below ground, but in the open air and sunshine like other people. Few in the community left the tunnels, except for short trips to scavenge or collect shipments from helpers. Most of the helpers never left the city either.

She had forgotten that there were exceptions – and who knew them best.

Later, Catherine couldn’t remember why she had gone to see William. He had always been a sympathetic ear and enjoyed teaching her basic cooking techniques. He and Vincent were good friends and were always playing practical jokes on each other – small harmless things that only they would know about. On this particular visit, William had thanked her for the regular supply of fresh herbs they grew in the brownstone’s garden and made a crack about cats basking in the sun as the reason Vincent loved gardening so much. He was only half-kidding. Although Vincent tended the garden with great care and dedication – between other duties - he also liked to relax on the bench in a shady nook and nap. Catherine wasn’t sure if he purred because he always woke up when she approached – but she wouldn’t have been surprised.

Catherine wistfully commented that it was time her family got some real sunshine and fresh air - on a holiday. William had grown silent for a minute and then looked at her. He had realized immediately that she wasn’t joking, for which she was grateful.

"Catherine, how does a farm vacation sound to you?"

Catherine had stared at him in amazement.

"William, that would be wonderful. But where? And how?"

William pulled her into his office and made her sit down. Then he poured them both a cup of tea from a pot he kept on his desk. It was lukewarm, but Catherine hardly tasted it. She looked at William and wondered why she had never thought of him before. Of course he knew a lot of topsiders! All the milk, cream and bulk vegetables they ate came from Above, and a lot of it from a farm. She knew that, but had thought no more about it. That was an Above habit, and those died hard, she berated herself.

William seemed to sense her self-reproach and smiled.

"Catherine, I’ve lived here for many years. I’ve had to learn the procedure for ordering food and the logistics of getting it down here. Why would you question the method or the source?

"As it happens, I have a sister with a large farm in New Jersey. She supplies a lot of what we need and we send crews out to help her plant, weed and harvest. It’s not hard to get to because our special tunnel actually ends beneath a small brick storage building that used to belong to the local farmers’ co-op. She owns it and the land it sits on. We extended the tunnel to it a few years ago, when we realized that the little grocery stores in the city couldn’t possibly supply us with enough fresh produce and dairy products, without risking bankruptcy.

"Anyhow, my sister’s is almost the last working farm left, but it’s protected from development because of a small lake used by migratory birds and some very rare trees. When she dies, the property will become a State conservation area. But in the meantime, all you have to do is get there. She’ll meet you at the building and take you all in her delivery van to the farm. She has a couple of small cottages used by our tunnel farm workers. No one will bother you and she’d be happy to have you. She’ll make sure there’s food in your cabin, but if you want to join her for meals, she would probably like the company. She’s a great cook.

"She met Vincent once, after we extended the tunnel. He was part of the work party. I’ll let him tell you about that. I write letters to her often, so she knows most of the news. She’ll be keen to meet Vincent again – as well as you and baby Jacob."

Catherine’s mind was awhirl and she deliberately dampened her emotions. She didn’t want Vincent to know about this yet. There were still details to work out and she liked the idea of springing it on him as a surprise.

"William, I’m amazed! That sounds perfect for us. We could help her around the farm too. Vincent in his gardening get-up wouldn’t even get a second glance, even if anyone else were around. He gets sunburned. He has to keep covered.

"When can you get word to your sister?"

William was grinning broadly now.

"I’ll be collecting some root vegetables from her in three days. I’ll send a message with the crew. I’d like to go myself, but my … um … girth makes that kind of trip too tiring. Even if they could push me on the cart to get there, I’d still have to walk back. It is a long way. You’ll need three days at least, but there are well-stocked way stations. I’ll make sure the crews lay in extra provisions. They’ll be leaving tomorrow."

He sighed good-naturedly.

"Kipper or one of the others can pass a message along to my sister – whose name is Agatha, by the way. When would you like to go? We’ll have another crew going out in about 9 days, you could go the next day."

