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

Two of a Kind

Angie

You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops;
you would pluck out the heart of my mystery;
you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass

- William Shakespeare

She felt a wave of hunger wash over her and hunkered down until it passed. She was getting very weak. It had been two days since she had finished the last of the meager rations Mam had been able to find.

Just thinking about Mam made her want to cry. Kat had found her dead at the culvert entrance she liked to use, probably of a heart attack, her bag of scavenged food beside her. Kat had hauled Mam’s body down the culvert into the park, knowing that someone would see it come daylight. It was hard, but Kat knew Mam would have approved the necessity. Mam had taught her good sense, and to glean what she could from books borrowed from the library. But books couldn’t help her now. Kat was now truly alone.

She was not doing well. Usually these upper tunnels had mice and rats she could catch and eat, but she had found no sense of them at all. Where had they all gone, now of all times, when she needed them most? She felt tears rolling down her cheeks in frustration.

She crept along a few more tunnels and then stopped, realizing that she was now very close to where the Others lived, the ones who posted sentries. Mam had told her to avoid them.

Kat was about to turn around and head back down to her own territory when her nose picked up something out of the ordinary. She concentrated and realized it was food, something savoury, rich with meat, vegetables – and gravy. She must be hallucinating! Then again, maybe it was a sentry having his dinner. She supposed they must eat sometime. The scent held her captivated - and then she found herself moving toward it before she could stop herself. She sat down quickly and found herself shaking with her need for food.

Suddenly she was grabbed from behind by strong arms.

Vincent was on sentry duty in one of the more remote and dark outposts. The only light was in the sentry room - and it was kept to a minimum. He had just started to eat the stew that Samantha had brought him when he heard something. Someone was creeping along the tunnel. At first he thought it might be Mouse but soon realized that this person moved as if they were hunting – and very tired.

He quietly put down his bowl and spoon and left by the other door. Sentry posts always had two and were positioned on intersections. Vincent moved quietly but quickly, using his knowledge of the tunnels to find a route that would bring him behind the intruder. When he did, he saw little but a small outline in the dim light. A child perhaps. It was sitting and he grabbed it carefully but firmly from behind.

Vincent sensed despair and fear – but most of all, hunger. The body he held was very lean, but hard with well-formed muscle that he could feel as it weakly tried to escape. What had it been hunting here? What but vermin? Maybe it supplemented its diet with them. But he had gone on one of his periodic hunts just three nights ago and cleaned out the entire sector. Was he partly responsible for this person’s hunger?

The body he held stopped struggling and he belatedly realized his hand was cupped around a small breast. Not a child then – and female. He moved his hand, embarrassed, and realized that she was shaking with sobs.

"Hush," he whispered into a mass of hair. "I’m a friend. I won’t harm you. I’ll take you to a safe place. I have food."

Vincent felt her relax and he gathered the thin body into his arms and carried her back to the sentry room. He put her on his sleeping mat and brought the lantern closer to her. What he saw made him sit back on his heels in astonishment. Looking back at him was a smaller, softer version of his own face, with wide green eyes. He sensed her shock as she looked at his face, but there was also a little defiance.

She kept glancing to one side and he realized she could smell his food. He quickly filled up his bowl again and brought it to her. Her eyes as she looked at the food told him she had not eaten well for a long time. She was shaking in reaction, so he sat in front of her and offered her a spoonful of stew. She lifted up a quivering hand and touched his, her eyes still registering shock but firmly fixed on his. He realized her hands had long nails like his own and were covered in light-coloured hair.

"Come. Eat," he begged her, moving the spoon to her mouth. He didn’t know if she could talk, but he hoped she was not deaf as well. She opened her mouth and took the spoon into it, and he saw the points of canines. Her eyes closed and he heard her sigh and she let him take back the spoon. He filled it again, and let her eat a few more bites before he stopped. She should not eat too much at once. He poured her some warm tea and gave it to her in a metal cup. She drank thirstily.

Abruptly she sagged sideways, and he had to reach an arm over to catch her. She had reached the end of her strength and was obviously very tired. Vincent leaned against the wall and gathered her to him, surrounding them both with his cloak. He could hear her breathing softly and knew she was asleep. Then he realized something else. Her body was vibrating slightly with a purr. He found himself responding with a light one of his own. Another marvel!

She seemed to have plucked out the heart of his mystery, just by her existence. Vincent wondered who this waif was, and how she had come to be in the tunnels. He cast his mind back and suddenly had an inkling.

For some time he had known about two people living far beyond the tunnel community’s borders. He had seen only an old black woman clearly. There had been what he assumed was a child, but it was wary and he had never seen more than a shadow. He had never shown himself, but had watched them long enough to determine that they posed no threat. He had supposed they were refugees from Above. He was about to tell Father and arrange for someone to approach them and offer help, when they disappeared. This must be the child. No wonder they had hidden. She must have sensed his presence and they had taken flight.

As he held the small woman now, he realized her hair was a tangle but seemed reasonably clean, given where she had been roaming.

