Eye of the Beholder

Author’s Notes: A big THANK YOU to blue_lioness for the review. For you, here’s chapter 3. Don’t worry, there will be more Hank goodness coming. Chapter 4 is done and all you need to do is leave a review.

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The ‘ding’ of the elevator barely makes an impression on Amanda’s tired brain and it’s not until the doors open does she realize that she’s on her floor. She drags herself down the hall to her apartment and unlocks the door with a sigh of relief. It’s been a long, but satisfying day and she smiles to herself.

Not only did she win a case everyone was sure would get a guilty verdict, but she has three new clients because of it. She smirks to herself on Mr. Steele’s reaction when he found out that they had more clients coming in then leaving. The man may be a genius in the courtroom, but he is an absolute jerk of a human being.

She drops her heels that’s she’s been carrying since she stepped into the apartment building in the foyer and takes the last few steps into the living room. An all too familiar muffled sound assaults her ears as soon as she steps into the room and she groans as she rolls her eyes. It seems Bobbi has made another conquest and is currently enjoying the fruits of her labor if the grunts, squeals and moans are anything to go by.

“Wonder how many she’s got in there this time,” Amanda mutters as she heads for the kitchen.

After dropping her purse and briefcase on one of the kitchen chairs, she shrugs out of her suit jacket and then pulls out the pins holding her hair in the tight bun at the nape of her neck. After getting a bit more comfortable, she roots around in the freezer, going past the half gallon of store brand ice cream and frozen dinners until her fingers find what she’s looking for. She pulls out the pint sized carton of premium ice cream that she hides from her roommate, grabs a spoon from the drawer and then heads back into the living room to watch the late night news before heading to bed. However, instead of some relaxation time with the TV, she gets a rather nasty shock.

Her boyfriend is just coming out of the Bobbi’s bedroom with his shirt completely unbuttoned, barefooted and the snap on his pants undone. There’s a fine sheen of sweat covering his body and his hair is completely mussed. To add to the insult, Bobbi’s lipstick is smeared across his face and neck. The instant he sees Amanda he stops dead in his tracks and stares at her, frozen to the spot. She can practically hear the gears in his head as he tries to find an excuse for what he’s obviously been doing.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” he starts, panic evident in his voice.

“Oh really?” she questions calmly, instantly dropping into lawyer mode. “Then please explain exactly what it is, Jeffery.”

He starts to try and explain but then he makes a fatal error and looks her in the eye. She’s staring at him with a look that she’s developed over the years. It’s the look that makes unwilling and hostile witnesses squirm on the stand and she’s not pulling any punches with her own ‘boyfriend.’ So instead of words coming out of his mouth, he makes a strangled squeaking noise and then he just opens and shuts his mouth like a fish out of water.

“Jeffie, honey, you forgot your undies in my room again,” Bobbi announces as she bounces out of her room in nothing more than a bathrobe that would have problems properly covering a Barbie doll. “Oh, Mandy, your home. Ooh, Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food, my favorite. Did you just pick it up? I would love some.”

“This isn’t what it looks like?” Amanda asks in a soft dangerous tone, returning her ‘lawyer stare’ back on the hapless male standing in her living room. “I think it’s exactly what it looks like, Jeffery.”

“Yeah, well, if you didn’t have your knees bolted together then maybe this wouldn’t have happened,” he accuses as he starts to button up his shirt, refusing to look her in the eye this time.

“Jeff, we have only been dating a couple of months,” Amanda reminds him as Bobbi jiggles her way past the lawyer to get into the kitchen. “I personally feel that is way too soon to start a physical relationship. You knew that when we started dating and you agreed to wait. Though, I do find it interesting that you said that this ‘maybe’ wouldn’t have happened if I had slept with you. This indicates to me that you had no intention of having a serious relationship.”

“Well, what did you expect me to do?” he demands as he hastily tucks his shirt into his pants. “You’ve got this hot babe as a roommate and you’re little Miss Prissy not even letting me get a glimpse at your goods. What’s a guy to do?”

“Learn a little self control and keep it in his pants?” Amanda suggests as Bobbi returns with a large soup bowl and a spoon. “I think you need to leave now.”

“Fine with me,” he snaps as he starts to look around for his shoes. “I’m not sure what I saw in you anyways.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Amanda sighs as she holds the ice cream out of Bobbi’s reach.

“Share,” Bobbie whines and Amanda looks down at the much shorter woman who’s trying to reach for the carton and not caring that her robe is wide open.

From what male friends have told her, the only reason guys ever go out with Bobbi is because she’s got great legs, huge tits and she puts out. It sure isn’t for the woman’s conversational skills or wit and her personality leaves a great deal to be desired. She’s essentially a spoiled six year old trapped in a horney young woman’s body. Amanda is fairly sure that if she looked up ‘blond bimbo’ in the dictionary, Bobbi’s picture would be next to it.

“Bobbi, go get dressed and then pack your things,” Amanda instructs.

“Why?” Bobbi asks, momentarily distracted from the chocolate, caramel and marshmallow treat.

“Because you’re going to go live with Jeff now,” Amanda tells her.

“Really!?” Bobbi shrieks with glee.

