(This story is written strictly for the free enjoyment of fans of the "Beauty and the Beast" television series. No copyright infringement is intended.)
Love Knot
by Angie
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one
-T.S. Eliot
It had taken Catherine a long to time devise a way to easily brush Vincent’s hair. She wanted to be able to face him, reach his head easily - and for them both to be comfortable and relaxed.
It was Friday night – their night for indulgences. They were in the attic of the brownstone under the skylights. It was a clear night in early winter and the room was lit only by starshine and a crescent moon. The room was comfortably warm and they were both naked – their favourite state these days.
They faced each other atop a fake fur throw laid on a large floor cushion. Catherine sat on a low, furry hassock in the "V" of Vincent’s legs, facing him. Her legs were on either side of his hips. He was resting one elbow on another hassock behind him. The other rested on her stomach, where the bulge of her pregnancy was rounding it. He was stroking her softly, distracting her. His eyes were closed.
The ethereal brilliance of Vivaldi’s "Winter" was playing softly from a corner of the room, sending shivers up her spine as she drew the brush through Vincent’s hair. She paused and closed her eyes.
"Tell me," Vincent demanded, quite aware that she saw images in the music, knowing that they would be different to his own.
Catherine began to brush again. She could feel Vincent’s purr where her legs touched him.
"Every time I hear this, I think of those beautiful winter scenes in Dr Zhivago – the woods, the big summer house in Varykino, coated in ice inside and out, the snow drifts around the tiny cottage, the air so cold that the smoke from the chimney is barely able to rise."
She had introduced Vincent to some of the better movies on videotape. The visual images enthralled him. He never tired of Dr Zhivago.
"Then I see a forest of firs after a new snowfall. The sun is bright and the trees are silhouettes against the blue-white snow. The snow has drifted in soft mounds to cover everything. Then a glittering shower drifts down from a branch far above, dancing in the sun like fairy dust. It’s silent and peaceful and the sky is clear, a perfect winter blue.
"Then night falls and the aurora borealis begins to ripple across the heavens. There’s a fairy tinkling, as if from a harp made of ice. Everything seems suspended until the aurora fades."
Catherine dropped the brush beside her and began to run a comb through Vincent’s hair. It was as fine and soft as kitten fur. He had tilted his head as if basking in the music. She bent over to plant a soft kiss on his lips. His purr deepened.
"Yes," he whispered, dropping his hand to stroke her calf lightly. "I can see it."
Catherine, now combing the denser, mane-like hair underneath, had an inspiration. Pretending to have found out a tangle, she grasped a small hank of hair and with a few deft twists made a tiny braid in it. She smiled.
Vincent opened his eyes and looked at her, sensing a smug happiness he could not account for.
"What?"
Catherine picked up a hand mirror and showed him. She saw the recognition in his eyes, realized he knew exactly what she had done.
He looked at her with a intensity that lit a fire in her core. She rose from the hassock, kicked it away to roll across the room. He pushed his away with a quick swipe and she sat down, easing herself into his lap until she could feel him warming her.
They kissed deeply and then snuggled, letting their heat crown until they could wait no longer. Then under the night sky, they formed a love knot of a different kind.
END