Hi again! Once again, we thank you for your encouraging reviews! I think this is my favorite chapter. Chapter 11 was Tal's favorite. What do you think?
## - represents thoughts
** - speaking telepathically
CHAPTER 16: The Morning After
Tyger was in the kitchen early the following morning, preparing and happily devouring a rather hearty breakfast. She hadn't eaten anything since lunch the day before. She had woken up beside Hank, but her stomach had growled so fiercely that she had been forced to leave him and find something to quiet it with, lest she wake Hank. He REEEAAALLLY needs some rest, she thought to herself, grinning from ear to ear.
She stepped lightly around the kitchen - nearly dancing - with her tail swishing back and forth in response to her jovial mood. She heard the toaster pop, and was just starting on another slice of buttered toast when Rogue walked in.
Tyger did a double take. Rogue looked...haggard. Her hair was an utter disaster, her eyes were rimmed with black semi-circles, and she was nearly stumbling as she walked. She looked like she hadn't slept a wink all night.
The woman was muttering something about Cajuns not being around when you needed them, and shoved Tyger out of her way as she reached for the coffee pot. She didn't pour herself a cup - she claimed the entire thing. Clutching the container possessively, Rogue plopped herself down onto a chair, whereupon she dumped a load of sugar into the black liquid and started slugging it back - straight from the pot.
What a bitch, Tyger thought to herself. She had never seen Rogue in the morning, so she just assumed that the woman was naturally this crabby. Tyger watched Rogue gulp down more coffee, then shook her head and resumed munching her toast.
The next to stagger into the kitchen was Jubilee. Tyger cocked her ears, an inquisitive look on her face. Jubilee's not a morning person, she thought to herself. And it's eight o'clock. What's she doing up this early? She normally doesn't wake up till sometime after eleven. Tyger continued to watch in disbelief as the girl nearly dragged her body over to the table, sat down heavily, and swiped a slice of Tyger's toast.
"Er...arre you okay, Jube?"
Jubilee replied between mouthfuls of toast. "Couldn't sleep...munch...munch...big burst of energy...munch...munch...spent entire night working out in gym...munch...goin' to bed after this..." she finished the toast and grabbed another piece.
The next two people to arrive were Jean and Scott. Tyger tensed; she didn't know what to expect from Scott. Jean looked to be in good spirits, throwing a bright smile at Tyger, then Jubilee, and even to Rogue. Rogue glared back at the woman and gulped down more coffee.
Scott, on the other hand, looked like he was competing with Rogue in the haggard looks department. His white bathrobe was askew, his slippers were on the wrong feet, his socks were odd colours, his hair was a mess and he desperately needed a shave. He took no notice of Tyger whatsoever. He shuffled toward the coffee maker in zombie-like fashion and reached for the coffee pot. He stood there for a few moments, opening and closing his hand around thin air before realizing that the container was no longer there. He slowly surveyed the room, and focused his gaze on the coffee pot that Rogue was holding. Rogue noticed this and growled at him, hugging the pot closer to her. Scott sighed and began searching the cupboard for the instant.
Tyger was staring so intently with disbelief at Scott that she didn't notice Jean taking a seat beside her. She jumped when she 'heard' Jean's voice in her head.
*Did you have a nice night, dear?*
Tyger's eyes widened, then she tried to look innocent. She failed.
"I don't..."
*Just think your responses, Tyger. It's easier that way.*
*Er....Okay. I don't know what you're talking about,* she thought, wondering just how she was supposed to make herself sound innocent in her head.
*Sure you do,* Jean replied, nudging her. *After all, you look like the cat who got the cream...*
Tyger felt her cheeks redden.
*...and who's we don't have to mention, do we?* Jean added with a saucy wink.
Tyger turned her head quickly to stare at her plate, suddenly feeling extremely uncomfortable and desparately trying to think of a way to change the subject.
*Scott didn't sleep?* she asked.
A contented smile appeared on Jean's face. *Not a wink. Tyger, did you know that you are a projective empath? That you can project emotions?*
*Yes....how did you know?* Tyger asked, since she was one hundred and ten per cent certain that Hank hadn't had an opportunity to tell anybody yet.
*I sort of realized it last night. Most projective empaths are capable of influencing just those people in their immediate vicinity. You, however, have range.*
*Rrange?*
*Yes, Tyger. Range. Scott's suffering the after-effects.*
Tyger thought about this for a brief moment, then started sinking down into her chair as the weight of what Jean had just said started to sink in.
Jean's contented smile turned into a nasty grin. *All night...no sleep...but I enjoyed myself.*
Tyger felt herself flush right down to the tip of her tail. "Y..you mean...?"
*Yes, dear. Everyone in the mansion felt it. Imagine the worst case of hormones you can believe for five hours straight.*
Tyger looked around wildly at the occupants of the room: Scott staggering, trying to stay upright; Rogue refilling the coffee pot, cracking the floor tiles where her foot was tapping with impatience; Jubilee worn out and exhausted from that 'mysterious' burst of energy; and Jean, who was too satisfied to care about anything right now.
