"Night Of Masks" - Part 2
by Debbie Nockels
COPYRIGHT: February 1993 (slightly revised October 2002)
RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters are mine (I wish!). They belong to Ron Koslow, who created them, and I'm not sure who else at this point in time.
SUMMARY: Placed in the AU created in my novel Though They Sink Through The Sea." Catherine is alive and living Below with Vincent, but continues to work in the D.A.'s office.
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"This is Joe's apartment," Catherine said. From behind the closed doors came a confusion of noise - faint music jumbled with the indistinct babble of voices talking and laughing. She rang the doorbell. It was opened almost instantly. Her jaw dropped at the apparition confronting them from the other side.
"Radcliffe! Glad you could make it. Come in, come in!" Joe pulled the door wider, ushering them in an expansive gesture. "Hey, Vincent, good to see you again, fella." He shut the door and turned,
"Joe?" Catherine finally found her voice. She gave a gasp of delighted laughter. "Why didn't you tell me? You look fantastic!"
"Hey, a guy's gotta have some secrets." Joe grinned at them. "So, whadda you think?"
Joe too had obviously called upon the services of his theatrical cousin. However, unlike the prosthetic appliances Catherine was wearing, Joe achieved his feline look primarily through extensive makeup - with the exception of his ears which were now fuzzy and sharply pointed, with long tufts at their tips. His dark hair waved thickly around his head, somehow achieving the effect of a mane despite its short length.
"You look like you stepped out of a production of Cats," Catherine said now. She glanced at Vincent. "You've seen the cast pictures in the programme; don't you agree?"
"I certainly do."
Joe winked at them. "Hey, if you like this just wait til you get a load of Bennett. She'll knock your socks off." He raised his voice in a shout. "Hey, Bennett! They're here!"
A slender woman emerged from the kitchen, carring two glasses. Catherine caught her breath. She'd always considered Diana Bennett an attractive woman, but tonight - clad in a long, dark sapphire-blue gown, its low neckline revealing a tantalizing swell of breast before hugging her figure like a second skin down to the hips, where it flared gently out - with her glorius hair newly washed and brushed into a shimmering auburn aureole about her face and shoulders - the only word was -
"Breathtaking," Catherine breathed as Diana stopped in front of them. "Diana, you're absolutely stunning." Beside her, Vincent was silent.
Diana handed them each a glass of champagne. "Thanks," she said, smoothing her dress with an awkward gesture. "You don't think it's too much?"
"No," Catherine, Joe and Vincent exclaimed simultaneously. Diana looked at them in turn. Her lips moved in a faint smile. "Okay," was all she said, but she visibly relaxed.
She, like Catherine, wore prosthetic appliances giving her a feline appearance, but hers were less extensive, mainly covering the middle part of her face and with only a suggestion of a cleft in the upper lip. Glossy black stripes slanted through short coppery fuzz on her face, both colors lengthening at the sides and ending in long tufts at the hairline. The tiger motif was repeated on her neck and chest, though with makeup alone. On her bare arms, however, the fur reappeared; alternating stripes of black and russet-gold meeting in the middle to form a strip of longer fur, perhaps an inch in width, extending in an unbroken line from shoulder to wrist, spreading out over the back of the hand to cover each long-nailed finger. She wore no fangs.
Diana examined her hands critically. "I sure hope these press-on things last the night," she muttered.
"Me too," agreed Catherine, casting a doubtful look at her own pointed claws. "Do you have any spares with you? 'Cause I brought some just in case."
Joe turned to Vincent, rolling his eyes, as the two women went into a cosmetic comparison huddle. "Geeze, I can't handle that woman-type talk. C'mon, Vincent, there's somebody here I want you to meet." He looked over Vincent's shoulder. "Oops. Too late."
Vincent turned as a short, rather stout young woman flounced to a stop in front of them. A conventional half-mask, made of black satin and vaguely catlike in apperance, covered her upper face; a set of plastic whiskers, obviously drugstore quality, were glued on either side of her mouth; her plentiful hair had been brushed and sprayed into a wild, thick black mane. Her eyes were trained on Catherine's back.
