Eye of the Beholder

Author's Notes: So I was on vacation last week and guess what happens. The kids and I catch a cold right in the middle of the trip. Hubby of course is fine and the kids have gotten over it, but I'm still suffering from the lovely effects of this stupid bug. That being said, I have proof read this chapter, but if you see some big glaring mistakes, blame the cold and then PM me about them. At any rate, a big thank you to my reviewers: Cass, Cougar, Anon, Kris_A, blue_lioness and Michael.

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“Amanda?” he calls into the darkness after making sure she's not on the very far side of the bed.

There's no response and he can feel his heart starting to race. With a trembling hand, he turns on the light while Beast starts whimpering in the back of his mind. After his eyes adjust to the sudden illumination, he looks around the room and ascertains that she's not there.

Where mate? Beast demands and Hank can sense it beginning to get restless.

“I don't know,” Hank grumbles as he climbs out of bed and heads for the bathroom. “But I intend to find out.”

He checks, but the restroom is empty and he notices her pajamas are neatly folded on the counter next to the sink. He takes a deep breath and notes that her scent is a couple of hours old making him worry even more. Keeping his panic at bay and ignoring an impatient Beast, he quickly pulls his pants and shirt back on. A brief check of her luggage and he can see that her purse and the satchel with her art supplies are missing.

Making sure he has his room key, he quickly heads for the door, but as he reaches for the door he stops. He stares at his hand covered in blue fur and then goes in search of his watch. He finds it on the nightstand and straps it on as fast as he can. Once he's sure the image inducer is working properly, he steps out into the hallway and takes another deep breath.

Again the scent is faded with time, but it tells him which way she went and he swiftly sets his feet in motion. He soon finds himself waiting for the elevator, bouncing on the balls of his feet impatiently. After what seems to be an eternity later, the elevator doors slide open with a 'ding'.

He steps inside, but there's no trace of her scent and he huffs in frustration. He takes the most logical action and presses the button for the lobby, praying that she hasn't done something rash. A few moments later he arrives at the lobby level and he again inhales deeply.

It's faint, but it is there and he quickly steps out of the compartment before the doors can close on him. Unfortunately, there are dozens of other scents mingled in with hers which makes it hard to tell which way to go. He steps away from the bank of elevators and closes his eyes to try and discern where she might have gone.

With a frown on his face, he opens his eyes and heads towards the main desk, but he completely looses the scent shortly after starting. He turns around and heads back the other way, intent on finding her. He worries that since she didn't leave a note and the two things that would be hardest replace are missing. It doesn't help knowing that she's probably still upset since he kept turning down her advances earlier.

Find mate! Beast demands.

“I'm working on it,” Hank growls back, eternally grateful that at this time of night there aren't that many people around to hear him talking to himself.

He soon gets to a spot where he can go right or left and it doesn't help that her scent seems to go in both directions. He decides to go with the right hand rule and turns that way in hopes of finding his lady soon. Instead he comes upon the lady's restroom and he quickly turns around to go the other way.

He finds himself standing outside the hotel's cafe with very few customers in it so it's very easy to spot a lone, dark haired woman sitting by herself on the other side of the restaurant. With a sigh of relief, he swiftly walks past the hostess's station and heads for his lady, paying little heed to anything else.

“I'm sorry, sir, but you can't come in here,” a woman's voice says, bringing him up short.

He turns and looks at the lady wearing a server's uniform, blinking a couple of times in surprise. He brings up his hand to brush back his unruly hair and making sure the image inducer is still working at the same time.

“Why not?” he asks.

“You're not wearing any shoes,” she points out.

He looks down and sure enough, his feet are quite bare.

“I'm sorry, but I won't be staying long,” he explains as he nervously glances over at Amanda and sees that she seems to be staring intently at something on the table in front of her, completely oblivious to anything else. “I just want to...”

“I'm sorry, sir, but it's against the health code to let you in without shoes on,” she tells him.

“Yes, of course,” he mumbles as he quickly turns and heads back out.

Once he's past the hostess's station, he glances back at Amanda and sees she hasn't moved. Silently wishing he had Nightcrawler's ability to teleport himself, he heads back up to the room while hoping that she'll still be there when he gets back. He rushes down the corridors to the elevators and silently thanks his lucky starts that there's an open one already waiting there.

In a very short amount of time, he's back in their room and hurriedly putting his shoes on, not even bothering with socks. In his haste, he's not as careful as he normally is and ends up breaking a shoe lace. With a growl of frustration, he throws the broken piece away and heads back downstairs.

