After that day and night spent together in Catherine's apartment, everything seemed to change between them. Vincent visited her on the balcony rarely at first, ashamed of his behavior before. And Catherine did not express her longing to him through the bond. Instead, she accepted his distance without complaint, hiding the ache in her heart as much as possible.

On the rare occasion when he did come to her, he made sure to have a reason beyond simply wishing to see her: an invitation for the children's next recital, one of Rebecca's latest candles, even a slice of one of William's cakes. She accepted whatever he offered with subdued excitement, as though she kept her true emotions bound up behind a dam so as not to unnerve him with their strength. But Vincent recognized the change in her ever since that night. Her sleep had suffered, and dark circles had taken permanent residence below her eyes. As well, she no longer greeted him with her arms out wide, ready for his embrace. Instead, she opened her balcony doors slowly, approaching him with hesitant steps and careful movements.

Vincent soon realized that his bravery in the past had been nothing but acceptance of Catherine's eager touch. Now, he did not reach for her as often or with as much certainty as she had shown with him. But the deep yearning from her remained the same, and when her heart finally cried out for some material acknowledgment of their love, he would step forward and envelope her in his arms.

In those moments, Catherine melted into him, her emotions awash with thankfulness as she savored the warmth of his body against hers. Sometimes he felt a tingling of more, but she banished such thoughts immediately. To her, they were like dry tinder and even a spark of her desire might alight them both with devastating flames.

For his part, Vincent treasured his rare moments with Catherine. But at the same time, he anxiously anticipated the loss of her. Having given her permission to find fulfillment elsewhere, he knew it was only a matter of time before her sublimated physical desire broke free of the tight confines in which she kept it, her body and soul seeking the arms of another.

On one rare and precious evening on her balcony, they sat huddled together with their backs to the terrace wall. Summer had come and gone with only a handful of visits between them, summer rains having required his attention below while the hot-weather surge of criminal prosecutions having kept her at the office extra hours each week. But now, the season was turning and the warm weather had taken a more chill turn, leading Vincent to drape his cloak around her shoulders. Catherine tucked into his side, letting her head rest comfortably against his chest.

The intimate position was likely the closest they had been since that evening, and neither seemed eager to be the first to break apart. Vincent read aloud from a copy of Jane Eyre he had brought with him from below. His literature class had been studying the novel, and he eagerly wished to share young Samantha's passion for the volume.

"I remember reading it for the first time in college," Catherine remarked with a smile. "I didn't really identify with Jane, but I understood when she fell for Mister Rochester."

"I always admired her spirit," Vincent stated, thinking of his own first introduction to the orphaned child in the care of an unfeeling aunt and abusive cousins. "She always adhered to her beliefs, even when it would have been easier to give in to the moment."

He thought, of course, about the moment when Jane discovered Mr. Rochester's living wife on the morning of what should have been her wedding. When faced with the choice of becoming Mr. Rochester's mistress, she had not trusted herself to resist his love and instead had fled into the night with only the clothes on her back, nearly dying in the process.

Catherine sighed, and he could feel her contentment like a warm blanket smoothed across them both. "And through her perseverance and conviction, Jane ended up with the love she always wanted," she observed softly.

Knowing the story as well as he did, Vincent realized that she spoke of Jane's refusal to marry her cousin, a marriage of convenience which would have taken her on a missionary trip abroad likely leading to her death. Instead, Jane held out for the love of her life, knowing even as she did so that would likely never again see her love. Until, of course, the very end of the book.

"She ended up being more nursemaid than wife," Vincent suggested. He often made exactly that comment for the benefit of his students, knowing as he did how often they would argue the point.

But Catherine simply shrugged one shoulder. "She also became a wife and mother. He gave her more purpose than she would have had merely as his mistress."

Her easy acceptance surprised him at first, but then Vincent realized how easily it reconciled with Catherine's own nature. She so frequently accepted the bad with the good, the gruesome with the beautiful. For one brought up with such wealth and privilege, he would have expected her standards in life to be greater. But she had always found something to treasure in even the most difficult of circumstances.

Before he could say anything more, they both froze at the sound of her phone ringing inside the apartment. For several long moments, neither moved, and he suspected she might simply ignore it entirely rather than leave his side.

"You should answer," he prompted her, and then added with reassurance, "I can wait."

Smiling her thanks, Catherine disengaged from their cozy cocoon and hurried inside to grab the phone from its cradle.

"Hello?"

Vincent tried not to listen, but her voice carried to him clearly through her open French doors.

"Oh, that sounds lovely. I haven't been in so long. Are you sure…?" She paused, listening. Then, she laughed. The sound of her amusement, free from pain or guilt, was lovely. "Well, when you put it like that, how could I refuse!"

