cheddarbiscuits presents:

Stretchmarks

Disclaimer: Do not own, other wise, it would be in novel form.

Mary Margret Blanchard had some unexplainable stretch marks.

Okay, no, they were explainable. They were the kind from pregnancies and births, things Mary Margaret had never been through. Perhaps they were just stretch marks. They could be from growing up as a child, they could be from a freakish spell of weight gain, though she had always been lightweight and had never been more than one pound above average, and she prided herself in never being underweight. She did not truly remember where her stretch marks came from, though she would never admit it. But, that was normal, right? Not remembering where every single mark came from? Of course, there were a great deal of them, so perhaps she should remember where she got so many. Why would she? If everyone remembered every little bodily detail, where would people put important memoires, like… like…

Well, just because she had no important memories did not mean she had to remember where her stretch marks came from!

Sometimes, she would stand in front of the bathroom mirror and inspect them. Running her finger along one and just wondering. She had no real reason to, though, they were just stretch marks, and they could honestly be from growing as a child. She did not remember. They were nothing to be ashamed of, almost everyone had stretch marks. Why, even Emma had them! Of course, Mary Margret had never truly seen them, but if Emma was Henry's mother, she probably had the stretch marks to prove it.

She was not ashamed of the marks on her belly. She was sure there was a perfectly logical explanation for them, there had to be! She was simply curious, because she could not for the life of her figure out what that reason was. They looked like stretch marks from a baby, but she had never ever had a baby. She had never had any physical relationships. How was a baby possible? Still, she could tell Emma that she had once been with child, and her housemate would probably believe her, they did look like pregnancy-related stretch marks.

Housemate. Miss Blanchard smiled. She felt more comfortable calling Emma that, especially now that Emma had her own job, even if Miss Swan insisted that they were not roommates or housemates or anything. Emma was a very close friend, and even though they had only known each other for a short time, she felt as if she had known Emma for years, but perhaps it was because they were simply so similar.

She dreaded the day Emma tried to move. She would so miss those cozy chats with cinnamon and hot coco. Even if Emma was not very chatty. She and let her loose shirt fall over her stomach. She was wearing a set of pear-printed pajamas, a little worn at the seams but still comfortable. With the thoughts of chats and coco, she remember that she had a chatting partner and by now cold chocolate in the living room. She had been distracted by the unexplained stretch marks.

She left the bathroom and returned to the couch, sitting opposite her housemate, and picking up her coco. It was still a little warm. She took a sip and started up a polite conversation, "How was work?"

"It's all right." Emma said stiffly, "I'll start paying my half of the utility bill this time."

"Don't be silly, Emma. You don't have to."

"I'm living here." She said, and Mary Margaret could not help but see her as a delinquent child, "I should pay for the water I use."

"Alright." She decided that there would be no winning against Emma, so she dropped the subject, taking a sip of her coco. A teacher's salary did not pay much, anyway. She would have a little extra spending money if Emma paid half of the bills. Of course, there was not much for her to spend money on, and no big reason to put it away. Maybe they could take a nice trip down to the beach, go to a bigger city and buy something nice there.

Of couse, she could not really remember any sucessful venture out of the city.

"You look like you've got something on your mind." Emma said after a while.

The two sat isolated on two sides of the couch, Emma in her shirt stained with coffee, coco and paint, and her boxer shorts, and Mary Margaret in her pear-print jammies, they looked so different, but still, Miss Blanchard thought, anyone could mistake them for sisters.

"What?"

Emma gave her a little frown. It was probably a softer version of her intimidating glare. Mary Margaret grinned in return, and said, because they had nothing else to discuss and they sat there to chat, "Oh, just thinking. I have stretch marks, you know." She said, and she lifted up her shirt part of the way so Emma could see.

"…Oh." Emma looked, she saw, she frowned and looked back, as if Miss Blanchard had just thrown off all of her clothes and was now running around the room stark naked. The brunette blushed and the blondie shifted uncomfortably, looking suspitiously at her cinnamon-and-chocolate and shifting around again. It was now Mary Margaret's turn to shift uncomfortably. She let her shirt fall and straitened it out. Emma still looked uncomfortable.

"I can't remember how I got them." Mary Margaret replied. "What do you think?"

All she got in response was a pair of shifty eyes.

This was short, but it was an idea I had. I thought, "Hey, Prince Charming still had the scar, and he was in a coma because he was fatally wounded in his past life. Would Miss Blanchard/Snmow White (and I suppose, Cinderella) have stretchmarks?"

Also, I'm pretty sure cinderella had her child before Snow White. What happened to her first born? I might just need to watch that episode again. Ah, well.

If you would like to see any other oneshots, lemme know.