"So, girlfriend," the woman said with a toss of her head. "You got no time anymore for old friends?"
Catherine turned around. "Edie!" She threw her arms around her friend. "It's so good to see you!" The two women hugged. Edie looked at Catherine's face and shook her head.
"Joe told me the party had a cat theme," she complained, "but I didn't know everyone was going to get all pro about it. Now don't tell me the same person did all four of you" - her glance slid over Vincent - " 'cause I won't believe it. Not unless he started at five o'clock this morning."
"You're right." Joe urged them all away from the door, guiding them toward a less crowded corner of the living room. "My cousin Natalie made up Vincent and Catherine, but one of her friends did Diana and me."
"So this is Vincent." Edie turned to face him, her black eyes glittering through the eyeholes of the mask.
"I'm sorry." Catherine took Vincent's arm. "Edie, this is my husband, Vincent. Vincent, this is Edie; you've heard me talk about her a million times."
"Which is considerably more than I ever heard about you," Edie commented with a sniff, giving Vincent her hand. "I'm glad to finally meet the mystery man." She glanched mischievously at Catherine. "I've never known anyone who talked less about herself than Cathy here."
"Catherine is a very private person," said Vincent gravely. He pressed Edie's hand.
"You got that right," Edie snorted. Her eyes were fixed on his face, and Vincent thought he saw a puzzled quality creep into her gaze. He dropped her hand and took a half-step backwards, making an involuntary gesture of reaching to draw a hood over his head, before he remembered he wasn't wearing his customary cloak. Although the lighting in the room was quite dim, true to Joe's promise to Catherine, Vincent was still uneasy about being detected for what he was.
Apparently not noticing anything amiss, Edie said archly, "I want to know everything! Like, how did you two meet?"
Vincent looked at Catherine. "We met in the Park one night," she said truthfully, if incompletely. A faint snort of stifled laughter reached Vincent's ears from Joe, standing beside him.
"Oh, during one of your evening runs, hmm?"
Catherine smiled, not denying it. Edie shook her head. "Geeze, girl, don't you know you take your life in your hands every time you do that? Especially now, with this Sniper maniac around." She shook her head again, shivering dramatically.
"Edie." Catherine took her friend's hand. "Don't worry about me. I'm careful, really I am. Besides," and she darted a laughing look at vincent, "lately I've been too busy with my family to do much running anyway."
Edie's mock frown softened into a smile. "I'll bet. How is the baby?"
"Not a baby anymore," Catherine said ruefully. "Jacob's almost three now."
"Yeah, they grow up fast, don't they? My brother's oldest girl is in high school already." Edie sighed. "I can hardly believe it. I keep remembering all those times I babysat her, before they moved away. She was such a cute little thing, all eyes, with the biggest smile you ever saw. Now I look at her picture and see a young lady. Before I know it she'll be all grown up."
Melancholy played over her features, the she flashed a grin at them. "She's still cute, though!" They all laughed. "Cathy, let's see a picture of Jacob. And don't tell me you didn't bring any, 'cause I won't believe you."
"Wellll. . . ." For a moment Catherine feigned embarrassment, then she grinned. "Since you asked, I do happen to have just a couple with me." She dipped into the small velvet bag swinging from her arm and drew out a small album that must have completely the interior.
Edie laughed out loud. Diana crowded in close and Vincent wasn't at all surprised to see Joe do the same. Catherine frowned, squinting at the album. "It's too dark in here to see them."
"Let's go in the kitchen; it's brighter in there," suggested Joe. Catherine looked inquiringly at Vincent. He shook his head. "I'll wait here," he told her. Catherine nodded her agreement.
Left alone, Vincent finally had time to take a look at the rest of Joe's guests. Not surprisingly, the overwhelming majority were costumed in some fashion as cats. The surprise, to Vincent, lay in the astounding variety of the costumes. In one corner a sleek black panther in skin-tight leotard complete with tail stood talking to a short, cuddly Tigger straight from the pages of A.A. Milne's delightful books.
Just then two men dressed in matching leopard-spotted costumes, also with tails, strolled nearby. As they passed they glanced his way, then stopped and walked over to peer into his face.