Complete understanding suddenly dawned on her, and a surge of embarrassment forced her to leave her seat and run out of the kitchen - just as Storm was walking in.
Ororo caught her before they collided. "What is your hurry, Tyger?" she asked.
"Musst go...out...away..." Tyger stammered, eyes wide with panick.
Ororo shook her head. Not another incoherent furball, she thought to herself. She thought Tyger was still upset about last night's FOH incident, and tried to comfort her.
"I understand what happened last night, Tyger," she said, then whispered, "Just be careful next time, as it affects all of us."
Experiencing another surge of embarassment, Tyger pulled herself free of Ororo's grasp and bolted down the hall and right out of the mansion.
* * *
Hank's mind was slowly climbing through the fog brought on by the sleep of the exhausted. As he returned to the realm of reality, remembrances of last night's activities drifted into his head. His first thoughts were 'wow!', 'WOW!', and 'double WOW!', followed by an extra 'WOW!' and one 'absolutely incredible!' for good measure.
Hank slowly opened his eyes, stretched strained and aching muscles, and then reached an arm out and grasped...thin air. He looked over, and frowned in dismay when he saw that the emerald eyes that had welcomed him so often during the night were gone.
#Why did she leave?# he asked himself. Instead of considering obvious things such as, maybe she had gone to take a shower, or get some breakfast, his thought train took a more pessimistic route. He laid his head back on the pillow and absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair as a sense of worry crept over him.
All his past relationships had been with non-mutant women, and none of them had ever lasted. The last one had been with Trish. He had been deeply hurt, angered even, by the fact that she had never once visited him in prison, never once bothered to contact him the entire time he was there. Just having a boyfriend who was a mutant had put a strain on her career. Him being charged and placed in prison hadn't helped matters any, and he had learned a painful lesson about just where Trish had placed him on her list of priorities. He had therefore called it off...for the last time. Hank had hoped that a relationship with Tyger would turn out differently, as she was a mutant herself. Now he began to doubt that.
Was this a mistake? Never in his life had he made love to a woman he knew so little about. He could count the number of past loves on one hand without using up all the fingers, but that was beside the point. She was Tyger. Was that her real name, or was she once called something else? Where was she from? She had been living on the street prior to her arrival at the school, but everyone has a place of origin. And beyond that? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. He knew nothing else about her history, and he had first made her aquaintence how many weeks ago?
Then he realized that their talk last night in the infirmary constituted their very first actual conversation together. #This was too soon...far, far too soon,# he thought, the worried feeling rapidly being replaced by one of dread as he thought that maybe she had consorted with him as a crutch for the FOH incident. What if it hadn't meant anything to her?
His mind starting racing as questions bombarded him. What if this was nothing but a proverbial 'one-night-stand'? How will it affect us both in the future? Was this all a mistake? Will the scratch marks show? Will I be able to walk today?
He shook his head to clear his mind of the last two thoughts and hauled himself out of bed. He again wondered about being able to walk as he marvelled at how last night's activities had managed to pull muscles he didn't even know he had. They had started out in the infirmary, and ended up in his bedroom. He fished around in his dresser for a pair of shorts and a shirt, put them on, and went to look for Tyger.
Hank heard Ororo's voice as he neared the kitchen, and he turned the corner just in time to see Tyger bolting toward the living room. Wondering what was going on, he gave Ororo ample time to settle herself in the kitchen, and cautiously peeked around the doorway.
He took note of the condition that everybody was in, and quietly backed away and left before anybody noticed him. He had to find Tyger NOW. He ran his hands through his hair repeatedly as he went over in his mind what he had just seen. He was convinced that Scott, given the state the man was in, had been agonizing over Tyger. What was the man planning to do about the incident? The implications actually frightened him a little. After an hour of fruitless searching, he concluded that she was no longer inside the mansion. So he took his search outside.
Logan was in the garage, working on his harley. Hank walked up to him to ask if he had seen Tyger. Logan grinned as the man approached. Hank was practically drenched in Tyger's scent. "Have a good night, Hank?" he asked.
Hank paused. "Uh...ahem."
Logan tapped a finger to his nose and winked. Hank nodded resignedly. Logan then examined the blue-furred man a little more closely. "Christ, Hank! What the hell happened to your neck?"
Hank felt his neck. Oh, dear, he thought to himself as his cheeks started to burn. "Er...would you believe that this mangulation was the result of a rather bizarre shaving accident?"
Logan raised an eyebrow.
"Er...it would...uh...appear that Tyger likes to...um...bite," Hank replied sheepishly.
Logan burst out laughing.
"Er..ahem," Hank said, clearing his throat and desparately wanting to change the subject. "It would also appear that Scott is rather upset about last night," he commented, referring to the FOH incident.