Within moments, she had finalized whatever plans she had made with the person on the other end of the line and jotted a few notes into the day planner she kept in her purse. Once the conversation was through, she hung up the phone and returned to the balcony with a smile on her face.

He did not even need to ask. She quickly settled back against him, more relaxed now as she explained the phone call. "An old friend of mine from law school recently started at the DA's office, in the trial division. We're meeting for dinner on Thursday and then making use of some extra tickets to the ballet."

While thoughts of her newly made engagement clung to her for a few seconds, within moments, Catherine was lost once again in the cadence of Vincent's voice. He Began reading again, and her eyes closed as he read from the novel they both knew so well. She said nothing more about the phone call, but he found himself curious about this 'old friend.' Something about her emotions seemed different, as though she were hiding something from both of them.

Unable to ask her, Vincent simply continued to read until her body relaxed against him in slumber. Only then did he stop and look at her openly, without restraint or moderation. Catherine's beauty filled his eyes and his soul, replenishing within him a reserve which never seemed to fully fill. No matter how much time they spent together, he always wanted more. But with a sigh, he reminded himself that he might soon be required to make do without such evening, as scarce as they were.

"Hey, Radcliffe, what's the rush?" Joe Maxwell demanded, partially in jest as he watched his star investigator packing up her briefcase at the early hour of 5:30pm.

Technically, the work day had already ended, but Cathy Chandler often worked well into the evening. She rarely left the office before seven, especially in the past few weeks. But on this day, she seemed actually excited to be headed home, something which caught Joe's attention.

"I'm meeting someone," she answered him with a smile.

"Oh, a hot date."

Joe tried to ignore the strange mixture of jealousy and protectiveness he felt whenever Cathy deigned to make any mention of her personal life.

"Not exactly," she said with a laugh. "Justin, the newest addition to our trial division, has an extra ticket to the ballet."

"Justin?" he noted with surprise. Of all the people who might have attracted the ex-debutant's attention in their office, Justin Curtis would not have made even his top ten list, and that was excluding his own humble bid for such a sought-after position.

"We went to Columbia together," Cathy explained. "I'm looking forward to the opportunity to catch up."

Nodding in understanding, Joe said jokingly, "Okay, Radcliffe. Have fun. Tell him to have you home by ten."

"Joe…" she admonished with a grin.

"Okay, fine. Eleven. Or I'll have to start scheduling you for early morning depositions." He added the last part with a wink, and Cathy laughed as she shook her head at him.

The cab ride home took longer than expected, and Catherine had only a few minutes to change, having forsaken her desire for a shower in exchange for being on time.

As she might have expected from someone so prompt, her buzzer went off at exactly seven o'clock. She had just finished putting on the last touches of make-up and her earrings, and she held a matching necklace in hand as she crossed the living room to answer the door.

The man on the other side was older and heavier-set than she recalled, but she recognized his kind expression all the same. When they had first met, he had been clean shaven and medium build. But now, he sported a beard and a mustache streaked with gray. As well, he now carried at least an extra fifty pounds around his midsection. While his hair had been spared the graying she saw in his beard, it was definitely succumbing to the ravages of time, appeared thinner and further back than she recalled.

"Justin!" she exclaimed, at the exact moment he breathed a delighted, "Cathy!"

He did not hesitate to pull her in for a hug, and she returned it with perhaps more enthusiasm than she anticipated. The touch of another person, something she had only been privy to in moderation of late, gave her unexpected pleasure as he squeezed her firmly against him without a hint of reservation.

"I've missed you," she told him with a smile.

"Same here," he returned before releasing her. Taking a step back, he looked her up and down before stating appraisingly, "You look lovely as ever."

Blushing slightly, Catherine responded, "Thank you. I just need to slip on some shoes and put on this necklace and then I'll be ready."

"Here, let me help," Justin offered automatically.

Taking the piece of jewelry from her hand, his large but deft fingers quickly moved around her to drape the delicate gold chain around her neck and affix it in the back. While Catherine usually wore the crystal Vincent had given her on their first anniversary, on this occasion she had chosen one of her mother's gold pieces to highlight the red hue of her strapless dress.

A moment later, she had found the shoes matching her dress and grabbed her clutch before turning to Justin.

"I'm ready if you are," she told him with a smile, accepting his easily offered arm.

As she turned off the apartment light behind her, Catherine never noticed the dark figure standing on her balcony, watching with anxious eyes as she left with another man.

"Do you remember Professor Ross?" Cathine asked, a smile already alighting her features. Dinner and the ballet had made for an enjoyable evening, and she had invited Justin in for a cup of tea when he'd dropped her off at her building.