"Fantastic makeup!" one said admiringly.
"Fantastic look!" his companion exclaimed. A pair of roguish blck eyes gleamed at Vincent through his spotted mask, sweeping him from head to toe. "So magnficently barbaric! We saw you arrive, you know, and I said to Robert here, 'I simply must find out where he got that costume! It's just too, too sexy and quite utterly devastating! Now do tell me where you bought it."
Vincent was rather dazed by the verbal barrage. "I'm afraid I don't know," he admitted. "Catherine picked it out."
Again that bright gaze slid over him. "You should let her pick out all your clothes," the young man murmured. "Is Catherine your girlfriend?"
"My wife." Even after more than two years, Vincent still experienced a thrill of wonder when saying the words. "My name is Vincent."
The loquacious leopard let out a tiny shriek and clapped one hand to his cheek. "Where are my manners?" he exclaimed, extending his other hand to Vincent in a gracious manner. "Very pleased to meet you. I'm Sasha and my friend here is Robert. Do you work with Joe Maxwell, Vincent?"
"Catherine does." Vincent shook his hand.
Robert, until then a silent onlooker, cocked his head. "Catherine," he said in a speculative tone. "That wouldn't be Catherine Chandler, would it?"
When Vincent nodded he broke out into a wide smile beneath his half-mask. "Well! I'm very glad to meet you, Vincent. Any husband of Cathy's is a friend of mine." He winked and took Vincent's hand in a brief shake.
"You know Catherine," Vincent observed unnecessarily. "Do you also work in the District Attorney's office?"
Robert nodded. "Only as a clerk right now. But I've been studying law for two years. When you can only take night classes, it takes longer but I'll get there."
Impressed by Robert's aura of quiet competence, Vincent had no doubts about that, and said so. "Thanks," Robert laughed, then took his friend's arm. "Come on, Sasha. You said you needed a refill."
Sasha sighed, looking at his empty glass. "Too true." He gazed mournfully at Vincent. "Now don't go away, magnificent one. We'll be back in three shakes of a leopard's tail!" He caught up the end of his long tail and waved it playfully before stolling off with Robert.
Vincent watched them go, smiling to himself.
"Ohh, look!" Edie burst into laughter. "Was there anything left in the bowl, Cathy?"
Standing in bright kitchen light, Catherine surveyed the photograph with a rueful smile. "Not very much, no. It took me forever to get all that out of his hair."
"I believe you," put in Joe. "Just be grateful it was only oatmeal, Cathy. I remember once when one of my sisters dumped bowl of spaghetti over her head and then sort of mashed it in. What a mess! I think my mom used all our hot water trying to wash the stuff out."
"Who's this?" Edie asked, flipping through the album.
Catherine looked. "That's Vincent's father. Jacob adores him."
"What's he doing, reading to him? When was this taken?" asked Edie.
"About a year ago; why?"
"You mean your two-year-old would actually sit still long enough to be read to?" Edie's voice was disbelieving.
"Jacob loves to be read to; he always has. This is one of my favorite pictures of the two of them." Catherine didn't add that the reason for this was because the sight of Father, peering studiously through his spectacles at a volume of Dr. Seuss never failed to make her chuckle.
Edie shook her head. "I don't know why I'm surprised. I should have known that any child of yours would be exceptional."
"There's nothing unusual in that," said Catherine, surprised. "Most children like to have stories read to them. Of course, at that age the story can't be too long, and bright illustrations help keep their attention."
Edie shrugged. "If you say so."
"Catherine's right," Diana chimed in. "You said you used to babysit your niece. Didn't you ever read to her? Or did they move away before she was old enough?"
There was a moment of silence, during which the doorbell was heard to ring. Joe left to answer it, then Edie said, "Clarissa was about two when they moved, but to answer your question, no, I never read to her. At that time I had my own problems with reading. Turned out that I'm dyslexic, but we didn't know that then. I was eighteen before I read a book just for pleasure."
Another silence; then, "What book was it?" Catherine asked.