"I'll say," Logan replied. "I didn't come back till the worst of it was over. I took a long ride to calm down."
Hank's heart sank. Logan's normal reaction to one of Scott's angry moods was to just ignore it. If Scott had been so angry that Logan had felt compelled to leave the mansion...he shuddered at the implications.
"Scott's still out of it," Logan continued. "I wouldn't talk to him till he's a bit more himself." He grinned lecherously as he said, "After the way he shafted Jean last night, I can understand the state he's in."
Hank was REALLY worried now. "Tell me, Logan, what is your opinion of last night's fight and Tyger's incident?"
"Don't sweat it, Hank. It'll blow over. All she needs is a little trainin' an' she'll be as gentle as a kitten. But I guess you know somethin' about that already, don't ya?" he asked with another lewd grin.
"Er...ahem. Speaking of Tyger, have you seen her at all this morning?"
"Sure did. She was boltin' that way into the woods like her tail was on fire."
Hank thanked him and headed off in the direction the man had indicated.
* * *
Having witnessed how well Tyger blended into foliage at the pool party, a part of Hank's mind was arguing with him about how futile it would be to search for her among the trees. He was about to agree with that comment when something brushed his ear. He looked up to see a black and orange tail dangling from a branch. Since trees didn't usually have tails, he reasoned that Tyger was probably in this one.
He climbed the tree and found Tyger sitting on a wide branch, curled up so that she was hugging her legs to her chest. Her forehead rested on her knees so that her face was hidden from him.
Hank placed a gentle hand on her shoulder while clinging to the massive trunk with his free hand and feet. "Tyger?" he said softly.
Her voice was a little muffled, but he could still hear her distinctly. "All I ever sseem to do arround herre is cause trrouble," she said.
He wished she would look up at him so that he could see how she was feeling. The collar allowed her to speak, but it did not convey any emotion. "But it is as I stated before, that can be corrected," he said, trying to reassure her.
"How?"
"You can be instructed on how to control your power."
"That still does not help lasst night," she replied, still not looking up.
"But I understand your plight, Tyger!" he implored.
"Tell that to Scott."
Oh, dear, thought Hank. What had Cyclops said to her over the breakfast table? He silently cursed both Scott and himself: Scott, for being so hard on her; himself, for not being there to defend her. "Do not worry yourself about Scott, Tyger," he said imploringly. "He does tend to over-react about such matters. I will ask Jean to talk to him."
She almost laughed. "Jean is the one who told me about it."
#This is worse than I thought!# He had believed that Jean would be on his side; his entire plan depended upon her persuading Scott to see things his way. But now she was against Tyger, too?
"What exactly did she say, Tyger?" he asked relunctantly, not really wanting to know the answer.
Tyger still didn't look up. "That the whole mansion knows about it! Ev'rryone is in a bad mood!"
Hank suddenly felt physically ill. His mind was racing once again. #The situation is not good, not good at all!# He wished with all his might that he had been there in the kitchen to defend her. What had they all said? He could already see her being asked to leave. They couldn't vote her out of the mansion without his say, could they?
"I will talk to Scott! I promise you, I will find some way to convince him, help him deal with his anger..."
It was at this point Tyger looked up at him, a puzzled look on her face. "Angrry?" she asked. "Who ssaid anything about him being angrry?"
"Do you mean to tell me that he actually exhibited some measure of self-restraint while chewing you out this morning? Will wonders never cease!"
Tyger looked even more confused. "He is not angrry, jusst tirred."
"Yes, the man hardly got a wink of sleep last night worrying about the Friend of Humanity incident," he stated, recalling the haggard state he had seen Scott in.
"The FOH?" Tyger repeated. "Did you talk to Cyclopss? What did he ssay?"
"Nothing, actually. I haven't spoken to him at all since exiting the Blackbird yesterday."
She contemplated his statement for a moment. "Then how do you know if he is angrry or not?" she asked.
#Excellent question. Now, if I only had an excellent answer to accompany it.#
Tyger waited for him to reply, but he didn't. "Hank, what arre you talking about?"
"At this point in time, I am not entirely sure," was his reply. "What topic, praytell, have you been discussing all this time?"
"I thought you werre talking about lasst night...you know...uss," she said, blushing a little.
Blink. Blink. "Er...no, I was referring to...hmmmm. It has suddenly become apparent that we are conversing about entirely different subjects. Perhaps we should start this conversation over before we become even more confused," he suggested.
"Er..okay."
"Now, what were you saying about Scott? I had feared that the man was enraged to the point of considering having you sent away from the mansion, an act that I would have found to be devastating to say the least. But you are saying that is not the case?"
"Of coursse not. He is jusst tirred. Jean kept him up all night."
He felt his heart sink again. "Arguing?" he asked. This entire situation was looking bleaker by the minute.