Catherine thought about that. It was late April now and there was no time like the present. She figured she could make all the necessary preparations in that time and told William so.

"Right then – a week from next Monday suit you?" he asked.

"Perfect," Catherine smiled. She got up and walked around the desk, giving him a kiss on his pudgy cheek and a hug.

"You don’t know how much this means to me, William."

"Oh, I think I do," he remarked, a serious look in his eyes. "I remember when you wanted to take Vincent to Connecticut, the fuss some people made. Later, we talked it out in Council and there were some guilty faces. By that time, it was too late. Vincent’d had a dream, or something. He never mentioned it again, but it has stuck in my craw ever since. He should be able to have a holiday with his family Above. I know it would mean a great deal to him. This is as safe as anyone could wish – and I’ll say so to Father and the others."

Catherine patted William on the shoulder.

"I don’t think that will be necessary this time, but your voice might be needed when everyone realizes Vincent is not at their beck and call."

"I’ll be happy to bellow appropriately, Catherine. Depend on it."

…

Catherine began to make her plans and gather the clothing and other things they would need – including a supply of cloth diapers. Jacob was over a year old, but still had occasional accidents when he got too excited to use a toilet. She made a visit to Annabelle, their seamstress, to see if some light cotton coveralls could be found for all of them. Father called them boiler suits, but they were Vincent’s favourite outdoor garment and his son liked them too. She might as well join the team. It would soon be too hot for Vincent’s combination underwear, especially out in the open.

Annabelle, predictably, gave her a big hug and declared their vacation was long overdue. The dwarf was grinning from ear to ear as she showed Catherine a box of soft, generously-sized, pale blue cotton coveralls that must have been uniforms. There was a logo of some kind on the breast pocket, but it was one she didn’t recognize. No matter. Annabelle promised to cover up the thin spots at knees and elbows with traditional tunnel wear patches and get several of appropriate various sizes to them in the next few days.

"Now you make sure that wonderful man has a holiday to remember."

"Oh, you can depend on that," Catherine said as she hugged the tiny woman.

Catherine’s happiness soon infected Vincent and she had to tell him what she was doing. Surprisingly, he made no comments at all, just nodded. When she asked him why, he looked a bit sheepish.

"My love, William is a poor keeper of secrets. He mumbles to himself in his kitchen."

Catherine confessed that she never paid much attention. Vincent grinned.

"That is how William spreads information. He never uses the pipes. He knows when someone is nearby and pretends to be talking to his utensils. I felt your happiness after you left him, and since I am naturally curious, I went to the kitchen. He told the stock pot everything.

"William knows that a community needs to keep informed of the small things, as well as the larger ones Pascal’s crew passes along. I heard everything he thought I should know. I’m sure I was not the only one. It must be all through the tunnels by now."

Vincent’s mouth twitched again. "I remember Agatha. She laughed when she first saw me, that one time. Of all the initial reactions, that was the oddest. I asked her why, after I got up the nerve, and she said that she never expected to see a cross between Aslan and the Scarecrow. I had to laugh too. Her laugh is infectious. You have civilized me somewhat, Catherine, but I think Agatha could still find me a bit comical."

Catherine put her arms around him and hugged him tight.

"Nonsense, Vincent. You aren’t comical. She saw through your appearance and recognized you for what you are, a man with both Aslan’s nobility and the great heart the Scarecrow sought and eventually found. I like her already. I think we’re going to enjoy this vacation."

Whether because William had actually done some public relations work in the background, or because everyone remembered the last attempted vacation, there were no objections to the trip when it was announced by Father the next night at dinner. In fact, there were knowing smiles from many of the older women and many well wishes. Catherine was sure all the implications of their absence had not been taken into account, but she would never have said so. They had deliberately made their vacation period indefinite. Peter would take over the Foundation work while she was gone.

Chapter 2

They were packed and ready to depart. Jacob, still a little sleepy because it was very early, was tied in a sling to Vincent’s chest and everything else they needed was divided between two backpacks. The two adults were dressed in casual, stretch pants, because they needed mobility above all. They all wore soft, tunnel-made footwear. Vincent insisted on wearing his cloak and Catherine had put on a long, hooded, denim coat. It would be chilly on the trip. Jacob was wearing denim dungarees, the kind with snaps around the inner leg and crotch, and a windbreaker.