He returns to the cafe and starts to head inside only to be stopped once again by the same woman.

“I'm sorry, sir, you can't come in here,” she tells him.

“Why not?” he questions a bit heatedly and points to his feet. “I'm wearing shoes.”

“That's nice, sir, but we're closed now,” she replies pointing to the hours listed on the hostess's station and with a great deal of effort, he manages not to bang his head against the thing in aggravation.

“Did you perchance see which way the dark haired woman that was sitting in that booth went?” he inquires, trying not to sound desperate as he points across the darkened dinning room.

“No, sir, I didn't,” she answers.

“Thank you,” he says with a false calm and turns to go.

He inhales deeply and then follows his nose back to the elevator bank. His stomach twists around as he pushes the up button, hoping that she's gone back up to the room, but not entirely sure. As soon as he steps out of the elevator, he fills his lungs again and lets it out in a loud side of relief.

He quickly heads for their room, the muscles in his neck and shoulders starting to relax as he pulls the room key out of his pocket. In very short order he's back in the room and he can see the bathroom light is on, but the door has been left ajar.

“Amanda?” he calls as he taps on the door with his nail.

“Yeah,” she replies in a rather lifeless tone of voice.

“Is everything all right?” he questions worriedly.

She doesn't answer him, but comes out of the bathroom still pulling her pajamas on and he gets a glimpse of the bruises on her back. He takes in a sharp breath as he starts to reach for her, but she sidesteps his hand. He stands there with his arm still out, perplexed by her action as she picks up her satchel and opens it.

“Amanda?” he queries, confused by her behavior as he lets his arm finally drop. “What's wrong? Have I done something wrong?”

“It depends,” she responds, sounding less than pleased at the moment while she pulls out her two drawing pads, opens them and then hands them to him. “Are the two men in these drawings men in these pictures the same one as the one standing in front of me?”

He looks down at the pads of paper in his hands and he can feel his stomach drop. The newer drawing is one of him with the image inducer on as he was checking them into the hotel earlier this evening, but it's the second one that's got his stomach twisting itself into knots. It's the drawing she unknowingly drew of him the night after the masquerade when she had dinner with Doug and he was privy to their private conversation.

“Oh dear,” he mumbles sadly.

“Oh dear?” she snaps. “I find out that this whole relationship may be a lie and all you can say is 'oh dear'!?”

“A lie!?” he shoots back in surprise, looking up at her with shock written all over his face. “What makes you think that my feelings for you are untrue?”

“You didn't ask me out until after you overheard me tell Doug that I would go out with you if you asked,” she points out heatedly, her arms wrapped around her middle like she's trying to hold herself together. “Though it does explain how you knew about me cleaning when I think and the knight in shining blue fur thing.”

“I was planning on asking you out well before that dinner,” he tells her a bit forcefully, tossing the pads onto the bed and taking a step towards her only to have her take a step back. “You can ask Ororo if you don't believe me. Unlike some of the men in your past, I do not make it a habit to play with another's emotions, especially a woman's.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” she asks, the hurt evident in her voice. “I feel like the only reason you asked me out was because you heard me say that I would go out with you. Like I'm just a charity case because I can't seem to keep a guy interested in me.”

He takes a deep breath and forces himself to calm down. The recent worry and frustration of trying to find her combined with the lack of sleep has left him on edge. Not wanting to frighten or anger her, he takes another moment to let the tension go.

“If anyone's a charity case, my dear, it's me,” he tells her in a soothing voice as he turns the image inducer off. “Look at me.”

She stubbornly continues to stare off to the side and he reaches out to her. He's thankful when she doesn't shy away from his touch as his fingers gently cup her chin. He softly guides her face in the correct direction and while at first she does resist him, her gaze finally does turn on him. He can see her eyes are bright with unshed tears and his heart feels like it's being torn from his chest.

“Women aren't exactly pounding down my door, you know,” he points out as his free hand carefully brushes some stray strands of hair from her face. “You have no idea how much I value the time we spend together, if for no other reason than you treat me like a man and not the beast everyone else sees.”

“Why didn't you tell me that it was you?” she quietly asks with a small sniff.

“I don't know,” he sadly answers. “I wanted to tell you, but a part of me was afraid that you'd never speak to me again if you found out. All I can say at this point is that I'm sorry. Please forgive me.”

“I don't know, Hank,” she softly responds as she pulls her face out of his hand and looks away again. “I feel used, that your feelings for me aren't real.”

