A Match Made in Heaven

While Katherine was sitting on the bed, considering her surroundings, she noticed that the room was beginning to fill with pleasant smells. At first she wondered, but quickly she realized that it was food, and probably coming from downstairs. She followed the scent back to the kitchen, and sure enough, there was Vic standing in the kitchen over a large skillet looking almost comical in a white apron and with a spatula in his hand.

Vic glanced over, and seeing her standing at the bottom of the stairs, spoke to her. "I was just fixing an early supper. Would you care to join me?"

She had to admit that whatever he was cooking smelled heavenly. And she realized to her chagrin that she was actually quite hungry. Trying to put aside her animosity, she shrugged her shoulders and said, "Sure. What are we having?"

Vic and Katherine headed to the table, moving toward each other in the process. Katherine pulled out the nearest chair as if to sit as far from Vic as possible. Vic, however moved to the chair directly next to her and held out the skillet for her to see what he had made, announcing, "Seafood pasta caliente- you do like sea food I hope?"

"Yes, I do but I'm not overly fond of spicy foods. It smells spicy."

"Yes, it's spicy," Vic told her. "But I had a feeling about you, so I made it milder than usual."

Katherine didn't like his easy manner as if he had always known her, or his acting as if he could read her mind somehow. Who knows, with the kind of freaky people they had out her, maybe he thought he could. But Katherine found it rude and presumptuous- even if he did make the food more to her liking. It still left her feeling irritated. What other assumptions would he be making about her?

With an obvious air of irritation, she began to eat. She had to admit however, that the food was utterly sumptuous. She had to force herself not to verbalize how delicious the meal really was, still a soft mmm, escaped from between her lips, as soft and nearly unperceivable as the purr of a cat. Vic made no comment on it, and Katherine chose to believe that it had gone unnoticed. "You know, where I come from," Katherine said pointedly, "we aren't so familiar with people we hardly know."

"Yes," Vic admitted. "That's one of the many things to love about this place. It's so open and friendly. Maybe it's the beach, I don't know. But I'm glad I didn't grow up in some stuffy place all former and proper. It would be just stifling." Vic paused and gave her a sideways sort of glance. "No offense," he added not sounding a bit like he actually meant it.

Katherine was just about to throw down her fork and head straight for the door. How dare he talk to her like that! But she was hungry and the food was there in front of her, so she took a deep breath and calmed herself.

"Where I come from, it's called manners." She said icily. "And upbringing."

"And where I come from, we call it snobbery," Vic shot back. He had meant it teasingly, but it came out harsh and mean. They finished there meal in silence, shooting each other ugly looks now and then over their plates.

Katherine finished her dinner and washed her own dishes. Then she went back upstairs to be alone. Once in her aunts room, she realized that she could never sleep here. This seemed to her to be her aunts sacred space. A space she did not feel comfortable invading. And yet there was only one other room. One room, and two people who laid claim to it.

She looked at her wristwatch. The glowing arms read 7:30. She would be ready to turn in soon- but she had another dilemma to solve first. And this wasn't going to be fun.

***

Vic Valentine set his dishes in the sink. He'd get to them later. He already knew that he was in for another fight. He also knew that it was rude of him to think it but that Katherine Banks was quite adorable when she got herself all worked up. Vic didn't think he had ever met anyone as uptight as her, and he had had the misfortune of dealing with a wealthy snob or two in his day.

Vic didn't get the impression that Katherine came from money, however. Quite the contrary, she seemed as if she were somebody who had brought up to behave extra well to avoid anyone getting the idea that she might be little more than poor white trash. Sort of like Eliza Doolittle insisting, 'I'm a good girl I am!" when she found herself in the immodest position of being cleaned up by a team of female maids.

Vic figured that to someone like Katherine, a young man such as himself knowing about the play 'My Fair Lady' would seem a bit strange, or at least not entirely heterosexual. However, Vic was lucky enough to live in a place where gender rolls where a bit more relaxed, and he had been able to savor much of the best of both worlds. Besides his friend Aimee Blanchard had been quite a cultured lady and had insisted that he would enjoy many of the things she did, if he gave them a chance. Which of course he did. Aimee was a difficultly person to say know to, she was so full of enthusiasm, she just carried everyone along with her. Vic really didn't know how her own niece had resisted her for so long- even it seemed- to the end. It was sad really, Vic thought. Aimee spoke so highly of her niece. She must have changed since Aimee had seen her last. Vic could see a spark of something there that Aimee would have loved, but most of what the older woman had described to him seemed absent from the prim and even prudish girl that had only just arrived on his doorstep.

As he was bracing himself for it, the next round began. Katherine once again flew down the stairs speaking in measured but demanding tones. "I don't knew where you are expecting to sleep, Mr. Valentine. I am here now and this is my house after all, so I do expect to have the guest bedroom back. You certainly can't stay in my aunt's room and so I suppose you knew what that means. It will have to be the couch."

"Sorry darling," Vic drawled, "that just won't work for me."

He could see her expression tightening, her eyebrows drawing dangerously close to one another. "Regardless of how you feel about it, that's just the way it's going to have to be."

Vic chuckled. Katherine looked like she wanted to throw something at him. "You're more than welcome," he told her languidly, "to *share* the guest bedroom with me. I promise I won't make a single move on you while you sleep."

She didn't seem to know that he was teasing. "Our of the question," came her clipped reply. "the room is mine." It was settled. It wasn't a question and she wasn't taking no for any answer.

