Disclaimer: Beauty and The Beast (2012), and all its characters belong to the CW and the show's creators. I am jut an avid fan who loves twisting the stories around.
Any reproduction of this story, in whole or in part, is strictly prohibited without the author's written consent.
Let My Soul Out
Prologue
"Vincent?" she repeated in utter disbelief. What was he doing there? It had been years and she never thought she'd see him again.
She watched dumbstruck as the other officers cuffed him and hoisted him into the air by the back of his belt and dragged him towards a holding cell. Her mouth agape as she watched him go, his eyes still locked on hers.
"Cat? Catherine?" Evan's voice broke the spell and she turned towards him.
"Yeah?" she responded absently as her eyes momentarily returned to the spot where Vincent had been a moment before, he was gone now, but the effects of seeing him still lingered.
"Shall we go?" Evan smiled and walked towards her.
"Yeah. Let's go," she said with a forced smile as she took the arm he offered her and walked together out of the precinct. Once outside Evan tried to persuade her to take his car, but Cat was stubborn and insisted on driving herself.
"I'll be right behind you," she said with a smirk as Evan looked back her as she stood, half inside the car and half out, watching him get into his own vehicle.
"Sure this isn't your clever way to stand me up?" he teased.
"I will if you don't get in the car," she retorted with the same lightness that he exuded. Evan was a happy person, she'd have to say. He was serious about his work, thorough and utterly dedicated, but outside of that he still found a way to make every day just a little brighter for her, even if it was with one of his ridiculous jokes or his thinly-veiled attempts at catching her attention. He wasn't subtle about his attraction to her, but he wasn't obnoxious about it either, he managed to find some strange balance to it all and truth be told he'd worn her down.
Cat had been avoiding relationships of any sort since her break up with Zeke, the musician wannabe, who had managed to hold her attention for four months before she broke it off. He had been a good guy, a bit of a flake when it came to the reality that he was not Jimi Hendrix, but good all the same. The fault hadn't been his that they failed. The problem lay within her.
"You're going to make me pull off first aren't you?" She shook her head as Evan watched her intently. "Fine! I'll move first, but you're buying the first round," she declared before sliding behind the wheel.
Evan smirked satisfied. "I can agree to those terms." A moment later they were both on their way to O'Callaghan's.
The pub, because it was of that than a bar, with its traditional pub arrangements and its selection of classic liquor: whiskey, scotch, brandy, and other like drinks. There were no cosmopolitans or martinis to be had here, just straight liquor, which was why it was a favourite with so many on the force. O'Callaghan's was sort of the unofficial meeting place of the NYPD. When you had a bad day and needed to wash it away you found yourself at the bar talking to Lou, the owner, and drinking a straight scotch. Many of those who had served and died on the force had their pictures adorning the walls. Yes O'Callaghan's served the general public, but from ten until three it belonged solely to the members of the NYPD. It wasn't an official rule, but everyone knew it.
Three hours later Cat sat across from Evan in their own private both, several rounds in. Her jacket sat beside her on the red leather seat as did his. They were laughing over their respective whiskeys, the day forgotten for the most. "You know, this is the first time you've ever agreed to go out with me. Usually we find ourselves on our own when the rest of the precinct is out for drinks. Progress Detective Chandler?" Evan sipped his whiskey as he watched her.
Cat laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly at his observation. "Maybe Mr Marks," she said returning his gaze. "Maybe." She looked up at him and for a moment he disappeared and before her eyes were seven smiling faces, each person dressed in army fatigues. Her hearing became slightly hollow and she blinked rapidly and shook her head to right it, looking away from Evan and taking another long sip of her drink.
"So you were telling me about your awkward teen years," Evan joked, unaware are the slight change.
"Right. Where did I leave off?" she asked between sips.
"The senior dance. I believe you said it was an eighties themed event," he said as the thought made him chuckle.
"Right. I went with Vincent Zalanski. I had the biggest crush on him. He had blue eyes and jet black hair. Sort of James Dean kind of look going on," she mused as she recalled the boy who had preoccupied much of her childhood fantasies. Unfortunately she was shy and never got the courage to admit her feelings until he asked her to his senior dance. "I wore a hideous yellow taffeta dress with spaghetti straps and silver shoes."
"You remember it very well don't you," Evan remarked smirking at her. "A memorable event?"
"Yeah, it was I guess. I had never been asked to a dance before and it made me feel special to be one of the youngest people there and that he'd chosen me as his date." She leaned back against the leather and sighed. "Gosh, I even remember what we danced to," she said as she was overcome by laughter. "Juice Newton's Angel of the Morning. I loved that song after that. I used to listen to it every day." She sipped her drink as her head shook lightly in amusement. "I haven't heard it in years."
