Just a Cup of Coffee...
It was late, and he knew it. He'd gotten wrapped up in another project, and had forgotton everything else. Bobby had brought down food, just like he always did, but Hank couldn't remember if he'd even touched it. He thought wryly that if losing weight was his goal, he was certainly on his way to acheiving it. His room seemed a long way off, but like most men would, he thought it a perk that to get to his room, he had to go throught the women's wing. Sometimes having enhanced hearing was nice too. Even to just hear the calmness of their breathing, it soothed him. Men snored, but women just breathed. Well, with the exception of a few. Rhane Sinclair snored somtimes, but Hank figured that was due to her mutation.
While passing the part of the wing that led to the attic, he thought he heard crying. He knew that it could only be one person. The person who had chosen to live up in the attic simply for it's space. Storm. Ororo. Such a beautiful name for an equally beautiful woman. he thought. Ororo was, indeed, much deserving of her name, which in her native language meant "Beauty".
He entertained the idea of going to see if she was alright. I'm just going to check on a fellow teammate to see if she is well. he told himself. He knew though, that the real reason he was worried, was because Ororo was a dear woman, and the thought that somthing had brought her pain or suffering made his heart ache. Gathering what courage he could muster, he opened the door to the stairs quietly. He climbed the stairs quickly but quietly. He neared her door, and heard the crying clearly. Hank stretched his hand out to open the door, but drew it back for a second of hesitation. No, she needs someone. I may not be her first choice, but if I can help her, well, it'll be worth it. I must try. Strengthened with new courage, he opened her door. She was lying on her bed, in her robe, sobbing. "Ororo?" he purposly used her first name. He heard her gasp and give out a small scream in surprise. He came into what light there was, to show her it was him. She scrambled back against her head board for a minute, not realizing who it was. "B-Beast?" she asked. Inwardly dissapointed that she hadn't used his real name, Hank sighed. Why would she use your name, "Beast"? It's not as though she knows you outside of the Danger Room. "Yes, Ororo, it's me. Forgive my intrusion, but I heard you crying, and wished to see if I could be of any help. Is everything alright?" Dumb question, McCoy, of course everything's not alright. "Y-yes, everything is fine. Thank you for your concern." Oh, no you don't. Somthing is wrong, and I intend to find out what it is. he thought. "Ororo, might I inquire if you'd be willing to join me for some coffee? Since we are both awake, and I think both of us could maybe use some." He tried to look as friendly and unthreatening as possible. With an appearance like his, somtimes, that proved difficult indeed. She seemed to think about it for awhile, then answered, smiling, "Yes, thank you, some coffee sounds wonderful." He couldn't stop the grin that came to his face. Hold it now, McCoy, she said she'd have some coffee with you, not marry you. he thought. Trying to mask what he was thinking, he said playfully, "Well then, dear woman, may I have the honor of esscorting you to this most wonderful of occasions?" he said, trying to lighten the mood. Taking a mock bow, and offering his arm, he flashed a playful grin at her. Ororo laughed, and curtsied. "Of course, sir. Please, lead the way." She took his arm, and they walked down to the kitchen.
Halfway to their destination, Hank remembered the countless times he'd come across Logan in the kitchen at this time of night, sipping a beer, looking over some motorcycle magazine, or even reading a book somtimes. Beast prayed that tonight, sleep had taken Logan, and that he was not preasent. He sighed in relief when they reached the kitchen, and the Wolverine was nowhere to be seen. Storm noticed his apparent relief. "Is there somthing wrong?" she asked. He smiled. "No, Ororo, nothing is wrong." Hank took two mugs out, and turned to the weather goddess. "Coffee or tea? I know you said coffee earlier, but come to think of it, I've never seen you drink it." Ororo smiled. "I'm amazed you'd notice such a thing. Some tea would be nice, thank you." Hank inwardly patted himself on the back. At least she was impressed in some small way.
After getting the coffee for himself and herbal tea for Storm, he turned around only to see her, sitting on the floor, shaking again, and tears running down her face. He rushed over, forgetting the steaming mugs on the counter. Not thinking first, Hank took her hands in his own. "Ororo, what is wrong?" He asked. She didn't answer, just sobbed harder. Unsure of what else he could do, he gathered her up in his arms. She immediatly latched onto him, holding on for dear life. Beast was not aware of how long they sat there on the kitchen floor, with him rubbing her back, and murmering to her. Finally, her crying ceased, but they remained there, holding each other. After awhile, noticing the position they were in, Hank blushed, and stammered, "O-Ororo, are you alright now?" She seemed to break out of some sort of trance at the sound of his voice. "Yes...Hank?" Well, at least she figured out my name... "Yes?" "I...thank you." He looked at her, and he smiled. "You're welcome, Ororo. Anytime this happens, please feel free to come get me." She blushed, and said, "Alright..thank you." Hank couldn't help but think that he'd love to find more way to make her do that. They talked for some time, before Ororo claimed she was tired, and went back to her room. Hank sat for awhile longer, trying to tell himself that he had really helped her...
And so it went. Hank never did find out why she had been crying that night, but every so often, late at night; he would hear her enter his room. He'd sit up, and hold her until the spasms past. And more often than not, they'd have a cup of coffee or tea afterwards. When she would finally fell asleep, he would carry her back to her room, knowing he had been of some help. It became their ritual of sorts. And to think...it all started with a simple cup of coffee...