Eye of the Beholder

Author’s Notes: Thank you blue_lioness, onewing, Arden and amh for your reviews. I have one other story on this site that I’m currently working on called Beauty and The Beast Within over on the Hellboy section under ‘Movies’. My other stories can be found on www(DOT)fanfiction(DOT)net under the same screen name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She tries to shake some feeling back into her fingers as she warms her hand in front of the space heater next to her. She rolls her shoulders to relieve the cramping and attempts to find a more comfortable sitting position on the small stack of moth eaten blankets she was able to find. Once her fingers are sufficiently heated, she picks her pencil back up and starts drawing again.

She concentrates on getting the shape of her nephew’s nose just right, ignoring the urge to look back at her drawings of a certain blue and furry ambassador. She pays no mind to her fingers getting cold again or the fact that her butt is going numb from sitting with little between her and the cold, hard floorboards. She doesn’t care about her discomfort or the loneliness or even the fact that the camping lamp’s battery will eventually die, all she cares about is regaining some of her sanity by hiding from those loonies she calls a family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An errant draft blows out the candle again and with a resigned sigh, he puts down his book on the floor below him. He’s lost count of how many times he’s relit this candle and granted having an open flame in the old drafty barn may not be the best place to bring it, but he doesn’t dare turn on the electric lights since that would instantly tell people where he’s wandered off to.

“Face it, man, you’re hiding from them,” he growls at himself as he hangs there in the cold and dark. “You can take on Magneto himself, you can out think and out debate any politician you meet, but you can’t face your own family. What would she think of you?”

He quickly finds the lighter sitting next to the candle and relights it, thankful that the rafters above the hay loft of the barn are low enough for him to do this. He glances over at his cell phone, lying there next to the candle and the desire to just hear her voice starts to get to him again. It’s been nearly a week since he’s talked to her and that was only to wish her a safe trip. He hangs there upside down from the rafters staring at his phone, wondering how much of a problem it would be if he did call her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She stretches to relieve the kinks all over her body and to get some blood flowing through her limbs again. She gives out a groan of relief as she arches her back and several of the vertebrae pop and she can feel some of the knots in her back easing. With a sigh, she picks her pencil back up, but before she can put it to paper her phone rings causing her to just about jumps out of her skin. She quickly fishes it out of her pocket and answers it, not bothering to notice the phone number on the ID.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Amanda, hi,” says a very familiar voice.

“Hank? Oh my god, how are you?” she asks. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be having Thanksgiving with your family?”

“Well, yes, but dinner isn’t for another hour yet,” he tells her.

“So, why aren’t you spending time with them?” she inquires.

“I’m actually surprised that you answered your phone,” he suddenly states. “I would have thought your mother would have confiscated it by now.”

“With nearly forty people in the house, my mother is happy to be able to tell you which way is up and get it right,” she replies. “Now, sir, kindly answer my question.”

“So, how is your crazy family doing?” he asks in a congenial tone.

“You are so not turning this around on me, mister,” she warns. “I’m not saying another word until you answer my question.”

“That’s being a bit childish, don’t you think?” he questions.

Silence.

“Amanda?”

He can hear her breathing, but still she says nothing.

“You’re serious about this aren’t you?”

After about a minute of dead quiet, he caves.

“I’m hiding in the barn avoiding my family and I called because I wanted to hear your voice,” he finally admits quickly and he can feel the skin on his face warming up.

“You wanted to hear my voice?” she asks in surprise. “Oh, Hank, that’s so sweet. And you want to know something?”

“What?” he questions, feeling like a school boy.

“I’m hiding in my parent’s barn avoiding my family, too,” she embarrassingly admits.

He laughs so hard that he loses hold of the rafter he’s hanging from and falls down onto the floor, neatly somersaulting into a sitting position.

“What was that thump?” she inquires worriedly.

“Oh, um, I just, um, well, I fell out of the rafters,” he admits.

“What in the world were you doing in the rafters?” she asks.

“Oh, just hanging around,” he tells her with an unseen shrug.

“What, like a bat?” she teases.

“Essentially, yes,” he answers.

“Great, my boyfriend is hanging in the rafters like a giant, blue furry bat,” she chuckles as she shakes her head.

“Boyfriend?” he whispers in shock.

“Well, aren’t you?” she asks worriedly, thinking that she’s read his signals wrong.

“My dear, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to be your beau,” he hastily answers, a feeling of absolute joy filling him.

“Oh, good,” she sighs with relief.

“So, now are you going to answer my question?” he inquires.

“What question was that?” she responds.

“How is your crazy family doing?” he repeats.

“Loony as ever,” she answers.

“How so?” he questions as he gets comfortable.

