Author's note: Thank you to ZabuzasGirl, NotMarge, NicoleR85, Rasha007, partygirl98, Luna von Rae, ss, Jinxofthe2ndLaw, Shelllee24, Em, kmj1989 and NerGirl101 for the reviews! Holy crap, guys! Wow. Just wow. I love you all! Rasha, you're not annoying me! I'm just showing off, hehe.

Like today, the quote Zoey says is attributed to Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont, the author of the most well-known version of Beauty and the Beast. I wanted to see the quote in context, so I actually bought the story and read it. And guess what? The quote's not in there! I felt rather cheated, to be honest.

Also, just a head's up: I'm not going to be posting on Christmas, even though I know it's when I should be updating next. I'm just going to have too much going on the next few days, so I'm sorry. Please bear with me! But anyway, chapter seventy-one will be posted on Saturday. I hope everyone has a merry Christmas!

The Heart of a Man

The man spoke loud enough that his voice carried across the entire tiny shop.

I felt every pair of eyes in the room sweep over to burn holes in the back of my head as the echo of his statement faded from the air. Even the patrons who had warily tolerated my presence for the past several minutes were now probably expecting me to turn around and rip the man's arms off or something.

Billy frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but I quickly shook my head.

There was no need for him to possibly lose business over me by so overtly taking my side in this situation. Not if I could avert a messy scene before it even started.

I turned slowly, trying not to make any sudden movements. "I'm sorry, sir," I said politely. "I'm not quite ready to order yet. Please, go ahead."

The man sneered at me as I stepped aside for him.

He was middle-aged and balding, and something about the lines on his face spoke to the fact that he was no stranger to frowning or all around surliness in general.

"Can you believe they let something like that in town?" he commiserated to Billy, jerking his head towards me like I wasn't standing right there.

My fists clenched, but otherwise I gave no outward sign of the turmoil raging in my soul. I knew this would happen eventually, but that didn't mean I welcomed the derision.

It hurt- of course it did- to be treated like some sort of lesser being who didn't even warrant basic courtesy, a creature who couldn't understand the venomous words being thrown my way. It was time to start developing a thick skin, apparently.

"I don't have a problem with him," Billy responded in a cold voice.

"Really?" the man demanded incredulously. He seemed genuinely surprised that his rancor was not shared.

Oh, no. Here we go.

"No. Now, are you going to order, sir, or not?" Billy asked testily.

"Look at it, though," the newcomer persisted, turning towards me and eyeing me with evident disdain. "It's some kind of monster or something. How do we know he doesn't go around at night and-"

"'There is many a monster who wears the form of a man; it is better of the two to have the heart of a man and the form of a monster,"' Zoey cut in, suddenly appearing at my side.

She slipped her arm into mine and looked at the ignorant bigot in front of us with cool contempt.

"Zoey-" I pleaded, feeling very mindful of the way everyone in the shop was watching us with rapt attention.

"I think we can tell which category you fall into," she continued, choosing to ignore me.

I knew exactly what she was thinking. "If this guy wants to start problems, I will finish them. With gusto."

Have I mentioned that my wife scared me sometimes? In a good way, though.

"Especially considering how you walked in here and started insulting someone who was politely minding their own business. If he really was the 'monster' you claim him to be, he would've back-handed you across the room by now," Zoey scolded. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

The man gaped at her, open-mouthed, as his eyes darted from the possessive way Zoey clutched at my arm to the swell of her belly. Though she was only eleven weeks along, Zoey's pregnancy had already become rather obvious given her petite frame and the fact that she was carrying twins.

His expression quickly morphed into one of disgust.

"You're the one who should be ashamed," he hissed.

And then he spat at my wife's feet.

I'll give myself some credit here. My hand twitched, ready to grab him by the throat and throw him through the front window, but I managed to stop myself.

As it was, my lips curled to reveal my fangs as I told him through gritted teeth, "that was completely uncalled for. You need to apologize."

"Why don't you make me, monster?" he taunted, trying to goad me further.

"Alright, that's enough," Billy snapped before I could reply. "Get out."

"Me?" the man asked blankly. He looked completely shocked. After all, he was the human-looking one here- apparently he thought that put him in the right by default.

"Yes, you," Billy replied. "You're causing a disturbance. Now get out of my shop."

"But-"

"Out," Billy ordered. "Or do I need to call the cops?"

"Fine. But I'm definitely not coming back here again," the man spat out. "And I'll make sure to tell everyone I know to avoid your mutant-loving business from now on."

"You do that," Billy retorted. "I don't want to serve ignorant bigots, anyway."

His next words were spoken to the room at large.

"And anyone else who has a problem with mutants can leave now, too," he declared.

