Two of A Kind
Rosemarie Hauer

Final Chapter

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Night had come and the pipes had grown quiet as Vincent strolled down the corridor towards the study. Catherine was long peacefully asleep in one of the guest chambers, and he smiled, remembering how much she had enjoyed being tucked in by him. The strain of the last couple of days had taken its toll on her, and she had fallen asleep almost immediately.

Father and Peter looked up from their game of chess as Vincent entered.

"Ah, Vincent, there you are," Father greeted him. "How is Catherine?"

"Tired but well," Vincent replied, pulling up a chair and joining them at the table. "Have you told Peter yet about what Catherine found out in Chicago?" he asked Father.

"In fact," Father admitted guiltily, "we have been discussing it."

"So, what do you think?" Vincent addressed Peter. "How can it be that two apparently normal people suddenly have a child with animal features?"

Peter gave a helpless shrug. "I don't know, Vincent. All I can say is that after what we learned about Amy's descent we may safely assume that your ancestors were completely normal people too."

Steepling his fingers, Vincent mulled that over for a while. He had been speculating on this matter practically all his life, thinking that his very humanity depended on answers that eluded him. Now that those answers were within his reach, he realized how little they mattered after all. They were only concepts, only words. He and Amy had survived because someone had taken them in and loved them. That was all that counted in the end.

Peter's voice intruded upon his thoughts. "We tend to forget that humans are creatures whose roots lie in the animals," he pointed out. "We find ourselves at the tip of the branches of an immense tree of life, a tree that has been developing and growing ever more diverse over a period of four billion years. It is difficult to locate the place and the time that our branch separated from the rest of the tree. Look at the development of a human fetus. It goes through the entire specter of evolution. Would it be so very surprising if certain attributes became dominant and popped up from time to time? We've been told about various forms of atavism all over the world. People with rudimentary tails, people with dense fur over their entire body. Why not people with feline qualities?"

Vincent had been listening to Peter's attempt at an explanation attentively, and when the older man fell silent, he leaned forward to direct a final question at him. "How great do you think is the probability that there are two of a kind within one span of life, within the same city?"

"It's next to non existent, I'm afraid," Peter said with a rueful smile.

Father had listened to all that in silence, and when Vincent turned his eyes on him, he reached out across the table, giving his son's large hand a wordless squeeze. With a slow and deliberate expelling of breath, Vincent allowed a smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. The look that passed between father and son was one of deep affection and understanding.

There was no need for further words.

"Thank you, Peter," was all Vincent said before he rose from the chair and turned to leave.

*

It was long past midnight when, deeply in thought, Vincent left the study and headed for his chamber. Where the corridor that led to the guest chambers branched off, he paused, casting a wistful look down the dimly lit tunnel. Suddenly his longing to see Catherine, if only for an instant, became so overwhelming that, almost involuntarily, he directed his steps toward the chamber in which she lay sleeping.

His hypersensitive eyes swept the room, coming to rest on the unmoving form upon the large bed. She lay on her left side, facing him, and for a while he simply stood and watched the soft rise and fall of her shoulder, before squatting down beside the bed to get a better look at her relaxed features. There was barely any light to see by, aside from the faint flickers of the torches in the corridor outside, but for Vincent it was enough to trace the contours of her face with adoring eyes. He ran his gaze down the curve of her neck and along her arm to her slender hand, which she had tucked beneath her cheek. Reining in the impulse to reach out and touch her, he remembered that his behavior was entirely unacceptable, and he shifted his weight in order to rise to his feet. Suddenly Catherine turned onto her back, and he started, bumping against the nightstand to his right. She sat up abruptly, blinking with the effort to pierce the gloominess around her.

"Vincent?" she called out anxiously, and he swiftly reached for the matches beside her bed to light a candle in order to dispel the darkness he knew she feared so much.

Unable to meet her gaze, he knelt down before her, embarrassment diminishing his usual eloquence considerably. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean to wake you. I just came by to... I only wanted to see..."

Quickly leaning up on her elbow, she extended her hand to touch a trembling finger to his mouth. "Shhh," she soothed, "I'm glad you came."

Rising from his uncomfortable position, he gingerly sat down on the edge of her bed. "It was inexcusable of me to interrupt your much needed sleep," he said quietly.

"In fact, I feel quite rested," she responded, sitting up and winding her arms around his neck.

Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes in panic as he felt his body's reaction to her nearness; to the warmth her body was radiating; to the softness that pressed against his chest, and when she tugged slightly, indicating for him to follow her down onto the bed, he went rigid in her arms. His heartbeat accelerated and his mind spun under the wealth of emotions he received through the bond.

"Catherine," he gasped helplessly. "Please..."

"I love you," she whispered in his ear. "Come..."

Breathing heavily, he tried to formulate a reply, an explanation why he thought this was neither the place nor the time, but she pulled his shirttails from the waistband of his trousers, pressing her palms against the heated skin on his waist, and suddenly there was nothing but sensation, leaving him unable to think or speak or do anything but return her caresses and passionate kisses. He covered her body with his more completely, taking care not to crush her beneath his great weight.

She looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire, and for some endless minutes he lay very still, savoring the throbbing intensity that came across the bond. But soon he could not refrain any longer from moving against her with small, pleading thrusts of his hips. Catherine lifted her head in search of his lips. Her kiss elicited a low moan from him, and his hand stole beneath the hem of her nightshirt, pushing it upward and finally pulling it off over her head. They freed each other from their remaining clothes, and then all Vincent could think of was how good it felt to hold her this tightly, to have her beneath him, ready to receive him, willing to give him everything. He made one last conscious effort to pull back, to slow down their headlong plunge into passion, knowing that everything would be over too quickly, should he continue to give himself up to her enticing caresses, her irresistible tenderness. But she encircled his waist with her legs, holding him firmly in place.

"Catherine," he gasped, struggling for words, "I want so much to love you, but slowly. This way I'm afraid, though..."

"Please don't hold back, Vincent," she whispered against his ear. "We both need each other so badly. Come..."

The tone of her voice caused him to raise his head and stare down into her eyes, which were wide and pleading. How had he ever found the strength to resist her? He breathed her name again, trailing soft kisses along her neck and jaw line before -- slowly, gently -- he joined his body to hers, and they moved as one.

This was heaven, and he was helpless to suppress the need to bury himself more deeply inside her, to thrust into her with increasingly powerful strokes. The soft cries and sighs of their ecstasy mingled like their shared breaths as they kissed over and over again. He didn't want it to end -- not yet -- but he could no longer withstand the waves of pleasure that surged through him and carried him away to a place of sheer beauty.

She quivered beneath him, and he moaned under the force of her climax that left her shaken and utterly vulnerable in his arms. Never before in his life had he been entrusted with anything nearly as fragile as her emotional state at that very moment. The rush of awe and tenderness that suffused him was almost like an ache in his soul as he cradled her against him reverently.

Slowly he rolled onto his back, bringing her with him without loosening the tight clasp of his arms around her body. There were no words, and none were needed, for her emotions reaching him through the bond matched his in every way. So he just continued to look up into her eyes, softened by languor and contentment, and it touched him deeply that it had been he who had put that expression on her face.

Her mouth came down for a tender, leisurely kiss, and when her lips finally released his, he tucked her head under his chin, gently stroking her hair. They lay together in silence, savoring each other's closeness for long, precious moments.

"I have been a fool," he said abruptly, and she flinched slightly at the sudden sound of his voice. Smiling, he gathered her close again, brushing a soothing kiss against her temple.

"What do you mean?" she inquired softly, nuzzling his throat.

"I've been indulging in self-importance," he replied simply. "How could I subject something as precious and pure as our love to other people's opinions?"

Instantly her head came up, and he met her questioning gaze steadfastly, thus conveying his newly found confidence more eloquently than if he had explained himself in so many words.

"I'm glad," she said solemnly. "Will you tell me, though, what brought on your change of mind?"

"I'm not sure," he answered. " I talked to Peter earlier, and it wasn't so much what he said, but rather the way his words affected me that made me see more clearly."

"So, how did his words affect you?" she prompted, never taking her gaze from his.

He briefly closed his eyes to gather his thoughts, and then, with a quick intake of breath, he looked at her again and began to speak, "While Peter was talking, my thoughts were drawn inward and focused on my life. I saw how it began, how it was made possible at all, and how it expanded to touch the lives of many others. I felt that this is what everybody's life is all about: coming into this world, being loved, and learning to give love in return." He paused, thinking how much he owed to the woman who was still lying atop him, warmly looking down on him, and waiting silently for him to continue. The smile he gave her trembled slightly under the enormity of the emotions that passed between them. Blinking back the sudden sting of tears, he continued, "People who give of their love plant seeds in other people's hearts, thus enabling them to love themselves, and others, and grow in the light of their love. That is what Father did for me -- and what you did for Amy."

"And what you did for me," she added softly, pressing her lips against his chest.

"What we've been doing for each other," he amended huskily, pulling her head closer yet to intensify the sensation of her caress. "Catherine," he gasped at last, "what we have been given, what lies ahead of us, is so overwhelming that I can hardly breathe when I try to imagine it."

"Then let's not imagine it," she said simply, shifting her weight to gain better access to his mouth, "but rather live it."

The bond was vibrant with her love as he turned and buried her beneath him, gently pressing her into the mattress. Passion and tenderness blended in perfect harmony as he released his hold on the bond, opening it to her, no longer afraid that it might scare or disturb her to receive him, all of him, even his most secret dreams and deepest needs. For he knew their time had come at last.
 
 

I never dared to reach for rainbows, for they cannot exist in my dark world where there is neither sun nor rain. But then you came and built a rainbow out of candlelight and tears. And when I touched it the flames did not burn my palms and the tears were tears of joy.