Communication

by ChiefPam

a/n: Spoilers for 2nd season up to ep 2x02 "Kidnapped" and previews for 2x03. Deviates from canon after the ending of Kidnapped. None of the events from 2x03 "Liar,Liar" have happened yet.

I look across the table at Vincent, a thousand thoughts swirling around in my head. He looks so different, with the shorter hair, and there's something changed about his posture, too. I miss his ready smile; he tries so hard to be expressionless. Probably 'makes him a better soldier'. He's so guarded, he tries to keep himself distant. I don't like that, but I have seen moments where his real emotions break through – I think. He certainly wasn't distant in bed. Trouble is, he reverted immediately afterwards. Whoever is pulling his strings has trained him well.

He looks up from his plate and catches me staring. "What?"

"Nothing," I say as casually as I can manage. "It's just … you look so different. You act different, too. Which reminds me – that first night, at my apartment? Thanks for letting me hug you."

He drops his eyes. "It wasn't any big deal."

"I realized later, it must have been uncomfortable for you. You know, this woman you'd barely even met, sobbing on your chest. I just want you to know that I appreciate that you did that for me."

Vincent shifts in his chair. "I didn't know what to do."

"You stayed. You held onto me." I smile a little, remembering the very first rooftop conversation we had, so long ago. "You didn't run."

"You didn't either," he replies, looking up at me. "That fight at the club… I killed that guy right in front of you, but it didn't change what you thought of me. I could tell. That's why I left a note, so if you didn't want to talk to me… But it didn't change anything."

"The only thing shocking about that fight was that the other guy had, shall we say, enhancements. I'm a cop, you know; I've seen death and I know what cold-blooded killers – and monsters – look like. You're not either of those."

He looks down at the table, playing with his fork, pushing the remnants of his dinner around the plate. "So that's why you were okay with the idea that I'd killed Zhao?"

I shrug. "It was a little different, granted, but given what he'd done…"

"A little revenge is understandable?" He's still not meeting my eyes.

"Sometimes you can't get justice in a courtroom." Something's not quite right here. What does he mean, I'm okay with the *idea* that he killed Zhao? Does he not want to admit to it in public? Nobody's listening. I already know that he did it, unless Tess was right about that pack of wild dogs, or if… if Vincent's not the only person out there who could maul someone to death. And I just found out that he's not.

This is going to take some thought. I'm going to have to go back over the case file. For instance, the time of death, see if that meshes with when I know he was in my apartment.

Next question – is he dropping hints on purpose?

He looks up to meet my eyes. "No questions?"

"I've already figured out that you don't usually answer direct questions."

"Very good, detective." He smiles, just a little, still looking very intense. "So, don't ask direct questions."

Was that a faint emphasis on the word 'direct'? "I'll remember that. Want any dessert?"

Conversation gets lighter for a while, both of us avoiding serious topics. I wasn't sure what we'd have to discuss, since he can't talk about his job, and I know more about his history than he does, but it works. I don't manage to draw him out much, but as the night goes by he smiles more easily and often.

"So what made you decide to be a cop?"

"Oh, that. Well, when I was nineteen, my mom got shot, and I was almost killed, too."

He frowns. "Crossfire?"

"No, they killed her, I ran, then they came after me, too. But then I was saved by some mysterious sort of beast." I smile up at him. "Nobody could figure it out and they assumed it was my head injury talking."

A corner of his mouth curls upward. "A beast, huh?"

"Yeah." I smile, thinking back. "Took me another nine years to understand it, which is when I discovered Dr. Vincent Keller, who was technically dead, hiding out in a warehouse with his best friend." Awkward topic, I'll move on. "Anyway, after nearly being a victim that night, I never wanted to be vulnerable again, so I started learning self-defense, how to shoot, and changed majors from pre-law to criminal justice."

"Seems to suit you – you're good."

I like that look of honest admiration. Considering he's all wrapped up in the super-soldier identity, I guess that's about the highest compliment he can give me. "You are, too. Better than before."

That pleases him. "Really?"

"Yeah, I think so. And I don't know what your mission is, but I think I'm glad that you have one. The sense of purpose looks good on you. You used to be so insecure sometimes, which was totally understandable and endearing, but this… this self-confidence is very attractive." I grin at him and add, "It's also sexy as hell."

He smiles, a lazy dangerous sexy smile that has me feeling weak in the knees. "So, then, in some ways you like me better than him?"

What? "Him? Him who?"

His smile disappears. "Your old boyfriend. The guy that I'm not."

He's jealous? Of himself? He's not quite so self-confident in some areas, I guess. My heart melts a little. "Vincent, some things have changed, yeah. They don't make you a different person, though. The guy I fell in love with is sitting right here in front of me."

