Eye of the Beholder

Author’s Notes: For my Canadian readers, I apologize in advance for the song at the end of this chapter, but you have to admit, it works perfectly. Now last chapter I mentioned that I had a couple of bad reviews over on the Fan Fiction dot net site, well, I’ve now posted a rebuttal on my Author’s Page on that site. You can find it here: http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/u/707794/ As usual, a big thank you to my reviewers blue_lioness, Dragonpink, moon_muse, Cougar, Capt_Davy_Jones_Lover, Aderiana, brier and Anon. You guys make my day when you review.

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He stands perfectly still, barely daring to breathe with his gaze glued to that lump in the bed. He tries to listen to see if he can here anything coming from the bed, but it’s impossible with Amanda’s teeth chattering and her dragging in ragged gasps of warm air next to his ear. He holds her shivering body as tightly as he dares so as to share his body heat with her, but it’s several minutes before the trembling starts to subside and all the while the form in the bed never moves.

“Hank,” she whispers, exhaustion evident in her voice.

“Bed,” he replies quietly, still nervous about the unmoving shape.

“Sounds good,” she states very softly.

“Someone’s in it,” he hisses back.

She makes a noise that almost sounds like a chuckle just before she nuzzles his cheek with her nose.

“Down,” she instructs as she starts to try and squirm out of his arms.

He carefully sets her down on her feet and watches with his heart in his throat while she stumbles towards the bed. He gets ready to bolt out the window as she carelessly grabs the covers and flips them back. He stares at what’s there for several seconds to make sure he’s seeing accurately before he nearly laughs out loud in relief.

With a shake of his furry head and a smile on his blue lips, he goes and helps her remove the dirty clothes she piled into her bed in a vaguely human shape. It takes only a few moments to clear the clothes out of the bed and as soon as they’re done, she reaches under the bed, pulling out her pajamas and the screen to the window. He takes the screen and returns it to its proper place as quickly as he can to try and keep the cold air getting in to a minimum.

When he turns around, he can see that she’s almost done changing clothes and that she’s shivering again. He closes the curtains before returning to her side as she collects her recently shed clothing into her arms. He takes the discarded clothing from her and then gently pushes her towards the bed.

She doesn’t need further encouragement and when he returns to the bed to kiss her goodnight, he finds her almost completely covered by the blankets. He can see her shivering even through all of the bedding and it takes him only a moment to make up his mind. He slides into the bed with her, causing her to start and he softly shushes her as he pulls her into his arms.

“I’ll go as soon as you’re warmed up,” he quietly assures her.

She tries to see his face in the darkness, but she can’t see anything. With a sigh she relents and slowly relaxes in his arms, her face buried into his shoulder. The day’s activities plus the lateness of the night and his warmth have her drifting off to sleep within a few minutes.

He can ‘hear’ Beast purring in the back of his mind as he rubs his hand up and down her back in an effort to warm her up. All too soon he can feel her body give one final shudder before going completely limp in his arms with a long sigh. He smiles lovingly down at her before gently kissing her forehead and then carefully extracting himself from her and the bed. He ignores Beast’s roars of protest as he firmly keeps control of his body so that Beast can‘t take over and crawl back into bed with her.

He silently leaves the room, intently listening for any unusual sounds as soon as he gets the door cracked open. Once he’s sure the coast is clear, he slips out into the hallway and then softly shuts her door. As he heads for his room, he can feel the tension start to leave his shoulders, something he wasn’t even aware of having held onto and then he sees the doorknob on Cathy and Stuart’s door start to slowly turn.

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Stuart finally manages to get out of bed without waking his wife and he gets dressed as quickly and as quietly as he can. When he’s done, he looks down on her sleeping face and he smiles lovingly down at her. He remembers those times when they were dating and doing things they really shouldn’t have been doing and then the thoughts of what they were doing a little while ago makes him grin.

He remembers the nasty looks her father gave him and how hard the man tried to keep an eye on them. He nearly laughs out loud as he thinks of the things they used to do to be alone the many close calls they had. He definitely won’t soon be forgetting the day his father-in-law found out Cathy was pregnant with less than a month to go before their wedding and his self righteous anger about the whole situation.

It briefly occurs to him how similar the situations are and then quickly puts it out of his mind. After all, since this is his daughter, it’s different.

With one last look at Cathy to make sure she hasn’t woken up, he tiptoes to their door and opens it as carefully as he can. He makes on final check on the love of his life once the door is ajar and then he quietly slips out into the hall. He walks as silently as he can to the sewing room door and with the utmost caution, he pushes the door open.

While the room is very dark, he can see that the only bodies occupying the bed are of the feline persuasion. It’s all he can do not to go stomping down the hallway and barge into his daughter’s room. He opens her door a bit more forcefully then necessary and fully expects to see two heads to pop up and look at him guiltily.

