A/N: This takes place after 1.17 "Hat Trick"
Emma contemplated the illustration of the Mad Hatter thoughtfully as she sipped at her Coke. Henry had given her his book that morning; his smile heartbreakingly hopeful at her interest. She hadn't told him about Jefferson or the kidnapping and she didn't plan to. But she had to talk to someone and so had brought the book with her to lunch in the hopes of discussing it with James. She had plopped into her usual booth at Granny's and read while she waited for her grilled cheese and the librarian.
She was half-way through her meal when it occurred to her he might not be coming. They hadn't made arrangements to meet but they never made arrangements. It just happened that they both liked the diner and had lunch breaks at the same time. At least that is what Emma had been telling herself right up until the afternoon almost a week ago when James asked if she would like to go to dinner with him and she realized that she had been lying to herself since that moment under the mistletoe. What she felt for James was more than just casual friendship.
She had said yes because she couldn't refuse him when he looked so hopeful, blushing as he scratched behind his ear. But later as she hung her jacket next to Graham's and rubbed at her swan pendant she had determined that they could never be anything more than friends. No matter how attractive she found him–and she could admit that he was attractive in a lost puppy way–or how well they got along, they could never grow into something more. James was a wonderful person but deep down Emma knew that he could never truly understand her. How could a man that had lived a happy, normal life, and whose idea of breaking the rules was returning a library book late ever comprehend all the broken pieces that made up Emma Swan? She had rehearsed her friend zone speech a few times but never delivered it because between Kathryn Nolan's murder, James' near drowning, and Mary-Margaret's arrest, the date had never happened.
The front door opened and Emma looked up from the book only to be disappointed by the appearance of Carl and Ellie shuffling into the diner.
"That book worm of yours stand you up?" Emma twisted to see Granny standing just behind her with her arms crossed and a to-go sack in hand.
"He isn't my anything and it's not like we had plans to eat together."
The older woman gave a "humph" and held out the white bag. "Right. Well I made his usual if you want to deliver it."
Emma took the offering and muttered a thank you. Then she grabbed Henry's book and went to the counter to pay for both meals. As she exited Granny's and headed for the library she tried not to think of the knowing look in the Widow Lucas' eyes.
The library was locked. Emma frowned at the door. She had thought James was working through his lunch but it seemed he had just gone somewhere else instead of meeting her. There was a sharp sting in her chest that Emma didn't want to examine. He was a free man, they were only friends. She lingered for a moment wondering what to do with his food.
"Emma!" She turned to see James rounding the corner; brought up short by her presence. He looked different. His shirt was a familiar deep navy but he lacked his usual blazer or cardigan, his top buttons were undone and his glasses were missing. Most disconcerting of all was the beginning of a 5 o'clock shadow on his usually clean shaven face. Her heart gave a hiccup.
"James?" It came out as a question because it felt like she was seeing a different person. She knew she was staring and quickly shoved the to-go bag toward him. "You weren't at lunch. I–well Granny really–thought you might be hungry."
His eyes flicked down to the bag. "How thoughtful. Just let me–" He motioned to the door, key in his hand.
Emma shook her head mentally urging herself to get it together. "Yeah. Of course."
She stepped back from the door so he could unlock and open it. He ushered her in and as she squeezed past him she had the strangest feeling that he was taller. He flicked on the lights as she walked to the circulation desk and deposited both the bag and the book. She turned around suddenly feeling awkward and needing to retreat.
"I really appreciate the food. I got a little sidetracked down at the museum and lost track of time." He gave her a sheepish smile and Emma felt the awkwardness melt away. This was her friend no matter how different his clothes.
"The museum?" she asked.
"Aye, the one down by the docks."
"Oh, with the boat?" The image of the old sailing vessel painted in yellow and black moored next to a long brown building flashed in Emma's mind.
"Ship," he corrected.
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Ship. Boat. Does it matter?"
His gaze was momentarily intense before he shrugged. "I just think a vessel as magnificent as that deserves the proper respect." He looked down into the bag a slight flush to his cheek. Emma wanted to dig deeper into his sudden love of things nautical but her eyes caught on the book and she remembered the reason she wanted to see him in the first place.
"Can we talk?" She burst out louder than she intended.
"I find when a woman says that I am rarely in for a pleasant conversation." His lips ticked up slightly and she rolled her eyes at him.
"Seriously it's important. I need your opinion on something."
His smile dropped a look of concern crossing his features and he nodded. "Sure. Do you want to sit?"
He rolled back one of the chairs behind the desk and she circled around and sat. He watched her intently as he sunk into the other chair.
She waved toward his food. "You might as well eat this is going to take awhile."
He reached for the bag and Emma took a deep breath suddenly realizing she didn't know exactly where to start. Jefferson's insane ravings had so closely matched Henry's delusion. He had been so sure about the curse and about magic. Then there was the scar on his neck and his strange disappearance. It had all been so surreal. And Emma knew he was just a sad, lonely man but seeing the picture in Henry's book had made her heart race and her palms sweat. She needed some perspective. She needed someone to reassure her; to tell her that curses and magic were impossible.
