Two of a Kind
Part 17
by Rosemarie Hauer

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Vincent awoke as the first dim light of dawn streaked the sky. Catherine's head was resting on his shoulder, and he dared not move for fear of waking her. The whole scene was of a dreamlike quality, and yet every cell of his body knew that all of it was real. Never in his entire life had there been a more exquisite sensation than holding Catherine in his arms, her naked body warm and slightly damp against his, sated and relaxed from their lovemaking.

Their lovemaking! The thought was all but inconceivable for him, and the memory of her loving him, eagerly and passionately, sent ripples of excitement across his skin. Losing himself in her had filled him with the most delicate sweetness, the likes of which he would never have dreamt possible.

Shifting slightly, he stole a glance at Catherine's face as she lay sleeping in the gradually brightening morning light that filled the room. The mouth of the cave faced south, so there was no hope of direct sunlight to graze her skin and hair, but even in the more indirect light of the dawning day outside, Catherine's beauty took his breath away. Ignoring the subtle stirring of his body, he continued to just gaze at her silently, unwilling to make the slightest movement, lest he disturb her much-needed sleep.

Suddenly her lids fluttered open, and the light in her eyes radiated into him, enchanting him, warming him.
"We were flying," she said, smiling, "and it was not a dream."

There was something in her words that called out to him, evoking a distant memory somewhere in the recesses of his mind. "I remember," he said, sitting up excitedly.

"You do?" she teased fondly, but he remained serious.

"I remember telling you that I dreamed I was flying, that morning after..." he paused, searching for words but finding none. "I had thought of it as a dream, back then."

Catherine rose on her knees beside him, pulling the blanket about her bare shoulders. "And now you see that it wasn't any of your drug-induced hallucinations either," she said smugly.

"No," he replied with a pensive shake of his head, "it was real." A shiver ran through him as he became aware of the chilly morning air on his naked skin. She opened the blanket to take him in and warm him with her body. A thought formed in his mind as he encircled her lithe form with his arms to pull her to him more tightly.

"Last night," he said, "when we were making love, something within me was freed, and when we joined our bodies, I completely forgot my differences. I forgot what I am."

Rubbing his back with her small hands, she remarked casually, "You know, Vincent, I'd rather say it was during those moments that you knew with absolute clarity who you really are."

He tilted his head, silently gazing at her for long, intense seconds. Would she ever cease to amaze him? Leaning toward her, he took her lips in a kiss that left them both breathless and trembling.

As much as he loathed the thought of releasing her, he knew that he had to pull back or he would never be able to let her go. "Soon," he promised huskily, feeling her resistance as he tried to put some distance between their shaking bodies. "There is enough light for our ascent now. We must go."

Catherine nodded but didn't move. So he pushed himself to his feet and, very much aware of her eyes on him, bent to retrieve his clothing. Following his lead, she rose as well, and he couldn't help but stare at her in wonderment. Her smooth, pale skin was almost translucent, shimmering in the soft daylight that filtered in through the opening, and in her luminous eyes he could read her admiration for him, her love, and her barely concealed desire. Suddenly he needed to hold her one more time, to assure himself that she was not just a dream or a fantasy. She came willingly, eagerly into his arms, clinging to him as if she would drown the moment he let go of her.

"Catherine," he breathed into her hair, longing to hear her say his name as well.

She whispered it softly, the tone of her voice expressing all that she felt for him.

Only when she shivered in his arms did he become aware of his own chilled body, and he released her, stooping to hand her clothes. "Please hurry," he urged, "before you get a cold."

They dressed in silence, and after a quick breakfast he helped her gather her belongings, tying up and shouldering her backpack with determination.

"It's time," he said at last, glad that his voice sounded more certain than he was feeling.

Catherine hesitated for another moment. "Do you really have to walk all the way back?" she asked. "You could wait here until nightfall, and I'd come and get you with a van..."

Touching one finger to her lips to still her words, he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Catherine, but this way will be the best."

"You won't go back to seek out Paracelsus?" she finally asked gingerly.

"I won't," he promised. "You have my word."

With one last look into his eyes, she tore her gaze from his and turned toward the opening. "Is this where we go out?"

With a short nod of his head, he preceded her to the edge of the cave, and they both looked out at the boundless sea. "This is incredible," she said with awe.

He would have loved to tell her about the first time he had been here with his brother, about the freedom he had experienced, if only for a moment. But he knew there was no time. So he just indicated the barely visible path they would have to follow, pointing out possible dangers, and explaining how she could best avoid them. "I will climb right behind you," he assured her, "and if you get too tired or think you cannot manage, I will carry you on my back."

He didn't have to carry her, though. She was quite capable of making her way up the rocky wall by her own strength. Her deftness surprised him, and once more he marveled at her fortitude and perseverance.
Supporting her as she pulled herself up over the edge of the cliff, he remained behind. She held out one hand for her pack, and he handed it up to her.

"Be well, Catherine," he said quietly.

"And you, Vincent," came her murmured reply, and the tremor in her voice betrayed the tears that she was trying hard not to cry.

He resisted the temptation to pull himself up in order to look after her. Instead he turned and slowly made his way back down to the cave. Leaning against the rough wall, he closed his eyes to reach out for her through the bond that connected them, and was reassured by the fierce determination that he felt in her. But there was a trace of sadness as well, mirroring and enhancing his own.

Why was he suddenly experiencing such a sense of loss? Would he ever be able to breathe again when she was not near?

What a price to pay for challenging the sun, he thought, for defying the heat in search of the light, only to find himself blinded when he had to open his eyes to his own gloomy world again. Wiping a tear from his face, he began his preparations for his long walk home.