A/N: Catherine makes a huge decision about her career, which will radically change her and Vincent's life together, without consulting him. Tempers flare on the roof, only to follow them into the shower where a different type of heat takes over.

This is a one shot, dedicated to "DenisefromNY" for being so supportive and encouraging. Disclaimer: I own nothing, no profit or gain.


Hot Shower

Catherine reached down to unclip her service pistol and badge to throw them on her breakfast bar like she'd done a thousand times before, but her hands came back empty. She'd forgot. She wasn't a detective any more. An hour earlier she'd walked into Captain Ward's office – and resigned.

She leaned her hip against the granite counter top. Her shoulders slumped as she pushed out a long sigh. She was going to miss being a cop. She was good at it. Ever since her mother's murder and her decision to forego law school to become a police officer she'd been focused and had worked hard to become the best cop possible. Rising through the ranks quickly, she'd been one of the youngest female officers ever to be promoted to detective in NYPD's history. But that was all over now. It was her decision, no one else's.

Thoughts tugged at her and Catherine felt a twinge of uncertainty in her gut. Had she done the right thing? Was there another option she'd missed or ignored? She shook her head. No. There wasn't another option. She'd considered every possibility with the thoroughness she'd come to rely on as a detective. She'd made the right decision. She thought of the reason she'd resigned and nodded to herself. There was just no contest. She'd do it again, a thousand times over. He was worth it.

Catherine sucked in a deep breath, her uncertainty fading to the background – not quite gone, but under control again. Now she had to tell him.

At the thought of telling Vincent about her resignation Catherine's shoulders tensed. She looked across the breakfast bar where he'd sat as they'd had this conversation many times before. Each time Catherine had brought up the idea of quitting NYPD so they could be together and have a chance at living a normal life Vincent had adamantly opposed her.

"No. You being a cop is not the problem," Vincent had said, glaring across at her.

"Me being a cop is a huge part of our problem," Catherine had retorted. "Look at all the insane situations we've experienced. More than half of them went haywire because I'm a cop."

"How?" Vincent said with a scowl.

"All of the problems with hiding you – a fugitive – wouldn't exist if I wasn't a cop," Catherine said. "I wouldn't be committing a crime when I lie about you if I wasn't a cop. Lowen would never have found you if I wasn't a cop. Hell, a lot of my cases that have nothing to do with you got you roped into helping out in one way or another, exposing you to Murfield, the police and every other psycho out there."

Vincent stood, walked over and gazed out the window. "I don't buy it. Most of those things would have happened even if you weren't a cop."

"Bullshit, Vincent. For a guy smart enough to be a physician you can be pretty …" she stuttered for a moment, "… obtuse."

Vincent turned and looked at her, one corner of his mouth curving up. "Obtuse?"

"Well, I was going to say 'dumber than a brick', but I'm trying to be diplomatic here," Catherine said.

Vincent's grin broke through. "Dumber then a brick?

Catherine just looked at him.

"You think I'm dumber than a brick?" he repeated.

Catherine scowled. "You know exactly what I mean."

"Yeah. You think I'm dumber than a brick," he continued to smirk.

"Quit being a jerk," Catherine said. "I'm trying to be serious here."

Vincent's smirk disappeared. "So am I. If we want to talk about being dumber than a brick, I think quitting your job would fit in that category."

"Why are you so dead set against it? It's just a job. I'll get another one."

Vincent stepped back to his side of the breakfast bar. "It's not just a job. It's who you are, Catherine. You live and breathe being a police officer. And the reason is – you're good at it." He paused, then corrected himself. "No, you're not just good at it, you're the best. It's your calling. You can walk away from a job. But you don't just walk away from your calling. If you do that, you take something away from the world." Vincent nodded his head and finished with conviction in his voice. "As a cop you make a difference. You make the world a better place. You don't just walk away from something like that."

Anger surged in Catherine's chest. "You did," she said, vehemently.

Vincent jerked back. "What?"

