Eye of the Beholder

Author’s Notes: Yes! I’m still alive and I survived summer vacation (anyone with kids will know exactly what I mean). Well, my muse has done again. She has me writing four stories in four different universes again. Sigh. I’ll try and keep everything up to date though. As always, a big thanks to Capt_Davy_Jones_Lover, Reed McCoy, brier, Nightmare, Cougar and Jesi for your reviews.

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“Oh, sweet Jesus,” she moans as she slumps down her chair, hands covering her face and snickers fill the air from some of the others. “Just shoot me, shoot me now.”

“It’s the reason that if she ever offers to make you dinner, that you should probably pass on it,” Mike tells Hank. “Or at least have your own stomach pump.”

“Uh-oh,” Bethany mutters under her breath.

“Daddy’s done it again,” Beverly quietly giggles.

“Excuse me, Mr. I-can’t-even-boil-a-pot-of-water?” Amanda challenges, dropping her hands onto the table and sitting up before turning her blazing green eyes onto her brother-in-law.

“Been nice knowin’ ya, Dad,” Paul mumbles.

“Hey, at least I readily admit I can’t cook,” Mike counters.

“So did I, but that didn’t stop Mom and Annie from dragging me into the kitchen kicking and screaming and telling me I was going to learn to cook one way or another,” Amanda shoots back. “And if memory serves me correctly, it was your suggestion that caused them to do so.”

“Perhaps we should start this story from the beginning,” Hank suggests since he has a feeling that things will not go well if they continue at the rate they are.

“Yes, please,” Clancy adds. “I’ve only heard bits and pieces of this story and I’d really love to know the whole thing.”

“Lovely,” Amanda grumbles as she slouches down in her seat.

“Please, Amanda,” Hank softly requests and she immediately caves with a sigh.

“A few years ago Mike made a snide comment about my lack of cooking skills and Mom and Amy got it in their heads that I needed to learn to cook something other than scrambled eggs and grilled cheese sandwiches,” she starts.

“She lives on take out and frozen dinners,” Cathy complains.

“And junk food,” Annie softly growls.

“So I was put in charge of making the mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving that year,” Amanda continues, ignoring her mother and sister’s comments. “Never mind that I barely know the difference between a potato masher and an egg slicer, that was going to be my job for that Thanksgiving. So the potatoes got peeled, boiled and drained and everything was going fine until Mr. Helpful here got me the sour cream out of the fridge.”

“Hey, how was I supposed to know that someone used an old sour cream carton to put the leftover plain yogurt in?” Mike gripes.

“Like I was supposed to notice that it was yogurt and not sour cream?” Amanda demands before turning back to the rest of the table. “It’s not like I use them…ever! So I plop in what he handed me and mashed away. By the time I was done pounding the potatoes into a white blob, it looked fine, but when we tried to eat it, that was something else all together.”

“That must have been quite the taste sensation,” Hank says, trying not to laugh and it doesn’t help that Clancy is also trying not to chuckle across the table from him.

“To say the least,” Stuart snickers.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, just go ahead and laugh,” Amanda grumbles. “Otherwise you’re going to hurt something.”

Snickering and chuckling fill the air for a few moments as she slumps down in her chair and pushes her food around her plate. Hank stops after a few soft chuckles, especially when he notices her sudden downturn in her mood. He looks over at her sadly, wishing there was a way to comfort her without setting her father off.

“So, Hank,” Cathy says after the chortling has calmed down. “How many children do you hope to have some day?”

“Oh, um,” Hank stammers, completely taken by surprise and a quick glance at Amanda tells him he is on his own for this one. “You know, I have never really given it much thought. It would depend on any future wife I might have.”

“Spoken like a true politician,” Clancy snickers. “So tell me Hank, what is life like at the UN? All the rest of see is what they show on the news. I imagine being right there in the middle of everything must be much different that what the rest of us see.”

Hank gladly answers Clancy’s question, happy for a chance to get away from the questions of any possible progeny that he may or may not have and the rest of the dinner conversation pretty much consists of Clancy asking Hank questions, much to Amanda’s relief.

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Several hours later, Amanda’s lying in her bed trying to read a book, but her mind keeps drifting off to earlier in the evening when Hank decided to bring up that rather embarrassing part of her past. It didn’t help that Annie had a smug little look on her face that Amanda wanted to rip right off or that Hank seemed oblivious to the fact that she was upset. Why did he have to remember her making that stupid comment about the mashed potato incident?

She knows what’s happening to her, enough time with a therapist has taught her to recognize the signs. Her parent’s insistence on catering to Annie’s every whim, Annie’s constant little catty remarks and glares and now Hank adding to her embarrassment with his thoughtless question has her wanting to crawl under a rock never to come out. She’s depressed and she knows it.

