WARNING:
THERE IS EXPLICIT SEX IN THIS STORY. I marked this clearly in the header. The sex is graphic, but all loving and consensual (and not that much worse than a typical romance novel). If reading sex scenes like that would offend you, please don't read this.

If you want to comment, send email to <luba@lubakmetyk.net>

Part 4 Sharing Chores

After Pete had gone out, closing the door behind him, Kitty wandered around his room, aimlessly at first. She had noticed, when she'd phased inside to be with him the night before, that he really had made an amazing mess in his quarters, especially for the short time he'd been in there and the few possessions he had brought along with him. Dirty glasses, empty bottles, overflowing ashtrays and wastebaskets, and yet more cigarette ashes in dirty dishes. His bed had been unmade, and rumpled clothes were scattered all around. But subsequent events had quickly distracted her from such thoughts.

Now, without Pete to occupy her attention, she stopped pacing and just stood in the middle of the room, slowly surveying her new lover's domain and shaking her head in bemusement. She bent over to pick up an empty whisky bottle and some crumpled paper napkins lying right next to it, and walked over to his small trashcan. But it was already full to overflowing. After a moment's hesitation, Kitty carefully placed the old bottle and dirty napkins on the floor right next to the trashcan, then started gathering up other obvious garbage from around the room, neatly building a small mountain of debris atop that first empty bottle, making a mental note to send Pete out for some trash bags.

The towel she was wearing kept slipping loose as she repeatedly bent and straightened. Kitty paused, and picked up the slip and wrap lying crumpled on the floor. It had seemed like a good idea the night before and Pete had certainly acted like he appreciated it but, after a moment's thought, she dropped the silk onto the armchair and bent to pick up one of Pete's discarded shirts instead. Dropping the towel after a quick glance around to be sure she was unobserved, she pulled on the shirt and buttoned it. She took the towel back to the bathroom, hung it up after folding it neatly, then folded and hung up all the other towels he'd thrown over the floor and counter. Kitty knew Wisdom had been assigned one of the guest rooms when he'd been dumped on them by Black Air, rooms which contained many of the amenities unexpected visitors might need and not have, so she rooted through the drawers until she found a new toothbrush she could use.

Leaving the bathroom with a renewed sense of purpose, Kitty began picking up all the clothes lying around draped over chairs and on the floor. She laid her own discarded lingerie carefully at the foot of the bed, still debating whether to put it back on, but somehow she felt much less self-conscious wearing Pete's wrinkled shirt than the borrowed outfit, especially after she'd grabbed one of his ties to use as a belt. A cursory examination of the masculine garments scattered around his quarters quickly showed her that nothing was so dirty or smelly that she could confidently tell truly soiled things from clean but rumpled ones so, with a resigned shrug, she started another pile next to his closet, adding a mental note to make him sort through the collection later. Then Kitty studied the results of her efforts and decided to attack the pile again, this time rearranging it into separate little heaps of jackets, pants, shirts, and socks and underwear -- some of which made her laugh, indeed.

Then, taking another slow circuit around his room, she wrinkled her nose in distaste at the dirty plates and glasses, many of which had served double-duty as ashtrays at some time. A close look at one showed that a quick rinse in the bathroom sink wouldn't help -- a long soaking would be needed to loosen the hardened remains of unrecognizable meals garnished with cigarette stubs and ashes imbedded in the congealed sludge. With a resigned shake of her head, she started yet another mountain, this one consisting of glassware, dishes and cutlery piled up on the desk, with yet another mental note to help Pete take it all down to the kitchen later and make sure he knew how to run the dishwasher.

She picked up a pad of notepaper lying on the desk and pulled out the chair to sit at the desk. Then, glancing at the neat stacks of dirty plates, glasses and utensils she'd just put there, she shuddered and went to sit in the armchair instead, after a quick search which ended when she found a pen in the desk drawer. Tucking her feet under her and curling up comfortably, Kitty began putting together a detailed, prioritized list of cleanup chores.

Pete stopped in the hallway and lit a cigarette as soon as the door had closed behind him, taking a deep drag with an equally heavy sigh of relief. He hoped fervently that Kitty wouldn't insist he choose between her and his Marlboros, that her frequent, loud and vociferous objections to his smoking might be softened a bit by their new relationship, but he certainly didn't want to restart that argument right now, when things were going so well.

Wisdom had been confident that he'd find the kitchen empty, so his food raid would go unobserved. Although Kitty waking up had gotten him up much earlier than was his usual wont, he congratulated himself that he'd kept her happily occupied in bed and out until far past the standard and, in his opinion, ludicrously early breakfast hour at Muir. However, Pete found the blue-furred team leader there, taking his turn at kitchen duty, getting the team's midday meal ready.