Evan watched Catherine with an interest that never faltered. He took in the way her eyes light up when she laughed and the tiny hollows her dimples made in her cheeks when she smiled. He'd seen some stunning women in his life, Clair , Daphne Finnerty and a host of others, but Catherine was something else. She wasn't just beautiful on the outside, but it was what was inside her that drew him in. The expression in her eyes, her dedication to her work, even the way she kept herself apart from everything and everyone around her, brought him further and further into her web.
"Hey Lou, that thing work?" Evan asked as he nodded towards the jukebox in the corner.
"Yeah, but no one plays it."
Evan looked at Cat with a smile. "Evan? What are you up to?" she asked, but her question was barely out of her lips before he was walking away from their both towards the jukebox. She watched him with a grin tickling the corners of her mouth as a moment later the familiar piano chords wafted from the speakers and Judy Kay began to sing. She couldn't believe it was in there. Each chord brought some pleasant memory.
Evan approached with a confident grin, "Detective?" he extended his hand to her.
She wanted to say no, she did, but in that moment she couldn't make herself. She took his hand and let him lead her to a small vacant space amongst the sea of tables and chairs. He pulled her close to him, his hand resting on the small of her back as the other grasped her right hand. They began to sway back and forth to the music. In a surprise move he spun her out and brought her back into his steadfast frame, forcing a shocked laugh to escape her.
"Why Mr Marks, I do believe someone's taken dancing lesson in his life," she mused as she looked up at him.
Evan grinned in return. "I had a very traditional mother. She thought a man wasn't a gentleman unless he knew how to treat a woman like a lady," he explained. "Dancing was part of it."
"I like your mother's style," she commented.
It had been so long since she'd been held like this and Cat found herself falling into the feeling of comfort and easy that she had Evan had been developing between one another over the past months. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. The moment she did her vision was once again blurred and she was met by those same faces that had intruded upon her earlier that evening, but this time they weren't smiling but wordlessly shouting and screaming. Her eyes immediately opened.
"Hey you two, closing up in a minute," Lou informed from behind the bar. Evan nodded is acknowledgement as Cat slowly stepped away from him, a nervousness filling her stomach that she couldn't explain.
"Well it seems that we're being chased off," Evan mused. "Shall I see you home?"
She could see the hopefulness in his eyes, he was patient with her if nothing else, but she couldn't give him what he wanted right now.
"Not tonight," she said with a nervous clearing of her throat. "I think I'm still pretty good to get home on my own."
"Next time maybe?" He stepped towards her again. "And maybe you'll let me drive. And maybe it can be Nobu instead of O'Callaghan's?" He brushed a strand of hair from her face as he slowly leaned in. He'd wanted to do this for months now. The question was would she let him? There was only one way to find out.
She was frozen where she stood, watching as Evan's face closed the gap between them. Did she want to do this? Could she take this step? She didn't have time to answer her own questions as Evan's lips connected with hers and her body responded of its own accord, kissing him back.
They tasted of whiskey and their own unique flavours mingled as their lips parted inviting the other in. Evan's hand rested gently held her arms as if preventing her from breaking the moment. He didn't need to worry, Cat was incapable of moving in protest, she was drunk on the suddenly rush of emotions, not all of which was caused by Evan. Then sudden a face appeared before her closed eyes that shocked her into reaction. She pulled away abruptly, her eyes searching for anything to focus on besides Evan.
He was a bit surprised by the sudden ending of their kiss, but Evan was still content with the fact that it had happened at all. "Cat?" He looked at her questioningly.
"I ah…I…we should go," she said looking over at Lou who was very clearly pretending not to have seen what he just had. She looked up at Evan briefly before going to collect her jacket. She rushed out of the pub, the flush in her face causing her entire body to feel overheated. She needed air.
She stepped into the street, her chest heaving, as she tried to catch her breath. What did she do? And of all the places to do it? They'd be talk. There was no doubt of that. The medical examiner kissing a detective – there would definitely be talk about that. She ran a nervous hand through her mahogany hair just as Evan walked up behind her, his jacket in the process of sliding into place on his shoulders.
"Hey, what happened to you?" he asked, turning her towards him gently.
"Evan, look. We had too much to drink and we were being nostalgic," she looked up at his still face. "We just got caught up in the moment."
He expected this from her. Evan wasn't a fool, he knew that getting through to Catherine would take time, and he'd been more than patient already. He wasn't about to give up just as he was breaking through.
"Cat," he repeated her name as he rubbed her arms gently. "Look, I know what everyone thinks of me. So I understand your apprehension about what just happened, but we did just kiss, and you…you didn't push me away." He smirked. "I'm just saying give it a chance." He pulled her to him and gently kissed her forehead before stepping back and giving her space. "Good night Detective Chandler." He gave her a respectful nod and then turned towards his car. Cat looked blankly after him, her heart fluttering in her chest.
