Author's note: Thank you to NotMarge, kmj1989, partygirl98, and anonymouscsifan for the reviews! So for today- everybody remember Hank's nightmare about Zoey freaking out over Beast? This is what actually happened on the night he has his nightmare, before his subconscious took the real events and twisted them all up. Hank suspects how Zoey feels about their problems, but I thought it would be good to see from her POV. She's miles away from Hank's thinking, and she has no idea. Hence the name :-(


Trouble in Paradise

Six wonderful months passed- the happiest six months I could ever remember living. And it all came down to the presence of Hank in my life.

Because of him, Olivia was now thriving in school, making friends and learning how to control her telepathy. I'd made new friends through him as well. Sean, his girlfriend Maeve, Charles, Moira and even Alex were now my friends, something that wouldn't have happened had I not met Hank.

And then, of course, there was our actual relationship. He healed my heart without even trying, helped me move on from my grief over my dad. There were still days that I thought about him, yes, but it was with fondness rather than with sadness. For the first time in a long while I was thinking of the future, rather than dwelling on the past.

I fell more and more deeply in love with Hank as the months flew by. I loved how he opened doors for me and how he sat patiently while I watched football, even though he didn't really care for the sport much. He was a fantastic listener, and always seemed to be able to tell when I actually wanted advice or just needed to vent to someone about work.

He was the most wonderful man I'd ever met. He made me happy, and I did everything I could to make him happy in return. I liked to think I was succeeding in that regard.

And yet... as the months passed, and the love between us grew, I felt the weight of Hank's secret weighing down on both of us.

All I could to was wait, and hope, that one day he would trust me enough to show me Beast.


On a typically cold day in February, Hank sat himself comfortably on the couch watching television while I baked some cookies for fun. He'd lived up to his promise all those months ago and taught me how to bake, even though I still couldn't cook much else.

In a little bit I was going to humor him and play a game of chess or two before we curled up in front of the fire, which kept the February chill at bay. We were in for a very nice evening of just being together.

Everything was wonderful... except for the fact that all my cookies kept disappearing.

It seemed like every time I pulled out a batch, a third of them would vanish without a trace. At first I thought I was imagining it, but then I took the time to count them out before turning my back on them.

And when I looked again, I was missing four cookies.

"Where are all my cookies going?" I asked blankly.

My gaze turned towards Hank, the only other person in the apartment. He shifted guiltily as I stared at the back of his head, like he could feel me scowling at him while he pretended to watch television.

Blasted cookie thief.

"Hank!" I yelled, stomping over to stand next to the sofa.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he asked, glancing up at me with an innocent expression.

It wasn't fair, how cute he was.

I knew he was the one who stole those cookies, but those big baby blues looking at me from behind his nerdy-looking glasses made me doubt myself. "Would I lie to you?" they seemed to ask.

Hmm...

If he was going to plead ignorance, I needed definitive proof of his guilt.

So I stopped glaring at him and leaned down to kiss him instead.

He responded immediately, of course. Neither of us could really resist the opportunity to thoroughly kiss the other, and I reveled in the power I had over him- the same power he had over me. If anything, my attraction to him had only deepened over the passing months.

Now whenever Hank kissed me I completely melted and forgot everything that was going on around me. My heart always started pounding in my chest, like it was going to burst into flames from the pure exhilaration of being so close to him.

His hand reached up to stroke my cheek, sending delicious little pinpricks along my skin. I bit his lip, and his tongue sneaked into my mouth-

I immediately pulled away, though it was extremely difficult. "Stop stealing cookies, Hank!" I scolded triumphantly, poking him in the chest.

"What?" he asked, still pretending ignorance.

"Oh, stop it. I can taste them on your breath."

He'd been caught and he knew it, if his expression was anything to go by.

"You were kissing me for investigative purposes? I'm wounded," Hank teased, with feigned injury. "They're delicious, Zoey, so I can't help it. My compliments to your baking skills."

I rolled my eyes, but his flattery was working its magic. I couldn't resist a compliment like that, especially about something I'd worked so hard to learn how to do. He pressed his advantage and pulled me down into his lap while I fought back a smile.

"Maybe I had a good teacher," I said mischievously, making myself comfortable. I loved being on his lap- it made it easier to kiss him senseless.

Hank grinned and pulled me in for another kiss, this one slow and intense. One of his hands came up to thread through my hair to hold me in place. I moaned as his tongue started to tease mine and adjusted myself, so I was straddling his lap instead. His fingers traced along my skin and he pulled me closer still.

I never thought I could feel this way about someone.

Everything about Hank McCoy was appealing to me- his intelligence, his patience, the sweetness with which he treated me that somehow complemented, rather than contradicted, the passion with which he kissed me. Sometimes it scared me, how much I wanted him.

Everywhere he touched me felt like it was on fire. Our kisses were languid and feverish, building up a slow burn that would consume us both.

Hank moved away from my mouth to leave a trail of soft kisses up my neck. I squirmed in delight and dug my fingers into his hair, bringing his lips back to mine for another passionate kiss-

And then he pulled away from me, abruptly breaking off the kiss and interrupting our little make out session.

His breathing was ragged and he had a tight grip on my waist, a silent warning not to move.

It was a warning I didn't need anymore. I knew the drill by now- me moving against his lap in any way, or even reaching out to touch him made it harder to rein himself in. And I respected him too much to try to undermine his efforts in that regard, so I stayed still. I couldn't bring myself to sabotage his self-control and force him to show me Beast.

Hank kept his eyes closed as he took deep, calming breaths to bring himself back under control.

I waited quietly, experiencing the same unreasonable sense of hurt and resentment I felt every time he pulled away from me like this.

He started it! I unfairly fumed in my head.

Even though I knew Hank had his reasons, that he really did want me like that, it still reflexively, automatically stung. I was human, after all. We're not always rational beings.

What stung even worse was the fact that Hank still didn't trust me enough to show me his Beast form, even after all this time. It was a major road block to any further progress in our relationship, and I worried about it sometimes alone in the dark, at night after Hank went home.

Did this mean he didn't see a future with me? After all, I knew Beast would be an inevitable part of our lives if we wanted more physical intimacy. And by now I could honestly see myself being with Hank for the rest of my life.

But it seemed like he didn't think I could still love him after seeing his feral half, and that scared me.

I did my best not to think about it most of the time, and instead focused on the present. How much we loved each other, how happy we made each other. But that didn't stop the niggling thoughts in the back of my head from festering like splinters.

No. Hank loves me, and he'll show me Beast some day, I told myself firmly. He just needs more time, that's all.

Hank finally opened his eyes, now calm once more.

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly, just like always.

"It's fine," I replied. The words were stiff, like I was reciting them by rote and didn't even mean them anymore.

But I knew getting frustrated at him would accomplish nothing. It would just make him defensive, and that wouldn't help the situation at all. This was a decision he had to make on his own.

Patient.

I kept telling myself that I had to be patient, and eventually he would trust me. The doubting voices in my head needed to shut up.

"I love you," I murmured, trying to make up for my snippy tone.

Hank leaned in to press a chaste kiss to my forehead. "I love you," he told me fervently.

He was telling the truth, I knew he was. I could see it in his eyes when he said the words, every kiss and caress he gave me. Hank loved me with all his heart.

I removed myself from his lap and snuggled against his side instead, closing my eyes and breathing in his fresh, clean scent. Hank held me close, burying his nose in my hair.

Just enjoy the moment right now. He'll show me eventually.

I had to believe that, because I refused to even consider the alternative.

Losing Hank didn't bear thinking of.