Eye of the Beholder

Author’s Notes: Thank you blue_lioness (for both reviews), Namipulla, onewing and my new reviewer Wendy Harmon for your reviews. So yes, Amanda and Hank finally meet this chapter. Oh, the things I have planned for these two. *evil laughter*

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It takes him very little time to find her; the only trick now is stay out of sight until the right moment. Fortunately, she’s so absorbed in looking for her Phantom that she doesn’t seem to notice a Beast following her. At one point he gets close enough to smell her perfume and hear the rustling of her dress; all the while she’s completely oblivious to his presence.

“Where the bloody hell has the little twerp gotten off to?” he hears her growl to herself and he has to quietly chuckle to himself.

Her searching eventually leads her back towards the dance floor that’s mostly empty, though the band is returning to the stage and he quietly moves closer like a big blue lion stalking its prey. Just as he predicted, when she sees Storm standing in the middle of the dance floor by herself, she stops. This will be the trickiest part since she’s now looking for him and he actually gets down in a crouch to get out of her line of sight drawing funny looks from other party goers, but he doesn’t care, he’s having too much fun. He manages to get right behind her just as she stands on her tip toes and he knows that its time.

“Looking for something?” he nearly purrs next to her ear.

She lets out a rather unlady like sound, loses her balance and starts to fall towards him. With relative ease, he catches her in his arms and looks down at her startled face. He stares at her and he’s not sure who’s more surprised, her when she sees who has hold of her or him because of those incredible green eyes. But he doesn’t get much of a chance to gaze at them as she starts to struggle to stand back up.

“Oh my god, Ambassador, I’m so sorry,” she gasps as she tries to right herself while the band starts to play again.

Between her shoes not being properly on her feet, the vast amount of material of the skirt and her haste to get back on her feet, it’s a disaster waiting to happen. No sooner does she push herself upright than one of her ankles twist causing her to shout in pain as she loses her balance and starts falling to the side. He quickly reaches out and catches her again, but this time making sure he has a firmer grip on her so she can’t get away.

“Are you alright?” he asks in concern.

“I think I just twisted my ankle,” she gasps as the pain shoots up her leg.

“Try to put weight on it,” he instructs as he rights her, still maintaining his grip.

“OW!” she yelps as she quickly sifts her weight onto her uninjured foot. “Yup, I twisted it. Perfect.”

“Is everything alright?” Storm asks as she comes up to them.

“I’m afraid Miss Simon has twisted her ankle,” he answers, not letting go of the injured woman as she balances on one foot. “We should get her seated and then get some ice on that ankle.”

“There’s seating upstairs,” Storm states. “I’ll go find a waiter and get some ice.”

“Good idea,” he replies as he bends over and scoops Amanda up into his arms before she can object while Storm disappears through the crowd.

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Amanda asks as Hank lifts her as if she weighs no more than a feather.

“No, I’m afraid not,” he answers with a smile on his face.

“Well, as long as we’re clear on the matter,” she states, feeling the blood rushing to her face as he makes his way through the crowd, drawing a lot of stares.

“Very clear,” he replies, a smirk firmly planted on his lips.

“You know, normally I would be protesting being handled this way,” she tells him as they make their way from the dance floor that’s filling up with dancers.

“And normally I wouldn’t be going all primeval on you, but you, my dear, owe me a few answers and I must insist on having them,” he responds jovially. “Now, before you protest, let’s get you someplace where I can have a look at that ankle and then we will talk.”

“And I really get no say in this,” she repeats.

“That’s right,” he confirms and she sighs in defeat, not that she really minds being carried since her feet are killing her, she can feel her ankle swelling up and she’s dog tired.

Not sure what to do with herself, she tentatively puts her arm around his shoulders just to keep from being bounced around as he carries her through the people milling about. She doesn’t want to look at the people staring at them so she turns her attention to the ambassador. He smells incredibly good and despite the blue fur, she can see a very handsome face there. She doesn’t realize she’s staring until he glances down at her and she feels her cheeks suddenly get very hot. She quickly looks down and realizes he can see straight down her dress. She tries to pull her shawl over her chest without making it too obvious, but there’s just no subtle way to do it.

He tries not to chuckle when he sees her try to cover herself since if he had wanted to, he could have already had a good long look at her cleavage. Fortunately for her, he would never offend a lady by ogling her, of course telling her that is out of the question. Instead he just takes in a deep breath and quickly identifies her shampoo, soap, perfume, makeup, lotion, deodorant, hairspray and underneath it all, unique only to her, is her own true scent which he knows he won’t be forgetting any time soon.