She stood on the sidewalk for a few moments as she tried to gather her thoughts. She leaned against her car taking deep breaths, when suddenly the sound around her hollowed and her sight seemed to tunnel. The sounds she heard couldn't be found on any New York street. She heard their voices shouting. "Get down! We're under fire! This is Unit Two, Delta Company. We're three clicks West of…" the sound began to falter. "Chandler, are you alright? Chandler? Catherine?" a voice shouted to her, a familiar voice. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight, as she fought the sights and sounds until finally she was alone by her car once more.
Her hands were shaking as she pushed the key into the lock and got behind the wheel. She sat there for several minutes, waiting for her rattling nerves to subside. She hadn't had an episode in so long. She had almost thought they were over, but apparently she was wrong. She looked out the car; there was no doubt the reason for this new occurrence, it was sitting back at the precinct in a holding cell…Vincent.
She took several cleansing breaths before turning the key in the ignition and pulling out swiftly from the curb and into the street. She should have been heading home at that hour, but instead she found her way back to the precinct. A moment later was stepping through the doors she had left just a few hours before, and walking towards the desk.
"Hey Shilters," she said as she placed her hands calmly on top of the sergeant's desk.
"What can I do for you Detective?" he asked, standing out of respect.
"That drunk and disorderly from earlier. You book him yet?" she asked casually.
"Not yet. We thought it best to let the guy sober up a bit. Less difficult to handle that way," the sergeant alluded to the Rambo episode he had witnessed earlier. "He's back there in holding." He smiled to her, "By the way, nice moves bringing him down."
Cat smiled, "Thanks." She hesitated only briefly before asking what she'd come to. "Can I see him?"
"Sure. Go right on back. Fourth cell on the right," he instructed as he opened the gate and allowed her through.
The precinct was quiet, almost eerie, as she walked further inside towards the holding cells. Her heard thumped a Calypso beat in her chest as she got closer to the cells. She could hear nothing but that beat in her ears.
One…
Two…
Three…
She stopped before she reached the fourth cell, every synapse in her body firing as she steeled herself. Finally, she had to make a choice. Go back and forget she saw him or take the two steps needed to face him. Her feet moved, and to her surprise they stepped forward.
He was lying on the cot with this back to the bar, but she knew it was him. He was dressed in faded blue jeans, an olive green jacket and work boots. She looked at him in silence, her hand reaching up to grasp one of the bars as if steadying herself. She didn't speak. She didn't know what to say. What do you say to someone you haven't seen in four years? Hey! Nice to see you? No. There was too much in their past for that. So she waited. Something would come to her. It had to.
"Catherine?" the sound of her name on his raspy voice raised goosebumps over her entire body. She couldn't answer.
He knew it was her. He heard her footsteps as she approached, the hesitation, before they finally stilled. He could feel her watching him. This hadn't been how he'd expected to see her again, if he ever did. She'd made it pretty clear she didn't want him in her life four years ago. Now, to have her see him like this, the pangs of shame stabbed at his stomach.
He turned to face her, swinging his feet onto the floor, his elbows resting on his knees as his hands clasped between them. He looked at her, but couldn't hold her gaze long, as the bars that separated them seemed to double in size.
"I didn't think you'd come back," he finally muttered as he forced himself to once again face her.
"I didn't plan it," she admitted, licking her lips nervously.
She looked around and spotted a metal folding chair down the corridor. She collected it and placed it in front of the cell facing him. She sat, her stance mimicking his, while she tried to think of what to say. The best thing was the simplest wasn't it? "What are you doing here?"
The question burned a hole through his insides, but he knew it was a reasonable one, and not the worst thing she could have asked him. The tension between them filled the space completely. Years of distance made the six steps between where he sat and where she was seem like an impossible breach to cross. Once, there had been no breach, no cavern separating them. They had relied on each other utterly. They didn't have a choice.
"I uh…" he shook his head as he vaguely recollected the circumstances that led to him being a guest of the NYPD. "I was down at O'Toole's. I guess I had too much or something," he didn't look at her as he spoke. "Some guy said something. I said something back. The next thing I knew the boys in blue were trying to force me into a cell." He smirked slightly as he glanced up at her. "Then I was flat on my back." Her eyes met his. "You're work I believe."
Catherine's voice faltered. "Yeah. I…I didn't know it was you."
He sat up. "I doubt you would have done anything different if you knew it we me before you acted." He gave her his signature crocked grin.