"Actually, as a matter of technicality- the room is mine," he reminded her. "But if you want to sleep in there surrounded by my things with the smell of me lingering in the air- well, I really can't blame you. I am known as quite a catch around here."

"I assure you-"

"Oh, I understand," he continued with a smirk, "that you don't want to admit that's the *real* reason for wanting to sleep in there. I could tell right away you weren't the type to where your heart on your sleeve. I understand. I'm a very understanding guy. It's part of my charm."

Katherine did not look amused in the least. "Mr. Valentine-"

"Must we treat each other like strangers?" he continued on. "Call me Vic. Mr. Valentine is my father. He's very handsome too of course. It's where I get my looks. Way past his prime though. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be interested in him. He'd like you though-"

"I'm not interested in you!" she insisted, sounding quite exasperated. "The only thing I want from you is for you to get out of my house!"

"Sure darlin' just as soon as you serve me with the court papers."

"Stop calling me darling!" she demanded. Vic knew that he had gotten under her skin and for some reason it made him extremely happy. "I'm sick of this discussion, I'm sick of you. I'll have your court papers first thing in the morning! But right now I'm tired. So you win- are you happy?" Vic did his level best to keep a straight face although he was laughing and smiling heartily on the inside. "I will sleep on the couch tonight- but I'm exhausted, and I want to go to bed right now. So if you just run along to your so called room, we can end this conversation right now."

That was just what he did. He left the dishes in the sink for tomorrow, locked the front door and went up to his room. Halfway up the stairs he said in a soft slightly mocking tone, "goodnight darling." If she heard it, she made no mention of it.

***

Morning came and sunlight streamed though the room. Unnecessarily bright rays of light beamed across Katherine's face, giving her cause to squirm and turn. She felt the sheets tangle beneath her and remembered where she was. With a groan she opened up her eyes to see a rumpled young man standing uncomfortable close by who had apparently been watching her sleep with some interest. The idea was not comforting.

His expression changed quickly and he tried to divert his eyes. She let him think that she was convinced and stole a moment to observe him.

His blond hair was messy, sticking up ever which way and reminding her more of Dennis the Menus than of the blond Superman of the day before. His white cotton pajamas were wrinkled and the thin gray stripes did not lay neatly as they should have. She allowed herself to stereotype him based on the way he looked at this moment- immature, irresponsible, disorganized, sloppy. Somewhere a sleepy part of her brain was whispering that he wasn't really like that, that she was being unfair. The other sections of her brain gagged this part and started singing loudly to drown out even the memory of those thoughts.

Katherine herself slept in pajamas that matched the simple men's style of Vic's pajamas in form if not in content. Her own sleepwear was a deep wine colored silk that looked elegant even in the early waking hours. Her hair was, or course, in a tight French braid that kept every hair in place while she slept. Even in her sleep she was elegant and composed. In Katherine's world, their was just no room for sloppiness, and being asleep was no excuse. You never new when you might be called out of bed for an emergency, and it would never do to be standing outside a burning building in your birthday suit, clutching whatever sheet or towel was on hand to yourself for modesty. If her mother taught her anything it was to consider all the possibilities and be practical and prepared. Whatever was to befall her, Katherine was not going to be caught unaware.

And yet, here she was, clutching a sheet to her chest despite her already modest covering. She had forgotten that she was sleeping on her late Aunt's couch, and she had certainly not expected to wake finding her unwanted guest staring at her. Vic Valentine had caught her off her game. This would not do.

Katherine was careful to keep any emotion from her voice. "Your still here?" she drawled, congratulating herself at sounding bored rather than startled.

Vick just chuckled. Nothing seemed to phase him. "Breakfast is ready," he informed her lightly.

She shot him a meaningful look and he looked confused and then realized that she wanted him to leave so that she could get up. When she joined him in the kitchen, he just shrugged to himself. "So what's on the menu this morning?" she asked him.

"Apricot Crepes," he said producing the plate with a flourish. The table itself was set with coffee, orange juice, toast, butter, jam and a bowl of fresh fruit.

"Your kidding?"

"No why?"

"Nothing." She ate in silence. Vic tried several times to engage her in conversation, but she just buried herself in her coffee cup. Occasionally Katherine would acknowledge his half hearted attempts with a grunt that seemed to end the conversation rather than extend it. Finally he simply gave up.

Katherine did have a lot on her mind. She needed to run by the attorney's office before the meeting with the publisher today, already an early appointment. Straighten all of this mess up about Vic staying in the house. It just wouldn't do to have him here a moment longer. And yet, the fact that breakfast was waiting when she woke up was extremely convenient for her. If he where to stay, would this always be the case? She brushed the thought aside. He was not staying at that was that. Besides, he was probably just doing it to make her change her mind. If she where to relent and agree to be temporary room-mates, he would revert back to his natural slobbish ways, she was sure.

Unless- Katherine had heard of such things, but she had never met anyone. Was it possible? The fancy food the, thoughtful table setting, the fact attention to detail and seemingly good fashion sense- his current outfit not withstanding- could she be dealing with what her mothers friends all politely referred to as a 'confirmed bachelor'?

"What?" he asked her quizzically.

"Nothing," she answered quickly and lifted her coffee mug to her face.

***

Author's note: Thanks for the votes and feedback so far. Apparently, I'm an even worse speller than I think I am, lol. No hard feelings. I'm glad that you are enjoying the story so far and I promise that the errors will be fixed at some point. Thanks for bearing with me thus far, I am taking all your advice and comments into consideration.:)