SUMMARY: Sequel to "The Beast Within". After carrying on a secret affair with Vincent, Catherine makes a shocking discovery. How will her coworkers deal? How will Vincent deal? More importantly, how will she deal?

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters, nor am I affiliated with the show in any way, shape, or form. This story is purely for entertainment purposes. That said, enjoy!

A/N: A special thanks to all who reviewed the preview that I posted in part one. And to adodcefa, thanks anyway for the ideas. :)

A/N #2: Since we ended up with a tie regarding the ending of chapter one (and I just couldn't wait any longer for someone to come along and break it), I finally decided to come up with the following compromise. Hope everyone's okay with it. :)

"This is nice," Catherine remarked, smiling. Since Heather was out clubbing with her friends, she and Vincent had the apartment to themselves for a while, and were currently preparing dinner together. Catherine was cutting up vegetables, while beside her, Vincent did the same.

Returning her smile, he replied, "Yeah, it is."

And it was. It was nice to feel normal, nice to not have to hide in the shadows, nice to act like he and Catherine had a nice, normal relationship.

Glancing up every now and then to watch Vincent, his strong arms flexing as he chopped up a tomato, Catherine silently wondered why guys in the kitchen were such a turn-on, before stopping what she was doing to check on the pasta sauce she was making. She took a taste of it, before wrinkling her nose and asking him to taste it as well.

"Does this taste funny to you?" she asked, holding out a long wooden spoon and using her other hand to keep the sauce from dripping.

"Tastes fine to me," he assured her, shrugging.

"That's weird," she said, placing the spoon back into the pot of sauce.

Noticing some of the sauce had dripped onto her thumb, she was about to lick it off, when he stopped her and instead brought her thumb to his lips. Slowly, sensually, he took her thumb into his mouth and sucked until the sauce was gone. Judging from the look on her face and the sudden change in her scent, he was having an effect on her. That, in turn, had an effect on him.

When he finally released her hand, she teased, "Why, Dr. Keller, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me."

"And here I thought I was being subtle," he replied.

Without another word, he wrapped his muscular arms around her waist, pulled her closer to him, and kissed her tenderly. He trailed his kisses down to her neck, then picked her up, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist as she enjoyed him ever-so-lightly nibbling on her neck. He absently reached to turn off the stove, the meal momentarily forgotten, before carrying her to the living room and laying her gently down on the couch.

Covering her body with his, he moved his mouth down to her chest, slowly unbuttoning her shirt as he went along. He peeled it off of her as if unwrapping a precious gift, then did the same with her bra. His reverence for her sent a tingle through her body and made her want him even more.

While his thumbs teased her nipples, his mouth kissed its way down to her pants. After helping her out of the rest of her clothes, he slowly, torturously rubbed her clitoris, until one orgasm after another vibrated through her. Slipping a couple of fingers inside her velvety heat, he continued to rub her clitoris while pumping his digits into her, and she was soon overtaken by yet another orgasm, then another.

Knowing she was ready for him, he stripped off his own clothes and prepared to enter her, when she stopped him and instead took his stiffness into her mouth. As she moved up and down his manhood, using her tongue to tease the tip, it excited her even more to hear him groan, and even softly growl, in pleasure. Before he would've climaxed, however, he stopped her, his stiffness protesting at the sudden pause in pleasure. Instead, he decided to give them both what they so desperately needed.

Filling her completely with his impressive length, he began a slow, steady rhythm, wanting to savor every moment he was inside her. As they spiralled towards their climax, her moans and words of encouragement spurred him on, and likewise, his moans and groans added to her enjoyment. Finally, he flooded her with his seed as they were both rocked by an earth-shattering orgasm.

After, as they waited to catch their breaths and for their heartbeats to slow back down, he looked her right in the eye and told her tenderly, "I love you, Catherine."

"I love you too, Vincent," she replied, returning his loving gaze.

...

The following morning, Catherine arrived outside a swanky brownstone, the scene of a recent homicide, and greeted her partner, "Hey, Tess. What have we got?"

Indicating the homicide victim, Tess replied, "DB's Bill Garringer, late 30's. That's his wife over there. She says he - Hey, you okay?"

Evan, who was leaning over the dead body, turned his head towards the two detectives and, though concerned, said nothing as Catherine held her wrist to her mouth in an effort to keep from seeing breakfast again.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Catherine answered, trying to regain control of her gag reflex. "You were saying?"