They had decided to travel quickly for a few hours, then have breakfast at a sentry post before continuing on to the way station where they would spend their first night. They would not push themselves, but they had to make steady progress in order to get to the warehouse on the third day. They could call Agatha from a telephone when they got there.

Catherine, who always found the distances below ground more challenging than those Above, found the concept of three days of tunnel travel unimaginable. She had never been more than a couple of hours from the home hub at any time – except when she had been abducted by Paracelsus. She didn’t remember much of the journey down, but the return journey had been pleasant, alone with Vincent.

The first leg of the journey was more strenuous than Catherine had expected. She was out of shape, she realized belatedly. She no longer trekked around the city or carried anything for long distances. She hadn’t pedal-operated the tunnel’s infamous washing machines on laundry day for almost two years. When Vincent called a halt at their first stop, after three hours or so of walking, she was ready to sit down. These were nice straight, even-floored tunnels. Whatever would she be like when the going got rougher? They shuffled into the small stone room used by the sentries and Vincent took out a flask of sweet fruit juice. Tea, he told her, would just make her dehydrated and she needed the energy boost.

She looked around. She had never been inside one of these before. There weren’t many sentry posts out this far, she knew, and most of those were now unused. This far from the hub, there was not even an entrance to the world Above for miles. Irregular patrols kept an eye on possible trouble spots, but these days, everyone agreed Mouse’s early warning system of pressure plates and bells was the best defense. He and Jamie checked the various connections regularly.

Vincent sat on a wooden seat against the wall and let Jacob onto the floor. Catherine sat on her husband’s lap and let his hug relax her. Jacob quickly wanted to be part of the hug and she lifted him up onto her lap. Their joint bond hummed with mutual contentment.

Their son, though, was too restless to stay there long and wriggled down. Catherine sighed and rooted in the knapsack. They ate some oat muffins spread with peach jam. Jacob was running around the little room before his parents finished, babbling in his own secret language, and examining every rock and cranny.

Vincent got them all on the move again quickly, for the next leg was longer. Catherine had sympathy for her husband, who she was sure could have done the distance in half the time. He had to shorten his stride, first for herself and then for Jacob, who insisted on trotting along with them every so often.

Four hours later they reached the remote sentry station that was their goal for the day, and found it clean and supplied with several cots, lots of blankets and pillows, and a crate of supplies William had sent with the last crew the day before. Vincent immediately got to work making a fire in the stone pit, which had been placed under a pipe conduit for ventilation.

"This is the last pipe that connects to home," Vincent remarked. "If we have any trouble, it is a two day trek from the warehouse, even for me."

"Well, I don’t expect we’ll need to put it to the test," Catherine declared, hoping that she was right and crossing her fingers superstitiously. This vacation had to be flawless or there would never be another.

"I will send them a ‘hail and farewell’ now, though," Vincent said with a slight smile. "Father will want to know we made it this far."

Catherine said nothing to this, merely listened to the tapping of the short code and reflected that it would be strange to be out of range of that communication system. Vincent, she knew, listened to it with one ear all the time – as did everyone Below. She blanked the sounds out, largely. If her own name or Vincent’s was used, she always knew. That much had become habit.

Vincent made them some scrambled eggs, sausages and tomatoes for supper, liberally extended with some toasted bread. Catherine had seldom felt so hungry – and they weren’t even outside yet! Jacob nearly inhaled his portion and was obviously tired afterwards.

Vincent pulled out a poetry book, "A little Treasury of Modern Verse", and opening it at random, began to read John Masefield’s I Could Not Sleep for Thinking of the Sky.

Catherine and Jacob listened entranced. Vincent’s voice was magical, soft and seductive. It barely echoed in the cavern, as if the rocks were listening too. She felt her eyes droop and then Vincent found another poem, this time by Ezra Pound. She felt joy in her breast as he read.