“Well, now that I’m thirty, the women in my family are about frothing at the mouth that I haven’t married and started popping babies out like I’m some sort of machine,” she replies. “I swear if I hear any more about the joys of motherhood from the cousin who’s making babies almost as fast as a rabbit, I’m going to stuff a dirty diaper up her nose. Heaven knows I’ll have my pick since she’s got three kids in them and there are a couple of other kids here that are also in the hideous things.”

“That include your pagan cousin?” he asks, loving the insanity of her family.

“Not yet,” she tells him. “She’s six months along and she’s not sure who the father is. It could be her husband or it could be one of her boyfriends. She’s not sure.”

“Did she bring one of her boyfriends this time?” he inquires.

“No, she brought one of their girlfriends instead,” she responds. “I’ve taken to wearing earplugs at night.”

“I so want to meet your family,” he chuckles and he’s pretty sure he can hear her growling at the other end of the line. “Well at least you get to give your nieces and nephew enough sugar to send them into diabetic comas before sending them home.”

“No, I don’t,” she grumbles. “It seems my dear sister got wind of our pictures being on the internet. Since dear old Mom only goes on the computer to keep her recipes in order and to check and send email, she hasn’t seen them yet. My darling sister walked into the house earlier today, dragged me off to the side and threatened to show Mom the pictures she had printed up off the web if I so much as feed a single grain of sugar to her kids.”

“Now that’s just cruel,” he commiserates.

“Tell me about it,” she nearly growls. “If she wasn’t my sister, I’d sue her for mental anguish.”

“You know, she’d probably say the same thing,” he points out.

“You’re not helping,” she snarls.

“Sorry,” he says, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.

“So, how’s your family?” she asks.

“Cranky as ever,” he answers. “Unlike your mother, mine has more than a passing knowledge of the internet and has seen the pictures.”

“Oh dear,” she moans in commiseration.

“She wants to know if you’ll be coming out for Easter,” he tells her. “I’m not sure how to answer that yet.”

“Why not Christmas?” she inquires, sounding slightly hysterical.

“She and Dad will be in Hawaii for a month as their annual Anniversary-Christmas present to each other,” he replies.

“Nice,” she says, wishing a tropical breeze would blow through the old barn.

“Very,” he agrees. “So how about it? Would you like to come to my parents’ for Easter?”

“Oh…um…well…uh…”

“THERE YOU ARE!”

“SWEET MARY, JOSEPH AND JESUS!” Amanda shouts as she tries to catch the phone she accidentally threw into the air and Hank listens from his end with much amusement. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack, Annie!?”

“You need to have a heart before you can have an attack,” Annie snarls at her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Amanda demands.

“It means I’ve spent the past fifteen minutes freezing my backside off looking for you,” Annie growls.

“Ok, you’ve found me,” Amanda states. “What do you want?”

“Dinner’s getting cold,” Annie tells her and then spots the phone in her sister’s hands. “Who are you talking to?”

“Here, say ‘hi’,” Amanda instructs as she hands the phone over before standing up.

“Um, hi?” Annie nervously says.

“Hello, Annie,” a rich, cultured man’s voice responds while Amanda puts her art supplies away. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Annie replies, still a bit jumpy. “And you?”

“I’m doing very well, thank you,” the man responds and Annie puts her hand over the mouth piece.

“Who am I talking to?” she demands in a fierce whisper as Amanda turns off the space heater.

“Only the US Ambassador to the UN, Hank McCoy,” Amanda calmly tells her and it takes every bit of will power not to laugh as her sister turns white as a sheet.

“EEP!” Annie squeaks, dropping the phone which Amanda easily catches since she was waiting for it to fall.

“I need to get going now, Hank,” Amanda states after putting the phone to her ear and Annie suddenly turns tail and runs.

“What just happened?” Hank asks, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice.

“Remember how I said Annie and I are complete opposites?” she questions.

“Yes,” he answers.

“Well, she’s very shy around people and the more important the person, the shyer she becomes,” she explains. “I just guaranteed at least ten minutes of silence from my sister. Hopefully she’ll get distracted before she comes to her senses and tells Mom what I did.”

“That wasn’t very nice,” he admonishes with a chuckle.

“Yeah, but I’m the evil one according to her, so I might as well live up to the hype,” she jokes. “However, I really do need to get going.”

“Yes, I should probably return to my own family as well,” he sighs. “Happy Thanksgiving, Amanda.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Hank,” she replies. “I’ll call you when I get home.”

“I shall count the minutes,” he tells her and she can feel her face turn bright red. “Goodbye, my dear.”

“Goodbye, Hank,” she answers before reluctantly closing her phone.

