It's In the Words That You Say 

Lornadane3@aol.com 


It was silly. He'd only said one word to her and Psylocke could not seem to get 
it out of her head. Remarkable. Henry McCoy had called her remarkable. 
It was silly. She'd been in the kitchen trying decide if she could eat anything. 
Depression and anger had taken most of her appetite away (not that she'd ever 
had much of one to begin with). But inspite of her angst she knew she need to 
keep up her strength. For the team if nothing else. Though she wondered at this 
logic since most of her teammates had seemed eager to avoid her after Warren had 
left. She knew she could be aloof almost to the point of cold, especially since 
the whole body swapping with Revanche incident. And her shadow walking had often 
been referred to as creepy by many of her teammates. Funny, with Kurt it was 
stealthy and almost cute. With her it was creepy. 
But she figured someone would have wanted to listen to her woes. They were 
suppose to be her friends. Yet all they had offered were cliched phrases of "You 
deserve better" and "He's a fool" and then they were making awkward excuses to 
get away. Storm had been the only one who offered to listen but finding time was 
another matter altogether. 
So she found herself feeling more and more depressed by Warren's abrupt 
departure ("I just need some space". Meaning: It's not working out or I'm seeing 
someone else. Some evidence pointed to the later.) and angry because no one else 
seemed to realize she was depressed. Of course her depressed look appeared much 
the same as her usual demeanor, cool and suspicious, but you'd think they'd 
notice she hadn't been to dinner in days and hadn't really come out of her room 
much now that you thought about it. 
A slight weakness in her abilities had finally alerted her to the fact that she 
hadn't eaten in some time. She'd gone to the Danger Room for the first time in 
weeks to try to console herself in physical activity. But when she'd stumbled 
during a particularly easy manuever she realized just how weak she'd become from 
lack of nutrition. She shut the program down and made her way to the kitchen to 
force herself to eat something. 
Psylocke was staring blankly into the refrigerator when Henry walked in. She 
supposed hunger had finally driven him from his lab. She looked up at him 
somewhat blankly as he came to an abrupt awkward halt in the doorway. Even with 
the loss of her telepathy she could read his mind. He was trying desperately to 
think of an excuse to run. She waited without speaking for him to form the 
perfect excuse to run back down to his lab. 
But then he'd done the surprising and tactful thing. Henry continued to come 
into the kitchen. He said nothing for a short while, just nodded at her and 
began rifling through the cabinets looking for stray twinkies or some other 
sugary snack to munch on. Finally the brilliant but naive scientist had said 
something sweet and kind over his shoulder not looking at Psylocke. 
"Elizabeth, you're a remarkable woman. Warren is my friend, but if he can't 
appreciate what he has in front of him then he's a cad, a moron, and dare I say, 
a buffoon." He turned a little hesitantly to look at her, one of the last stray 
twinkies clutched possessively in his hand. She felt herself blink slowly as she 
looked around at him. This was when propriety told her she needed to say 
something. But the sincerity of his tone held her back. Ice princess she'd often 
been called. Expecting of compliments and niceities. But they'd been wrong. 
Compliments usually just made her freeze like a deer caught in headlights. She 
never really knew what to say. Or so many things to say came into her head she 
couldn't decide which one to use so she just kept silent. This only encouraged 
others to consider her distaneful, mocking and cold. The truth, if anyone ever 
bothered to ask her was that inspite of the years of being in this new body she 
still wasn't quite use to it. She still was unsure of her ability and whether or 
not her actions came from herself or from a small part of Revanche left buried 
deep inside. So when someone complimented her she had doubts as to whether they 
were saying nice things to her or to her body doner. And this bothered her, this 
uncertainty, this doubt. 
And so she said nothing to Hank. Just looked at him with that cool calm stare as 
he grew increasingly nervous turning his head from side to side looking for 
escape until finally he mumbled something about needing to get back to the lab, 
beakers on the bunsen burner, wouldn't want to set the mansion on fire and 
bounded out the door a little too relieved. She'd continued to stare at where he 
had been standing for several minutes. The word had begun to rattle around in 
her brain even before he'd run away. Remarkable. Not beautiful, not sexy, not 
drop dead gorgeous look at that eye candy uniformed vixen. Remarkable. Which 
meant so much more. Intelligent, talented, witty, worthy, loveable. One lost 
tear trickled down her cheek. She touched her finger to it almost curious. She 
hadn't cried in long, long time. Not even when Warren had left. She smiled 
weakly to herself as she thought "Ice princesses don't cry." Then she shut the 
refrigerator door, food forgotten, and wandered back to her room. 
The full flood of tears hadn't come. But the wondering began. Henry McCoy had 
called her remarkable. Doctor Henry McCoy, brilliant scientist, esteemed 
colleague, intellectual, poet, blue furried mascot of the X-men. It was silly. 
She'd hardly given him much thought in the years she'd been his teammate. He was 
always locked up in the lab when not on a mission. The consumate workaholic. 
Always trying to better the world with his beakers and his chemistry, his 
microscope and his science. A nerd if you didn't consider the 355 pounds of pure 
muscle. 
Sure Psylocke had thought of him as sweet and gentle, a good teammate, one that 
was reliable and often funny in a verbose sort of way, when you understood what 
he was saying that is. But she'd never considered him personnally, as a 
friend...as a lover. 
