occhallenge: Tabitha Wentworth (4/25) (original) (raw)

**Title:**The Adventures of a Secretary (4/25)
Fandom Claim: LXG
Original Character: Tabitha Wentworth
Prompt: Book
Rating: G
Story Summary: Tabitha Wentworth always thought her mission in life would be to keep house for her sterling father. Fortunately her family had other ideas and inadvertently gave the young woman a chance at real happiness. They'd take it back if they could.
Author's Notes: Annie Oakley, Bill Hickok, and Josiah 'Doc' Scurlock were real people but the characters presented in this story are based on interpretations which in turn were created by another person. In Bill and Annie's cases. This is my interpretation of Doc. Go Google him, he had an interesting life that wasn't shown in the Young Guns movies—which I don't own! Don't own anything to do with Ginger Snaps either.

'. . . We certainly do not forget you so soon as you forget us. It is, perhaps, our fate rather than our merit. We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us. You are forced on exertion. You have always a profession, pursuits, business of some sort or other, to take you back into the world immediately, and continual occupation and change soon weaken impressions. . .'

The small reading glasses were slowly slipping down the bridge of Tabitha's pert nose but the clerk made no move to reposition them higher. She was riveted completely by the fascinating dialogue of Jane Austen, her face barely an inch away from the well read beige sheets and typeface; it was little wonder that Persuasion was one of her favourites. Tabitha liked to fancy that this was how her mother and father had eventually come together, that Dalton Wentworth had returned from sea knowing he could never forget the beauty and goodness that was Olivia Georges. It was sweeter than the reality in any event, of which Tabitha could not be deceived but could sometimes deny if only to herself. Unlike the heroine Anne, Olivia had been but seventeen on her wedding day and had not been the glowing, happiest, mother-to-be. According to family report. Neither the Admiral nor Aunt Julia had much to say on the subject of Tabitha's late mother.

She had locked the closet and it's files away from prying eyes for today; the staff had been run ragged airing out all the rooms, washing linens, and Tabitha had spent all of yesterday cleaning and organizing the dining room herself—bearing Signora's incomprehensible abuse with a cheerful demeanour while stressing that company would want roast—as well as the second floor's Meeting Room, making sure that the side bar was stocked (Papa always said that thinking men preferred a drink in shared company), that the glasses were spotless, and that the cut crystal ash trays were placed a convenient intervals. Tabitha didn't enjoy the pungent, messy scent of cigarettes but those and cigars—which were another matter entirely—would have to be expected.

A very short telegram had arrived from Agent Finn yesterday morning: 'Guests coming. Probably hungry.' Tabitha had been on the edge of her seat in anticipation ever since. Guests! Actual guests! Her delicately coloured dusty rose dress was perfectly ironed; her brown laced heels were polished to a high shine; there wasn't much she could do with her hair except pull half of it back with the nicer of the two clips she owned. Tabitha wanted to do well by Agent Thatcher and Agent Finn, secretly hoping the later would come back, see her and the success she had had with staff and hotel alike, and forget his initial estimation of her character as a thieving civilian. Perhaps even congratulate her on a job well done. . .perhaps compliment her on her subtle choice of attire for welcoming his new recruits. . .

But it wasn't Agent Finn who walked through the Suremount's front doors that afternoon as Tabitha was hunched over her popular novel.

It was Annie Oakley.

It was honest to God Annie Oakley.

And Tabitha didn't notice she was even there until the beautiful blond politely cleared her throat and placed her black rancher's hat upon the front desk.

Tabitha dropped Persuasion like a hot coal, blue eyes bugging out of her head but moon-bright smile popping in to place. She may have jumped off her stool but Tabitha Wentworth didn't miss a beat.

"Welcome to the Suremount Hotel Ms Oakley," she spoke with pleasure and clearly, as if she saw international celebrities every day of the week. "May I say how glad we are to have you staying with us." The sharpshooter lifted an eyebrow, her gaze darting to Tabitha's hidden hands before giving the clerk a thorough once over. Tabitha didn't notice.

"Sure. . ."

"A room has already been prepared Ma'am." Tabitha produced a discrete key seemingly out of nowhere and placed it gently on the open register. She had found an old one in the closet, the last name accounted for being a 'Natty Bumpo,' but considering it's worn appearance Tabitha had purchased another with her own wages. "And as soon as you sign in I can bring your bags upstairs."

"No, no," Ms Oakley let out a breath and reached for the ink pen, "there's only one bag an' I can handle that." This wasn't the greeting Annie had expected after her meeting with Finn.

