Eye of the Beholder

Author’s Notes: I forgot to mention last chapter that if you want to hear what the song Amanda sang, go to YouTube and type in ‘Celtic Woman Ave Maria’. While I don’t think Amanda is as good as the lady singing the song, she’s somewhat close. A big thank you to my reviewers: Anon, Capt_Davy_Jones_Lover, blue_lioness, onewing, Cougar and brier. You guys are the best.

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He’s officially lost count of how many hands he’s shaken, but he’s fairly sure that he’s been greeted by everyone who attended the service and he’s beginning to suspect that a few may have just wandered in off of the street. It’s even getting to the point to where he’s wondering if they’re just reproducing at an extraordinary rate. As he shakes yet another hand, he glances over and sees that he’s almost to his goal.

He notes that she’s not having much better luck as people walk up to her and greet her, taking time to congratulate her on her performance and to do a quick catch up with her. While a smile is plastered to her face, he can see that the late hour and the stress of trying to get out of there are beginning to show, at least to him. When a particularly handsome young man stops to talk to her, he can feel Beast take notice and when she laughs at something the stranger says, it tries to take over.

My Mate, Beast growls, fighting for dominance.

Calm yourself, Hank tells it. We will be with her soon.

This does anything but placate the snarling Beast and Hank redoubles his efforts to get to their lady and mate before his primal half can give him a headache. He finally reaches her side just as the young man leaves and Hank can hear Beast hissing and snapping at the retreating back. Controlling the urge to roll his eyes, he instead turns his attention to the beautiful lady before him.

“That was quite lovely, my dear,” he tells her while he zips up his coat. “I’ve never heard that version of Ave Maria before.”

“Thank you, Hank,” she replies with a grateful smile as she gets her gloves on just before they step outside the church. “It’s by Charles Gounod. Most people know the one by Franz Schubert, but I find that one’s been done to death and it’s a bit higher in pitch than I can comfortably sing. It looks like it’s about to snow again.”

“That will be nice,” he says while he looks at the dark sky above them. “It just doesn’t seem like Christmas without a fresh blanket of snow on the ground. Of course, it will make it rather difficult if you plan to come back to church later this morning.”

“No,” she laughs as the rest of her family joins them. “Getting the kids away from the Christmas tree on Christmas morning is a feat even Hercules would blanch at doing. Midnight mass is good enough in our book.”

“Mom, can Hank come home with us?” Bethany asks as she grabs one of Hank’s hands.

“Yes, please, can he, Mom?” Beverly adds while she latches onto Hank’s other hand.

Hank quickly looks over at Amanda for help and much to his chagrin; he sees her trying to hide her smile behind her hand. He narrows his eyes at her and she has to turn away so that he can’t see her laughing, though he can hear the barely contained snickers. He has no choice but to turn his attention back down to the grinning girls clinging to him with all of their might.

Cubs, Beast states suddenly and Hank just barely manages not to roll his eyes.

Yes, they’re cubs, Hank patiently confirms.

“I think it’s best to let Hank go back with Grandma and Grandpa,” Mike calmly tells the twins and quickly continues at the look of their crestfallen faces. “It’s been a long day for everyone and you two need to calm down. Besides, Hank’s probably quite tired and he doesn’t need you two jumping on him all the way back to your grandparents’ place.”

“Aww, but Dad…,” Bethany starts to whine.

“Why don’t I escort you two charming young ladies to your car and then maybe later today I could read to you from the lovely book your aunt gave me for Christmas,” Hank suggests.

“What book is that?” Beverly asks as he starts to head towards the minivan they came in with the rest of the family trailing behind them.

“The Adventures of Tom Sawyer,” he answers.

“Isn’t that a book that was written a really long time ago?” Bethany questions.

“Yes, it was,” he confirms. “It was written a very, very long time ago.”

“You mean like when Grandpa was a kid?” Bethany asks.

“Thanks a lot,” Stuart mutters under his breath.

“Even before your great-grandfather was a kid,” Hank tells her with a smile.

“Wow,” Beverly breathes as they reach the vehicle.