Psylocke stopped, and swung her feet off the bed. Just exactly what was she 
thinking. Pop-psychology would say she was trying to fill the gap that Warren 
had left. Take away the hurt by fantasizing about someone else. She was taking 
his word all to seriously. She was obsessing. But it felt so nice thinking about 
those strong arms wrapped around her as he whispered sweet articulate words to 
her. Words that touched her soul, non-superficial words that made her feel true, 
herself, worth something. 
Days went by with Psylocke trying to rid herself of thoughts that were bordering 
on obsession. It was silly, really. To think of him, the Beast, almost every 
moment of every waking hour. But it had driven her thoughts away from Warren and 
that was an oh so wonderful benefit. She'd come out of her room more, trying 
tell herself she needed to get on with her life, but fully aware she was hoping 
to see him. She'd gone to dinner every night since that encounter, surprising 
her teammates. She'd even been able to relax amongst them as they seemed to 
realize she was coming out of her funk. She'd laughed some at the jokes and 
pranks, even joined a food fight hitting Logan in the side of the head with her 
mashed potatoes. For one agonizing moment everyone at the table froze. You 
didn't engage Logan in food fighting. That was an unspoken rule. You let him eat 
as you played with the other X-men. Logan had narrowed his eyes at Betsy and the 
baited breathes waited for the familiar "snickt" of claws as he growled, "Now 
yer askin' for it, darlin'." But instead of leaping at her in a beserker rage 
he'd scooped up a spoonful of his own potatoes and aimed it at her head with a 
wicked grin. She grinned back, ducking down underneath the table as the white 
fluffy food flew past her thwacking on the wall behind her. Suddenly a full 
scale food war ensued with Logan on one side and everyone else on the other. Who 
knew Logan could be fun. The rule was forever broken. And a bonus, the Ice 
Princess could be human too. 
Alas, Henry had not been privy to the antics of dinner. He remained firmly 
ensconced in his laboratory doing what he did best, scientific research. He had 
no time for fun and games. He needed to find a cure for the Legacy Virus or 
discover a way to control rampant mutations. Busy with his research, in love 
with the science of it all, he rarely ate with his teammates. But if a mission 
came up he'd be there for the team. Few people could talk him away from his 
computer and Betsy had never tried. She'd done her thing and left him to do his 
own. 
Remarkable. The word was burned on her brain. And the more she tried to tell 
herself she was not obsessed with Henry McCoy the more she wanted to see him. 
Several times she caught herself wishing she could use her telepathy if only to 
spy on him, to watch him work. 
Finally Psylocke made a decision. She told herself it was only to get him out of 
her mind. She'd visit him in the lab, maybe ask him out for lunch, just to talk 
to him, to see him. Then it'd all be over. She could go back to what she did 
best, stealth work for the team, and he'd go back to his research. Life would go 
back to normal. 
On the day she decided to see the Beast in his lab she woke up early and went to 
the grocery store in Salem Center with an idea. She bought an ample supply of 
picnic foods and utensils, even a picnic basket, pretty certain she'd never find 
the one at the mansion. Then she'd gone to the liquor store and bought a bottle 
of Robert Mondavi Chardonney and a cork screw, absolutely certain she'd never 
find the one at the mansion. She'd taken all the items back to the mansion's 
kitchen and under the wary eye of Storm, Rogue and a few others that had come by 
for something to eat created an old-fashioned picnic lunch for two. Her 
teammates had said nothing, a little suspicious but satisfied to see her humming 
happily to herself as she worked. She almost laughed as she considered the 
whispers that would rise in the hallways, concern for Betsy. What was she up to? 
Did you see the picnic basket? Is she meeting someone? Yeah, but did you see the 
bottle of wine? Do you think she and Warren have made up? 
They'd find out soon enough. And then the rumors would really fly. Oddly she 
felt amused and a little excited by the prospect of igniting rumors in the 
mansion. It was a new adventure. And she liked the idea of being a mystery. 
They'd all be shocked at her object of attention. And they'd really begin to 
wonder about her. But, she told herself, this was all done to bring her thoughts 
back under her control. She just had to get these thoughts of Henry out of her 
mind. 
They'd been getting worse, or so she told herself. Actually they'd simply been 
getting more erotic. She wondered what it'd be like to stroke his blue pelt, to 
run her fingers along his spine pulling lightly against his hair. Would he 
growl, like an animal, or moan, like a human? If she kissed his chest and 
suckled his nipple would she come away with mouth full of hair? Would his huge 
paws be rough, or tender and light? Would he rake his claws across her back? And 
would he use his canines, biting harshly into her as he crushed her in a beastly 
embrace? Of course her thoughts had turned to the center of his desire. She was 
especially curious about his manhood. Was it blue? From the speedo trunks he 
always wore she had once noticed that it was ample. But what would it feel like 
in her hand, her mouth? Would it, like his body, be covered in fur? 
She shook her head as she finished the last of her preparations. These thoughts 
had to go. It wasn't like her to be fixated on something or someone. She was 
focused certainly, but not obsessive. Even Warren she could take or leave, never 
feeling that need or desire to be constantly with him. She loved him, but she 
held her love in reserve. With Hank it was like a school girl crush, 
embarrassing. And as happy as she was for the distraction it offered she wanted 
to be rid of these feelings. Or at least it's what she told herself over and 
over. 