“WHAT!? Jeff shrieks with horror at the same time, whirling around to face the women.

“Oh, Jeffie, honey that’s wonderful!” Bobbi exclaims as she quickly heads for her room. “I’ll be out in just a minute. I just need a few things.”

“Listen, bitch, I’m not taking her with me,” he snarls as he stalks towards Amanda.

“You wanted her ass, now you get the rest of the package too,” Amanda smirks. “You two can come back tomorrow to get the rest of her things, but after that, I don’t ever want to see either one of you again.”

“You can’t do this,” he nearly yells.

“Funny, it looks like I just did,” she chuckles.

“I’ll just leave without her,” he retorts.

“I’ll put her in a cab and have them drop her off on your front doorstep and I’m sure your neighbors will just love you when she wakes them all up trying to find which apartment is yours,” she calmly replies.

“You’re a bitch,” he snarls.

“And I’m not even warmed up yet,” she replies smugly as she turns to go back into the kitchen.

“Don’t you have to give her some type of notice or something?” he asks as he follows her. “You can’t kick her out without giving her back the rent she’s paid for next month. What about the lease agreement?”

“The lease is in my name and she hasn’t paid rent for three months,” she responds as she drags one of the kitchen chairs over to the pantry. “I’ve been looking for a way to get rid of her for quite some time. This works out perfectly.”

“For you maybe,” he growls as she gets up on the chair and reaches towards the back of the top shelf.

“Well, yeah,” she snorts as she pulls out a box of Twinkies while he sits in another chair and starts to put his shoes on. “Look at it this way, now you won’t have to come all the way over here to get laid. She’ll be waiting for you with her legs spread the instant you walk in the door every evening.”

“I’ll get you for this, Mandy,” he hisses, emphasizing her hated nickname.

“Get in line,” she laughs as Bobbi comes bounding into the room, finally dressed and with an overnight bag over her shoulder.

“Ooh, we have Twinkies too!?” Bobbie excitedly exclaims.

“No, I have Twinkies,” Amanda replies as she gets a bowl out of the cupboard. “You’re leaving, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Bobbi nods, remembering after a few moments.

“That everything?” Jeff asks pointing to the bag over her shoulder and Amanda chokes down her laughter.

“Oh, no, this is just my makeup bag,” Bobbi tells him, her flowing blond mane bouncing around her shoulders and Amanda silently wonders if it’s possible for this woman to do anything without jiggling some part of her anatomy. “The rest of my bags are by the front door. Would you be a sweetie and carry them for me please?”

She bats her long lashes at him and gives him big, blue puppy dog eyes while she ever so subtly brings her arms partially across her front causing her breasts to become more prominent. Isn’t it convenient that they’re at his eye level? Jeff doesn’t notice what she’s doing though Amanda catches it in an instant; he just stares at those two monster orbs for several seconds as the blood in his brain travels south. Maybe Bobbi isn’t as dumb as she looks. She sure knows how to play men like a fiddle.

“Yeah, sure I’ll carry your bags,” he mumbles as if he’s hypnotized and Amanda half expects him to say ‘master’.

“Thank you, sweet-pea,” she gushes as she turns and bounces out of the room and he follows her in a daze until he gets near the front door.

“Holy crap, woman, how many bags are there!?” he shouts and it’s all Amanda can do to keep from collapsing in a fit of laughter.

“It’s just a few bags, Jeffie,” Bobbie wheedles. “I’m sure a big strong man such as you can manage to carry my little old bags down to the car.”

“Fine, whatever,” Jeff grumbles as he starts to pick up the bags.

Amanda clings to the kitchen counter as she silently laughs at these two. She can’t think of two people who more deserve each other than them. There’s quite a bit of banging and cursing going on in the foyer and it’s all Amanda can do to keep from falling on the floor in gales of laughter. Then a thought occurs to her and she quickly makes her way towards the front door.

“Bobbi, I need your keys to the apartment,” Amanda states.

“Why?” Bobbi asks, truly perplexed.

“Because you’re going to go live with Jeff now and you don’t need them any more,” Amanda explains.

“Oh, ok,” Bobbi agrees and starts to dig around in her purse, finally pulling them out a moment later. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Amanda says and looks over at Jeff who’s struggling to get four huge bags out the door. “Have a good night.”

He gives her a death glare before he goes back to wrestling these monstrosities out the door. It takes him several minutes, but he finally does get them out the door and down the hall to the elevator. Amanda wonders if she should mention that chances are pretty small that they’ll be able to get the bags and themselves into that puny little elevator.

“Nah,” she decides and heads back to the kitchen.

She unwraps a Twinkie and then dumps it into the bowl that’s waiting for her. She scoops out a couple of chunks of ice cream on top of it and then takes her Twinkie sundae and heads for the family room. She plops down on the couch and turns on the TV to watch the evening news.

By the time she’s done with her sundae she’s no longer paying attention to the news and is lost in thought. She thinks about all of the past relationships she’s had and it’s a pretty miserable score card. She dated a bit in law school, but she found it affected her grades so she had stopped doing it. After she past the bar exams and got a job it seemed that finding romance wouldn’t be that hard.

