Eye of the Beholder

Author’s Notes: Thank you Mistic Monk, onewing, Vixey, amh, Christina, blue_lioness and Arden Skysender for your reviews. So, my muse has been flooding my brain with ideas of upcoming chapters and I decided to jot them down. This story is going to be looooooooong and in fact it looks like there’s going to be at least a three story arc, possibly four if I break this story into two pieces. We’ll have to wait and see, but the good news is that there’s going to be lots of Hank and Amanda goodness in everyone’s future. At any rate, please enjoy the latest installment of frustration.

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“What was that?” he asks as a frown wrinkles his forehead and she lets her face drop to his shoulder with a groan of frustration.

“That was my soon to be dearly departed best friend,” she growls, her voice slightly muffled by her face being buried into his jacket.

His frown deepens as he stares at the side of her head for a moment before looking around. It takes him only a second to spot the man she had had dinner with the previous week standing only a short distance away. The tall, thin man’s light blue eyes are about the size of saucers and he has both hands over his mouth which he drops slightly when he notices Hank looking at him.

“Oh, I’m not here, you don’t see me, just go back to what you were doing,” the man instructs in a high strung and fast voice and then he gives out another strangled squeak before covering his mouth again.

“Amanda, there’s a man here telling me he’s invisible,” Hank quietly whispers in her ear and she can feel goose bumps forming all over her body.

“When I’m done with him, he’ll wish he was indestructible too,” she grumbles as she finally lifts her head up to look at Hank and sees him trying not to smile. “This is not funny.”

“I’m as frustrated as you are, my dear, but I don’t think beating up your best friend is going to solve anything,” he softly chuckles.

“I’m not going to beat him up,” she corrects. “I’m going to kill him.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t,” he replies, barely containing the smile threatening to escape. “I don’t really feel like visiting another police station tonight. Plus I’d then have to bail you out and then have to explain to the media why you were arrested and then I would have to explain to your mother why I was the one baling you out and then your dad would go get his shotgun and demand to know what my intentions with you are. It won’t be pretty.”

“Well, when you put it that way…,” she snickers and they stand there smiling at each other, both completely forgetting Doug is standing only a few feet away.

“Well, I guess I should get going home,” he says quietly couple of minutes later.

“Yeah, I should get in out of the cold,” she softly replies.

They continue to stare at each other, neither one willing to be the one to move first.

“Oh for god’s sake, just kiss the woman and be done with it,” Doug cries in exasperation.

Hank glares at the other man just as Amanda presses her body against his, wraps her arms around his waist and kisses him on the cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispers in his ear. “For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” he softy responds as his arms tighten around her and he buries his face in her hair.

For a brief moment in time, the world stands still and nothing else matters but listening to each other breathe. They gladly stand there in the freezing cold as she leans her face against the soft fur on his neck and he lets out a contented sigh. Neither one seems interested in moving until she feels someone messing with her purse. She instinctively reacts, yanking the bag out of the would be thief’s hands only to find Doug standing there.

“What are you doing?” she demands.

“Listen, if you two want to stand out here and freeze your butts off that’s fine with me, but I’m going in where it’s warm,” Doug answers in a huff as he tries to pull her purse back towards himself and then he sees her face. “Oh my god, what happened to your eye?”

“I got hit with a Frisbee,” she tells him as she tries to slap his hand away. “Let go of my purse, Doug.”

“That’s going to take about a gallon of concealer to hide that shiner,” Doug blurts out, refusing to let go of her bag.

“Thanks a lot,” she growls as she attempts to pull her handbag from her friend. “Now let go.”

“I’m freezing,” Doug whines while hanging on. “Just let me go inside and then you two can do whatever you want. Hug, kiss, have hot wild animal sex, I don’t care, but I’m freezing.”

“I believe the lady asked you to let go,” Hank says in his deep voice with a hint of danger in it, sending chills up and down her spine.

He reaches out and pinches Doug’s wrist between his thumb and forefinger and looking for all the world like he’s barely touching Doug. Doug lets out a little whimper as his hand goes completely numb and he has no choice but to let go of Amanda’s handbag. After the bag is safely out of reach, Hank finally lets go and Doug immediately starts rubbing his wrist, flexing his fingers and shaking his hand to get feeling back in it.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” Hank says congenially as he holds out the hand that was just pinching Doug’s wrist. “I’m Hank McCoy. Sorry about the wrist.”

