Plans, Perceptions, and Providence

By Felicia Ferguson

Shane/Oliver Engaged

Author's Note: It's been bugging me that there's been no further mention of the McInerney House in the canon since The Impossible Dream. As I pondered ways to address that oversight with a simple vignette, of course, my writer's brain decided to expand it into a much larger story. I mean, why waste a trip back to D.C.? LOL.

Since this is written pre-SSD 11 (The Vows We Have Made), that movie could blow this story out of the water, but hopefully it will still fit nicely in the canon come October 17th. Credit goes to Laura Daugherty, Momoftwinboys and JoBlaz (as well as my manuscript editors who I'm still waiting to hear from) for changing my mind about writing another full-length letter fic pre-SSD 11.

As always, I own none of the SSD characters. Martha Williamson, writer and creator extraordinaire, and the uber-talented Eric Mabius, Kristin Booth, and others (no spoilers!) have that honor. I merely savor the opportunity to play with them. I hope you enjoy the story!

Chapter 1

Oliver stood at his desk in the DLO holding an email Shane had printed for him from the O'Toole Foundation's email account. "Rita, Norman, I have an update for the Executive Committee of the Board of Trustees, if you would like to hear it?"

Shane looked up from her steampunk desk and smiled as the other half of the board paused their postal duties. Her thumb unconsciously rubbed her engagement ring. She never would have imagined how a merry mix-up could have changed her life in so many ways, but she was so incredibly happy that it did.

When they were all gathered, Oliver cleared his throat and smoothed his tie. "It appears the McInerney House for Retired Postal Workers is ready for our previous comrades in postal service to move in sooner than anticipated. According to the email we received this morning, the manager would like to hold an official ribbon cutting ceremony this Thursday."

Rita clapped her hands and flashed a sweet smile to the others. "Oh, that's wonderful! I hope all the residents enjoy their new homes."

Norman nodded his agreement with a wide grin. Announcement made, the Dormans returned to their regular postal duties as Shane joined Oliver by his desk.

Oliver shifted his gaze from the email to his calendar. "I'll fly out Wednesday and be back before the next department meeting on Friday. Ms. McInerney, would you make my flight reservations using the O'Toole Foundation's account?"

Shane shook her head and grinned at Oliver's slip. He'd been using her given name and Ms. McInerney interchangeably for the last two months, though she did notice he used the Ms. McInerney only when making command decisions. She bit her lip then broached the schedule change she'd been hatching since she first read the email at the Mailbox Grille as they enjoyed their morning coffee. "Oliver, I was thinking. What if I went with you?"

Oliver's brow furrowed, and his mouth dropped open. He glanced at the calendar then folded his hands in front of him. With a quick lift of his heels, his voice continued in his formal section leader tones. "We have only three weeks before the wedding. I thought you would want the time to finish up the last arrangements." He paused as his cheeks pinked with chagrin. "Although it was to be a surprise, I had already scheduled a brief visit for a tour once we were en route to our honeymoon destination."

Shane's lips wrinkled. Which you still haven't told me. For all of Oliver's inability to lie to her, he sure could keep a secret. Thus far no amount of guessing or wheedling had made any impact on his willingness to divulge it. And every attempt only resulted in that same cagey grin he wore in D.C. as they climbed into the taxi and he told the driver to make a stop on the way to the airport.

Fortified by a desperate need for a break from the wedding planning, Shane drew on all of her high school debate skills and set about constructing her argument certain she could change his mind about this quick trip. "The flowers are ordered, and the church is set. The wedding planner is handling the catering and the DJ. Our last fittings aren't 'til the week of the wedding. There's nothing else to do but wait right now." Heaving a frustrated sigh, she shook her head and cast a pleading look his way. "And I'm about to go crazy waiting." Three weeks until they said "I do" and became Mr. and Mrs. O'Toole. Three weeks.

So close, and yet so far away.

Oliver sniffed, still apparently determined in his plan. "It's a simple ribbon cutting ceremony. Wouldn't you prefer to stay here rather than spend two days traveling only to return possibly worn out from such a quick trip?"

Wedding planning had brought out not only Oliver's protective instincts for his bride-to-be, but also his long-dormant stubbornness. Shane's eyebrows lifted, and she tried a different track. "Don't you think I should be there? Even though I won't be using it much longer, it is my name on the building. And besides, covering the DLO on their own for a couple of days will be good practice for Rita and Norman before we're gone next month, right, Rita?"

Rita looked up from her sorting of no zip code letters and adjusted her glasses. She glanced to Norman, who sat at his desk rifling through files. "Of course. Take the rest of the week. Norman can attend the department meeting, and I'll keep up with the incoming items as usual. We've almost finished the Impossibly Ripped and Mangled box, and anything that's left can wait until you get back."

Norman stood and took a deep breath, dropping his hands from their unconscious fidgeting. "We might get a bit behind, but the pending box is empty, and we're in the lull between holidays."

