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Eye of the Beholder

By: TheShadowCat
folder X-Men: (All Movies) › Het - Male/Female
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 81
Views: 14,919
Reviews: 358
Recommended: 0
Currently Reading: 1
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the X-Men movies, or any of the characters from them. I make no money from from the writing of this story.
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Dinner with Doug, pt. 1

Author’s Notes: A big thank you to Vixey, blue_lioness, Arden, amh and christina for your reviews. Keep ‘em comin’ and I’ll keep writing.

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“Please tell me that clock is wrong,” she begs and it takes his brain several seconds to register what she’s said.

“What clock?” he finally asks as he tries to force his libido back to normal.

“The one on the dash board,” she states as she pushes back a bit. “Is that the correct time?”

“It’s fairly accurate,” he replies as he reluctantly lets her go. “Why?”

“Oh God, Doug’s going to have a fit,” she moans while she finally gets herself off of his lap.

“Why is Doug going to have a fit?” he questions, trying to keep Beast from taking over as she pulls away from him.

“I’m supposed to meet him for dinner in a few minutes,” she explains while readjusting her clothes and he can feel his heart sinking. “If we hurry we’ll only be a little late.”

“We?” he inquires, hope returning.

“Unless you don’t want to,” she hastily states, embarrassed by her assertiveness once again. “I mean, I can understand, Doug’s my friend and I can completely understand why you wouldn’t want to have dinner with him and me, but we have this thing set up where we meet and have dinner every Sunday night when we’re both in town and umph…”

“I would love to have dinner with you and Doug,” he tells her when he finally releases her from the kiss he used to stop her rambling. “Where is the restaurant?”

“A…a….a few blocks that way,” she stammers as she shakily points down the street, her brain still spinning after that last kiss.

“Since your apartment is between here and there, why don’t we drop off your bags on the way, ok?” he suggests as he reaches down for the trunk release.

“O-o-ok,” she agrees, still a little light headed and he can’t help but smile as he gets out of the car.

She quickly checks her makeup in the visor mirror as he goes to get her bags out of the trunk. Just as she’s reaching for the handle, he opens the door and offers her his hand. He helps her out of the car and then gently guides her along the nearly deserted sidewalk with his hand on the small of her back. Once they reach her apartment building, she takes all but one of her bags from him.

“I’ll be right back,” she tells him.

Before he has a chance to point out that she has forgotten one of her bags, she disappears into an elevator. When she returns a minute later, he holds it out for her and she smiles at him as she takes it and slings it over her shoulder. She immediately starts down the street, setting a brisk pace.

“I called Doug and let him know that we’re going to be a little late,” she tells him as he easily falls in step with her. “I also told him to get us a table for three. He’s looking forward to humiliating me some more, just so you know.”

“You don’t seem very upset about that,” he states, watching her curiously.

“I have my ways of extracting revenge on Mr. Doug,” she smirks.

“Does this include bodily harm or mental anguish?” he asks, chuckling.

“Oh, more mental anguish of the cruelest kind,” she snickers.

“Do I even want to know what you have planned for the poor man?” he inquires, torn between commiseration with a fellow male and laughter at her apparent glee.

“Probably not,” she tells him.

“Playing up the ‘evil twin’ again, I see,” he chuckles.

“Hey, what can I say?” she questions with an evil grin. “I’m a lawyer.”

Before he can respond to that, she indicates that they’ve arrived at the restaurant and he immediately opens the door for her. They easily spot Doug in the back and weave their way through the tables, ignoring the open stares, and in some cases glares, of the other patrons. Doug stands to give Amanda a hug and Hank a handshake before Hank pulls out a chair for her to sit.

“So, how was your trip?” Doug asks Amanda.

“Oh, worse than usual,” she replies. “You should have seen Mom at church this morning. She introduced me to every unattached male there ranging in age from just out of high school to nearing retirement age. You’d think her life depended on me getting married.”

“You know she just wants to see you happy,” Doug tells her.

“She wants more grandkids and she’s willing to do almost anything to get them,” she grumbles.

“You know if you just told her about you and…,” Doug starts to say.

“No!” she interrupts. “I refuse to have that mad woman harassing Hank every chance she gets.”

“Oh, come on, she can’t be that bad,” Doug tries to convince her.

“Need I remind you about Easter a few years ago?” she asks, eyebrows raised and lips pursed.

“Oh god, no,” Doug moans as he closes his eyes and a shudder runs through his body. “I had put that experience out of my mind, thank you.”

“What happed at Easter a few years ago?” Hank inquires and Doug groans as he leans forward and bangs his head on the table.

