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

My Fateful Love

by Angie

Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute

- John Milton

Catherine opened her eyes and immediately turned her head to look at Vincent. It was habit. Even after so many years, she still feared she would awaken one day and discover he was a dream … and she was alone.

He was breathing softly, obviously still asleep. That was unusual. He usually knew immediately when she awakened and met her eyes, as if he knew of this phobia of hers.

She kept her emotions carefully controlled and looked down the wonderful, muscular, naked length of him, head to toe.

She loved his feet. Hairy on the top, like his hands, they were large and well-formed. Sensitive too, as she had discovered. Like the rest of Vincent, his feet had never been touched by a lover until she came along. Oh, what she could do with those feet … and what he could do with his hands! She wouldn’t want to change either. And as for what was in between … there were no words.

Vincent was already awake when he felt Catherine turn her attention to him. He seldom slept for long periods, but sometimes liked to pretend he was asleep so he could bask in what he felt from her along their bond. He knew she loved to look at him, and the pleasure she derived from doing so never failed to thrill him.

He had spent the greater part of his adult life trying to diminish his differences, all the while knowing that his tunnel family relied on his greater strength and natural "weapons" to protect them. He had once asked Father if he was a man, and the patriarch had prevaricated. That answer had merely reinforced his own self-image – that of a man-beast. Catherine, though, had made a point of telling him that he was more than a man – not less – and all of it loveable.

He wondered what his life would have been, had he not met Catherine. He had known, even before that fateful night, something of what he’d been missing and would probably never know. But the depth of those emotions, once aroused, had been a surprise to him. None of the romantic writers had prepared him for the utter delight that he felt when he knew Catherine truly loved him. Him!

He could feel her eyes on him like a caress, matched by the obvious arousal she was never quite able to mask, not from the early days. He had always known what she felt about him, perhaps even before she did, but had schooled himself to deny it. Lisa had taught him the dangers of letting his heart rule, but she wasn’t the only reason. There were women below who would have gladly shared his bed, even before Catherine came into his life. He chose to ignore their veiled and always careful overtures. Accepted as he was in his tunnel family, that was an option he had not wanted to encourage. He couldn’t believe they wanted him for himself. He had chosen celibacy, as much out of concern for the community, as himself - or the fears about what the act of love might result in. Father had worried about him, he knew, but had no answers to his dilemma. No doubt he would also have done his part to discourage sexual overtures to his special son.

Catherine, being from the world above, had no such restraints or pre-conceptions.

He realized now that he had been a fool, but perhaps it was for the best. He had saved himself for Catherine, albeit unknowingly, and they had discovered and explored their love together. He suspected he would never get enough of that pleasure.

He realized abruptly that his groin was awakening and he would not be able to pretend he was asleep any longer. He made a soft snort, shifted slightly, then turned to look at Catherine. Her mouth turned up in a smile.

"Good morning, Vincent."

Without words, they moved together until they were pressed tightly. Vincent felt his arousal harden against her and sighed in delight. There was no better way to start the day, in his opinion.

"Oh, Catherine."

He felt her quiver, then detected a shimmer of fear ran along their bond.

"What is it?" he asked into her hair.

Catherine pulled back a little to look in his eyes.

"Sometimes I’m afraid," she whispered, lifting a hand to gently stroke his cheek. "What if we should be separated, or one of us lose the other? What if the Fates decide we have had enough joy in our lives?"

Vincent turned his face to kiss her hand.

"Catherine, you once said we could never lose each other – as long as we remembered love."

"That was a long time ago, Vincent - before we became lovers. I don’t believe that anymore. I need you … here … with me, always. Not just a memory of you."

Vincent sighed. He hugged her to him again and felt her relax into him. He spoke softly.

"Hardly a day passed, after I recovered from my sickness at age 15, that I didn’t I wonder why I existed – why the Fates had let me live. Sometimes, I cursed them for making me different, forcing me to remain hidden. Not all the love of Father and my family could lessen that ache of aloneness, Catherine. I hated myself. Later, I roamed the nights above, but found only more emptiness in the shadows. I think Fate took a hand the night I found you. Now we are living out our true destiny."

Catherine sighed.

"Yes. I’ve often thought about what my life would have been, had I not gone to that reception, or not left early. It was if the spheres aligned to ensure we met, just then, when I needed … you … most."

Vincent was silent for a moment then whispered, "I think we were meant for each other. My world fell into its rightful place that night, although I didn’t realize it until later."

"Yes, mine too. Do you think the three Fates have finished with us then?"

It was Vincent’s turn to sigh.

"Catherine, the Fates are impartial. No one knows why things happen the way they do. We experienced a miracle of fate when Clotho spun our life threads together that night. I don’t know what measure Lachesis will grant us, but we will live until Atropos uses her scissors – and then she will have to cut both our life threads, for we are inseparable."

"Yes. And in the meantime, we must live as if each day were our last, to the full."

She reached between them and Vincent groaned.

"We need no such excuse," he told her.

"I know, but this is the position I want to be in when our threads come to an end."

Vincent found that speech has deserted him as he and Catherine enjoyed the touch and feel of each other. He roared in ecstacy when they joined at last and their love and passion flowed, thick and sweet as honey, along their bond.

"But not yet," Catherine stated at last, and she lay atop Vincent, glorying in the smooth vibration of his post-coital purr.

"No, never," Vincent whispered with a sigh. The Fates, according to legend, did not look back and couldn’t be influenced. He was glad of that. He suspected that he and Catherine might otherwise instill just a little jealousy - in even those faceless Fates.

END