He glanced to Rita and an encouraging smile tickled his lips. "Go on. Enjoy some time before the big day."

Shane could feel Oliver's resolve weakening thanks to Norman's growing boldness and the wedding's current holding pattern, but he wasn't completely convinced. Deciding to sweeten the pot, she shot Rita and Norman a pointed look. Norman, oblivious to her nonverbal cue, glanced to Rita.

Rita prodded him with an insistent head tilt toward the back room followed by a muttered, "Norman."

Comprehension lit his eyes. "Oh, ah, I think, ah, there's something in the back we need to look at, Rita."

"Yes. There is." Rita grabbed his hand and, with an apologetic look for Shane, tugged him to the work room.

Shane flashed her a smile of thanks then turned back to Oliver. Cupping his shoulder, she sighed. "Please, Oliver. I'm going crazy with who can't sit with whom, and who can't eat what, and what music the DJ will play. I need a break." Her lips curved in a teasing grin. "And, this way we could have some couple time."

Oliver's eyebrows lifted with patient amusement as a wry tone slathered his words. "I thought that was the purpose of the honeymoon."

Shane slid her hands over his lapels and leaned into his cheek, contemplating stealing a kiss even though the Dormans were only a room away. "Oh, don't worry. We'll have plenty of other … couple things … to do on the honeymoon."

Oliver's eyes darkened to that intriguing blue, and pulse racing, Shane forced herself to remember there was a fine line between making a case and pushing the envelope. She dropped her hands, yanking her thoughts away from stolen kisses, intriguing colors, and honeymoon activities.

"Mom's been after me to come home for a visit anyway even though she and Alex will be here for the wedding. They might not be able to make the ribbon cutting, but we could at least have dinner with them while we're there." Although they had spoken on the phone multiple times, it would be good for Oliver to meet her mother and sister in person before the wedding.

Oliver sniffed and bobbed his head in a single nod. "On the way back, we could fly up to Buffalo. I know Gloria would enjoy seeing you, and we can confirm her travel arrangements for the festivities."

Shane grinned and returned to her desk, satisfaction at winning the round easing through her. "Perfect. I'll book the tickets."

Oliver followed her and paused as she settled behind the screen. With a glance to the back room, he leaned in to whisper, "First class and a red eye." His lips curved in a slow, heated smile as his eyes warmed with memory. "I love it when you wake up in my arms … Shane."

Shane grabbed her desk, steadying her rollicking pulse, and forced herself to breathe as Oliver left to join Rita and Norman in the back room. Releasing a hitching breath, she shook her head and wondered just how much convincing he really had needed.

Two days later, Oliver and Shane stepped out of their taxi at 707 Terracoma Place in Alexandria. Oliver flashed a pleased one-sided smile at Shane's delighted sigh. Gone was the vacant lot dotted with only remnants of her childhood, and in its place stood an expanded replica of her ancestral home. A discreet bronze sign detailing the house's name and address was affixed to a stone column near the street. Yellow and red rose bushes lined the brick walkway and surrounded the house. A mature maple grew in the side yard ready to provide ample hours of tree climbing for the residents' grandchildren as they visited.

The porch had been expanded to hold two swings and a handful of rocking chairs, allowing plenty of opportunity to laze away the afternoons with pleasant conversation and a beautiful view of the front garden. A long yellow ribbon with a huge bow was strung between the columns at the top of the staircase to the porch.

"Wow. Oliver. It's even more incredible than the pictures."

He had told her the truth about his plans, albeit minus one detail. The ribbon cutting had been planned as a surprise first stop on their honeymoon. But even though the project's early completion date upset his carefully laid plans, Oliver realized the timing had come together perfectly. The tense frustration Shane had carried for the last two months eased from her shoulders as she fell asleep in his embrace on the plane. And now, her unreserved joy at seeing the McInerney House bid that stress a final good-bye. Both sights more than compensated for the stab irritation he'd felt at the timeline change.

Offering his arm, he escorted Shane up the walk, pausing as she touched the blooms and leaned down to inhale their heady fragrance. Lifting the ribbon, they ducked under it careful not to mar the bow, then walked to the swings.

Oliver placed his hand over hers where it rested in the crook of his elbow. Giving her fingers a light squeeze, he asked, "What do you think?"

Shane's grin turned misty. She threaded her fingers into his, linking them together and nodded. "They're perfect."

The front door opened revealing a short, thin man with curly red hair and dark brown eyes. "Mr. Campbell," Oliver greeted. "I'd like you to meet the residence's namesake. This is Ms. Shane McInerney, soon to be O'Toole."

Shane flashed a wide grin at Oliver then extended her hand. "This place is just beautiful."

"Thank you. And it's a pleasure to meet you." A light accent lilted his words. "Please do, come inside. We're expecting a bit of a fuss with the press, and a few of the new residents will begin moving in today, but that won't be for an hour or so. Plenty of time for a full tour."

