A/N - Feeling blue tonight so I'm uploading the first chapter of a new story just for my own enjoyment, lol!

If Ever I Would Leave You

Chapter 1

Completely drained, Vincent finally rolled away from her, turning toward the window. Catherine already faced away from him in the opposite direction. It was always so difficult—that moment when he had to disengage from her. It took him long moments to adjust—for his breathing to slow, his heart to stop pounding, but most of all for the longing to ease. Parting was hard. His body screamed against it, his soul felt torn in two—but he knew it had to be done; if they touched, even in the smallest way, he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her and would keep her awake the rest of the night. She needed her sleep. But that didn't mean it was easy to do. She was always so sweet about it, about asking to be let go. She would look at him, the drowsiness already heavy on her fine features, those slumberous eyes so full of love. Then she'd run her hand across his cheek, her thumb over his chin, and reach up to gently touch his lips with hers. It was their signal. She didn't want to leave him—she made that clear—but they had to part in order for her to get some rest. They'd gone much longer into the night than usual this time. But God help him, he couldn't resist her. He wanted so much more.

It hadn't been this way before—before she made her choice. No, the time prior to his kidnapping by Muirfield had been a time of discovery between them. It had been joyous, amazing, sometimes frantic, and always surprising. This was different—so much deeper—as if their hearts were as entwined as their limbs. One was an extension of the other. He sighed. They weren't together every night. He knew better than to monopolize her like that. And some mornings he left before dawn because that was the easier thing to do, but oh how he wished he didn't have to.

He didn't need sleep like she did, of course. He was as wide awake in the early hours as he was when they retired.

As he fought the separation, fought the tremendous pull he felt toward her and the unbelievably strong desire to hold her through the night and wake up with her in his arms, he breathed slowly in and out while lying still and listening to the gentle slowing of her heartbeat until it reached that deep, resonating point when she'd drift off into unconsciousness. It amazed him every time. In contrast, his senses were wide awake—tantalized by the fragrance of her hair, the sweet perfume of her skin, the musky warmth of the bedding that still billowed around him. It was agony at the same time as pure pleasure. He'd never fall asleep, himself, until she did, but waiting for it was slow torture.

Through the darkness he could see the snow fall outside the window. To pull his mind into submission, he concentrated on that, listening for the tiny 'pat' as each snowflake fell against the glass, ending its downward spiral there. The past few days the city had endured a devastating and dangerous storm. While he knew that, and the problems it caused, he couldn't help but be awed by the gentle silence it created. The streets were quiet. And then the thought came to him - snow was like grace. It made everything it touched beautiful and calm—even black and ugly things, the filth in the alleyways. It covered it all, just like Catherine's love and acceptance covered him.

Pat. Pat. Pat. The wind had died some time during the night and now the flakes fell heavy and wide against the pane, their lazy downward drift easy and peaceful. Catherine's heart still pounded, an odd contrast. After a few minutes, he realized it wasn't slowing down. He looked over at her in the dark. Her shoulders were shaking. What was this? Was she laughing? Teasing him? Oh, God.

"Catherine?"

When she didn't answer, Vincent rolled toward her and leaned up on one elbow and gently pulled her back over toward him. She was crying.

"What is it?" he asked, fearful now. "Did I hurt you?"

There were always moments in their coming together when he partially transformed. Despite everything, their melding had such a powerful effect on him he nearly always felt that rush, that elemental surge of power at some point—unable to hold it back. Because of Catherine's total trust and acceptance of every part of him, he allowed some small measure of his beast through—because that part of him loved her, too. But, except for the first days of his return, he'd always been able to remain in control, to keep from hurting her. That he would do it now frightened him to death.

"Sweetheart? What have I done?"

He reached an arm over her to switch on the lamp above the head board. She turned tear-filled eyes to him and reached once more for his cheek, shaking her head when she couldn't speak, assuring him she wasn't hurt. Perhaps she felt his distress, he didn't know, but she finally calmed down enough to speak. She pulled his face to hers, their noses pressed together. "Oh, Vincent, you don't know what you do to me."

He stared, unsure. "You're okay?"

She nodded. "Just overwhelmed. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I just couldn't hold it in."

He understood exactly what she meant and felt incredibly humbled by it. "No. Shhh." He soothed her with the gentle spread of his fingers in her hair. "I just didn't understand." At her expression, his own eyes filled. He knew that feeling of being overwhelmed very well. That she would feel the same way made him ache. What a precious gift she was!