It was noon. Lunchtime. Time to offer her invitation. She smiled brightly as she 
wondered what Henry would say. Surely he wouldn't reject her offer. He was too 
much of a gentleman. But she knew it would catch him off guard. Might even 
fluster him into speechlessness, and she'd have to lead him tongue-tied out onto 
the grounds. 
Leaving the picnic basket on the kitchen counter (she didn't want to alarm him 
immediately with her invitation) she made her way down to the laboratory in the 
underground facility of the Xavier Institute. As she approached the sliding 
double doors she suddenly felt awkward and uncertain. Perhaps she'd made a 
mistake about him. Maybe he would come up with an excuse not to join her for 
lunch. She hesitated, her hand at the door panel. Then she thought at least 
she'd know he wasn't interested in her. He thought she was remarkable, not 
attractive. She touched the panel and watched the doors slide open soundlessly. 
Henry had his back to the her hunched over the computer seeming not to have 
noticed the doors opening. Psylocke slipped into the shadows for several minutes 
to watch him work and calm her nerves. The only sound in the room came from his 
tapping on the keyboard to the computer as he stared at the monitor intently. He 
wore his white lab coat that pulled tightly against his muscular back as he 
moved. His glasses were perched precariously on his nose and occasionally he'd 
push them back up irritated at the interruption. Next to his computer was a 
microscope. Every few minutes Henry would lean over and peer into the lense, 
delicately adjusting the focus with his fingers. Psylocke had to wonder if he'd 
be that delicate with his hands on her body, fingers lightly circling and 
pinching her nipples. 
After several moments of watching him, fascinated by the rippling muscles, the 
delicate hands and the clawed toes clutching the base of his rolling chair, 
Psylocke made her move. She stepped out of a shadow to his side. Still intent on 
his work he didn't notice her until she was two feet from him saying, "Henry." 
He swiveled in his chair startled with an incredulous look on his face. Pulling 
his glasses off his nose he looked at her and said, "Elizabeth. You scared the 
dickens out of me." 
She smiled. He was only twenty-seven, yet his speech was so old-fashioned at 
times. And it made him the sweeter for it in her eyes. An old soul. "I 
apologize, Henry. I didn't meant to startle you." 
He smiled back. "I suppose you couldn't really help it." He pinched the bridge 
of his nose and Betsy could see how tired his eyes must have felt after hours of 
staring at samples and the computer. Then he wiped his glasses with his lab coat 
and asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence in these solitary 
walls?" He grinned brightly showing his canines. 
"Well," she started suddenly shy. She looked down at the floor wondering how to 
begin and then back at Henry deciding directness was the best course of action. 
"You've been down here a good deal lately (It had never really occurred to her 
before how often he spent in the lab), and I'm sure you haven't had a decent 
meal in days." She smiled again, remembering the twinkie he'd held in his hand 
has he'd said that sweet word to her. "If I didn't know better, I'd say your 
diet consisted mostly of twinkies." She continued, hoping to jar his memory 
reminding him of what he'd said to her that day in the kitchen. Then perhaps 
he'd have some idea as to why she was down here. He only looked thoughtfully at 
her without seeming to remember the encounter. A little exasperated at his 
forgetfulness she tried to keep the irritation out of her voice as she finished, 
"Well, I made this little picnic lunch, nothing much, and I thought you might 
want to join me out by the lake." 
"Me?" Henry was taken aback and without thinking asked, "Why?" 
Psylocke frowned. "I don't know." She lied. "I just thought it might be nice if 
you got out of your lab more and had some real food." She sighed and turned to 
go, saddened by what she percieved to be his suspicion. She believed he thought 
she had an alterior motive. The Ice Princess was a selfish bitch. She didn't do 
anything that wasn't for her own gain. 
Henry placed a gentle hand on her arm to stop her. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. You 
caught me off guard. I'd love to join you..." Betsy's smile faded as he finished 
with, "but...." 
She waved a hand to silence him. "I know. Your work. It's never ending. You 
can't possibly take a moment out of your precious research to come on something 
so trivial as a picnic." She said bitterly. 
"I was going to say," It was Henry's turn to be offended, "I need a little time 
to put these samples back in the freezer and save my work on the computer. It'll 
take me a few minutes. Could you wait?" 
"Of course!" Betsy exclaimed a little too eagerly. "I'm sorry. I just 
thought..." 
Henry smiled. "It's certainly warranted, your thinking I don't pursue enough 
trivialities. I do rather tend to lock myself up in my research. I take no 
offense." 
Betsy's lips rose slightly in an uncertain smile. "Well your work is important." 

"Yes. But I'm sure to be dull company in social settings discussing genetics and 
possible DNA connections within the parameters of the Legacy Virus." He grinned 
again. 
"I'm certain you can be very interesting when you choose to apply yourself, 
Henry McCoy." Psylocke replied grinning back at him. "Why don't you do what you 
have to do and I'll wait for you up in the kitchen." She had continued to feel 
awkward in his presence and hoped that the casual setting would ease her 
discomfort around him. She couldn't wait for him down here in his lab. She could 
already feel a blush rising to her face and she wanted to get out of there to 
calm herself before he joined her. 
He rose from his chair and walked her to the doors. "I'll be fifteen minutes at 
the most." He said with what Betsy seemed to percieve as an encouraging look on 
his face. He seemed excited by the whole prospect and eager to clear up his 
work. This perception helped her to relax just a little as she went back 
upstairs. 