“Well, this won’t do,” he mutters as he stops and stares at the throng of people waiting for the elevators. “We’ll just have to take the stairs.”

“I don’t think I can climb stairs right now,” she nervously states as he turns and continues walking through the crowd.

“That’s good since I have no intention of letting you,” he replies, marching along proudly with his catch.

“What about the escalators?” she suggests as he goes right past the devices.

“I’m afraid your dress might become caught since it’s dragging along the ground,” he tells her. “Your dry cleaner isn’t going to like me.”

“It’s not my dress and right now you have no idea how happy that makes me,” she sighs as he starts up the stairs.

A minute later and they enter the upper area that’s nearly as crowded as down stairs except that there are round tables of various diameters scattered down the length of the hall each covered with white table cloths and with candles in the center giving off an ambient glow. Hank comes to a stop at the top of the stairs and looks around for an empty chair. She looks around as well, but it looks as if all of the seats are spoken for. She’s about to suggest just sitting on the stairs when he suddenly heads for a dark corner of the museum. She turns to see Storm waiting for them there by an empty table with a man in a server’s outfit next to her.

“Is everything all right, sir?” the man asks nervously as Hank carefully deposits Amanda in one of the chairs.

“Oh, yes, just a bit of a mishap,” Hank assures him.

“Klutzy me, I stepped on my skirt and twisted my ankle,” Amanda says as she gets comfortable in her seat.

“Is there anything you need?” the man inquires, still jumpy.

“A bag of ice, if you please,” Hank requests as he takes the seat next to Amanda.

“Right away,” the man replies with a nod before turning and beating a hasty retreat.

“Sorry about that,” Storm grumbles as she sits down at another seat. “I asked for a bag of ice and he wanted to know why. I told him, but he didn’t believe me and insisted on seeing for himself.”

“That’s alright, ‘Ro,” Hank assures her. “With the President here, the staff is likely to be a bit jumpy.”

“I suppose,” Storm mutters and then stands back up. “I’m going to get something to drink. Would either of you like something?”

“Yes, please,” Amanda answer while she slips her feet out of her shoes with a sigh of relief

“That would be lovely ‘Ro, thank you,” he says and then turns towards Amanda. “May I see your foot, please?”

“Just as soon as can I find it,” she replies as she starts pulling up the many layers of her skirts.

“My goodness, I’ve seen sailing ships with less material,” he chuckles and she snickers along with him.

“Ah, there it is,” she announces when the appendage is finally revealed as he picks up the candle holder and moves it towards them.

Without a word, he gently takes her foot in one hand while pulling his glasses out of his coat pocket with the other. She twitches as he examines her and he looks up at her over the top of his glasses. She looks like she’s trying to remain very still, but only just managing it. At first he thinks it’s because he’s a mutant and a rather obvious one at that until he turns his gaze onto her face. She’s biting her lip and it looks like its taking everything she has not to laugh.

“Let me guess, my fur tickles,” he says with an amused look on his face.

All she can do is nod so he pulls out his handkerchief to guard her from his ticklish fur and then goes back to examining her foot. He asks her to wiggle her toes and carefully feels for anything that could be out of place as she silently watches him, too tired to be concerned what anyone might think about this. Just as he’s finishing his exam, the server returns with a bag of ice on a tray and holds the tray out to Hank, putting as much distance he can between himself and the Ambassador without being completely rude.

“Thank…,” Hank begins as he picks up the bag and the server makes himself scarce as fast as possible. “…you.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t leave a tread mark on the floor,” she nearly growls, scowling at the server’s quickly retreating back.

“You know, the newspapers all said that you’re not a mutant,” he states with a quizzical look on his face.

“I was raised by a couple of wannabe hippies,” she replies with a shrug. “I got the whole, ‘make love, not war’ thing when growing up. Any surprise people who are different don’t tend to bother me so much?”

“I wish more people were raised that way,” he sighs as he stands, puts her foot on his seat and then carefully puts the ice on it.

“It would be nice, but then I’d probably be out of a job,” she replies with a smile and he chuckles as he takes the next seat over.

“I got water,” Storm announces as she steps up to the table and sets bottles down in front of the other two. “I’m glad to see that waiter didn’t conveniently ‘forget’ to bring you the ice.”

