Summary: Rejoyce! A baby is born. To celebrate the happy occasion the Charmings organize a ball the likes of which Storybrook has never seen but with all the nostalgia of the Enchanted Forest. But David noticed that not everyone was enjoying those glory days of old. Daddy!Charming.
Mary-Margaret was sitting at the table, blissfully basking in the happiness engulfing her and resting her aching feet. Dancing in high heels just wasn't the best idea when still recovering from giving birth to little Eva. Her dream becoming reality, a chance to be a mother and this time there was no Evil Queen, no Peter Pan and no Wicked Witch stopping her.
"Did you have fun?" she heard David ask her as he entwined their fingers and brought her hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to them.
She smiled a tired smile, oh how she loved this man.
"Very much so. But it seems frozen time or not, 29 years without dancing does take its toll on my feet."
David chuckled, "You did just give birth to our daughter Snow, I thought you would've retired already."
"And miss a ball? David please." She gave him that 'so in love' look she wore so well before kissing him on the lips. "But I think I will retire now. Check on Eva before bed."
"Of course, I won't be long."
"Oh no, stay." She brought her other hand to his cheek, a gesture he instinctively leaned into. "I've seen you looking at her. It's less crowded, go to your daughter."
With another peck on his lips she stood from her chair, heels already in hand and took her leave. Charming couldn't help but watch her go. When she was out of sight he turned his gaze to his daughter.
She was sitting at a table, all dressed and high-heeled for the occasion. But she was silently sipping her wine, looking around the room where their friends were dancing, laughing, celebrating.
His own happiness dimmed at the sight. Besides his own fear he did take her feelings into account. He feared she would reject her sister. He feared she would hate them. But she seemed so happy when they had placed her little sister in her hands, tears of joy in her eyes as Eva yawned and got comfy in her arms.
His heart was heavy, he had failed her.
He made his way towards her, crossing the venue and stopping right in front of her, extending his hand to her.
"May I have this dance?" he asked and she snapped out her dreamworld. Looking from his hand to his face with an arched brow.
"I … I don't really dance." She said cringing a bit, and feeling terribly uncomfortable. David just smiled.
"Don't worry, I'll teach you. Worst case you can always stand on my toes."
"In these heels?" she asked jokingly to which he chuckled.
"Perhaps not. Come on… I'd like to dance with my daughter." He said purposefully this time, moving his hand a bit as to imply that the invitation still stands.
She took his hand and he guided her to the dance floor. He positioned them and told her to follow his lead. They were quiet at first, as she was paying attention to his feet.
"Don't look down." He said to which she broke concentration and of course, landed one of her heels on his feet. He cursed, those things could draw blood.
"Sorry. But in all fairness I warned you." She smiled a bit and marveled in his patience, in his actions. This was her dad.
"Lose the heels and we'll try again."
She smiled , grabbing hold of his shoulders as she stepped out of her heels – for all the good they did for her pose, the height was a bitch to dance. She nudged them to the side of the dancefloor as David brought them back in their former pose.
She followed effortlessly which made him smile.
"See, you're a natural, just like your mother." He said to her when he twirled her back to him. She scoffed.
"In her pregnant state?" she mused, conjuring up the image of the very round Mary-Margaret in one of those enchanted forest gowns she'd shown her earlier – and which Emma had gracefully declined, settling for a modern floor-length dress instead- waddling her way to the music. It was that same imagery that caused her eyes to dim and the amused smile to fade to a wistful line.
"I've always wanted to do this" he started, his heart heavy on his tongue. "Ever since Snow told me she was pregnant with you. Twirl you around the room, teaching you how to dance " Emma scrunched her nose at the idea of her in those dresses.
"It definitely would have come in hand at the proms." She said and it silenced them both. The road to the 'What could have been's painfully calling out to them.
"You'll get another chance." She said softly, trying to sooth the blow her last words caused the both of them.
"It's not the same. I should've…" he started but quieted down. What's the use of could have, would have, should have – when all they had was now?28 years too long, to late, even for those who have true love. The sadness that overwhelmed him was difficult to mask. He hoped, oh how he hoped, that despite her difficult past, someone had been there to dance with her like this.
"Yes." She replied; startling him a bit because he didn't know he'd been wistfully talking out loud.
"Yes." She says again, her voice a bit louder, less emotional, and with a small smile of comfort at the end. Because she refused to tell him the truth. Refused to break his heart even further because she knew, if given the chance, she would have been a daddy's girl.
And Daddy's girls, don't break their daddy's heart.