Eye of the Beholder

Author’s Notes: Hey everyone! I survived Thanksgiving with the in-laws, including a turkey that was cooked by a vegetarian. For those of you, who are familiar with Hank’s background, please accept my apologies now. I tried to stay as faithful as I could, but I did have to make some changes in order for it to work for this story. A great big thank you to my reviewers: onewing, Arden Skysender, Wendy and blue_lioness. Thanks to all of you guys, you’re the greatest. The next chapter is written and all you need to do to see it is leave a review for this chapter.

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As the students start cheering and applauding, Logan lets out a low appreciative whistle.

“Holy…,” Angel mutters under his breath.

“Wie schön!” Kurt mumbles and Storm arches an eyebrow at him.

“If you gentlemen are through ogling my date,” Hank smirks over his shoulder at them.

He turns his attention back towards Amanda and he wonders if he should pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming. The little black dress she’s wearing makes her eyes seem even greener than normal, the neck line is low enough to do slightly more than hint at her cleavage and the sandal strap heels makes her legs look long and elegant. His gaze travels up to her smiling face where he sees her hair is a pile of curls on top of her head with a few curling tendrils hanging down and her makeup, though a bit heavier than necessary, has been done to accentuate her eyes.

“You look stunning, my dear,” he says as he steps towards the stairs, holding out his hand and her smile grows even wider.

“Thank you,” she replies as she places her hand in his. “You’re looking very handsome yourself.”

“Thank you,” he responds as he tucks her hand into the crook of his elbow and starts to escort her towards the door, never taking his eyes off of her. “Shall we go?”

“Yes, please,” she answers and he can’t seem to pull his gaze away from her even to watch where they’re going.

A sudden flash causes them both to jump and they turn to see Jubilee standing in their way with a digital camera in her hands and a big grin on her face.

“I’ll email you guys the picture,” she tells them before she disappears into the throng of people staring at them.

“Well, before any more paparazzi make an appearance, we shall be going,” Hank announces with a chuckle.

With that, he leads Amanda to the door and he helps her into her coat. Figuring the show is over, the students start heading towards the dinning room where their own supper awaits them. As Hank is shrugging into his own coat, Storm comes over whishing them a pleasant evening before going off to find her own dinner.

“Don’t do anythin’ I wouldn’t do,” Logan jokes from behind Hank.

“Well, so much for stimulating, intellectual conversation and civilized dancing,” Hank teases back, only glancing over his shoulder at the other mutant.

Before Logan can think of a comeback, Hank opens the front door and whisks Amanda out into the cool night air. He holds the car door for her and she gladly slides onto the bench seat of the large vehicle. He quickly goes around to the driver’s side and gets behind the wheel.

“I must have really been out of it last night,” she admits as they get their seatbelts fastened.

“How so?” he asks as he starts the engine.

“I parked right next to your car and I didn’t recognize it,” she states as the car starts to roll down the driveway. “I even commented on the size difference to Logan.”

“Well, it’s not like you were expecting me to be here,” he consoles her as they drive through the gate. “I take it that the compact that was parked next to me is yours.”

“Yeah, the Matchbox car is mine,” she replies.

“It looks like it’s a rental,” he states curiously.

“That’s because it is,” she confirms.

“You don’t own your own car?” he asks.

“No, I can pretty much get anywhere I need using public transportation and cabs,” she replies. “Besides, parking is a pain in the city.”

“Why rent something so small?” he questions.

“I don’t drive very often,” she answers. “But when I do, I want something that’s going to do as little damage as possible if I hit something.”

“I would think you’d want something that would be big enough to protect you,” he says.

“I did that one time and I about scared myself senseless,” she responds. “I was so paranoid that I’d hit something or someone that I did everything extra slowly. The other drivers on the road that day probably thought I was mentally deficient.”

He chuckles at that as they drive on through the night in silence for a few minutes.

“Might I ask you something?” he inquires.

“Sure,” she tells him.

“Who’s Jeff?” he asks.

“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific,” she replies. “I know several Jeffs.”

“When I first tried calling you and before you thought I was Brian,” he starts to explain. “You said something along the lines of ‘Sorry, Jeff, you wanted her, you got her’.”

“Oh dear Lord,” she moans carefully dropping her face into her hands so as not to smear the makeup. “That brings the total up on how many times I’ve hung up on you to what now?”

“Six,” he immediately answers and she lets out a groan. “Two Saturday morning, one Saturday evening, two on Sunday and then the one on your birthday. But you still haven’t answered my question. Who’s Jeff?”

“An ex-boyfriend,” she says in a flat voice as she brings her head up to stare out the window.

“Ah, I take it it’s safe to assume that things didn’t end well,” he states.

“That’s putting it mildly,” she snorts. “The night before you called, I caught him coming out of my now ex-roommate’s bedroom with his pants barely pulled up.”

“Is it safe to assume that the ‘her’ that you were referring too was your now ex-roommate?” he questions.

“Very safe,” she confirms and she doesn’t sound happy.

