Title: Jitters
Summary: Finding a date for the wedding is harder than she thought, but not for the reasons it should be.
Note: Post Five Times Emma Thought About Getting Married, pre Plans for Home. Anon asked "In RH, did Emma ever have a pre-wedding freak-out? Did Graham?" I'm certain they both had more moments of nervousness, but here's one where they're actually talking about it.
It was dark out, moonlight slipping into the room from the open curtain. She felt boneless, draped over his chest. The sheets were tangled at her ankles and her skin was cool wherever his wasn't firmly pressed, but she couldn't bring herself to reach for the covers. He stroked her hair in long, slow movements, the other arm curling her to his body by her waist.
It was a holiday, the day after being presented the small band that was currently resting on her finger. It still felt like they were in this little bubble, the real world not infringing on the newness their life had taken. Tomorrow she'd store that ring in its box until they sorted out a ceremony to give it permanent placement, and they'd go back to work.
"I'll need to call Maggie," she said, her eyes slowly blinking as he threaded through her tresses. She was easily fatigued for the past month, and that didn't really help things. But for now she was relaxed and lazy as she thought about what she had to do. "And get the girls together."
He hummed a low sound of agreement but didn't stop the languid caress. "I'll start letting the precinct know tomorrow," he agreed. "I'll need a day off, and I'll get a leave scheduled near the end."
She propped her head up on her palm, staring down at him. He didn't bother to shave yesterday or today and stubble was forming along his jaw and cheeks. His hair was damp at the scalp, curls twisting along his temples. His eyes were closed, but brow furrowed as he thought about what was left to do. Finally, her eyes darted down to his hand, the bare finger. "When do you want to get married?" she asked bluntly.
His lips curled up and he grabbed her left hand. With a thumb, he brushed across the metal on there. "Whenever you're ready," he said simply.
Her stomach bubbled, nervous energy popping through her. She gulped down a breath before cupping his jaw in her hand. "Preferably before morning sickness hits," she said, half teasingly.
His smile grew into a grin and his eyes popped open. He leaned forward to capture her in a brief kiss. "I could work with that."
She leaned into him to press into a harder kiss, trying to squelch the sudden drop in her stomach. Holding on to him made her feel more secure, the tightness melting away if only for a moment. Heat slowly built within her again, and she sighed into his mouth as he met her seamlessly.
After a long moment, he deliberately separated them, keeping close but also making room for their conversation to continue. He was staring at her with that sheen in his eye, an awe that still felt so foreign. He bumped their noses. "We're pregnant," he whispered to himself, and his palm moved to cover her stomach.
The nerves perked up again, and she forced herself not to tense in his arms. She nodded swiftly, and dropped her cheek to his chest. She felt a little lightheaded, the idea of the two major milestones colliding in her head. It wasn't bad, these things that were happening. She wanted them both.
But she didn't feel pregnant. She didn't feel engaged. Not yet.
"What about Friday?"
She tilted her head to look up at him. "What about Friday?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "Wanna get married then?"
She pressed her lips together, ignoring the way her heart raced anxiously. "Okay," she replied softly.
With a twist, he switched their positions so she was laying against the pillow. She sighed pleasantly as he settled over her, willing to sublimate so she could deal with her anxiety later. She wrapped her legs around his hips and her hands rolled up his back to keep him close. Carefully, he placed kisses along her collarbone and ascended her neck, lingering at the juncture of her jaw and ear. "Too quick?"
She felt a burst of relief; realizing just how well he knew her and would accommodate her was exhilarating. She took a moment to think about it, to consider if she did think it was too soon. Finally, she shook her head. "No, not really. I want to be married to you, Graham," she asserted. It didn't matter if it were months down the line or tomorrow; both filled her with the same emotions.
"But?" he prompted, lips brushing her cheekbone.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. She should have known he wouldn't let her leave it at that. She took a deep breath and dug up her worries. "It'll make it real."
She can feel his smile on her skin. "Kind of the point."