With a sad sigh, she slides her phone back into her pocket, slings her satchel over her shoulder, picks up the lantern and heads for the door. She leaves the turned off lantern near the barn door and makes her way across the yard in the quickly growing gloom of twilight. Even as far away as the barn and with all of the doors and windows shut she can hear the gentle mummer of talking interrupted occasionally by laughter. With a grimace and a groan, she steps up onto the back porch and opens the door.

“What did you do to your sister?” Cathy demands before Amanda can even shut the door.

“I didn’t touch her,” Amanda automatically replies.

“No, you just scared her speechless again,” Cathy growls, eyes narrowed. “Must you always act so childish?”

“Depends, Mom,” Amanda replies, trying desperately to remain calm. “When are you planning on treating me like an adult?”

Before Cathy can do more than open and close her mouth a couple of times, Amanda goes off to find her seat. It’s right where she expects it to be, at the kid’s table.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days later, she trudges through Penn Station, barely even aware of the other travelers around her. She’s tired, sore and just wants to go home and collapse. Sleeping for the next month wouldn’t be a bad thing in her book; unfortunately, it’s not likely to happen.

When she feels someone starting to pull on the straps of her bags, she instinctively grabs the straps, let’s out a startled yelp and spins around to face her assailant. She’s greeted with a blue smiling face and she’s not sure if she should hit him or kiss him. Deciding the later will be much more fun, she jumps into his arms and kisses him soundly. He’s surprised at first, but quickly recovers and returns the buss while his arms hold her close.

“I’ll take this to mean that you’re glad to see me,” he pants when they finally come up for air.

“Hi,” she gasps as she buries her face into the fur on his neck.

“Is everything alright?” he asks after they’ve been standing there for a couple of minutes.

“It is now,” she whispers and he holds her just a little bit tighter.

“As much as I loathe letting you go, we can’t stay here,” he tells her several more minutes later.

“Why not?” she grumbles, pulling herself closer to him.

“Well, for one thing, people are beginning to stare,” he points out.

“Let ‘em,” she mutters.

“They’re taking pictures,” he adds.

“Good, it’ll give the receptionist at work something to look for in the paper tomorrow,” she tells him, still not moving.

“Really, my dear, I must insist that we start moving,” he says as he gently, but firmly removes her arms from his neck. “I really have no desire to be on the 10 o’clock news.”

She looks at him questioningly as he pulls her bags off of her shoulders before looking around and seeing a camera man and a female reporter headed towards them. Before she can say anything, he turns her around and quickly steers her through the crowd of travelers. A few minutes later, her bags are in the trunk of his car and they’re pulling away from the curb.

She glances over at him and if the look on his face is any indication, he’s not happy about something. She quietly sits on her side of the car staring at her hands as he weaves his way through Sunday evening traffic. By the time he’s pulled over to the curb again, it’s taking every ounce of her will power not to lose it.

“Amanda, are you alright?” he asks, concern tinting his voice.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, not able to look at him.

“For what?” he inquires, now confused.

“For my behavior,” she states, still staring at her hands. “I just jumped you without even bothering to see if you wanted me to kiss you and then I wouldn’t let go when you asked me too and…”

“You’re starting to ramble again,” he gently teases.

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“My dear, when I become disenchanted with your attention on my person will be when you should check me for a pulse,” he tells her in a mater of fact voice as he puts a finger under her chin and guides her face up so that she’ll look at him. “I doubt I will ever tire of you ‘jumping’ me.”

“Then why were you so upset?” she asks.

“Remember the reporter that was headed our way back at the station?” he questions.

“Yeah,” she replies.

“That was my ex-girlfriend from college, Trish Tilby,” he tells her.

“Ok, that would have been a whole world of ick if she had caught up to us,” she admits.

“To say the least,” he agrees with a sigh and she gets a shy expression on her face.

“You really don’t mind me touching you?” she questions as she reaches up and caresses the back of the hand under her chin.

“I think I should be the one asking that question of you,” he states as he leans over and softly bumps her nose with his own.

She says nothing, but slightly tilts her head back in invitation which he gladly accepts as his lips claim her own. Seatbelts are quickly unfastened and he pulls her towards him as the kiss deepens. She’s halfway into his lap by the time she comes up for air and she doesn’t care in the least that her mother would have a fit if she saw them.

He can smell her arousal and the little moan she gives out as he starts to work his way down her jaw towards her ear just about does him in. He can hear and feel Beast encouraging him on and he’s not very inclined to disagree with his primal self at this point as her head rolls to the side so that he can gain access to her neck. He brushes her hair out of the way before starting to suckle on her neck and she lets out a little whimper as she presses herself further against him. He releases a soft, possessive growl just as one of his hands works its way under her jacket and suddenly her body stiffens.