“Doug was going through a bit of a rough time and I didn’t want to leave him alone,” she explains. “So I brought him to my parents’ place for Easter which is very similar to Thanksgiving except that the weather is warmer and I can escape for longer and I can get farther away.”

“So, what happened?” Hank questions; dying of curiosity.

“Now keep in mind I did tell my mother that Doug is just a friend,” she states and Doug finally lifts his head.

“Didn’t help though,” Doug grumbles. “The instant I walked in the door you would have thought that I was the second coming of Jesus Christ. And when Amanda and I finally made it clear to them that I don’t swing that way, you’d think I’d become a leper. They were civil enough, but they all had this attitude like we were playing some nasty trick on them or something. Not something I really needed right then. We came back to New York a day early because of it.”

“Now do you understand why I don’t want to put you through that?” she asks Hank.

“Yes, my dear, I do, but since I do swing that way, I doubt they’ll treat me like a leper,” Hank replies.

“Being treated like the second coming isn’t much better,” Doug warns him. “You can’t even take a leak without someone following you around, seeing if you’re comfortable and making sure you have everything you need. Do you want something to drink? Would you like something to eat? Was the toilet paper soft enough?”

“Toilet paper?” Hank chuckles

“I kid you not,” Doug states in a nearly horrified voice. “Her mother was all set to go to the store and buy a different brand of toilet paper if I didn’t like the brand she had. Those people are completely loony.”

“If you’re not going to believe me, please believe him,” she begs resting her hand on his arm. “I wouldn’t inflict my family on my worst enemy.”

“Ok, ok, I believe you,” he chuckles as he finally picks up his menu. “But you didn’t answer the question I asked you a few days ago.”

“What question was that?” she inquires, perplexed.

“Will you come to my parents’ place for Easter?” he asks while fishing his glasses out of his pocket.

“Oh, that question,” she nearly squeaks. “I’ll get back to you on that.”

“If you don’t want to go, I’d perfectly understand,” he tells her as he buries his nose in the menu.

“It’s not that, it’s just I don’t know what to tell my parents,” she explains. “If I go to one of your family get-togethers before they get to meet you, there’s going to be Hell to pay. God, what am I going to do?”

It’s her turn to drop her head on the table with a ‘thunk’ and Hank gently rubs her back while going over the menu. The feeling of his warm hand rubbing soothing circles on her back is almost enough to put her to sleep right then and there. It feels so good that she almost doesn’t notice Doug move her bag away from her and she barely manages to lift her head to look at him.

“Go back to your purring, I’m just going to take a quick look,” Doug tells her.

“I’m not purring,” she growls.

“She’s right, it’s physically impossible for a human to purr unintentionally,” Hank puts in without looking up from his menu. “It was more of a humming sound she was making.”

“You’re not helping,” she grumbles to herself before folding her arms on the table and dropping her head on them.

“What have you got there?” Hank asks Doug as Doug pulls a sketch pad out of Amanda’s satchel.

“Her drawings,” Doug tells him while flipping the book open. “Hey, these are old ones. Where are your newer ones?”

“The new stuff is in the book with the blue cover,” she answers without bothering to look up.

“Why’d you bring the old ones?” Doug asks as he fishes out the correct book from her bag.

“Grandma wanted to see them,” she explains. “I didn’t have time to drop them off before coming here.”

“May I see them?” Hank asks.

“Sure, go ahead,” she replies as the server finally arrives to take their orders.

After the server leaves, Hank and Doug look through the sketch books while Amanda happily hums as Hank is now scratching her back.

“These are very good,” Hank tells her as he slowly goes through the pages.

“Thank you,” she mumbles.

“You should see some of her latest stuff,” Doug states with an amused tone. “Ah, here’s one of my favorites.”

“Oh…my,” Hank gasps as he carefully takes the pad that Doug is holding.

He stares at an image of himself staring back at him over the top of his glasses that are perched on the end of his nose and an amused look on his face.

“I don’t remember posing for this,” he states.

“You didn’t,” Amanda tells him without even bothering to look up. “I get images stuck in my head and they don’t go away until I draw them out.”

“When is this from?” Hank asks and she finally lifts her head from her arms to look at her drawing.

“I drew that after our first date,” she tells him before lying her head back down.

“When did you have time?” he questions, turning his attention back to the paper.

“After I got home,” she responds as she gets comfortable again.

“I must say I’m very flattered,” Hank tells her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she sleepily replies.

“You’re no fun,” Doug pouts as he takes the pad away from Hank. “I was sure you’d at least blush a little.”

“Too tired to be embarrassed,” she mumbles. “I spent a week sleeping on a lumpy couch.”

“I thought you were going to get an air mattress,” Doug responds.

“I did,” she responds. “Jason whined until I put it away.”