She reached for Henry's book.
"Do you know why Henry is in therapy?"
James furrowed his brow. "I assumed it was because of his anger and feelings of abandonment when he discovered he was adopted."
Emma pushed away a pang of guilt as she shook her head. "Not exactly. He has built a delusion around the fairytales in this book." She placed her hands on the soft leather cover. "He thinks that everyone who lives in Storybrooke was cursed here by Regina."
"Cursed." The word is oddly strangled but she doesn't look up to meet his eye. She needed to get through this.
"Yeah, cursed as in with magic. Everyone here comes from some fairytale land and is living a fake life with fake memories. He thinks Regina is the Evil Queen from the Snow White fairytale and I am the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. That Mary-Margaret and David are my parents but they are cursed and I am here to break their curse and bring back all the happy endings."
She paused and waited for James to laugh or tell her how ridiculous it was but he was silent. She looked up from the book to find him staring at his hand as he rubbed the bottom of his fingers with his thumb.
"It's insane right?" She prompted.
His eyes snapped to hers and there was something strange in them she couldn't identify. Then he blinked and ducked his head.
"It's certainly an imaginative and unique delusion."
Emma chewed on her lip. "Yeah, except I met a guy last night that had the same exact delusion."
Before James could ask for details she was spilling out the story. She did her best to emphasis the crazy things Jefferson said and did and left out the moments when he had made sense and his story almost seemed plausible. James listened with rapt attention exclaiming over the kidnapping and congratulating Emma on beating Jefferson but making no statements about how insane it all sounded. When she got to the part about his scar she flipped to the page in the storybook that looked eerily like the man she had met. James let out a low hum and asked.
"If he was cursed like the rest of the town then how did he explain being able to remember his other life?"
"He said it was Regina's punishment. That he was trapped by knowledge and forced to live in a land where he doesn't belong. That holding conflicting realities in his head was driving him mad."
James rubbed his chin. "It would be very difficult to reconcile two identities especially if they were very different. To try and sort out what was true and what was false could be torture. But then wouldn't it be better to know who you are rather than live a lie?"
Emma stared at the librarian in confusion. This was not the reaction she had expected.
"Are you serious? Jefferson isn't really the Mad Hatter. He just thinks he is." She flipped Henry's book to the page of Snow White and Prince Charming's wedding. "Magic isn't aren't my parents. My parent's abandoned me because they were selfish not because they needed me to break a curse. " She knew her voice had taken on an angry edge but she had come to James for reassurance not to discuss the philosophical nature of Jefferson's insanity.
Suddenly she felt his hand warm on hers. They had never held hands before and the spark that traveled between them made her stop and look up at him.
"I didn't mean to upset you Emma. I have recently become interested in past lives and I was just intrigued by the possibilities. You are right the whole thing is ludicrous. There is no world but this one." His voice was slow and calming and she took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you. It's been a rough couple days and I just had a really strange night."
He shook his head "No need to apologize. The wounds from childhood run deep. And an orphan never really gets over being an orphan."
Emma blinked away a tear. James had somehow understood exactly why Jefferson had gotten to her. Because deep down she wished there was a good explanation for what her parents had done, that there was still a chance for the family and the happily ever after she had dreamed of as a child but that wasn't reality. The reality was that she would always be an orphan.
She met his eyes and there was a long pause. Emma became very aware of the heat of his hand and the way their knees were almost touching underneath the desk. She had told herself he could never understand her but now she wondered if she had judged him too quickly. Perhaps there was more to the blushing librarian than she knew?
Her phone chirped and James pulled his hand away as she reached for it. It was Sidney probably checking in about his search for dirt on Regina. Emma sent it to voicemail but the moment, whatever it was, had been broken.
"I should get going." She rose and reached for the book.
"Actually." He stood. "If you don't mind I would like to read it." He gave her a smile that she could only describe as winning. Emma shrugged. She had read the Mad Hatter story already and that was the only one she had been interested in.
"Sure. You can give it back to Henry when you see him."
"Absolutely." He looked down at the book and fanned the pages. "Out of curiosity who does Henry think I am, in the book?" The question seemed casual but Emma could tell that he really cared about his fairytale identity. She gave him a smirk and shoved her hands into her back pockets.
"It's not very original." She nodded to his prosthetic hand. "He thinks you're Captain Hook."
His eyebrow ticked up. "Really? Are you sure? Captain Hook?" He asked in disbelief.
"Were you hoping for a king or a prince? Being a pirate offend your law-abiding sensibilities?"
He smiled and leaned toward her while almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. "That depends do you like pirates, love?"
Emma rolled her eyes to cover the flip flop her stomach had done at the drop in his tone. "As long as they don't have perms or waxed mustaches."
"And are good with a sword?" He waggled his eyebrow and she laughed. He blushed, seemingly shocked at his own innuendo.
They grinned at each other for a long moment and then someone came into the library and Emma made her exit.
As she walked back to the station she felt lighter than she had in days and more hopeful than a person with a murder to solve and a best friend to exonerate had any right to be.