She waited in the kitchen for him thinking about the day and how she would act 
and how he would act and generally fantasizing about a pleasant afternoon. She 
had dressed casually in cut off jean shorts, not too short, a favorite white 
T-shirt that had Xavier emblazoned across the front, Nike tennis shoes and white 
socks. She even wore a bra not wanting to exude any hint of sexuality. 
Unfortunately, just her natural beauty made that near impossible. She was aware 
that if he were to make a move she'd not refuse, but she still wanted this 
encounter to be based on friendship, a getting to know one another affair. 
True to his word, Henry bounded into the kitchen curious anticipation written 
all over his face. Betsy was certain the anticipation had to do with a relaxing 
afternoon, nothing else. This was Henry McCoy, a man of words and little action 
in the way of feminine persuasion. As far as she knew he hadn't had a 
relationship since Trish Tilby. There had been a possiblity once according to 
the rumors of he and Dr Cecilia Reyes becoming more than associates. But since 
Dr Reyes had gone back to the city those rumors had fizzled out. She was a 
little curious about his lack of relationships. He was handsome although the 
blue fur, claws and canines certainly had a tendency to intimidate at first. But 
his underlying personality, the sweet, gentle caring doctor more than made up 
for the beast-like appearance. His body was still well defined. Muscles rippled 
appropriately. His face well proportioned with ice blue eyes that held depths of 
ideas and concerns that could easily make a girl weak in the knees if she were 
to see beyond the mutation. And he was well-liked by his colleagues and 
associates. Despite his unique appearance, he'd been asked to talk at many 
intellectual events concerning genetic research and related fields of biology 
and science. His association with the Avengers had given him numerous admirers. 
Surely he could have found some woman who would want to be near him, perhaps 
seeing more behind his outward visage, and love him. But he remained unattached. 
Perhaps Trish's betrayl had made him secretly bitter. Perhaps he really was too 
involved in his research to long for companionship. Betsy could not say. 
She picked up the picnic basket laden with chicken salad, deviled eggs, an 
assortment of fruits, cheeses and cold meats, some bread, utensils, two glasses 
and the bottle of wine. Ever the gentleman, Henry pried it from her hands and 
placed it on his arm. She grabbed the table cloth and took his other arm that he 
offered. Out the back door they went bumping into Logan coming in. 
He stepped back when he saw the two and smirked cocking one curious eyebrow up. 
"We're going on a picnic." Henry grinned as eager as a little boy. "Would you 
care to join us?" He asked in his enthusiasm. 
Psylocke held her breath desperately willing Logan to say no. She hadn't expect 
this. But she should have known Henry in his naivety would certainly want to 
include everyone in his little adventure. He really didn't get out much. 
Logan looked at Henry. Then he looked at Psylocke. He knew this had to be all 
her idea. Henry was not one to pick up on innuendoes well. And Logan coud smell 
her arousal. "Naw." He grinned at the two. "You two have your fun. I've got a 
date with some 'bots in the Danger Room." 
Betsy almost snarled at him as he went passed them. He knew exactly what she was 
doing, though she hadn't admitted it to herself. Thankfully Henry seemed 
blissfully unaware of the insinuations in Logan's comments. He guided Psylocke 
out the door still excited by the prospect of a day off from his research. 
They headed down toward the lake as Betsy took the lead. It was a good walk to 
the secluded area of the lake she wanted to take him too, and he seemed just a 
little puzzled until she said, "I come here to do stretches and meditate. It's 
my favorite place on the grounds. Logan's the only one I've ever seen come down 
here." 
He smiled his puzzlement fading. He still seemed oblivious to the possibilities 
this day presented. He was content to just enjoy a peaceful day eating and 
talking with one of his teammates. 
He set the basket down as she spread the table cloth on the ground under one of 
the live oaks. It was a warm spring day and taking into account his furry body 
she didn't want him to get hot and uncomfortable. Henry could have told her that 
the insulation in his fur tended to both warm and cool him. He could stand the 
sun for long periods. But he did prefer the shade. 
Henry started to open the basket when Betsy put a hand over his to stop him. 
"Uh-uh. My meal. I'll set it up. You just open the wine." She handed him the 
bottle of wine and the cork screw. He looked at it some what surprised. 
"Robert Mondavi. Quite a favorite of mine. Though I prefer the Chablis." He 
smiled at her. "But the Chardonnay is quite nice too. Smooth woody flavor. A tad 
on the sweet side, but I do possess a rather agreeable sweet-tooth." 
Charmingly she said, "I saw the twinkies." 
He winked at her. "Our little secret, eh. Bobby is the only one aware of my 
addiction because he's quite the addict himself. I'll tell you another secret. 
We use to steal Scott's car and go on a midnight run for twinkies, among other 
sugary snack foods." 
She laughed delightedly. "I knew it!" She exclaimed. "I knew you weren't the 
upstanding brilliant scientist we all thought. You actually stole Scott's 
precious Volvo?" 
He chuckled. "It was a Toyota then. He kept wondering why the wiring on the 
steering wheel always seemed to be hanging out." Putting the cork screw to the 
top of the bottle he continued in a conspiratorial tone, "It wasn't just Scott 
though. We've taken the Professor's rolls and the mercedes. Storm's Nissan. And 
once, for kicks and to see if we could get away with it, Logan's jeep. The 
motorcycle proved a little out of our league." 
