Mary wakes from a fitful sleep, Steve's words of goodbye still ring in her ears. She knows she'll see him again, but something tells her it won't be for long or under good circumstances. Steve is loyal, she knows this, but he was loyal to others before her. Call it 'spy' intuition, but every call from command can change a person in big ways and small.

She finds herself tempted to spend her day lying in the hotel room bed, she can't remember the last time she truly rested...without a chopping block above her head. And S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn't contacted her yet.

She tries to will her body to stay put and it is her mind that betrays her; thoughts always drift back to Steve.

With a heavy sigh, Mary tosses the covers off and ready's herself for the day. The old style clock on the nightstand only reads nine in the morning and sweet, breakfast aromas waft under the door, pulling her to the lodge's social area.

The spread Mrs. Johnson has left out is just as good as the day before. Mary pulls a plate from the end of the line and finds herself behind a tall man. He looks over his shoulder at her and she offers a 'good morning.'

His brows pull together, as his lips tighten and he moves away from her to continue filling his plate. Mary recognizes him as the man she saw the other day working on the door behind the front desk. That was odd, she thinks while her senses pique at the unusual and cold greeting he bestowed. She watches him as he keeps piling his plate with food and then disappears behind the check in desk. It's a peculiar sight to see his large body, stuffed behind the desk, instead of Mrs. Johnson's frail frame.

There was something definitely unsettling about the man that Mary kept finding herself shooting glances at him over her breakfast food from her place at the communal table. There was only her and two others seated, an older couple visiting friends in town. They were caught up in their own conversation and didn't pay much attention to Mary, perhaps because of the scowl on her face and the all black clothing or maybe they just enjoy each other's company enough not to bother her.

As Mary puts her finished plate on the tray she hears a shout come from the front entrance. The door is open wide and cold, winter air blows in snow. A woman is standing at the door, pointing her finger at the man behind the check in desk and yelling, "I know what you are. I know what you are." Mary watches as the man's face becomes flushed with red and he jumps up toward the woman. Instinct pulls her to stand at the woman's side as he approaches her. They reach the woman at the same time and Mary shifts her body in front of the woman, scowling up at the man, as he is quite a bit taller than her.

"Move," he snarls, his face bright red and pinched together.

Mary can feel the small woman's trembling body behind her and she doesn't move even slightly.

"I know what you are. I know what he is," the woman keeps whispering.

"I'm calling the police."

"That won't be necessary," Mary says, her voice calm, but firm. "I'll get her out of here. Come on, miss."

The man grabs her upper arm, his grip is strong and Mary whirls on him, her nostrils flaring and she tries to pry his fingers. His grip is like a vice.

"Under whose authority." His voice is deep and quiet, as he returns Mary's glare.

"You need to let go of me," Mary warns him and when he does no such thing, she twists her arm, kicks at his shins to send his feet sprawling and punches him in the throat on his way down. Standing over top of him, one foot on his left bicep and the other beside his ribs, Mary grabs him by the collar of his shirt where she can read the name of the hotel in gold embroidered thread.

"Find somewhere new to stay," he spits at her.

She shoves him back to the ground and says, "fine by me." Turning to the woman, who is still standing by the open, cold door with wide eyes, Mary motions for her to follow. Robotically they make their way up the stairs to Mary's room.

It takes Mary less than six minutes to gather all her things from the small room. All her tactical training has prepared her to be ready for anything and to leave as quickly as possible. The other woman has so far stayed quiet during the entire process and as Mary closes the door behind them she finally regards the woman.

"What is your name?"

The woman is short with a mess of windblown hair around her face, she's wearing a large brown coat that falls past her knees and a red scarf wrapped around her throat. She can't be older than twenty from Mary's guess, she finally looks up at Mary with wide brown eyes.

"Sadie," she says quietly.

"Okay, Sadie, I want you to stay close behind me. We'll have to go out the front door and I want to avoid another altercation. Once we're safely in the truck, we'll ?"

She nods her head vigorously and immediately tucks in behind Mary. Mary slings her gear over her shoulders and they swiftly make their way down the stairs.

She glances over at the desk as they come into the main lobby, and the man is standing behind the counter glowering at them both.

As soon as the cold air hits her face, Mary looses a breath she didn't realize she was holding. They dart across the parking lot as Mary unlocks the door and tosses the bags into the back. Sadie slides into the passenger side as Mary immediately locks the doors and fires up the engine. Turning the heat up and rubbing her hands together, willing the friction to create warmth, she turns to the girl.

