Through the Looking Glass by Lovesfox Headers in Prologue Part 5 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Diary of Liza MacGregor September 16, 1873 I hear the whispers about town of poor Liza MacGregor, the spinster, and they anger me. I stay my tongue, and ignore their hateful words, and loathe their pity. I mourn in private that I will never know the joy of cradling a babe to my breast. John's babe. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Scully's Room 7:40 AM "Half an hour," Scully repeated absently, having been watching his retreating backside, well defined by his khakis. And then with some alarm, "Half an hour!" Turning, she went to the armoire to retrieve clean undergarments, and headed back into the bathroom. Hesitating just slightly before locking the door that led to Mulder's room, she then started the taps for the shower –- the stall tucked in one corner of the bathroom. Slipping the white gown off carefully, and laying it on the sink countertop, she hesitated momentarily as she recalled how Mulder's eyes had widened a few minutes ago as he stood in the bathroom doorway. Despite being tired and a little muddled, she had not missed the appreciation in his glance, and flushed slightly as she remembered wondering the night before what he would think if he saw her in the gown. With a little shake of her head to stop herself from following that dangerous path, she finished disrobing, and entered the shower stall. She showered quickly, bemoaning that she could not stand under the hot, needle-like spray for long minutes like she really wanted to, and after stepping out onto the bath mat, wrapped herself in a fluffy purple-blue towel. But the shower had done wonders regardless of its short duration; she felt much more alert, and eager for them to be on their way. Speeding through her after-shower routine -- moisturizer, baby powder, deodorant –- she slipped into her panties and bra, a nice matching set in a cream-colored silk, then returned to her room to dress. Casual khakis in a sage green, a black, short- sleeved and v-necked, thin cotton sweater and low-heeled shoes were retrieved and donned, and she was back in the bathroom to style her hair. Minimal make-up, ensuring the beauty mark above her lip was covered, and then she was returning to her room to put on her holster and gun, and slip into a black blazer. Twenty-five minutes after Mulder had left the bathroom for her to get ready, Scully was walking through the dining area to join him at his table. The only occupied table, she noted. There was a dark-haired woman with a short-styled apron tied around her waist standing next to and conversing with her partner, whom Scully surmised to be Nancy Carrington. As she neared the two, Mulder looked up and in her direction, the woman following suit a moment later. Scully could see the definite resemblance to John Carrington, though his sister's face seemed far more pleasant. Nancy wore a warm smile as she talked with Mulder, though it seemed to falter slightly when Mulder looked away and in Scully's direction instead. Mulder knew the moment Scully walked into the room, just sensed her presence. He gave the very friendly Nancy a small smile of apology, and looked away from the Innkeeper to watch his partner approach. Scully looked fresh and alert, casually attired as he was, her neatly styled hair a shining beacon that drew the eye. The smile on his face widened as their gazes met, and her lips curved in a tiny, private smile just for him. As she reached the table, her eyes shifted to Nancy Carrington, her smile now one of polite interest. After a moment's silence, Scully said, "Hello," while holding out her right hand. "I'm Dana Scully." Mulder remembered his manners, and the fact that they weren't Agents Scully and Mulder, not to the Carrington's, and scraped his chair back to rise to his feet. "Um, sorry," he said with a glance at both ladies. "Nancy, this is my assistant Dana Scully. Sc...Dana, this is Nancy Carrington, co-owner of Starbuck House." Scully's eyes scanned the woman's features quickly. On closer inspection Nancy's hair was actually highlighted with red, and appeared very thick and curly, despite being pinned back. Her eyes were a pretty shade of blue, and large behind her glasses, and she was just a few inches taller than Scully herself. It was difficult to guess her age, there were fine lines at the corners of her eyes, but she seemed youthful. "It's wonderful to meet you, Miss Scully," Nancy said, and gripped Scully's hand to give it several short but energetic pumps before releasing it again, a polite smile of her own affixed to her face. "Mulder here has been telling me all about you." Scully noted the Innkeeper's usage of the name 'Mulder', and not Mr. Mulder, and that the woman's greeting to her had seemed a bit flat. It warmed up again when Nancy had said Mulder's name. Her partner certainly worked fast. "Hmmm, all good, I hope?" Scully joked then, eyes flicking to Mulder's. "Of course," Nancy told her, still smiling, turning to look at Mulder again. "He's been quite generous with his praise. Why it almost sounds like you do most of the work!" Not quite sure how to respond to that, Scully made a non- committal sound, sending Mulder another quick glance, her eyebrow quirking slightly. She noted that he seemed a little embarrassed, once again looking from her to Nancy Carrington. "Well, Miss Scully, I imagine you must be hungry," Nancy then said cheerily, ignoring the awkward moment. "Do you need a menu, or shall I just tell you our specials?" Scully sat down in the chair across from Mulder, who took his own seat again once she had done so. The place in front of her partner was bare except for his leather portfolio and an earthenware coffee mug that appeared empty. It seemed that he had not eaten breakfast yet. She knew her partner was an early riser, and wondered what he had done while waiting for her to get up. She was still surprised that she herself had not risen as early as she normally did, particularly when on a case, and figured it was the sea