Eye of the Beholder

Author’s Notes: Thank you onewing and Arden for your reviews. Hope this one is as amusing as the last chapter.

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Mate, The Beast purrs sometime after Amanda has fallen asleep and Hank sighs as he continues to stroke her hair.

“Maybe someday,” Hank mutters under his breath while he casts another glance down at the woman sleeping beside him.

Mate! The Beast insists with a bit of a growl.

“Patience,” Hank reminds it calmly.

Hank’s too busy enjoying the feeling of the soft hair beneath his fingers to be too concerned about his primal self. He can ‘hear’ it growling in the back of his mind, pacing in its cage and Hank is confident that there’s nothing it can do to make Hank release it. When Amanda moans his name in her sleep he’s taken completely by surprise and that’s when The Beast attacks, catching Hank where he’s most vulnerable.

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She’s sitting in her favorite tree back at her parent’s place, but instead of her back resting against the trunk of the tree like normal, she’s sitting in Hank’s lap with her back against his chest. He’s stroking her hair and she sighs with contentment as she relaxes further into him. She’s not sure how long she’s been sitting there, but she yearns to touch him, to pet him, stroke him, but her arms seem to be made out of lead and he refuses to put his other arm around her.

“Hank,” she whimpers.

She tries to lift her arms but they refuse to cooperate and she starts to become frustrated. She tries to move but the paralysis in her arms seems to have spread to her entire body. She about ready to scream in frustration when the tree starts to violently shake and then something softly bumps the top of her head.

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An image of Amanda lying under him in a bed, her hair a black halo around her head on the pillow, her eyes closed, a look of ecstasy on her face, small mewls of pleasure escape her lips and a thin layer of sweat coats her body suddenly appears in his mind’s eye. It catches him completely by surprise and to make maters worse he can feel his blood heading south as his pants start to get uncomfortably tight. He’s so distracted that it’s not until he hits the rumble strip that he realizes that he’s drifting off of the road.

He grabs the wheel with both hands and regains control of the car while he shifts around in his seat trying to get more comfortable. Amanda gives a small grunt of surprise as his hip bumps into the top of her head and her eyes blink open. He groans inwardly as he brings all of the wheels back up onto the road and she pushes herself up onto her arms, groggily looking around.

“What’s going on?” she asks sleepily.

“Oh, uh, nothing, my dear,” he hastily assures her. “Just avoiding something in the road. I’m sorry to have woken you, go back to sleep.”

“How long have I been asleep?” she questions with a yawn while she moves back into her seat.

“About an hour,” he replies, trying to keep the tension out of his voice since he desperately wants to readjust himself with his hand but doesn’t dare. “It’s alright if you want to get a bit more sleep.”

“No, that’s ok,” she responds as she arches her back in a stretch, her arms over her head and he can feel even more blood headed for below the belt. “If I nap any more, I won’t get any sleep tonight. Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” he answers as he shifts one of his legs to try and ease his discomfort. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, you keep shifting around like something’s bothering you,” she replies as she starts to try and fold the blanket.

“I seem to be developing a bit of a leg cramp,” he hastily lies.

“Would you like me to drive for a while?” she offers, dreading that he’ll say ‘yes’.

“No, that’s alright,” he assures her. “Would you mind if we pulled off for a bit? I’m in need of a restroom.”

“That sounds good,” she replies. “I could use one myself.”

Hank takes the next exit off of the highway and they drive on in silence as he tries to ignore the discomfort in his pants and she tries to remember the dream she was having. A short time later they’re pulling up in front of a little coffee shop and they get out without a word. He eyes the place suspiciously, but the discomfort between his legs is really leaving him no choice.

“Well, this place seems harmless enough,” she states as she starts for the door. “Shall we go in?”

“It’s not the building that concerns me, but the people inside,” he replies as he can see several people through the glass staring at them.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” she tells him with a shrug. “Beside, now that I’ve been thinking about it, I could really use a bathroom too.”

“Alright, let’s go inside,” he says as he comes around the car twitching his hips in hopes that his body will start to behave.