Wagner was being assisted by a beautiful young woman whom Pete hadn't formally met the day before but whom he easily recognized from his various Black Air briefings as Amanda Sefton, part-time stewardess, part-time sorceress, and Kurt's foster sister and long-time girlfriend. Wisdom eyed her long, reddish-gold hair and well-formed figure with a connoisseur's eye, which earned him a glare from Nightcrawler, and he had to squelch his sudden impulse to cock a snook at Wagner and tell him not to worry -- he had something much better waiting for him back in his room. But he didn't think that was quite how Kitty wanted her old mate to get the news.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, Fuzzy?" Amanda had caught both men's reactions, and was quietly amused at the way her debonair cavalier quickly set down the plates he was laying out to come over and wrap a proprietary arm around her. She'd heard Kurt and Brian and Moira all complaining about the new Black Air observer assigned to Excalibur, and was curious to see for herself if he could possibly be as bad as they'd painted him.

Her first impression was of an ordinary, unassuming, unthreatening, uninteresting figure she'd pass on the street without sparing him a second glance. He certainly didn't have the overdeveloped musculature that Brian took so for granted, or even the sleek athletic grace that Kurt flaunted so casually. But, studying him more carefully, Amanda saw not an ounce of fat on his wiry frame, and his movements were tight, controlled, efficient rather than flamboyant. His unruly mane of thick black hair was somehow endearing, tempting her fingers to comb it neat and rumple it up again; however the cold, cynical intelligence lurking in those intense blue eyes would be frankly intimidating to most people.

"Herr Wisdom, I am honoured to present my lady, Amanda Sefton." As Wisdom nodded a silent acknowledgement to the formal little speech, Kurt changed the subject. "I had hoped to find you at breakfast this morning. I would like to speak with you in more detail about your recent excursion to London, and the... difficulties... you experienced there with your employers. Perhaps we can schedule some time later today?"

"I was too bleedin' wiped t' get up at the soddin' crack o' dawn, an' I was plannin' on pickin' up some eats an' headin' back t' bed." Pete was rather proud of that statement -- it was the truth, if not quite the whole truth. Seeing Nightcrawler's eyebrow climb up in surprise at his apparent sloth, he deliberately injected a sour note into his voice as he whined, "You try gettin' shot at by some fumble-fingered assassins an' knocked out by a bunch o' halfwit Black Air goons an' stuck with some friggin' alien mutant killer virus bug by a flippin' loopy tattooed mindreader -- not t' mention comin' back 'ere to the bleedin' back o' beyond t' be drug off by a mad Scots voodoo witchdoctor wantin' t' cut off nice little pieces of you fer soddin' trophies -- an' see if you feel like goin' t' a bloody debriefin' instead o' t' a nice soft bod... err... bed, then."

Amanda laughed at that litany of woes, just as he'd intended, "Well, I certainly think you deserve some rest after your ordeals, Mr. Wisdom," leaving Wagner with the option of impressing his girl with his flexibility and sensitivity, or appearing to be an overly stern and rigid taskmaster.

"Just Pete, then, fer a kind an' considerate lady like you." He sent her an exaggerated leer, enjoying Nightcrawler's irritation, followed by a more genuine smile when he saw the devilish gleam in her sea-green eyes as she easily recognized and abetted his not-quite-malicious manipulation of her boyfriend.

"Our young Shadowcat was not at breakfast this morning either, and she is normally an early riser."

Pete managed to hide his internal squirming at the faintly accusatory note in Kurt's voice as he replied blandly, "Mebbe Pryde were knackered, too, like, an' decided t' have 'erself a bit of a lie-in fer a change. She got just about as little sleep as I did meself, after all." Wagner missed his double meanings, but Wisdom thought he'd blown it for a moment when Amanda gave him a sharp, curious look. Pete kicked himself mentally -- he knew better that to fall into the stereotypic trap of stewardesses as dumb-bunnies, although -- just to be contrary -- he did refuse to be politically correct and call them flight attendants. But he'd seen enough cases of them coping with medical emergencies calmly, competently, not to mention facing down the occasional terrorist, hijacker and rude obnoxious passenger such as himself. And Wisdom was willing to bet Sefton was one of the best.

Keeping his arm around Amanda and pulling her away with him, Wagner turned to head for the door. "Then I will leave you to satisfy your baser instincts," which made Pete choke as he wondered for just an instant if the apparently demonic figure lived up to his appearance and had somehow divined Wisdom's plans for Kitty as soon as he got back to his room, as Kurt concluded, "And perhaps, after you have sated yourself with food and rest, you will eventually have recovered from your ordeal sufficiently to satisfy the more intellectual needs of my quite official curiosity."

"Right, mate, whatever," Pete mumbled to Wagner's back disappearing out the door, then turned away to have yet another cigarette before seeing what readily portable supplies he could find.

Continued in Part 5 Brunch 'n Bed...