"No," said Tyger, shaking her head. "Jean is happy."
Now Hank was thoroughly confused. He sighed and said, "Forgive my incompetence, but I still do not understand. Could you please try to explain it once more?"
Tyger suddenly realized that Hank hadn't a clue about the true extent of her power. #Oh, boy. How am I gonna tell him this?# she asked herself.
"Er...Hank," she began, "we werren't the only ones...having fun lasst night."
"Oh?" Hank replied, intrigued. He could see the sparse covering of white fur on her cheeks turning pink as she blushed furiously.
"Hank...you ssaid I was prrojective."
Hank blinked. "Yes, I recall having said that."
"I can prroject what I am feeling, and brroadcasst." She turned her head away from him. "I have rrange."
Hank blinked furiously for a couple of seconds while he made the connection. His face turned a lighter shade of blue. "Oh my stars and garters!" he said, burying his face in his hands. Unfortunately, without a third grappling point to hold him to the tree, he began to tip backward.
Tyger heard the loud THUD! and peered down. "Hank?" she called out, alarmed.
He was lying flat on his back, his hands still covering his face. But he looked like he was convulsing. Tyger suddenly felt panicked and leapt to the ground beside him.
"Hank! Hank? Are you alright?" she asked, pulling his hands off his face. He was....laughing. He rolled over, clutching his sides as he lost himself to roaring peals of laughter.
#How can he laugh at a situation like this?# she wondered, feeling annoyed. But as his jovial mood drifted over her, she soon found herself laughing alongside him.
They finally stopped after a while, trying to catch their breath and wiping the tears from their eyes. Tyger had collapsed on top of Hank, exhausted from the fit. He turned over so he could take her into his arms. Tyger snuggled in close and looked at him with her unfathomable emerald eyes. "Sso...y..yourr not mad at me?" she asked, still a little winded.
"My dear, do I look mad?" he replied, his eyes damp from all the laughing.
She looked a little ashamed. "No, you don't. But I thought you would be."
"Is that why you left me to awaken alone in a cold bed this morning?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious.
Tyger was taken aback. "Of coursse not. I didn't know about my...brroadcasting until Jean told me in the kitchen." She blushed again as she remembered THAT little conversation. "I was hungrry, sso I went to get brreakfasst. I let you ssleep because I thought you...er...needed it."
He grinned, relieved that the pessimistic thoughts he had earlier were unfounded. "Yes," he agreed. "You were quite, shall we say, enthusiastic?"
She buried her face in his chest. He could feel the heat radiating off her cheeks as she nuzzled into him.
"Oh, my. I sincerely hope I haven't embarassed you," he said teasingly. She shook her head.
"And do you realize that your amplifying and projective abilities made last night a very unique experience for me?" he added. Her cheeks were now burning furiously, but he felt her smile against him, nonetheless.
He hugged her possessively and fell silent. It felt good to have her so near, to hold her like this. They hadn't had much of a chance at all to cuddle last night - the hormones had been raging far too much for that. Now he felt calm, peaceful. There was a warm, fuzzy feeling inside that he had not felt for a very long time.
* * *
Rogue was angrily flipping through the TV channels in the rec room. Ororo was sitting quietly in the armchair, reading.
Hank and Tyger entered through one doorway at the same instant Scott came in the other. Scott had finally changed out of his bedclothes, but he was still unshaven and wearing odd socks.
"And just where have you two been?" he snapped.
Hank and Tyger both looked at him, then at each other. The laughing fit that they had shared earlier was sparked once more by the subtle reminders, and they started to giggle. Storm looked up in curiosity.
"What? What's so funny?" Scott asked, perplexed.
The strain of holding back was evident on their faces, and their self-control quickly gave in and they once again lost themselves to peals of laughter.
Rogue looked over to the pair next, and was about to tell the two of them to shut the hell up. She was still in a bad mood.
"What?! I demand to know what you're both laughing about!" Scott demanded, starting to sound angry.
Hank and Tyger both dropped to their knees, laughing. They couldn't help it. Scott heard more sniggering and looked over at Storm, who was trying but failing to suppress her own giggles.
"Not you too, Storm! What's the big joke?" Scott cried.
Storm couldn't hold back any longer, and burst out laughing. By now, Rogue, despite her foul mood, was giggling as well. She couldn't understand why, but she could feel her bad mood lifting. She looked at Scott, and his somewhat goofy expression made up of conflicting anger and bafflement made her lose it as well.
Scott stood watching in disbelief as Storm and Rogue followed Tyger and Hank to the floor, all clutching their sides and laughing hysterically at only God knew what. Jean hadn't told him about Tyger's ability to project. He didn't know that laughter - contagious under normal circumstances - became a plague with Tyger's influence. Inside, he could feel his own growing urge to join them, but he fought it back with his anger and confusion. Finally he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, believing that they had all gone insane.