Before she can even blink, he drops down to his knees and takes her hands in his, mindful of her broken wrist. She can feel her heart starting to pound in her chest and she tries to take a step back, afraid that he's going to break his word to her. However, he's not letting go, not that it really matters since she'd have to climb over the bed to get away from him.

“My feelings for you are quite real,” he states firmly as he looks up at her with pleading eyes. “Someday, I don't know when, I am going to ask you to let me be your husband because I cannot imagine my life without you in it. Please believe me and please forgive me. Please.”

She finally looks down into those blue eyes, begging for forgiveness and no matter how much some small part of her wants to stay mad at him, her heart can't. She slowly and carefully gets down on her knees too and then lays her head on his shoulder. He carefully takes her trembling body into his arms and lets out a sigh of relief.

“I take it I'm forgiven?” he questions after several silent moments and she nods as she takes in a ragged breath.

He gently rubs her back while her body shudders as it releases the pent up emotions. When she starts to try to get back up onto her feet, he gracefully stands and helps her the rest of the way up. He softly kisses her before she can point out what a klutz she is and she gladly leans into him, almost too tired to hold her own weight up.

“Want to hear something funny?” he whispers in her ear shortly after the buss ends.

“What?” she questions, nearly asleep on her feet.

“When I saw you and Doug together that night, at first I thought he was your boyfriend,” he tells her and see pulls back enough to stare at him with a disbelieving look on her face.

“You thought that Mr. Doug 'Somebody-Hose-Me-Down-Because-I'm-a-Flaming-Queer' Jacobson was my boyfriend?” she asks, trying hard not to laugh right in his face.

“That's not very nice thing to say about your best friend,” he responds, trying to contain his own chuckles.

“His words, not mine,” she tells him and then lets out a huge yawn.

“Perhaps it would be best if we retired for the evening,” he suggests and she simply nods her agreement.

In short order, the bed is cleared, he's stripped down to his boxers, the lights are turned off and they're cuddling under the covers. He lets out a sigh and starts to relax with her warmth pressed against his side. Just as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, she squirms around next to him and he can't help but open his eyes.

“Are you all right?” he asks as she roles away from him.

“I'm fine, just go back to sleep,” she replies, but he can hear that there's something wrong by the tone of her voice.

“Amanda, please, tell me what's wrong,” he begs as he also turns onto his side so that he's spooning her.

“Just go to sleep,” she grumbles as she tries to squirm away only to be stopped by an arm around her middle.

“Amanda, please,” he pleads as he buries his nose into her hair and she lets out a strangled whimper. “Amanda?”

“Let me go, please,” she nearly cries while she tries to push his arm away.

“Not until you tell me what's wrong,” he replies, his breath brushing past her ear and he can feel her body shudder.

She struggles for a bit longer, but when she fails to get away, she makes another one of those strange noises.

“Amanda,” he whispers, his voice full of worry and the pain that she's not telling him what's wrong.

“I'm horny,” she snaps and he's so stunned that she's able to squirm out of his arms.

“I don't understand,” he states in confusion, letting her wiggle away to the edge of the bed before stopping her. “What did I do to get you aroused?”

“You didn't have to do anything,” she answers miserably as she sits on the edge of the bed, his hand resting on her thigh. “Just being in your arms gets me going. Ever since we first kissed, I've wanted you to touch me in ways that leave me blushing and horny at the same time.”

They sit in silence for a while, he's stunned by the revelation and she's just miserable. Her body aches and throbs from her fall, but at the same time it's screaming to be touched and there's nothing she can do about it. When the hand on her thigh slides up over her belly and brushes the side of her breast, she nearly jumps out of her skin.

“Hank?” she calls softly, her voice quavering with pent up emotions.

“There's more than one way to satisfy my lady fair,” he tells her in that sexy rumbling voice of his as he gently pulls her back into his arms.

Before she can so much as squeak, his hands are roaming over her body and all she can do is arch into those talented hands. He caresses her breasts through the material of her top and she whimpers as he teases the nipples into hard little peaks. She needs to touch him and her left hand wildly searches for some part of him to hold onto while she keeps her right hand away from moving body parts.

Her hand lands on his thigh and he can feel a great deal of blood headed for his groin, but he tries to ignore it. When she starts moaning his name he has to sternly remind himself and Beast that this is for her and not for their own gratification. With a great force of will, he turns his attention towards her and gets her even more worked up despite that miscreant hand that's now groping and caressing much too close to his growing member.

