AN: I promise (for all of you out there who read the author updates and not just the story ones) I am getting back on track with Struggle and ABNW. I'm in the middle of finals week and am a day away from getting my research paper out so I'm kind of using this little piece as a distraction. School does end though! So if you're reading this in hopes that I'll maybe be getting my butt in gear, fret not, I am!

And if you're here just for good ol' fluff, then welcome! I'm new to the ship but not to the writing and I'm totally planning on running wild with it. If you're any sort of OUAT fan and feel like sending a prompt my way (I'm also on tumblr at onefoot-forward) I'm more than up for the distraction (no seriously, I am so close to being done with hours spent reading journal articles, I appreciate and need the quick easy-outs)!

"It's okay you know."

Emma started at the voice, so close to her ear that she had to bite down on the urge to turn heel and swat. David was not a fly, or some creepy poisonous plant that seemed to follow steadily after them, and while he might take the move in good humour (you're our daughter Emma, of course you'd be a fighter) she didn't plan to chance it.

So she tucked her scream in her cheek and tilted her head in his direction – they were currently mid-day through what had to be the third longest trek ever (the first two having have been the days prior) and she wasn't about to slow down.

"I'm sorry, what?" She asked, eyebrows raised as David moved next to her side.

His face was solemn, but his eyes were light. "It's okay. To be selfish I mean."

She didn't need to follow his gaze ahead, well aware of exactly who he was referring to. Emma scowled slightly but kept her face on his. "I am absolutely certain I have no idea what you're talking about."

Her father's expression broke into a smooth grin. "I am absolutely certain you do."

"David."

"Emma." He repeated with the exact same inflection.

"This is so unnecessary, I know that everyone knows now but – "

"No, no, let me say my piece. You and Mary-Margaret get to have these whispered conversations all the time and I just wanted to throw my two cents in."

Emma quirked her eyebrow (which was entirely her own body gesture, thank you very much). "Getting jealous of my quality time with your wife?"

He nudged her with his shoulder, chuckling. "No, I'm jealous of my wife's quality time with our daughter."

Ah.

She appreciated the fact that, despite David never having have been as close to her pre-curse as Mary-Margaret had, he never attempted to push the parent thing on her. He could, she knew, because there wasn't another loved one to reconcile with his image, she had only ever really known him as the one that her friend was in love with and then he had been her dad. But he didn't ask her to call him by that namesake, didn't pout or whine (not that Mary-Margaret did these either, but it was kind of implied that she would, if it'd work). But Emma knew that he wanted. They both did. Wanted their little girl back, wanted to be seen as parents rather than friends, and sometimes the expectations were awful and frightening and she was still so angry, but other times it was nice to be cherished.

So she only blushed a little and conceded to his statement. "It's unfair you know, to pull the long lost dad card in this situation."

"I kind of have to, it's my only card." He said, still good-naturedly.

That should have been her first clue.

She smiled and went along, forgetting how the conversation had started. "I know it's hard here, but I promise we'll get back and work on the whole uhm…family thing."

David looked down at her, his I am a serious parent and this is my serious face expression back on. "Well that's actually my point. I know you love Henry, Emma, I truly do. And I get that by sidelining everything else that is happening you're trying to focus on him and that's great but love doesn't work like that."

"Pardon?"

He took her slight hostility in easy strides. "You're allowed to be selfish when it comes to love. You're allowed to love more than just Henry."

Before she had a chance to interject (something along the lines of Henry is all that matters, at least for now, which was true because he was) David plowed on. "Look, your mother and I were incredibly selfish – we practically started a war because we refused to be kept apart. And you know, I don't regret a single thing about it, because it gave me Snow and it gave me you."

She almost stopped in her tracks, not sure if it was the nerve or the oh my god he is not saying what I think he's saying but it was something and she had to focus on placing one steady foot in front of the other if only to save face.

After a long moment's pause, she settled on "I know you mean well, but Henry is all I can focus on right now."

"Really? That's all you're focusing on?"

Something about the way he said it, full of insinuation and eyes leading forward, had the blush lingering on her cheeks come racing back. She pointedly did not stare ahead.

"Love demands that you be selfish." David continued, still unconcerned with the eerily growing silence that Emma was using to attempt to stifle this entire conversation. "And it isn't always patient."

"Look," she finally said "it's not…I'm not you. I'm not like all these fairy tales, I can't just…"

"Emma." He said, stopping in his tracks and forcing her to choose to continue on or to commit to this thing (and that was definitely not a metaphor).

(she stopped)

"You are like us. Not fairy tale characters or royalty - you're human. And in all of my travels I've found that we have an enormous capacity for love."

"You don't even like him." She protested weakly.

David laughed now, breaking out of the True Love façade, and clapped a hand down on her shoulders. "First, the man did save my life. Second," and at this he leaned down and his grin held a little piece of victory "I never did say who I was talking about."

With a small inhale Emma remembered her two self-proclaimed suitors who lingered ahead, only one of whom David had any reason (yet) to dislike.

She didn't have a chance to pick through the assortment emotions that swirled up as she stared at her father in uncomfortable shock, as a rustling and then a body broke through the foliage ahead.

"Oi mates, we're leaving you in the dust. Is everything alright?"

David grinned. "Yup, everything's great." He winked at her and then looked up ahead, where she was still not looking. "Emma needs a little bit of help though."

She barely had a moment to process what he'd said before he was walking away and laughing, leaving only her and –

Oh she was going to kill that man.

"Are you injured love?" Another voice, deep and sultry and worried, was by her ear, and Emma seriously considered swatting at this one.

She settled for a scowl and pointed a furious finger at him, jabbing him in his chest (didn't the man know that buttons weren't meant to be buttoned up?). "You," she hissed "are never allowed to save my father again, you hear me?"