"I wonder if the Avengers have an opening," he grumbled to himself.
* * *
## - represents thoughts
** - speaking telepathically
CHAPTER 16: The Morning After
Tyger was in the kitchen early the following morning, preparing and happily devouring a rather hearty breakfast. She hadn't eaten anything since lunch the day before. She had woken up beside Hank, but her stomach had growled so fiercely that she had been forced to leave him and find something to quiet it with, lest she wake Hank. He REEEAAALLLY needs some rest, she thought to herself, grinning from ear to ear.
She stepped lightly around the kitchen - nearly dancing - with her tail swishing back and forth in response to her jovial mood. She heard the toaster pop, and was just starting on another slice of buttered toast when Rogue walked in.
Tyger did a double take. Rogue looked...haggard. Her hair was an utter disaster, her eyes were rimmed with black semi-circles, and she was nearly stumbling as she walked. She looked like she hadn't slept a wink all night.
The woman was muttering something about Cajuns not being around when you needed them, and shoved Tyger out of her way as she reached for the coffee pot. She didn't pour herself a cup - she claimed the entire thing. Clutching the container possessively, Rogue plopped herself down onto a chair, whereupon she dumped a load of sugar into the black liquid and started slugging it back - straight from the pot.
What a bitch, Tyger thought to herself. She had never seen Rogue in the morning, so she just assumed that the woman was naturally this crabby. Tyger watched Rogue gulp down more coffee, then shook her head and resumed munching her toast.
The next to stagger into the kitchen was Jubilee. Tyger cocked her ears, an inquisitive look on her face. Jubilee's not a morning person, she thought to herself. And it's eight o'clock. What's she doing up this early? She normally doesn't wake up till sometime after eleven. Tyger continued to watch in disbelief as the girl nearly dragged her body over to the table, sat down heavily, and swiped a slice of Tyger's toast.
"Er...arre you okay, Jube?"
Jubilee replied between mouthfuls of toast. "Couldn't sleep...munch...munch...big burst of energy...munch...munch...spent entire night working out in gym...munch...goin' to bed after this..." she finished the toast and grabbed another piece.
The next two people to arrive were Jean and Scott. Tyger tensed; she didn't know what to expect from Scott. Jean looked to be in good spirits, throwing a bright smile at Tyger, then Jubilee, and even to Rogue. Rogue glared back at the woman and gulped down more coffee.
Scott, on the other hand, looked like he was competing with Rogue in the haggard looks department. His white bathrobe was askew, his slippers were on the wrong feet, his socks were odd colours, his hair was a mess and he desperately needed a shave. He took no notice of Tyger whatsoever. He shuffled toward the coffee maker in zombie-like fashion and reached for the coffee pot. He stood there for a few moments, opening and closing his hand around thin air before realizing that the container was no longer there. He slowly surveyed the room, and focused his gaze on the coffee pot that Rogue was holding. Rogue noticed this and growled at him, hugging the pot closer to her. Scott sighed and began searching the cupboard for the instant.
Tyger was staring so intently with disbelief at Scott that she didn't notice Jean taking a seat beside her. She jumped when she 'heard' Jean's voice in her head.
*Did you have a nice night, dear?*
Tyger's eyes widened, then she tried to look innocent. She failed.
"I don't..."
*Just think your responses, Tyger. It's easier that way.*
*Er....Okay. I don't know what you're talking about,* she thought, wondering just how she was supposed to make herself sound innocent in her head.
*Sure you do,* Jean replied, nudging her. *After all, you look like the cat who got the cream...*
Tyger felt her cheeks redden.
*...and who's we don't have to mention, do we?* Jean added with a saucy wink.
Tyger turned her head quickly to stare at her plate, suddenly feeling extremely uncomfortable and desparately trying to think of a way to change the subject.
*Scott didn't sleep?* she asked.
A contented smile appeared on Jean's face. *Not a wink. Tyger, did you know that you are a projective empath? That you can project emotions?*
*Yes....how did you know?* Tyger asked, since she was one hundred and ten per cent certain that Hank hadn't had an opportunity to tell anybody yet.
*I sort of realized it last night. Most projective empaths are capable of influencing just those people in their immediate vicinity. You, however, have range.*
*Rrange?*
*Yes, Tyger. Range. Scott's suffering the after-effects.*
Tyger thought about this for a brief moment, then started sinking down into her chair as the weight of what Jean had just said started to sink in.
Jean's contented smile turned into a nasty grin. *All night...no sleep...but I enjoyed myself.*
Tyger felt herself flush right down to the tip of her tail. "Y..you mean...?"
*Yes, dear. Everyone in the mansion felt it. Imagine the worst case of hormones you can believe for five hours straight.*
Tyger looked around wildly at the occupants of the room: Scott staggering, trying to stay upright; Rogue refilling the coffee pot, cracking the floor tiles where her foot was tapping with impatience; Jubilee worn out and exhausted from that 'mysterious' burst of energy; and Jean, who was too satisfied to care about anything right now.