“Doug Jacobson,” Doug replies and hesitantly shakes Hank’s hand. “Don’t worry about the hand. I’m sure I’ll get feeling back in it someday.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Hank smiles as he gives a gentle, but firm handshake. “Amanda has told me quite a bit about you.”

“Hopefully nothing that could be used against me in a court of law,” Doug jokes.

“I refuse to answer that on the grounds that she may never go out with me again,” Hank chuckles.

“Again?” Doug asks, turning towards Amanda with his eyebrows threatening to merge with his hairline. “Oh, sugar, you’re going to have to tell me everything.”

“Don’t hold your breath, buster,” she growls. “Be glad I don’t drop kick your skinny little butt down the street. What are you doing here anyways?”

“I was just checking to see if you had made it home alright,” Doug answers, pretending to get huffy. “And this is the thanks I get for being a concerned friend.”

“Yeah, right,” she snorts. “You’re just trying to mooch one of my sundaes off of me.”

“Ok, there was that too,” Doug admits, not looking the least bit ashamed. “But I was a bit concerned. I haven’t heard from you since early this afternoon and you should have been home hours ago and do you even think to call me and let me know you’re alright? Noooo, you just let me worry away. After all it’s no big deal if you turn my hair gray umph.”

“Are you sure I can’t kill him?” she asks Hank, her hand over Doug’s mouth.

“I’m sure,” Hank replies, a smile tugging on his lips.

“Can I at least rough him up a bit?” she questions.

“Only if you don’t leave any marks that can be used as evidence,” Hank answers.

“I guess that just leaves mental anguish,” she sighs.

“What exactly would that entail?” Hank inquires, an eyebrow rising higher than its brother as she leans in close to him.

“I won’t tell him what we did this weekend,” she whispers in his ear and it takes every ounce of will power to keep his all of his available blood heading south.

“Wait! What did you just tell him?” Doug demands after pulling her hand away from his mouth.

“That might be construed a cruel and unusual punishment,” Hank points out as she grins evilly.

“Prove it in a court of law,” she snickers as she steps back and leans over to retrieve her bags.

“What did she say?” Doug begs of Hank who pays the other man no mind.

“Then I guess I shall bid you goodnight,” Hank tells her as he takes one of her hands in his while she straightens up. "Good Night, Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow."

“Oh, how sweet,” Doug sighs as Hank kisses the back of Amanda’s hand and she can feel her blood rushing to all sorts of interesting places. “What’s that from?”

“Romeo and Juliet,” Hank answers without ever taking his eyes off of Amanda’s face.

“How romantic,” Doug gushes at Amanda. “He’s quoting Shakespeare to you…from a play…where the main characters…kill themselves.”

“Goodnight, Hank,” she says with a smile, ignoring Doug for the time being. “Thanks again, for everything.”

“It was my pleasure,” Hank replies, smiling back at her.

They continue standing there staring at each other while Doug watches them until the frustration gets to him.

“Of for crying out loud, just kiss her and then we can all go inside and get warm,” Doug practically yells and the other two turn and glare at him. “Uh oh.”

“Maybe I should help you dispose of the body,” Hank suggests as he calmly reaches out and grabs the back of the collar of a desperately retreating Doug.

“As tempting an offer as that is, I think I’ll just stick with the mental anguish plan,” she replies as her hand replaces Hank’s and she gives Hank a quick peck on the cheek. “Goodnight, Hank.”

“Goodnight, my dear,” Hank responds as he gives her a kiss on the forehead and then starts to slowly head back to his car.

“Can’t breathe,” Doug gasps as Amanda drags him towards the front door of her apartment building.

“Good, then you can’t make a bigger ass out of yourself,” she snaps while they go through the door.

Hank stops and watches them for a moment through the glass as she drags him to a bank of elevators and pushes the call button. Even his hearing isn’t good enough to hear what they’re saying at this distance, but he can guess that Doug’s getting an ear full. With a quiet chuckle, he turns back towards his car and starts walking again.

Mate, The Beast growls. Mine.

“Let’s hope that someday that will be true,” Hank quietly tells it as he gets behind the wheel and then heads home.

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“I hope you’re happy,” she snarls as she drags Doug backwards through the lobby while the guard briefly looks up before going back to his comic book.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Amanda, you’re overreacting,” he grumbles as he undoes the zipper of his jacket for what little good it does him since she has hold of the back of his shirt as well.

“You haven’t even begun to see me overreact,” she snaps as the elevator ‘dings’ its arrival and she shoves him into the small box.

“Jeez, woman, calm down,” he gripes as he hastily readjusts his clothing after she releases him. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“What do you think?” she demands.

