Send Her My Love
Snapegirlkmf
This is for all you Swanfire fans out there—don't stop believing! (and yes, I love Journey . . . can you tell from the title?)
The card was on the counter beside the coffee maker in Neal's apartment. It was a large card with an embossed rose on it in traditional Valentine's day colors of red and pink and on the inside was simple sentiment—just a reminder, to let you know how special you are to me, on this day and every day, you have my heart. Will you give me yours in return? If so, meet me on the beach at 2:00. Happy Valentine's Day! He had bought it on a whim the other day, and had signed his name on the bottom and addressed it to Emma.
Today was Valentine's Day and still it sat on the counter. He hadn't even attempted to mail it, citing in his head all the typical excuses-he'd been busy, he'd forgotten it was there, he'd had Henry this weekend, the litany went on and on. But the real reason lurked in the back of his mind. He was afraid. Afraid she wouldn't respond to him. Afraid she didn't have feelings for him any longer. They had Henry, but it wasn't as if the kid could keep them together when one of them no longer loved the other. He had told her when she had rescued him from the cage on Neverland that he still loved her and would never stop fighting for her. But that was before Hook had made himself a factor in their relationship.
Neal felt his gut clench as he thought about the pirate. Hook belonged to another time and another era, and once he had claimed to love Neal's mother forever, citing her death as his whole reason for revenge upon his papa, Rumplestiltskin. Then again, Hook had also claimed he would protect Neal, back when he was a kid known as Baelfire, and the pirate had sold him out to the Lost Boys, trapping him on that Godforsaken island. And now . . . now the man claimed he loved Emma—his Emma.
She isn't your anything now, he reminded himself. Except Henry's mom. But once she was. Once . . . she was my everything . . . until I listened to that damn puppet boy and abandoned her . . . I ran away just like my papa . . . . Neal thought disgustedly. Then he shook his head. No . . . that was wrong. Rumple had told him many times that he had never intended to break his deal with his son, that it had been a momentary bout of panic, and abandonment was done with the intent to leave, and he'd never intended that. But Neal had. He'd listened to slick tongued August, letting the clever puppet boy make him dance to invisible strings nicely, and abandoned Emma to her fate. Granted, he hadn't known August would rat her out, or that she would go to jail for his own crime, hell, he'd even trusted the guy to give Emma the Bug and the money when she got out . . . and Booth had betrayed him, only keeping half of his deal and taking the money and splitting with it, leaving Emma the car.
Neal hadn't known that, hadn't even suspected it, until he'd come to Storybrooke and made such a screwed up mess with Emma and Tamara. When would he stop being such a stupid idiot? And trusting the wrong people? There had only ever been one person he trusted with his heart. And he'd lost her and didn't know if he could ever get her back.
He moved the card, setting it on the table, and went to make himself a cup of coffee. As he did so, a door opened and Henry came out, wearing his school uniform and carrying his backpack over his shoulder. Trotting beside him was his dog, Maura, a lovely collie, about three years old, which Neal had gotten for him at the shelter. Maura stayed over his apartment, though, because the loft was too crowded for four people and a large hairy dog. And Neal didn't mind the company.
"Hey, Dad. What's for breakfast?" Henry asked, tossing his backpack down beside the kitchen table. As he did so, a freak gust of wind caused the card to fall onto the floor. Henry bent to pick it up, just as Neal answered, "Uh . . . how's waffles with strawberries and chocolate chips, sound?"
"Great!" his son said, and picked up the card, noting the address. It's for my mom, he thought, then wondered why his dad hadn't sent it yet. Today was Valentine's Day. Henry bit his lip and stared at the red envelope. Unless . . . he had decided not to. Henry had hoped that after Neverland, his parents would try to get back together . . . he knew that they loved each once, and thought they still did . . . but both of them were so stubborn . . . and so afraid of . . . what? Falling in love again?
Henry sighed and almost put the card back on the table. His Grandpa Charming had said that Emma thought she couldn't have a relationship because she was too busy with responsibilities. And his other grandpa, Rumplestiltskin, had murmured once in his hearing to Belle that Neal was afraid to risk being rejected again, and that bloody pirate wasn't helping his self-confidence any. Henry thought Hook was lucky Rumple hadn't hexed him to the moon or a deserted island by now. Unless Neal had asked him not to interfere. That would be very like his dad. But someone had to do something. Left on their own, Emma and Neal would still be trying to pretend they didn't need or want each other, when that was a lie bigger than Pinocchio's nose!