Complete understanding suddenly dawned on her, and a surge of embarrassment forced her to leave her seat and run out of the kitchen - just as Storm was walking in.
Ororo caught her before they collided. "What is your hurry, Tyger?" she asked.
"Musst go...out...away..." Tyger stammered, eyes wide with panick.
Ororo shook her head. Not another incoherent furball, she thought to herself. She thought Tyger was still upset about last night's FOH incident, and tried to comfort her.
"I understand what happened last night, Tyger," she said, then whispered, "Just be careful next time, as it affects all of us."
Experiencing another surge of embarassment, Tyger pulled herself free of Ororo's grasp and bolted down the hall and right out of the mansion.
* * *
Hank's mind was slowly climbing through the fog brought on by the sleep of the exhausted. As he returned to the realm of reality, remembrances of last night's activities drifted into his head. His first thoughts were 'wow!', 'WOW!', and 'double WOW!', followed by an extra 'WOW!' and one 'absolutely incredible!' for good measure.
Hank slowly opened his eyes, stretched strained and aching muscles, and then reached an arm out and grasped...thin air. He looked over, and frowned in dismay when he saw that the emerald eyes that had welcomed him so often during the night were gone.
#Why did she leave?# he asked himself. Instead of considering obvious things such as, maybe she had gone to take a shower, or get some breakfast, his thought train took a more pessimistic route. He laid his head back on the pillow and absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair as a sense of worry crept over him.
All his past relationships had been with non-mutant women, and none of them had ever lasted. The last one had been with Trish. He had been deeply hurt, angered even, by the fact that she had never once visited him in prison, never once bothered to contact him the entire time he was there. Just having a boyfriend who was a mutant had put a strain on her career. Him being charged and placed in prison hadn't helped matters any, and he had learned a painful lesson about just where Trish had placed him on her list of priorities. He had therefore called it off...for the last time. Hank had hoped that a relationship with Tyger would turn out differently, as she was a mutant herself. Now he began to doubt that.
Was this a mistake? Never in his life had he made love to a woman he knew so little about. He could count the number of past loves on one hand without using up all the fingers, but that was beside the point. She was Tyger. Was that her real name, or was she once called something else? Where was she from? She had been living on the street prior to her arrival at the school, but everyone has a place of origin. And beyond that? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. He knew nothing else about her history, and he had first made her aquaintence how many weeks ago?
Then he realized that their talk last night in the infirmary constituted their very first actual conversation together. #This was too soon...far, far too soon,# he thought, the worried feeling rapidly being replaced by one of dread as he thought that maybe she had consorted with him as a crutch for the FOH incident. What if it hadn't meant anything to her?
His mind starting racing as questions bombarded him. What if this was nothing but a proverbial 'one-night-stand'? How will it affect us both in the future? Was this all a mistake? Will the scratch marks show? Will I be able to walk today?
He shook his head to clear his mind of the last two thoughts and hauled himself out of bed. He again wondered about being able to walk as he marvelled at how last night's activities had managed to pull muscles he didn't even know he had. They had started out in the infirmary, and ended up in his bedroom. He fished around in his dresser for a pair of shorts and a shirt, put them on, and went to look for Tyger.
Hank heard Ororo's voice as he neared the kitchen, and he turned the corner just in time to see Tyger bolting toward the living room. Wondering what was going on, he gave Ororo ample time to settle herself in the kitchen, and cautiously peeked around the doorway.
He took note of the condition that everybody was in, and quietly backed away and left before anybody noticed him. He had to find Tyger NOW. He ran his hands through his hair repeatedly as he went over in his mind what he had just seen. He was convinced that Scott, given the state the man was in, had been agonizing over Tyger. What was the man planning to do about the incident? The implications actually frightened him a little. After an hour of fruitless searching, he concluded that she was no longer inside the mansion. So he took his search outside.
Logan was in the garage, working on his harley. Hank walked up to him to ask if he had seen Tyger. Logan grinned as the man approached. Hank was practically drenched in Tyger's scent. "Have a good night, Hank?" he asked.
Hank paused. "Uh...ahem."
Logan tapped a finger to his nose and winked. Hank nodded resignedly. Logan then examined the blue-furred man a little more closely. "Christ, Hank! What the hell happened to your neck?"
Hank felt his neck. Oh, dear, he thought to himself as his cheeks started to burn. "Er...would you believe that this mangulation was the result of a rather bizarre shaving accident?"
Logan raised an eyebrow.
"Er...it would...uh...appear that Tyger likes to...um...bite," Hank replied sheepishly.
Logan burst out laughing.
"Er..ahem," Hank said, clearing his throat and desparately wanting to change the subject. "It would also appear that Scott is rather upset about last night," he commented, referring to the FOH incident.