However, it seems man after man in her life either was intimidated by an intelligent, strong willed woman or they just wanted sex. She just couldn’t bring herself to throw away her morals in her personal life any more than she could throw them away in her professional, but that’s what men seemed to expect. With an exasperated sigh, she lays her head on the back of the couch and stares at the ceiling for a while.

“Ok, here’s the deal, God,” she says to the universe. “I want a man that is nice and kind and gentle and loves me for who I am and treats me with respect and I promise you I’ll…really think about having a kid. Deal?”

There’s no answer and she lets out another sigh a minute later.

“Figures,” she mutters as she gets off the couch, turns off the TV and heads for bed. “God must be a man. He’s afraid of a commitment.”

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With a tired groan, Ambassador Hank McCoy closes the door to his apartment and then leans against the wall. After about a minute of standing there, he reaches down and unties his shoes before kicking them off. He wiggles his toes for a few moments with a sigh of relief before pushing himself off of the wall and heading towards the kitchen, casually tossing his suit jacket over the arm of the couch on his way.

What was I thinking? he thinks to himself as he pulls a box of Twinkies out of the cupboard. I was thinking I could do some good in this world. *sigh* Now, instead of helping my fellow mutants, I’m stuck in committee meetings all day talking to people who refuse to listen. Sometimes I think I’d be better off talking to a brick wall than these people. Why can’t they see that mutants aren’t just going to go away? *sigh* Oh well, at least it’s the weekend and I won’t have to deal with these idiots until Monday.

With that last thought, he stuffs a couple Twinkies in his mouth, tosses out the wrappers and then decides to go to bed. He heads towards his bedroom slowly stripping as he goes, dropping bits and pieces of clothes as he makes his way down the hallway like shed hair all the while never letting go of the scrap of paper clutched in his hand. He steps out of his pants as he gets into the bedroom and then sits on his bed to take off his socks.

He stretches his toes as he examines his socks and with a tired sigh, he tosses them into the trash. Despite constantly trying to keep his toenails trimmed, they always seem to shred his socks. He climbs under the covers with a moan of relief and he can finally start to relax.

Before turning off the light he takes another look at the small piece of paper his assistant gave him when he had gotten out of his meeting. It brings a smile to his face and returns hope to his heart to know that there are people out there willing to give mutants a chance. He ignores the phone numbers on the bottom for now and instead stares at the two words written across the top in his assistant’s hand writing.

NOT GUILTY

A quick look at the clock on his nightstand confirms that a congratulatory phone call would not be welcomed at this time of night. After carefully putting the paper on the nightstand, he turns off the light and rolls over onto his side with a sigh of contentment. Within minutes, his soft snores fill the room.

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Amanda sits on the couch with her legs tucked underneath her, the late morning sun streaming through her window and she can hear the cars down on the street below through the open window as she prays for a small breeze to help cool off the already warm apartment. She wonders if she can a good deal on a window air conditioner in late September as she goes over her notes that she took over the phone the day before while talking to one of her new clients. There are a couple of law books lying open on the coffee table and next to her on the couch as she chews on the end of her pen, frowning at the note pad in front of her when the phone rings which she automatically picks up.

“Forget it, Jeff, I’m not taking her back,” she says into the mouth piece. “You wanted her, you got her.”

With that, she hangs up the phone for quite possibly the twentieth time this morning. She chuckles to herself as she remembers the first call with him begging her to take Bobbi back and the little bimbo in the background whining for him to come back to bed. It seems he doesn’t like having a nymphomaniac for a bedmate since she constantly wants sex and now he’s all tuckered out from having to perform and lack of sleep.

“That’ll teach him not to keep it in his pants,” she snickers.

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Hank sits and stares at his phone with a frown on his face.

“She hung up on me,” he tells the device. “Though I’m most curious as to whom this Jeff character is.”

Picking up the handset, he dials again and the other end is picked up a moment later.

“This isn’t Jeff!” he calls out quickly. “Please don’t hang up!”

“Um, hello?” a woman’s voice queries.

“Is this Amanda Simon?” he asks.

“Yes,” Amanda answers. “Doug, is that you?”

“No, this isn’t Doug,” he replies, glad that she didn’t immediately hang up on him this time. “This is Ambassador Hank McCoy.”

“Good one, Brian,” she chuckles. “I’ve got to admit that you’ve got McCoy’s voice down pretty good. Though I think you’ve got him sounding a bit snootier than he sounds on TV. Keep working on it though.”

Before he can get over his shock, there’s a click and he realizes she’s hung up on him again. He puts the handset back down in the cradle and goes back to looking at the phone, this time with an amused look on his face. Figuring that the third time is a charm, he calls her again only to get a busy tone.

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“This is insane,” she mutters as she takes the phone off the hook. “I’m never going to get any work done at this rate.”

She gets up and gets her shoes on before grabbing her note pad and stuffing it into her briefcase. Once she’s ready to go, she puts the phone back in the cradle. As she’s shutting the door, she hears the phone ring again and she gladly closes the door. She locks up the apartment and then takes off to the library to get some work done and to escape the quickly rising heat of the day.