A little one-shot I wrote. Takes place around season 1 before the curse. Just some Mary Margaret and Emma moments. I always liked how MM took care of Emma! Anyways, Enjoy and Please Review!

If you call casing bad guys through the rain, falling in mud, getting hit (multiple times) with a 2x4, and finally, spilling your hot chocolate all over your shirt, then Emma Swan would definitely not have taken the job a Sheriff.

Today, she just felt like the small town of Storybrooke was out to get her. Maybe it was because she didn't believe in the curse, but people were constantly calling for help, and some idiot thought it would be fun to run into the woods. Of course, he roughed her up a bit before running away, but Emma still managed to catch him.

It was midnight now and Emma was stumbling upstairs to the apartment. She was cold, wet, dirty, and sore. Being unsuccessful in protecting her face, the man hit her with the 2x4 and her right cheek is swollen with a 4 inch bruise across it. Also, she's biting down on a torn off part of her scarf to sop up the blood in her mouth.

Emma reached the door and opened it quietly, trying not to wake Mary Margaret. She should have known not to bother because it seems her roommate was already up.

"Well it's about time you've got home." Mary sighs. When the blonde turns around she couldn't help but give a small cry. "Oh Emma!"

"Mm...ine!" She tries to say. "...eally."

"Sure you are, and I'm Snow White." She gabs Emma's hand and drags her to the bathroom.

"Mary Margaret..." Emma wines.

When they reach the bathroom, Mary Margaret turns to her friend. "Alright," She removes the bloody scarf in Emma's mouth. "Clothes off!"

"What!" Emma laughs.

"You're soaking wet and muddy. So, clothes off." Mary demands. "We're all girls here so no need to be shy." She hears Emma growl, but is satisfied when her shirt and jeans are removed. With Emma in her bra and underwear, Mary moves her so she's sitting on the toilet.

Having no fight left in her, Emma lets her roommate wipe off the mud and tend to her injuries. "So...Why do you insist on taking care of me all the time?"

Mary ignores her and fills a cup with water and give it to Emma. "Here." She watches her drink it. "Now spit."

Emma raises an eyebrow.

"Spit!" She orders while taping the sink.

Emma leans forward and spits out the bloody water. "You didn't answer my question." She glances up at her friend who's to busy wiping the dirt around her cheek. "Is it because of Henry? Is he trying to jog some memories of Snow White?"

Still no answer.

Then it clicks. "Oh don't tell me, you actually believe in the curse." Emma laughs. "And let me guess, this is the maternal instinct kicking in."

"Well," Mary shrugs her shoulders. "I don't fully believe in the curse, but maybe...maybe it's possible. Do you believe?"

"What, that you're my mother. Ya!" Emma says sarcastically. "There's no way in hell that you are my mother!"

For some reason, that comment changed Mary Margaret's mood. "You know what, you're right!" She wads the washcloth and throws it at Emma.

"Hey! What..."

"What was I thinking! Me being your mother!" Mary leaves the bathroom before the blonde could see her tears fall.

Emma sits alone trying to figure out what the hell just happened. She looks at herself in the mirror and realizes she screwed up. This is why I hate roommates. She thought.

She heads to her room to put on some sweats and a tank top then makes her way into her friends room. Before she enters, Emma goes back into the bathroom to grab the washcloth and the bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

"Mary Margaret." Emma pulls back the curtain to find her roommate sitting on the bed, knees pulled to her chest. "Mare..." She whispers and sits on the edge. "Look, what I meant was, IF, the curse was real, then there's no way you could be my mother because I...I wouldn't be good enough to be your daughter. Your kind, caring, full of hope and happiness, and I'm some orphan nobody cares for who's always running. I'm afraid to show emotion to others because they always hurt me. I...I just..."

Before she could finish, Mary Margaret embraces her and holds her close. "You Emma Swan would be a perfect daughter. And you know that I will never, ever, hurt you."

"I know..." Emma cries.

"And I'm sorry for the way I acted." Mary pulls away to face the blonde. "Do you forgive me?"

"Ya!" Emma smiles. "On one condition..." She holds up the bottle and washcloth. "Can you finish helping me?"

"Of course!"