"I can't believe it." Psylocke continued to laugh pleasantly. "Logan's jeep! 
Even I wouldn't attempt that!" 
"We almost got caught when we got back." Hank smiled uncorking the wine and 
pouring a glass. Psylocke had placed the contents of the basket in an 
eye-catching way across the table cloth and leaned back on her knees as Hank 
offered her the glass of wine. He poured another glass for himself and 
continued, "He was just coming up to the garage when we got back. Bobby was 
still in the driver seat shoving the wiring back into the steering column when 
he saw us. Fortunately I was standing in front of Bobby which prevented Logan 
from seeing what Bobby was doing." 
"Whatcha doin' with my jeep? He asked, and his eyes narrowed." Hank pulled a 
face that mimicked Logan down to the tee bringing a ripple of laughter from 
Betsy. "We are simply admiring the structure of such a fine automobile and 
making certain it is properly functional," I told him. "Wouldn't want you to get 
hurt, old man." He snorted and I knew he knew exactly what we were up to. Bobby 
climbed out at this point saying, "It's all in working order, Wolvie.""Well, 
thanks for yer concern." Logan said and walked on over to his motorcycle. "But 
if ya messed up any of the steerin' with yer hot-wirin' you'll be walking inta 
claw city." Then he hopped on his bike and rode off." 
"You mean he didn't even yell at you?" Betsy asked amazed. 
"He didn't have to. You should have seen the smile he gave Bobby and me. It was 
enough to make us think twice about ever taking anything of his." Henry's eyes 
were wide open, hands gesturing in a no-no fashion as the wine in the glass 
swirled to his movement. "We even got the manual out to make sure the wiring was 
back in the right place." 
Betsy laughed again taking a sip of her wine. They remained in a comfortable 
silence both looking out at the lake. It was a beautiful spring day. Birds 
dipped and dived at the water, flying back into the trees to ruffle their 
feathers and call to others to come and play. The sun sparkled on the vibrant 
blue lake glass smooth except for the occasional wind rippling across the 
surface. Hardly a cloud touched the sky and it was just warm enough to be 
pleasant. A perfect day. 
"I need to do this more often." Henry sighed as he drank his wine. Abruptly he 
sat up and held out his glass. "A toast." He said. "To days like this and the 
memories they leave." 
Psylocke moved closer to him and touched her glass to his smiling enchantingly 
and just a little seductively. "To new friends." She replied. He nodded charmed 
that she thought of him as a friend. Psylocke could tell that he was somewhat 
stunned by her invitation. But he was taking it in stride ego stroked by the 
attention. 
"Dig in." She said pointing to the food. 
"Don't mind if I do." Henry answered picking up the bowl of chicken salad and 
slathering it on a piece of bread. Betsy picked up an orange and started to peel 
it as she watched him bite into the sandwich with gusto. "Mmmh. Wonnaful." He 
said his words garbled while he chewed. 
Betsy grinned at him. "Rogue gave me the recipe. It really is good. Perfect for 
a picnic." 
Henry wiped his mouth with a napkin as he finished off the last bite. "Well I'll 
have to thank Rogue immensely for giving you the recipe. But for now my 
compliments to you, dear lady, for your preparation of this fine feast." He 
looked at her for a moment his expression suddenly unreadable. "And for inviting 
me to partake of this meal with you." Quickly he grabbed the bottle of wine and 
poured himself another glass, appearing just a little embarrassed. Psylocke 
smiled amused at his discomfort and bit into a piece of the orange. They lapsed 
into silence once again. 
Henry fixed another sandwich from the cold meats and cheese. He finished it off 
quickly and drank down the glass of wine before saying, "Elizabeth, do you want 
to talk about Warren?" His voice was full of compassion. "We all know what he 
did wasn't kind. He's difficult to understand at times." 
Caught of guard by his question, Betsy turned her head away blinking back tears. 
"Yes it was unkind. But I didn't invite you out here to talk about my woes." She 
choked out. "I'd just rather enjoy the day. What's done is done. I have to get 
on with my life." 
Henry nodded not looking at her. "I understand." He replied quietly. "But if you 
ever need to talk, I'll be happy to listen." 
A long pause before Betsy said, "Thank you, Henry. I always knew you were a kind 
man. I'm sorry I never took the time to get to know you better." 
"Well," Henry looked at her with a shy smile on his face. Her tears had come and 
gone quickly. "We can rectify that today. Ask me anything. I've already informed 
you of my criminal past." 
A burst of laughter sprang from her lips. As her laughter died down they began 
to talk about their lives. Both were acquainted with the general outline of each 
others history, but now they began to talk about details. Occasionally memories 
would mingle as one mission or another came up. They had commonalities, some 
same likes and dislikes. They commiserated on lost teammates. Henry found that 
she missed Joseph and had been devastated by his death. He had never known. And 
of course their had been Douglas, whom Henry had never really gotten to know. 
They argued politics, discussed literature (Betsy was amused to find that Henry 
had a secret passion for Terry Brooks and Stephen King), talked theatre and 
cinema (Henry's turn to be amused to know that one of Betsy's all time favorite 
movie was "The Sound of Music"). "My mum took me to see it when I was young and 
I just fell in love with the Captain. And of course the music." At which point 
Betsy broke out into song. "The hills are alive...." Henry was delighted. Soon 
they were rendering their vast knowledge of showtunes. From "The Sound of 
Music", they naturally flowed into "My Fair Lady". Henry gave a beautiful 
performance of "On the Street Where You Live." Psylocke was completely 
enchanted. He had a deep baritone voice, quite talented actually. 