air, or her previous bad day catching up with her. "Do you have any fresh fruit?" she asked Nancy, pushing the thought aside. The Innkeeper rattled off a platter combination that sounded wonderful to Scully, and she smiled with delight. "I'll have the fruit platter, whole wheat toast, butter on the side, and coffee, please." Nancy nodded to signify she had the order, and then turned to Mulder. "And you, Mulder?" she queried. "Did you decide yet?" "That Starbuck Special you mentioned sounded good," Mulder told her. Cholesterol be damned -- his stomach seemed on the verge of staging a revolt, and eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast seemed just the thing to keep it happy. Reaching for his coffee mug, he glanced into it and saw only dregs. "A coffee refill as well, please," he added, smiling at Nancy. "Coffee'll be right up, your orders won't be long," she told them, and with another smile, headed across the room to go through a double set of swinging doors. "Friendly lady," Scully remarked, watching Mulder, who was still looking in the direction Nancy had gone. Mulder gave a distracted hum of agreement, and Scully wondered what he was thinking. As if sensing her unspoken question, her partner turned to her at last and said in a low voice, "I've only seen Nancy about the Inn this morning, and I've been up since just after five. I was hoping we might get to talk to some of their staff, but I'm thinking there might not be any." Scully pursed her lips. She hadn't seen anyone else either on her way to the dining area. "It is still early in the season, and currently we are the only guests. Maybe they only have a part-time or skeleton staff?" "Possibly," Mulder replied, musing that over in his mind. Excess employee overhead could be detrimental to a business' survival. Their conversation ended then as Nancy came swinging out of the double doors, a steaming pot of coffee in one hand, and an earthenware mug that matched the one in front of Mulder in the other. She moved swiftly and with ease to the table, placing the mug down for Scully, and pouring her some of the fragrant brew. Mulder's mug was next, and then she murmured, "Back shortly." Once the woman had gone through the doors that it was safe to assume led to the kitchen, Scully spoke again. "I met someone last night while you were out for your run." Mulder paused in mid-stir, having added a generous dollop of cream and two heaping spoonfuls of sugar to his coffee. He raised an eyebrow at her to encourage her to continue, and handed her the creamer. Accepting it with a nod of thanks, she continued, "The Carrington's grandmother, a wheelchair-bound woman by the name of Essie Dunford." She poured a hint of cream into her coffee, foregoing sweetener, and stirred briefly. "Huh," Mulder grunted. "That explains the wheelchair ramp along one side of the house." Seeing her looking at him with interest, he added, "I did a little exploring before my run, checked the grounds out." He glanced over towards the swinging doors, and leaned towards her over the table before saying in a lowered voice, "We need to go for a nice walk in the woods, Scully." He winked at her before sitting back, waiting to see if she made the connection. She did not disappoint him. Mock-narrowing her eyes at him, she intoned warningly, "Mulder, if I see one cocoon, you're on your own." Scully watched him smile in response, and then he leaned forward again to fill her in on his discoveries of the night before, with much enthusiasm. While not unusual for there to be a path into the woods -- perhaps guests liked to go for hikes, or the Carrington's themselves used the path –- she agreed it did bear some investigation. It was a good thing she had brought her hiking boots. The kitchen door swung open again, and Nancy came out, carrying a large, round tray that rested capably on one hand. Tilting her head to the side slightly, she raised the tray to about shoulder height and started towards them. At their table, the Innkeeper lowered her laden tray, resting it on the edge of the table. She first placed a plate of artfully cut and arranged fruit in front of Scully, and then a smaller side plate with a tiny crock pot of butter nestled amid triangles of toast next to it. Shifting closer to Mulder, she put a platter-like stoneware dish of still steaming food before him. Scully stared at Mulder as he licked his lips and regarded his food with enthusiasm, and felt a flush of heat wash over her. She looked down at her own breakfast quickly, knowing her cheeks were rosy. Thankfully, he hadn't seemed to notice he'd had an audience. "Can I get you anything else at all? Juice perhaps?" Nancy asked then, and Scully lifted her head and met the woman's suddenly shrewd-seeming and very interested eyes. Scully blinked in surprise, and Nancy was just a polite, helpful woman again. She shook her head in the negative in response to Nancy's question, wondering if she had seen more than was really there. A flick of her eyes in Mulder's direction revealed that he too was watching Nancy curiously. "I think we're fine, Nancy," Mulder replied, his voice even, a small, banal smile on his lips. "Everything looks great." "Enjoy," was Nancy's parting remark, and she left their table. However, she did not leave the room, instead busying herself with adjusting the window blinds on the sunroom's glass- windowed walls. When that was done, she began sorting through a pile of linens, refolding some of the napkins. Frequently looking their way. Thus Mulder and Scully were forced to keep their exchanges light, about nothing in particular, as they started their meals. They did share a glance with each other, both of their gazes full of speculation as to why the woman appeared to be deliberately remaining in the room. Perhaps attempting to listen to their conversation? When the Innkeeper looked up again, and saw that they were both watching her, she smiled –- nervously it seemed -- and resumed folding the napkin in her hands. A moment later she put aside the linens, and at last left, moving slowly across the room and through the swinging door yet again. They felt safe then to discuss their plans for the day, though both were careful to keep their voices low. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Diary of Liza MacGregor November 15, 1873 While her daughter thrives, Rose does not. Always a delicate flower, it seems she has been weakened by childbirth. Only I know better. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Starbuck House 8:40 AM Finished with their breakfast, they made their way out of the dining area, coming towards the main lobby. Slowing, Scully recalled that she was supposed to be Mulder's assistant. If that were the case, she would most likely carry a notepad for taking notes, or even have a tape recorder. She didn't have a tape recorder with her, had not even thought to bring one, but she did have several notepads in her briefcase. Which she should have brought along anyway, as it contained all her files. Shaking her head slightly at her absent memory, she touched Mulder's arm lightly, saying his name sotto voce. "Yes, Dana?" he responded in a louder than normal tone of voice, his eyes having noted that there was someone in the lobby, behind the front desk. Someone he was certain was not a guest or visitor. He didn't think Scully had noticed yet, and came to a stop. Dana? Shaking her head slightly and stopping with him, Scully said, "I forgot my briefcase upstairs, Mulder." She saw that Mulder was looking towards the front entrance, and looked as well, understanding then why he had been using her 'undercover' name as opposed to just saying Scully. There was now someone staffing the front desk, and it was not Nancy or John Carrington. Instead it was a young woman, her nose buried in a paperback book. An historical romance novel, Scully noted after a squinting perusal of the book's cover. "I'll wait for you by the front desk," Mulder said, jutting his chin slightly towards the young woman. Indicating he would be starting a preliminary interview. Scully nodded and started forward again, when this time Mulder stopped her with his hand. Turning, she watched him as he groped in his pocket and pulled out his room key, leaning closer to her to whisper, "I left one of the files in my room. On the dresser, I think." Accepting the key, Scully nodded once and continued on, heading up the curving staircase. Listening as behind her Mulder introduced himself to the young woman at the desk, his voice jovially polite. Their voices faded from her hearing as she rounded the newel post at the top of the stairs, heading towards their rooms. She saw immediately that Mulder's door was ajar. Suspicion and a mild sort of alarm flared. Slowing her steps, placing each one carefully, Scully neared the door. Her gun hand hovered near her waistline, ready to reach for her weapon. It would do their investigation no good for her to be seen with a gun, or over-reacting to what could be something completely harmless. Pausing in front of the wood surface, she leaned in, head cocked to one side. Footsteps could be heard, and she straightened jerkily just as the door was yanked open all the way. "Oh!" Scully exclaimed softly, unintentionally, and backed up instinctively, her heart thumping and adrenaline pumping. Hand once again hovering near her gun. The man in the doorway, John Carrington, also cried out and retreated back a step. His eyes were wide and filled with surprise, and perhaps a touch of nervousness. He regained his composure quickly however, stepping forward once more to fill the doorframe, although he did dart a glance over his shoulder into Mulder's room before speaking. Clearing his throat, he intoned, "Pardon me, Miss Scully. I apologize for startling you." Scully managed to sound calm when she replied, despite the surge of adrenaline still flowing through her body, her fingers clenching around the key she held in her left palm. "It's quite all right, Mr. Carrington. I think I startled you as well. My apologies also." He jerked a nod at her, and then stepped out, pulling the door shut behind him. She made no protest as he brought up a ring of keys and locked Mulder's door. Pocketing the keys, the Innkeeper slipped past her to move down the hall. A few feet away he stopped, looking back to add, "I've placed fresh towels in both your rooms." She nodded, and waited until he had gone through the doors marked Private at the end of the hallway, having glanced over his shoulder at her once. Though there was no linen cart in the hall, nor had he been carrying any -- dirty or clean -- it was entirely plausible that he had been doing exactly as he had claimed. Moving to her door, Scully found her own room key and unlocked it, stepping inside and shutting it behind her. Her eyes quickly took in the room -- it appeared exactly as she had left it. The laptop was still in its case, leaning against the bureau, along with her briefcase. Neither was locked, and after opening both, she was unable to detect if hands had rifled through the contents; all her files seemed to be in order. Their content could be explained away, fortunately, if John Carrington or even Nancy or anyone else were to find them. As well as having copies of the files on the disappearing women, she also had several files on haunted houses and mysterious phenomenon. Next she checked the bathroom, and indeed there was a small stack of towels on the sink's counter, neatly folded. In Mulder's room, she noted that her partner had unpacked, and as in her room, it was impossible to tell if things had been handled. Frowning, she glanced about and spied the file folder on his dresser, as Mulder had thought. There were a few pages partially peeking out of the manila folder. Grabbing the file folder and tucking the papers neatly inside, she then headed back through the bathroom to her room, where she slid his file into her briefcase and then exited the room. Locking the door, she started back downstairs. The front desk became visible partway, and Scully could see Mulder there talking with the young woman behind it, a wide smile curving his lips. *** End Part 5