Travel. Laurel hated it, especially by bus. Ever since the long span of travel that had taken her to Harper Rock and her new, unusual life, she'd come to hate traveling. The only thing she did like about it was that bus travel didn't require her to leave behind her shotgun and pistol.

After a short span of time spent sitting at the border between Canada and the good old United States of America, the bus finally took her to a train station in Montana. From there, she'd made her way by train to the state of Maine. One of the spirits she'd summoned while trying to decide where to go had informed her of a town full of magic – or so the spirit had claimed.

Laurel had to admit, following the advice of a spirit had once seemed positively insane to her. But now, she had conversations with them. Regularly. Whenever she needed a little energy boost, there it was – the power to summon them.

She used it too often. It was becoming a crutch.

The "borrowed" vehicle she drove – a 1976 Gremlin – wasn't helping her mood much, and neither were the absolutely irritating contacts she wore to make her pupils look human. She'd never gone to so much effort and never would again.

Finally. There it was. The sign she'd been waiting to see.

WELCOME TO STORYBROOKE

Laurel couldn't help a triumphant smirk as she drove past the quaint sign…until the vehicle's engine began to clank and clatter.

"Oh, don't you dare," Laurel said, smacking the dash. "You got me this far! Just get me to town…get me to the first building, at least!"

The vehicle responded to this by promptly dying in the middle of the street. Laurel, irritated to no end, pounded the side of her fist into the dashboard, before shoving the seat back and attempting to restart the car via hotwiring it.

"You stupid piece of shit," she muttered as she touched the wires together multiple times, "if you don't start, I'm sending you to the nearest scrap-yard the second I get into town."

Of course, it refused to restart. So, Laurel grabbed the duffel bag she'd packed with clothes, two pairs of shoes, ammunition, and her prized guns, slung it over her shoulder, and began trekking to the town proper, her golden eyes flashing side to side as she made sure that her shadowing was appropriate. That was the most annoying part of the whole thing.

Upon reaching the local inn, Granny's Bed & Breakfast, Laurel hoisted the duffel bag higher, even as she heard a commotion from inside. It sounded like at least half the town was inside.

"Face the locals or flee," she mused sarcastically as she walked up to the front door, finding it – surprisingly – locked. "Well, that's no fun."

Suddenly, though, the door flew open, revealing a brunette about her own age with wide eyes. The other woman sniffed at her, even as Laurel took in her face.

"I have never seen you before in my life," she said softly. "Who are you?"

Laurel rolled her eyes. "My name's Laurel Cameron. I'm in town on vacation, so of course you wouldn't know me from before. Is it at all possible to get a room here?"

The woman smiled nervously. "Hello, Laurel…I'm Ruby," she said, turning her head and calling, "Granny!"

An older woman came to the door and pulled it wider, yanking it from Ruby's grip and giving Laurel a view of the front room of the inn. There was absolutely nobody. It seemed that the commotion she'd heard had been an argument between the two women.

"Well, who's this?" she asked, sounding stressed.

"Granny, this is Laurel Cameron – she's here on vacation," Ruby said, grinning.

"Hello," Laurel said, extending a hand. "I was wondering if you knew any tow companies in town – my car broke down just this side of the welcome sign – and if you had any available rooms here."

Granny sighed, annoyed. "Come on in, Ms. Cameron – I take it you're on your own?"

"I am."

The older woman shuffled behind the counter, pulling a key from a rack as she slid a ledger toward the young visitor. "Put your name down," she said. "We're a bit old-fashioned around here."

"I appreciate it," Laurel said, signing her name to the book in a flourish, following it with a printed version. "Computers are too impersonal, in my opinion."

"I very much agree with that," Granny said, handing a key to her guest with a smirk. "Welcome to Storybrooke. Ruby will show you to your room."

Ruby led Laurel up the staircase, pointing things out occasionally. Laurel didn't really pay attention. Her mind was focused on something of vital importance.

Feeding.

In a small town, people would talk. She knew this. It was a major risk to the Masquerade, she knew that, but she had to take it. Everyone she knew would be angry if she made things impossible here in Storybrooke, and if the worst happened, if she died here in Storybrooke, she would be unable to return.

Unless.

Unless the magic in this quaint little town had caused an inexplicable second rift between this realm and the spirit world, the Shadow Realm. She had no choice but to hope that was the case.

"So," Ruby said as they reached the room that Laurel's key would unlock, "that's the place. If you need anything don't be afraid to ask us, okay?"

"I only have one request."

"What would that be?"

"I'm a night owl. Literally. I don't wake up until sunset. If any maid service or whatever could possibly be held off until I'm down the stairs…I'd be amazingly grateful."

"We can do that. Welcome to Storybrooke!" And Ruby headed down the stairs again, leaving Laurel to unlock the door and lay down on the bed, folding her arms under her head.

"Welcome to Storybrooke indeed."

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