"I need you to tell me what just happened in there."

The girl opens her mouth, closes it and begins viciously pulling at the hem of her ragged coat. "I—"

A loud crash can be heard behind them. Still parked close to the small motel, Mary swivels in her seat to look out the trucks back window. The large window of the building has been shattered and someone is lying sprawled across the snowy parking lot.

Lurching into action, Mary shouts, "Stay here."

"Wait!" The girl cries out and Mary barely hears her as she darts to the body. Red is blooming around their head and abdomen, the red a stark contrast against the pure, white snow. She rolls the body over and sees it's the man she just got into a fight with. He groans and she realizes he's still alive. Gathering her surprise, Mary begins performing first aid. First she has to figure out where all the blood is coming from. There's a cut above his eyebrow, probably from when he went through the window, but it shouldn't be creating this much blood around his body. She begins roaming her hands along him and when she passes a hand over his left ribs, her fingers come away red.

She puts pressure and the man whimpers in pain. "Don't—" His body racks with violent coughs and he says, "bother."

Mary furrows her brow, removing her hand to rip cloth from the bottom of his shirt. "What happened?" she asks.

He grabs her wrist and she stops her task. People have begun to gather and she asks if someone has called an ambulance. When many heads bob an affirmative she focuses on the dying man again.

"I need you…" He coughs up blood in between words. "I need you to help me."

Mary is taken aback by the request and the oddity of the situation she finds herself in with him. She nods her head, not wanting to waste his energy with an argument.

"The mutants."

"I need you to help me keep them...safe. Someone is…" More coughing and Mary fights the urge to wince. "...trying to kill them all."

His fingers are still wrapped around her wrist and he squeezes them now. "Please. Help them. Find who...who's doing this."

"I will," Mary says. "I promise. I will help them for you."

The man searches her face, looking for the truth in her words. When he is satisfied, he takes in one last rattled breath and then his chest stops rising and falling, his eyes turn glassy. Mary closes his eyelids and hears people crying behind her and the distant sound of sirens.

"Is he dead?"

"Yes," Mary says and gets up. She sees the speaker is Mrs. Johnson.

"He's my son in law," she says between sniffles and big, fat tears roll down her face.

Shocked Mary moves to the old woman, resting a hand on her arm. "I'm so sorry."

"What—what did he say to you? As he was dying...he looked so determined while he spoke to you."

Mary contemplates sharing with the woman the promise she made, she could inadvertently compromise the mission set before her. She decides to tell a half truth and see if the old woman knows anything.

"He asked me to help a group of people, that they were in danger."

Mrs. Johnson nods her head solemnly. "The mutants," she states simply.

"Y-yes." Mary is rarely caught off guard and she didn't expect the woman's blatant statement.

"He was helping them. Someone's been killing them...someone killed his family-my family." She must read the quizzical look Mary shares because she sadly says, "my daughter and grandchild were mutants. They were killed three months ago. Many mutants come here, it's remote and safe. But someone has found them and is hunting them. Please, you have to help them."

"I will," Mary says firmly, spurred by the resolve in the woman's voice. "And you, are you a mutant?"

Mrs. Johnson smiles sadly and says, "Of a sort." Mary doesn't push, understanding the need to closely guard secrets.

Mary learns the cause of death was a knife wound shoved under the left ribs towards the heart before Jim, as she now knows his name, went through the window. And there's no trace of the murderer. After talking to the police, giving a statement, signing paperwork Mary finally gets back into her truck and realizes with a start that the girl is no longer in the passenger seat. Truthfully, Mary had forgotten about her in the midst of the excitement. Something about the girl tugs at Mary's instincts though and she wonders if the girl, Sadie, plays a larger role in all this.

Mrs. Johnson promised Mary's room back to her, and guiltily Mary retreated there with her gear. Someone is killing mutants, presumably a human and Mary needs to figure out who before someone else is killed. She's tempted to call Steve and get his help, but doesn't want to pull him away from his own obligations.

Taking a long hot, shower, Mary scrubs Jim's blood off her hands and arms, when she gets into warm dry clothes she pulls up her computer to begin research. Everyone has skeletons in their closet and it's time to discover the secrets of this small town, before it's too late.

A little bit of a filler, hoping to wrap up the story in two more chapters :) And I promise one more Steve/Mary moment. Thanks for reading!