“Are you alright?” she inquires, a slightly worried look on her face. “You’re walking kind of funny.”

“Cramp,” he reminds her.

“Oh, right,” she replies and tries to hide her smile as he opens the door for her.

Warm air filled with the smells of fresh roasted coffee and baked goods washes over them and they both inhale deeply. They quickly step inside, letting the door close itself behind them and pointedly ignore the people glaring at them. Amanda heads for the line of people waiting to place their orders with Hank following close behind.

“I’m going to get something to help me wake up,” she states over her shoulder at him. “Would you like me to get you something?”

“A small black coffee will be fine, thank you,” he replies distractedly as he carefully watches the people around them.

“Ok,” she says. “Why don’t you go use the bathroom, while I place our orders?”

“Are you sure?” he asks, looking a bit worried.

“I think I can manage to order a couple of coffees by myself even with one eye,” she tells him with a hint of a smile on her lips. “Go to the bathroom, I’ll be fine. See if you can work that cramp out of your leg.”

By the time what she’s said sinks into his brain, she’s turned back around and he’s staring at the back of her head. He regretfully realizes that despite the several minutes of driving, the cold air and the openly hostile looks some of the other clients are giving them, he still has a problem with his pants being too tight. With as much dignity that he can muster, he heads towards the back of the shop and down a hallway towards the bathrooms.

He figures a paper towel soaked in cold water should help relieve his rather embarrassing predicament, but when he steps into the bathroom all he sees is one of those power air driers on the wall. With a groan of disappointment, he locks the door behind him and stares down at the very obvious bulge in his pants. He tries to concentrate on The Beast and finds it quite smugly sitting at the back of his mind and Hank knows it’s the reason his blood is pooling in that one area of his anatomy.

With a sigh of frustration, Hank tries to will his blood to go back to where it belongs, but still his body is conspiring against him as his engorged member refuses to reduce in size. He tries to concentrate on a complex scientific formula he’s been working on in his spare time and yet his pants remain painfully constricting. He desperately tries to think of something that will shrink his problem down when suddenly he gets a mental image of Logan in a skort and that takes care of everything.

With a sigh of relief, he uses the facilities, washes his hands and then goes in search of his passenger. He finds her patiently waiting at a table near the hallway with a couple of cups of coffee sitting in front of her.

“There you are,” she smiles. “I was beginning to think I was going to have to call in the National Guard to rescue you.”

He gives her a rather sardonic look and she stands up.

“My turn,” she tells him with a grin and then starts to head off to the restroom, pausing just behind him. “Glad to see you got that cramp worked out of your leg.”

He listens to her foot steps disappearing down the hall and then with a groan he bangs his head a few times on the table, ignoring the stares people around him are giving him. It’s not embarrassing enough to get a blasted erection around her, but to have her notice is beyond humiliating. With another sigh of disgust, he sits back up, rubbing his forehead and patiently waits for her return.

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She stands staring at the mirror waiting for the bright red glow of her face to fade. She can’t believe that she just teased him about such an embarrassing predicament, especially since he had been such a gentleman about it and not a letch like some other guys she’s dated. She splashes some water on her face to help cool it down, touches up her makeup and then heads back out where she nearly runs into a good looking man that’s several inches taller than her and has muscles to spare.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologizes, taking a quick step back.

“That’s ok, sugar,” he smirks as he leers at her.

“Um, excuse me, I need to get by,” she says as she tries to squeeze past him in the narrow hallway.

“Where ya goin’, sweet cheeks?” he asks while continuing to ogle her.

“My friend is waiting for me,” she answers as she continues to try and get past him.

“You mean that freak?” he scoffs as he steps closer to her, forcing her to step back against the wall. “I could show you a much better time than that giant blue hairball.”

“That ‘freak’ is Ambassador Henry McCoy and you would do well to remember that,” she warns, glaring at him as best she can with one eye nearly swollen shut. “Now please let me by.”

“He give you that black eye?” the man questions as he continues to block her way.

“No, he didn’t,” she replies coldly. “Now please get out of my way.”