But then he got an idea. A very clever, sly, wickedly inventive idea. One worthy of Rumplestiltskin, if he'd known about it.
He tucked the card in his pocket, then got up and said, "Maura, go get your leash, girl." As the collie went over and took her red leash down from the hook on the wall, Henry said, "Dad, while you're cooking breakfast, I'm going to walk Maura, okay?"
"Okay, kid. These ought to be done in about . . . ten minutes," Neal said, mixing up the waffle batter in a bowl and then cutting up the strawberries. "Then I'll walk you to the bus stop."
"I can walk myself," Henry said.
"I know, but you know why I don't want you doing that," Neal reminded his son quietly.
"I know," the boy sighed. Pan had attempted to get free of Pandora's Box once they were back in Storybrooke, by using Felix as his catspaw, and Felix had tried to kidnap Henry again, and use him as a sacrifice to give Pan enough power to free himself from the box. The attempt had failed, thanks to Regina and Rumple, but it made his parents extra-cautious about letting their son go anywhere alone. He was lucky Neal was letting him walk the dog by himself.
Henry snapped Maura's lead onto her collar and the dog nearly dragged him out the door. Neal's apartment was on the ground floor, so they didn't have far to go to reach the street. Henry walked the collie on the small plot of grass nearby and afterwards he pulled the card out of his pocket and held it out to the collie.
"Here, Maura," he said softly.
The dog took the card gently in her mouth. Henry had taught her several things in the two months since they'd gotten her, and one of them was to hold things gently in her mouth and bring them places. The collie wagged her tail and looked at him, the card sticking out from between her teeth.
"Okay. Now here's what you gotta do," Henry told her, kneeling and looking into her eyes. "You gotta bring the card to Emma, Maura! Bring it to Emma! And then leave it there! Okay?"
The dog whined faintly.
"Understand? Bring the card to Emma! Then leave it!" he repeated the command again, and then a third time before he unsnapped her lead. "Now, go, Maura! Go bring the card to Emma!"
The collie trotted off down the street. She knew the way to the police station, having accompanied Henry there lots of times before.
Henry watched her go, and prayed she would do as he'd told her, bring the card to Emma and then leave it there. She was a smart dog, and he had trained her well.
Well, here goes nothing. Special delivery by collie. Henry crossed his fingers and waited.
Five minutes later Maura was back, panting happily, without the card. Henry knelt and petted her. "Good girl!" he praised, laughing as she licked him. If the collie had done her job, Emma now had the Valentine's day card and what happened next was up to her.
Henry prayed she would do the right thing.
Then he stood up, brushed the hair off his pants, and went back inside to eat breakfast, with Maura following him.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Emma stared at the Valentine's Day card in her hand. She hadn't even remembered today was Valentine's Day until Maura had come and scratched on the door of the station to be let in with this in her mouth. She had petted the dog and given her a biscuit before letting her out again to go back home to Neal and Henry. She wondered who's idea that had been, having the dog deliver the card. It was cute, she thought. Cute . . . and now she had an invitation she didn't know how to answer.
There was nothing going on right now that needed her attention, so she was free to stare at the pretty card with its hearts and roses theme and ponder the wisdom of going to the beach to meet Neal for as long as she wanted.
Should I or shouldn't I? she thought in consternation. That is the question. God, now I'm paraphrasing damn Shakespeare! She thought disgustedly. Maybe I ought to go out and buy a flower, so I can pick the petals off while saying he loves me, he loves me not. I'm so pathetic! Because I already know that he loves me. Question is—do I love him?
Once that would have been easy to answer. But she'd had twelve years and what felt like a lifetime to build a wall around her heart . . . and the wall wasn't coming down anytime soon. She'd told David she was too busy to have a relationship, but that wasn't quite the truth. She was busy . . . but she wasn't that busy. Come on, Emma. You know why you haven't gone to meet him anywhere the past two months. Because you know what might happen . . . and it scares you to pieces.
Because she knew it would be so easy . . . to fall in love all over again with the man who had broken her heart.
I love you and I'll never stop fighting for you. Damn you, Neal! Damn you, Baelfire! Why the hell is nothing in my life ever easy?
Back on Neverland it had been easy . . . . her mission had been to focus on saving her son, not on her love life—or the two men who tried to claim her heart.
But now . . . now she had to make a choice.
I feel like Scarlett O'Hara, having to choose Ashley or Rhett, she thought wryly. Actually, no she didn't. For the more she thought about it, the more she realized that her choice had been made long before Neverland. When she had held Neal's hand after he was shot and dangling over that portal, she had told him the deepest secret of her heart. That she loved him.
