SUMMARY: This is a story involving Hank McCoy. Beast is my fav character, and if you're like me and feel that there is a critical shortage of fanfics involving our favourite fuzzy blue doctor, then this story is for you.
DISCLAIMER: All Marvel characters belong to Marvel, so please don't sue me. Tyger is my own character, and is not meant to resemble any other Tygers, Tigras, etc. in existence - comic book, fanific or otherwise. She is original.
This story can be considered taking place in an alternate universe. The only connection is with the TV series in which Beast actually did go to prison and was pardoned by President Kelly. This story was written before Beast tranformed into his current leonine form and thus has no connection with any of the comic series. Also, this story was co-authored by my husband Tal (which is a pen-name and he never will admit having any connection with this story, but he did write huge portions of it and I cannot out of good conscious claim to be the sole writer of it).
** - speaking telepathically
## - represents thoughts
A TAIL OF TWO BEASTS
CHAPTER 1: A Slight Misunderstanding
Two and half months ago, Dr. Henry (Hank) McCoy had been apprehended and arrested during a raid on the Mutant Control Agency. The persons running the agency had been collecting information on individual mutants, then abducting them for reasons unknown to the X-Men. They had destroyed the files, and Hank had ended up in jail with his bail denied. But now, thanks to a change of heart in once Senator, now President Kelly, Hank had been officially pardoned (probably having something to do with the X-Men saving Kelly's life).
But even though Hank was finally home, he wasn't in the best of spirits. He entered the mansion, hung up his hat and coat, shook himself to settle the fur back into place, and slowly made his way to the library.
Storm, Rogue and Gambit had picked him up and taken him out to lunch to celebrate. They had other activities planned, but Storm had sensed his gray mood and had informed Rogue and Gambit that perhaps it would be best if they postponed the celebrations and let Hank work out his feelings on his own. So they had dropped him off at the mansion and headed off to do some shopping.
Hank had not seen it this way, though. He felt that they were ashamed of him. Who wouldn't be? He had failed. It was bad enough that he had no special powers when compared with the rest of the X-Men. Big hands and feet, and blue fur. Big hairy deal. He had always felt inadequate, as if he wasn't doing his part for the team. He had only his brain to offer, which was a major reason why he spent so much time working in his lab.
He had a lot of time to mull things over in prison. He had berated himself over and over again for allowing himself to be caught, for failing the mission. None of the other X-Men would have let this happen to them. And the bad press he had generated. Xavier's dream was to see humans and mutants living together peacefully. They had to risk life and limb for each major accomplishment which merely placed them one small step further toward their ultimate goal. His ending up in prison had set them back quite a bit. How could they not be disappointed with him?
He continued to mentally berate himself as he wandered down the hallway. It seemed like the mansion was deserted. "They don't even want to face me," he said miserably. Then he forced a chuckle. "You know Blue, thinking like this is madness. They say, I'm down so low that if I cheered up right now, I'd still be depressed. Now I know what they mean." His comment did manage to cheer him up a little, though.
He paused in his wanderings. He had heard a shuffling noise coming from the rec room. His naturally high curiosity was piqued, and he went to investigate.
He set a large, furry hand on the doorknob, and steeled himself for the encounter with whomever was in the room. He resolved that if they truly were ashamed of him, he'd have to face their disappointment sooner or later, and opened the door.
His hands dropped to his sides and his eyes widened with wonder and astonishment.
"OH...my...!..."
The first thing he noticed was the orange fur. The second thing was the orange and black striped tail. Both were dancing and shimmying around the room, oblivious to his presence. The fur's owner spun around, and he saw that her eyes were closed and she was mouthing the words to whatever song was playing on the discman tucked into the waistband of her high-cut denim shorts. She had a feather duster in one hand and a broom in the other, the handle of which she was using as a microphone.
He tried to act, to think, but discovered that his mind had suddenly gone on an unauthorized vacation to somewhere a zillion miles away.
Long, dark orange hair surrounded her face, which was a mixture of human and tiger features (and was not at all unattractive). Her chest was ample and he felt his eyes being helplessly drawn down to the curvaceous hips that swung from side to side in time with the music.