When there’s no movement from the bed, he goes over and puts his hand on the lump under the covers, expecting it to give way to his touch. When it becomes obvious that there is someone in the bed, he makes sure that it’s only Amy in there. He quickly checks behind the door, under the bed and in the closet for their missing guest and ends up coming up empty on all counts and this doesn’t make him happy.

With a frown on his face, he leaves her room, carefully shutting the door behind him. He turns around and nearly runs right into Hank as the younger man reaches the top of the stairs.

“Good evening, Stuart,” Hank quietly greets. “Why were you in Amanda’s room?”

“Oh…um…I was…uh…just checking that…ah…there…weren’t any cats in her room,” Stuart softly stammers as he quickly shuts her door. “She hates it when they get in her room.”

“I see,” Hank blandly replies, not believing the other man’s lie for a second.

“So, what are you doing out of bed?” Stuart asks, trying to keep the accusing tone out of his voice and pretty much failing.

“I became a tad parched, so I went to the kitchen and got myself a drink,” Hank answers pleasantly while the two of them start to walk down the hall towards their rooms.

“You seem a bit overdressed for just a glass of water,” Stuart points out, a suspicious tone in his voice now.

“Well, Mike did warn me on my first night here that wandering around half dressed is frowned upon,” Hank tells him as they reach Hank’s room. “I hope my lack of footwear is alright.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Stuart mutters while trying not to sulk.

“Then I shall bid you a good night,” Hank says as he steps into his room.

“Night,” Stuart grumbles while he stalks back towards his room.

Stuart goes to open his own door only to find it won‘t turn. He takes a firmer grip on the knob and tries again only to have the same result. He quietly knocks on the door and after about a minute, he tries again a bit more loudly. Another minute passes by before Stuart remembers Cathy’s threat from earlier and with his proverbial tail figuratively tucked between his legs, he goes and knocks on Hank’s door.

“Ah, Stuart, how may I help you?” Hank congenially inquires, now only dressed in his sleeping pants.

“I seem to have locked myself out of my room,” Stuart mumbles, knowing full well that he did no such thing. “I don’t want to wake Cathy, so…”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m afraid picking locks isn’t my forte,” Hank states, trying very hard to keep from smiling.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to get me into my room,” Stuart hastily assures him before waving a hand towards Hank’s room. “I just wanted to…”

“Would you care to use my bed?” Hank questions and has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the horrified look on the older man’s face. “Just point me towards the spare pillows and blankets and I will sleep on the couch.”

“Oh no!” Stuart quickly replies, not even wanting to think of the fallout with his wife if he made a guest sleep on the couch. “I’ll sleep on the couch, I just need to get to the extra bedding.”

Before Hank can say anything else, Stuart slips past him and heads for the closet. He grabs what he needs as fast as he can and then he all but runs out of the room. Barely containing his snickers, Hank quietly closes the door and returns to his bed where he finds a rather unwelcome guest.

“Really, Siegfried, is it truly necessary to stretch yourself all the way across the bed?”

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Kitty pushes the remains of her breakfast around her plate, doing her best to ignore the excited chattering of the other students. Normally, Christmas morning doesn’t bother her, but this year it’s different. With an unhappy sigh she continues to stare at her half eaten food and she doesn’t even look up when three other people join her at her table.

“Hey, Kitty,” Rogues softly greets. “Wolvie still plannin’ on makin’ ya shovel snow this mornin’?”

“Yeah,” Kitty grumbles, slouching down in her chair

“That is so bogus,” Jubilee puts in. “I mean, come on, it’s like Christmas morning. I know you’re Jewish and all, but still that’s like no reason to make you go out and shovel snow on Christmas morning. I mean, really, it’s like still snowing for Christ sake. Like whatever happened to peace on Earth and good will towards men?”

“I’m not a man,” Kitty points out as Serena pushes something into her hands.

“Here, you can borrow my MP3 player,” Serena interjects before Jubilee can open her mouth. “It’ll help the time go by a little bit faster.”

“No thanks,” Kitty replies as she tries to return the item to the younger girl. “My parents gave me an iPod for my birthday.”

“Trust meh, sugah, ya want to borrow it,” Rogue tells Kitty.

Before Kitty can object to borrowing the small device, Serena turns it on and holds one of the earpieces near Kitty’s ear. The look on Kitty’s face goes from bewilderment to absolute wicked joy. Just then Logan walks into the cafeteria, looking around for Kitty and the young woman he seeks gladly wraps her fingers around the small player.

“Thank you, Serena,” Kitty nearly purrs as she stands up. “This will definitely make shoveling snow a lot less…boring.”

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“Remind me again why we’re not using the snow blower,” Kitty requests as they come out of the garage, snow shovels in hand.

“Because Storm wants us to reduce our carbon footprint or some such crap,” Logan grumbles as he tosses a shovel full of the white stuff off to the side.