"Sing we for love and idleness,

Naught else is worth the having.

Though I’ve been in many a land,

There is naught else in living.

And I would rather have my sweet,

Though rose-leaves die of grieving,

Than do high deeds in Hungary

To pass all men’s believing."

Vincent stopped and sighed. Without further ado, he removed the mattresses from two cots and they bedded down on the floor, Jacob between them. At first, Catherine could not sleep, then she realized why. For the first time in the tunnels, she couldn’t hear the tapping of pipes in the background. With that thought she fell asleep, Vincent’s feet entwined around her own, his arms surrounding both herself and their son. It was comfort that they all seemed to need at the start of this new adventure.

The next day, Vincent made tea and toasted bread and cheese on a makeshift grill over the fire pit. They left as soon as they had tidied up the station, dumping all their garbage down the waste hole. It had a heavy iron grate and lid which had thwarted Jacob’s curiosity quite effectively.

The tunnels became rougher. Although the floor had been kept smooth and wide enough for the passage of the wagons, the tunnel sides were rough and uneven. They were heading downwards gradually and she realized they had to go under a river if they were heading west. Every so often they would emerge into a broader area that looked like it had melted. She realized that these must have been carved by giant whirlpools and wondered where all the water had gone.

"Are these tunnels safe, Vincent?"

"Yes. They were carved by fast water, millennia ago, but the streams have changed their courses many times. Now they are far below us. We will run across the odd steam vent, though, even here. The geothermal springs run under all of New Jersey. We were lucky to be able to tap into this network to get to the warehouse."

"Where are the sewer lines?" Catherine asked. She suddenly realized she had never seen, or smelled, any sign of what must be a very large system under New York.

"They are far above and near the surface, under the roads. They do not come near our network of tunnels. They empty into large conduits far away. Our sewage system Below is self-contained."

After a short stop for lunch, they moved on quickly. Jacob was content to ride in the sling on Vincent’s chest. He didn’t like the close, lumpy darkness and clung to one or the other of them if he was let down. Vincent’s lantern cast the only light.

Catherine found her stride and began to enjoy the exercise. By the time they stopped for the day, several hours later, she was feeling less exhausted, although quite hungry. The resting place was a wide, but fairly low cavern. There were wooden pallets arranged for beds and lots of blankets, even cooking utensils. A nearby rivulet had good water and they drank thirstily. Vincent made a hearty lentil, tomato and sausage stew from supplies William has left them. They ate it all between them. Vincent heated a much larger pot of water and using an old galvanized tub in the corner, they all had a sponge bath. Then they fell into their joint bed and were asleep in minutes.

The next day, they expected to reach their destination, so they set out early, determined to reach their goal before they stopped. Vincent was sure that they need not hurry, so they strolled along, one behind the other. The tunnels were narrow, but high enough even for Vincent, and well-ventilated. Some daylight seeped through in places to everyone’s delight. Jacob walked just ahead of them when it was bright enough, babbling to himself. Finally, just as Catherine was beginning to feel she’d had enough, they rounded a corner into a very large chamber with a ladder at one end. There were empty pallets, bushel baskets and crates waiting for the next shipment of produce. The place was clean and tidy. Against one wall was a battered line of old lockers, without doors. Within each was a coverall of indefinite hue. One huge bin seemed to be full of rubber boots, and another of hats.

"When the crew comes to help Agatha in the fields, they leave their tunnel clothing here and wear the coveralls," Vincent explained.

He walked over to the ladder and asked Catherine to wait. He clambered up hand-over-hand and she saw a trap door open into brilliant light. It was blinding where it fell on the floor of the cavern. Vincent reappeared quickly and he called down.

"You can come up now. Agatha’s truck is coming down the road. She must have guessed our travel time."

Or someone phoned her, Catherine thought – probably after that last pipe message.

