Och, it's so nice to see all the love for H. McCoy PhD!

Er, adult situations here, just thought I should warn you. Nothing graphic.

Chapter seven

"Hey Bill, this is Dr Henry McCoy" Isabelle introduced the X-man come minister to the boy behind the reception area of the apartment block,

"A pleasure to meet you, Dr McCoy" The sandy haired boy leant across the white marbled desk to shake his hand enthusiastically,

"Mr Maple is a huge fan of yours Hank, isn't that right Bill?" She said, her demeanour almost motherly towards the boy,

"Sure is, Miss Caley, boy, if the guys down at the DTF could see me now they'd be green with jealousy for sure. Could I have your autograph Dr McCoy, just to show that I really have met you, please, sir?" The boy beamed hopefully, holding out a pen and a napkin. Hank smiled bewildered and took it from him,

"Bill…Bill…Bill? Can I have my key please?" He heard Isabelle laugh as he signed his name,

"Gee whiz, Dr McCoy, thanks a whole bunch" The boy grinned from ear to ear, eyes sparkling as he all but burst, holding the napkin to his chest like a sacred object, "that's just real…I mean, I'd heard you were a great guy and all but wow!"

"Thanks Bill" Isabelle laughed, taking hold of Hanks hand,

"Nice to meet you Bill" He called back over his shoulder, feeling somewhat dazed,

"You too sir!" Isabelle burst into giggles as soon as the door shut, leaning against him a little as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders,

"What?" He asked, holding the giggling woman to him, she looked up, resting her cheek on his shirt as she laughed,

"Can I have your autograph too Mr McCoy? I'm a big fan…gee whiz I'd heard you were a great guy and all but wow" She sniggered, he raised an eyebrow but was unable to stop smiling at her grin,

"I was thinking of something more…personal than an autograph, Miss" He purred.Her smile faded at his words, a slow flush suffusing her face,

"Hank, I-" The elevator 'ting'd and the doors slid open, she pulled out of his arms, tugging on his hand. The first door on their right led into a luxurious apartment, the living room held a piano, two sofa's and a large bookshelf. An open fire was crackling against one wall, the sofa's set either side the uncluttered table in between. Isabelle bit her lip, looking over her shoulder at him as she dumped her coat and bag on top of a table, "make yourself at home, I'll only be a minute" Hank watched as she exited down the corridor, kicking off her shoes haphazardly as she went. He smiled, shaking his head, eyes lighting on the bookshelf. He strolled over, tilting his head to one side…Wuthering Heights by Charlotte Bronte, James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl, All of Shakespeare's works, Grimm's fairy tales stood side by side in an odd mix of taste. He picked out a tiny copy of The picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, that had been wedged in between Greys Anatomy and Physiology and Elizabeth I by some historian or other. He flicked open to where the crimson ribbon lay, reading the words that had been circled numerously with red biro 'The only way to be free of temptation, is to give in to it', "It's a wonderful book, have you ever read it?" Isabelle murmured as she re-entered the room. She was dressed in a simple white shirt – something that was nearly diaphanous – with the sleeves rolled up and pink shorts, her long legs bare for him to appreciate,

"Only in part, Henry Wotton tended to get on my nerves a little" He said, replacing the book as she flung herself onto a sofa with childish abandon,

"Really? He was one of my favourite characters" She sat up a little straighter, "I've got a confession to make" Hank raised an eyebrow, pulse racing as he tried to bite down on a sudden, illogical panic. He decided to make light of whatever it was,

"Are you gay?" He asked, she looked at him a moment with her mouth open before seeing the twinkle in his eye. She burst into laughter,

"God no, I mean 'go girls' and all that, whatever turns you on" She shrugged, still giggling, "no, I was going to say I can't cook" She put her face in both her hands as she got rid of the giggles bubbling in her chest, "I can't believe you just said that" She sniggered, he shrugged, sitting opposite her,

"It made you laugh, didn't it?" They smiled warmly at each other a long moment before she started to blush and looked away,

"I wonder if it isn't too shameful to suggest a take away to someone so high up in state" She murmured, still smiling a little,

"It's been quite some time since I've had a takeaway" He mused out loud. She raised an eyebrow, reaching for the phone book,

"Yeah, like I'm going to believe that from the man who has, on more than one occasion, asked me to pick him up 'whatever microwavable meal comes to hand first'" She grinned, flipping through the pages, "you're a worriers worst nightmare, living on a diet of Twinkies and microwave meals" She sighed and shook her head, giggling as he sniffed in mock offence,

"Some of us happen to like rubbery pasta and half burnt potatoes thank you…and Twinkies are considered a delicacy in some countries" He murmured, she rolled her eyes and threw the phone at him, "I'm ordering then?"

"No" she murmured, sitting next to him and pointing out the phone number, "it was just something useful to throw at you" She smiled, watching as he dialled out the number, "I'll fetch you something to drink" Caught up in watching the way her hips moved as she left the room, Hank almost jumped out of his skin when a thickly accented voice answered the phone,

"Er, hello. I'd like to place and order please – uh, do you deliver? You do? Good..."