"You did. You quit being a doctor to join the army and fight in Afghanistan."

"That's different."

"Oh … please! It's exactly the same. I've seen you work. I've seen what it does to you when you help others. It's like you've been reborn. You have a gift. You're not just a doctor, you're a healer. You took that away from the world when you quit and joined the Army."

Vincent huffed out a breath. "What's done is done. That was well over a decade ago. And we're not talking about me, we're talking about you."

"So … talking about you is off limits?" Catherine asked.

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean …" Vincent threw up his hands and let out a frustrated growl. "I'm gonna take a shower." He turned and walked toward the bathroom, his shoulders slumped.

The thought of a shower pulled Catherine from her memories. She'd just ended her last day as a cop. She was tired and grimy and sweaty. A nice, hot shower sounded really good.

She started toward the bathroom when her phone beeped with a text. She pulled it from her pocket. "Roof," was all it read. Vincent knew she was home.

Normally that message sent warm tingles down her chest, rumbling through her stomach to rest low in her belly, the promise of Vincent's hard body against her soft curves shifting her libido into overdrive. But the tingles she felt now were of doubt. Anxiety twisted her shoulders into painful knots.

Catherine sighed. Her hot shower would have to wait. Vincent was more important. She needed to get this conversation over with. Grabbing her keys from the counter she stepped out of her apartment, pulled the door shut behind her and made her way to the roof.

The humidity of the August evening slapped Catherine in the face as she stepped out onto the roof. The sun was low in the sky and Vincent was staring west, as if following its arc until it disappeared.

He didn't turn to her, his gaze focused out across the city. She looked at his body, recognizing the tenseness in his shoulders, the stiffness of his posture. He was upset, there was no doubt. She wondered what bothered him. Could he have already found out about her quitting the NYPD? Catherine steeled her nerve and walked over to him, stopping just a step behind him and to the side, easily visible in his peripheral vision.

She studied the side of Vincent's face. His eye was squinted and his jaw was clenched, his lips turned down into a frown. Yep. Somehow, he knew.

Catherine moved up beside Vincent, leaned against the brick gunwale of the roof and looked out toward the city. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Finally, with her gaze still on the city, Catherine said, "How'd you find out?"

Vincent released a long breath, but didn't look at her. "Tess called me."

Catherine nodded to herself. Of course Tess would have called him. What did she expect? Tess had been as adamant as Vincent that she not quit her job. Tess had almost tackled her and held her down this afternoon, refusing to let her leave unless she changed her mind and took her badge and pistol back.

Silence took over again. Catherine decided to wait. The ball was in Vincent's court.

After a few minutes Vincent said, "Why didn't you talk to me about it?"

"I did. Several times."

"I mean, why didn't you talk to me about it, today? Before you quit."

"Would you have changed your mind?"

Vincent turned and looked down at Catherine. "No."

Catherine turned toward Vincent. "That's why." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I've thought this through, long and hard. Nothing's changed in my mind. It needed to be done. I did it."

"You can't just throw your career away like it's not important," he said.

Anger flared in Catherine's chest. "I didn't throw my career away. And believe me, Mr. Keller, it is damned important to me." She huffed and turned back to look out toward the city.

"Then why?" Vincent asked. She could hear the frustration in his voice.

"I've told you why."

"Explain it to me again. You told me once I was obtuse. I'm still trying to wrap my arms around your thinking on this. Why did you have to quit your job?"

Catherine turned back to Vincent, her eyes boring holes into his. "Because I love you. Because I want a life with you. Because it was the right thing to do."

Vincent ducked his eyes. "You shouldn't have to do that to be with me."

"My career is not as important as you. The decision to quit was easy and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. The act of quitting was the hard part."

"I can't be responsible for you sacrificing your career," Vincent said.

Ah! There's the rub, Catherine thought. He's afraid I'll blame him if I'm unhappy or if things don't work out.