"Oh, who could forget? At least five first years were diagnosed with narcolepsy after taking his class," Justin joked. They sat together on one of her small couches, almost touching as she laughed. He followed up the joke with a deadpan, "As if civil procedure wasn't boring enough."

"I had to take him for evidence," she said, exaggerating a grimace.

"Oh, you poor thing. No wonder you developed that horrible addiction to coffee."

Grinning, Catherine reached for her mug sitting nearby on the coffee table and noticed it was empty. "Luckily for you, I've developed a taste for tea. Would you like another cup?"

Justin shook his head. "No, thanks. At this rate, I may never get to sleep tonight. Luckily, jury selection was postponed until Monday, so I don't have to be in first thing."

"Why did you come to the DA's office?" she asked. "Last I heard, you were making quite a name for yourself in the personal injury world."

Sitting back easily among the cushions of her couch, Justin told her frankly, "Trial experience. It's tough to come by with civil cases, so I figured I'd do a stint with you rank and file suits in the criminal courts. You know - get a few years under my belt before I hang my own shingle."

Pursing her lips in mirth, Catherine nodded in understanding. She had never been driven to be a solo practitioner like some of her other law school colleagues. But then, she had a guaranteed job in her father's law prestigious firm right after graduation. Not that very many Columbia graduates had to look hard for good work, but finding a good fit was not always easy.

"The DA's office is tough work," she warned. "Long hours and very little thanks."

"Then why do you do it?" he asked. "You aren't even doing legal work. They have you heading investigations, right?"

"I feel like I'm where I need to be," Catherine said quietly. "When I first started, I needed to prove myself. Not just for them, but for me as well."

"And now?"

"Now... " she sighed. "Now, I really like the feeling of being needed. By someone, at least."

This time, Justin seemed to pause as he observed his friend.

"You seeing anyone, Cathy?"

She looked away, not sure how to answer the question. But he knew her too well.

"Oh, that's definitely the Cathy Chandler way of affirming, 'It's complicated.'" Leaning backward, he rested his head against his arm and said casually, "Tell me about him."

Unable to stop a grin, Catherine admitted, "It is complicated."

"Preaching to the choir, here. What's he like?"

For a long moment, Catherine remained silent. She wondered how much she should answer. Finally, she decided that Justin, as ethical as she knew him to be, could be trusted with a piece of the truth.

"He's… wonderful. He is the most kind, considerate, loving person I have ever known."

"But its… complicated?" Justin prompted.

Catherine nodded.

"Is he bad in bed?"

Laughing despite herself, she shook her head. Their one foray into the realm of physical pleasure was enough for her to answer that question in the negative, although the way her smile froze and slowly faded away seemed to catch her friend's attention.

"Hmm," Justin pondered. "Well, I doubt he's married. The Cathy Chandler who I know aced professional responsibility would never go fishing in someone else's pond. So what is it?"

Their conversation had gotten away from her and Catherine quickly tried to shut it down again. "I can't really talk about it."

"Oh, please tell me, Cathy. Wait - is he a criminal? Did you meet him through the office?"

Was Vincent a criminal? Technically, in some ways, she could term him that way, although every criminal action he had ever taken could easily be deemed self defense (or defense of her) in a court of law. Rather, Vincent's very existence defied the norms of their society. He risked capture or scientific inquiry or even death if he was ever found out.

Watching her closely, Justin suddenly moved, reaching out to the coffee table to grab her clutch from where she had haphazardly dropped it. Handing it to her, he said, "Give me five dollars."

The strange request brought her up short. "What?" she demanded with amusement.

"Just give me five dollars, Cathy. Or whatever you have. A twenty? I'll take that."

Snatching the bill from her hand, Justin pocketed the cash before turning back to her.

"There. Now I'm on retainer, and you and I can now enjoy attorney-client privilege. So tell me about this maybe-criminal boyfriend of yours. As you know, I'm bound by law not to reveal anything you say unless I suspect you intend to commit a violent crime."

"Justin…"

She was reminded of the therapist she had visited, how he had assured her of professional privacy. Even then, Catherine had found herself unable to unburden herself to a stranger, not when the revealing such information could potentially end in disaster. No, this secret was the most important in her life, and it carried the weight of not only Vincent's life but everyone else in his world.

"You aren't, are you?" Justin pressed, almost serious.

"I'm not what?"

"Planning to commit a violent crime."

Catherine let out a laugh. "Maybe against you," she teased.

"But seriously - what's the problem with this guy? I mean, I assume it is a guy…" he said, tapering off.

Her eyes flashing, she confirmed, "Yes."

Justin nodded once. He knew her well enough to already anticipate the answer, but asking it was an important step in their conversation.