"You could have been a star." She complimented him when he had finished. "You 
have a lovely voice." 
"Oh, heavens, no!" He leaned down towards her and looking around warily said, 
"Stage fright." He winked and she smiled. 
"Yeah, right." Psylocke looked up at him realizing how close his face was to 
hers. Close enough to kiss. They looked at each other as the tension rose 
between them, Betsy with out being aware opened her lips invitingly. Abruptly 
Henry turned away and coughed, embarrassed. An awkward silence fell upon them. 
Finally Betsy said, "Well we've really done a number on this meal. I never 
realized how hungry I was." Henry looked back at her relieved that she had 
broken the awkwardness of the moment. 
"It was wonderful, Elizabeth. The whole day has been a delight." He grinned, 
"But I'm sure I out did you in the feasting." 
She smiled back at him and began to gather up the bowls and utensils and trash, 
packing it away in the basket. He watched her a little longingly certain he had 
imagined the attraction she had radiated. Completely impossible he told himself. 
Warren certainly, Gambit or Cyclops possibly, but him, the blue furred freak. 
Not in a million years. 
"You know." She began to speak, her back toward him. "I wanted to thank you for 
what you said the other day." She had finished the packing and turned around 
toward him. He looked at her confused, unable to recall what he had said. 
Something about Warren and a buffoon. "You said I was remarkable." She gazed 
into his eye for a moment then looked back out at the lake. "You don't know how 
much that meant to me. Everyone always says I'm beautiful, or sexy. Always the 
outside. They never see beyond the surface. Never intelligent, never worth more 
than this shell." She blinked away tears. 
Henry looked at her astonished. One word he'd used to describe her and she was 
in tears. It touched him deeply to know that he had given her some joy. "I meant 
it." He said gently. "There is so much more to you than your outer shell." 
Silence again as Betsy wiped away her tears. Looking out over the lake she 
searched for his hand laying hers on top. "I know alot of people call me Ice 
Princess. They think I'm cold and aloof." She whispered quietly. "I guess I can 
be. I think I was that way to Warren at times." 
"I don't think...." 
She waved her hand at him. "It's true. To an extent. But mostly I'm just scared. 
I use the aloofness to keep people at a distance." Astonished a what she was 
confessing she rushed on realizing how much she wanted to tell this kind 
compassionate man her fears. "After all these years I'm still not completely 
comfortable with this body. It's like it isn't mine. Not really. I'm just 
borrowing it." She sighed. "And I'm afraid someone's going to come a take it 
back." 
"Revanche is dead. I don't think she'll be needing your body." Henry frowned 
realizing what he had just said sounded trite. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to make 
light of your feelings." 
She turned to look at him. "I didn't think you were." 
Henry ran a paw through his hair uncertain what to say. He wasn't all that good 
at confessionals. He'd certainly be willing to listen to her, but what was he 
suppose to say. Nothing came to mind but he started, "Betsy..." 
Psylocke saw his discomfort and came to his rescue. "It's okay. What you've said 
to me is enough. It brought me out of my depression to think someone thought I 
was remarkable. It gave me a good sense of myself. And I'm thankful you said 
it." She put her hand to his face and stroked his cheek. He felt warm to her 
touch. "It's why I put this meal together, to thank you." She closed the 
distance between them before he was aware and kissed him on the lips 
encouragingly. But he broke away. 
"Elizabeth..." He said. She put her finger to his lips. 
"This isn't part of the thank you, you know." She said. "This is me wanting you. 
Not out of gratitude, but because I find you sweet and loving 
and....attractive." 
Henry swallowed hard. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He was 
so good with words and yet she left him speechless at the moment. She continued 
stroking his cheek her lips bare inches from his mouth still open waiting for 
him. He couldn't think. "Warren..." he choked out feeling the facade behind the 
word, his concern for his friend superficial. Betsy was here telling him, blue 
furred Beast, that she wanted him. And, by God, he wanted her too. But he was so 
uncertain. He truly never had expected this. She was looking deep behind the 
surface into the man he was and it frightened him to think that he might just 
disappoint her. 
"Warren's not here." She said seductively. "Warren left." There was just a hint 
of bitterness and sadness in her seduction to tug at Henry's heart. The heat of 
her hand on his cheek was intoxicating. But still he tried one more time to give 
her the chance to back out. 
"The wine. You're not thinking clearly and Warren...it's so recent. I dont' 
know..." 
She hushed him placing her hand on his mouth. "I haven't had that much to drink. 
And I'm very clear about what I'm thinking." Lightly running her thumb along his 
lower lip, she sighed and closed her eyes. 
It was an invitation he could no longer refuse. He lifted her hand into his and 
kissed her softly, still hesitant but warming to the idea. She purred as her 
mouth opened and he thrust his tongue deep inside. She was warm and soft. He 
increased the passion between them, awkwardly at first, not having done this in 
a while. But she was patient with him, showing him the right pressure, the right 
movement, taking his hand and placing it at the base of her neck to instruct him 
on a pleasure center. She suckle his tongue driving him almost over the edge and 
he growled breaking away. 
He looked into her eyes. "It's been awhile." He admitted. "I'm not Warren." 
