Author's note: Thank you to ZabuzasGirl, NicoleR85, NotMarge, Pyromagmapath, partygirl98, Bamboooozled, Luna von Rae, kmj1989, and Jinx of the 2nd Law for the reviews! I'm glad that interview was well received. Today we kinda take a break from the heavy for a beat, getting the reactions of Hank's friends. So nothing big happens, but I think you guys will find the end of this chapter to be very sweet :-)

Can't Stop, Won't Stop

"I didn't know you had it in you," Alex crowed jubilantly, punching me in the shoulder. "That was awesome!"

Then he winced, because apparently my deltoid was harder than his knuckles.

I did have muscles, after all. They were just hidden by all the poofy fur. Alex always seemed to forget that.

"Dammit, Beast. Why'd you let me do that?"

I rolled my eyes, but quickly became serious. "Do you really think it went alright?"

"No, I'm lying to you," Alex replied sarcastically. "Why can't you just shut up and take a compliment?"

"Be nice," Gwen scolded, glaring at her boyfriend.

Her expression became much kinder when she looked at Zoey and I, sitting together on a sofa in Charles' study.

"You were amazing, guys," she said sincerely.

Zoey and I had just made our triumphant return back to the Institute later that day, for the purpose of commiserating with the others on how the interview went. Alex, Sean, Charles, Moira, Gwen and Maeve had all been eagerly waiting for us to give their impressions of our television appearance.

Though both of us had the feeling we came across well during the interview, we had agreed to reserve judgment until we got a second opinion from our friends.

Ok, that's a lie.

Zoey was absolutely convinced that I had been adroit and eloquent, speaking with perfect sincerity and integrity. I had put forth both emotional and logical arguments that were sure to win people over all across the country.

Such was my wife's way of thinking.

In the mean time, I worried and fretted about the impression we made. Had it been enough? Had we changed anyone's minds? Were there mutants who would now be more open about what they were now? Had I been a good representative for our kind?

On and on the questions ran through my head, like a dog circling around and chasing its own tail.

"Didn't you see the look on everyone's faces afterwards? That mutant producer's expression?" Zoey asked rhetorically on the way home. "You were perfect, darling."

I fear you might be a little biased, my love.

She always believed in me so completely. Unfortunately, this time I needed the reassurance from an outside source.

"I think you did fantastic," Moira commented. "It was a good idea to admit that some mutants can do bad things, rather than trying to pretend that it never happens. It shows your honesty."

"Yeah," Sean agreed. "But then the way you said there's already mutants out there, minding their own business- that was a nice touch. Just reminding them we don't pop out of the ground like gnomes when you think of us or something. We already exist."

Thanks for that hilarious mental image, Sean.

"I liked how happy you seemed whenever you looked at each other," Maeve offered sweetly. "It was adorable. It was so obvious how much you two love each other. How can anyone hate someone capable of that sort of feeling, right? Especially when you mentioned the twins. Your expression was so cute! You looked like a cuddly teddy bear, Hank."

Zoey laughed and snuggled against my side, while my cheeks instantly warmed and turned purple.

It's not that I was embarrassed of my love for Zoey- not at all. But I wasn't sure if it was a good thing to have people gushing over our feelings for each other when we really wanted people to listen to what we had to say.

Then again, maybe we should be happy with any kind of positive emotions we evoke with the general public and not complain. Being compared to a cuddly teddy bear is better than being called a frightening monster, I suppose.

I hopefully turned towards Charles, who had thus far remained silent. What did he think of our first real foray into public relations?

He grinned. "I knew you could do it," he said simply. "You were absolutely superb."

I let out a mental sigh of relief. Their opinions were unanimously positive, and now I could relax.

Just a little.

Zoey nudged me playfully. "See? I told you so."

Charles chuckled. "Yes, Hank. Haven't you learned by now to always listen to your wife?"

We didn't stay too long after that, pleading exhaustion. Waking up at two o'clock in the morning to drive to the City for the interview was really starting to catch up with us.

"How does lunch and a nap when we get home sound?" I murmured to Zoey on our way out.

"Sounds amazing," she replied, squeezing my arm.

"Auntie! Auntie! Uncle Hank!" a female voice called out from down the hall behind us.

We turned to see Olivia hurtling towards us, her coltish limbs flying all over and a huge grin on her face. Chloe followed behind her at a more measured pace.

Our niece flung herself at both of us, pulling Zoey and I into a three-way hug as she spoke in a breathless rush.