"Then start at the hard part," he suggested. "What's the biggest problem you face at the moment? Money?"

She shook her head.

"Love?"

Even more emphatically, she indicated a negative.

"Then… sex? Intimacy?"

Her silence answered him, and Justin slowly took in a deep breath.

"Oh dear," he murmured. "You or him?"

Again, she said nothing.

"Him then," her friend concluded. "Has he seen anyone? There are specialists these days..."

"It isn't like that," Catherine said, growing uncomfortable.

"So it isn't a 'can't' so much as a 'won't," Justin concluded swiftly. "I take it this guy doesn't have a lot of… experience?"

Catherine looked away, ready to stand up from the couch and abruptly call it an evening.

"Cathy," he said quickly, attempting to keep her from running away. "As long as its worth it. As long as he is worth it."

She turned to lock eyes with her friend, her meaning clear as she answered. "He is. He really is."

Justin paused before standing up, giving her a knowing smile. She stood up as well and followed him to the door. "It was really good to see you again, Cathy," he said, giving her a warm goodbye hug. "I hope we can do this again soon?"

Catherine relaxed into his firm but gentle embrace before saying, "I'd like that."

"My schedule next week is pretty busy," he warned, "but I'll call you."

"Goodnight, Justin."

She closed the door behind him and out of habit locked and deadbolted her door. As she did so, she stopped for a moment, allowing herself to relive his departing hug. The warmth of him, both physically and in concern for her welfare, made her feel good inside. The evening with Justin had reminded her that she was not isolated, no matter how lonely she sometimes felt in 'her' world above. There were people who still cared about her despite the secrets she kept.

Something suddenly caught her attention, although Catherine could not have explained what it was. A sound, perhaps? Or maybe it was a feeling that was not her own…

Her eyes darted to the balcony door, and in a flash she had crossed her apartment and moved onto the terrace.

She saw him just as he was about to depart from her balcony climb the extra story to the roof. Vincent stopped suddenly, as though he had been caught in the midst of a burglary, and Catherine recognized a stray sense of guilt which did not originate in her.

"Vincent!" she said in surprise. "I didn't know you were here."

Taking his hand, she pulled him back down onto the balcony, taking care as she did so not to acknowledge his stunned expression. Rather, she gave him time to find the words to explain himself.

"I… I did not wish to interrupt you, Catherine," he said finally, his voice shaky with emotion.

"You didn't interrupt anything. Justin just left," she told him brightly.

He did not meet her gaze, and she recognized the look of misery in his face.

"You had a good time tonight," Vincent stated.

"I did," Catherine agreed, already sensing the source of his obvious unhappiness. "Justin and I were able to do some catching up. I haven't seen him in years."

"When you mentioned meeting a friend, I did not realize…"

He trailed off, clearly uncomfortable with his own feelings in this matter. But Catherine could sense his uneasiness even without the bond.

"That Justin was a 'him'?" she suggested.

"Yes."

"Vincent, you have no reason to be jealous. It isn't like that between us. Justin is just a friend. He can never be otherwise."

Despite the assurance, he still could not look at her, and she sensed Vincent's feelings consumed him and left him choking on guilt over his own feelings, just as he had when Michael had impetuously kissed her. But this time must be worse, considering what he had suggested to her not so long ago, about finding someone to meet her unmet needs.

While Catherine had initially resolved to sooth away Vincent's jealousy, she momentarily paused and reconsidered that decision. She thought for several long seconds, weighing his misery and also her own. And after considering the state between them for a time, Catherine closed her mouth and swallowed the explanation which would have put his insecurities to rest.

No, perhaps he needed to face the prospect of losing her, she decided.

"Sit with me?" Catherine beckoned to him instead.

Shaking his head, Vincent said wistfully, "I should go…"

"Just for little while ?" she begged. "We haven't spent much time together recently."

Her plea was enough to break his resolve, and for a full hour Vincent stayed with her on the balcony, listening as she described the ballet she had attended that evening. She also told him about dinner, the sushi restaurant she had been wanting to try but had not had time to visit. While she largely left Justin out of her recounting of the evening, she could feel Vincent's tension whenever some detail hit too close to his attendance.

"Will you see him again?" he asked finally.

Feigning ignorance of his jealousy, Catherine stated nonchalantly, "Oh, I'm sure I will. We like so many of the same things. The ballet. The opera. He is more of a fan of Broadway than I have ever been, but even when it comes to musicals, his taste is impeccable."

Her answer earned a deep sigh from Vincent, and a wave of shame flashed through her as she knew he felt as though she were describing his competition. What Vincent did not know, could not likely even imagine, was how utterly wrong he was.

TBC