She tried to not smirk back but she couldn't help it. "No. No, I wouldn't have." She ran her hand through her hair, pulling it over her left shoulder, their moment of lightness fading as quickly as it appeared.
Several minutes passed as they looked at each other in silence, neither sure what they should say, but both having things they wished they couldn't and as many that they wished would never become a subject of conversation. Finally, Catherine acted. She stood, looking at Vincent intently. She nodded to him slightly and then turned on her heels and walked back to the front desk.
"Hey Shilters," she said as she approached the desk sergeant. "Look," she began once she had his attention. "I know this isn't exactly protocol, but the drunk and disorderly, think you can spring him for me? Just let him off with a warning?" her eyes were gently as she spoke.
"Detective, I can't just…"
"Look, I know this isn't procedure and I wouldn't normally ask but…" she took a deep breath. "Can I level with you Shilters?" He nodded that she could. "The drunk and disorderly. He was in my unit in Afghanistan." Her eyes became distant as she spoke, "He saved my life," she finished, as her eyes returned to the man before her. "I owe him."
Shilters looked at Catherine in shock. Everyone knew she's served in Afghanistan, but she'd never spoken about it before, not to anyone. He didn't know what to do. He looked at her intently. "He saved your life you say?" She nodded. He did the same. "Okay," he tossed her the keys. "He gets a pass just this once."
She smiled, catching the keys and turning back to the cells. "Detective!" she stopped and looked back. "Just because it's you, and for what he's done for his country. He comes back here…he's getting booked." She swallowed and nodded. He flashed a smile and Catherine turned back to where Vincent was waiting.
She moved faster on this second trip, adrenaline in her veins at what she was doing. She needed to get him out before anyone else showed up to ask questions. She marched up the cell and pushed the key in the lock. Vincent stood immediately, bewilderment on his face. "Catherine?"
"You're outta here," she said as she pulled open the door. Vincent didn't move. He could see the nervousness in her mannerisms as she looked in the direction from whence she'd come. "Get your stuff and let's go!" she ordered. His chin rose slightly and he grabbed his baseball cap and shoved it on his head as she walked past her. She locked the cell and followed after him.
"Shilters!" she called, tossing the keys back to the sergeant as she stepped in front of Vincent. They'd reached the gate and he'd faltered unsure whether he should move forward or not. Catherine looked at him as she unlocked the small wooden impediment and ushered him through. She pulled it closed behind her once she was on the other side. She looked back at the sergeant. "I owe you one," she said with a big smile.
"Detective. We're square." She looked at the sergeant and smiled once more. He smiled back. She nodded, a tiny gesture, and then turned towards the door.
She stepped out in the cold night air, her breath billowing before her. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans before she noticed the figure standing on her right. It was Vincent. She started but quickly composed herself as he stepped out from the shadows, his hands also buried within his pockets and the collar of his jacket pulled up to his ears.
They stepped around each other until they were facing, the tension that had been there before still present even without the confines of a cell. They were both nervous and they could feel it.
"Catherine, what you just did…"
"No need to say anything," she interrupted. "I owed you." She could barely look at him.
"Yeah," he replied uncertainly. "Of course that's why you did it."
She rocked on her heels but didn't answer. He watched her but she refused to look at him. Vincent's jaw flexed as he contemplated what to say. She didn't give him the chance.
"Right," she said dismissively as she forced herself to look at him. "If you find yourself in here again I can't help you."
"I know that."
"Good." She licked her lips nervously. He watched the small flicking of her tongue. "Take care of yourself."
"You too." He said to her back, his raspy voice deepening slightly with the effort it took to watch her walk away from him. He watched her back for several moments before he was able to force himself to turn around towards home. His boot thudded against the pavement, an echo of something inside him that wasn't quite right. He turned back only once to see where she was, before he turned the corner and disappeared into the nearest subway entrance.
Catherine, didn't look back as she made her way to her car, but she could sense him watching. As she sat behind the wheel, the engine on and everything set for her to move off, she found that she couldn't. After feeling like she had finally found some form of normal, there he was again; reminding her of all the things she wanted to forget. She gripped the wheel as she rested her forehead against. Why did this have to happen right now?
She looked up finally, her face flushed. It would be morning soon. She needed to get some rest before she had to be back in office and was forced to face another day knowing that Vincent Keller was back in New York.
Author's Note:
So did you love last night's episode or what? I certainly did! So happy Catherine finally admitted her feelings, even if it wasn't to Vincent. She's making progress. Check out the previews for the next episode...Alex is going to find out that Cat is far from Vincent's handler. Am I horrible for looking forward to that? I don't think so :)
Here is the song for this chapter: watch?v=HTzGMEfbnAw - Angel of the Morning by Juice Newton
Find it on youtube.
See you next chapter!