The intruder scoffed, spun on his heel and stalked out the door, purposely knocking over a stand of coffee beans on the way. The little bags went flying and scattered all over the floor.

Zoey immediately moved to go pick up the mess, but I gently stopped her.

"Go finish picking out your book, sweetheart," I said, my voice carefully controlled. "If you don't mind, I want to go home."

She nodded mutely and went back to the bookcases.

"I'll get it, Mr. Rivers," I told him.

After all, the disturbance was basically my fault, because of my presence here. And now Billy might lose business because of me...

I silently seethed over all of it as I picked up the bags of coffee beans. The only thing that kept me from flying to pieces over the whole situation was the fact that none of the patrons in the shop took Billy up on his ultimatum.

Actually, the only person who left afterwards- just as I was finishing with the clean up- stopped on the way out and handed me a bag I'd missed.

"Missed one," he said, with a friendly smile. "And just so you know- if I was you, I would've punched that asshole in the face. Good for you for being the better person."

The better person. He'd called me a person.

For a moment I could only stare at him disbelievingly. But then I recovered myself.

"Th-thank you," I stammered.

"No problem."

I trudged back over to the counter once I was done.

"I'm really sorry," I told Billy.

He waved off the apology. "Don't be, kid. You're fine. That prick started it."

I still saw a flicker of worry in his faded blue eyes, despite the reassurance. I'm sure it was reflected in my own expression.

Watching Zoey go toe-to-toe with a mutant-hating bigot was deeply upsetting, though she'd more than held her own. I hated that she had to go through that, for me.

Theoretically, I'd thought I was prepared to handle it. But seeing her fight for me first-hand, having someone treat her with such disrespect...

Is she better off without me?

The thought made my blood run cold as we drove home, and didn't fade as I set about cooking dinner- fettuccine alfredo, which (surprise) Zoey would be placing between two pieces of Italian bread.

"What's wrong, darling?" Zoey asked after we sat down to eat. She looked at me with obvious disquiet. "Are you mad at me?"

Her question pulled me out of my melancholy musings immediately. "What? Of course not," I replied incredulously. "Why would I be?"

"Because I butted in and basically took over that entire situation instead of letting you handle it," she explained sheepishly. "You may take that stuff lying down, but I can't."

"I'm not mad at you, Zoey."

Just rethinking whether or not I can stand putting you through all of this.

"Then what's wrong, Hank?" she pressed, her concern growing. "Talk to me."

I looked down at my plate, unable to bring myself to say it. To even suggest to Zoey that while she might be strong enough to deal with this, I couldn't bear to watch.

But apparently I didn't have to, because realization quickly dawned on her face as I struggled to find the words.

"Don't you dare," Zoey whispered, putting down the remains of her pasta sandwich. "Hank- don't you dare hate yourself for any of this. I can handle it, so don't fret about that, ok? I'm not going anywhere, and you can't make me."

I nodded noncommittally, though her words were slowly working their magic on me.

Truly, how dare I try to say what was "best" for Zoey? Only she could decide that. Even if watching her shield me from the world's hatred made me sick to my stomach, I would never have the right to tell her she was better off without me, that she should leave.

Being apart was even more unacceptable. To both of us.

She reached out and took my hand in hers, threading our fingers together. Her eyes were luminous, bathing me in that special warmth only she possessed.

"You're worth it, you know," Zoey said seriously. "All of it. I'm so proud of you, Hank. You're much stronger than you give yourself credit for. I mean, you were amazing today. The way you just took it from that guy without lashing out? I know I was a split second from lighting his hair on fire, but what you did, that's the way to win people's hearts and minds."

I almost wanted to protest, but then I remembered the man who'd stopped to speak to me on his way out of the shop.

Good for you, for being the better person...

"You know, I've been thinking," Zoey began hesitantly. "You said you wanted to change the world, right? For our babies?"

"Yes," I agreed warily.

"Well, did you ever consider becoming an activist or a lobbyist for mutant rights?"

I blinked.

"Think about it, darling," Zoey reasoned. "You're intelligent, kind, and honest. We could use more public figures like you, don't you think? And you have a physical mutation. You'd be a perfect representative for mutants everywhere."

It was difficult not to laugh in her face at the very suggestion.

Me? Some sort of "poster boy" for mutant rights? I could barely speak to a classroom of children, let alone a crowd of strangers. There was no way I could ever do such a thing.

Was there?

"Let's just focus on getting the people of this town to tolerate me, first," I murmured. "This was just one incident. There's no need to get ahead of ourselves."

Zoey nodded, acquiescing to my obvious reluctance.

One of the (many) things I loved about her was how supportive she always was of my decisions. She wasn't going to push me into anything I didn't want to do. And I didn't want to be some sort of mutant rights activist.

Yet.