*A series of drabbles, inspired by this post on tumblr: .com(/)post(/)37871854438. Set in a universe where Graham didn't die. Warning: there's quite a lot of swearing in this chapter. Drunk Graham's got a potty mouth, apparently.

Disclaimer: If I owned OUaT, do you think Graham would be dead?

(Graham)

The first time he says it is a complete accident. He's drunk and full of self-loathing, fresh from a night with Regina. Another fucking night where he doesn't feel a fucking thing. He calls her as he's walking home from Granny's, Ruby having confiscated his car keys after his fifth shot.

"Emma, it's, um, me," he mumbles when he gets her voicemail. "I know you're avoiding me," he accuses, adding, "Don't fucking blame you. I'd avoid me too if I could."

He reaches his apartment building, slumps down on the porch. "Jesus fuck, Emma, I don't want it to be Regina that I keep falling into bed with. I want it to be you." He pauses, realizing even in his inebriated state how that must have sounded. "Shit," he mutters. "I didn't mean it like that. That's not all I'm looking for. I, fuck…"

This time there's no hesitation. "I'm in love with you, Emma. I'm really fucking in love with you. I, just, I love you."

He hangs up, but not before muttering "I love you" at least three more times. He falls into bed fully clothed, and when he dreams, he dreams of Emma.

He goes into work the next morning with his heart in both his stomach and his throat. He's humiliated. Can't even fathom trying to look Emma in the eye after that phone call.

By some stroke of fate that he can't believe exists, she doesn't seem upset with him when she walks in. There's no malice in her tone when she greets him, no strain in her smile. He breathes a sigh of relief. She must not know about the message. Must not have listened to it yet.

Emma must notice the change in his expression, because she shoots him a look. Tilts her head, quirks her eyebrow, looks so fucking adorable that it's all he can do not to kiss the smirk off her lips.

"What?" he asks, feigning innocence.

She opens her mouth to reply, but pauses before closing it and shaking her head. "Nothing," she says quickly. "Just…nothing."

He runs into Mary Margaret outside of Granny's at lunch, and it's nothing short of the awkward encounter he'd expected from Emma that morning. "You, um, you wouldn't have happened to have checked Emma's voicemail by accident, would you?" he asks.

Mary Margaret winces. "Maybe," she squeaks, continuing in a rush, "I didn't mean to, I swear, but it was so early and our phones look exactly alike and by the time I realized it was too late."

"It's okay," he interjects when she pauses to take a breath. "Mary Margaret, it's okay. You, um, didn't say anything to Emma about it, did you?" he asks.

Her eyes go wide. "No, no, of course not," she reassures him, shaking her head. "Oh, God no. I even deleted the message so she wouldn't accidentally find it." She smiles sympathetically. "I understand that you're not ready for her to know how you feel just yet. And the day that Emma tells someone "I love you" will be the day Hell freezes over." She freezes, her jaw dropping. "Oh God," she says, "I didn't mean to imply that she's incapable of love or anything, I just…"

He cuts her off. "It's okay, I get what you meant."

She relaxes immediately. "For the record, I think it's sweet," she says after a moment. "I mean, maybe not the whole telling her via drunk dial, but…sweet. And speaking as her roommate/best friend, you definitely have my stamp of approval."

He grins. "Thanks. And thanks for keeping this a secret…for now."

She grins back. "Not a problem, Graham. And don't worry about Emma," she tells him. "I'll put in a good word for you." She winks before heading into Granny's, a smirk playing on her lips.

He sighs and starts for the station, grateful that he has Mary Margaret on his side. He has a feeling he's going to need it.

*These will mostly be from Graham's pov, but there are a couple that I want to write from Emma's. Hope you enjoyed.