Reluctantly, she gets up and pulls her bags out from the closet before pulling up a loose floor board and retrieves her bottle of pills. She just kneels on the floor staring at the little white bottle with it’s prescription label glaring at her, almost as if it’s accusing her of not being able to keep a proper chemical balance in her brain. Just holding the bottle in her hand makes her more depressed and she lets out a sad sigh as she goes to open the child proof cap. She hates taking the damn things, but if it keeps her from having to take another trip to the hospital emergency room, then she will take them.

She silently wishes that she was someplace else than here, preferably with Hank as she struggles with the cap. She doesn’t know how or why, but usually when she’s with him, everything is alright and she feels completely at peace and safe, even if things aren’t quite going the way they should. The only times she hasn’t had those feelings around him has been when they had that fight the other night and earlier this evening. She silently hopes it’s not a sign of things to come as she finally gets the top off the bottle.

TAP TAP TAP

Startled, she quickly turns and stares at her window, but the heavy curtains prevent her from seeing out. She can feel her heart start to race since she knows what the sound of one of the branches of the elm tree tapping against her window sounds like and that isn’t it. It sounded like a fingernail against the window and she wonders who would be crazy enough to climb that tree at night and why.

“Amanda?” Hank’s muffled voice calls through the double paned glass and she nearly laughs with relief.

She immediately gets up and heads across the room, but as she reaches out to pull back the drapes, she notices she still has her bottle of pills in her hands. She quickly puts the cap back on and then hides the bottle in the drawer of her dresser. As soon as she’s sure it’s safely hidden, she pulls back the curtains to reveal a smiling blue face and she opens the window a crack, shivering as a blast of freezing cold air hits her.

“Hank, what the devil are you doing out there?” she demands in a hushed voice through the screen.

“Turning a deeper shade of blue,” he quietly jokes with a big grin as he adjusts his grip on the branch to get closer. “May I please come in?”

“No, absolutely not!” she hisses back, as she grips the unbuttoned portion of her pajama top closed. “If my father caught you in my room he’d skin us both alive.”

“Yes, he did seem rather protective of the staircase when I said I was going out for a stroll,” he softly muses. “If I can’t come in, could you at least remove the screen to the window?”

“Why?” she asks suspiciously, still keeping her voice down and trying not to shiver too much.

“So I can properly apologize,” he tells her, his face going from jovial to a look of sadness and regret. “I have a feeling I upset you earlier this evening and I wish to make amends.”

“Why didn’t you apologize earlier?” she inquires, still feeling surly about earlier.

“Because the way I want to apologize would probably send your father running for his gun and your mother chasing after Father Clancy,” he tells her with a devilish look in his eye.

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?” she grumbles as she opens the window a bit more and then removes the screen.

“I do try,” he chuckles as he reaches for her and cups her face in his hand.

“You’re hand’s cold,” she complains with no real strength behind the words as she leans her face into his caress and closes her eyes.

When she feels his breath on her cheek, she opens her eyes just enough to see him coming in for a kiss. She leans forward until their lips meet and she sighs with a sense of wellbeing again as all of the tension seems to melt away from her body. She drops the screen onto the floor and reaches up to sink her fingers into his lush mane and they both let out moans of pleasure.

The kiss deepens and she can feel her nipples harden from more than just the cold air coming in the window. His hand slips from her face to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her long tresses and the possessive growl that escapes his throat sends a shiver right down her spine to that special place between her legs. He groans as the scent of her arousal hits his nostrils and the hand that was holding onto the tree lands on the window sill.

He starts to lean forward, pushing her back into her room and she tries to break off the kiss, but his hold on her is impossible to break. She whimpers as her traitorous body responds to his aggressive ways and she’s quickly losing her will to fight him off, all caution gone, quite literally, out the window. His hand slides down her neck and brushes the side of one of her breasts before wrapping his arm around her waist. She moans with her need as he pulls her closer and sets one of his feet on the window sill while her arms circle his neck.

The sound of the kids stomping up the stairs, complaining about having to go to bed startles the two lovers apart. They stand there panting as the kids tromp past her door, whining about the unfairness of it all and Amanda’s not sure who’s shaking harder, her or Hank. She rests her head on his shoulder and tries to catch her breath while she listens to the sounds of the kids as they fade down the hallway.

“You should get going,” she whispers and he nods his agreement as he carefully climbs out of her window and back into the tree.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” he softly asks while she starts to move the screen back into place.

“Always,” she quietly assures him as she reaches out and caresses his cheek.

He makes a sound deep in his throat that distinctly sounds like a purr as he rubs his face against her hand and she has to smile. He grabs her hand and then kisses the palm which sends a delightful shiver through her body and causes her to take in a sharp breath. He gives her a roguish grin before releasing her hand and then jumping from the tree, landing as quietly as a cat.