Tabitha's smile slipped slightly but it was back to full beam when the famous woman's head lifted.

"Tea is served in the dining room at half past two and—"

"Actually ah—," Annie replaced her hat. "It was a long train ride and I'd prefer not to be disturbed." She was already headed towards the stairs and Tabitha took a moment to notice the presence of trousers in place of a skirt. "If you could let me know when Huck gets here though that'd be much appreciated."

"Oh." Tabitha blinked. "Oh! Yes! Agent Finn. Yes. Of course Ma'am. . ." But Annie had already reached the landing and was out of sight to Tabitha behind the desk. She swallowed. "I'll let you know when. . .Huckleberry. . .comes home."

The front door slammed shut and Tabitha jumped, her head jerking painfully in the direction of the noise and her shocked gazed landing squarely on a scruffy man in a dishevelled tan suit. The coat wasn't buttoned and Tabitha recognized a holster belt around his hips. He carried a doctor's kit in one hand, a large leather satchel bag in the other, and he dropped them both unceremoniously at the desk as he reached for the pen.

"That Annie Oakley?"

Tabitha felt herself pale.

"May I help you Sir?" He finished signing with a vicious flourish and Tabitha expected him to spit on the floor. Soft dirty blond strands fell over a high forehead, obscuring his eyes but were unable to hide his contempt.

"You may tell me where I can find the bar." He tossed the pen back down, already looking around the lobby, moving towards the open dining room. Tabitha snatched a room key off the row, glanced quickly down at the register, and was rushing to keep up, her heels slipping on the scrubbed floor.

"Well ah—ah Doctor!—ah tea isn't served until half past two—"

"I'm not looking for tea," was his sardonic reply. Wooden legs scraped against the floorboards as he pulled out a chair at a table closest to the kitchen doors. "I'll have a whiskey. Bourbon chaser." Tabitha felt her cheeks heat. Signora was gone to church—at least that was to where Agent Thatcher had explained the elderly women regularly disappeared—and what was a chaser?

"W-would you like ice with that?" There was a sigh.

"Did I ask for ice?"

When she didn't return with the bourbon his sigh was audibly frustrated and his look wasn't kind.

"What the hell is this?"

"Sir?"

It continued in similar fashion until Doc shot back what the idiot debutante had brought him and pushed out of his chair with another loud screech, slapping a few bills down on the table.

"Hopefully that'll take care of any early morning wake-up calls," he leaned back with a snort and dragged a hand through his hair. Tabitha bit her lip but didn't pick up the money, her hands slowly coming out from behind her back to hand the Doctor his key. Josiah took it, grumbling. "I wanna know when that hustler gets back." Once again Tabitha was following as the man went back to his luggage.

"Sir?"

"Finn Goddamn it!" Doc turned on Tabitha with a hiss, causing the clerk to inhale sharply in shock. He rolled his eyes, lips thinning. "Just—Miss, you just let me know when that bastard walks through those doors, do you understand?" Tabitha's visage was stiff with tension and so was her rapid nod. She didn't move until the Doctor's steps could be heard upstairs. She collected Josiah's 'tip,' lying to herself that she would step out to buy some fresh flowers later when Tabitha knew perfectly well she would be waiting at her desk until Huckleberry Finn showed himself within the Suremount.

The troublesome voice in the back of her conscience was rearing it's ugly head.

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When Agent Finn finally returned to the Surmount Hotel in the District of Columbia it was barely five o'clock the next morning and he was not alone.

Tabitha was exhausted having only caught a few hours sleep in the early hours after waiting all day in near solitary confinement. She had opened the doors for a suspicious Signora and then resumed her place behind the front desk. Sally wouldn't be fetching the laundry until eleven so the only suitable garment available was one Tabitha had brought with her from Maryland: a high-necked brown and black construction that only emphasized the dark circles under her drooping eyes, with buttons at the cuffs that had always scratched at her wrists and a waist that pinched as it had been cut to Cousin Diana's measurements. She had heard nothing from Ms Oakley or the Doctor and Tabitha gave a great sigh of relief at the sight of Huckleberry's dark head.

"Hu—Agent Finn!" Tabitha pulled a genuine smile together. "How wonderful to see you again! How—"

"Not now Tabby." He looked grim.

His companions didn't appear to be in any finer spirits.

