A/N: So I'm getting the feeling that this story is going to be one with A LOT of shorter chapters, so I'll try to post them quickly and not take too long in between chapters. Anyway, I hope you all had a happy holiday season (and don't mind reading some more holiday themed stuff even now that the holidays are over)! Enjoy!

Mary Margaret heard the door shut as the voices ceased, and she quickly busied herself with setting the tea down on his desk. She hadn't intended to snoop on him earlier, but he was just so cute and when she had seen him with the little boy she couldn't help but wonder… It was fairly common knowledge that the new Prime Minister was unmarried, but was it possible that he had a child that he'd hidden from the world. He'd caught her though, come bursting through the door with the little boy in tow and nearly collided with her as she stood right outside with her tea tray. Her very first day and he'd caught her snooping on him.

"My nephew," came a voice from behind her, and Mary Margaret whirled around to find herself face to face with the Prime Minister.

"Sorry," she said hastily, and he seemed to misunderstand her.

"My nephew. As in my sister's son." He grinned widely and a blush spread across her fair skin.

"No, sir, I meant I'm sorry for listening at the door," she clarified, her cheeks turning even rosier.

"Not to worry, not to worry," he reassured her, his smile doing much more than his words. "What was your name again?"

"Mary Margaret, sir," she answered with a small curtsey that made her feel immensely stupid.

"Please, David will do," he said, and she smiled shyly. "All the formalities get old very quickly. Besides, I'm sure you'll eventually catch me walking about in my underwear," he winked at her, and Mary Margaret blushed furiously, "and it'll be much less awkward then I suspect if we dispense with the formalities."

"Well, that," she stammered in reply, trying very hard not to picture the Prime Minister in his underwear, "that seems unlikely, since I won't be here too long."

"You won't?" he asked, and she told herself she had to be imagining the disappointment she heart in his voice.

"I hope not," Mary Margaret laughed lightly. "It's really only a temporary thing, I'm actually a teacher, but my school's been closed for a bit owing to a rather damaging explosion, and all the students have been temporarily reassigned."

"You teach at St. Mark's?" He sounded surprised at the news, and Mary Margaret nodded in affirmation. "That's where my nephew goes – well, he's been moved to St. Ignatius temporarily."

"How old is he?" she asked, wondering if she had heard of the boy. He hadn't looked familiar from the quick look she'd gotten as he walked past, but she might know him by name.

"He's only just turned five, so he's year one, Roland Loxley."

"Oh! I've heard of him!" Mary Margaret grinned from ear to ear. She had yet to meet the little boy in person, but there were many stories told about him – a little rambunctious and slightly energetic, but a very sweet child by all accounts, and the teachers were very fond of him. "He's a good kid, Gemma really loves him, says he's absolutely adorable."

"That's good to hear, I'm sure Regina will be pleased," David said with a grin. "Although I'm a little surprised, they've been having some problems with his attention. It's pretty much impossible to get him to focus on anything. Takes after me in that respect."

"You seemed pretty focused on becoming Prime Minister," she observed, and he chuckled lightly.

"True enough," he replied, smiling broadly, and Mary Margaret couldn't help but answer him with a smile of her own.

God help me, she thought to herself, first day on the job and I'm in love with him already. She wasn't really one to fall for someone easily – in fact she was much tougher and more independent than her innocent schoolteacher exterior suggested. In the few hours since she'd arrived this morning, she'd spend a total of about ten minutes with this man, and yet she felt something with him that was unlike anything she'd experienced before. Just thinking it made her feel like such a hopeless romantic, a fool in love, but it was true nonetheless.

At least it'll give me something to talk about at dinner tonight. She and her cousin had next to nothing in common, and they'd met only a handful of times as children, since Emma's parents had moved to the States with her as a child. They didn't even look alike – polar opposites, in fact – aside from having the same chin. But since Emma had moved back to London, Mary Margaret's mother had been pressuring her to meet with her cousin, so that at least the poor girl knew she had someone. And what better time than the holidays?