occhallenge: Tabitha Wentworth (5/25) (original) (raw)

**Title:**The Adventures of a Secretary (5/25)
Fandom Claim: LXG
Original Character: Tabitha Wentworth
Prompt: Room
Rating: PG-13, for some language
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: 1)A few sections and pieces of dialogue are coming directly from the defunct RPG _the_league--where Tabitha originated—and came out of the collaborative efforts of several people. I'm just organizing them and changing a few things to suit my needs :D
2) I'm Canadian so looking up presidential information was highly entertaining, what with William Henry Harrison ("I died in forty days!"), Lincoln's first VP being named Hannibal Hamlin, and learning Warren Harding's middle initial G was of all possibilities 'Gamaliel.' Fun times.
3) Tabitha's emotional and a worrywart and she doesn't hide it well. Haven't you been paying attention?

". . .I wouldn't want you to get hurt and I'm sure Frank wouldn't either. I mean, what does your husband have to say to all this?"

With her elbows and forearms still smarting from her fall up the stairs, Tabitha's eyes became saucers as a tense silence seemed to fill the meeting room she had just stormed into. That grey-haired farmer did not just say what she thought she heard him say! How did he know Mrs Oakley in the first place? And how did he not know of her very public divorce?!. . .What was his name again? Hickok?

"Excuse me Agent Finn, Agent Sawyer," Tabitha's voice held a slight high-pitch, frantic to ignore the social faux pas the whole room had just been exposed to, not to mention the awkward situation that Mrs. Oakley was now put in. "Ah. . .I'm sorry to interrupt but I have a letter here that Agent Thatcher wrote before she left and I—I think it will explain what she wants everyone to. . .accomplish."

Seeing how Huckleberry was staring at her Tabitha had trailed off, her gaze going from the two confirmed agents to the paper in her hands and back again. The meeting hadn't been finished, in fact all the guests were present, and, as she fought to keep her smile evident, Tabitha had a sinking feeing that tea would have to wait.

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They hadn't known.

Agent Finn and Agent Sawyer had not known that Agent Thatcher had left. And to England no less! Huckleberry certainly hadn't felt the need to keep Rebecca's notes close to his chest as he explained the gist of her letter, angry (and jealous, Tabitha would have guessed) that the woman had absconded from Washington in a hot air balloon no less.

"You couldn't have given me this earlier?"

Tom had seemed equally upset to learn that Rebecca was an agent, something for which Tabitha had no means to explain and felt decidedly uncomfortable conferring over. There was definitely a history between the two.

There had been some argumentative discussion, and then Tabitha had been sent back to her post to await the appearance of one Mister Emmet Collins—a state representative whom Tabitha had heard of at least—but not before she had heard something impossible, something she dared not even breathe.

Someone was going to kill President McKinley.

Tabitha had been a babe when James Abram Garfield was shot while waiting in the Baltimore & Potomac Station there in Washington. Seventeen years in the House of Representatives had earned him a respectable record but four months in the White House found him dying in his sickbed, surrounded by family, in Elberon, New Jersey. From her readings Tabitha knew his assassin was considered a religious fanatic, which never made any sense to her as apparently Charles J. Guiteau was found in the railroad station's ladies room. Also, if someone truly felt their actions were endorsed by the Father (though why people would think God would support the death of any of His Children Tabitha would never know) why hide after the deed was done? Why not stay with your victim and face immediate consequences on a mortal plane if indeed you felt vindicated on a Heavenly one?

Tabitha may not have been the best Christian but she could never imagine being so arrogant.

And now McKinley.

Arthur, Cleveland, and Harrison hadn't amounted to much as far as Aunt Julia had said, but President William McKinley was. . .was popular! As a governor in Ohio he had improved roads and public institutions. He'd cleared up the War last year in no time, had brought freedom to Cuba and increased American acquisitions with Puerto Rico and Guam (wherever they were), and look how well he took care of his poor invalid wife! The United Sates was a world power now thanks to President McKinley! Who would want to kill him?!

"Oh. . .uh. . .my name is Emmet. . .Emmet Collins. I am here to talk to uh. . .Miss Thatcher. Is. . .is she in? Today?"

Tabitha was jerked out of her reverie by a weedy looking man with graying brown hair and very pale blue eyes. He looked a little washed out, in both appearance and demeanor; he wore a commonplace suit and his hands were twitching at his sides. It not for the smattering of a beard he possessed, he would have looked very ill indeed.