She pushes her way past him but only gets a couple of steps before one of his beefy arms is around her middle, dragging her backwards and before she can scream his hand is over her mouth.

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Hank waits patiently for his traveling companion who, according to his watch, is taking much longer in the bathroom than he did. He contemplates various teases he can give her when an odor he’s only smelled once before reaches his nostrils and he growls deep in his throat. He launches himself out of his seat, knocking both chair and table over while sending their drinks flying as he follows the scent of Amanda’s fear.

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After getting over the initial shock of being grabbed, Amanda’s fear nearly paralyzes her as this Neanderthal drags her further away from Hank. Then she thinks of James and what he had planned on doing to her just a week ago. Her fear turns to rage in about two nanoseconds as she refuses to be a victim of yet another male who views women as little more than things.

She drives her elbow into his solar plexus causing him to grunt in pain and stop for a second. The instant they stop moving, she drives her heel down onto his instep causing him to give a small yelp of pain and loosen his grip on her. Her fist flies over her shoulder and nails him right in the nose and his grip on her loosens even more as he grabs his face and lets out a shout. Before he has time to recover, her arm swings downward in a hundred and eighty degree arc before her hand connects to his groin and she steps out of the way as he starts to topple like a redwood tree.

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Hank charges down the hallway towards the bathroom and follows the sound of a struggle going on just around the corner. He skids around the turn in time to see a fairly large man collapsing to the ground holding his manhood and his face and a very pissed off Amanda walking away from him. She looks like she’s about to spit nails as she fishes her phone out of her pocket.

“What happened?” he asks, staring at the man writhing in pain on the floor.

“I taught him to S.I.N.G.,” she snarls while she opens the phone with a shaking hand and starts trying to dial.

“Soprano from of the looks of it, too,” he mutters as he slightly cringes in sympathy and then lays his hand on top of hers to stop her from making her call. “You’ll get the police here a lot faster if you use a land line.”

“What’s going on here?” a strange man’s voice demands.

“Or maybe even sooner if you don’t call at all,” Hank mutters as he turns towards a pair of police officers that are standing in the hallway, hands on their guns.

“We got a report of a mutant causing a disturbance,” the second officer states, glaring at Hank, his badge reading McDuff.

“The man you want is over there,” Amanda states, pointing at the man trying to get up off of the floor.

“He doesn’t look like a mutant,” the first officer says, suspiciously eyeing her and his badge reading Shaffer.

“You do realize that most mutants look perfectly normal don’t you?” Amanda asks with a raised eyebrow.

“What happened?” Shaffer asks as he moves past Amanda and Hank to get a better look at the man still trying to get to his feet.

“I came out of the bathroom, that man was standing there blocking my way, I asked him to move, he refused, he insulted Ambassador McCoy, I tried to leave and then he grabbed me,” Amanda answers precisely and succinctly.

“Is that what happened, sir?” Shaffer questions.

“Of course not,” the man hisses in pain. “I was just standin’ there mindin’ my own business when she came out and propositioned me. Seein’ as I have a wife and kids, I of course refused and then she attacked me.”

“Are you sure that’s how it happened, sir?” Shaffer inquires.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” the man snaps.

“Miss?” Shaffer prompts.

“I suggest that you ask the manager for the surveillance tape,” she suggests, pointing up at the small camera mounted in the corner at a perfect angle to get everything on tape.

“That sounds like a really good idea,” Shaffer agrees as he helps the man to his feet. “Let’s go do that right now.”

“I’m tellin’ ya, she attacked me,” the man insists as Shaffer continues to help the man along by firmly holding onto his arm.

The five of them tromp out of the hallway into the main dinning area where a couple of workers are cleaning up a mess nearby. A woman behind the counter with a name tag that says ‘Joan’ comes bustling out towards them and she looks very upset.

“Officer, I want you to arrest that…thing,” Joan demands while pointing at Hank.

“On what charges?” Shaffer asks.

“He was wrecking the place,” Joan retorts angrily.

“How did I do that?” Hank questions, a bit perplexed.

“You were knocking over chairs and tables and sending coffee flying everywhere,” Joan spits out.