Based on the way she was moving, Hank surmised that she had to be an exotic dancer of some kind. Or maybe it was just her feline influence coming through.
He couldn't stop himself as his eyes followed her every sensuous movement around the room. She was completely uninhibited, simply enjoying the movement of her body as she danced to the music.
A stern voice struggled through the fog in McCoy's brain.
#Say something, you fatuous oaf! Don't just stand there staring at her like some perverted, blue-furred cretin!#
He was about to open his mouth and attempt to say something intelligent when she suddenly lunged to the floor and slid on her knees toward him, legs stretched wide apart and holding the 'microphone' to her mouth. He looked down at her and was unwittingly treated to a full view down the front of her tanktop, right to her navel.
Her eyelids lifted a crack. They widened immensely when she saw the pair of large blue feet in front of her. Slowly, she looked up...waaaaay up. By the time her eyes had reached his face, they were almost bursting their sockets.
Hank blinked. Then he blinked again. "Um....hi?" was all that he could manage to say. #Yes, that was extreeeeeeemly intelligent, Hank.#
A muted, embarrassed whimper escaped her lips which Hank unfortunately mistook for terror.
She swung her knees together with a resounding 'SLAP!'. Both broom and feather duster clattered to the floor as she jumped up onto her feet in a tremendous effort to right herself and bolt out the other door before she died of embarrassment.
* * *
Jubilee was on her way to the rec room to check on Tyger. She and Tyger had been assigned chores as punishment for rollerblading in the house. Jubilee was feeling guilty since it had been her idea in the first place. She had finished scrubbing down the kitchen as fast as she could so she could help Tyger as a way of apologizing for getting Cyclops mad at her.
She was just about to place a hand on the knob when the door suddenly flew open and Jubilee found herself staring dazedly at the ceiling after being slammed to the ground with the force of a bullet train. She blinked a couple of times, trying to regain her senses, and saw Tyger staring down at her in horror. A series of whimpers issued from Tyger as the flighty feline fought to untangle their legs. Upon succeeding, she bolted down the hallway and out of sight, tail straight out and puffed, and leaving Jubilee to wonder just what the heck had happened.
* * *
Hank's feet were still firmly rooted to the floor and he was unable to react when he heard "AAAAACK!!!" followed by a loud THUD! He ran his hand through his hair as he absentmindedly licked his dry lips, attempting to say something to someone who was no longer there.
* * *
Determined to find out what had so upset her friend, Jubilee picked herself up and walked into the rec room to investigate. She saw Hank. Hank was slack-jawed and starry-eyed. Hank was licking his lips.
Rage welled up inside her. #How dare he?!# She clenched her fists, squared her shoulders, and stormed up to him.
"WHAT...DID...YOU...DO?!" she growled through clenched teeth.
Bewilderment crossed Hank's face. "What...?"
"How could you? HOW DARE YOU?!" she was determined to obtain justice for her poor, mistreated friend.
"How dare I what?" he stammered. He became aware of the sparks appearing around Jubilee's clenched fists.
"Of all the people! I can't BELIEVE you, Hank!" The sparks were glowing brighter.
"Um...Jubilee...perhaps it would be best....mayhap you should calm yourself...!"
"Calm myself? Calm YOURself you...you big, blue PERVERT!!!" and with that, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the room.
Hank was left to wonder what exactly he had done to cause all this, and was considering going back to prison where it was much, much quieter with a lot less hassle and things actually made sense.
CHAPTER 2: It's Just One of Those Days
The next day found Hank mulling things over in the library. He was avoiding both the strange feline and Jubilee. He surmised that the strange woman would be avoiding him as well, so he wasn't worrying about another unfortunate encounter. And he was absolutely certain that Jubilee would never go to the library (at least, not on purpose). The room itself was in the shape of a long rectangle with a door at one end and windows lining the long wall on the right, and shelves of books lining the left.
A massive foot rested on the sill of the window closest to the door. He was leaning forward, an elbow on his knee, his chin resting on his fist. He was desperately trying to figure out what had happened the day before, but was failing miserably. He had managed to convince himself he was deeply at fault for something, and wanted desperately to rectify the situation, but he just could not understand what he had done.