Vincent was beginning to feel tired himself. He was nearing the end of his sentry shift. He had to decide what to do. She would not be used to people, and he was loath to haul her back as a prisoner. He felt an unexplainable attraction to this one who resembled him, but his natural caution re-asserted itself. There was not only himself to worry about. He had to know more about her. She might even have clues to his own birth, although he guessed she was several years younger than him.

He carefully extracted himself and let her down softly onto the mat. He packed his bag with the container of stew, and thermos of tea, along with some bread, sausage, cake and a large chunk of cheese. William always provided the sentries with plenty of sustenance.

He turned to look at her and found that she had awakened and was watching him warily. He noticed she was wearing a stretchy, one piece outfit that was skin tight, making her bony frame obvious. She had a woman’s curves though, and there were neat leather patches sewn at knees and elbows. She was barefoot.

"Do you have a name?" he asked quietly, moving to sit in front of her again

.

"Kat," she answered. "With a ‘K’." She felt him wince at that. It wasn’t her real name, of course. Mam had called her Catherine, always. But Mam was gone and she had felt the need for something shorter, a nickname. Her life seemed likely to be short too, she thought wryly.

Gods he was large! He seemed to fill the small room, what with his heavily-padded clothes and enormous cloak with big shoulder rolls, tied with laces. He spoke kindly, though, and she felt herself warming to him. His voice was a quiet, deep rasp.

"My name is Vincent. I want to help you. Do you have a place to live?"

She nodded.

"Would you take me there? We should talk. I’ll bring along the food. The relief sentry will be here soon. I’m just going to send a message so they won’t worry."

As Kat watched, Vincent picked up a stone and made a series of tapping sounds on a pipe near one of the doorways. He waited and she heard more tapping, not as loud, realizing it must be a reply. She rose unsteadily, suddenly dizzy, and he was there, supporting her, his pack over the other shoulder.

With a resigned nod, she led him along the tunnels and down into the areas she knew as well as her face. It seemed a very long way. When they finally reached the entrance to her cave, she stopped and left his support to step through a low, dark entrance.

Vincent stooped, feeling close walls but seeing little in the dimness which soon became a yet deeper darkness. Suddenly he sensed space and put his hand over his head to discover nothing there. He stood up. A few moments later, a match flared and a large candle was lit on a nearby box, then another in a small lantern, which Kat placed onto a rock shelf.

The room was neat and clean, but there was little in the way of furnishings and, quite obviously, no food at all. The fire pit had not been used in some time. There were a few pots and odds and ends, several wooden crates, one seemed to be full of rags – clothes perhaps - and one had a pile of books on it.

The latter amazed him almost as much as her existence. He walked over to them and saw an old Oxford dictionary, a Latin reader, Moonfleet by William Faulkner, The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, The Readers Digest Complete Do-it-Yourself Manual, The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins, and The Complete Works of Shakespeare. An eclectic collection – and not come by easily, he was sure.

"Do you like to read?" he asked.

"Of course," she answered, a little huffily "Mam taught me to write as well. She borrowed books from the library for me, sometimes found them thrown away and brought them here. I couldn’t bear to part with any of them."

"How long have you been here, Kat?"

She looked a bit embarrassed at the question and looked down. "I don’t know exactly. All my life, I guess. Mam looked after me and helped me. She was my friend."

Kat sat down on a crate and put her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. Vincent sat on the floor next to her and wrapped his arms about her. She leaned into his shoulder and he hugged her. He realized that this woman had lived a hard, unforgiving life. What she must have endured humbled him. He had been so lucky!

"Tell me," he whispered, and Kat began to talk, her voice less rough and a little higher than his own.

Kat gradually recovered her poise as she talked. Mam was not her mother and had never told Kat her real name. She didn’t know who her mother was – or her father. Mam said she had been found in a culvert, naked and wet. They had lived underground, first in a cave higher up, then other ones. They moved any time someone got too close or too curious. Mam protected her from the curious and never let her be seen.

Mam had cared for her, taught her everything she could. She’d been a teacher once and she made sure Kat studied. Survival books, cookbooks, classics, first aid books, dictionaries, the sciences, poetry, history – anything she could lay her hands upon. Kat would have to look after herself one day, Mam had insisted. She was an old woman so Kat must know how to survive – but also how to observe and not be seen, to have patience and be polite.

Mam had told Kat that there were others living in some distant tunnels, but that she must avoid them. They wouldn’t understand. Mam had made her look in a mirror and explained why that was so, but that it wasn’t her fault and she must accept her differences. She had also told her of another old woman far below, a sister, but would say little more. One day they would go to and visit her, she promised.

Vincent stiffened. Was she referring to Narcissa? Perhaps the old seer had helped them when she could. That would explain how they had survived for so long virtually unnoticed. Narcissa had her ways.

Kat stopped and straightened. She did not want to think about Mam any more. She could smell the food in Vincent’s bag and she was still hungry. She wanted it before he decided to leave her and go back to his world. But she remembered her manners.

