A/N: Just a little fun of the herbal variety for girls' night...
Emma stood stooped over, peering into the over door, one hand pushing the hand towel dangling from the handle out of the way. She wiggles her eyebrows to herself as she licks her lips and pushes away to face a still slightly timid Mary Margaret swirling her drink nervously across the island. Her smile falters into a concerned wide eyed expression. "Mary, look, it's fine. I nabbed it off a group of punks who used to hang out around the docks. They were too scared and stupid to realize what they got away with when I just asked them to fork it over. Who are they gonna call, the cops? Just relax." She scoops her own glass off the island and takes a large gulp. "If you aren't now, you will be in..." She throws a glance over her shoulder to the oven time. "Five minutes." A wicked playful grin crosses her face; sometimes being sheriff has its perks.
Mary Margaret stares at Emma's back as the blonde checks on the brownies in the oven. She takes another drink of her wine before nodding slowly at Emma's explanation. "You're really sure it's okay? I mean, it's not like this is something I've ever done before." She chews at her lower lip and takes another gulp of her wine before refilling her glass, taking advantage of the liquid courage. "No, I'm sure you're right and it'll be fine." And then she smiles wickedly. "I'm glad you used a boxed mix for these. I might be horribly offended if you used my super secret family recipe for your pot brownies." She giggles at the thought of what others might say if she ever brought these brownies to some of the PTA meetings.
Emma smirks. "Well now that I know you possess said secret, you can make them next time." She grins and grabs for a large kitchen knife in the drawer. She moves back in front of the oven and pulls it open slowly. She grabs the hand towel from the front and slides the rack out. Since coming to this town, things had become very heavy in Emma's life: her son, her job, her general need to finally grow up at 28. This stress is what makes the blonde dig the knife into the treats to test if they are done even before the timer can buzz. As the knife slides back out clean, she can smell the sure scent of her extra ingredient permeate the kitchen. She smiles broadly and kicks the oven closed before placing the hot pan on the stove top to cool. She turns to give a proud smile to her roommate. "This is about to be the best girls' night ever." She moves to grab her drink, finishing of the remainder of her first glass of whiskey quickly, and sets her glass down hard as if it was a beast defeated.
Sniffing delicately, Mary Margaret can detect a definitely different scent to the brownies. It's not unpleasant in the slightest, and makes her think of the incense her roommate in college used to burn a lot. "So," she asks as Emma finishes off her whiskey, "how long do we have to wait to try them? And do they need ice cream or whipped cream or something else?" She feels nervous now, but she can't quite tell if it's good or bad. Rather than try to decide and potentially ruin girls' night, she downs her newly refilled glass of wine and pours another.
Emma bites back a smile at the teacher's questions of innocence. "Well you can slather anything you want on them, princess." She smirks and turns to grab the knife. She begins to cut the rich brown pan full of brownies into twelve even squares. She sets the knife down and reaches for a plate above her head. She places them in a neat pyramid and then whirls to face the brunette across the counter; she lays them down softly, as if not to startle Mary Margaret, and snags a small corner in her fingers. She pops it into her mouth, answering her friend's first question before crossing he arms and raising a daring eyebrow at her friend.
Mary Margaret studies the plate of brownies for a moment, chewing at her lower lip as she debates Emma's reply. "Okay, so I suppose I should try it naturally first, then start adding things to it." She reaches forward and takes the top brownie off the stack. Taking a deep breath, she takes a large bite and chews it, choosing to go for the gusto rather than be her usual timid, careful self. She chews slowly, curious about the taste, and swallows. "Okay, that's... That's an interesting taste, Emma," she says as she takes another bite. "So how did you come across this particular variation of brownies, Emma?"
Emma's mouth forms a parted smile as she nods Mary Margaret on. She smiles full-fledged as Mary takes her first few solid bites. She laughs softly as she reaches for her own treat and takes a large bites, which she talks around with an indulgent moan. "Well, when you're stealing cars and ducking from the cops for robbery, sneaking a bit of calm becomes somewhat necessary." Emma's heart feels heavy as she returns to the memories of her unsteady young adulthood. She inhales deeply and takes another large bite of the brownie. Emma closes her eyes and reopens them to smile adoringly at her roommate. "You okay?"
Mary Margaret continues to nibble at her brownie as Emma speaks. She feels her heart ache at the uncertainty and danger that Emma had to grow up with and wishes yet again that she could erase all of that pain and loneliness from her roommate's past. When Emma smiles and asks how she is, she is just popping the last bite of her brownie in her mouth. She chews for a moment and swallows with a sheepish grin. "I'm fine," she replies slowly as she reaches for another brownie. "Why do you ask?" She pauses before she picks up the brownie and pushes off her stool to head toward the refrigerator. "Ice cream," she says with a grin. "Definitely ice cream." She pulls out the tub and a spoon, then glances at Emma. "You want some?"