He was also feeling very self conscious and depressed because he was absolutely sure he had terrified the poor girl so badly that she had been forced to flee from him. He was as used to this reaction as one could get when it came to humans. But a fellow mutant? Especially one who was as furry as he. This was not helping his fragile ego one little bit.
He was distracted from his thoughts by the sound of bare feet padding softly toward him.
* * *
Tyger had headed straight for her bedroom after the incident, and spent the remainder of the afternoon hiding under her bed.
She was not scared, not in the least. She was just embarrassed completely beyond measure. Jubilee had come looking for her later, but had never thought to look under the bed.
Hunger eventually drove Tyger from her hiding place, and there had been no end to Jubilee's interrogations once she had tracked Tyger down. The girl had seemed convinced that some utterly horrible thing had happened, and no matter how often Tyger tried to assure her that nothing was wrong, no matter how hard she tried to explain to her what had happened, Jubilee just could not be persuaded to forget about the situation.
At the same time, Tyger was feeling very, very guilty for making Jubilee so mad at Hank (as Jubilee had told her was the big blue guy's name). She finally forced herself to get over her embarrassment at what was actually a trivial thing, once she had time to consider it, and made herself look for Hank. She was sure that once she apologized to him, everything would be alright.
She found him in the library. She stood in the doorway, watching him. She did feel a little intimidated by him, as she had never seen anyone like him before. Having gotten her first glimpse of him from the rec room floor, she had painted a portrait of a giant, blue sasquatch in her mind. She had felt like a little child feels when looking up to an adult. But this was a big, blue, furry adult.
She took a deep breath to calm herself, then headed slowly toward him.
* * *
Hank looked up with some trepidation to see Tyger coming toward him. She was wearing a long, bulky t-shirt which was less revealing than the tanktop he had seen her wearing the other day. Unfortunately, it had the effect of accentuating her breasts and they drew his eyes right to them. He blinked, mentally chastised himself, and refocused on her face.
She paused in her steps, annoyed at Hank for staring at her chest. Hank believed that she was hesitating; fearful. She started walking again, came within a meter of him, parted her mouth and raised her hands as if about to say something. But no words came out. She started gesturing with her hands, and moving her mouth a little, but still no sound issued forth.
Hank was certain that she was faltering because she was afraid of him. "I beg your pardon..." he began, then stopped short when he realized that he didn't even know her name. He placed his palms forward in a gesture which he intended to indicate that she had nothing to fear.
A indignant look crossed her face as she began to realize this insensitive person wasn't going to meet her halfway after all. She had made the first move and come down here in order to apologize, and she was being mocked instead. She tried to convey her agitation through the movement of her hands.
What could possibly be the matter with this young woman? Hank thought as he watched her flail her hands. #She is standing there glaring at me, not saying a word, not even telling me what she wants! Is she trying to make a fool of me? Trying to make a scene to gain attention?# "For pity's sake," he stated, making no effort to disguise his agitation. "Just open your mouth and spew forth some words!"
She took a step back, feeling hurt. #Is he so thick that he can't understand that I can't speak? Or is he an insensitive person who just doesn't care?# Her agitation was gradually turning into anger. She patted her neck while silently opening and closing her mouth in an effort to make him understand her plight.
This only served to aggravate Hank further, whose overworked mind was incapable of registering such a simple concept at the moment. He felt that she was now poking fun at him by making ridiculous faces; that she had merely come here to start trouble rather than reconcile yesterday's events. "My dear, do you so lack the fortitude to verbalise your opinions that you cannot utter a single solitary syllable to aid me in my comprehension of the situation at hand?!"
Her brow furrowed as she attempted to make sense of what he had just said. #Is he deliberately using big words to make me feel stupid?# Her emerald green eyes narrowed and a low growl stemming from her frustration rumbled up from her throat.
The hairs on the back of Hank's neck rose in response to the threatening sound. He was nearly overcome by a sudden urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until her words came tumbling out of her mouth. He held back, but could not help clenching and unclenching his fists.