"May I have some more food please, Vincent?"

Vincent opened his bag and took out the stew container and a spoon. He scooped some into the lid and handed it to her.

"You mustn’t eat too much at first. Here, have some bread and some more tea."

She ate carefully, chewing every bite as it if were infinitely precious, then drank the tea. She sighed.

"Thank you, Vincent. That was wonderful. I feel much better."

But Vincent could sense that she was tired, and he didn’t know what to say to her.

He was still reluctant to introduce her to the tunnel community and was not sure she would want to accompany him. He knew now there was no danger, but his feelings towards this outcast woman were muddled and he wanted to get them straight before he faced Father and the rest of his family.

Did she have empathic powers as well? Could she sense his confusion? He wanted to learn more about her.

He looked around the cave and realized he couldn’t leave her here alone. He had plenty of food for at least another day – and he could always get more delivered to the sentry station.

"Kat, I want to help you. You … you’re … well, I never expected to meet anyone like myself. You need not hunt rats any more. I have food, and there’s more where this came from. I want you to trust me. Can you?"

Kat sensed that Vincent was uncertain how to offer friendship to her – almost expected a rebuff. She looked at him in the light of the lantern. It was a face like her own, but more mature, less lean - a face that she found strangely beautiful, now that she had time to examine it. His life was unlike hers. He had probably never been hungry, although his unique appearance must have set him apart, as hers had.

She looked around the cave, suddenly embarrassed at its sparse furnishings and the obvious poverty it shouted. She had never been anywhere without Mam, but she read books and magazines. She had seen pictures of how other people lived. They had real beds, bookshelves, comfortable chairs – and friends. Mam had been her whole life. This cave was her home.

No wonder he was wary. He knew nothing about her. She might murder him in his sleep, with that poor excuse for a knife sitting on the crate. Her nails were sharp enough, though – and she could see that his were too. What other qualities did they share? How was it possible that they so resembled each other?

Kat’s mind was spinning, and she felt her eyes closing and herself drifting. She tried to shake herself awake, but suddenly found his arms holding her again. It was too easy to rest against his broad chest and let go.

With Kat again asleep in his arms, Vincent looked around the cave and spotted what he assumed was her bed. It was a pile of sleeping bags. He carried her to it and realized it was large enough for both of them. Mam must have slept next to her. He lay her down carefully and was relieved that she did not awaken.

He was more than a little weary himself. No one in his family would worry about him if he was gone for a couple of days, but he would have to check in. He left the cave soft-footed and went to the nearest pipe, some yards away, well out of earshot. He tapped out an ‘all’s well’ message and his name, and said he was going to see Narcissa. The more he thought about it, the better he liked that idea. Kat must come with him.

He returned to the cave and took off boots and socks, and his upper layers down to his thermal shirt. Then he lay down beside Kat, covering them both with his cloak and an old quilt he found neatly folded on a nearby crate. He was more than a little aware of the female form beside him, a circumstance entirely new to him. Fears that he might not be able to sleep for the wonder of it proved completely unfounded, however.

Vincent awakened first and found that Kat had turned over and was spooned against him. He could feel her heat and found himself generating not a little of his own as he registered that fact. He dared not move, and began a train of speculation while he waited for her to wake up.

Did Narcissa know Mam and Kat? Had she some clues to how he and she had come to be? It was likely the old seer would not tell them anything clearly. She liked to talk riddles, as if saying something in plain English jinxed the message.

He began to think of food. He had given all his stew to Kat, but he had a lot of cheese, bread and one of William’s famous giant sausages in his backpack. Even a small cake. He sighed quietly and abruptly realized that Kat was awake. She turned over and gave him a tentative smile.

"Good morning," she whispered as she gazed at him. He didn’t look nearly as huge without all his layers of clothes. She wondered why he wore them. From what she could see peeking from his undershirt, his body hair was even thicker than her own. Maybe his community lived in a much colder part of the tunnels. She and Mam had always stayed as close to the surface as they could - and in caves near the steam pipes, for warmth.

How had they come to be born, he and she? He was much larger-framed than herself – and a few years older. They were not related, she was sure – well, she hoped not. She felt something quite un-sisterly towards him. Mam would have been amazed had she seen him. Mam had been wrong about the tunnel community. They would have understood her all too well. They might have been friends. Mam might not have died. The thought brought a sob up from her gut and she closed her eyes, feeling the tears burning. She felt his arm around her and suddenly the tears poured out.

Vincent gathered Kat to him as she began to cry, and stroked her hair and back. She was so alone, more alone than he could imagine. His aloneness, when he had it, was by choice. What would it feel like to have no one at all who cared? He bent his head over hers and pulled her head into his neck, nuzzling her softly. Her body shook with deep, silent sobs.

"Let it out," he whispered. "It’s all right. I’m here."