Emma shakes her head and laughs at her roommate as she takes another large bite, finishing off her first brownie. "Just want to make sure you are feeling alright and no, but maybe some milk." The dry sweetness coating her throat beckons a small cough. Emma's muscles begin to seize and relax in a very muted but familiar way. She smiles to herself after a deep inhale through her nose. Her eyes fall shut as she pops he neck left, and then right. "Don't go crazy with that, wouldn't want you ruining your figure for David." She quirks an eyebrow and laughs as she moves back to the counter to grab another brownie from the pile.
At the mention of David's name, Mary Margaret pauses with the half gallon container in her hand. She starts to giggle and shakes her head. "I'll just do a small bowl, well, maybe a big mug of it. That's okay, right?" Without waiting for Emma's reply, she scoops ice cream into a mug and puts the ice cream back in the freezer before returning to her stool. Taking a sip of wine, she grabs for another brownie and smiles. "So, do these taste as good when they're a day old? Or have they never lasted that long with you?"
Emma takes on a playfully offended face and opens her mouth to retort. The words don't come to her, but a fit of small giggles forces her to catch herself on the island. She lays her head down on her shoulder and takes another bite with her eyes closed. She hums along with her body and then glares at her roommate. "Thank you for the milk by the way." She turns and pulls the fridge open. She fumbles, brownie in hand, to open the gallon of milk and take a few long chugs, lavishing in the heightened feeling of it coaxing moisture in her throat. She turns and sets the open jug on the counter, knowing it would be returned to again. The blonde takes another bite as she faces Mary again. "To be honest, by tomorrow the special effects will have disappeared. It's magic Mary...magic." She chokes on the last word as she begins laughing boisterously at her own words.
Mary Margaret has the decency to blush at Emma's admonishment, but just shrugs her shoulders. "Ice cream takes precedence over everything, Emma, don't you know that?" She starts to scoop ice cream onto her brownie but stops to stare as Emma drinks straight from the container. "You were raised in a barn, weren't you? And you're replacing my milk." When the blonde starts to giggle, she can't help but do the same. She chews on her mouthful in an attempt to quell the giggles, but it only lasts until she swallows. "You may not know this," she says with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, "but I've never done this before. You're a bad influence on me, Emma Swan. Don't stop."
Emma smiles at seeing the mousy high strung teacher be able to relax a bit, and at her own help in that. "Never. I never knew I could feel as good as I do with having people." She laughs. "You and Henry." She smiles and takes another bite. She grabs the milk and teasingly eyes Mary over the jug as she swigs again. "Mmm, backwash." She almost sloshes the milk on the floor when she drops the jug down to her side and she breaks down in laughter and holds her free hand over her mouth to keep herself from spewing it everywhere, which only makes her laugh harder as she sets the gallon down to safety.
There's a part of Mary Margaret that knows she should be worried about her kitchen getting trashed in the course of girls' night, but she finds that she just doesn't care at the moment. She shudders at the backwash comment and continues to eat her ice cream-covered brownie. "You spill it, you clean it," she finally says, then smiles. "You seem happier now, and I don't mean because of the brownies. You're not nearly as uptight as you were when you first came here." She narrows her eyes and studies Emma. "Are you getting laid? Did you finally do something about your crush on Regina?"
Emma nearly chokes on her mouthful of brownie at Mary's inquiry and, after a few coughs, she eyes her roommate with her tongue gliding over the back of her teeth. "No, thank you for the charming reminder. I do not have a crush on Regina Mills. I simply appreciate her raising Hen-" Emma can feel the heat radiating off her face and purses her lips. "I hate you." She takes another rough drink of milk and sets it back down, clearing her throat. "She is hot as fuck, okay? But can you even imagine her uppity ass dealing with this?" She gesture towards herself maniacally and laughs with a shaking head. "Although maybe a good lay WOULD chill her the fuck out." Emma tosses her hand over her mouth, noting her own amplified volume.
Delighted laughter at Emma's blush stops Mary Margaret from finishing her brownie. She sets her spoon and brownie in the bowl to grip the counter as she giggles hysterically for a moment or two. She wipes at the tears slipping down her cheeks and clears her throat. "Oh, Emma, you've got it bad. And for the record, you are not as bad as you say. You're a wonderful person and she would be lucky to have someone like you in her life. You should just tell her. What's the worst that she could do?"
Before either of them can say anything else, there's a knock at the door. Quirking a curious eyebrow at Emma, Mary Margaret giggles again and says, "Henry's not coming over tonight, is he? Or did you invite Ruby and she's just being fashionably late?" She gets up and heads over to the door. All the color drains from her face momentarily as she finds herself face to face with the very topic of their conversation.