hey friends! currently rewatching ouat to make my roommate watch it and all my swanfire feels are coming up. idk if anyone still reads swanfire in 2021 but if ur here i love you. inspired by cowboy like me from evermore! this ship is gut-wrenchingly painful to me with how the show went about it so this is just me trying to cope as i rewatch hahaha. i only intended this to be a one shot but i think i'm gonna make it a multi chapter! thanks so much for reading!

Emma slumped into one of the bar top counter chairs in Mary Margaret's - well, her family's loft. Her head was spinning from the week Storybrooke had. As relieved as she was to have the curse broken, she couldn't just unlearn everything she had thought to be true about her life. The blonde had spent her entire life thinking that her parents abandoned her, and in theory they did, but the circumstances were a little different than what she had thought out. Although, as much confusion and headache as there was, she was truly relieved. She glanced around the loft as she could hear David laughing upstairs with Henry, probably sharing stories about swords and the way he and Snow would always make it out together. Her newfound mother was brewing a cup of tea on the stove, humming softly to herself. These people were her family. A small smile appeared on her lips and she closed her eyes. Peace was something she hadn't felt in a long time. Not since…

"Hey," Snow said sweetly, pulling out a chair next to her daughter.

"Hi," Emma replied with a smile.

"Doing a lot of thinking over here, are we?"

"Well," Emma sighed. "It'd be hard not to after the week we've had. Not every day you find out your family is made up of fairytale characters and then have to completely put that on hold to fight some Harry Potter looking demon creature and…" she was interrupted by her mother's hand finding her own.

"Emma," she cooed. "It's a lot. We all know that. You don't have a time limit here. Just take it slow," she breathed. Emma's eyes met hers.

"I'm sorry. I know it's not the 'run into each other's arms' moment you and David always dreamed about." Emma glanced at her hands. "I haven't had a lot of love in my life. Once, maybe, before Henry but…" she stopped herself. Neal Cassidy was not something she wanted to out about herself yet. She winced at the thought of it. "It's just hard to get used to, is all."

Snow saw that look. She knew that look. "Henry's dad?" she said nonchalantly.

"What?"

"Henry's dad. That's who you were thinking about."

There was a brief silence. "Yeah, that's who I was thinking about."

"Oh, Emma," Snow replied, pulling her daughter in for a hug. "I'm so sorry he passed. I'm sure he loved you very much."

Emma didn't fight the hug but cringed at her mother's words. If only she knew. Maybe someday, she would tell the whole story, but tonight was not that night. "I'm never gonna love again." she said with a bittersweet smile. "Not like that."

Snow opened her mouth to protest but stopped. She had been there before. One day, she thought, Emma will think differently. But for now, she just needed her mother, and that's what she'd be.

10 years earlier

Emma rushed down the street, out of the cops' eyesight, and scurried onto a highschool's tennis courts. Thankfully they were covered and surrounded with white tent canopies as it was utterly pouring rain. This was where Neal was supposed to meet her. She'd been running a con act for a month or two now with the man who was in her stolen car, and it was oddly enough, the closest thing to companionship she'd had in a long time. The blonde had a few things here and there, all with dingy guys that never made it past a date without wanting to get her in bed. There had never been feelings of any kind, and she couldn't imagine meeting someone who acted like a normal, genuine person. Until Neal.

As much as she hated to admit it, there were feelings there. Stupid butterfly feelings and the betrayal of her knees whenever he would flash a smile at her. Not that she would admit it out loud. This was too good of a thing they had going for her to scare him off with her emotions. Sure, he was flirty, and she was back, but she was sure that he didn't mean anything by it.

Emma wrung her sopping hair out and looked around. No sign of Neal yet. They had gotten separated trying to rob a food truck of its till a few blocks down into the city. This was their failsafe meeting spot, and he told her to wait no longer than an hour before going to find the car. Emma glanced at her watch. 45 minutes. He usually was the first one back, not 45 minutes late. Maybe she got sloppy and they found him… she would never forgive herself. She would not let herself get distracted at the sake of someone else's life. She stopped her mind from worrying and paced the court in anticipation.

After a few minutes, she heard footsteps splashing from the rain. Emma glided over to the tarp by the entrance and backed up flat against it. She needed an out in case it wasn't him. To her relief, it was unmistakably Neal and she let out a sigh.

"God, Neal, you almost scared me," Emma called out.

Neal spun around and smiled at her. "Almost, Em?" he replied. He smiled to himself at the idea of Emma being worried for him as she shot him a 'shut up' look. Her heart fluttered at the nickname but God forbid she let him know that. "I got dinner," he smiled, holding up a takeout bag. "It might be an hour late and cold, but I got it!"

