I do not own X-Men anything.

You'd think I'd run out of words by now. You'd be wrong.

Reaching Out

Chapter 26: Just You and I

"Is this yours?"

They were all alone, seconds after closing their hotel door and Hope was holding out a small brown toiletries bag found among the several they had generously tipped the wait staff for bringing up to their honeymoon suite. Hank shook his head.

"No, I thought it was yours."

Hope shrugged.

"Nope. Never seen it."

Hank noticed a tag dangling off the small bag. He grasped it and read it out loud.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hank and Hope McCoy."

They both blushed a little from their new titles.

He took the bag from her curiously and unzipped it. As he did, the contents spilled out. Many of them. Small, crinkly, cellophane squares. Dozens of them. Maybe nearing the hundreds.

His face colored instantly.

Condoms. Of differing sizes, textures, and colors.

Hope burst into laughter then bent down and retrieved a piece of paper that had been stuck into the middle of the pile.

It was simply worded.

'Have a great honeymoon! ~ The Guys

Hank blanched further.

I'm going to kill them all.

Hope picked one square up.

"Glow in the Dark, Jumbo Size," she read aloud, laughter once again coloring her voice. "Well, these must be yours."

Hank thought he might die on the spot.

"I didn't do this," he said instantly, nearing a fantastic shade of burgundy.

Hope quirked an eyebrow at him, a teasing smile upon her face.

"Well, obviously, loverboy."

Hank tried not to stutter.

This is not how I anticipated this going. This is not smooth at all.

"But, uh, I guess that's good because I forgot about, uh, protection."

He sheepishly started to reach for the small package in her hand, but Hope tossed it over her shoulder, grinning devilishly.

"Nope. No way, loverboy. I don't need that kind of protection from you."

Hank felt confused.

"What?"

Hope shrugged.

"Already taken care of."

She reached out, grasped his thin tuxedo tie, pulled him close, and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him into a series of slow, tantalizing kisses.

"See, I've waited this long to get this close to you . . ."

Kiss.

". . . and now that I've got you . . ."

Kiss.

". . . I don't want anything to come between us."

Kiss.

"But . . . how?" Hank murmured.

Kiss.

"Now that, my husband . . ."

Kiss.

". . . is not sexy talk at all . . ."

Kiss.

". . . but this . . ."

Kiss.

". . .is. Take off those glasses . . .

Kiss.

". . . and come here."

And so he did.

Then he forgot all about his embarrassment and the dozens of little square packages littering the floor.

And it turned out to be a very good decision indeed.

Hank McCoy was a reserved man by nature and practice. Hope had always known that and had chosen to accept and appreciate it as part of his personality.

Now alone within those four walls of their honeymoon hotel room with his wonderful, beautiful wife whom he trusted and loved so much, he found he was able to express another facet of himself. With her, her that he had cared for so much that he had overcome his fears and stepped forward and asked her to be his wife. Her with her warm eyes and bright smile and glowing heart and sticky mutant fingers. With her, he found himself finally able to fully express the feelings and desires he had held in check for so very long. Without a hint of embarrassment or shame to mar it. And allow her to express hers for him as well.

With much love, passion, joy, and sometimes, as good relationships are able to have, laughter.

It was a wonderful, glorious set of days for them both.

Though they might have starved to death in the first couple of days if it weren't for the hotel's loyal room service.

Eventually, they ventured out into the world to take in the sights and sounds of the glory of Niagara Falls and its tourist town.

They rode the Maid of the Mist right next to the falls.

"Well, something better be a 'maid' around here," the new wife quipped to her husband. "'Cause I already quit that job."

He blushed terribly as she kissed him and dampened as they both were, he thought he might want to explore that avenue of thought a little further.

So they went back to the hotel room and did.

They stayed out late and first watched the lights of the falls and then the fireworks explode over them. She stood, her body cradled back against his and their arms intertwined around her middle, content and happy together. Until he started feathering her ear and neck with kisses and then they had to leave.

They got their portrait done by a street-style caricature artist. Among other fascinating visuals of the piece, Hope's warm brown eyes were comically huge and Hank's eyebrows decidedly more Vulcan than ever before.

They enjoyed restaurants, art museums, and even a few hikes.

Though they never stayed out their hotel room, or its adjoining bathroom, for very long.

He was asleep. And dreaming. And he knew it.

Because there were Sentinels there. And he knew there were no Sentinels.