She put Jacob on the ladder and supported him from behind. The steps were a little far apart for his short legs, so she had to give him a boost at every rung. Vincent reached down and caught the straps of his dungarees to lift him up as he neared the top, to his whoop of delight. Catherine sighed in relief and got herself up. Their son was getting heavy and she was very tired!

The building was made of concrete blocks and had two narrow windows looking down a long dusty lane. It held stacks of smaller baskets and crates. Catherine looked out to see a battered blue delivery van rumbling closer, a cloud of dust behind it. Jacob was jumping up and down and babbling happily.

Vincent seemed a bit tense, but hugged Catherine when she went to him. This would be his first trip away from the tunnels – or the city. She couldn’t imagine what that must feel like. She had a few butterflies in her stomach herself, just from the anticipation.

"How is it you never went to her farm before?" Catherine asked him.

"It was winter and very cold with a lot of snow here. We were happy to be below ground. We were all tired when we were done and slept in that storage room below for a night and a day. Agatha brought us food and we started back home the following night."

Vincent looked out the window. The van stopped just outside and a strong-looking, grey-haired woman jumped down and approached the building. She waved at them and unlocked the door. Vincent stood back as Agatha entered and looked around. She immediately went to Catherine and hugged her. She smelled of hay and fragrant herbs. Her hair was tied into a long ponytail and she was wearing dungarees and rubber boots.

"You must be Catherine. Welcome!"

With a mischievous smile and a wink at Catherine, she walked over to Vincent and regarded him with her head on one side for a few moments. He stood stoically and said nothing.

"Well, you’ve certainly improved with age, Vincent. Marriage must agree with you. You look too noble to be a clod-busting field hand, though. Maybe I can introduce you to my cows and goats. They are getting quite incorrigible because I spoil them. I suspect you will be able to talk some sense into them. I’ve heard stories."

Vincent looked at Agatha, who was almost his height, and nodded his head.

"Agatha, you look pretty good yourself – and you are certainly more fit than your brother. We are eager to see your farm. Can we go?"

"You bet, Vincent. Just gather your kith and kinder and climb into the back of the van. I put a couple of hay bales in there. We don’t have far to go."

Vincent lifted Catherine and Jacob into the back of the van and hauled himself in after the backpacks. Agatha closed the door. At least it had some light coming from the air vent in the roof, Catherine thought. She didn’t like traveling this way, but she supposed the farm crew had to as well.

The van moved with a shuddering motion along the rough road and they bounced around on the hay bales, despite the fact that Agatha was obviously going very slowly. The road must be all holes, Catherine thought, as a particularly large bump made her cling to Vincent’s arm. Jacob, sitting between them, was crowing and laughing at every bounce.

Finally the ride smoothed out, but only for a short time, and then they moved over a road Catherine had no problem calling washboard. She wondered if her teeth were going to rattle loose before the van finally came to a stop. The back door opened and all three of them staggered unsteadily to it.

Vincent jumped down and helped Catherine and Jacob to the ground. He looked around and took a deep breath. His joy at the new sensations was tangible. The fields were rich with the smell of turned earth and growing things. Agatha smiled as she looked at him and took Catherine’s arm.

"Come with me and I’ll take you to the cabin while your husband fills his lungs with good country air. You can have the one on the end. There’s a screened porch on it. You might like to sit out in the evening and it will protect you from any early mosquitoes."

Jacob ran on ahead. A chicken abruptly flew in front of him and he stopped so quickly he fell on his bottom. His face had crumpled by the time Catherine and Agatha reached him, but then a gaggle of geese honking nearby distracted him. He tried to run to them, but Catherine caught him and pointed at the cabin.

"Look Jacob. That’s our cottage!" Even she knew that geese could be nasty.