“But the whole driveway by hand?” Kitty practically whines as she stares at the gates that seem to be miles away.

“Yeah, she said somethin’ about the furball showing up or something’,” he replies, not pausing in his task. “Guess she’s hopin’ he’ll stop by since he’s in Vermont.”

“Hank’s not in Vermont,” Kitty states as she starts to shovel. “He’s in Virginia visiting Amanda’s family.”

“Is he now?” he chuckles. “Guess the furball’s gettin’ serious about the lawyer lady.”

“Guess so,” she replies with a shrug.

“Ya want to put a bit more effort into the shovelin’ there, Kitten?” he demands when he notices how far behind him she is.

“I’m trying to keep up,” she retorts. “It’s not like I’m as strong as you and I don’t have your healing factor so I do get tired.”

“Want some cheese with that whine,” he responds with a smirk and she just glares at him as she reaches into the pocket of her jacket. “Whatchya got there?”

“Just my music,” she tells him grumpily as she puts the first earpiece in place. “I can listen to my music while I’m stuck out here, can’t I?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” he replies as he goes back to his shoveling. “Just keep it down.”

“Whatever you say, Wolvie,” she says with a grin and he gives her a suspicious glare over his shoulder.

She ignores him as she turns the player on and then goes back to her shoveling. He can faintly hear the music, but since it’s so low, he quickly puts it out of his mind as he concentrates on clearing the driveway of snow. A while later he can hear her humming along to the music being piped into her head and he just rolls his eyes while he continues to digging his way to the front gates, quickly losing himself in his own thoughts until he hears her softly singing.

“Don't wanna be a Canadian idiot
Don't wanna be some beer-swillin' hockey nut
And do I look like some frostbitten hosehead?
I never learned my alphabet from A to Zed”

He goes perfectly still, barely daring to breathe. She isn’t really…

“They all live on donuts and moose meat
And they leave the house without packing heat
Never even bring their guns to the mall
And you know what else is too funny?
Their stupid Monopoly money
Can't take 'em seriously at all”

He slowly turns and stares at her, fairly sure that his highly sensitive hearing must be wrong. She couldn’t be…

“Well, maple syrup and snow's what they export
They treat curling just like it's a real sport
They think their silly accent is so cute
Can't understand a thing they're talkin' aboot”

He slowly stalks closer to her, but she’s completely oblivious to his approach.

“Sure they got their national health care
Cheaper meds, low crime rates and clean air
Then again, well, they got Celine Dion
Eat their weight in Kraft macaroni
And dream of drivin' a Zamboni
All over Saskatchewan”

It takes only a moment for him to get to her and faster than a thought, he reaches out to grab the wires to the earpieces, giving them a good hard yank. But instead of pulling them out of her ears, he brings back an empty hand. He makes a grab for her arm and isn’t the least bit surprised when his hand sinks right through her as if she isn’t there, though it still pisses him off. He gets ready to start yelling at her, but she just casually moves away from him as if she’s completely unaware of him.

“Don't wanna be a Canadian idiot
Won't figure out the temperature in Celsius
See the map, they're hoverin' right over us
Tell you the truth, it makes me kinda nervous”

He roars in anger and takes a flying leap at her. He sails right through her and ends up landing face first in a pile of snow. To add insult to injury, she dumps a shovel full of snow right on top of him.

“Always hear the same kind of story
Break their nose and they'll just say "sorry"
Tell me what kind of freaks are that polite?
It's gotta mean they're all up to somethin'
So quick, before they see it comin'
Time for a pre-emptive strike!”

He shakes the snow out of his face and glares at her as she bops along to the music and continues with her chore, completely ignoring him. Figuring the song has got to be pretty much over, he crawls out of the snow drift and sulks back over to his dropped shovel. He gives a sigh of relief when he hears the music end, but his eyes go incredibly large a second later when the same notes start over again. With a scream of frustration, he goes running back into the garage and returns a few moments later with the snow blower going full tilt.

Meanwhile, back inside the stately mansion, three young women are standing near a window that looks out over the driveway. They are laughing so hard they have tears streaming down their faces, their sides are hurting and the two younger ones are holding each other up while the eldest is leaning against the wall and banging her gloved fist against it.

“Do I want to know what they’re laughing about?” Storm quietly asks from the other side of the room.

“Probably not, but I imagine that it more than likely involves the tormenting of a certain muscle bound cretin with personal hygiene issues,” Angel replies.

“You’re probably right on both counts,” the headmistress sighs before she turns and walks away, making a mental note to make sure it doesn’t snow for the next couple of days and to remind Logan that a bathroom is for bathing in.

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Disclaimer: I don’t own the rights to Canadian Idiot, a parody of American Idiot with new lyrics by ‘Weird’ Al Yankovic.