...Half an hour later they were both sat in the midst of a jungle of boxes, giggling like lunatics as Hank tried to describe one of hismost embarresingmemories,

"Don't laugh!" He chuckled, "it's not funny" She used a pillow to wipe the corner of her eye, her other hand occupied with a fork full of noodles,

"Yes it is. How could Bobby super glue all your lab equipment to the table without you noticing?" She was set off again. Hank managed to stop laughing long enough to sip the cup of tea she had made for him, it was just a little disconcerting that she knew just how he liked his tea outside the office,

"I have no idea" He replied. She grinned at him, surreptitiously stealing a prawn cracker from the bag beside his foot, "So, I know about your disaster with the bathing suit and ice cream at your fourteenth birthday party-"

"Which if it you ever tell anyone I'll-"

"-Assure the media that I'm not only gay but a drag queen too" He said solemnly, "and you know about Bobby gluing all my equipment down…are we equal now?" He topped up her glass as she shifted to sit with her legs cross, back pressed against the sofa. The coffee table had long ago been moved out of the way to make more room for them and the food. Hanks jacket was across the top of the piano, the first few buttons of his shirt open a little. She smiled, unable to remember when she had last had quite so good a time and watching him use the chopsticks with expert precision,

"I suppose we are" She grinned a little, "how do you do that?" She asked, pointing at his chopsticks with her fork,

"Like this" He lifted them up so she could have a side view. She fumbled around and under some of the cartons, looking for her own set, snapping them apart as she had seen him do, "use your index to…yes that's right and your middle finger goes…no, hang on" Moving cautiously, so as not to spill anything, Hank crawled over beside her, shifting various cartons and bags out of the way. Isabelle tried not to blush, the wine she had drunk already making her skin feel too warm, as his arm settled around her shoulders, his hands moving to delicately position her fingers, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured, "lift that…now hold it firmly…no-" He huffed a laugh as she fumbled them, juggling them a little before one flew into his lap, "close" He patiently arranged her fingers again, smiling as she giggled nervously, "alright, firmly not like your strangling them…that's better. Try clicking them" She did so. Hank smiled, noticing the tip of her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth as she tried to click the sticks together. She grinned at him, knowing she was probably looking ridiculously pleased with herself and then deciding she didn't care as he grinned back, eyes gentle, "and there's your basic pincer movement" She gave him a mock solemn look,

"Think I should attempt to pick something up?" She asked, reaching for a carton, "you might want to move away…lest you get covered in hot sauce" She murmured a warning. Hank watched as she frowned in concentration, moving slowly, awkwardly picking up something, she almost made it to her mouth before the she fumbled it, "watch out! Escaping chicken!" She cried, watching as it arched overhead and – Hank caught it before it hit her hair, licking the sauce from his palm as she grinned,

"Not bad for a first attempt" He mumbled, trying not to laugh. Isabelle pouted, trying not to grin as his chest bounced against her side in contained laughter,

"Liar…don't talk with your mouth full" She stabbed at the next piece of chicken, managing to pierce it, "aha!" She offered him the piece, "chopsticks mastered I think" She said as it disappeared in one bite,

"Not quite the right way to use them but still" He shrugged and swallowed, "effective" She smiled at him, still looking playfully sulky and he smiled back, reaching out to push away that stray strand of hair, watching as her smile faded into something soft and warm. He leant forward, kissing her impulsively before his brain could tell him not too, pleased and surprised as she leant into the kiss,

"You" She pulled away only a moment, their lips still brushing as she spoke, "taste like escapist chicken" She mumbled before falling back into the kiss. He let his hand come up to the back of her neck, the other falling to her surprisingly tiny waist. She wrenched away suddenly, eyes wide and a little frightened, "Hank there's something…I have to tell…have to show you first…please" She knelt up and the seriousness, the fright, in her expression took him aback. With trembling fingers she reached to undo the buttons of her shirt, starting from the hem and working up until just beneath her bra, "now" She reached out, taking hold of his hand, "don't freak out, please, if you're going to yell do it into a pillow or Mrs Bromley from next door will shout at me" She said sternly, handing him one before touching his fingers to the soft warmth of her belly, closing her eyes and facing the ceiling. Hank caught himself scowling in puzzlement as he looked up at her as she let go of his hand, though the tips of his fingers pressed lightly against her skin – he gasped, unable to stop himself. Little lights…like swirling pale gold mist, collected around his fingers,

"Oh my stars and garters" He breathed, trailing his fingers across a little, watching as his fingers left streaks of light like shooting stars, "Isabelle…you never said. Why didn't you tell me you carry the X-gene?" She bit her lip, laughing a little nervously,

"How was I supposed to say? Excuse me sir but my skin lights up like Guy Fawkes night whenever I – uh" She cut herself off, blushing brightly as he reached up slightly, beneath the folds of her shirt,

"Whenever you?" He prompted, fascinated by the light display, how warm and soft she was,

"Stop concentrating" She whispered, her breathing deep as she screwed her eyes shut. He pulled her forward until she straddled his lap,

"Isabelle" He called, running his thumb over one of her closed eyelids, amazed at how it suddenly seemed painted with light before it faded away, "Isabelle look at me" She did so after a moment, "you don't need to be frightened, alright?"

"You're not angry with me?" She all but whispered,

"I'm puzzled and a little hurt but not angry" He murmured, frowning a little, his hands stilling and he tried to ignore it when the light collected under his palms, making it look like two torches were glowing there,

"Oh Hank, there's so many reasons I didn't tell you" She was silenced by a finger placed gently on her lips,

"Not tonight. There's plenty of time to talk about it just…not tonight" She smiled down at him, something shifting in to settle beside the fear there, almost overshadowing it,

"Ok"