A sheepish grin broke out over Edie's face. "Mary Poppins. I didn't understand some of it - it was too British - but I liked it anyway."
"Oh, I loved those books!" exclaimed Catherine. "I read all five of them, or was it six? They were great!"
"Who is this, Cathy?" Diana defused the slight awkwardness remaining by indicating another photograph.
Catherine smiled. "That's my friend Jenny Aronson. It seems strange you two have never met."
"So that's Jenny." Diana studied the laughing face in the picture. At that moment Joe returned.
"Hey, look who finally showed up!" He stood aside and a lanky woman with a shock of long dark hair swept into the room. Even though her face was hidden behind a full lion mask, there was no mistaking her identity.
"Hey, Rita! Good to see you," Catherine smiled. "Nice costume."
"Thanks, but my God, look at you!" Rita Escobar came closer. "What a makeup job!" She looked over at Diana. "You too, Ms. Bennett. Gosh, I didn't know Joe was that serious about it. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw him, but the two of you are something else!"
"Wait til you see Vincent," Edie remarked.
Rita turned back to Catherine. "Yeah, where is Vincent? I really want to finally meet this guy."
Catherine nodded toward the doorway. "He's in the living room. Don't you want to get a drink first?"
"No way." Rita took Catherine by the arm. "Excuse us, everyone. I've got a mystery man to meet." She sailed out the door, Catherine in tow.
Diana and Joe exchanged glances, a silent message passing between them. "Excuse us," Diana said to Edie, as she and Joe followed Rita and Catherine.
Standing alone in the suddenly deserted kitchen, Edie stared after them. "Was it something I said?" Failing to receive an answer,she shrugged and resumed her study of the photo album.
"Vincent."
At the touch on his arm, Vincent turned around. Catherine was back and with her was a young woman in a lion mask. "Vincent, I'd like you to meet Rita Escobar. Rita, this is my husband, Vincent."
"Rita." Vincent put out his hand. Rita took it automatically. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Catherine mentions you often."
"Wow!" breathed Rita, studying his face with wonder. "That's fantastic!" She glanced over at Catherine, obviously comparing their faces. "Incredible. But what exactly are you supposed to be?"
Catherine shrugged. "Just fantasy characters, nothing in particular."
"Oh." Rita examined Vincent closely once more, then gave herself a shake. "I'm sorry! You must think I'm very rude, Vincent. Really, I don't normally stare like that at people; just ask Catherine."
"That's true," Catherine agreed solemnly. "Usually Rita stares at people in quite a different manner." She grinned at her friend's mock-outraged stare, and cowered dramatically. "Okay! I apologize! Rita is a perfect Miss Manners and she never, ever stares at people."
Joe, who had silently come up behind her with Diana, snorted, then hurriedly assumed an innocent expression as Rita transferred her glare to him.
"You have a comment to make, Mr. Maxwell?" she asked icily.
"No, ma'am," answered Joe, "not me." His tone was all politeness but his brown eyes twinkled mischievously at her.
Rita held out as long as she could, but when Joe's dimple made its appearance her own mouth twitched, and she succumbed. "You guys," she sighed. "Who needs enemies when they've got friends like you?"
Vincent had been a silent observer to this exchange, appreciating the warmth that manifestly lay behind the friendly teasing. Catherine's affection for her friends, and theirs for her, ran like bright, sparkling wine through his senses. He looked at Diana, standing quietly beside him, and thought how she, as always, seemed to hold herself apart from the camaraderie enjoyed by the others. Even among her friends she stood somehow alone. He moved away from the group, catching Diana's eye as he did so. She followed him over to the window.
He looked at her for a moment. "Catherine was right," he observed with a smile. "You look very beautiful tonight, Diana."
Even in the dim light Vincent could see the ride tide that colored her neck and chest and the little he could see of her real face. Her eyes slid momentarily away, then returned. "The makeup is stunning, isn't it?" Diana said lightly. "I couldn't stop looking in the mirror afterward."
Vincent shook his head. "It isn't the makeup, Diana. You are a beautiful woman, with or without makeup." He paused. "I'm not the only one who thinks so."
END OF PART Two
On to Part Three
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