“Alright, I’m sorry I ruined your goodnight kiss, sheesh,” he grouses as he brushes imaginary dust off of his sleeve.

“It wasn’t just any kiss you interrupted,” she hisses as she backs him against a wall and jabs her finger into his chest, punctuating each word with a poke. “It was supposed to be our first kiss.”

“Oops,” he cringes.

“To say the least,” she growls as the elevator reaches her floor.

“Oh, sugar, I’m sorry,” he calls as she storms down the corridor to her apartment. “I had no idea.”

“Obviously,” she snaps back as she fishes her keys out of her bag.

“Wow, you’ve never been this ticked about not getting a kiss before,” he observes as he quickly slips into her apartment before she slams the door in his face.

“I know and it’s got me worried,” she admits as she heads for her bedroom with him on her heels.

“How so?” he asks as she drops her bags on her bed.

“I’ve never, ever wanted a guy to touch me so bad in my life,” she admits while she plops down on the bed next to the bags. “What’s wrong with me? I’m not usually this psycho about a guy.”

“You’re in love,” Doug states as he unzips her overnight bag. “Did you bring me anything?”

“What are you, five?” she teases as she slaps his hands away and gets back up. “I went to upstate New York, not the Bahamas. And I can’t be in love, in lust is more like it.”

“Why can’t you be in love?” he asks while she starts to unpack.

“I’ve only known him a week,” she points out as she goes to dump her dirty clothes in the hamper. “Hardly a steady foundation to build a relationship on.”

“Hey, woah, where did this come from?” Doug demands as he grabs her new dress out of the pile headed for the hamper.

“I bought it while on my trip,” she answers as dumps the rest of her clothes into the wicker basket.

“And why would you need to go and buy a little black dress while on a visit to a teenage friend?” he questions, a teasing note in his voice. “A girl friend, I might add. And how is it that Ambassador Hank McCoy drove you home?”

“Hank was up at the mansion visiting when I got hit by the Frisbee and since my eye is nearly swollen shut, he offered to drive me home,” she replies as she holds her hand out. “Give it back now please.”

“Did you wear it?” he inquires, dancing around the room, holding the dress by its straps just out of her reach.

“Yes, but I’m not going to tell you why or when or where,” she responds, her hands planting themselves on her hips.

“WHAT!?” he shrieks as he freezes in place in shock. “But…but…but…”

“It’s late and I’m tired,” she tells him as she retrieves her dress from him. “Goodnight, Doug.”

“But details,” he whines. “I need details.”

“Not going to happen,” she points out as she turns him around and pushes him out of her room.

“This is for interrupting your kiss isn’t it?” he pouts while she shoves him to the front door.

“Got it right in one,” she replies as she opens the door and pushes him out into the hallway. “Goodnight, Doug.”

Before he can respond, the door is shut and locked in his face. He huffs, crosses his arms over his chest and glares at the portal, waiting for her to open back up. Ten minutes later, he finally gets the hint and goes home while she climbs into bed and tries not to think about the things she’d like a certain blue, furry man to do to her.

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“Morning, Betty,” Amanda greets as she steps through the door the next morning.

“Morning,” Betty replies without looking up from her newspaper. “So, you planning on making this a habit?”

“Making what a habit?” Amanda asks in confusion.

“This,” Betty states as she holds up the newspaper to show pictures of Hank and Amanda dancing on their date.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Amanda moans as she steps up to the receptionist’s desk.

“You can have it if you want,” Betty offers. “I’m done reading it, but you have to answer one question first.”

“What’s that?” Amanda asks.

“How did you find out Mr. Tight Pants goes commando?” Betty demands.

“One of the girls at Serena’s school decided to play a practical joke involving his underwear and discovered that he doesn’t have any,” Amanda answers as she takes the paper and starts to head for her desk. “God, I hope my parents never see this.”

“What happened to your eye?” Betty asks in concern.

“Frisbee,” Amanda distractedly replies as she heads for her office, reading the captions below the pictures.

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In Boston a coffee cup shatters against a wall, sending coffee and ceramic shards everywhere. A man with a giant green and purple bruise on his face tears up a section of newspaper in a pique of rage. As soon as he’s got his anger under control, he’s on the phone to his lawyer.

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Several hours later a distinguished gentleman sits down to his morning cup of tea and a scone and opens the newspaper. Several pages in, he finds pictures of a certain Ambassador dancing and having dinner with a certain Sapien lawyer and rather sinister smile stretches his lips.

“How delightful,” the man chuckles low in his throat.