Hello everybody! Don't know yet if this will be an ongoing project or not, but I really enjoyed writing this! I hope you all like it.

Disclaimer: If I owned these characters, do you really think I would be writing fanfiction? No. No I would not.

Friday.

Mary Margaret gave a sigh, of both relief and longing. It meant that she had two days to do absolutely whatever she wanted to do, whether it be read a book or just simply sleep in. However, it was also two days without seeing her kids. She loved being a teacher and her students felt like her own children, and she felt incredibly blessed to be a part of their lives for five days a week. And she missed them every weekend. But it also just seemed to remind her that there really was nothing for her to look forward to coming home to every weekend.

Of course, she really liked Emma, she was a really kind and brave person, which Mary Margaret admired a great deal, but…she didn't know if she could call them best friends yet. Emma was much too guarded about relationships, and besides, she didn't want her to feel like she needed to be loved by someone, whether it be by a best friend or a soul mate.

Soul mate. David. She couldn't help but make the connection. What she felt when she was around him was everything she had ever imagined love would be. It gave her hope. And that kiss–that heavenly, amazing kiss–a few days ago had taken her mind prisoner; she kept playing it over and over again in her head, and daydreaming about the next time she could kiss him again. She knew it was all so wrong, he was married, but she knew that he wasn't kissing her out of a disrespect for her or his wife. It was because he loved her.

But despite the fairytale-esque nature of it all, she didn't want to dream too big just yet. Not after one kiss.

"So, how was school?" His voice came from behind her. She gasped and turned around. He was there, waiting for her, leaning in the frame of the door with his signature playful one sided smile.

"It was good. The kids have been studying plants this week." She gestured to the diagrams of different flora and fauna on the board.

"I know." He walked towards her.

"Really." She said, smiling. "Are you stalking me?"

"That's a pretty negative word for it." He was three feet away when she noticed that he was trying to hide something behind his back. He must've seen her looking because he gave a dramatic sigh and pulled out from behind him a bundle of pink flowers and handed them to her. She couldn't help but gasp, in surprise at the gift as well as the beauty of the flowers.

And she recognized them immediately.

"Ranunculus!" She exclaimed excitedly. "They're my favorite flowers! How did you–"

"Henry." He answered. "He told me that you had gone over them in class and had said they were your favorite." He was so relieved that she hadn't sent him away immediately that his heart finally started to slow. He gave a chuckle, "But he didn't call them…whatever you just called them. He said, 'buttercups.'"

"Yes," she laughed, gazing at the flowers joyfully, "it's the genus name for them." She closed her eyes and breathed them in, her smile widening as she felt the petals against her face. He couldn't help but watch her, it wasn't just that she was beautiful–in fact, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen–but it was also just her. She seemed to radiate joy and happiness, and he felt complete when he was around her, like he could spend his entire life never knowing anyone else and live a full and happy life.

When she looked up again and saw him staring at her, she had the strong urge to touch him, to feel him again. She gave in and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Thank you, David." She whispered to him, and she wasn't just thanking him for the flowers, she was thanking him for existing, and for loving her back. They both clung to each other for nearly half a minute, enjoying the bliss of it. David was the first to pull away, only to cradle the back of her head with his hand. And they both leaned in. And Mary Margaret knew for certain that she would spend the entire weekend admiring the pink buttercups, and thinking of the now two most wonderful of her life.

Reviews will make pink buttercups grow. And me very happy, but everybody seems to care more about the buttercups.