She looked at the pain in his face as he tried to avoid her eyes. But Catherine's anger didn't ebb. She was tired of Vincent thinking he was responsible for her safety, her decisions, her happiness ... for everything. Because he wasn't.

And every time he tried to protect her, things seemed to go sideways. Well, not every time. He had saved her so many times - beginning ten years ago - she had lost count. His devotion to her was beyond anything rational, and she knew it. He loved her and would sacrifice his life for her. But she didn't need protection from herself.

"We've had this conversation before," Catherine said, "and it's getting old. You need to pull your head out and get over it."

Vincent lifted his eyes, which sparked with defiance. "So … I'm supposed to get over being concerned about you?"

Another hot flash of anger spiked through her. Catherine huffed and rolled her eyes. "You know that's not what I mean. God, you can be such a … guy!"

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Arrgh …" Catherine grunted in frustration. She blew out a breath and turned her back to him, walking toward the roof access door. "I'm hot, I'm tired and I'm soooo done with this discussion. I'm gonna take a shower."

Catherine trudged down the stairs, through her apartment and into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She gazed into the mirror. The woman staring back at her looked tired and … what? … sad? Yes, she was sad. She would miss being a cop. Vincent was right, she was good at it. But she'd had a long and successful run and she was still young. Time to start a new career. Maybe now was the time to go to law school. Catherine groaned at the thought of starting all over again, especially the law school grind. Suddenly she felt twice as tired as before.

Peeling off her sweaty shirt and jeans she threw them in the corner, then stripped out of her bra and panties. Turing the water to almost scalding she stepped into the shower and closed the frosted glass door. Steam rose and filled the small space as the hot water poured over her. Her scalp tingled and every square inch of her skin prickled, turning red from the hot torrent. Catherine let out a long, low moan as the heat and steam and water washed away the physical and emotional detritus of the day.

As the hot, pulsating spray eased the tension in her shoulders Catherine closed her eyes, letting the anger and impatience dissolve and flow out of her body, following the water down the drain. Starting over again would be hard, but she could handle it if it meant living a normal life with Vincent. He'd be there for her, helping her find her way, supporting her, loving her. He always had, since the moment he'd seen her – committing a decade of his life to her before she even knew he existed. God, she loved him. More than anyone – more than anything. They'd make it past this bump in the road and be stronger together because of it.

Above the hum of the spray on her head Catherine heard the bathroom door open and then close. The thunk of the toilet lid being lowered reached her ears and she saw Vincent's shadow through the semi-opaque door as he sit down with a sigh. She let the silence reign while a smile pursed her lips. She turned toward the shower head, letting the water run down her face, flowing over her breasts and down across her flat stomach while she waited patiently. Eventually Vincent broke the silence.

"I am a jerk, aren't I," Vincent said.

Catherine felt her smile grow a little, but she remained silent, the rushing of the water over her ears slightly muffling his voice.

"I got angry because I'm scared. I'm scared I might not be enough for you. That you'll sacrifice your life here in the city for me and I won't live up to that sacrifice."

Silly man, she thought. He'll never really understand how much I love him.

"Instead of being mad," Vincent said, "I should be grateful that you'd sacrifice so much for me. And I am – grateful." He paused for a few moments, then continued. "Sometimes I just can't believe how much you love me."

As he spoke, the sexy, gravelly undertone of his voice made her body perk up and take notice, like it always did. A warm glow moved from her belly downward and it wasn't from the hot water running across her body. She felt her nipples tighten and she licked her already saturated lips.

"Anyway … what I mean is … I'm sorry," Vincent said. "I'll support whatever decision you make. Whatever you need to do…"

He stopped in mid-sentence as Catherine opened the shower door and stepped out toward him, water dripping from her body to floor. She saw him swallow hard and he looked like a deer in the headlights. Reaching out she grasped his hands and pulled him up off the seat and toward her, slowly backing into the shower, under and through the hot pulsing water, pulling him with her the entire way. Catherine reached over and closed the shower door with one hand while pushing a completely clothed Vincent under the shower spray. In seconds he was soaked and Catherine turned her entire attention to him. He still looked stunned and she let out a soft chuckle.