She watched him do this, and suddenly felt panicked. She waved her hand at him in a gesture which, to her, meant 'Stay away from me'. She didn't realize that she was unsheathing her claws in the process.
Hank watched in disbelief as nearly two inch, razor sharp claws erupted from the fingertips of the hand poised before him. Agitation swiftly turned to anger in the face of such an obvious threat. He instinctively raised his own clawed hands, ready to defend himself.
Tyger stepped back, suddenly feeling very frightened but still angry nonetheless. She turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door with such a force that the repercussions shattered the window next to Hank.
Sidestepping flying shards of glass, he firmly decided that the woman had completely lost her mind and he wanted nothing more to do with her...ever.
* * *
The click clack of Rogue's boots could be heard as she was walking along the hallway, whistling a southern tune and swaying her hips along with the music. She stopped short when she heard the library door slam shut. Turning, she saw Tyger coming down the hallway, teeth bared, ears flattened, and tail swishing angrily back and forth. Rogue would have been blind not to see the rage coursing through Tyger, and as the feline stormed past, her fiery southern temper was suddenly, inexplicably ignited. Who could have possibly made Tyger that angry? The swamprat who did this better darn well have a good explanation, she thought to herself as she squared her shoulders and marched up to the library door.
* * *
Hank heard the door open again. "Leave me alone!," he cried, not really caring about what he was saying. He was frustrated, confused, emotionally and mentally exhausted, and his body was still pumped with adrenalin and itching for action. "I'm not in the mood to deal with anyone right now!"
Tyger's fury, combined with the sight of both a shattered window and an angry Beast led Rogue to believe that something very serious had indeed happened.
"What the heck did you jus' do to her?!" she shouted.
Hank spun around and all his hostile feelings fled at the sight of Rogue, eyes blazing, muscles tensed and ready. Remembering Jubilee, all Hank wanted to do was curl up into a little ball as a tiny voice in the back of his head whimpered, Oh, no...not again...
* * *
What do you think? There are more chapters written. Please please PLEASE review and let me know if you are interested in them, and I will post them. Thanks.
DISCLAIMER: All Marvel characters belong to Marvel, so please don't sue me. Tyger is my own character, and is not meant to resemble any other Tygers, Tigras, etc. in existence - comic book, fanific or otherwise. She is original.
This story can be considered taking place in an alternate universe. The only connection is with the TV series in which Beast actually did go to prison and was pardoned by President Kelly. This story was written before Beast tranformed into his current leonine form and thus has no connection with any of the comic series. Also, this story was co-authored by my husband Tal (which is a pen-name and he never will admit having any connection with this story, but he did write huge portions of it and I cannot out of good conscious claim to be the sole writer of it).
** - speaking telepathically
## - represents thoughts
A TAIL OF TWO BEASTS
CHAPTER 1: A Slight Misunderstanding
Two and half months ago, Dr. Henry (Hank) McCoy had been apprehended and arrested during a raid on the Mutant Control Agency. The persons running the agency had been collecting information on individual mutants, then abducting them for reasons unknown to the X-Men. They had destroyed the files, and Hank had ended up in jail with his bail denied. But now, thanks to a change of heart in once Senator, now President Kelly, Hank had been officially pardoned (probably having something to do with the X-Men saving Kelly's life).
But even though Hank was finally home, he wasn't in the best of spirits. He entered the mansion, hung up his hat and coat, shook himself to settle the fur back into place, and slowly made his way to the library.
Storm, Rogue and Gambit had picked him up and taken him out to lunch to celebrate. They had other activities planned, but Storm had sensed his gray mood and had informed Rogue and Gambit that perhaps it would be best if they postponed the celebrations and let Hank work out his feelings on his own. So they had dropped him off at the mansion and headed off to do some shopping.
Hank had not seen it this way, though. He felt that they were ashamed of him. Who wouldn't be? He had failed. It was bad enough that he had no special powers when compared with the rest of the X-Men. Big hands and feet, and blue fur. Big hairy deal. He had always felt inadequate, as if he wasn't doing his part for the team. He had only his brain to offer, which was a major reason why he spent so much time working in his lab.