His lips and teeth start nibbling on her neck and ear and she compulsively grabs his thigh tighter. He pulls her closer, unconsciously grinding his growing need into her hip. Instinctively, she pushes back and he can't stop himself from holding her firmly against him.

“Oh God, Hank, please,” she begs with a moan as her left leg wraps itself around his, naturally pulling her legs apart.

The smell of her arousal takes his breath away and it takes every last shred of willpower on his part not to strip her naked and mate with her like a wild animal. He latches onto her neck while one hand continues to fondle her breasts and the other slides between her legs. She has to clamp her jaws shut to keep from crying out from the pleasure he's giving her and her hand slides up his leg until it has a firm hold of his backside.

Even though there's her pajama bottoms and panties to contend with, he still finds that sweet bundle of nerves between her legs. Her whimpered moans hit a fevered pitch as she bucks into his hand and her motions are making his own problems even harder. It only takes him a few seconds to make her body go stiff as she goes flying over the edge and she barely manages not to scream it to the world.

Several seconds later, she collapses into a boneless lump next to him and he carefully shifts her so that his erection is no longer poking her. He then gently moves her left hand away from himself and hopes that she hasn't notice his own problem. As she lets out a contented sigh, he silently hopes that she'll fall asleep quickly so that he can go and take care of his own problem.

Mate? Beast queries, sounding completely confused and Hank knows it's because he's not seeking his own pleasure with her.

No, mate is hurt, Hank silently tells it, turning his attention inward. We don't want to hurt mate more.

Beast whines as it tries to understand and Hank reminds it of her broken arm and the bruises they saw earlier. He finally gets his primal self to calm down and he hopes that with it now getting settled, so will a rather determined part of his body that doesn't seem to want to get the message. Before he can start running images of Logan in a skort doing back flips through his mind, she does something that nearly makes him jump right out of his fur.

“GAH!” he cries as fingers of her left hand take a hold of his silk covered turgid length.

“Seems to me that I'm not the only one who needs a little relief,” she purrs, amusement coloring her words.

“Amanda, you don't need to ohmystarsandgarters,” he gasps as she starts to move her hand up and down.

“Yes, I do,” she replies softly.

She manages to roll over just before she crawls onto his body all while keeping her hand in motion. She straddles his thighs as she speeds up her ministrations and he couldn't stop the groan escaping his throat even if he wanted to. He can feel his eyes roll up into his head while his hips start to push himself into that wonderful hand.

His hands grab hold of the bedding for fear that if he touches her, she'll be naked and under him in a mater of seconds. His grunts bounce off of the walls as he loses himself to the feeling of her jerking him off. Just as he feels himself getting close, her hand starts to loosen and without thinking, he covers her hand with his.

His movements become frantic as he seeks his release and it's all she can do not to get bucked off of his legs. A short time later he barely bites back a roar as his body starts to convulse and she can feel herself toppling off of him. She tries to right herself, but he still has hold of her hand and she doesn't think as she reaches out with her right hand to catch herself.

Her fingers barely touch the sheets when she realizes what a mistake she's made. Before she can pull her hand back, his other arm comes up and nearly crushes her to his body. She lets out a gasp, part in surprise, part in pain and then buries her face in his fur.

“Are you alright?” he asks as he quickly loosens his grip on her, worried that he may have hurt her.

“I'm fine,” she assures him while she slips her hand out from under his. “I'm definitely ready to sleep now.”

“That makes one of us,” he grumbles as he gently releases her and then slides out of bed. “It seems I am in need of some clean shorts.”

“Serves you right,” she snickers as she gets comfortable. “Payback for those panties you ruined.”

He chuckles as he heads towards the bathroom to get cleaned up. A while later he slips back into bed and he nearly purrs with happiness when she cuddles up to him. With a sigh of contentment, he starts to drift off to sleep when a sudden thought strikes him.

“Amanda?” he softly calls, not wanting to wake her if she's already asleep.

“Mmm?” she hums sleepily.

“Instead of returning to New York tomorrow, would you please come with me to Vermont?” he requests and he can feel her lift her head to try and look at him. “The cabin is already paid for, so it might as well get some use. It's very lovely out there and it would just be the two of us.”

He waits breathlessly for her answer and after a moment, her head returns to its resting spot on his shoulder.

“Sounds nice,” she murmurs into his fur. “I've never been to Vermont before.”

A short time later he feels her drift off to sleep and with a smile on his lips, he joins her.