"Oh! No Sir, I'm sorry Sir," Tabitha shook her head gently. "Agent Thatcher has ah. . .taken an extended leave of absence, but Agent Finn and Sawyer are expecting you upstairs." Mr. Collins seemed to flinch at each 'Agent' and he kept glancing out the large front windows. Tabitha followed his line of sight but didn't see any awaiting carriage or the like. "If you could jus sign here Sir—"

"Are you off your fucking rocker?!"

Tabitha reared back as if she'd been slapped, the hissed venom coming fast.

"Sir I—"

"Do you even know who I am?!" He leaned into the desk and Tabitha could see those twitchy hands were now shaking white fists. "My name can't be connected to any of this horseshit! Jesus Christ!" Emmet stomped up the stairs, leaving Tabitha sniffling in shock behind the front desk. She stood in silence for a moment, the efforts of the past few days, the energy spent, her failures and faults, swelling internally. With a slow dragging movement Tabitha closed the register, deciding then and there that it would be wiser if she alone filled it out, then turned and unlocked the closet to once again face the mess of files.

It was where she belonged wasn't it?

Out of everybody's way.

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"Tabby, c'mere for a moment."

Tabitha's shoulders dropped immediately on a sigh before her mask of forced cheerfulness snapped into place. She'd been caught up in the monotony of open-skim-categorize that her work called for, trying to destroy the evidence of her sadness that had fallen upon her cheeks while organizing papers not only by identity but continent, country, and state (where applicable) as well. This was something she could do well, something at which she could excel, but her rubbed expression wasn't pretty as she moved out to her desk to face Agent Finn and his undoubtedly oncoming abuse.

"Yes Sir?"

Huck watched her for a moment, taking in her blotchy red face and bloodshot eyes, the cracking smile and dark dress he would've pegged on any of the old biddies back home but not on this slip of a girl he'd met several weeks earlier.

"Listen," he began, more gently than Tabitha expected. "The troops are going to be headin' to a party—a uh Congress party—so Annie and Doc are gonna need a little help. Doc needs a suit and Annie might need a dress so could you help them out with that?" Tabitha blinked and felt some of the tension leave her body.

"Yes Sir," she nodded. "Of course Sir."

"Also, I'm gonna be headin' to New Orleans tonight so Tom's in charge till I get back. It'll be a few days. Got all that?" He had only just returned and he was leaving again? So soon? Tabitha swallowed. Hopefully appearances weren't deceiving when it came to Agent Sawyer.

"I understand Sir." He made her repeat it all anyway but that was perfectly fine; Tabitha was feeling better just being useful.

"Swell. I'll see ya around Tabby."

Agent Sawyer was already waiting outside for his childhood friend and Huckleberry was gone before Tabitha could say a word of goodbye, but it wasn't long before Miss Fitzgerald was thumping down the stairs in an uneven gait, her expression bearing a faint resemblance to an unbroken horse back home that had had to be put down.

"Did he leave?"

"Agent Finn? Yes he—oh."

Tabitha watched as Brigitte walked away, a woman on a mission, and promised herself that from now on she would lock any inappropriate thoughts about Huckleberry Finn far far away and never look at them again.

She even believed she could do it.

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"I think this style in red would suit Ma'am."

Collecting dress samples from Madame Vera had been a trial akin to Jesus in the desert. The rotund, voluptuous woman with her scurrying horde of sewing girls was loud, demanding, and as curious as a cat. Tabitha wouldn't dare admit she was searching for a dress for the Annie Oakley, and had instead spun a white-lie-tale of needing a formal gown herself. She in her heels and Annie in her boots, both women were practically the same height, and even if Tabitha had to swiftly deny a certain ceremony her slight embarrassment was loads better than what poor Mrs. Oakley would have to endure under the scrutiny of Madame Vera.

"Annie. And no red."

The understated blond woman was seated hunched over at the foot of her bed, glancing up at the dresses Tabitha presented with little more than fear and abhorrence. She was not at all what the young clerk expected of a world famous, gun-toting, circus performing divorcee. She had been shy and evasive at the first mention of gowns and frippery—not the attention seeking cowgirl Tabitha would have been just as happy to take care of—and now looked simply resigned, sitting there in trousers and man's shirt, her luminous hair in a low ponytail. "That one's fine Tabitha," she sighed, pointing at the third option. "Just. . .see if they can. . .uh. . .raise the neckline. And long sleeves. I ain't gonna look like some dancing girl." This was the first hard word Tabitha had heard from the woman but she couldn't miss the red appearing in the blonds cheeks.

