Insomnia
Boston July 2014
Early the next morning… not enough time later…
Holiday Inn and Suites
Democratic Convention
She's wakened at 4 a.m. by an insistent knocking on her door. As she starts to open it Will pushes through.
"Your father is Sir John McHale" he says accusingly
"Ah..." she says, still sleep addled, "Yeah."
"He's the former British ambassador to China."
"What's the fuck is going on"
"He was Thatcher's U.N. ambassador!"
Mackenzie leans her for head against the edge of the open door, "I hate the internet," she moans.
"The High Commissioner for Malaysia in the mid 80s"
"Mmm hmmm..." she lets the door fall closed behind him.
"When were you going to tell me!" he yells.
She startles. "I'm still not quite awake here... What's this about?"
He stops to look at her, tousled hair, the dark sensuality of her eyes. He takes a slow breath to stop the arousal that is sliding up his spine.
"Sorry did I wake you?"
"No I had to get up to answer the door anyways," she deadpans.
"Mac! He wrote 'The Sleeping Giant Wakes: China in the 21st century'! Do you know how much of his stuff I had to read in college? International Law? Political Science?" he's just a little wordstruck.
"I am somewhat aware," she waves her hand vaguely, "he's written a bunch of stuff"
"He's done some brilliant work on international relations with the far east…"
"It's every poly-sci major's wet dream…"
"Did you not think to mention this?"
"Right...no I usually do as part of my introduction... Hi my name is Mackenzie McHale and although I'd like you to value me as an individual person for my own skills and talents let me tell you about my father..."
He's still fixated, "What was it like growing up in his house?"
"Except for the fact that he can say 'MacKenzie, young lady, you're grounded' in four different languages, I imagine it was pretty much like yours," she says dryly.
There's a beat. A moment of something she can't quite put her finger on and Will goes silent and seems to pale. There's a tiny silver thread of tension hanging in the air, and MacKenzie breaks it with a moan, "God, Will, it's 4 am. Why are you awake?"
"I don't sleep much."
"And therefore apparently neither do I."
"Oh. Right. Sorry." He looks slowly around her room, taking in the clothes she dropped on the floor before she crawled into bed, the shell night light, the computer that she left up and running.
"Can I buy you a coffee," he says, suddenly contrite, "I mean, it's already almost morning."
She smiles at him, a wide, sleepy, intimate thing, and he has to take a deep breath to stop himself from reaching for her to smooth the tangles out of her hair.
"I doubt it, Billy. We're in Boston, not New York, but I'll let you try." She wanders back to her duffle bag and rummages through it to find a long loose blouse to pull on over her camisole and leggings, then slides on a pair of flats.
"There's always Dunkin Donuts"
"I thought you said coffee, Billy!"
He laughs and holds the door open for her. "I'll find you something," he says as he follows her out.