“Hasn’t anyone put that little brat over a knee yet?” Doug asks.

“Nope,” she growls.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Hank puts in.

“Do you remember the spoiled rotten brat that my cousin gave birth to?” she questions as she raises her head to rest her chin on her arms.

“Ah, yes,” Hank answers. “The only child who is in desperate need of some disciplinary action.”

“That’s the one,” she tells him. “Well, when he saw that I had an air mattress, he wanted to sleep on it. I, of course, had the temerity to tell him ‘no’. So he goes crying to his mother about what a big meanie I am. My cousin comes storming downstairs demanding to know why I didn’t buy a mattress for Jason too. After about ten minutes of arguing about why it’s not my job to see that Jason is living in the lap of luxury, my mother comes downstairs demanding that I either give up my mattress or put it away because our arguing was keeping everyone up. Since I’d sooner put a hole in the mattress than give it to that whiny, snot nosed brat, I had to put it away. I then spent the rest of my trip sleeping on the couch.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t demand to be allowed to sleep there,” Hank states.

“He got the good couch,” she growls as she sits the rest of the way up. “I got the old decrepit one at the other end of the house where the warm air never seems to reach during the cold months.”

“I have to wonder again why you go if it’s as bad as you say,” Hank says.

“My grandmother is there,” she tells him as she points to the pads in their hands. “She’s the one who taught me how to draw. It’s one of the few times of the year that I get to just sit down with her and talk. She makes it all worth while. Of course, a week’s worth of home cooked meals doesn’t hurt either.”

“And they say the way to man’s heart is through his stomach,” Doug snickers and she sticks her tongue out at him. “Not your best defense, counselor.”

“I think I’ll go powder my nose before I have to hurt someone,” she mutters as she gets up, giving Doug a glare and heads for the bathroom.

“Not to sound egotistical,” Hank starts as soon as she’s out of site. “But are there more drawings of…”

“You?” Doug finishes and hands the pad he was looking at over. “Have a look for yourself.”

Hank cautiously flips open the cover and starts to go through the wide variety of drawings in her sketch book. There’s everything from simple graphite pencil drawings to those that have been filled in with colored pencils and there are images as simple as a leaf and as complex as kids at play. He can feel his skin heat up as he encounters the number of pictures of him but then he gets to one that raises the hackles on the back of his neck and he lets out an involuntary low growl.

“Ah, I see you came to the one of James,” Doug says and Hank looks up at the other man.

“It’s an incredible likeness,” Hank says in a flat voice.

“Do you see what’s surrounding him?” Doug asks and Hank takes another look at the picture.

“He’s standing in a field next to a tree and it looks to be about twilight,” Hank states.

“Take a closer look,” Doug instructs.

Hank adjusts his glasses and leans closer to the paper and he nearly drops the pad when he sees what he’s been missing.

“Snakes,” Hank states.

“And they’re everywhere,” Doug replies. “There are snakes in the grass, there’s a snake in the tree and if you look closely, you’ll see one on top of his head and coming out of his sleeve. Plus they’re all constrictors.”

“One would think that she would draw vipers,” Hank muses as he goes back to examining the picture.

“Yes, but it was once believed that constrictors mesmerized their food into holding still while they wrapped their coils around the victim,” Doug points out. “A sort of mind control, just like what James does.”

“Ah, I see,” Hank replies as he continues to inspect the drawing. “But why is one of the snakes in the tree?”

“It’s the snake that tempted Eve, not that I’m any Eve, but it just seemed right at the time,” Amanda states causing Hank to actually jump in surprise. “I never thought I’d get the drop on you.”

“Why’d you draw a picture of him?” Hank asks, trying to keep any accusatory tones out of his voice.

“My drawings are an emotional outlet,” she tells him as she sits back down. “If something makes me happy, sad, angry, what have you, then I draw it. It’s a type of therapy for me and paper and pencils are a lot cheaper than a therapist.”

“I suppose it would be,” he replies with a smile as he rises to his feet. “If you’ll excuse me, it seems that I’m in need of the little boy’s room. I’ll be right back.”

“So how is it that you two came here together miss ‘I’ll just take a cab home and meet you at the restaurant’?” Doug teasingly asks as soon as Hank’s around the corner.

“He surprised me at the station,” she answers. “About scared me out of my wits too.”

“So, did he get a kiss hello?” Doug inquires, a smirk firmly planted on his lips.

“Are you kidding?” she scoffs as she drops her face into her hands. “I’m pretty sure the man still has his tonsils. God, I feel like a slut.”

“Speaking of sluts,” Doug says, his face becoming serious and his voice dropping in volume to just above a whisper. “Don’t turn around, but guess who just walked in the door?”
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