“Ok, next question,” he announces, moving onto what he’s pretty sure will be a happier subject. “Who’s Doug?”

“He’s the best girlfriend any girl could ever hope to have,” she proudly states with a laugh.

“I take it’s safe to assume that Doug is not interested in women as anything more than friends?” he inquires.

“Oh yeah, Doug’s as queer as a three dollar bill,” she assures him, snickering. “I take him clothes shopping with me because he’s better at it than I am.”

Before any more can be said about homosexual men and their abilities to out shop Amanda, they pull into a parking lot. They soon find a spot and he helps her out of the car. They quickly go inside and Hank talks to the hostess about the reservation he had made earlier in the day. Before she can truly admire the décor, they’re whisked away to a table in a dark, quiet corner of the dinning room.

“Very nice,” she says while he helps her out of her coat.

“Their food is quite good,” he replies as he holds her chair for her and then pushes her towards the table. “They’re also one of the more tolerant restaurants that I’ve found.”

“It still amazes me that in this day and age that prejudice is still such a problem,” she sighs as she picks up her menu.

“You, my dear, are a breath of fresh air,” he muses, not even bothering to pick up his menu.

“Wannabe hippy parents remember?” she reminds him as she feels her face heat up and she hides behind her menu.

He chuckles and then finally opens his own menu. A few minutes later, the server arrives and takes their orders. As soon as she’s gone, Amanda checks out the décor and is rather impressed with the 20’s motif. In the center is a spacious dance floor with a live band quietly playing off to one side. The tables are set on several tiers that ring the room with their own table being on the highest tier in the back of the room. He watches her to see her reaction and when she turns her attention back to him, she sees him staring at her with that intense gaze of his. She can feel her face start to burn again and he reaches inside of his coat for something.

“Here,” he says as he hands her an envelope that been addressed to her complete with a stamp and a return address. “I believe this is yours.”

“Thank you,” she says as she opens the envelope, takes out the card, reads it and laughs. “‘PS – I’m not Brian’.”

“I thought you might enjoy that,” he chuckles.

“I did, thank you,” she replies while she puts the card and envelope carefully away. “I found your letter, by the way. Thank you for that too.”

“So tell me, who is Amanda Simon?” he requests.

“Now there’s a loaded question,” she teases. “Where exactly should I start?”

“From the beginning,” he instructs.

“Well, in the beginning there was darkness,” she starts with a suppressed smile.

“Too far back,” he laughs.

“I was born in New Haven, Connecticut,” she begins again with a self satisfied smirk. “Dad was an executive at some big company and Mom was a math teacher. When I was eleven, Dad decided he was sick of the rat race and Mom decided that she didn’t like the way the schools were teaching. So they quit their jobs, sold the house and we moved to a five acre plot of land several miles outside of Ashley, Virginia. The property had a big house and barn already there and we had goats and chickens and a big organic vegetable garden and a forest covering most of the property. The woods were perfect for exploring and playing when we weren’t doing chores or homework. After getting my GED, I went to the local college to get the basic stuff out of the way and a couple years later I went to Harvard on a full scholarship. Passed the bar a few years ago and then went to work for Jones and Steele. Not very exciting, but there it is.”

“Tell me about your sister,” he prompts.

“Annie and I look exactly alike but we’re completely the opposite,” she tells him. “While she was playing with dolls, I was playing one on one basketball with my dad. While she was learning to bake cookies, I was learning how high I could climb trees. While she helped Mom clean the house, I was helping Dad to chop wood.”

“Is she a career girl like you?” he asks.

“No, she only went to college to get her teaching credentials,” she answers. “She’s little Suzie Homemaker now. She married a guy from church when she was eighteen and nine months later to the day my nephew was born. My twin nieces were born a couple years later. She still lives in Virginia, but near Williamsburg where she grows her own vegetables and home schools her kids. That type of life would probably drive me up the wall in minutes, but she’s happy as a bug in a rug, so I don’t begrudge her the life she’s chosen. So tell me, who’s Henry ‘Hank’ McCoy?”

“Where shall I begin?” he inquires, a mischievous look on his face.

“From your birth would be good,” she snickers.

“Kill joy,” he playfully pouts and she just grins at him. “Well, I was born in Dunfee, Illinois and before you ask where the devil it is again, it’s a tiny farming community out in the middle of nowhere. My father was employed at a local nuclear power plant and was once exposed to intense nuclear radiation which it is believed to have caused my mutation. I was born with a vast thirst for knowledge and unusually large hands and feet; in fact, my limbs were comparable to those of a gorilla and in school I was given the dubious nick name of Magilla Gorilla. I was into sports in high school, but I quickly learned that not only did I look different, but I was also faster and stronger than my class mates. Shortly after that, Charles Xavier found me and brought me to his school. After learning all I could there, I went onto college where I got my doctorate in sciences. I returned to Xavier’s for a time to work on my research and teach. After that I became involved in politics, became the Secretary for Mutant Affairs for a time and I’m now the ambassador.”

“You make it sound like your life has been nothing special, but it is” she says after a few moments of silence.