“Ok, gang, everybody in,” Mike announces while he uses the remote to unlock the doors and open the sliding door.

Before the girls can start to whine, Hank easily lifts the two of them up into the vehicle with squeals of laughter before stepping back to allow Paul through. As the boy slips past his aunt, he pauses and looks up at her.

“Aunt Amy?” Paul says as he stares at the place several inches below her collar bone, right where the pendent lies hidden beneath her coat.

“Yes?” Amanda replies.

“Where did you get your necklace?” Paul asks, his eyes still glued to that spot.

“That was my Christmas gift to her,” Hank answers as he moves beside her.

“You gave her a gold necklace for Christmas?” Cathy excitedly questions.

“I needed to get something lovely for such a lovely lady,” Hank tells the older woman while staring at Amanda who’s cheeks suddenly become a much brighter shade of pink.

A grin stretches across Cathy’s face like someone’s told her that she’s just won the lottery, Stuart scowls and Amanda makes a small sound that’s something between a whimper and a moan.

“Ok, sir,” Mike says as he puts his hand on Paul’s back and starts pushing the boy towards the car. “Now that you’ve embarrassed your aunt, please get into the car. I can hear my pillow calling me from here.”

Paul allows his father to herd him into the car, but continues to stare at his aunt with a slight frown on his face. Amanda has a strange look across her visage in response and to Hank’s eyes it looks to be something between confusion and worry. He briefly glances at Annie and all thoughts of Amanda and Paul are temporarily forgotten.

The woman is obviously upset, but it’s her eyes that have his undivided attention. Even though the lighting is fairly poor, her pupils haven’t widened like everyone else’s has. Hank tries to think back to every time he’s seen her and whether or not he’s seen her pupils any other size then they are now.

“Hank, are you coming with us or going with them?” Stuart asks, drawing Hank away from his musings.

Hank turns to see that Stuart, Cathy and Amanda are already by the car and are waiting for him.

“Coming,” Hank responds as he heads towards them.

Stuart starts the vehicle as soon as they’re all in and then turns the heat up before heading out onto the road.

“You know, I didn’t get a good look at that necklace earlier,” Cathy happily states, looking over at her daughter who tries not to cringe. “You’ll have to show it to me when we get home.”

“It’s just a necklace, Mom, not an engagement ring,” Amanda grumbles as she leans her head against the headrest and closes her eyes.

“Macy’s is having a huge after Christmas sale tomorrow,” Cathy announces, completely changing the subject. “You simply have to come with Annie and me this year.”

“Sure,” Amanda yawns as she gets more comfortable and the smile on Cathy’s face widens into a huge grin. “But I’m not stepping foot one into the china or crystal departments so you can just forget about looking at patterns.”

“Why in the world would I want to look at china patterns?” Cathy asks, trying to hide the crestfallen look on her face. “Annie and I already have all the china we can use. We’re going for the after Christmas sale.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Mom,” Amanda quietly mumbles as she relaxes, fully prepared to let the soft purr of the motor and gentle vibrations of the car lull her to sleep.

Cathy slumps down into a pout and Hank nervously glances at Amanda, worried that maybe she’s forgotten his promise to come for her later. Knowing that there’s no way to talk to her about it with her parents there, he turns back around and watches the Christmas lights go by as they drive through the mostly deserted town. He’s so absorbed in his own thoughts that he never notices the suspicious glances cast in his direction by the driver of the car.

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“For Heaven’s sake, Stuart, where are you going?” Cathy groggily asks.

“I’m just going to check something,” he answers while he finishes tying his robe shut and then puts his hand on the door. “Go to sleep.”

“Stuart David Simon get your butt back in this bed this instant or so help me you’ll be spending a month on the couch,” she hisses as she props herself up on her elbow.

“But…,” he starts.

“No ‘buts’,” she growls. “Enough already. It’s not like he’s going to sneak into her bedroom and so they can start going at it like a couple of rabbits. Now give it a rest and get back in bed.”

“Did you see the way he was looking at her when she was singing?” he demands, still not moving from his spot by the door.

