Chapter One: Blushing
Blue eyes watched a screen feed him sample results. Hank McCoy was not focused on the results though. His mind wandered around aimlessly until landing back on the small ache that was growing more and more present. He was nearly thirty-five. And he was alone. People who made it to thirty-five alone died alone. He was past the point where he regretted things in the past with women. He now felt an ache to be with someone for...well, for life. He sighed and combed his hair back with his fingers. Like anyone would want a thirty-something beast; it was the worst of all options.
"Could all staff please meet in my office."
The mental announcement was nothing out of the usual so Hank never suspected for a moment that what he would find that day would have any lasting effect on his life. He left what he was working on in his lab and meandered up to Xavier's large office.
When he walked in, he was greeted with the usual warm wood, leaf-speckled sunshine, and old leather smell. Most of the others were there already and talking to Xavier and...someone else. He couldn't see whom.
"Now that Dr. McCoy is here I believe that is everyone." Xavier smiled and the group cleared from around his desk. With her back to Hank, a female sat facing the professor. Xavier nodded and she stood and faced the mutants.
"Everyone, I would like you to meet Izabelle Rowan. She will be living here for the foreseeable future and will take on classes where needed. She has come to us for help with some problems related to her mutations."
"If you don't mind me asking, Izabelle, what are your mutations?" Scott smiled his homecoming-king-esque smile at her, trying to make her feel more welcome.
She smiled back easily. Izabelle was average looking in most ways Beast noted– average height and build with short thick brown hair. "It is a hard thing to explain. I can control people's memories of me. I could be your own sister and cause you to forget you had ever met me." Izabelle gazed intensely into the eyes of whomever she spoke to, unusual but not intimidating.
"Can you plant memories?" Scott querried. Hank was curious; her mutation was bizarre to say the least.
"Not yet. That is one reason I am here."
Xavier smiled and broke in calmly. "Izabelle arrived late last night and will remain here with us for quite some time. So there will be ample time for those questions. For the time being, try to make Izabelle feel as at home as possible."
Scott nodded solemnly, as if agreeing to help someone were as serious a task as a rescue operation.
"Hank, if you could stay behind, I would like to have a word with you."
Even as Charles' friend, that sounded like he was being called into the principal's office. Since he had the time, Hank decided to just watch others with the "new girl."
Jean and Izabelle seemed to have already met and where Jean laughed quickly Izabelle was more reserved. But she was making those around her laugh frequently. She seemed totally at ease; the only thing that betrayed her nerves was her constant fiddling.
Izabelle could feel someone watching her and glanced over in Hank's direction. She noticed him watching her and actually looked at him. Their eyes met for the first time. He was clearly watching her, arms folded comfortably and leaning against a wall. He smiled and bowed his head at her. A tiny smile crept across her face and she looked away. But every so often she stole glances back at this man, always smiling and observing her.
Gradually, everyone left but Hank and Izabelle. Charles motioned for them both to sit and spoke to Hank. "Izabelle has come to us, not for shelter, but for medical and genetic help. Izabelle sporadically loses control of her mutations, causing anyone, no matter how close, to forget she even exists. If you would work with her to see if there is something that can be done to help her we would both be grateful. Jean and I will work with her on controlling her powers psychologically."
"I would be glad to assist in any way I can." When he spoke it was directly to her and she felt that he sincerely meant what he said. She smiled shyly in return.
Closer up Hank could better see her large eyes. She had bright hazel eyes, like amber and green sea glass.
"Glad to hear it." Charles looked pleased and began to shift through papers to resume working.
Hank padded quietly down the hall, wondering about the new woman. If he was to be working with her then there would be plenty of time to learn about her.
Izabelle left the office quietly. She was glad to have sometime to settle in but one thing concerned her: she had no idea where she was.
She had followed the Professor to his office from a classroom and did not think she could get back to her own room from here.
Up ahead, she saw blue turn a corner. She debated: chase after a total stranger or wander around the building until someone offered to help her. But he had been a very nice stranger. A sweet and sincere stranger.
She decided on the former.
Hank picked up the sound of small footsteps jogging up behind him and turned. He was surprised to be greeted by the sight of the new woman.
"Hello." His voice was amused and she blushed. "Are you stalking me?"
"No…but I can be if you would like."
Hank stared and then laughed loudly. Not the answer he had expected. She gave him a small, secret smile in return.
"I have a favor to ask, actually. I don't think I can find my way back to my room. Could you…help me?"
"The lady needs help. I will assist." He motioned her to his right and took up walking by her side. He was currently close to her in height, so if he stood straight she would be a head sorter than him.
Her posture was perfect as they walked together, seemingly in conflict with her casual jeans and jacket.