"No you're not." A gentle chiding in her voice. "You're better." 
She lay down on the table cloth looking at him waiting for him to come to her. 
He ran a hand through his hair again looking around uncertain. Then he accepted 
her invitation and moved to lower himself on top of her keeping most of his 
weight on his arms not wanting to crush her. He bent to kiss her again and she 
threw her arms around him running her hands up and down his spine feeling the 
soft blue fur beneath her fingers. She had been right, it was arousing, stroking 
the fur. She could feel his own arousal on her thigh and moved her leg 
invitingly along its length. 
"Oh, heavens, Elizabeth." He murmured as he kissed her passionately. No further 
encouragement was needed. He took the edge of her shirt and pulled it up almost 
ready to tear the material apart. But she sat up and helped him remove it. His 
tender hands stroked her soft skin on the underside of her arms, then moved down 
and around to unclasp her bra. He kissed her again as he pulled the material 
away. Then he was fondling her breasts. Again she had been right. His touch was 
delicate. He softly pinched the nipples to hardness as she moaned. Then he bent 
his head to taste the sweetness of her skin, his tongue now taking up where his 
hand had left off. He guided her back onto the ground and continued lapping and 
suckling her nipple. Psylocke took his head in her hands and ran her fingers 
throught his hair firmly keeping the mouth in place. There was no need for the 
restraint though. Henry's mouth wasn't going anywhere for awhile. He wanted to 
savor this for as long as he could. Doubts still crept into the back of his mind 
causing him unconsciously to feel that this would be the first and last time 
he'd get to make love to this incredible woman. He wanted to remember 
everything. 
Finally he broke from her breast panting. He looked up to see Psylocke's eyes 
closed in bliss. He ran a hand across her belly amazed as she arched her hips 
up. 
"Shoes." She whispered to him. Understandingly he bent down to unlace her shoes, 
removing the socks and massaging her feet. She giggled as he hit a ticklish spot 
and he began to stroke that area until she was crying for him to stop. He 
grinned. His grin faltered as she looked up at him with a wicked smile. 
"Well...Only two more bits of cloth." She purred. He was suddenly shy. His hands 
shook slightly as he went to unbutton her shorts. And he fumbled with the button 
until she reached down to assist him. Then she lifted her hips as he pulled the 
material away to reveal a silk lavender g-string. He exhaled harshly wondering 
if her pubic hair was colored purple like the hair on her head. "Only one way to 
find out." He thought and slipped his thumbs in the silk fabric pulling it 
eagerly albeit nervously down over her long lovely legs. He was a tad 
disappointed to find the hair was brown, but that feeling vanished quickly when 
he suddenly realized she was now completely naked underneath him. Elizabeth 
Braddock, Psylocke, X-man, Asian assassin and ninja, goddess. Naked under him 
and wanting him. It was too good to be true. He blinked as if to clear the 
illusion from his mind, but her arms at his hips told him this was no elusive 
dream. 
He put a tenative hand between her legs surprised and pleased to find her moist 
and ready for him. He ran his finger slowly along her labia smiling as she 
bucked her hips and moaned. He kept this up for several minutes working his 
finger up and down, occasionally entering her careful of his claws. When he was 
certain he'd truly aroused her he made his way up to her clitoris touching it 
with mild trepidation until her head and torso rose up from the ground in a 
small crunch and she rasped, "More." He obliged willingly, stimulating her into 
ecstasy. His touch was gentle but firm. "He knows what he's doing" the only 
coherent thought in Betsy's mind. And when he bent his head down to replace his 
finger with his tongue she screamed. "Oh Henry." She breathed at him. He 
continued to nip and tongue her clitoris until she had lost count of the number 
of orgasms she had. He would have kept it up for days relishing the taste of her 
in his mouth if she hadn't pushed him away in exhaustion. 
Psylocke saw the disappointment in his face as he sat back watching her pant 
absently stroking her hip. She sat up cupping his chin in her hand. "My turn." 
She told him. She giggled as little boy enthusiasm quickly replaced the look of 
disappointment. Then she was grabbing his speedo trunks. He went to assist her 
but she pushed him back down. "Uh-uh. My turn. My way." He grinned back at her 
and lay back down on the ground full of anticipation. 
As she started to pull his trunks down she stopped. Henry was unaware that she 
too wanted to savor this moment. She was very curious to see what the speedos 
held, but she wanted to build up the tension in herself and in him. Henry 
frowned down at her as she placed the waistband of his trunks back in place. She 
smiled down at him reassuringly and climbed up along side him stroking his 
chest. 
"You have the softest fur." She told him. "It's enticing." She found his nipple 
and ran her tongue around it, using her finger to stimulate its twin. He sighed. 
She spent a long while exploring his chest, stroking and kissing. To her delight 
hardly a hair of his fur came away in her mouth. She moved down to his belly 
with her mouth, bringing into play all her sexual knowledge learned from 
Revanche's psyche. She was quite adept at foreplay and confident in her skills. 
It was Henry's turn to squirm underneath her. 
Her curiousity finally piqued beyond endurance she ripped away his speedos to 
reveal the manhood beneath. Psylocke's breath caught in her throat. Had she 
called it ample? That came far short of reality. Henry's penis was enormous. Ten 
inches or more with a wide girth possibly two inches in diameter. She had to 
wonder if she was up to the challenge. Warren had been long, but thin. 