“He looked like a man who’s fallen head over heels in love,” she gentle tells him. “Amy’s finally found someone who truly cares for her, but she’s not going to be able to keep him if you chase him away. Now, please, come back to bed.”

“I just want to…,” he tries to tell her.

“You are not going out there and making sure he’s still in his bed,” she warns. “If you do, I’ll lock you out without so much as a pillow.”

“I know where you keep the extras,” he shoots back and she smirks.

“Yeah, in the room Hank is sleeping in,” she replies smugly. “Do you really want to explain to the US Ambassador to the UN why you’re getting a pillow and some blankets out of the closet?”

“I suppose telling you that I’m just going to get a glass of water isn’t going to cut it, is it?” he asks a few seconds later.

“Nope,” she answers. “Now please come to bed. It’s getting cold without you beside me.”

With a sigh of defeat, he takes his bathrobe off and climbs into bed where he finds his wife waiting for him with open arms.

“I distinctly remember a certain young man who drove my father to his wits end back when I was sweet young thing,” she purrs as she snuggles up to him.

“I wasn’t that bad,” he grumbles while he holds her close.

“According to my father, you were the worst,” she chuckles as she nuzzles his ear. “According to him you could never seem to keep your hands to yourself. He threatened to pepper your hide with rock salt more than once as I recall.”

“I’d do it all again in a heartbeat,” he groans while she starts to nibble on his ear and his hands start to roam over her body. “As I recall, you weren’t all that innocent yourself, little missy.”

“No, I wasn’t,” she snickers as she starts to kiss his neck. “I’ve learned a few things since then too.”

“Show me,” he moans just before he rolls towards her and captures her mouth with his own.

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Hank lets out a sigh of relief when he hears his hosts starting to enjoy each other’s company and he goes to get up. So intent was his focus on the couple in the next room that he didn’t notice the cats joining him in his bed again and now he’s faced with a bit of a dilemma. Lying in the center of his broad chest like a giant fuzzy meatloaf is a big orange cat who’s staring at him as if to dare him to make it move.

“Excuse me, cat, but I need you to get off of me now,” he whispers.

The cat just glares back at him, unblinking, with a look on its face as if to say, ‘Don’t even think about it, Blue Boy.’

Knowing that frightening the animal may alert its owners that he’s not asleep, he lies there staring at it, willing it to get up and move. Much to his disconcertment, the cat simply makes itself more comfortable and then closes its eyes. A low, frustrated growl emanates from Hank’s chest and the cat’s eyes fly open in surprise.

The glare the cat gives him is rather startling at first, but Hank is not about to disappoint his lady fair because of an overgrown puffball who can’t seem to take a hint and that’s when the battle of wills begins.

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She lies there, staring into the darkness as her nerves keep her wide awake. He promised to come to her once everyone was asleep and her father did a final bed check over half an hour ago. She wonders if he’s forgotten or if he himself has fallen asleep while waiting for the others to doze off.

Maybe he thinks she’s forgotten because he saw her getting ready for bed with her pajamas and robe already on. She remembers the slightly worried look on his face, but she gave him a quick wink to assure him that she was just putting on a show for her parents. She hopes that he saw it and understood and didn’t think she just had a muscle spasm or something like that.

She glances at the clock again and with a sad sigh, she throws back the covers. She gets out of bed and starts to get her pajamas out from under the bed where she had hidden them along with the screen from her window. She tries not to let her disappointment overwhelm her as reaches for the buttons on her sweater.

TAP! TAP! TAP!

She gasps as her heart starts to pound in her chest and she barely remembers to pull the covers over the pile of clothes in her bed before she all but flies to the window. She slaps the heavy curtains out of the way in her haste to get to the glass and sees almost nothing. With the clouds obstructing the light of the moon and her lights off, she can barely see the shadow of the elm tree outside her window. With a sigh of disappointment, she figures it was just one of the branches hitting her window and she starts to turn away.