He had a lot of time to mull things over in prison. He had berated himself over and over again for allowing himself to be caught, for failing the mission. None of the other X-Men would have let this happen to them. And the bad press he had generated. Xavier's dream was to see humans and mutants living together peacefully. They had to risk life and limb for each major accomplishment which merely placed them one small step further toward their ultimate goal. His ending up in prison had set them back quite a bit. How could they not be disappointed with him?
He continued to mentally berate himself as he wandered down the hallway. It seemed like the mansion was deserted. "They don't even want to face me," he said miserably. Then he forced a chuckle. "You know Blue, thinking like this is madness. They say, I'm down so low that if I cheered up right now, I'd still be depressed. Now I know what they mean." His comment did manage to cheer him up a little, though.
He paused in his wanderings. He had heard a shuffling noise coming from the rec room. His naturally high curiosity was piqued, and he went to investigate.
He set a large, furry hand on the doorknob, and steeled himself for the encounter with whomever was in the room. He resolved that if they truly were ashamed of him, he'd have to face their disappointment sooner or later, and opened the door.
His hands dropped to his sides and his eyes widened with wonder and astonishment.
"OH...my...!..."
The first thing he noticed was the orange fur. The second thing was the orange and black striped tail. Both were dancing and shimmying around the room, oblivious to his presence. The fur's owner spun around, and he saw that her eyes were closed and she was mouthing the words to whatever song was playing on the discman tucked into the waistband of her high-cut denim shorts. She had a feather duster in one hand and a broom in the other, the handle of which she was using as a microphone.
He tried to act, to think, but discovered that his mind had suddenly gone on an unauthorized vacation to somewhere a zillion miles away.
Long, dark orange hair surrounded her face, which was a mixture of human and tiger features (and was not at all unattractive). Her chest was ample and he felt his eyes being helplessly drawn down to the curvaceous hips that swung from side to side in time with the music.
Based on the way she was moving, Hank surmised that she had to be an exotic dancer of some kind. Or maybe it was just her feline influence coming through.
He couldn't stop himself as his eyes followed her every sensuous movement around the room. She was completely uninhibited, simply enjoying the movement of her body as she danced to the music.
A stern voice struggled through the fog in McCoy's brain.
#Say something, you fatuous oaf! Don't just stand there staring at her like some perverted, blue-furred cretin!#
He was about to open his mouth and attempt to say something intelligent when she suddenly lunged to the floor and slid on her knees toward him, legs stretched wide apart and holding the 'microphone' to her mouth. He looked down at her and was unwittingly treated to a full view down the front of her tanktop, right to her navel.
Her eyelids lifted a crack. They widened immensely when she saw the pair of large blue feet in front of her. Slowly, she looked up...waaaaay up. By the time her eyes had reached his face, they were almost bursting their sockets.
Hank blinked. Then he blinked again. "Um....hi?" was all that he could manage to say. #Yes, that was extreeeeeeemly intelligent, Hank.#
A muted, embarrassed whimper escaped her lips which Hank unfortunately mistook for terror.
She swung her knees together with a resounding 'SLAP!'. Both broom and feather duster clattered to the floor as she jumped up onto her feet in a tremendous effort to right herself and bolt out the other door before she died of embarrassment.
* * *
Jubilee was on her way to the rec room to check on Tyger. She and Tyger had been assigned chores as punishment for rollerblading in the house. Jubilee was feeling guilty since it had been her idea in the first place. She had finished scrubbing down the kitchen as fast as she could so she could help Tyger as a way of apologizing for getting Cyclops mad at her.
She was just about to place a hand on the knob when the door suddenly flew open and Jubilee found herself staring dazedly at the ceiling after being slammed to the ground with the force of a bullet train. She blinked a couple of times, trying to regain her senses, and saw Tyger staring down at her in horror. A series of whimpers issued from Tyger as the flighty feline fought to untangle their legs. Upon succeeding, she bolted down the hallway and out of sight, tail straight out and puffed, and leaving Jubilee to wonder just what the heck had happened.