Keeping an eye on her partner, Tess reluctantly continued, "She says he stepped outside to get the paper, and two seconds later, she heard gunshots."

Finally overwhelmed by the stench of the corpse, Catherine rushed to a nearby alley and heaved. Evan wanted to follow and make sure she was alright, but he decided to leave that up to Tess.

"Hey, you sick or something?" Tess asked, handing her partner a napkin. "You normally have an iron stomach."

"I'm fine," Catherine assured her, using the napkin to wipe at the corners of her mouth. "Must've been something I ate."

"If you say so," Tess told her dubiously. "You're sure you're not coming down with something?"

"I'm sure."

"Then maybe it's...ya know, morning sickness."

"What?" Catherine laughed a little at that, not sure if she had heard her partner right. "Of course not. That would be imposs- Well, not impossible. More like improbable."

"So, you and Evan haven't been doing the horizontal tango?"

"Me and Evan? Definitely not."

"Well, that's good, because if you and Evan become a thing, I want to be the first to know."

Laughing off Tess's last remark, Catherine started to accompany her partner back to their crime scene, adding, "Come on. Let's get back to the case."

...

That afternoon, at the station, Catherine was returning to her desk with a couple of case-related files, her stomach already feeling better, when she noticed her desk drawer was slightly open. Setting down the files, she opened it further, only to find a small cardboard box inside.

Sighing, she held up the box for her partner to see and asked, "Tess, what is this?"

"What's it look like?" Tess replied, playing dumb.

"It looks like a home pregnancy test, but it couldn't be since I already told you that I'm not pregnant. This morning was just something I ate. In fact, I already feel better."

"See? Morning sickness," Tess teased. "Seriously, though, what could could it hurt to take the test and be sure? And don't tell me you haven't been getting any because you're happier than you've been in a while."

Conceding her point, Catherine said nothing, but instead quickly stuffed the offending box into her purse and returned to work. She wound up forgetting all about it for the rest of the day as she focused all her brainpower into the case, though she and Tess weren't able to make much headway. However, when she returned home that night and set her purse on the counter, it seemed to stare out at her from the black hole of her handbag.

While she was a couple of days late that month, she had attributed it to the stress of lying to everyone but Vincent and having to watch what she said. Now, though, Tess's words seemed to come back to her: What could it hurt to take the test and be sure?

"This is ludicrous!" she laughingly declared to the empty apartment. "I am not..."

As her gaze again settled on the test currently residing in her purse, though, she just couldn't bring herself to finish that thought.

"Ugh, what the hell?" She finally grabbed the cardboard box and headed for the bathroom.

After reading the instructions and running back into the kitchen for a timer, she opened the box and started the test, making sure to follow the instructions to the letter. As she waited for the timer to finish counting down so she could receive the results, she thought of how she would break the news to Vincent if the test gave her a not-false positive, and tried to imagine what his reaction would be. Then, she started to wonder about her own reaction. Would she be happy if it turned out she was pregnant? Would she be disappointed? Would she be disappointed if the test came up negative, or would she feel relieved?

Getting up from where she sat on the bathtub's edge, she went to the mirror and turned sideways, trying to imagine what she would look like pregnant, trying to wrap her head around the fact that something might be growing inside of her. Before she could contemplate further, though, the timer went off, interrupting her thoughts and nearly making her jump out of her skin.

Picking up the test, she waited for what felt like an eternity as the small screen slowly gave up its result.

Finally, she had her answer: plus sign for positive.

She let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding, and stared at the plus sign for the longest time, trying to process what it meant. Assessing her emotional state, she was surprised to find that she was actually kinda happy about the result. However, the logical part of her brain reasoned that maybe she wasn't ready, that kids are expensive, and that the situation between her and Vincent wasn't exactly ideal. After all, she couldn't exactly introduce him to her friends and family, much less claim him as the father of her child on the birth certificate. Still, though, much to her own surprise, she had already made up her mind that she was going to keep this baby. Vincent's baby.

"Now," she wondered aloud, though she had the apartment all to herself, "how am I gonna tell Vincent?"

At least, she thought she had the apartment to herself. Suddenly, the bathroom door burst open, eliciting a gasp of surprise from her, as well as an exclamation of "Vincent!"

"Tell me what?" he asked.

TO BE CONTINUED...

A/N #3: So, what do y'all think? Do y'all like the compromise I came up with? Was there more I could've added regarding Catherine learning she was pregnant and processing it, or did I handle it sufficiently?