From the corner of her eye she sees the tree’s shadow move unnaturally and she quickly turns back for a better look, nearly getting a crick in her neck when she does. The shadow continues to move and eventually it takes on a very familiar shape. She bites her lip to keep from crying out her relief and joy of seeing him, knowing that he hadn’t forgotten or fallen asleep.

She quickly opens the window, ignoring the blast of cold air that hits her in the face, glad that she’s at least wearing a heavy sweater over her blouse and he reaches his hand out for her. She grabs his hand and he starts to pull her towards him. She resists him, not sure what he has in mind and he moves closer to her.

“Trust me,” he whispers, continuing to gently pull on her hand.

“You, I trust,” she hisses back as she hesitantly puts her foot on the windowsill. “It’s the tree I’m not so sure about.”

“It will hold our weight,” he softly assures her as he guides her arm around his neck.

She’s not sure if the shiver that runs down her spine is caused by her nervousness or the bitterly cold wind blowing up her skirt, but she puts her trust in him and climbs out the window into his waiting arms. He quickly closes the window as soon as she’s through and then holds her close as she wraps her legs around his waist. He takes a moment to make sure that they have a firm grip on each other and to rub his cheek against hers.

She holds him tighter when she feels his muscles start to tense and a moment later she can feel him leap into the air. She buries her face into his neck as the adrenaline rush kicks in and she just barely manages not to cry out. Once they’re back on solid ground, another shiver runs down her spine and he gives her a gentle squeeze as he kisses her hair.

“Hold on tight,” he quietly instructs.

Before she can ask why, he’s running through the night at speeds a world class sprinter wouldn’t stand a chance of keeping up with. His arms hold her close and his body moves against hers as he dashes across the yard. She feels the rush as more adrenaline pumps through her veins and at the same time, her body is starting to respond to his, aching for him to do more than just hold her.

Suddenly he stops and she can hear him opening the side door on the barn. She looks up as he steps into the building, closing the door behind them and it’s even darker here than it had been outside. She goes to put her legs down, but he still has a tight hold on her and so she just holds onto him.

“I can’t see a thing,” she whispers after he’s been moving forward for a bit.

“I know, that’s why I’m carrying you,” he softly admits as he nuzzles her hair.

She lets out a quiet moan as she rubs her face in his neck fur and her fingers sink into his mane. He groans when her nails reach his skin and he’s barely able to walk straight as she starts to place kisses on his neck. He just manages to catch himself against the wall when she nips his jaw and then starts nibbling at his ear. A possessive growl escapes his throat as she continues to assault his senses and he can feel Beast start to try to take control.

“Amanda,” he pants, his knees threatening to give out as she grinds her hips into his, barely missing his growing erection.

“I told you this would be torture,” she softly reminds him just before her tongue starts to trace the outside of his ear.

“Amanda, I love you, but you must stop tormenting me before we get to our destination,” he gasps, trembling with the effort to stay upright.

She goes perfectly still and at first he’s glad she’s listened to him, but then he realizes that she’s barely breathing.

“Do you mean that?” she asks in a barely audible whisper. “Do you really love me? Or are you just saying that so I’ll stop?”

“I mean it,” he tells her as he holds her closer. “I didn’t mean to say it that way to you. I know we’ve only known each other a short while but my affection for you is quite genuine. You must think me quite the cad for just blurting it out like that and I’m sorr…”

“You’re rambling,” she points out, her fingers resting on his lips.

“Am I?” he questions as soon as her fingers drop away. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to start rambling. I don’t normally ramble. I’m usually very calm and level headed…”

“You’re rambling again,” she tells him as soon as her finger on his lips silences him.

“Sorry,” he mumbles around her finger.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” she informs him. “Is that alright?”

She can feel him nod and she slides her fingers across his cheek as her nose bumps into his. He’s fairly sure his heart is going to explode out of his chest any second and he can feel her hands caressing his face, causing a shiver to run down his spine. In a small corner of his brain he’s mentally kicking himself for telling her his feelings in such a callous way, but then her warm breath ghosts over his lips and anything that resembles coherent thought stops.

“I love you, too,” she whispers just before she presses her lips to his.