Tabitha made an assumption and expressed it in her own subtle way.

"Oh no Ma'am!" she smoothed a hand down the skirt of the rather plain sample dress, shaking her head to disagree. "Agent Finn said you were going to a government party and only old ladies and widows would wear sleeves to one of those!" She gave Annie a look of honest female appraisal. "And if you don't mind me saying so Ma'am, you aren't either of those."

She thought she heard Annie snort but it must have been the bed creaking. "I do understand your concerns though," she nodded earnestly. "Madame Vera has more daring than most b-but I swear Ma'am, I swear your dress will be completely respectable." Tabitha toyed with the edge of the skirt. "Do you like green?"

"How 'bout blue?"

"Lavender!"

"Green's fine."

Tabitha nodded and began the process of folding the fabrics back into their large 'MV' embossed boxes. Mrs. Oakley stood, stretched, and moved over to the small generic vanity that occupied a place in each of the Suremount's bedrooms. She fiddled with the brush, adjusted the porcelain wash basin, counted off her own collection of nondescript hair pins.

". . .So how'd you get involved with this?" Tabitha continued her work with the dresses.

"What do you mean Ma'am?"

There was a heavy sigh and Mrs. Oakley continued to face the vanity.

"You don't gotta say anything Tabitha, I mean we all have our secrets—" she stopped abruptly and gave a soft bitter laugh. "Presumably. I was just wonderin' how Huck convinced you to join up here." Another sigh. "You're awful young to be hip deep in all this trouble."

"I'm twenty, Ma'am." The response was automatic but Tabitha's hands paused and she looked over at the older woman. "I. . .I don't understand. My father found me this position Ma'am. I admit it's not really what I expected," she laughed nervously, her smile straining as she continued though so far she had felt at ease in Mrs. Oakley's company, "but at least I—I get to meet so many new people. . .and I'm not living with my Aunt anymore." Annie nodded but said nothing for so long that Tabitha believed their discussion finished and began to stack the boxes, but then the blond woman turned and her question was no longer tentative.

"D'ya even know what's goin' on here Tabitha?"

The clerk swallowed, her response hushed.

"Are you sure then that the President's life is in danger?"

"Your Agent Thatcher sounded pretty sure. Sawyer and Finn trust her word."

"I do too," Tabitha's gaze was guileless. "And I know that you and Miss Fitzgerald and ah the Doctor and Mister. . .Hickok, is it? I know you'll do your best for the American people." Annie wasn't going to be swayed, an angry flush appearing on her flawless cheeks. It wasn't this girl whom she was angry with though.

"We're not heroes Tabitha! I ain't, Bill certainly—" she clenched her teeth, her fingers digging in to the edges of the vanity behind her. "Doc ain't a doctor and—God, I don't know what the hell Brigitte is doing here. Canadian?! What the hell did Finn mean by that?"

"They. . .they're kinda close don't you think?"

Annie was stunned.

"That's one way of puttin' it."

Tabitha nodded, then picked up her load; in a very nice gesture of civility Annie moved quickly to open the door for her.

"Thank you Ma'am. If you need anything, or know of any way I can be of help, please let me know."

"Actually ah. . .Finn mentioned somethin' about files?" Tabitha's face brightened.

"Oh yes Ma'am! Any identifying information you may need for your investigation, I can find it!" Annie opened her mouth but stopped, as if she had just then reconsidered her request.

"Do you think there might be any information 'round about a governor by the name of Wilcott? Jonas Wilcott? Or a 'Charles Gossett'?" Tabitha almost dropped the boxes but Annie laid on a steadying hand.

"Why yes Ma'am! I remember seeing some papers about Mister Gossett today. Should I bring them to you?"

"I—Don'cha think it'd be better bringin' that sort of thing to Sawyer or Finn? They're runnin' this operation aren't they?" Tabitha nodded, thanking Annie for her foresight. The last thing the clerk wanted was for Huckleberry to accuse her of withholding what could be vital information. She would bring Agent Sawyer anything she came across.

"Of course Ma'am. Thank you Ma'am."

As she left Mrs. Oakley's bedroom a door on the other side of the hall opened and Doctor Scurlock stepped out.

"Hello Doctor!" Tabitha chirped. "I'll bring your suit as soon as possible." She continued walking, going very slowly down the hotel stairs.

". . .What suit?"