"I'll say," Logan replied. "I didn't come back till the worst of it was over. I took a long ride to calm down."
Hank's heart sank. Logan's normal reaction to one of Scott's angry moods was to just ignore it. If Scott had been so angry that Logan had felt compelled to leave the mansion...he shuddered at the implications.
"Scott's still out of it," Logan continued. "I wouldn't talk to him till he's a bit more himself." He grinned lecherously as he said, "After the way he shafted Jean last night, I can understand the state he's in."
Hank was REALLY worried now. "Tell me, Logan, what is your opinion of last night's fight and Tyger's incident?"
"Don't sweat it, Hank. It'll blow over. All she needs is a little trainin' an' she'll be as gentle as a kitten. But I guess you know somethin' about that already, don't ya?" he asked with another lewd grin.
"Er...ahem. Speaking of Tyger, have you seen her at all this morning?"
"Sure did. She was boltin' that way into the woods like her tail was on fire."
Hank thanked him and headed off in the direction the man had indicated.
* * *
Having witnessed how well Tyger blended into foliage at the pool party, a part of Hank's mind was arguing with him about how futile it would be to search for her among the trees. He was about to agree with that comment when something brushed his ear. He looked up to see a black and orange tail dangling from a branch. Since trees didn't usually have tails, he reasoned that Tyger was probably in this one.
He climbed the tree and found Tyger sitting on a wide branch, curled up so that she was hugging her legs to her chest. Her forehead rested on her knees so that her face was hidden from him.
Hank placed a gentle hand on her shoulder while clinging to the massive trunk with his free hand and feet. "Tyger?" he said softly.
Her voice was a little muffled, but he could still hear her distinctly. "All I ever sseem to do arround herre is cause trrouble," she said.
He wished she would look up at him so that he could see how she was feeling. The collar allowed her to speak, but it did not convey any emotion. "But it is as I stated before, that can be corrected," he said, trying to reassure her.
"How?"
"You can be instructed on how to control your power."
"That still does not help lasst night," she replied, still not looking up.
"But I understand your plight, Tyger!" he implored.
"Tell that to Scott."
Oh, dear, thought Hank. What had Cyclops said to her over the breakfast table? He silently cursed both Scott and himself: Scott, for being so hard on her; himself, for not being there to defend her. "Do not worry yourself about Scott, Tyger," he said imploringly. "He does tend to over-react about such matters. I will ask Jean to talk to him."
She almost laughed. "Jean is the one who told me about it."
#This is worse than I thought!# He had believed that Jean would be on his side; his entire plan depended upon her persuading Scott to see things his way. But now she was against Tyger, too?
"What exactly did she say, Tyger?" he asked relunctantly, not really wanting to know the answer.
Tyger still didn't look up. "That the whole mansion knows about it! Ev'rryone is in a bad mood!"
Hank suddenly felt physically ill. His mind was racing once again. #The situation is not good, not good at all!# He wished with all his might that he had been there in the kitchen to defend her. What had they all said? He could already see her being asked to leave. They couldn't vote her out of the mansion without his say, could they?
"I will talk to Scott! I promise you, I will find some way to convince him, help him deal with his anger..."
It was at this point Tyger looked up at him, a puzzled look on her face. "Angrry?" she asked. "Who ssaid anything about him being angrry?"
"Do you mean to tell me that he actually exhibited some measure of self-restraint while chewing you out this morning? Will wonders never cease!"
Tyger looked even more confused. "He is not angrry, jusst tirred."
"Yes, the man hardly got a wink of sleep last night worrying about the Friend of Humanity incident," he stated, recalling the haggard state he had seen Scott in.
"The FOH?" Tyger repeated. "Did you talk to Cyclopss? What did he ssay?"
"Nothing, actually. I haven't spoken to him at all since exiting the Blackbird yesterday."
She contemplated his statement for a moment. "Then how do you know if he is angrry or not?" she asked.
#Excellent question. Now, if I only had an excellent answer to accompany it.#
Tyger waited for him to reply, but he didn't. "Hank, what arre you talking about?"
"At this point in time, I am not entirely sure," was his reply. "What topic, praytell, have you been discussing all this time?"
"I thought you werre talking about lasst night...you know...uss," she said, blushing a little.
Blink. Blink. "Er...no, I was referring to...hmmmm. It has suddenly become apparent that we are conversing about entirely different subjects. Perhaps we should start this conversation over before we become even more confused," he suggested.
"Er..okay."
"Now, what were you saying about Scott? I had feared that the man was enraged to the point of considering having you sent away from the mansion, an act that I would have found to be devastating to say the least. But you are saying that is not the case?"
"Of coursse not. He is jusst tirred. Jean kept him up all night."
He felt his heart sink again. "Arguing?" he asked. This entire situation was looking bleaker by the minute.
"No," said Tyger, shaking her head. "Jean is happy."