"I'm sorry but I didn't catch your name." Her voice was mellow and even.
"Dr. Hank McCoy."
"Izabelle Rowan." She extended her hand. Hank took it. Now that he was standing much closer to her, Hank could see that she was several years younger than him.
He was able to quickly find her room, on the edges of the dorms with other female staff.
"My things are here but I haven't had much of a chance to figure out where anything is. Would you mind…?"
"Not at all."
Hank helped her unlock the door and showed her where things were in the room; the bathroom and closet were built into the walls and at first were hard to find. Not to mention the emergency escape door that every bedroom now had.
Her window looked out over a piece of forest and the cliffs and ocean. She hefted open the window and leaned far out of it. Then she turned back to him, grinning. "It's so lovely! Everything is so fresh and like home."
Hank nodded abstractly, feeling the same about his own view. When Izabelle beamed at him like that she looked so...vibrant. He promised himself that he would do anything and all that he could to help her.
Izabelle cocked her head to the side, noticing the look he was giving her. His features were softened by it and the most human of his appearance shone through. She wondered what he had looked like as a "human," without the blue fur and claws. But he was still handsome. She shook her head clearing the unexpected and troubling thought. When she looked back at him, his clear blue eyes met hers and held tight for a moment before he looked away.
Hank gestured down the hall, "My lab is downstairs, in the basement. I look forward to seeing you in the near future."
She nodded and he shut the door with a soft click. Izabelle began to unpack, a small panic creeping into her calm. She could not get involved here, not with him and not with anyone. There were plenty of handsome men here and each and every one of them would forget her when her powers took control.
The familiar twinge of sorrow made her sit back and pause from her task. But it made it easier to do what she needed to do, to put up a wall distancing herself from those around her.
As with anything, news spread instantly that there was a new teacher and dinner was a tumble of students trying to scope her out without being what they considered to be obvious. They jostled her and stood on tiptoes to see her. Before too long Izabelle looked at the Professor and Jean, whom she was eating with. "Pardon me."
And, stepping carefully, Izabelle stood on her chair. There were shouts to other people in the room before all were looking at her and all sound died down. Some students and some adults were flat out gaping at her. A short hairy man was squinting at her like he couldn't believe his eyes. Izabelle concealed her smile.
"My name is Izabelle Rowan." The dining hall door opened and she met eyes with Hank; it caused her to falter uncertainly but she continued. "I am a new teacher here and I thought I would make it easier for the less subtle among you to see me. I am sure most of you will be seeing me again shortly." She gave a wry smile and then jumped lightly down to the floor. There was approving laughter and some of the room clapped. Xavier looked amused and Jean was laughing.
"They won't soon forget you now."
She began to respond to the red-head when a familiar voice sounded at her elbow. "Is this seat taken? Or should I save it for those who would like to admire you more closely?"
She turned to face him, blushing slightly. Izabelle had wound her hair up tightly and changed to a dress shirt and glasses. She looked older this way and very much more like a teacher. Now Hank wasn't sure how old she was.
"On one condition." Hank looked surprised and began to pick his things back up. "You must be willing to admire me if necessary."
He laughed, showing sharp white teeth, and replaced his things. "That is a task I am sure I can manage. But only if necessary, mind you."
Izabelle kicked herself. Flirting is not keeping your distance! But despite her self-ridicule, giddiness crept in.
Xavier let Hank settle in before getting right to the point. "Given the nature of Izabelle's mutation, time is of the essence. From what she says, each loss of control results in a more powerful and lasting memory wipe. Jean and I believe that at it's most potent, Izabelle may be able to wipe memories entirely, not just memories of her. Obviously, we do not want that to happen. Would you mind taking her down and running some basic bloodwork and tests after dinner?"
"Anything to help."
As soon as he finished his meal, the two of them headed into the confines of the basement and his laboratory. Her small light footsteps were a nice addition to his own usually silent padding around down here. He left her to seat herself on a med ward bed as he prepared vials and needles.
"I hope you are okay with needles. I will need to take several different samples."
"I don't mind."
They waited in silence until Hank came over to her with his things. "If you don't mind my asking, how much do you know about any possibilities of a control or cure?"
She looked away as he began to take blood. He did not question it; being okay with needles is not the same as wanting to watch them.
Izabelle answered readily, which he had not expected. "Unfortunately not much. I've done various low level tests and even spoken to other mutants. I did not want to go further in my self-experimentation for fear of erasing myself permanently. The mutants I talked to, mostly telepaths, only said that it could be controlled somehow, but none could tell me more than that."
Hank was impressed. She had put real effort into finding a way to deal with her mutation. He was curious what sorts of tests she had done and reminded himself to inquire about that further.