She relaxed her shoulders and smiled. "Yeah, what was the hold up anyways? You're always here before me," she said, trying to conceal her eagerness.

"Just a few cops stationed in the area. Had to hide in the brush till they decided it wasn't worth it to go after us," he explained. "You're soaked."

"Thanks, Mr. Obvious," she rolled her eyes. "How are you not?"

"It's called a jacket," he smirked. He knew he was able to get under her skin but she didn't seem to mind other than a few eye rolls here and there. He took the jacket off and draped it around her shoulders.

"Neal, you don't have to…" but he had already let go of it as her eyes met his. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he smiled softly at her. "Wait here, I'm gonna go get the car. It's just down the street."

"I'll come with," Emma protested before he was already halfway outside the tent.

"You're already soaked, let me do this for you!" he shouted from outside.

"You gave me your jacket you idiot," she yelled back with a small laugh. It was sweet of him, no matter if the intentions had feelings attached or not. After a few minutes, she heard the engine of their car pulling up. Neal had the radio on, as he always does, and she could hear him singing along as he walked back under the covered court.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Dance with me," Neal said almost immediately, holding out his hand.

Emma scoffed, trying to conceal her smile. "Dancing is a dangerous game, Cassidy."

"Only when it's with someone like you," he countered. "Dance with me. I love this song."

She took his hand. "Someone like me? Please, enlighten me," she smiled as her other hand found his shoulder. "And as much as it belongs in a shitty rom-com, I guess I like it too. But really, 'Truly Madly Deeply?' Seems a bit wannabe poetic."

"Hey, don't hate the music taste," he laughed back. He placed his hand gently around her waist. "Is this okay?"

Emma's heart skipped a beat. She nodded as she looked at him, inching her way closer. "You never told me what 'someone like me' means," she said lightly.

Neal glanced away as he started to lead. "Oh, I don't know, Emma," he hesitated. "You give me a run for my money," he half laughed. "You're a cowboy like me," he started.

"Takes one to know one," Emma replied with a soft smile.

"Look, Emma," he stopped moving. "I never wanted whatever it is I feel when I'm around you. I just looked out for myself, got the money I needed for the month and would dip. But you show up and I get nervous splitting up, and I don't even care about the money or things anymore."

Emma couldn't hide the blush heating her cheeks. "What is it you care about," she whispered, knowing the answer.

"I'm saying that you're smart. Smarter than me. And beautiful, and you just… you know what to say all the time. You know how to read me and we've only known each other for a couple months. You have a way of seeing right through me, Emma. And that scared the shit out of me

but it didn't scare you off, even with my nightmares. I've just never met someone like you before." He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Emma never broke eye contact. She moved her hand that was intertwined with his up to join her other hand around his neck. After a moment she took a breath, "I didn't know you thought that way about me. No one has ever told me anything like that before." Her eyes fell to their feet. "Neal, you scared me. When you got caught up. I've never been scared for someone like that before and I swore to myself that I wouldn't let you see that but…" she paused. Her eyes flickered up to meet his dark ones again. Neal gently pushed her wet hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. She continued, "I think we have something good going, Neal. I didn't want to ruin it by risking you not feeling the same way."

"Good thing you don't have anything to worry about," he whispered and closed the gap between them. He kissed her softly and Emma responded, pulling herself closer. Whatever she had just felt had to be the closest thing Earth had to magic. After a few moments, they parted, their foreheads together.

"I take it this is an official gig now, huh?" Emma breathed, her eyes still closed.

"You tell me," he grinned, pulling her in again.

Emma moved a hand through his hair, responding to his kiss before parting. "Bonnie and Clyde would be proud, don't you think," she giggled.

"Nah. They'd be jealous," he said with a smirk. "Now that that's settled, let's go eat before the radio kills the car." Neal pressed a kiss to her hair. Emma smiled to herself as they walked out to the car. She'd never felt this before. But it was unmistakable; she finally understood what it was to know peace.

Neal Cassidy stumbled into his 4 flight walk up apartment, which never seemed to get easier. It was pouring in New York, and to his luck, he left the window open. He shuffled over to close it as soon as a pigeon perched itself on the sill. A blank postcard sat under the bird's foot. It let out a coo and flew off, as Neal fumbled the postcard. Greetings from Storybrooke. His heart skipped a beat as he tried to control the flood of memories that came rushing in. "Emma. She did it."