Kat found herself sobbing loudly, snuffling into Vincent’s neck, the way she had once with Mam. She had been small then and had wandered into a culvert entrance, seen green grass, trees and a small bed of flowers framed by its dark cylinder. It seemed an Alice in Wonderland world and she had wanted to go there. She had been about to run to it, like Alice down the rabbit hole, when Mam had caught her and pulled her away hard, back into the dim tunnels. Mam had sat her down after a while and quietly explained that she must never go into the park in daylight. If anyone saw her, they might try to catch her, hurt her, take her away to somewhere horrible where they would treat her like an animal. A laboratory. She would never see Mam again – just a lot of men in white coats, always prodding and poking at her.

Kat had been hardly able to believe that, but Mam had brought books and magazines and made her read them. Horrible stories of experiments on animals, even a novel which told of three animals which escaped a laboratory, all with terrible scars. She had shuddered at the thought of how close she had come to losing everything. She never ventured near the entrances during the day again.

She became very careful, telling Mam when she sensed someone near. Then they packed up their belongings and moved, filling the orange crates with everything, even what garbage they had, leaving nothing to suggest they had been there. It was sometimes hard to move. They had to seek out a new cave, sometimes a new place to bathe, a place to use as a toilet. This cave was one of the best they had ever lived in. Vincent wouldn’t understand.

She got herself under control and moved away a little so she could look at him. He gazed down at her, his eyes showing concern and something else. Her hand was on his chest and she could feel his heart pounding. She dared to hope that he liked her a little.

"Thank you," she whispered, dropping her eyes. "I don’t know what came over me. I haven’t cried like that since I was a little girl. I’m sorry."

Vincent took her hands in his and looked at them. They were small but beautifully-shaped. Without thinking, he raised them to his lips, gazing at her as he ran his lips over their backs, felt the soft hair on them. She didn’t need to tell him what had made her cry as a child. He knew that sorrow all too well.

"Kat, there is no need to apologize. We are alike. I too have known what it means to be denied the daylight of the world above. I learned to explore the night. I have wandered far and seen much, not all of it pretty. There’s a poem I love. It’s called Acquainted with the Night and it’s by Robert Frost.

"I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night."

Kat listened, her eyes fixed on Vincent’s face. His voice was magical, soothing. When he finished, she smiled.

"That was beautiful, Vincent. I remember reading Frost’s poems a long time ago, but he spoke of things I didn’t understand. I’ve never been out of the tunnels. Sometime, I’d like to see the night with you."

Her stomach took that opportunity to rumble loudly and she looked down in embarrassment. Vincent smiled and left her to fetch his bag. He brought out rolls and filled them with generous slices of cheese and some kind of spicy meat carved from something almost obscene. She had seen pictures. She felt her face heat up and became very interested in the ground, although she could not prevent her nose twitching with the delightful smell. He gave her two sandwiches and made the same for himself. The flask still had tea, so he poured them both some of that too.

Kat closed her eyes as she ate, wanting to savour the taste. It had been a long time since she’d eaten cheese – and then it had to be carefully examined. She loved it more than anything else. The meat was good too. She finished the two rolls and drank all her tea before she risked looking up at Vincent again. She caught him looking at her speculatively.

"What?" she asked.

"I want to take you to meet someone. Her name is Narcissa. She might be the sister Mam told you about. She’s an unusual woman, but a kind one. Will you come? I’ll signal Pascal to get some more food brought to me at one of the sentry stations. We might be gone for a couple of days. I know our tunnels well. There are places we can wash and find drinking water."

Kat didn’t hesitate. "I’ll come with you Vincent. I’ll clean up while you’re gone. She ran her hand through her hair, which she was sure resembled a rat’s nest. She needed a wash too.

"You send your message and I’ll be ready when you get back."

Vincent nodded pleased, and got himself dressed. She noticed that his boots were soft. No wonder he had been able to creep up on her. He moved gracefully and silently, despite his size.

"I’ll be gone a little while," he said over his shoulder before he left.

"I’ll wait," she promised. Where would I go now, she whispered after he was out of earshot.

Kat looked down at herself and grimaced. She had been wearing this outfit too long, but a bath would have to wait. That was a surprise she held in reserve to show Vincent – but not yet. She went to a battered tin can and used the water in it to wash her face and hands then brushed her teeth with salt. They had run out of toothpaste long ago. She ran her worn bristle brush through her hair, trying to get all the snarls out, following it with her comb. It found some knots and she pulled at them impatiently. Then she tied her hair back with a leather thong. She felt a lot better now.

But her clothes! She rooted in a crate and found another clean one-piece outfit. Mam had called them cat suits, explaining that thieves liked to wear them. Kat loved the stretchies, even if going to the bathroom was inconvenient in them. She hated clothes which rode up or fell down. These were comfortable. She put on a much-patched one and looked at her feet. She hated footwear, too, and owned none – had not for a long time. Well, he would have to take her as she was. Mam had been unable to find her anything that she didn’t want to take off almost immediately. She liked going barefoot, feeling the tunnel floor beneath her feet. She could climb well and never slipped.