"How often does..." Hank couldn't find the right word but Izabelle was nodding, knowing what he meant.
"There isn't a pattern that I can find. Some things do seem to act as triggers though: stress, high emotion, and the usual." That explained the total calm that she exuded. To some extent it was probably forced to keep her powers in check.
Izabelle felt herself getting light headed but ignored the feeling. It would be over soon and she was always a little weird about these sorts of things.
"How has this unpredictability effected your relationships?"
"I don't have relationships." Her unoccupied hand flew to her face, biting a nail and speaking around it. "After knowing someone for months and then suddenly losing control again...to have to convince someone that they once cared about you or knew you at all...It was not worth it."
"I can understand your motivations in moving here, then." Hank felt sorry for her. He hadn't meant to upset her. She, like him, was locked out from normal relationships by her mutation.
She gnawed on her nail distractedly until she noticed him watching her. She instantly whipped her hands back down. "Sorry." She smiled bashfully. She put a hand to her head as he removed the last needle. Maybe she should have said something.
And then, as soon as Hank capped the last vial, she fell slowly forward, off of the medical bed. Hank made a quick dash and caught her clumsily. She had acted fine!
Even as he tried to adjust his hold on her, her eyes fluttered and she struggled to hold her own weight.
"Easy." Hank carefully lifted her and set her back on the raised bed, her feet swinging in the air. Izabelle could feel him holding her there, safe, and waited for the fog to clear out of her brain.
"Why didn't you say anything?" To Izabelle, his voice betrayed concern she did not expect.
"It needed to be done. This generally happens but I'm always fine." She sounded as fuzzy as she felt.
They both waited a few minutes and she was soon able to hold herself up normally. Hank shook his head at her but did not chastise her.
"I do know what I'm doing."
Hank raised an eyebrow. "Oh do you?"
"If I had said anything you would have gotten one half of one sample every time you tried. I'm not a doctor but I've done this before."
He could not help but smile at her. If she was right…then she probably had made the right decision. But he wasn't about to let her know that.
Hank leaned her carefully against the wall behind where she sat and went to put her blood samples in the spinners and added dyes. "Have you ever had an EKG?" he called over his shoulder.
"No. Am I going to now?"
"If you don't mind. I think it might help." Hank held out some sticky tabs with metal bits on them. "I'll have to place these on your...chest." He stumbled over the word, blushing a little. "Again, if you do not mind. I can get Jean or-"
But she was laughing quietly at him. "It's fine! I trust you."
Hank finished placing the blood samples and trying to shake off the strange feeling he had. He was a doctor! He had placed EKG tabs on women before without batting an eye. And here he was acting like some fifteen-year-old who had never seen a woman's chest before, blushing all over the place and tripping over himself!
Hank shook his head at himself and turned to face Izabelle. It was all he could to restrain himself from staring open-mouthed. She was calmly unbuttoning her blouse less than a foot away from him. He tried very hard to act the part of the gentleman, but she was perfectly endowed and right in front of him.
Izabelle looked up and saw him turning purple. She stared in confusion before realizing what was perplexing him. Laughter exploded from her.
Now Hank was embarrassed and confused. Izabelle tried to collect herself recognizing his growing frustration with her mirth.
"I [giggle] I have [giggle]" She collected herself in a deep breath. Some hair had become displaced and hung in a loose curl in her face. "I have tank top on under this. I thought it would be easier if I moved my blouse. I'm so sorry! I should have said something before..."
Now it was Hank's turn to laugh. That certainly explained her behavior. But beneath the relief there was something else, a prickly uncomfortable feeling.
They both collected themselves back into their professional fronts and he, still blushing furiously, placed the EKG tabs on her chest.
Izabelle took the time to examine him while he was in such close proximity. She loved his glasses; the classic pince nez was very attractive and seemed to latch on to the deep humanity within the outer form. And despite the sharp and fierce claws and huge hands, he had a very gentle touch.
She screamed at herself to cut it out before she "went there" in her brain. You're not 15 anymore she scolded herself You have responsibilities, like not getting involved.
Hank was relieved when the whole thing was done. He feared his fur would be permanently purple.
Izabelle's EKG was normal and the blood samples would not be done until the next day so he respectfully looked away as she rebuttoned her blouse.
A small hand wrapped around his forearm and she turned him back to her. Her huge round eyes were smiling up at him "Thank you."
"I can't imagine what for. I've embarrassed myself half to death."
"For helping me with all of this: past, present, and future." She gave him a wave and headed upstairs on her own.
As soon as she was gone, Hank McCoy – Hank the always in control and always refined – began knocking his head against a wall.