The cabin was in a copse of large maple trees and well-shaded. The screened porch, while not large, had enough room to bed down in. There was a hefty-looking rattan chair with big cushions. Inside, the cabin was one large room stuffed with old couches and a number of bunk beds. A nook on one side held a galley kitchen, boasting a stove, lots of cupboards and a sink. Agatha showed them a lead-lined hole under the sink, the cold-storage cupboard. A small curtained door on the other side of the room led to the bathroom, which had a shower, sink and toilet and a lot of towels and soap in a curtained cupboard. Another curtained nook was a small clothes cupboard. A big wood table with several mis-matched chairs stood near a large window looking down a grassy path. Catherine decided that would be her favourite spot. The view was serene. Agatha’s house could be seen out another, smaller window, dwarfed by a line of French poplars. A small window at the back of the cabin was open and a nice cross-draft was blowing through the already-warm cabin.

Catherine took a deep breath and felt Vincent’s arms around her. His voice was deep with happiness.

"I have never experienced so many wonderful things at once - the colours, the smells, the wind, the sunshine. Thank you, Agatha. I think I could spend a day just breathing."

Catherine turned to look at him and he planted a soft kiss on her lips that sent a shiver of desire along their bond, which boded well for later. Jacob trotted over and put his arms around their legs, burbling happily.

Agatha laughed suddenly.

"Well, with so much love and happiness around, I’d just get in the way. You just settle in and relax. However, I am planning to eat a good country dinner in about two hours. I’d like you all to join me. There’s no need for you to cook. I have lots of food and I like company. I taught William everything he knew about cooking before he left – although I’ll warrant he could teach me a few things these days.

"I’ll ring the gong when it’s time. There’s no clock in this cabin. The tunnel field hands get up with the sun and go to bed at dark when they’re here. I’m used to feeding a crowd – so bring your appetites."

She left and they watched her walk over to her house, taking long strides.

The sun was high and they were both warm, so they all took a shower in the bathroom. It was gravity fed from a big tank outside. It had been in the sun, so it was warm. Catherine was glad to have a real shower. They had it quickly, though, being unsure how much water was available.

Vincent pulled out one of the pale blue coveralls. Annabelle had inserted her gauze panels below the waist, so he didn’t need to wear underwear. He sighed but stood naked for a few minutes to dry off. There never seemed to be enough towels for him.

The coverall was loose and he looked magnificent, Catherine decided, when he finally buttoned it up. On the other hand, there was nothing he didn’t look good in, with his height and build.

Catherine put on her own coverall and decided she needed a t-shirt underneath. She too eschewed underwear.

Little Jacob was dressed in a pair of lighter coveralls because of the heat. They would have to wear hats outside, Catherine decided. None of them were used to a lot of sun.

Vincent gathered up his hair at the back and deftly tied a length of leather thong around it. He looked at Catherine sideways.

"Maybe I should cut my hair short for this vacation."

She whirled around and looked at him. She knew he was only half-serious, but she was at a loss for words for long moments. His hair! She had never seen it other than it was. What would he look like with short hair? Could it even be cut neatly? It was very thick.

"Vincent, I know you’re joking, but now you’ve got me curious. How long have you had your hair long?"

"Catherine I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t long. My hair has defined me almost as much as my other … differences. Father said I would never allow him to cut it. I don’t remember that, but I do know that it doesn’t grow any longer than it is now. I do try to trim it a little sometimes, but it’s impossible to keep neat. I suspect if I cut it short, it would just grow back to its current length, probably in record time."

"Well then, you should just tie it back, as you have." Catherine was firm. She loved his hair - all of it, especially in the sunshine. It was soft and rippled in golden waves. But certainly, if they did any farm work, he would want to keep it out of the way.

They sat down in an old porch swing tied between two maple trees in the yard with Jacob between them to keep him clean. It seemed no time at all before a loud metallic gong sounded. They walked to Agatha’s house and long before they reached it, delightful smells accosted them. Vincent sighed. Catherine’s stomach was rumbling and Jacob pulled on her arm to get her to move more quickly.

Agatha greeted them at her front door and led them into a big country dining room. She even had a high chair for Jacob that looked like it had seen long use. They all sat down and without further ado, tucked into a huge pot of buttered squash, slabs of tender beef and mashed potatoes. After that, Agatha brought out a huge apple crumble pie. Vincent and Jacob both had second helpings. Catherine rolled her eyes at Agatha, who laughed.

