Thank to y'all who've reviewed ;) Can't begin to tell y'how much it means to me that somebody likes it Yeah, I apologise lots for my complete lack of grammar and understanding of paragraphs but I'm not doing too bad for someone who only recently learnt what a 'comma' is eh? Unexplained/odd things will (eventually…probably) be explained. Anyhoo, just wanted to expel some of the gratitude in my soul for those of you readin this thanx y'all.

Chapter 3

Months rolled by and Hanks office had never moved so smoothly, his days seemed less hectic which left him less stressed for his work at the lab which meant he got more work done there too…and, to his never ending joy, his paper work seemed to have become a little lighter. He was happier than he could remember being for a long while, since Trish…his throat closed off a little and he had to cough to clear it, trying to push the memory of that phone call from his mind. He paused outside the door that led to his reception room, attempting to clear the mist that had crept up his eyes at the thought of his ex, angry with himself that he was still hurting over – he stopped as he entered the room beyond. Miss Caley was curled up on in a foetal position on the sofa, a tissue clenched in one hand, the waste paper basket beside her full of used ones. Her lips were parted slightly and she frowned a little, eyes moving beneath the lids as if she was having a bad dream. Hank paused before softly closing the door behind him,

"Miss Caley?" He murmured. He reached out, shaking her arm gently, "Miss Caley…Isabelle?" Her eyes fluttered open and for a moment she smiled up at him with warm, sleepy eyes before the situation hit her and they flew open wide,

"Oh Mr McCoy, I'm so sorry, God, I can explain, I-"

"What happened?" He asked softly as she sat up, taking a mirror from the pocket of the smart jacket she wore. She looked up at him at the question, her hands trembling enough that the mirror fell from them and, to his horror, he saw tears start to gather,

"N-nothing important, sir" She whispered, voice choked off, "I'll just get your tea together and-" He gently took hold of her arm, sitting down beside her. He knew when to be understanding. He had taken enough of the students at Xaviers under his wing to know when a tender hand was needed and where compassionate words could heal wounds of the soul,

"Just forget that I employ you for a minute, Isabelle" He said sternly, "what's happened? This isn't like you" He frowned a little, she sighed, fists balling as she tried to contain herself,

"Ooh…you know…just one of my jerky brothers called up to tell me off because I…because I'm…" She blushed, not quite meeting his gaze as tears ran down her face,

"Working for a mutant?" He finished, taking the tissue from her and gently dabbing at her face,

"Amongst other things" She murmured, giving him a half smile, "he's not…he doesn't carry the X-gene…I think…oh god I don't know" She sighed heavily, burying her face in her palms,

"Do you want to quit?" He asked, hating having to ask but knowing that it was a good option for someone who's family…he pushed the thought out as she stood up,

"What? Leave? No!" She looked outraged, snatching the tissue from him and flinging it into the waste paper basket as she stood up, pacing the room angrily, "He's such a moron! He doesn't even know you. All the good work you've done, the people you've saved, including me, I've wanted this job for ever-" Hank felt an odd flutter in the base of his stomach, "-and he just throws it in my face that I'm…augh he's such a moron" She sagged a little,

"And yet…he is still your brother" Hank said softly, understanding the argument all too well. He had lost several good secretaries since his…change,

"Right" She sighed, straightening her clothes, "I'm sorry I crashed here, it won't happen again, I just…didn't want to go home. Not when they've got my number there too" They, some part of Hanks mind whispered quietly,

"Don't fret about it. Though if it transpires once more, call my mobile number and I'll find you a bed opposed to a couch" He smiled, watching her laugh a little wetly, "do you want to go home to…er, change?" She returned the smile,

"I always take a spare set of clothes were ever I go" She shrugged at the stunned look on his face, "it's a precaution that someone who's used to messy toddlers takes"

"You have children?" He asked, watching as she retrieved a shoulder bag from under her desk,