* * *
Hank's feet were still firmly rooted to the floor and he was unable to react when he heard "AAAAACK!!!" followed by a loud THUD! He ran his hand through his hair as he absentmindedly licked his dry lips, attempting to say something to someone who was no longer there.
* * *
Determined to find out what had so upset her friend, Jubilee picked herself up and walked into the rec room to investigate. She saw Hank. Hank was slack-jawed and starry-eyed. Hank was licking his lips.
Rage welled up inside her. #How dare he?!# She clenched her fists, squared her shoulders, and stormed up to him.
"WHAT...DID...YOU...DO?!" she growled through clenched teeth.
Bewilderment crossed Hank's face. "What...?"
"How could you? HOW DARE YOU?!" she was determined to obtain justice for her poor, mistreated friend.
"How dare I what?" he stammered. He became aware of the sparks appearing around Jubilee's clenched fists.
"Of all the people! I can't BELIEVE you, Hank!" The sparks were glowing brighter.
"Um...Jubilee...perhaps it would be best....mayhap you should calm yourself...!"
"Calm myself? Calm YOURself you...you big, blue PERVERT!!!" and with that, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the room.
Hank was left to wonder what exactly he had done to cause all this, and was considering going back to prison where it was much, much quieter with a lot less hassle and things actually made sense.
CHAPTER 2: It's Just One of Those Days
The next day found Hank mulling things over in the library. He was avoiding both the strange feline and Jubilee. He surmised that the strange woman would be avoiding him as well, so he wasn't worrying about another unfortunate encounter. And he was absolutely certain that Jubilee would never go to the library (at least, not on purpose). The room itself was in the shape of a long rectangle with a door at one end and windows lining the long wall on the right, and shelves of books lining the left.
A massive foot rested on the sill of the window closest to the door. He was leaning forward, an elbow on his knee, his chin resting on his fist. He was desperately trying to figure out what had happened the day before, but was failing miserably. He had managed to convince himself he was deeply at fault for something, and wanted desperately to rectify the situation, but he just could not understand what he had done.
He was also feeling very self conscious and depressed because he was absolutely sure he had terrified the poor girl so badly that she had been forced to flee from him. He was as used to this reaction as one could get when it came to humans. But a fellow mutant? Especially one who was as furry as he. This was not helping his fragile ego one little bit.
He was distracted from his thoughts by the sound of bare feet padding softly toward him.
* * *
Tyger had headed straight for her bedroom after the incident, and spent the remainder of the afternoon hiding under her bed.
She was not scared, not in the least. She was just embarrassed completely beyond measure. Jubilee had come looking for her later, but had never thought to look under the bed.
Hunger eventually drove Tyger from her hiding place, and there had been no end to Jubilee's interrogations once she had tracked Tyger down. The girl had seemed convinced that some utterly horrible thing had happened, and no matter how often Tyger tried to assure her that nothing was wrong, no matter how hard she tried to explain to her what had happened, Jubilee just could not be persuaded to forget about the situation.
At the same time, Tyger was feeling very, very guilty for making Jubilee so mad at Hank (as Jubilee had told her was the big blue guy's name). She finally forced herself to get over her embarrassment at what was actually a trivial thing, once she had time to consider it, and made herself look for Hank. She was sure that once she apologized to him, everything would be alright.
She found him in the library. She stood in the doorway, watching him. She did feel a little intimidated by him, as she had never seen anyone like him before. Having gotten her first glimpse of him from the rec room floor, she had painted a portrait of a giant, blue sasquatch in her mind. She had felt like a little child feels when looking up to an adult. But this was a big, blue, furry adult.
She took a deep breath to calm herself, then headed slowly toward him.
* * *
Hank looked up with some trepidation to see Tyger coming toward him. She was wearing a long, bulky t-shirt which was less revealing than the tanktop he had seen her wearing the other day. Unfortunately, it had the effect of accentuating her breasts and they drew his eyes right to them. He blinked, mentally chastised himself, and refocused on her face.
