Subject: [OTL]: FIC: Insomnia (2/4, Excalibur, PG-13) Date: Mon, 12 Feb 2001 15:34:13 -0800 From: Kel Bebop Disclaimer: The X-Men, Excalibur, and all related characters are the property of Marvel Comics. They are used here without permission, and for entertainment purposes only. Rating: PG-13 for strong language, violent imagery and "adult themes" Feedback: Yes, please! Send to kelbebop@yahoo.com Archiving: All you have to do is ask. ---- "Insomnia" (2/4) Now it had been a week since Amanda's arrival on Muir. Their work concluded successfully, Moira had invited Amanda to stay as a guest for as long as she wished. Feeling compelled to face her demons and come to grips with her feelings about Kurt, Amanda accepted. So far, Amanda's demons continued to torment her. Every night she had lain awake, plagued with restless thoughts and insecure doubts, unable to relax. 'What the hell am I doing here? Did I really think that coming back to this dreadful place would make it all better? What did I expect, some kind of fairy-tale reconciliation with Kurt? I'm such a fool!' Sleep, if it came at all, was dominated by disturbing dreams and horrific nightmares. More and more, Amanda realized that coming to Muir had been an awful mistake. Still sitting in lotus position on the floor, Amanda breathed deeply and attempted to clear her mind. She tried to ignore the stiffening muscles that made the stance uncomfortable to the point of pain. Goosebumps raised on her arms as the sweat from her nightmare evaporated. Amanda shivered and rubbed her bare arms. "Oh, I give up!" she grumbled in frustration. "If I can't sleep or meditate, I might as well do something productive!" Amanda crept through the darkened corridors until she reached the gym, relieved to find it empty. She closed the heavy soundproofed door with a thud and flicked on the array of fluorescent lamps. Outside the gym, Pete Wisdom lit a cigarette and revelled in the quiet. As far as he could tell, he was the only person awake on the entire island, and that suited him just fine. "No one to order me around, no bloody useless reports to write... I could get spoiled by this," he remarked with a crooked grin. Pete drew deeply on the cigarette, relishing the warmth in his throat and lungs. 'Bollocks to cancer. In my line of work, I'll get snuffed by some psychotic git long before my vices do their work.' He sighed in contentment as he exhaled a cloud of blue-gray smoke into the chill night air. He was pondering whether to stay out and light up a second when he noticed the brilliant lights of the gym flicker on through the window. He glanced down at his wristwatch. "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed. "Only five minutes past my scheduled time and already one of those overmuscled punters has moved in!" Pete stormed inside, ready to give the intruder a piece of his mind. "Now listen here, you wanker! It's my turn. You've got exactly three seconds to get out or I'll..." Pete noticed the woman sprinting on the treadmill and stopped short. 'The stewardess. Pryde introduced her a few days ago, said she was an old friend of the X-Men. What's her name? Simpson? Sutton? Sefton? That's it. Sefton. Amanda Sefton.' He watched her with a connoisseur's eye. 'Not really my type, but a good-looking bird at that. Nice body.' "OI! SEFTON!" he called out to her, but she didn't turn. He called again. No answer but the sound of his own voice echoing off the gym walls. He walked around towards the front of the treadmill and noticed she was plugged into a Walkman, running with her eyes shut tight. Pete stood in front of the treadmill, arms crossed impatiently, waiting for Amanda to notice him. He was debating whether to crank the volume dial to '11' or simply tap the woman on her shoulder when she opened her eyes. Amanda gave out a startled cry and stumbled to the floor hard, cursing in a language Pete didn't recognize. He struggled to suppress a laugh and pressed the emergency stop button. She picked herself up from the hardwood floor with a groan. "What the hell are you trying to do, sneaking up on me like that? You scared me half to death!" she suddenly snarled. "Christ, Sefton, calm down! I was just coming in here to see who snaked my gym time. According to MacTaggart's bloody schedule, it's my turn. I called to you, but you were pretty wrapped up in your workout. What're you doing down here at this ungodly hour?" "Three guesses." She wiped at her sweaty face and neck with a towel. "Sweatin' out a bit of that sexual frustration, eh?" Pete chuckled. She laughed bitterly but didn't reply. "You're pretty right hardcore, then, aren't you? It seems like every time I walk by this door, you're in here sweating it out. You Yanks with your fitness fetish!" he scoffed. "You look great, love. Take a day off!" She scowled at him. "You don't understand. It's not that at all... it's not a vanity thing." "Right. Then why the sweat obsession? I thought I was the only nutter who exercised at 2 am!" "That's none of your business." "Fine, then. Have it your way. Me, I came to exercise, not to talk. Go on with your flogging. Don't mind me." He began a series of slow stretches on the mat. Amanda turned to leave, but lingered at the edge of the mat. She turned back to face the lanky Englishman. "Mr. Wisdom?" He looked up from his calf stretches, an amused grin playing across his lips. "Yes?" Her sea-green eyes were cool and hard as jade. "Why do you care?" "Who said I did, Sefton? Maybe I'm just curious." "Kitty said you were some kind of secret agent..." Pete wasn't sure he liked where this was going. "Secret agent? Bah! Pryde doesn't know what she's talking about!" he scoffed. "I might be on the government payrolls, but I'm just an average bloke, working for a living like anybody else," the operative fibbed. "Sure, the work can be dodgy sometimes, but..." "So you know how to keep secrets," Amanda cut him off. "Well, I do have security clearance. Draw your own conclusions." Suddenly Amanda's steely, cold mask dissolved and Pete saw the woman standing in front of him for what she truly was: exhausted, miserable and just a bit unbalanced. Her tense, defiant body posture became shaky. Her hard eyes were softened by the tears beginning to well up in them. "Eh, Sefton. Are you all right?" She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. "I'm fine. I'm just... tired." Just as quickly, the barriers went back up. Pete was getting annoyed with the cryptic conversation. He was tempted to just walk away and leave Amanda to her workout. 'Hell, if she can't wait till morning for her turn on that overgrown hamster wheel, it's not my problem.' He glanced over at Amanda and immediately the impulse faded. 'Look at her, she's miserable! Someone needs to talk to the woman. It needs doing. If the Spandex Brigade is too wrapped up in themselves to notice, then I guess it's going to be me.' "Look, Sefton, I know your buddies in Excalibur think I'm a right bastard, and you don't really have any reason to trust me either. But if you want to talk, your secrets are safe with me. I promise." She eyed him suspiciously. "How can I trust you?" "I give you my word as a gentleman...no, as an agent...no, as an Englishman... no...that's no good..." he rolled his eyes skyward as he thought. Suddenly he exclaimed with a fervor that made Amanda jump, "Right! I give you my word as a Man U fan!" "What?" "Man U. Manchester United. Footie team. Soccer to you Yanks..." he could practically see her eyes starting to glaze over. "...uh, but that doesn't really matter. What matters is that it's something important to me, right? I promise that whatever you tell me stays between us or else I'm through with Man U for life! "Why would you make a promise like that? You don't even know me." "It needs doing, don't it? Something is bothering you, and you need someone to talk to. I mean, look at you... it's obvious you haven't been sleeping very well. You're in here sweating all the time. It's just not right. You would probably be better off talking to Pryde or Wagner, but if you need to let it out now, I'm here." She exhaled a resigned sigh. "Okay." Pete sat on the bench and started to roll a cigarette. "Do you mind?" he asked, gesturing to his tobacco pouch. "No. Go ahead." "Cheers." She sat down on the bench opposite his. "Are you sure you want to do this?" "Only if you want to." She sat staring at her worn Nikes, completely silent. --End of Part 2-- --To be continued in Part 3!--