Routine

Angie

Sow an act and you reap a habit
Sow a habit and you reap a character
Sow a character and you reap a destiny

- Charles Reade

Vincent sat in his big chair looking out the window in the attic room that had become his favourite place during the day. The chair was one Catherine had found in an antique shop and was even more elaborate than the one in his chamber Below. He loved it because it was big enough that he could put a foot on the seat and relax in it.

It had become necessary that he be able to relax. He sometimes felt as if he were an old-time telephone operator with too many plugs to place in the board. His bond with his wife and children sometimes left him little space for any other thoughts.

The 11 year-old twins were the most challenging. His bond with them was very strong, and he knew that the one between them was even stronger. They never left Below, were happiest there, and were inseparable. But they could find mischief in places he would not have dreamed. He had to monitor them, and warn them strongly along the bond when their ebullience got out of hand. At the moment they were attending a lecture Below and were relatively subdued – probably bored. Vincent sighed. They had been better behaved in recent weeks and he dared hope that they were over their "terrible twins" period and had learned some restraint from their older brother Jacob, whom they revered with something akin to hero worship.

It was late spring and the air was so clear he could see across the city. Every rooftop and building seemed to be limned in the magical, golden light of late afternoon. He half-expected an elaborate airship or Flying Dutchman to drift over the horizon. But the reality of that city was now more apparent to him than ever before.

He always sat here when Catherine and Jacob were out on business for the Foundation she had set up for the tunnel community. Since their son had joined her, Vincent had gained a new perspective on the world Above. His bond with Catherine was strong, but that with Jacob even more so, and slightly different. He could feel them both at the same time while they were in meetings. Catherine’s was almost steely at these times, albeit inside a velvet glove. Jacob was younger, less experienced and therefore less restrained. His emotions told Vincent a great deal more about the challenges he and his mother faced with social workers, street people and various municipal agencies.

Catherine had insisted that this business be done outside the brownstone. It was conducted at an office she had renovated from Peter Alcott’s old clinic. He had given it to her when he retired. Since it was within walking distance of the brownstone, Catherine had gratefully accepted it.

Vincent had never felt so close to the world he could never roam in daylight. It enthralled him and he couldn’t pull himself away from its daylight aspect while two people he loved were so engaged in it.

He knew suddenly that they were finished for the day because he felt their relief and sense of a job well done. He rose from his chair and embarked on the second part of his routine, filling the big bathtub in their suite and preparing himself for the homecoming.

He heard Catherine come in with Jacob. Vincent knew his son would be going Below to collect the twins for dinner. It had been decided that they would cook tonight, and no doubt they would be bringing some mouth-watering dessert back from William’s kitchen.

Catherine almost ran up the stairs and he felt her excitement as she went into their bedroom. The steel was gone, shucked off with her coat, to be replaced by the soft happiness of the woman he loved.

This too was part of the routine. He knew she was undressing and putting on the long soft dressing gown he loved. Then he felt her eager approach and he rose from the chair, loosening his own robe as he turned to the door. She ran in and was in his embrace at a thought, pulling his head down for a kiss. He sighed as they parted to breathe. He never tired of her kisses and ached for her while she was gone. That had not changed over the years. He knew she felt his longing and matched it with her own.

Their bond was shimmering with what they had come to regard as a joint purr of unleashed joy. Catherine leaned her head against his chest, her arms around him, rubbing his back, while his hands massaged the tension from her shoulders. Suddenly, she stopped, realizing belatedly, that she should tell him her news.

"Vincent, Jacob was wonderful. It was like having you at a meeting. He was so calm and quiet, yet such a big presence that everyone was well-behaved. We got more accomplished than I expected."

"Catherine, I’m glad. He will soon be able to take over some of your duties and leave you more time to relax. I felt his happiness today. He enjoyed himself."

"Yes, Vincent. Our son has become what we hoped. A man of both worlds and a slave to neither. I’m so proud of him. I will be giving some of my work to him - and this is precisely where I want to relax. Although … you don’t look very relaxed, my love."

Catherine was looking down at the evidence and gave him a look that sent sparks along their bond.

He gathered her to him, their gowns now lying around their feet and nothing impeding their growing arousal. He never failed to thrill at the touch of her body against his.

"Catherine, if you wanted me relaxed, you would not arrive here in a state of half-undress. Shall we to our bower go - or would right here suit you?"

"Oh here, please," whispered Catherine.

Vincent swept her into his arms and carried her to the fake bearskin that had become their favourite trysting place. There he re-affirmed his love for her in the way she loved best. Afterwards, she lay atop him, nuzzling a nipple as he stroked her bottom, purring. She looked him in the eyes as he turned to her.

"You know, Vincent, we have become creatures of routine. On those days when I have to go out for business, I come home, undress, and find you here waiting patiently for me. I feel guilty."

"Surely not guilty, Catherine. I don’t sense that at all. And as for our routine, well perhaps it should be changed a little."

He flipped her over and began an exploration that sent shivers along her length, while arousing himself again. They made love in slow, mutual adoration.

They fell into a short nap, which ended when they heard the sounds of their children clumping up the basement stairs. Vincent picked up their mother and carried her to their big tub. There they washed with great deliberation, all the while keeping an inner ear on the excitement building in the kitchen.

Catherine smiled as they dried and dressed for dinner. "You were right, Vincent. It wasn’t guilt I was feeling. Whatever it was, I think you cured it. But only for today. Routines are important and must be followed meticulously. And they must lead to satisfactory outcomes."

"You sound like a factory manager, Catherine. Am I just another boring, inflexible routine in the production line? That last sound’s like a threat!"

For an answer, she fondled that part of him that rose above all routines and pulled his head down to kiss him on the lips when his automatic growl rumbled under her hand.

"Oh, that’s a promise, Vincent. But no routine could be more welcome – and the outcome is always highly satisfactory."

Vincent groaned.

‘ Sow an act and you reap a habit;
Sow a habit and you reap a character
Sow a character and you reap a destiny’

But I think you’ve sown an act then skipped straight to a destiny," he remarked.

"Imagine quoting Reade to me at such a time!" Catherine berated him. "Well, you are the only habit I want," she whispered. "And as for character, if we could only sow yours in our twins, I would be happy."

There was a double yell and a definite sense of mischief from the kitchen and they both felt sudden frustration from Jacob.

"I think our first sown act needs a little help with the second," Vincent remarked.

"Let’s hope they reap other than what they usually sow," she sighed as they went downstairs.

END