She might need more warmth, though. She found an old wool vest of Mam’s and zipped it on. It was too big, so it hung below her knees. There, she was as ready as she could be. She didn’t wear underwear, and she had nothing worth packing. She stuck the comb in one buttoned pocket in the vest and a neatly-folded, clean handkerchief in the other. Mam had been insistent on the proper use of a handkerchief. The thought made her eyes burn again, and she sat down on a crate.

She was about to pick up the volume of Shakespeare when Vincent re-appeared, his pack now bulging with something which smelled delightful. More stew, but a different one she thought, her mouth watering at the thought. He was carrying a lantern as well, a proper one, burning oil not candles.

He seemed to sense her hunger and smiled. "We may have to make this last a little while, so we’ll eat later. Are you ready?"

"Ready," Kat confirmed, getting up.

They left the cave, and Vincent immediately went in the opposite direction, quickly taking a route that led them down, further down than she had ever been. The passages became very dark and he lit the lantern. He suddenly made a right turn and they went level for a long way. Then he stopped.

"Be careful here, the steps are slippery and there is a strong wind."

He led the way down a long uneven stair with nothing but space on one side of it. She followed carefully. The wind seemed to be trying to pluck her off the steps. She scrabbled against the wall, found nothing to hold onto. Suddenly Vincent’s hand grasped hers and he held her as they descended. The light improved and he turned off the lantern. At the bottom, they went through an archway and she gasped.

They were standing in a chamber like the pictures of cathedrals in books. Great stone arches soared high above. Vincent still held her hand and they walked across a sandy floor into the centre but then let her go to scrape some of the sand away. He revealed a mosaic pattern with an arrow. He rose and followed where it pointed, through a side tunnel. They walked for a while and emerged in a kind of gallery half way up the wall of a circular cave. Kat looked down and saw a person who might have been Mam. She started.

Below them, a woman wearing a kerchief over grey hair was sitting on a colourful rug. Around her was a ring of tables holding a fantastic collection of bottles, flasks, stones, bones and gewgaws. Every remaining flat surface seemed to hold a lit candle. Their smoke hung like a pall below the roof of the cavern.

Kat followed Vincent down a short flight of steps and approached the woman.

"Narcissa," Vincent said, as they stood before her. She looked up at them and Kat realized she must be blind, with eyes like that. But she moved her head as if to look at Kat, and suddenly she wasn’t so sure.

"Welcome children. So much alike, and yet so different. What can an old woman do for such special children? You have questions, but how can an old woman answer them? Perhaps you want to know your future? That would change it, you know."

"Narcissa," Vincent said again. "This is Kat. She lived with an old black woman in the tunnels far from my family. Kat knew her as Mam. She might have known you."

Narcissa suddenly looked very sad and big tears began rolling down her face. She nodded.

"Ah, she was a stubborn one, my sister. But she had a good heart, and this one," she nodded at Kat, "was well-cared for - as well as she was able to do so. I watched them, but my sister would not let me help much. Pride, children, is the downfall of good intentions."

"Do you know where Kat came from," Vincent asked.

Narcissa raised her head to him and he quailed at what he felt from her.

"Child," she admonished him. "Some things are not to be known. This is one of them. Be content that you have found another like you. There will be no more, I think. But you and she have a life ahead of you. Maybe together, eh? That would be a wonder. Be satisfied. There is no more. The past is not for delving in. Your future awaits.

"But I do have something for the little one."

Narcissa rose, painfully slowly, and shuffled over to a table. She lifted something from it on a chain and brought it over. It was a small, multi-faceted crystal drop hanging from a tarnished silver chain. In the candlelight, it seemed to cast green glints.

"My sister gave me this, long ago when we were girls above, in the world of birthdays and parties. Take it in her memory, child. Cherish it. May it bring you happiness."

She put the chain over Kat’s neck and stood, her lips moving silently, as if reciting a spell. Vincent would not have been surprised if she was, but didn’t ask. Kat seemed stunned.

"Now leave an old woman to her dreams."

"Thank you Narcissa. Goodbye," Vincent said, taking Kat’s hand again and leading her back up the steps and away.

They went back to the arched chamber but took a different way. He must have felt her confusion, for he turned to her, realized he still held her hand and let it go, dropping his head a little.

"I want to show you a place, Kat. We can have lunch there, before we return to your cave. We have taken less time than I expected. Narcissa wanted to see us, so we found her easily."

Kat said nothing to this seemingly odd remark, just nodded and followed him. She had never known the tunnels held such places. What more could there be?

They went for some distance this time, winding around tunnels, once crossing over a plank bridge that looked as if it would crumble at a breath. They never saw anyone, for which she was grateful, then suspected that some of the turns might have been to avoid such meetings. He was probably worried about her still.

Suddenly bright light appeared before them and they emerged into a place that left her speechless. They stood on a ledge and across a deep chasm a waterfall seemed to flow from sunlight, down a long drop. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, glittering, filling the cavern with its soft noise and sparkling reflections.

