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You want more – review! It is that simple, ya'll.
I have been preoccupied writing my other story "Late Night Visit" Cat's POV which is almost complete. Just want to fine tune the sexy parts. Can't rush these things
Hope you enjoy it. Next chapter is Vincent coming home and realizing Cat has been there. Thanks for the reviews. Keep 'em comin', Birgitta
I own nothing. All rights to story, character etc belongs to CW
3. Just a simple kiss.
"What?"
JT cracks the door and greets me in his normal pleasant way. He has never approved of me knowing about Vincent, spending time with Vincent, or getting closer to Vincent. Part of me wonders how much it truly has to do with safety and how much of it is really based on jealously. It's been just the two of them for so long… and then I showed up. I guess JT feels a bit left out, pushed to the side, and abandoned. He is like a dumped ex-girlfriend who hasn't gotten over Vincent yet.
I choke the giggle bubbling 'cause I don't think JT would share my amusement and besides, I'm here for a reason. "You know what I want, JT. Is Vincent here?"
"No!"
I sigh. JT doesn't disappoint. He is forever accommodating and helpful. Normally, I have more patience with his snappy nature but not today. I really need to see Vincent or at least deliver my letter.
"Look," I say, hoping to reach JT somehow. I have to for things have been spinning in my head for days, ever since the kiss, and I have to get it cleared before I go insane. "Vincent and I have a deal. It can't go more than a week without us talking."
I hold for JT's reaction but he is a stone wall. There is nothing but his blank bored stare.
'Nice', I grumble on the inside and the irritation increases.
JT such be wise to watch it. Sure, I like him, mostly because of what he has done for Vincent all these years. But still. Vincent is not the only one with a temper. I may not turn into a Beast but this Beauty can become a real Bitch when pushed too far.
"Something… happened… between us and… I just need to talk to him about it," I reveal, unsure how much JT knows.
"He's not here," JT settles again, not revealing anything, not showing any interest to find out what this thing was.
I nod and shift, anxious to get in. For a brief moment, I contemplate shoving JT out of the way. I could easily take him. He came at me once with a bat and I had him on his back faster than he could articulate photosynthesis.
"Look," I say again, not that I have any hope of him seeing anything my way. Like I've previously pointed out, JT is not exactly my number one fan. "You don't have to deliver a message or hand him a note. I've already written a letter. I just need to put it on his bed."
"No!"
Anger boiling.
'Deep and slow breaths, Catherine… relax… stay calm…'
I exhale and change tactics, using my detective training. "Can I give you some advice, JT?"
"No!"
'Big surprise,' I smirk internally.
"I'm going to give you some anyway. You're a great friend to Vincent. Actually, you are more than that. You are a confidant, provider, and protector. If it hadn't been for you, he'd probably be dead," I butter and I mean every word. I am eternally grateful to JT for all that he has done for Vincent. "But… eventually you are going to have to get your own life and separate yourself from Vincent."
JT says nothing yet I can see a shift in his eyes. I have penetrated the wall. He is responding. My words are getting to him, whether he likes it or not.
I continue. "It's Friday night. What are your plans for tonight?" I know perfectly well the answer, yet I ask. He glares back, confirming without saying anything. "That's what I thought," I gloat, acting slightly childish. "You're going to sit at home and wait for Vincent. Then, the two of you will watch TV or play chess." More angry stares aimed at me. He even folds his arms across his chest as if his act will intimidate me and shut me up. "Why don't you go out?" I suggest cheerily. "Clean yourself up, shave, and dress in something nice. Go to a club… talk to some girls… have sex."
He blinks, shocked, and I smirk. This is not a conversation he was expecting. Next time, he'd better think twice before messing with a cop. JT may be a genius when it comes to chemistry but he is no match for a cunning and determined woman on a mission. I will see Vincent or at least deliver my letter. JT is a fool to believe himself able to stop me. When I want something… I go after it… full out… and I usually get it!
Easily, I finish him off. "How long has it been? As long as Vincent? Which makes it, what? 10 years… more? WOW! I would have exploded by now. How have you been able to go without for that long? You must be all bott…"
JT swings the door open and steps out of the way. "Stop! Enough!" He nearly yells, holding up his hands in protest. His eyes are wide with what could account for panic or madness. "Go. Drop off your letter. Just… no more."
I smile, widely and innocently, as I pass him. "That's all it takes?! Now, I know!"
JT mumbles something behind me as he closes the door but my focus has already shifted. I steer my feet up the stairs and to Vincent's loft. The area lays empty. Vincent is gone so JT wasn't lying to me. I'm glad in a way. Vincent is avoiding me, there is no doubt of that, but at least he isn't shunning me when I drop by for a visit. If he had been home, he would have met me at the door… wouldn't he?