He snaked his arms around her once more. The hell with sleeping. He'd find the restraint he needed to hold her all night long if it killed him. Some things were worth any amount of suffering. Snuggling her into the cradle of his chest, he rested his head against the silk of her hair. He'd stay awake all night if that's what it took.

She sighed her contentment then whispered, "Don't leave me."

He knew she meant not separating, but he felt her words much deeper. "Never. And don't you ever leave me, either."

By morning they were snowed in. The roads, most of them anyway, were impassable despite the continuous drone of snowplows up and down the lanes in front of her apartment. New York City was going to be challenged this day. Jolted awake by her alarm clock, Catherine rose obediently. Vincent got to his feet as well, dressed, and headed to the kitchen to start the coffee.

"You need to check on JT," she told him from the bathroom.

"I'll make sure you get to work, first."

She peered out at the already busy streets clogged with as many pedestrians as cars. "Yeah, so not looking forward to that. Not that I have a choice."

Catherine listened to the weather forecast with a frown. The metropolitan area was slated to get dumped on throughout the day, despite having already received six inches of new snow in the last 24 hours. This was getting ridiculous.

"I'm going down to the garage to get you chained up."

She smiled and handed him the keys. That would give her a few extra minutes before she had to leave. Her police-issued chains would get her through the streets more easily than most, but traffic would still be a nightmare. "Have I told you today how wonderful you are?"

He paused in the hallway and turned toward her. "I think I need reminding. Here." He tapped his lips.

"So greedy," she teased and kissed him again.

"It's your own fault, you know," he shrugged. "You make me crazy."

He left her smiling.

Catherine headed out not long after and Vincent left for the club. After stopping for coffee, as Tess's request, she took a turn past the club out of habit and found Vincent in the street helping a driver get away from the curb. She pulled in behind them and got out.

He waved to her.

"What are you doing? Playing the Good Samaritan?" she asked, watching his backside. Too bad it wasn't a summer rain. She could envision those muscular arms beneath his jacket straining with the effort-but what a sight to see. She sighed. The car finally got some traction and pulled away.

He shrugged and waved the driver off. "JT just left for class. I thought I'd make myself useful. This corner is turning out to be treacherous. People need help."

She reached up on her tip-toes to kiss him. "And you're the perfect person to do that."

Her warm breath surrounded them and he stayed in close. "Because I have to atone for my sins. And that's the third car stuck here this morning." He lifted her off her feet and onto the sidewalk where it was safer. Cars were shuffling by one after the other.

"No," she answered. "Because you have a good heart and a good, strong back."

He smiled and kissed her again. "You sure you have to go in today? I'm going to worry the entire time. The conditions are only going to get worse."

"Crime doesn't stop just because of the weather," she said. "You know, neither rain nor sleet nor snow—"

"—that's the mailman's creed."

"Same difference. Gotta a job to do, as you very well know."

"I just wish I could be with you. This heavy snowfall is creating havoc all over the city. JT's classes will probably be cancelled, but they hadn't called it before he had to leave. He's going to be ticked."

"And I thought the Christmas Day storm was bad. This is turning out to be ten times worse. Thankfully, my chains are doing the trick, thanks to you. But baby, it's cold outside."

"You know," he pulled her in close again. "I can help with that."

"Yes, you can," she smiled up at him and those entrancing dimples, and spared a little sigh of regret. "And I would totally take you up on that, but I've got coffee cooling in my car for Tess, and—"

Another car rolled by, skidding into the curve.

"Uh-oh."

"Go," she said to him. "Go help. I just stopped by to say hi. I told Tess I'd pick her up her favorite caramel macchiato on my way in. This was only a little detour."

He smiled, regretful that he had to leave to go help. "You can stop by anytime."

"I'll come by after work."

"Okay."

A low rumble started in the distance, quickly turning to a roar and shaking the icy ground they stood on. They both turned to the east.

"What was that?"

"An avalanche?" she joked.

Vincent swallowed. "Sounded a lot like a building collapsing." September eleventh all over again. Please God, no. More distant or smaller, but so similar it stopped the breath in his chest.

Catherine didn't have time to respond, her cell and car radio went off at the same time. She turned to him apologetically. "I have to run!"

"Go. I'll be fine."

Not the way he wanted to separate from her. A small, dirty cloud rose in the distance—it had to be a plume of ash from whatever had collapsed. He ignored the next car that slid into the curb and ran for the club.