"Laughing Water," she quoted, remembering the Song of Hiawatha. "I never knew what that meant until now. It’s lovely, Vincent."

"By the shores of Gitche Gomee, by the shining Big-Sea-Water," Vincent intoned, looking at her. "You are not Minnehaha, and I am not Hiawatha, but I think you might be a daughter of the moon, as I am a son of the night. Like a ghost, that goes at sunrise, yet;

‘In his life he had one shadow,
In his heart one sorrow had he’

"Long have I been waiting for you," Vincent whispered, so softly she almost didn’t hear it. Maybe he didn’t want her to and did not realize how keen her ears were.

"Teach me songs as full of gladness!" she replied and she caught his blue gaze burning into her own. "Be my starlight, moonlight, firelight."

I love that poem – although it’s very long," she admitted. It was full of imagery she could only dream about. Except that today she had felt the wind and could now see a waterfall. She gazed at the latter in joy, realized this must be one of Vincent’s favourite places. She could see why. The water seemed to be talking to her in a language she could almost understand, tantalizingly.

"Let’s to our feast, shall we?" Vincent asked quietly, feeling suddenly self-conscious. He had not expected her to quote Longfellow back at him. Had he seen in her eyes what he thought he had? He was stunned by the implications. Perhaps she did sense his feelings. Her ears were certainly sharp. He felt his face heat a little at that.

Her hand in his was warm, and he brought his mind back to more mundane matters. He led her to his favourite ledge along the rock wall facing the waterfall. He sat down, urged her to do the same. She followed his example and let her feet dangle over the side.

He rooted in his pack for their food. William had outdone himself again. The burlap bag delivered to the sentry post contained enough food for several people, even of Vincent’s appetite. He chuckled and began to unload it onto the rock, along with the bowls and spoons, and caught her looking down at the growing selection of food in amazement.

Then he remembered water and pulled out his flask.

"Be right back," he told Kat, and went to the spring which ran from a crevice in the cave wall. He filled the flask with its cold, clear water.

He returned to find Kat’s gaze divided between the waterfall and the food. He berated himself.

"You didn’t have to wait for me. Help yourself."

He took a bowl and scooped out some stew from another container like the last one. Vincent leaned against the rock wall and Kat did the same, moving to sit close to him. They said nothing for a long time, moving only to sample more of the bounty. Kat, he sensed, was overwhelmed. He heard a half-suppressed belch from her and diplomatically ignored it.

"Ah William," Vincent exulted. "A cook worthy of kings."

He leaned back and put his hands over his now full belly and gave a satisfied belch. He heard a snort beside him and looked at Kat to see that she was trying not to laugh.

She failed, and another belch escaped her. They both began to roar with laughter. That sound made her stop abruptly. She looked at Vincent. What if someone heard them? He looked back at her, apparently sensing her concern.

"Don’t worry. No one comes here much - and no one will hear us over the sound of the waterfall. Really."

He got a serious expression on his face.

"Kat … I want you to come and meet my family when you feel able to. When you wish. I’ll make sure you have all the food you want; and I won’t leave you alone until you are ready to come with me. I… I don’t want anything to happen to you."

Kat moved to hug him and felt his arms tentatively respond, as if he was afraid. Of what, she wondered? That she would take fright and run away? She could no more do that than fly. Perhaps he was afraid of her, of what their closeness would mean. She knew enough from her reading to know that men were not usually so reticent. As far as she was concerned, he was the answer to her dreams. Perhaps he had been spurned by women in his community. He was beautiful to her, seemed to awaken something she could not name. Was it sexual attraction? She knew so little about that. Nothing really, except what she read in romances. That part of her training was sadly remiss. Mam probably thought it best not to dwell on it. Well, Narcissa had hinted she and Vincent were alike and had a future. That was encouraging. She suspected Vincent revered the old woman. But if he still needed convincing, she would do her best when the time came. She had ideas about that too. In his arms again, leaning against his chest, she felt safe and warm. He moved to swirl his cloak about them and she felt suddenly tired. She drifted into a nap without thinking.

Vincent was not tired and sat with Kat wrapped in his arms, content in a way he would not have believed possible. She felt right against his chest. He regarded the waterfall and relaxed. He’d better think about how to introduce her to the tunnel community. She would definitely cause an uproar…and he forgave himself the bad pun. She had good manners and seemed quiet and gentle. He was sure she would come to love his family. They would open their arms to her, he knew. The questions would come later.

She stirred in his arms and he realized he had fallen asleep. The afternoon was advancing and it was time to return.

Kat looked up at him and saw his concern reflected there. She sighed.

"Let’s go back to my cave," she said. "I have something to show you."

They quickly packed the ample remains of their lunch into Vincent’s pack and began the trek back. Kat was hopelessly lost, but Vincent was not. In less time than she had expected, they were back at the entrance to her cave, without passing anything she recognized from their trip down. It made her wonder how extensive the tunnel system was. She wanted to see more of it.