So, we kissed. He was about to get found out. I had to calm the Beast. Why is he upset? Why won't he see me? It was just a kiss… nothing more… just a simple kiss… right?
I look down at one of his pillows. It's covered by a plain white cotton case. I imagine his head on it at night. Does he sleep on his stomach, back, or side? Has he been thinking of me and of that kiss… at night… while grasping this pillow… while laying undress in his bed?
I exhale slowly and there is a tremble, I notice. Looking down at the bed, I know that I can't resist. After a quick glance over my shoulder, making sure JT isn't watching, I pick up the pillow and bring it to my nose. His scent fills my nostrils and I close my eyes, imagining him here.
The truth is; the simple kiss wasn't so simple. At least, it wasn't for me. I had acted impulsively, desperate to protect him and terrified of losing him, and now it is too late to turn back. He is a part of me; in my head, my flesh, and my heart. These last days have been torture. I haven't slept well, had any appetite, been able to focus, or wanted to socialize. I've had these dreams, during the day and night, and they always star Vincent. Not knowing what is going on in his head is driving me crazy.
I put the pillow back down again. Inhaling his scent is only making it worse. I'm so confused. There are these feelings, no doubt of that, but I am not normally impulsive. I think everything out and come up with the best solution. Being with Vincent is not logical. It makes no sense. Yet, it feels so right. He feels so right. When his lips were on mine… I've never wanted anything or anyone more. Despite the danger, the men on the ground, Tess coming up behind us, and the Beast, everything else faded and it was just Vincent. I could have gone on forever. I could have gone further. I wanted to go further. I still do.
Shaking my head, my thoughts confounding me, I lay down on Vincent's bed. It is so unwise. If I was levelheaded, if I was my normal rational self, I would go and let Vincent make the next move. The letter puts it plainly. The letter explains how I feel, what I want, and what I am hoping for. Perhaps, that's just it. I am afraid to drop off the letter because it is definite and it will leave me exposed. I don't like being vulnerable. What if he rejects me? After all, I kissed him. Did he even respond?
I think back and panic rises as I realize that he never did. He went limp in my arms, he froze, and he never returned my kiss. He never wrapped his arms around me or held me closer. When I pulled away, he just stared at me, like he couldn't believe that I had kissed him. What did I read in his eyes; shock… disbelief… disapproval? He hesitated when I told him to go but he didn't say anything. Why didn't he say anything? And, now he won't see me, he won't answer the phone, he runs and hides when I approach…
My head is spinning. I shouldn't be in his bed. It is making it worse. It is going to make tonight worse, when I am alone, in my bed, and the fantasies start creating needs that won't be satisfied.
"What the hell," I curse frustrated. "It shouldn't be this complicated!"
"You're still here?!"
My eyes snap open and I shoot out of Vincent's bed. I had totally forgotten about JT.
"What were you doing?"
Not able to come up with a believable lie, I don't think JT would buy some story about low blood sugar, I decide to ignore his question. Gathering guts, I place the letter on the pillow and speed off before I change my mind. My legs feel oddly shaky and jelly-like as I take each step down the staircase. As I travel thru the door and thru the warehouse, my heart pounds with the pace of my rushing feet. I am excited, terrified, relieved, and terrified. What if I lose him because of the letter? Scare him off so I will never see him again? How do I go on without him? I've become so dependent on him. My whole life has adjusted itself around him.
Without glancing back, if I do I might change my mind and return in to retrieve the letter, I start up the car and rev off. Not wanting to go home, I drive to the office. Tess is gone but I just can't go home. I have to keep my mind preoccupied until he seeks me out with a reply. There are several unsolved cases to help me kill a few hours and by the time I get back in my car, it is past 11. Yawning, I happily note that I am exhausted. Hopefully, sleep will come easily and my night will be dream free. I just can't handle one more night of…
Out of nowhere, a grocery cart appears in front of my car and I slam on the brake. It is still not quick enough. The impact, metal against metal, causes the cart and its pusher to fall to the asphalt. Sure that I have killed the elderly lady, I rush out of the car with my cell phone ready to dial 911. Leaning over, I inspect her fast and see no blood.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"This is Detective Catherine Chandler, NYPD, precinct…"
That's all I get to say before something is slammed over my head and everything goes blurry. As the world begins to spin, from the blow and from the fingers curled around my neck, I think of Vincent and of how the Beast is going to tear my assailant to shreds.
'You're dead, whoever you are,' I think. 'Whoever you are, you're dead!'
That's how sure I am that my Beast will come. He always does. He never fails me. He can't.