Now Hank was thoroughly confused. He sighed and said, "Forgive my incompetence, but I still do not understand. Could you please try to explain it once more?"
Tyger suddenly realized that Hank hadn't a clue about the true extent of her power. #Oh, boy. How am I gonna tell him this?# she asked herself.
"Er...Hank," she began, "we werren't the only ones...having fun lasst night."
"Oh?" Hank replied, intrigued. He could see the sparse covering of white fur on her cheeks turning pink as she blushed furiously.
"Hank...you ssaid I was prrojective."
Hank blinked. "Yes, I recall having said that."
"I can prroject what I am feeling, and brroadcasst." She turned her head away from him. "I have rrange."
Hank blinked furiously for a couple of seconds while he made the connection. His face turned a lighter shade of blue. "Oh my stars and garters!" he said, burying his face in his hands. Unfortunately, without a third grappling point to hold him to the tree, he began to tip backward.
Tyger heard the loud THUD! and peered down. "Hank?" she called out, alarmed.
He was lying flat on his back, his hands still covering his face. But he looked like he was convulsing. Tyger suddenly felt panicked and leapt to the ground beside him.
"Hank! Hank? Are you alright?" she asked, pulling his hands off his face. He was....laughing. He rolled over, clutching his sides as he lost himself to roaring peals of laughter.
#How can he laugh at a situation like this?# she wondered, feeling annoyed. But as his jovial mood drifted over her, she soon found herself laughing alongside him.
They finally stopped after a while, trying to catch their breath and wiping the tears from their eyes. Tyger had collapsed on top of Hank, exhausted from the fit. He turned over so he could take her into his arms. Tyger snuggled in close and looked at him with her unfathomable emerald eyes. "Sso...y..yourr not mad at me?" she asked, still a little winded.
"My dear, do I look mad?" he replied, his eyes damp from all the laughing.
She looked a little ashamed. "No, you don't. But I thought you would be."
"Is that why you left me to awaken alone in a cold bed this morning?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious.
Tyger was taken aback. "Of coursse not. I didn't know about my...brroadcasting until Jean told me in the kitchen." She blushed again as she remembered THAT little conversation. "I was hungrry, sso I went to get brreakfasst. I let you ssleep because I thought you...er...needed it."
He grinned, relieved that the pessimistic thoughts he had earlier were unfounded. "Yes," he agreed. "You were quite, shall we say, enthusiastic?"
She buried her face in his chest. He could feel the heat radiating off her cheeks as she nuzzled into him.
"Oh, my. I sincerely hope I haven't embarassed you," he said teasingly. She shook her head.
"And do you realize that your amplifying and projective abilities made last night a very unique experience for me?" he added. Her cheeks were now burning furiously, but he felt her smile against him, nonetheless.
He hugged her possessively and fell silent. It felt good to have her so near, to hold her like this. They hadn't had much of a chance at all to cuddle last night - the hormones had been raging far too much for that. Now he felt calm, peaceful. There was a warm, fuzzy feeling inside that he had not felt for a very long time.
* * *
Rogue was angrily flipping through the TV channels in the rec room. Ororo was sitting quietly in the armchair, reading.
Hank and Tyger entered through one doorway at the same instant Scott came in the other. Scott had finally changed out of his bedclothes, but he was still unshaven and wearing odd socks.
"And just where have you two been?" he snapped.
Hank and Tyger both looked at him, then at each other. The laughing fit that they had shared earlier was sparked once more by the subtle reminders, and they started to giggle. Storm looked up in curiosity.
"What? What's so funny?" Scott asked, perplexed.
The strain of holding back was evident on their faces, and their self-control quickly gave in and they once again lost themselves to peals of laughter.
Rogue looked over to the pair next, and was about to tell the two of them to shut the hell up. She was still in a bad mood.
"What?! I demand to know what you're both laughing about!" Scott demanded, starting to sound angry.
Hank and Tyger both dropped to their knees, laughing. They couldn't help it. Scott heard more sniggering and looked over at Storm, who was trying but failing to suppress her own giggles.
"Not you too, Storm! What's the big joke?" Scott cried.
Storm couldn't hold back any longer, and burst out laughing. By now, Rogue, despite her foul mood, was giggling as well. She couldn't understand why, but she could feel her bad mood lifting. She looked at Scott, and his somewhat goofy expression made up of conflicting anger and bafflement made her lose it as well.
Scott stood watching in disbelief as Storm and Rogue followed Tyger and Hank to the floor, all clutching their sides and laughing hysterically at only God knew what. Jean hadn't told him about Tyger's ability to project. He didn't know that laughter - contagious under normal circumstances - became a plague with Tyger's influence. Inside, he could feel his own growing urge to join them, but he fought it back with his anger and confusion. Finally he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, believing that they had all gone insane.
"I wonder if the Avengers have an opening," he grumbled to himself.
* * *