Not yet anyway.

From out of thin air, Hope's voice called out to him. Though he could not see her anywhere. It sounded dreamy as if she were asleep too.

"Hank, you're furry."

Yeah, okay. I'll trim in the morning, Hope.

And again.

"Hank, you're furry."

Hope, I don't have time right now. That's a very sensitive area, you know, and I don't want to nick anything down there. Let me finish fighting this Sentinel and I'll get to it.

"Hank, wake up. You're furry."

He woke up then and found that he was indeed blue and furry.

Oh man. I hate when that happens.

He lay still in the dark. Concentrating on regulating his heartbeat, slowing his breathing, and putting the beast back in its cage.

Hope's arms wrapped around his body and felt her kiss his cheek.

"You okay?" she asked sleepily.

He reached out and hugged her.

"Yeah, sorry I woke you up."

She kissed him again.

"It's okay."

She sleepily kissed his face and stroked his fur. He let her, starting to slid back into sleep.

Until her kisses and caresses changed their tone.

And all of him woke back up.

He tried to halt her kisses, to reach over into the bedside table for his backup stash of injection needles.

"Wait, I need my serum."

She gently pulled him back to lay flat on his back and snuggled atop him.

"Not just yet."

He tried to make her understand as he looked up at her lovely face, her dark hair curtaining their faces.

"But I can't . . . I can't go back on my own right now. . ."

Hope nuzzled him seductively even as her hands continued along their wandering paths.

"It's okay, loverboy, relax. I love all of you and this is just part of you."

He clenched up a little, uncertain and uncomfortable even as Hope continued her tantalizing kisses and caresses, breaking down his weakening resolve.

"Don't worry, you're not going to hurt me and it's not going to become a fetish. I just want to try it."

So he let her try it, this woman he loved and trusted so much.

As it turned out, they were both glad she did.

They obtained several souvenirs while on their trip.

One set in particular, were very, very special.

And though they shared their pictures and souvenirs with the others upon their return to Xavier Manor, there was one set that was shared with no one but each other.

Special, everlasting tokens.

In case the wedding rings ever became too cumbersome, what with Hope's sticky fingers and Hank's blue, furry alter ego, they came up with a contingency plan.

It was Hope's idea actually.

They went together. Took turns holding each other's hand during the procedure.

And it hurt.

But now when the tender skin had healed, the pain was all gone.

And their eternal tokens remained.

It was her first and only tattoo. And his.

Hank's was small, written plainly in blue, and read "For Gecko". Located far south of his belly button.

She liked to run her fingertips and lips over it.

Hope's was small, written plainly in blue, and read "For Beast". Located far south of her belly button.

He liked to run his fingertips and lips over it.

Both tattoos were outlined in orange.

Their little secret.

On the morning of the seventh day, she awoke with soft rays of sunlight filtering through the covered window.

He was awake too, laying still and quiet. Hair mussed, eyes half open. Watching the light play shadows across her beautiful face.

Wrapped in his arms, enjoying the feel of their unadorned bodies pressed together, Hope murmured the first words of the morning.

"Well, we slept a little late. I suppose we should get going home."

He smiled mischievously and pulled her even closer.

"Mmm, no, not just yet."

She let him convince her to stay where they were a little longer.

And was happy she did.

They both were.

Almost ten years too early for 'Just You and I' by Eddie Rabbit and Crystal Gayle (whom I met as a child), but the song still fits for the title anyway. :)

Okay, a little explanation here in order here. This is not a chapter about sex (well, mostly not, they're married, shut up!) it's a chapter about accepting all different aspects of who you are and finding someone who does as well. And being happy and content.

And it's about sex. ;)

And no, Hope does not have a thing for bestiality. She has a thing for Hank.

Yeah, yeah. I watch InkMaster. These tattoos would not be impressive. Except to Hank and Hope, right? *winks

Thanks to HelloILikeIt (who's powered thru this trilogy like a mad taxi driver, wow, thanks sweetie and I always check all my reviews on all my stories and say thank you in the last chapter to anyone who reviewed after it was completed), ChiefPam, MoonlitShadowsoftheHumanSoul, Aletta-Feather, I've Been a Labrat (who's just SO understanding *winks), X . Kuchisake - Onna . X. and brigid1318 for hanging in there.

Well, I guess we'd better go back to the Manor for one last chapter. Charles has a little announcement.