She stares at him in surprised wonder until he turns, flashes her another grin and then waves goodbye. She shakes her head and chuckles to herself as she replaces the screen and then shuts and locks her window, barely noticing the first fat snowflakes as they start to fall from the sky. She carefully closes the curtains and turns back to her room which seems garishly bright after the darkness of the night. With a smile on her lips, she turns off the light and climbs into bed as the memory of that kiss warms her chilled body back up. She tries not to think about the long week ahead as a hand slips between her legs to ease the pressure the kiss put there.

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He takes a deep breath of biting cold air, closes his eyes and tries to bring his libido under control, but the memory of her warm, soft lips and the smell of her arousal aren’t helping any. He groans as he feels his blood heading for below his belt and he struggles for control over his body while Beast gives him images of various things it’d like to do to her in her bed. He quickly thinks about Logan in a skort again, but it has little effect now so he makes mental Logan start doing the Can-Can and with a shriek of frustration, Beast backs off.

With a sigh of relief, he opens his eyes again and sees that it’s started to snow. With child like glee, he opens his mouth and deftly catches a drifting flake on his tongue, instantly melting. He closes his eyes again as memories of his childhood roll through his mind and a nostalgic smile plays across his lips.

The simple times of just being a kid with no worries in the world, never knowing how incredibly different he would become when he became an adult. He remembers carefree days where he would do nothing more vigorous then making snowmen and catching snowflakes on his tongue. He remembers how proud he was with himself when he built an entire little town in the snow one day and how disappointed he was when it snowed during the night, completely covering it. He stood there staring at the spot his little town had occupied until his mother came out and called him in.

“Hank, what in the world are you doing?” she asks in a surprised and slightly worried voice. “You’re going to catch your death cold standing out there.”

Funny, that doesn’t sound like Mom, he thinks to himself. Though that is something she would say.

He opens his eyes and reality comes crashing back as he quickly remembers where he is. He turns to see a concerned Cathy standing on the porch watching him, her arms crossed over her chest as she tries to stay warm

“Just remembering my childhood when life was so much simpler,” he softly admits. “So many things have changed since then. Decisions I’ve made, both good and bad, that have brought me to where I am today.”

“Any regrets?” she questions as he starts to move towards her.

“A few,” he admits. “But I will tell you a couple of things I haven’t regretted in the least.”

“What’s that?” she inquires as he steps up onto the porch.

“Meeting Amanda and asking her out,” he answers truthfully. “These past two months have had some of the best days of my life in them.”

“Despite her hanging up on you?” she teases.

“Especially because she kept hanging up on me,” he chuckles while brushing the snow off of his shoulders. “I wouldn’t trade in the look on her face when she found out for all the tea in China.”

“Too bad you didn’t have a camera handy,” she snickers as she starts to help him.

“True, but if I did, I doubt that she would have agreed to go out with me, so it’s just as well that I didn’t,” he points out.

“Very true,” she agrees. “Let’s get inside. I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to freeze.”

“That does sound like a very good idea,” he replies as he opens the door for her and waits for her to enter.

“You still have snow in your hair,” she tells him while he shuts the door behind them.

“That’s alright,” he says. “I was planning on taking a shower, if that’s ok.”

“Yes, of course it is,” she assures him. “You should probably use the one down here since the kids are probably still getting ready for bed.”

“Good advice that I shall most certainly heed,” he responds as he starts up the stairs.

“Goodnight, Hank,” she says while she heads towards the kitchen.

“Goodnight, Cathy,” he replies as he continues his journey up to the next level.

He can hear the kids long before he reaches the landing and just as he’s passing Amanda’s door, he catches a whiff of her scent.

Mate, Beast demands.

Not just now, Hank tells it as the sounds of Mike tickling the girls reaches them.

Cubs, Beast states as if shocked and Hank marks another word in his other half’s vocabulary.

Yes, those are cubs, Hank patiently tells it.

Beast falls silent and Hank breathes a sigh of relief as he heads to his room to collect his things. He quickly gathers his essentials and heads back towards the stairs, hearing Mike now reading to the kids as he walks past their room. He gets a strange sense of longing that he’s never had before, but before he can dwell on it, he passes Amanda’s room again and her scent rouses Beast from his quiet state.

Mate! Beast insists.

We can’t, Hank reminds it. When we get home, then we will spend time with mate.

Hank knows Beast will not be satisfied with this answer and hastily makes his way to the downstairs bathroom. He barely gets the door shut before Beast starts throwing erotic images of him and Amanda doing all sorts of delightful things. He can feel his blood flowing south again and this time he doesn’t fight it.

He turns on the water and then strips, careful not to snag or hit any part of his anatomy that’s currently a bit more sensitive than usual. As soon as the water is ready, he steps into the warm stream and then takes himself in hand, gladly letting his mind wander back to the kiss he shared with his very special lady. It doesn’t take him long before he’s biting back a roar as the pressure is released and he leans against the wall panting, wondering how he’s going to survive an entire week with only the occasional stolen moment with her.