"You guys were awesome, everybody in my class was cheering for you- actually, I think the whole school did- Auntie you looked so pretty and strong, I'm so proud that I'm related to you- my God, Uncle Hank, I've never even heard you talk that much in my life!"

"Breathe, Livie," Zoey laughed. "Breathe."

At this point Chloe reached us. "You were both amazing," she said warmly, embracing Zoey and I each in turn.

It said a lot for how far she'd come that she didn't flinch at all.

I had a feeling Olivia had a lot to do with that- or perhaps just working at Xavier's in general had forever cured her of her aversion to mutant kind. In a way, Chloe Grey was the perfect example of a human's journey towards acceptance for mutants.

"What happens now?" she asked curiously.

"We do more interviews," Zoey replied, glancing at me.

We'd already discussed this between us and laid out a tentative plan, relying mainly on Zoey's brilliant intuition and business sense. It brought to mind the old adage that "behind every successful man there is a strong, wise woman."

"Or I should say, Hank will do more interviews, as long as people keep asking. Maybe he can raise some awareness and general good will while we've got the public's attention."

Chloe nodded slowly, looking rather hopeful.

"Oh, before I forget," Zoey added. "We got you something, Livie."

She dug around in her purse and pulled out a piece of paper.

It was a quick little note Barbara Walters had kindly penned for us, after I mentioned that my niece was a big fan of hers and wanted to be a journalist one day.

"'To Olivia- Don't be afraid to follow your dreams, and don't ever let anyone tell you no. Sincerely, Barbara Walters,'" she read, her eyes huge with disbelief.

I plugged my ears right before she let out a delighted shriek and started to dance around, just as she did as a child.

Sometimes I think the more things change, the more they stay the same.

"Carry me," Zoey joked pleadingly as I helped her out of the car.

I chuckled. "Are you that tired, sweetheart?"

"No. But my husband has super strength. Might as well enjoy it," she replied cheekily, with a mischievous grin that made my heartbeat speed up.

"Fine," I agreed, sighing in a feigned put-upon manner. I swept her into my arms and picked her up. "As my lady commands."

Zoey giggled as I nuzzled her hair and carried her inside.

I set her to her feet once we were in the kitchen and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

"Grilled cheese?" I guessed.

"That's fine. Could you put pickles in mine?" she asked hopefully.

Pickles on grilled cheese? If that's not vomit-worthy, I don't know what is.

"Pickles?" I kept my tone diplomatic. "You don't even like pickles, Zoey."

She shrugged. "They sound good right now, though."

Um... better not argue with the pregnant lady.

"Ok, sure. Whatever you want, darling," I told her, readily accepting the kiss she gave me in thanks.

I set to work- pulling out the ingredients (including the dreaded pickles), grabbing a frying pan, buttering bread-

And then Zoey let out a small gasp.

A quick glance over my shoulder sent pure panic coursing through my veins, as my pregnant wife stood there in the middle of the kitchen clutching her stomach with wide, startled eyes.

No no no-

"Zoey!"

I whirled around and immediately darted over to her side, hovering anxiously as I visually checked her over.

"What's wrong? Are the babies-?"

I was so alarmed that it took a few seconds to register that Zoey didn't look upset or in pain at all. In fact, she was smiling.

"Nothing's wrong," she assured me excitedly. "Hank- I can feel them moving! The twins!"

The relief that hit me right then was so powerful I almost passed out. The feeling was quickly followed by an ebullience so strong it was almost painful.

"Really?" I asked, putting my hand under hers on her belly.

Logically, I knew it was too early for me to feel anything- but I couldn't help hoping.

There was probably a stupidly happy grin on my face, but I didn't care. Our babies were growing stronger, and every morning was one more closer to the day we could hold them in our arms.

Zoey nodded, practically glowing with happiness and wonderment.

We stood there in silence for a long moment, waiting for the movement to happen again.

She laughed suddenly. "It feels like I'm being tickled from the inside," Zoey explained, scrunching up her nose at the sensation.

I chuckled and leaned down to kiss her. "I love you," I told her sincerely.

Then I got down on my knees and kissed her tummy. "And I love you, too, my little sea monkeys," I murmured to my children.

Zoey giggled, and her hands came up to stroke my hair as I nuzzled against her belly. I could feel the warmth of her smile spreading along my fingers and toes, even though I couldn't see her face.

It was a perfect family moment, just the four of us.

"We can't wait to meet you. Both of you."