Speechless, he stared at her, his eyes raking over her from head to foot. His gaze changed from surprise to desire and she shuddered in anticipation as she stood naked before him. He looked at her the way a woman wanted a sexy, virile male to look at her – with lust and desire in his eyes

Catherine returned the gaze, taking in the sculpted muscles of his chest and abs, well defined by the wet t-shirt that clung tightly to him. Her body throbbed with need and lust sparked in her chest, coursing down to pool low in her belly.

Catherine pushed Vincent back against the wall, pressing her breasts and stomach against the muscles under his shirt. Grabbing the back of his neck with one hand Catherine pulled Vincent's head down toward her into a searing kiss as steaming water poured over them. Vincent wrapped his arms around Catherine, grabbing her butt with one hand, the other splaying out across her lower back, crushing her against him as their lips fought and tongues danced. Her sparks of lust flared white hot across her nipples as she rubbed her breasts against his chest. She straddled his leg, grinding herself up and down, the roughness of his jeans against her sensitive flesh sending jolts of electricity straight through to her core.

Pulling back from the kiss Catherine closed her eyes and arched her head back, low moans escaping her lips as she concentrated on the intensity between her legs, rubbing harder and faster. Her guttural moans faded as her breath came in quick pants. She heard Vincent's breathing pickup as well as he pulled her harder against his leg, increasing the luscious friction from his jeans on her sex. She ground into him, the overwhelming need in her expanding, pushing her closer to the edge.

Vincent moved the hand on her back to join his other on her butt, locking her into place with no option of escape. His large hands were like steel clamps, forcing her body down on him, trapping her against him while they matched her rhythm as they pushed Catherine up and down against his leg. The unyielding demand of Vincent's hands on her sent another jolt of lust through Catherine and she ground into him as the overwhelming surge of pleasure pulsed through her. Her movement staggered and stopped as she jerked and shook, wave after wave of electrified pleasure engulfing her, stealing sight and sound as she shuddered and gasped. Her legs gave out, but Vincent's strong arms had already pulled her against him, supporting her, protecting her.

Through labored breathing Catherine slowly came back to her senses. Still relying on Vincent to support her weight her breath paused every few seconds as aftershocks rippled through her. Gradually she regained her strength and pulled her wits about her. Catherine looked up at Vincent and for a moment was surprised at the raw lust and passion in his eyes. Then she smiled, realizing she could rock his world even when he had his clothes on.

"Wow …, that was ..." his voice trailed off.

Vincent's husky voice and the darkness of his eyes fanned the flame inside her, heat rising up into her chest again. She consciously changed her smile from pleased to seductive and then winked. His body trembled against her causing her smile to morph yet again, this time into a smirk. She loved that it was she who pleased this beautiful, sexy man, grateful that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

"We're not done," Catherine said, her voice low and still hoarse as she continued to catch her breath.

She squatted down, working on the button and zipper of his jeans. Vincent took the hint and pulled his soaked shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the shower floor. Catherine pulled his jeans and boxers down to his ankles and Vincent stepped out of them, kicking them to the side.

Her breath hitched as Vincent's obvious desire presented itself before her, reigniting the heat in her core. She reached out and grasped his arousal, moving her head closer to him, wanting to taste him, to pleasure him as he had her. But Vincent grasped her shoulders and pulled her back to her feet in front of him. A groan of frustration left her lips and she gave Vincent her best pout.

His laugh came out like a croak between heavy breaths. He pulled her into his chest, pressing his hard muscles into her breasts, her nipples stiffening painfully at the touch of flesh against flesh. Leaning down Vincent whispered into Catherine's ear, "I love you. And I want you."

It was her turn to shudder against him.