The first was a tall older gentleman with a grizzled salt and pepper beard whose eyes were even older in his thin creased face. His clothes were those of a farmer and shabby but his back was straight; he carried a satchel and what was assuredly a rifle case, and he walked with dignity if not arrogance. His eyes—like Annie's—took in everything. The second was a complete conundrum as Tabitha would have sworn the sallow-faced girl was hardly twenty, nay barely of age to be travelling alone—Perhaps the older man was her father. . .? She had volumes of long untidy hair as black as night and wore an equally black but utterly simple day dress that reminded Tabitha more of a shift than anything to be worn outside of a funeral. She carried no bag and walked with a limp and slight grimace that Tabitha would believed she had imagined in a day or so.

Tabitha plucked up two more room keys and pushed forward the register, opened to a fresh page for a brand new day, her smile no longer reaching her eyes.

"Welcome to the Suremount Hotel," she addressed the older and man and the girl, "and may I say how happy we are to have the pleasure of our company." There was a pause and Agent Finn gave what Tabitha could only be mistaken in thinking was a mean-spirited laugh, his countenance brightening. "Ah. . .Rooms have already been prepared and the dining room is open for your convenience this morning—"

"Alls we wanna do is sleep Tabby."

"Of course Sir," Tabitha nodded, finishing her elucidation. "If you and your ah—guests could just sign here then—"

"Three?"

"Of course Sir," Tabitha's nod was more firm, her expression stuck. "Otherwise how would the staff know—"

"Fine, fine!" his grin was gone and he scrawled his name down with little more than two lines as soon as the gentleman finished his; the girl looked sullenly at the book, Tabitha, and Huck, before finally writing her name down in a gentle slanted script that Tabitha would not have expected from her outward animosity. 'Brigitte Fitzgerald.' The clerk handed over the keys. "Our other guests were asking after you Sir—"

"I ain't seein' anybody now." Huck stated and rubbed at his eyes. The last thing he needed right now was for Becky's exercise in charity to blurt out exactly who those other guests were. "Get the big room ready on the second floor an' have 'em meet there at noon, no earlier." Tabitha watched him look intently at the dark haired girl watched as he smirked. "No roamin' now."

Tabitha felt her heart sink.

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There was a cough.

"Miss? Excuse me Miss?"

There was another cough and then a gently touch to Tabitha's shoulder.

She popped up, smiling, blinking, and absolutely terrified. She had fallen asleep, she had fallen asleep, she had fallen asleep—

"Welcome to the Suremount Sir. How may I help you today?"

He was very tall with a kind face complete with friendly, laughing blue eyes and blond curls peeping out from underneath a well worn hat—"Agent. . .Sawyer?" He had a warm chuckle and boyish smile that reminded Tabitha keenly of her cousins now most likely on their respective berths at sea.

"My reputation precedes me! All good I hope."

"I. . .ah yes. Yes! Of course Sir!" Tabitha shook her head, blinking away her fatigue. This was Agent Sawyer! This was—

"Tom is fine, Miss. . .?"

"Wentworth—Ah Tabitha Sir—Tom! Tom. My name is Tabitha." She put forward her hand and Agent Sawyer seemed pleased to shake her hand. He wore a long duster and carried what resembled an army kit sack across his strong back; it shifted with a metallic clank. Before she could stop herself the question popped out: "How was England?" He laughed and shook his head.

"Well, let's just say that Europeans have funny ways."

Tabitha nodded, all seriousness.

"I've heard that too Sir."

"Yeeeah. . .So Tabitha, I'm looking for a cantankerous friend of mine. Wouldja point me in the direction of one Huck Finn? Is he here?" Tabitha glanced up at the attractive cuckoo clock she'd had hung behind the desk. Goodness, it was tea time already!

"He and the others had a meeting scheduled for noon—"

"In the big room?"

"On the second floor, yes Sir."

"S'pose I should poke my head in then, see if anybody's still around?" He winked and started for the stairs, stopping abruptly on the first step. "Tabitha, I'll hope you'll pardon me for sayin' so but a pretty little thing like you shouldn't be all trussed up like someone just went six feet under." God, maybe someone had. "Just this poor man's opinion." Another wink and he was gone and Tabitha was grinning so broadly she thought her cheeks may crack. For real this time.

Tabitha took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and forcing the blush out of her cheeks. She felt lifted. Rejuvenated. From a few kind words. And Agent Sawyer was absolutely correct. As soon as business was concluded Tabitha was going to cut this dress into rags along with the others that Aunt Julia had had made—or better yet, see if they could be fitted into something nicer for Daisy and the girls. Things seemed so much better as she signed Agent Sawyer's name onto the register.

And then she remembered Rebecca's letter.