When they reached her cave, she saw it with new eyes. How could she stay here now? Vincent was all that mattered. She could pack up her books into a crate and leave immediately with him. But something else made itself known to her nose. She looked down at herself and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Yes, she would show him her special place. He obviously didn’t know about it. She was glad there was something she could surprise him with, after this day of wonders.

"I need a bath," she announced.

She took Vincent’s hand, looked at it in her own, and was suddenly paralyzed. She looked in his eyes and saw something there, banked like a fire, waiting. He closed his hand around hers and she realized she’d been holding her breath. She felt a response within herself, felt as if she could drown in the blue depths of his eyes. She gave herself a mental shake and remembered her purpose.

"Come, I’ll show you my special bathing place. You might want to take off some of your clothes. It’s very warm there."

Kat removed the vest and placed it back in a crate, then carefully placed Narcissa’s crystal necklace on top of the pile of books. She was wearing nothing but her cat suit now – and it needed a wash too. Vincent took off his cloak and stripped to his undershirt again, as if in a daze. He laid everything neatly on one of the upended crates. He took off his boots and socks too. His feet, she noticed, were large and hairy, but nicely-shaped. Her own were much smaller, but otherwise very alike. What was he – and she - she wondered again. An experiment? Refuges from some distant planet? Narcissa hinted that the answer was not important. She had to agree, since thinking about it made her head ache.

Kat picked up a couple of ragged towels and led Vincent out the door and further along the main tunnel for a short way. Suddenly she moved behind a large outcrop and into a very narrow, twisting passage. She could hear Vincent scraping both sides of the way and he’d probably have to bend down as well, she thought. But it wasn’t for long. They emerged into a chamber filled with roiling mist which obscured everything. It was fairly bright still, although the light shifted with the clouds of steam. There was the sound of water lapping against stone.

Kat took his hand again and he followed her closely. She skirted the stone wall until she came to a large flat rock. She proceeded to slip out of her outfit. She looked at him expectantly, without modesty. He seemed stunned, his eyes trying not to drift to either her breasts or her crotch. She could sense his discomfort and decided he had a thing or two to learn as well. She had made her decision. Would he agree?

"Come. You might enjoy a bath too, Vincent. I don’t mind. The water is lovely and warm."

Vincent tried to think of an argument against this joint bath, but couldn’t come up with a single one. After all, his tunnel family had communal bathing. And he did feel grubby. He had been on sentry duty for two days - before going with Kat to see Narcissa. A good soak sounded wonderful.

Quietly, Vincent peeled off his pants and shirt, placing them at the back of the rock next to Kat’s patched clothing. She wore no underwear he couldn’t help noticing. He never wore any either. It was just too uncomfortable, yanked out his body hair and made him itch.

He wondered if she was watching him. He looked around and couldn’t see her, or anything, in the steamy chamber. He felt his way cautiously to the edge of the pool and slid in. After a step it was just deep enough to reach his waist, and was pleasantly warm. He moved cautiously around the pool, finding the bottom smooth. A few steps more and he reached the other side, still without seeing Kat. He found a kind of ledge below the water and sat down on it, now able to soak up to his neck. He closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure.

He was drifting into a nap when he felt two hands on his shoulders. He looked up into Kat’s green eyes and saw something there which gave him a completely unexpected sensation in his groin. She seemed to sense it and took his hands to pull him to his feet.

"Come swim with me," she whispered. She turned away and he caught a glimpse of a softly-furred behind and a foot before the steam engulfed it. He swam after her in a daze until he felt his hands hit the rock wall. He stood up on the bottom and turned to face the pool, waiting, sensing that she was close. The water reached to his ribs here.

She rose before him.

"Lift your arms," she demanded. He did so and without preamble she began to scrub him with a rather worn bristle brush. He had never felt anything so wonderful. He closed his eyes and let her scrub him wherever she liked. He noticed she avoided the area between his legs and was glad. His could feel his arousal building. When she stood in front of him again, he quietly took the brush and did the same for her.

When he finished, they both sank into the water to rinse. Vincent stayed down, his knees almost touching the bottom of the pool, reluctant to let her see the evidence of his arousal. But she took the initiative, moved close and pressed her small breasts against his chest. He could feel their nipples harden against him and she put her arms around him. As if in a dream, he stood up again so he could embrace her properly. Then he found he couldn’t, didn’t want to move. She stroked his back and he ran his hands down hers. Their joint purrs now vibrated along their skin and Vincent felt the pressure in his groin building.

Kat shifted slightly so that his manhood rose between her legs and Vincent suddenly knew that the urge he felt was not all his own, one could no longer be denied. He gathered her up and carried her back to the flat rock. There on the towels, they began some tentative foreplay.

In the soft light of the cavern, Vincent saw that she was covered in fine golden hair, like silk. It did not cover her breasts though, and he found himself drawn to them, had a nipple in his mouth before he thought about it. Thinking, he decided, was secondary now. He let himself go, let the moment dictate the movement. Kat was stroking his chest and working her way downwards. They were both inexperienced, but their exploration of each other was gloriously arousing and they seemed to know what the other needed without explanation.