In one fluid motion Vincent clasped his large hands over her petite hips and spun her around, pushing her up against the shower's far wall. She braced herself with her hands and felt Vincent pull her hips back toward him, tilting her pelvis up. Catherine trembled as Vincent rubbed his length up and down her sex, teasing her as he nudged against her. She teased back, wiggling her hips and pushing against him, almost breathless with the anticipation of having him inside her.

She wanted this man, the man that she loved. Despite their argument, despite their frustration with each other, she needed him. Disagreements were part of life and they'd get over this one. But she would never get over needing Vincent in her life. Nothing could take her away from him, nor he from her – she wouldn't allow it. She'd take on anything that threatened their love for each other - even themselves, and by the shear force of her will, ground it into submission. And if this was her only reward – his body against hers, driving her on, pushing her toward bliss – then that was enough.

As if he'd read her thoughts Vincent slid against her and entered her. Catherine gasped as Vincent let out a low groan. He paused as Catherine regained her breath and then began to move slowly, setting a delicious rhythm. Catherine moaned in pleasure as Vincent quickened his pace. She turned to look at him over her shoulder, his feral and needy eyes captured by hers.

Vincent's hands locked tight around Catherine's waist, pulling her to him as he drove his hips in and out, pulsating waves of pleasure coursing through her. Even though he pulled her back toward him, he leaned forward against her, pushing her into the shower wall, his weight upon her enthralling her even more. Catherine pushed back against Vincent, reveling in the power of his thrusts. She squeezed, tightening her walls around him. Vincent let out a gasp, his eyes growing darker, his thrusts coming faster. She knew he wouldn't last long now.

As waves of pleasure danced through her body Catherine continued to lock eyes with Vincent. She studied him. He was beautiful, and powerful, and vulnerable, letting her see his essence fully as her body took him in and made him come undone.

Vincent's thrusts staggered as he lost his rhythm and his breathing spiked, his eyes closing and his head tipped back. Hands clamped down on her hips as his body shuddered and jerked while he emptied himself into her.

Catherine continued to watch him over her shoulder as the warmth of him filled her, spreading through every fiber of her being. Joy exploded in her heart as Vincent tilted his head back down and captured her eyes again, the love in them undeniable. Her breath caught as his lips turned into up in to a soft smile. God, he was the most beautiful thing that had ever come into her life. As he leaned forward and brushed a soft kiss on her lips she sighed.

Vincent stepped back and slowly guided Catherine up and turned her toward him, pulling her into him, wrapping his arms around her. Hot water continued to cascade over them as he rocked her back and forth in his arms.

"I'm sorry I was such a jerk," he whispered into her ear, his voice still raw and his breathing still quick from their lovemaking.

"You weren't a jerk," she responded, wrapping her arms around his waist, grabbing his butt and pulling herself into him. "You were just loving me, protecting me. No one's ever loved me that much before."

"Still, I should have treated you with more respect. It's just … I want you to be happy. And I don't want to be the cause of pain in your life."

Catherine pulled back and looked up into Vincent's eyes. "You make me happy, beyond anything I thought possible. And if there's any pain for loving you, it's a small price to pay and I would happily endure it for a thousand years if I got to spend them all with you."

Vincent leaned down, his lips finding hers. The kiss was soft and slow, growing deeper and warmer. Not a kiss of passion, but a kiss of love and commitment and understanding. Eventually the kiss ended as softly as it began. Catherine buried her head into Vincent's chest as he pulled them further under the warm spray of water.

"I'll support what ever decisions you make, one hundred percent," he said. "Which means that I support you quitting the NYPD."

At his words of support Catherine wondered how her heart could grow even warmer, but it did.

"Now what?" Vincent asked.

"We've got the whole world at our feet," Catherine said. She felt him nod his head in agreement, his chin bumping the top of her head. "But for now I just want to stand here, with you – at least until the water gets cold."

Vincent chuckled and squeezed his arms tighter around her.

Catherine smiled to herself and let out a contented sigh.

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