Oliver studied the interior as Mr. Campbell expounded on the details. The architect had created a masterful addition to Shane's ancestral home, expanding it to twenty suites with a common area, library, and dining for all residents. Except for Campbell, the staff wore uniform polo shirts in post office blue.

As they returned to the first floor, a familiar voice called from the front door. "Shaney? Are you here yet?"

Shane squeezed Oliver's arm then rushed to tug Rebecca Starkwell Robbins into the foyer. "Becky, oh, I'm so glad you could make it!"

Becky's lips spread into a wide, mischievous grin. "I made it a priority, ha! John had an emergency meeting, but he's definitely coming to the wedding even if we have to fly separately."

The Director of Special Projects and the Denver DLO's boss reached around Shane and grabbed Oliver's arm. "I can't tell you how glad I am that chick in Paris left you, Oliver. You've got the best girl in the whole world."

Oliver's lips twitched at Becky's rhyme, but contentment and certainty warmed his heart. "I know. But thank you for the confirmation. And for standing up with us at our wedding."

A light tap on Oliver's shoulder silenced any further comment. Oliver turned to find Campbell standing next to an older woman. "Mr. O'Toole, Ms. McInerney, Ms. Starkwell, I'd like you to meet Myrna Rogers. She was a postal carrier at the Langley branch for twenty years. She'll be in suite 102."

"I can't tell you how excited I am about living here." Between the radiant glow and Jersey accent, Myrna Rogers could have been Eleanor van Teasdale's sister. Sadness whispered through Oliver at the reminder of the Denver branch's former passport supervisor. She had been a good friend both at work and church, encouraging his relationship with Shane over the years with slight hints and powerful prayers. Though the new supervisor was efficient, she was no Eleanor.

Myrna took Oliver's hand, giving it an enthusiastic pump and pulling him from his reverie. "Such a change from my daughter's house. No babies crying in the middle of the night. Not that I don't love my grandchildren, but when you get your kids raised, the last thing you want to do is start over with bottles, diapers, and wails."

Oliver gave an uncomfortable nod at Myrna's oversharing, then glanced to Shane for rescue. But his eyes caught the arrival of the TV station van in front of the building. Relieved, he jumped on the opportunity. "Mr. Campbell, I believe the press are here. Shall we—"

Myrna grabbed Oliver's arm. He cringed, but reading the insistent, if not borderline urgent, plea shading her gaze, he took in a quick breath and braced himself for her new topic.

"If you don't mind, Mr. O'Toole, I have something for you. I found it when I was packing to move in. It was in the bottom of my old mail bag."

She flicked a quick guilty look toward Becky. "I know I shouldn't have kept it, but with all the memories I have attached to it, I couldn't bear to part with it. So, I snuck it out on my last day." Myrna held out what appeared to be a tube of lipstick.

Brow furrowing, Oliver questioned the significance.

Becky was equally mystified. "A lipstick? Couldn't that just be yours?"

Myrna shook her head. "I thought that at first, but when I opened it, I knew it wasn't mine. I wear a frosted pick and this is a dark red—almost the color you're wearing, Ms. McInerney."

Oliver still failed to see the problem. But Shane's cautionary squeeze to his hand as he would have attempted to redirect Myrna silenced his words. She turned an encouraging and curious look toward him.

Oliver swallowed his impatience. "Go on, Mrs. Rogers."

Myrna beamed then, glancing between the three of them, she fiddled with the base of the tube. "When I went to recap it after checking the color, something felt funny. The tube you see, it felt too heavy for what little bit of lipstick was actually inside. That's when I found it."

"Found what?" Shane asked, her curiosity shifting into high gear. Becky leaned in closer, equally intrigued by Myrna's words.

Myrna flipped open the bottom of the tube revealing some sort of computer attachment.

Shane took the tube and ran a finger over it. "A USB drive?"

Confusion wrinkled Oliver's brow, and he glanced from the tube to Shane and then Becky seeking clarification. "I'm sorry, a what?"

A small smile flickered over Shane's lips as she studied the protuberance. "It stores information, files, pictures, anything digital really, in a small transportable drive. But, what on earth is it doing attached to a tube of lipstick?"

Satisfaction lit Myrna's eyes. "That's what I wondered! And when I heard the two of you would be attending the ribbon cutting, I knew you were the perfect people to pass this onto."

Becky stepped back and turned a considering look toward Myrna. "Mr. Campbell said you worked out of the Langley post office as a mail carrier?"

"That's right."

Becky's hands spread wide. "Maybe it fell out of an envelope sent from there?"

Postal detective skills now on high alert, Oliver studied the contraption with greater interest.

Myrna nodded, her gaze flicking between Shane and Oliver. "And it would have had to have been within the last six months. I know because I tripped one day on my route and spilled everything out of the bag. It was a nightmare getting everything reorganized, and my delivery took twice as long that day. I know I would've found it then."

Shane's eyes glinted, and her smile grew wide and intrigued. "Well, it looks like we've got an unattached item to deliver, Oliver."