"Me?" She blushed brightly for a reason that he couldn't fathom, "no, not me. No husband, no kids, no pets – every landlords ideal tenant. My brothers kids…some of my brothers' kids, get dumped on me from time to time, they're at that age where they like to see how far they can throw things…usually aimed at me" Hank laughed, "give me a minute to wash and change and I'll bring your tea in, sir" She added, going into full secretarial mode with a beaming smile,

"Thank you, Miss Caley" He murmured before going in to his office. So…Miss Caley's kin were anti-mutant but she most emphatically was not…odd that, mind you…there was a lot about Miss Caley that was odd. He shook his head to clear himself of the thought as he took in the pile of work for him today. He opened the first letter, slipping on his glasses, and sat back to read it. Then read it again. Then groaned and closed his eyes, letting his hand drop into his lap,

"It's not fair" He murmured to the world in general, not caring if he sounded like an adolescent,

"Sorry sir?" His eyes shot open to see Isabelle paused half way across the room, tea tray in hand. She had re-dressed in a simple pale blue shift dress that reached just past her knees, smartening it up with heels and a simple cardigan, her hair tied back in a chignon as usual. He waved the letter at her as she continued towards him,

"Oh, they've summoned me to a last minute formal gathering at the old Academy" He sighed, scowling at the gold swirls writing, "attendance voluntary, room for one guest" He sighed, hearing the snarl in his own voice, "as if I don't have enough work to do"

"'Attendance voluntary'? That means you don't have to go, doesn't it?" She asked, pouring the tea for him,

"It's a ingenious plot, Miss Caley, it's a clandestine code used only by manipulative scholars to imply that actually yes I really do have to go because if I'm not there I'll get talked about by whom so ever takes it upon themselves to do so" He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "and I've had enough media coverage to last a lifetime thank you oh so very much" Another twinge of soul pain as Trish flashed across his mind, he squeezed his eyes shut briefly,

"Well, if you're not giving a talk, what does it involve?" She asked, unable to stop wondering if he was getting enough sleep, he looked fit to drop,

"Dinner, dancing, listening to some ancient physics professor talking about things he doesn't really understand…" His nose wrinkled in distaste, "mingling" She bit her lip to keep from smiling,

"Sounds awful, sir" She said in tones made rich with suppressed laughter. He cracked one eye open to look up at her, "it's that popular thing coming back to bite you on the ass again, sir" She positively twinkled at him,

"Oh, you come along and see how much fun it is then" He challenged, not realising that he had just invited her until she started blushing. He felt his own blush creep up his face but was entirely unwilling to un-invite her, she would make excellent company, "Only if you want too of course" He added hastily, Hank! His brain screamed, this is not appropriate behaviour! Her eyes remained wide for a moment before she smiled just a little,

"Voluntary attendance?" She asked, the sparkle of mischief in her eyes,

"Yes…no! I mean-" He'd never felt so flustered,

"Well, I don't have anything planned for tonight" She shrugged, "what time?"

"Eight" He murmured, unable to believe that she'd said yes. She frowned,

"Alright, give me five minutes and I'll be back in to tell you today's appointments" She walked out, absently reminding him about the Twinkies in his drawer,

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to fatten me up, Miss Caley" Hank called, reaching for the drawer anyway. She turned and smiled at him, a smile that turned into a grin as she saw the half open Twinkie that he tried to hide beneath the side of the desk, resting his chin on his free hand innocently,

"You don't eat enough, Mr McCoy, and while Twinkies aren't good for you at least you are eating them" She smiled again, warmly, and closed the door behind herself. She faced the empty room and bounced on the spot, arms flapping as she tried to silently expel some of the excitement building up inside her, "Get a grip, Caley" She hissed at herself, "he's just invited you because he's desperate not to go it alone. You're just a secretary, just his secretary. It's nothing personal" The excitement in the pit of her chest slowly died down until she had it under control, "He probably doesn't even know your first name"