And you still do.
That was what scared her. Because he'd gotten past her walls, without even trying, gotten past her anger and her resentment, and damn it all, he'd done it with that same sexy grin and that sparkle in his eyes. She hadn't intended to forgive him . . . but once she had seen him, talked to him, and found out he didn't know that August had doublecrossed him, her anger had begun to wane. It had surfaced again with Tamara, that cheating little ho, but once she'd shot Neal, all that had been left was grief that once again she had lost someone she loved.
Story of my life, she thought wryly.
She looked at the card again, now sitting atop the pile of paperwork on her desk.
Should I or shouldn't I?
Take a chance, Emma. Follow your heart.
She sighed and sat down in front of the computer. Her phone buzzed and she picked it up. There was a text from her mother.
Happy Valentine's Day, sweetie!
Emma smiled. Happy Valentine's Day, Mom! Hope yours is better than mine. She set the phone down and started going through her email. The card bored a hole in her back as she did so.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
After he had made sure Henry had gotten on the bus, Neal went to the grocery store to pick up some more staples—eggs, milk, bread, and stuff to make tacos, because he felt like having them. He was putting everything away in the fridge when he realized the card was missing.
Now where the hell did I put it? It was here this morning.
After a frantic search turned up nothing, he snarled a swear word and thought, now he had to go out and buy another card. And the first one had been so perfect!
Sighing, he pulled on his jacket and started walking over to Clark's pharmacy.
He had almost reached the door when it opened and his father walked out, holding a bag and a bunch of roses in his hand. Neal almost crashed into him.
"Papa, my God!"
"Bae!" Gold exclaimed, nearly falling backwards as he tried to get out of the way.
"Hey, are you okay?" his son asked, instinctively reaching out a hand towards his parent, forgetting for a moment that Rumple was no longer crippled. "I'm sorry, I was thinking and I—"
"—you forgot to look where you were going," Rumple finished. "You used to do that a lot when you were a kid. You were forever bumping into the walls, a chair, my wheel . . ."
"Yeah, I remember," Neal flushed. "It's a good thing they didn't have DYFUS over there, somebody would have reported you for the amount of times I fell down and got bruised and scraped. And nobody would have believed me when I said I walked into a door."
"Tell me about it," Rumple shook his head. "That time when you cut your eyebrow open . . .you were bleeding all over like a stuck pig and I had to drug you with poppy syrup so I could stitch it closed . . ."
"What was I—six?"
"Something like that, yes."
"I still have a little scar here," Neal tapped his one eyebrow, where a faint scar was visible just below it.
"You were lucky. A half-an-inch lower and you would have poked your eye out," Rumple said.
"I was lucky you knew how to sew," Neal replied. Then he glanced at the roses in his father's hand and said, "A present for Belle?"
"Yes. Somehow the arrangement I ordered got delayed," Rumple snorted. "So I had to run out and buy these."
"They're nice," Neal said, wishing he had the guts to give Emma flowers. "I'm here for sort of the same reason. I . . . lost my card. I had it this morning and then it . . . disappeared. So now I have to buy a new one. What a pain!"
Rumple nodded. "I hope you find one, because the selection looked pretty thin when I was in there."
"Damn it!" Neal was exasperated with himself. This was so typical of his luck. He started to go inside the pharmacy when Rumple caught his sleeve.
"Wait, Bae. Why don't you just . . . forget a card and take this instead?" He pulled a long stem rose from his bouquet and held it out to his son. "You remember what I taught you about the language of flowers?"
"Yeah."
"So . . . give her this. And then wish her Happy Valentine's Day," Rumple said.
"That's all?"
"Well, I find sometimes the simple gifts are the best," Rumple advised.
Bae took the rose. "Thanks, Papa."
"You're welcome, son."
"I'd better get back home. I need to let Maura out. And it's almost twelve thirty." He would just have time to cook the ground beef and season it before he went down to the beach. Whoa! When were you going to do that? She won't even know you're there. So what? I'll take the dog for a walk. And see what happens.
"Just be careful not to walk into the door," Rumple teased.
"Very funny," Neal said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not spending this holiday in the hospital."
"I hope not. Now quit worrying and just . . . trust your instincts."
"You're telling me I should just . . . follow my heart?"
"Yes. For what it's worth, there's my two cents."
Neal grinned. "Okay, Papa. Have a Happy Valentine's Day."
