Disclaimer: I own nada.
A/N: This is my present for shipping-always-comes-withaprice for the Gremma Appreciation Secret Santa swap. I hope you enjoy the fluffiness! Happy holidays to you and everyone else reading this piece.
Every day I'll take you higher, and I'll never let you fall. – Let Me Be Your Wings, Thumbelina
"Remind me to kill you later."
He pouts. "Now, Emma, that's not nice. Your son, who loves you and cares about you, wanted you to do this."
"Great. Remind me to kill him, too."
She expects him to raise his eyebrows, to object – she has, after all, just admitted that she wants to murder her own son – but instead Graham laughs.
"You're really that scared?"
"I'm not scared!" she protests immediately. But his smirk is too knowing, and she feels the need to clarify. "It's just that – I don't – I've never seen the point of strapping a strip of metal to the bottom of a boot just to glide around some frozen water."
"It's called ice-skating."
"Right, frozen water gliding," Emma mutters under her breath, glancing down at her skates. "That's what I said."
"Come on," he says softly. Emma looks up to see him holding out his hand. "I promise not to let you fall."
"I will be holding you to that," Emma says as she lets him pull her up off the bench. She tries to take a step, and almost instantly finds herself pitching forward. Graham catches her from behind before she face-plants on the ice.
"Why don't we start with something basic?" he suggests, and although his tone is kind, his eyes are twinkling and it's clear he's very amused by this whole situation. She mentally makes a note to kick him later, preferably before the skates come off for maximum impact. He's still holding her left hand in his right, and he laces their gloved fingers together as he grabs her other hand, too. "Let's do a backward glide."
"Backward glide?" Emma splutters. "You expect me to skate backwards?"
Graham chuckles. "It's quite common, actually. And you might find it's easier than going forward."
She raises her eyebrows. "I think I'd rather skate forwards, if it's all the same to you."
He shrugs and spins them around so that his back is to the rink. His movement is so quick that she doesn't even have time to be scared about the fact that the only thing beneath her feet is that thin strip of metal. She wants to glare at him, but her expression is tempered by the fact he kept his promise not to let her fall. Maybe she really could do this ice-skating thing.
"Not so bad, right?"
"We'll see."
He smiles. "You're going to be fine. Now, bend your knees slight – not that low – okay, good." She grips his hands tighter as Graham bends his knees, too. "I'm going to push off now. Ready?"
"I'm not – I don't – what do you mean, 'push off'? What am I supposed to do?"
"You don't have to do anything," Graham reassures her. "I will do all the work. Just let me lead. Don't try to take control."
"This is me you're talking to."
"I know," he says simply. "But try anyway."
Emma exhales. "So I'm just…gliding?"
"That's right. You're just going to slide along the ice. I'll steer."
Backwards? Emma wants to object. How can you steer backwards? But instead she just nods. "Okay."
Graham's smile widens. "Okay." He bends his knees deeper, and Emma feels herself move backward slightly. She tries to ignore the knot in her stomach as Graham begins to glide backwards, pulling her with him. She can feel her knees trembling.
"Just relax, Emma."
"Kind of hard to relax when you're two seconds away from cracking your head open," Emma mutters through gritted teeth.
"Don't look at the ground," he instructs. "Look at me instead."
Emma glances up, somewhat reluctantly, since she knows her fear is written all over her face. But Graham's eyes are so soft and so kind, she actually feels a little better, in spite of herself.
"It's…not terrible," she concedes.
Graham laughs. "So a ringing endorsement, then."
"It's a little soon for a ringing endorse – oh!" Emma gasps as she falls forward. True to his word, Graham catches her immediately. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"That –" Emma looks down at her skates. "That thing – it felt like something was trying to trip me."
"Oh," Graham says. "That's the toe pick, probably. Try not to catch that."
"No, really?" Emma asks sarcastically. "Why would they attach something else to the boot that could make you fall? Isn't the ice enough?"
"It's useful for figure skaters – like, for jumps and – never mind," Graham breaks off as he catches Emma's impatient eye roll. "It's there to kill you."
"Thought so."
"That's why backward skating might be easier," Graham explains. "Less chance of the toe pick getting in your way."
"I suppose we can try that," Emma allows. "But you're still going to steer, right?"
"Of course." Emma lets Graham to spin them around again so that her back is to the rink now. "Just try to keep your spine straight," Graham instructs. "If you lean forward—"
"There's more chance of me catching the death pick?"
Graham snorts. "Right."
Emma bends her knees and waits for Graham to do the same. After a moment, he takes off again, and they're gliding smoothly along the ice. She's not going to admit it, but it is much easier going backward. She realizes after a moment that she's forgotten to be scared, even though she can't see where they're going.
She realizes she trusts him completely.
"What?"
"Huh?"
"Why are you smiling?" Graham asks.
Emma feels a blush creeping up her neck. She isn't aware of a smile until he mentions one. Her blush deepens when she realizes he's still waiting for an answer.
Because I love you.
She clears her throat, but before she can speak, he glides to a stop, placing his hands on her hips to stop her as well. She looks at him questioningly, but he simply smiles, and pulls her close.
"I love you, too."