"Oh, Catherine." He gives me that intense look again. If we were somewhere private, I think we'd be halfway naked by now, but since we're in public, we'll have to behave ourselves. I guess on his side it's not really love, not yet, and that's just a tiny bit painful. He's attracted to me, intrigued by me… no more. There's a "pull", he said, and he wants to spend time with me. That will do for now, because I really do believe we'll get back to where we were before – or better. I just need to be patient.

His memories might still come back – and I hope that they do, because it feels lonely to be the only one remembering our significant moments – but the main thing is, he's here, and he wants to be with me.

Before I know it, it's well past midnight, and the waiter's cleared all the plates away, leaving us only with coffee that's gone cold. "I guess I should take you home," Vincent says as I smother another yawn.

"I guess, but this has been great. You're fun to talk to. And yeah, it's nice to be in a restaurant with you, for a change."

"I figured it was about time I bought you dinner, considering." He smiles. "You're fun to talk to, too. But next time, I want to pick a better restaurant."

"Next time?" I like the sound of that.

"Or you could pick." He looks around the all-night diner. "Not that this hasn't been charming."

"I don't really care," I shrug. "It's not the location that makes it special."

"Considering you're perfectly happy with picnics on your roof, I believe you." He insists on paying the tab. That's another issue we'll have to face; who pays for the dates if we're not sponging off JT anymore? What a nice problem to have.

As we leave the diner, I return to a bigger problem. "You know, picking a restaurant is probably going to be the least of our concerns - if we're going to keep this relationship secret from everyone we know."

He nods. "And you've got the hard part. I don't really need to account for my time to anyone, but you've got your friends."

Nice of him to acknowledge that. "Yeah. One of whom – Gabe – is theoretically also my boss. He says he wants to protect you, but he also thinks you might be a contract killer or something, and he doesn't want you running around loose. Let alone going on dates with me."

"How does he know about me?"

"Hmm, that's complicated. Short version – he was a Muirfield project, and I worked with him – at least until he tried to use me as bait so he could kill my boyfriend."

He arches an eyebrow, and I nod. "Actually, I guess in a sense he did kill my old boyfriend. Lucky for me I have a new boyfriend now." I flash him a quick smile. "Still, it's going to be a long time until I trust him again."

"So, wait, Muirfield project?"

"Past-tense. He was kind of like you, before. Don't ask me how it worked, but these days he's merely human."

"It's possible to reverse this?"

I can practically see the wheels turning in his head and I glare at him. "Oh, no, don't even think about it. I like you just the way you are."

He smiles. "Oh, you do, do you?"

"Yes, I do."

"So how are we going to play this?"

"Right. I think you need to make the first move. Come see me, bring flowers or something. They might still be watching my building. Anyway, after you leave I can go to Gabe and say you dropped word of something that we should investigate. He says, how are you going to do that without Vincent knowing? I say, well, I can tag along by going undercover as your girlfriend." I flash a smile at him, teasing. "Even though I really am your girlfriend."

"But he won't know that part."

"Right. He'll probably think it's a stupid plan, but I can deal with that. Then I'll have an excuse to meet up with you, and you can show up on my roof or my fire escape."

"Not just the roof but the fire escape, too?" He grins. "I'm already starting to love your building."

"The fire escape was our place, back when we couldn't go out." Back before he felt comfortable enough to let himself in. Patience, Cat.

"Okay, then. So we can meet without them suspecting too much - and then we can really investigate. Listen, there are some things about my job that I can't say – literally, cannot say them."

"Programming?" That throws a slightly different light on things. Maybe he was trying to drop hints, to get around the blocks.

"Conditioning. Something like that. But I could still use your help - I'll tell you what I can. And you will work some things out all on your own. So that can keep Gabe happy."

"We'll just have to figure it out as we go, I guess." About a block away from my apartment, I pull him to a stop. "You probably shouldn't get too close to the building yet; just in case they're watching."

He stares down at me so seriously. That look is so intent - to anyone else, it would seem threatening, but all I feel is a little breathless and weak at the knees. Even after he snapped the other night - even after he hurt me - I can't feel scared. Not of him. I've spent too much time with him, in too many intense situations. He doesn't remember me, not yet, but he still responds to me in some of the old familiar ways. He dips his head towards me, and I raise my face for his kiss. He keeps it brief, though, and is soon backing away slightly. "Good night, Catherine."

"Good night, Vincent."

"I'll keep watch until you're safe in your apartment, okay?"

"Thanks. See you soon?"

"Yeah, I hope so."

I have to go, I know that, but first I snatch one more quick kiss. Then I turn and walk away. I'm going to need my sleep if I'm going to help Vincent accomplish… whatever his goals are. I wish I knew that. I'm choosing to trust him; I just hope I don't end up regretting it.

...to be continued…

follow me on twitter: -at-ChiefPam