She paused in her steps, annoyed at Hank for staring at her chest. Hank believed that she was hesitating; fearful. She started walking again, came within a meter of him, parted her mouth and raised her hands as if about to say something. But no words came out. She started gesturing with her hands, and moving her mouth a little, but still no sound issued forth.
Hank was certain that she was faltering because she was afraid of him. "I beg your pardon..." he began, then stopped short when he realized that he didn't even know her name. He placed his palms forward in a gesture which he intended to indicate that she had nothing to fear.
A indignant look crossed her face as she began to realize this insensitive person wasn't going to meet her halfway after all. She had made the first move and come down here in order to apologize, and she was being mocked instead. She tried to convey her agitation through the movement of her hands.
What could possibly be the matter with this young woman? Hank thought as he watched her flail her hands. #She is standing there glaring at me, not saying a word, not even telling me what she wants! Is she trying to make a fool of me? Trying to make a scene to gain attention?# "For pity's sake," he stated, making no effort to disguise his agitation. "Just open your mouth and spew forth some words!"
She took a step back, feeling hurt. #Is he so thick that he can't understand that I can't speak? Or is he an insensitive person who just doesn't care?# Her agitation was gradually turning into anger. She patted her neck while silently opening and closing her mouth in an effort to make him understand her plight.
This only served to aggravate Hank further, whose overworked mind was incapable of registering such a simple concept at the moment. He felt that she was now poking fun at him by making ridiculous faces; that she had merely come here to start trouble rather than reconcile yesterday's events. "My dear, do you so lack the fortitude to verbalise your opinions that you cannot utter a single solitary syllable to aid me in my comprehension of the situation at hand?!"
Her brow furrowed as she attempted to make sense of what he had just said. #Is he deliberately using big words to make me feel stupid?# Her emerald green eyes narrowed and a low growl stemming from her frustration rumbled up from her throat.
The hairs on the back of Hank's neck rose in response to the threatening sound. He was nearly overcome by a sudden urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until her words came tumbling out of her mouth. He held back, but could not help clenching and unclenching his fists.
She watched him do this, and suddenly felt panicked. She waved her hand at him in a gesture which, to her, meant 'Stay away from me'. She didn't realize that she was unsheathing her claws in the process.
Hank watched in disbelief as nearly two inch, razor sharp claws erupted from the fingertips of the hand poised before him. Agitation swiftly turned to anger in the face of such an obvious threat. He instinctively raised his own clawed hands, ready to defend himself.
Tyger stepped back, suddenly feeling very frightened but still angry nonetheless. She turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door with such a force that the repercussions shattered the window next to Hank.
Sidestepping flying shards of glass, he firmly decided that the woman had completely lost her mind and he wanted nothing more to do with her...ever.
* * *
The click clack of Rogue's boots could be heard as she was walking along the hallway, whistling a southern tune and swaying her hips along with the music. She stopped short when she heard the library door slam shut. Turning, she saw Tyger coming down the hallway, teeth bared, ears flattened, and tail swishing angrily back and forth. Rogue would have been blind not to see the rage coursing through Tyger, and as the feline stormed past, her fiery southern temper was suddenly, inexplicably ignited. Who could have possibly made Tyger that angry? The swamprat who did this better darn well have a good explanation, she thought to herself as she squared her shoulders and marched up to the library door.
* * *
Hank heard the door open again. "Leave me alone!," he cried, not really caring about what he was saying. He was frustrated, confused, emotionally and mentally exhausted, and his body was still pumped with adrenalin and itching for action. "I'm not in the mood to deal with anyone right now!"
Tyger's fury, combined with the sight of both a shattered window and an angry Beast led Rogue to believe that something very serious had indeed happened.
"What the heck did you jus' do to her?!" she shouted.
Hank spun around and all his hostile feelings fled at the sight of Rogue, eyes blazing, muscles tensed and ready. Remembering Jubilee, all Hank wanted to do was curl up into a little ball as a tiny voice in the back of his head whimpered, Oh, no...not again...
* * *
What do you think? There are more chapters written. Please please PLEASE review and let me know if you are interested in them, and I will post them. Thanks.