“Ah, thank you, Ororo, you’re an angel,” Hank says with a smile while putting away his glasses.

“Thank you very much,” Amanda echoes as she opens her bottle. “How’s Serena doing?”

“She’s doing better,” Storm answers. “She’s hoping you’ll come and visit soon.”

“I was planning on coming up next weekend,” Amanda tells her. “Would that be alright?”

“Next weekend will be fine,” Storm assures her. “Are you just coming for a day or the whole weekend?”

“Oh, I didn’t know there was an option,” Amanda replies in surprise. “I’m not sure yet, it depends on a case I’m working on and whether we can get a court date set soon. Why don’t I let you know later in the week?”

“That’ll be fine,” Storm replies.

“How’s Serena getting along with Kitty?” Amanda asks. “I know she was still a bit upset when I last heard from her.”

“Kitty is mad at her now and I’m not sure why,” Storm responds, perplexed. “It’s something about a secret being told and I can’t get anything more out of them. But whatever it is, it seems to involve Logan.”

“I’ll see what I can get out of her next weekend,” Amanda assures her. “And if worse comes to worse, I’ll play legal mediator.”

“Thank you,” Storm sighs with relief. “I swear teenage girls can be a real handful.”

“According to my mother teenage girls are aliens pretending to be human until they’re around eighteen,” Amanda says and the other two chuckle.

“Does you’re mother have a lot of experience with teenage girls?” Hank asks, finally joining the conversation.

“Just me and my sister,” Amanda answers. “But according to her, we were plenty. She says all of her gray hairs have our names on them.”

“So, what’s the age difference?” he inquires as he takes a sip of his water.

“Ten minutes in my favor,” Amanda answers. “Mom always says I’ve always been the pushy one so it only made sense that I came out first.”

“Identical or fraternal?” he questions.

“We’re identical,” Amanda replies.

“It’s hard to believe that the world was blessed with two beautiful women at the same time,” he says and she immediately starts to blush.

“Thank you,” she mumbles as she takes a quick drink of her water and stares down at her lap.

Where the devil did that come from? He thinks to himself, thanking the heavens that his fur covers his own blushing, before continuing aloud. “I’m certainly the luckiest fellow this evening to have the company of two lovely ladies with me. But I’m afraid that my good fortune comes at the price of another’s misfortune. So tell me, my dear, where is your Phantom?”

“Now there’s the $6400 question,” Amanda sighs, looking back up. “I turned to look at one of the exhibits and when I turned back, he was gone.”

“So why follow me around if you’re looking for him?” he asks.

“Well, he’s an up and coming who is pro-mutant,” she answers.

“Ah, so you thought he would come and find me,” he states.

“Like a moth to the flame,” she replies. “At least that was my hope. I don’t understand why he didn’t go talk to you, but it could be that he met you before I noticed you were here. Either way, I wasted my time.”

“It could be that I did speak to him earlier this evening,” he says. “What’s his name?”

“James Jones,” she responds.

“The name doesn’t sound familiar, sorry,” he replies.

“That’s ok, it means I didn’t miss him,” she tells him with a shrug. “Just wish I knew where he got off to.”

“Didn’t you set up a meeting place if you got separated?” he inquires.

“I tried to, but he assured me that he wouldn’t let me out of his sight,” she answers as she reaches down and adjusts the ice on her ankle. “Guess I should have seen this coming.”

“Well, his loss, my gain,” he chuckles and she can feel her cheeks heating up again. “The question is now, what do you plan on doing if you can’t find him?”

“I’ll call a cab,” she replies. “I’ve got my cell phone and some money, so I’m no danger of being stranded.”

“That’s good,” he sighs with relief, sitting back in his chair and getting more comfortable. “Speaking of cell phones, Serena kept trying to reach you last weekend, but wasn’t able to get through. What happened?”

“Oh, that,” she groans embarrassment. “My mother kidnapped my cell phone and wouldn’t give it back until my dad dropped me off at the train station to go home. I was not a happy camper, I can tell you.”

“Not a nice thing to do,” he says as he tries not to smile. “Especially on your birthday.”

“I know, it about drove me…,” she starts and then confusion sets in. “How did you know it was my birthday?”

“I have my sources,” he answers while his lips twitch as they try to break into a smile. “Tell me, my dear, who’s Brian?”