asinglewordwilldo: (That Certain Smile)
In his years of dealing with the supernatural, Alva had dealt with many unusual phenomena...demons, malevolent ghosts, possessions, any number of dark or otherwise unpleasant supernatural events. Not all of them were evil, but there had been a very rare handful of occurences worthy of his note that had been honest, redeeming miracles with any quality that might instill a bit of hope or inspiration in the average man.

Still, he had encountered a few...the Shadow Ridge incident, for one, and his first ever viewing of ghost lights. Deborah Olson had been another, with her miraculous salvation from death in saving his own life...and that was without mention of the rather incredible way she'd touched him in a far more personal manner.

But rarely had he ever seen the likes of the current phenomenon he was investigating...and it struck him as equally profound that, had it not been for the clairvoyant in Hartford, who had been killing with his premonitions, Alva would have never stumbled across Star's Hollow.

The name came to him in an interview with a local Hartford newspaper owned by the Huntzenberger Publishing Company, given that the magnate who owned the conglomerate, Mitchum Huntzenberger, resided there. He'd looked the town up in passing...

...and found nothing. Which, in and of itself, was utterly fascinating.

Limited research indicated that the town had literally seen no unusual occurences since its founding in 1779. Natural disasters avoided it, even war had completely avoided the small town, as evidenced by a historic re-enactment that supposedly took place every year...during British occupation, a team of revolutionaries had waited together for a battle which never arrived.

The town had literally seen no ill fortune in over two hundred years.

It was this unusual bit of information that had led Alva to extend his stay in Connecticut and make a side trip to Star's Hollow, which was only a half hour ride from Hartford. Checking out of the hotel he'd been staying in, Alva rented a car and made the journey himself, where a bit of local questioning had led him to cross the path of a rather jovial young woman by the name of Sookie St. James who not only reccomended the Dragonfly Inn to him, but insisted on accompanying him there.

So it was that he found himself being led into the small, cozy little bed and breakfast by Sookie's bright, bubbly chattering.

"Oh, you'll love it here, I promise! I'm making cherry streusel for breakfast tomorrow, with strawberry iced tea! It's going to be *really* good, and Lorelai does a fabulous job with this place...just ignore Michel, he's French. I like your accent better than his anyway, it's*British!* Just a sec, I'll get Lorelai...LORELAI!! WE HAVE A GUEST!!...she'll be right with you in just *one* second, Mr. Keel. I'd stay and chat, but these peaches'll get too soft if I leave 'em in the bag for much longer..."

"Not at all, Ms. St. James." Alva reassured her with a nod and a smile, adjusting his bag on his shoulder as he leaned against the front desk. "Your help has been most appreciated."

As Sookie blushed and hastily headed for the kitchen, catching a swarthy gentleman by the arm to steer him clear of Alva on her way out, he couldn't help but marvel at the air of tranquility in this unusual place as he waited for this Lorelai Gilmore to show herself.

April 2009

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