“I do admit that in my haste to assist Miss Simon that I may have upset my chair and the table, but I would hardly call that ‘wrecking the place’,” Hank states. “However, I will gladly pay for the damages that I may have incurred.”

“Are you the manager?” Shaffer asks the woman, distracting her from Hank for a moment.

“And the owner,” Joan tells him huffily.

“We need to see the security tape for that back hallway,” Shaffer replies.

“What for?” Joan asks.

“There was an altercation back there but we’re getting mixed reports,” Shaffer answers. “We need to see the tape to see who the culprit really is.”

“Is this more important than some freak trying to smash up my place?” Joan demands.

“Yes, I believe it is,” Shaffer answers.

Joan just glares at Hank for a moment before turning and disappearing into the back of the store. While they stand there waiting, Amanda’s attacker tries inching his way towards freedom but suddenly comes face to face with a very displeased blue furry mutant. Before anything happens, Joan returns with a VHS tape in her hand and hands it over to Shaffer.

“Is there someplace we can view this?” Shaffer asks.

“Yeah, there’s TV and player in the break room,” Joan answers,

Still not looking happy, she takes them back down the hall past the bathrooms and Amanda can see that there’s an exit out the back at the end of the corridor. Before they reach that door, Joan leads them into a small room with a rickety looking table, a few wobbly chairs, a beat up looking couch, an ancient microwave and an old TV with a VCR that looks like it’s one of the original models. They all crowd into the tiny room and Joan goes to the TV and turns the thing on. She retrieves the tape from Shaffer, sticks it in the machine, rewinds the tape and then they watch the assault on Amanda. When they get to the part where Amanda hits the man in the groin, all of the men wince.

It takes every ounce of control Hank possesses to keep The Beast from emerging and ripping this guy limb from limb. After watching the tape, the two officers turn to face the man who tries to make a break for it only to find a mass of snarling angry blue fur standing in his way. Luckily for the man, McDuff and Shaffer get to him before Hank can turn him into lunch meat and The Beast roars in frustration.

“Do you want to press charges?” Shaffer asks Amanda.

“Yes,” Amanda replies.

“Then I’ll need you both to come down to the station to give your statements, if you don’t mind,” Shaffer states as he gets the tape and McDuff reads the attacker his rights.

“Very well,” Amanda agrees before turning to go

“Of course,” Hank adds as the officers start to drag the man out of the small room

“Aren’t you going to arrest him?” Joan demands, pointing at Hank again.

“Ma’am, was anything really damaged or are you just taking your prejudice against mutant kind out on one mutant who knocked over a table and chair and spilled a couple of cups of coffee?” Shaffer questions.

“You saw the mess,” Joan nearly yells.

“We saw a table and a chair on the floor and a lot of coffee spilled, but I didn’t see anything that was irreparably damaged,” Shaffer replies.

“But…but…,” Joan stammers.

“Ma’am, I have better things to do than deal with your personal prejudices,” Shaffer tells her. “Now, unless you have actual proof that Ambassador McCoy did serious damage to your shop, I suggest you just drop it.”

Joan stands there with her mouth hanging open as Shaffer marches past her with McDuff pushing their prisoner in front of him. Hank and Amanda quietly follow in their wake, stepping out of the shop to full on night and a cold wind that quickly chills them to the bone. As luck would have it, the officer’s cruiser is parked only a couple of spaces away and Hank opens the passenger door for Amanda. A few moments later, he’s sliding behind the wheel and turning the engine over to get the car warmed up. When he looks over at Amanda, the only light available is what’s coming through the shop’s windows, but it’s enough for him to see her stony expression.

“Are you alright?” he asks in concern.

“I’m fine, thank you,” she answers in a monotone voice.

“Amanda?” he questions worriedly causing her to close her eyes and sigh.

“Trust me, Hank,” she quietly replies.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he inquires.

“When this is all over, we’ll talk, but for now, please leave me be,” she softly requests.

“If that’s what you want, than I shall abide by your wishes,” he replies.

“Thank you,” she whispers and they sit in silence as they wait for Shaffer and McDuff to lead them to the police station.