At one point she pushed him so that he lay on his back. She lay between his legs and put her head down on him. She moved up from his belly button, explored everything with her tongue, until she reached his nipples. By that time he was shaking with his need for her.

She sucked a nipple, sending fire shooting to his groin and he gasped. He could feel her heat as she lay on him, and suddenly he was consumed by desire. He rolled her onto her back, and careful of his weight, moved until he could position his manhood between her legs. She wrapped her legs round his hips and pulled him close to her.

He looked into her eyes then, saw her eagerness, her desire for him. He let himself down on her slowly, felt the delicious warmth of her as his column sank into her special place. He arched his neck at the sensation and sensed her impatience, as if it were his own. He wanted movement, needed to feel her along his length. He began to pump his hips slightly, felt a charge run between them like electricity. His penis throbbed and swelled, filling her. It was almost painful, and he knew he had to have relief immediately.

He grunted as he drove himself into her and she held onto his back. He felt the slight rake of her fingernails and that suddenly propelled him into climax. He felt her shudder as she followed him, gasping, her legs holding him like a vise. They flew together, like a phoenix on fire, letting it consume them…give them rebirth.

They roared in unison, a sound that seemed more sensation than noise and surprised them both as it filled the small cavern, like thunder in the distance. They relaxed at last with a glorious sense of fulfillment. Vincent thought he would burst with the joy which flowed through him and between them. Kat’s purr seemed to hum along his skin and his own joined it until they vibrated in unison.

Vincent became aware that he had pressed her into the hard rock and rolled off her to one side. She seemed not to have noticed, though, and moved to lay on his chest, her legs on either side of his. She stroked his eyebrows, his nose and his cheeks, then moved to place a sensuous kiss on his lips. He returned it with interest, finding that their unique mouths fit like the pieces of a puzzle. She tasted wonderful.

He sighed and looked into her eyes. Their purrs were even louder now and he felt her love for him as if it was his own and wondered at that. He guessed that their lovemaking had awakened a deep empathic bond between them. Kat seemed aware of it. He sent his own joy to her and saw her smile at him. He hugged her close and she put her head under his chin.

They rested for a time, but their joint purrs soon had them aroused again. This time they had a short and furious coupling, as if a barrier had been breached. Perhaps it had. Vincent felt as if there could be no more restraints now that they had found each other.

With Kat lying beside him, her head snuggled under his arm, Vincent found himself completely at peace. He thought muddily that it seemed impossible that such a short time could so change his life. Kat had become part of him, inseparable. Narcissa was right; the past didn’t matter any more.

She was so much like him, and not just physically. Her loneliness had been more extreme than his own, but he knew what it meant to be unique. Even the love of his tunnel family could not change that. She had touched his heart and he had felt it open like a flower, felt hers do the same.

Their bond seemed to be growing by the minute. Every touch she made along his skin sent was electric, delightfully erotic. He stroked her back and buttocks, loving the soft hair he felt and the bunching of her hard stomach muscles against his belly as her arousal built again, fueling his own as well.

Kat ran her hands over Vincent’s side as she lay on his chest, feeling his ribs and the lean waist, the flare of his narrow hips. He was magical. She could feel his delight at being touched, and let him know she was his. She didn’t understand how their connection worked, but she opened herself completely. She had nothing to hide, wanted him as she had never wanted anything. She sensed he felt the same.

Vincent could hardly believe he had made love to Kat. He had assumed for so long that he would never know physical love, had even wondered if it was possible. Now out of nowhere, he had found someone who could ‘sound me from the lowest note to the top of my compass.’

How was he to tell Father? On second thought, he suspected one look at Kat and Father would understand completely. How could he not? Whether he would accept it or not, that was a different matter. Well, Father would cope. He would have to.

Kat languidly began to suck one of Vincent’s nipples, felt him shudder. Fire seemed to be shooting between them and their arousal soon burned along their bond. She had not expected ever to be so happy, to feel so complete. She would go with him to meet the other tunnel dwellers tomorrow, she thought. The bath chamber was dark but for the phosphorescence which seemed to come from the walls. They should bathe again, then return to her cave. But first, she wanted more of him.

She gently clasped his manhood, heard him growl softly and gave one of her own when he reached between her legs. Gasping and grunting, they brought each other to climax. He moved to plant his lips on her own in thanks, a confirmation and a promise. She remembered something she had not told him. It was suddenly important that he know.

"By the way," she whispered in one soft ear. "My real name’s Catherine."

"You’ll always be Kat to me," Vincent whispered back. "My love, my life."

He smiled at the miracle of that, as did she. They both knew that nothing else mattered at all. Nothing else could.

Kat suddenly felt as if she could happily stay, lying on top of him, for the rest of her life and she told him so.

He laughed. "Or until you get hungry again – for food that is."

"Yes, that too." she whispered.

He nuzzled her ear and hugged her close to him. There was no need for words as the steam surrounded them like a warm kiss, a benediction.

END