“So did you,” he counters. “There’s a lot to be said to having a normal life.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call my life normal,” she points out. “But it wasn’t a bad life either, a bit lonely at times, but not bad.”

“At least you had your sister for company,” he replies. “I was an only child.”

“You went to school with other kids your age,” she counters. “The only time Annie and I were around other kids was when we went to church on Sundays and holidays. I guess it was a good thing for Annie since that’s where she met Mike.”

“What about you?” he questions. “Did you enjoy the solitude?”

“Annie didn’t mind it since she’s so shy, but it about drove me crazy,” she answers. “I wanted to get out, see the world and meet people. I haven’t seen the world yet, but at least with my job I get to meet people. Granted they’re not always the nicest people in the world, but for every pain in the neck I’ve met, there’s always someone who reaffirms my faith in humanity.”

“Hopefully I’m one of the later,” he hints.

“As if you had any doubt?” she laughs before turning somber. “If you hadn’t been there last weekend…”

He watches as her face pales and he can smell the fear coming off of her in waves. He reaches out and places his large hand over the one she has resting on the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. She lays her other hand on top of his as if her hold on him is how she’s holding onto her sanity. He puts his other hand on top of hers and then softly caresses the back of that hand.

“I will do everything in my power to keep you safe,” he states a bit more forcefully then he meant to.

“Thank you,” she whispers, startled by the power in his voice.

She looks down at their hands and then her gaze moves up to his face. Their eyes meet and neither one can look away, both of them lost there. Time doesn’t have any meaning any more and neither one of them cares.

Reality comes crashing back down around them when the server arrives with their dinners. They have to let go of each other as the plates are set before them. After telling them to enjoy their meals, the server disappears again and they sit there in silence for a while.

She stares down at her food, trying to get her wildly beating heart under control while a more primal part of him wants to drag her off to a safe place and protect her from the world. She shakily picks up her utensils and starts to eat, trying to make sense of her confused feelings. He follows her lead, trying to keep himself under control and wondering what’s wrong with him.

“You’re a southpaw,” he states suddenly, startling her out of her reverie.

“Oh, yeah,” she nervously chuckles. “Another thing Annie and I don’t have in common.”

“Is everything alright?” he asks, his head tilting slightly to the side. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Yeah,” she quickly replies and he raises an eyebrow at her. “I was just thinking is all.”

About what?” he inquires.

“You,” she quietly answers, feeling her cheeks warming.

“Me?” he chuckles in surprise. “And what about me were you thinking about?”

“I was thinking about how I’ve never met anyone quite like you before,” she states.

“Well, if you do meet someone else like me, please let me know,” he laughs. “I would love to meet someone as furry as me.”

“I wasn’t talking about your appearance,” she tells him with a smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever gone out with a man who didn’t do or say something that wasn’t insulting to me or my intelligence before.

“I feel sorry for them,” he replies. “But I can’t help but feel glad too.”

“Why’s that?” she asks.

“Because if they hadn’t been such cads, you would have already been taken and you would have never have gone out with me,” he answers staring at her intently and she immediately blushes.

“Can I ask you something?” she inquires.

“Anything,” he replies and it’s her turn to raise an eyebrow as a slightly evil smirk plays across her lips. “Within reason.”

“Kill joy,” she pouts. “How do you get your fur so soft? I’d do just about anything to get my hair to feel like that.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he says. “As I recall, your hair is quite soft.”

“That was after a hair dresser put some extremely expensive conditioner in it,” she points out.

“It looks very soft and touchable now,” he points out as he reaches across the table and she catches his hand in her own.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” she warns. “The girls used so much hair styling product in my hair that this hairdo could probably survive a hurricane. I’m pretty sure I saw a can of shellac at one point while they were working on me. You haven’t answered my question by the way.”

“Conditioner,” he answers. “Lots and lots of conditioner. Please don’t ask me how long it takes me to dry off. Let’s just say I’ve yet to have a hairdryer last more than six months.”

“You should buy stock in a hair dryer and hair conditioner companies,” she jokes.

“I do,” he responds and she laughs.

At that moment the server returns and clears their plates, leaving dessert menus behind. The reading glasses come out and are perched on a blue nose and she can’t help but smile which she tries to hide by looking down at her own menu. He looks over the top of his glasses at her and despite her looking down he can still see the corners of her mouth twitching.

“I never realized that a dessert menu could be so amusing,” he teases and he watches with much amusement as she blushes right up to her hairline.

“Very,” she replies without bothering to look up.

Before he has a chance to press her for an answer, the server returns for their orders. After the woman leaves, Amanda turns her attention down to the dance floor and watches the small number of couples out there. He returns his glasses to his pocket and then follows her gaze down to the lower level.

“Do you dance?” he asks.

“I used to a long time ago,” she answers. “The last time I had a decent dance partner was at my sister’s wedding and that was my dad.”

“Would you care to dance?” he inquires.

“I would love to,” she replies

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Wie schön – German, how beautiful

GED – General Education Diploma

Southpaw – a left handed person