"You too, Bae. Good luck!" Rumple waved as he got into his Cadillac.
Bae waved back then went down the street with the rose in his hand. His papa gave good advice and for once he was going to take it.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Emma waited until almost quarter to two before she decided to head down to the beach. Her decision had been reached after an hour of pacing, biting her lip, and calling herself an idiot. But she had decided to stop dithering like some wishy-washy romance heroine and just go for it. What was the worst that could happen? He stood her up? Been there and done that.
So she pulled on her red leather jacket, locked up the station, and headed down to the beach.
As she approached the stretch of sand, she saw a tall figure, and her breath caught.
He was here.
But then she saw the tall figure was accompanied by a red-haired woman. It was Ariel and Eric, walking along the shore.
Emma shook her head. What an idiot she'd been! Expecting he'd be here, waiting, like some lovesick hero in a tale. She should have known better. Happy endings were for her parents, not her.
Suddenly a cold nose thrust into her hand.
Emma looked down. "Maura! Hey, girl!" She automatically went to pet the collie.
From behind her, a voice said, "Emma. Long time no see."
She turned and there he was, in a pair of nice jeans, boots, and a red knit sweater, with his black jacket and scarf. Holding . . . a rose in his hand.
"Neal!"
"Happy Valentine's Day," he said, and gave her a smile that made her heart start pounding in her chest like a runaway train.
She froze. She wanted to go towards him, but her feet seemed rooted to the ground. "Uh . . ." she felt the power of speech desert her, and all she could do was stare at him.
Until Maura took hold of her sleeve and tugged her forward.
Emma glanced down at the sable collie with her sleeve hanging out of her mouth. "What is this, Cassidy? Dates With Dogs 101?"
"Chicks dig collies," he joked, still holding out the rose.
Emma walked over to him, not having much of a choice. It was either walk or be dragged and she had her fill of embarrassing herself in front of him. "You teach her that?"
"Nope. I don't know where she learns half the stuff she does."
"Really? But you sent her to me with your card," Emma pointed out.
"I what?" Neal repeated, flabbergasted.
"You know, your Valentine's Day card," Emma elaborated. "She delivered it to me this morning."
"But I . . . lost the card this morning," he began. "So how . . .?"
"Wait a minute. You didn't send me the card."
"I was going to, but then I lost it," he objected. "I had it on the table and then I was making waffles for Henry and—"
"—that's why you couldn't find it," Emma said. "Because Henry sent it to me with Maura."
Neal shook his head ruefully. "That kid! What a conniving little imp!"
"He gets it from your side of the family, Neal," she pointed out.
"Mine? Hey, your parents aren't exactly pure as the driven snow—uh . . ." he objected. "Did I really just say that?"
"The words came out of your mouth."
"God, I'm batting a thousand here," he muttered. Then he tried again. "I really was going to send you the card, Emma . . . Henry just beat me to it . . . and when I couldn't find it I decided to . . . get you this instead . . ." He held out the rose again.
Her hand closed over it. She buried her nose in the delicate petals and inhaled. Then she looked up at him, her blue eyes hopeful. She knew what this meant. "Neal, I . . .."
He took two steps forward and then his hands were drawing her to him. "Shhh! Don't talk. Don't think. Just . . . feel."
He kissed her, one gentle fiery kiss that told her beyond words what he felt for her.
He loves me.
Then she did something she hadn't done in twelve years. She stopped thinking and followed her heart.
She kissed him back, her arms going around him, the rose falling unnoticed into the sand at their feet.
And I love him.
When at last she drew back from him, she was flushed but happy. "Happy Valentine's Day, Neal." She took his hand in his. "You know, I wasn't going to come down here."
"Why did you?"
"Because . . . if I didn't . . . I never would have known . . . whether or not I still loved you."
"Find out yet?"
She pulled him to her and kissed him again.
"There's your answer."
He grinned at her. "Okay, Swan. Now let's go back to my place and eat some tacos."
"Did you just say you were . . . making tacos?" she gasped.
"Yeah. Why?"
She burst out laughing.
"What? Emma, what'd I say?"
"I'll tell you later!" she wiped tears from her eyes. "C'mon, Neal. I'm hungry and I want to make some tacos." She half-dragged him back up the beach, still giggling.
Neal followed, thinking this was the strangest Valentine's Day ever, but he wasn't complaining. His hand clasped securely in Emma's own, he smiled and hummed a few bars of Journey to himself, as Maura trotted beside him, the forgotten rose in her mouth.