Pleasurable without really filling her completely. But Henry....well she just 
have to adjust. He groaned as she took his penis in her hand feeling the weight. 
She took her time examining it, watching it swell and throb in her fingers as if 
it had a life of it's own. She ran one finger lightly up the base to the tip and 
down again, repeating this motion several times as Henry shuddered under her 
touch. She marveled at the color, a dark blue verging on black. His testicles 
just a hair lighter with a soft fuzz covering them. One hand reached down to cup 
the sack rolling the testes between the fingers luxuriating in the feel of the 
soft down, while the other continued its slow stroking of the penis occasionally 
stopping at the base to squeeze gently. As a drop of pre cum dripped out onto 
the head, Betsy wrapped her lips around the meatus tasting the fluid and drawing 
a gasp from Henry. Her mouth sheathed the tool as she brought it lower and 
lower, unable to take in the whole length. This was fine with Henry who groaned 
his pleasure arching upward happy to take whatever she was willing to give. 
Betsy went down as far as she could disappointed in herself for not being able 
to go lower. But aware of Henry's bliss she contented herself with suckling the 
head, often stimulating the base with her tongue. 
Psylocke's curiousity satisfied she abruptly straddled him raising her moist 
vaginal lips over the head of his penis and slowly lowering herself on to the 
shaft. It was hot and firm waiting for her to envelope it in her warmth. But the 
diameter was giving her some discomfort and she frowned. Henry, all too aware of 
his size, quickly picked up on her hesitation. He brought one hand down between 
her legs and began to stroke her clitoris. Suddenly she bucked and plummeted 
down onto his shaft with a squeal. She had him all inside her now. He had known 
exactly what to do and she smiled down at him as the girth trobbed against her 
clit. She lifted up off him until he was nearly out of her and then slowly 
lowered herself back down his length. Very soon she found her rhythm as his hips 
thrust up slightly to meet her. He took her hips in his hands at one point to 
steady her. Then his hands were massaging her breasts, circling her nipples with 
his thumbs. 
Without warning as she tumbled over his chest hands coming down on either side 
Henry threw an arm around her and rolled her onto her back. He was close to 
release and he wanted to finish on top his ego completely stroked by her 
willingness. He thrust into her hard and fast as she orgasmed again. He quickly 
joined her as he plunged a final time ejaculating deep within her body. Psylocke 
felt him spasm above her and then he was crushing down on her with his weight, 
fully spent and satisfied. He nuzzled her neck tasting her sweat as she stroked 
the matted fur on his back and buttocks. He was a little heavy, but she relished 
the power she felt coming from him. She wouldn't have wanted him off her even if 
the world came crashing down around them. 
But soon Henry was rolling off lying peacefully on his back on the sweat soaked 
table cloth. He pulled her to him and cradled her in his arms. Romantically he 
began to croon to her, an old Irish love ballad, until she fell asleep in the 
safety and certainty of his arms. 
When Psylocke awoke the sun was just setting beneath the trees and Henry was 
stroking one of her breasts while his tongue played with the other. She closed 
her eyes not wanting to disturb his pleasure. But he felt her stir and stopped 
looking up at her beautiful features. A beatific encouraging smile rose on her 
lips and he continued what he had been doing before climbing between her legs 
fully erect. She threw her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips and 
he went into her thrusting again and again until she screamed out his name in 
ecstasy. 
"Elizabeth!" He cried as he came again completely smitten by this lovely woman. 
"You're the most incredibly remarkable woman I've ever known." He breathed as he 
lay inside her. She turned her head to the side eyes closed and smiling. 
"You always say the perfect thing." She laughed. 
He stretched out on his side still in her as she entwined her legs around his. 
They lay there silent as the night fell. Finally Henry yawned. 
"I think it's time to go back." Betsy said to him. He sighed wishing they could 
stay there forever under the moon watching the stars in utter bliss. He couldn't 
remember a time when he'd been this happy. But she roused him from his reverie. 
"Storm's in charge of dinner, and while you have your excuse working in the lab, 
the rest of us have to be on time or feel her wrath." 
Henry chuckled. "Perhaps I'll make you my assistant." 
She sat up with a laugh and began searching for her clothes, throwing him his 
trunks when she came across them. They dressed quickly and gathered the remains 
of the picnic to head back up to the mansion. Henry took Betsy's hand in his 
swinging it joyfully as he whistled. His whistling started to fade as they 
reached the mansion and suddenly he seemed shy, as if they had walked out of a 
dream and into the cold light of reality. 
"Elizabeth." He looked down at her as they reached the patio doors. "This has 
been one of the best, if not the best day of my life. I never would have 
dreamed...." He looked away shyly. "Would you...I mean...could you..." His hand 
ran through his hair in that nervous way Betsy was finding endearing. She kept 
silent cocking her head not wanting to make him more nervous. "Hell..." He 
rasped, "Would you have dinner with me...tomorrow night...in the city?" He spat 
the words out rapidly as if she'd say no when he wasn't quick enough. 
She smiled up at him, an angel with asian features and lavender hair. "I'd be 
honored." She replied without hesitating. 
Without warning she was crushed to him in a loving embrace and he was kissing 
her passionately when Logan stepped out onto the patio to light up a cigar. 
"You kids have fun today?" He asked without missing a beat. 
"More than words could ever say." Henry answered as he kissed Betsy once again 
without hesitation. 
End.