"Well, I think your men have fine appetites, my dear."

"These men would happily eat all day, if we let them," Catherine remarked, with only slight exaggeration. "Wait until they actually do some work around here. By the way, what do you need doing?"

Agatha smiled. "Well, it’s early yet, so everything is still growing. I won’t need the farm hands for another two weeks or so, when we start harvesting the early crops. Right now, it’s mostly weeding and thinning. I don’t worry about that too much, just try to keep any invasives out of my fields. I’ll show you what those are. I grow more than enough for myself and you folks in the tunnels, so I can have some wastage. But I do need someone to help with the livestock. There are quite a few young ones that need to be fed and watered. And I might find a repair or two to keep Vincent busy.

"But really, you are here to enjoy yourselves too. The chores usually take a couple of hours in the morning, less if we all work together. After that, you can wander about and do as you wish. The nearest neighbour’s several miles away. No one will visit me without calling first."

Vincent yawned hugely and Catherine realized they were all weary. They’d done a lot of walking. The sunshine and fresh air - to say nothing of eating a substantial meal - had them so relaxed that a nap would probably be in order. It was only late afternoon, but she wondered if their hostess would forgive them if they retired early.

Agatha smiled at them all.

"I think you all need to get acclimatized for a day or so. Country air always makes newcomers feel tired at first. You tunnel folk aren’t used to the heat either. There’s nothing here that needs immediate attention. Just before sundown, I’ll have a picnic basket of food for you. You’d probably like some time to yourselves. Just come over whenever you’re ready."

Catherine snapped to sudden attention, looking at the dirty dishes on the table.

"But we can’t leave you to clean up, Agatha. Let us help with the dishes at least."

Agatha laughed and then gave them both a broad smile.

"Well, if that don’t beat everything! I have a dishwasher, Catherine. It takes about two minutes to fill and then I push a button. Presto, clean dishes. It dries them too."

Catherine blushed and Vincent smiled. They had never bothered to put a dishwasher in the brownstone. They often ate Below, and when they didn’t, Catherine tended towards one-pot meals. Vincent did their dishes, although he had to wear rubber gloves. The dish detergent irritated his skin.

Agatha chuckled.

"You’ve been hanging around William too long. That man is still living in the Stone Age! Oh, I know you don’t have much electricity in the tunnels, but I think he takes delight in old-fashioned tools. Do you know he had me send him a gross of long wooden spoons last year? What does he do with them all?"

Vincent laughed then.

"Well, Agatha, you have not seen William for awhile. He needs longer and longer spoons to reach the stove around his ample belly."

Agatha broke out in gales of laughter so infectious, that they all joined in.

"Well, I’d never have guessed that! No wonder he doesn’t show up at the warehouse anymore. That brother of mine needs to go on a diet. I’ll tell him so in my next letter."

"That will have no effect," Vincent chuckled. "William believes a cook is what he eats. And he samples everything generously."

Catherine leaned against Vincent and captured Jacob, who looked as tired as she felt. Vincent looked down at her and then at Agatha.

"I think we all need a rest," Vincent commented. "Thank you for a marvelous meal, Agatha. But you’d better have some work to keep us fit after today, or you’ll have to roll us back into the tunnels."

Agatha smiled. "Oh, a farmer’s work is never done, don’t you know? But I hear you tunnel folk have pretty busy schedules too. You won’t find caves to carve or leaks to fix around here, though. Never mind, I think I’ll be able to keep you from getting bored. Have a nice rest now. See you later."

She herded them out the door and they shuffled back to their cabin. Wordlessly, they flopped down on a couple of mattresses pulled from the bunks onto the floor. Catherine had a weird sense of déjà vu – but was too tired to figure out why. Jacob lay between them and was asleep quickly. Catherine looked at Vincent and caught the banked ardour in his eyes and along their bond. They’d have to find a place for some lovemaking. Jacob would need afternoon naps, so perhaps they could find a quiet spot. They’d never made love outdoors. She leaned closer to Vincent and their lips met with a promise. Then they both drifted off to sleep.