She let out a harsh exhale of a laugh. "Once we go out there tomorrow, once we start planning … it'll be real. Not in a 'this is one reality' kind of way, like everything else is. It'll just be us. It'll make our lives, both versions … it'll make them just one."
He leaned back a fraction to look her in the eye. "Does that scare you?"
She played with the hair at the nape of his neck, thinking about the question for a long moment. "Yes. Because then it can be taken away more easily."
His hand drifted down to her stomach again. "Me or the baby?"
"All of it." There was the crux of her feelings. This baby was their lives, their pasts merging. It set this life in stone, the only reality for them. Something about the idea of their child, the mix of them that grew within her, made her startlingly aware of how quickly he had been taken from her in that first life. If she told people about the pregnancy and stood in front of a judge to tell the world just how much she cared for Graham ….
"Nothing's promised, Emma, but making it real isn't going to make it disappear," he said delicately.
She nodded jerkily. Logically, she knew this. They've dealt with this idea before, back when he was in the hospital. They went over the ways to make it feel better, to have that courage to move forward. She couldn't make herself calm with that knowledge, though. It was so much to lose, now. "Are you scared?" she finally asked.
He gave a wry smile. "Definitely."
She blinked. "Really?"
He nodded. "Yeah, really."
"You never seem it," she mumbled.
He stared down at her belly for a long moment before his lashes flicked up. "I didn't think I'd be able to do this for you. I didn't think I'd be … I didn't think fate would let me. And I still have so much of my past that hasn't caught up with me yet, and I'm scared of that. And I was dead half a year ago, so there's that, too."
He said it was such casualness that she shivered involuntarily. She never pressed that idea before, but now she couldn't help asking, "Do you remember it?"
He hesitated, and in that moment she saw such a stark vulnerability that her breath caught. "Not really," he said slowly. "I just remember grey, and feeling alone. I'm sure there was more, but it's not letting me remember."
Her fingers tensed into his shoulder blades, brows stitching as she tried not to linger on it. "But you remember dying," she said bluntly.
He nodded. "Yeah, I remember. I don't like thinking about it, but I remember."
She took that in. "Was it like it was with me and Henry? Did you just wake up here like it was a normal day?"
His brow wrinkled as he considered it. "Yeah, I suppose. Thinking back … I don't think I can even tell when the first day was. It's like it's always been this way."
"Yeah," she murmured. She reviewed what he said in her mind, going back to the other things he feared. They've talked about the pregnancy, but not bluntly. She knew he was happy, and knew he was planning their future, but his 'do this for you' was standing in her mind and niggling its way to her doubts. "What do you really think about being a father, Graham?"
A slow smile crossed his face, cobalt eyes lighting up, telling her all she needed even before his mouth shaped words. One shoulder went up, and a flash of teeth sparked before he kissed her again. His lips still touched hers when he broke this kiss, dark eyes set on her. "I'm absolutely terrified."
Her eyebrows rose. "Terrified?"
He nodded. "Terrified," he reiterated. He kissed her again, and his palm flattened over her stomach. "I can't wait, but I don't know how to do this. I'm scared I'll screw it all up, but I – I'm so excited that I get the chance to be a dad."
"And Henry—"
"I hope he lets me be his dad, too," he said and she can see the nervousness bubbling within him. "I don't know how I got this lucky."
She let out a long breath, tears pooling in her throat. "Exactly. That's why I'm so scared."
He nodded, and took her hand. He played with her fingers absently. "I've never been lucky. Not for one moment of that first life, at least. Meeting you in Storybrooke … well, for those months I could consider it working toward lucky. Nothing like this, though."
She squeezed her eyes tight, trying not to think of his body's drop in her arms, of losing him before they got a chance to experience what she knew even back then was love. She counted back in her head, over all the events of hope that were ripped from her … she could relate. "I was never lucky, either."
He rested his forehead on hers. "I know. Maybe that's why we're getting this restart. So we can have our chance at luck."
"It would mean embracing it," she said with a nod. She looked into his dark eyes and brushed her hands over his face. Absently, she found the things she loved about him that she hoped to find on their child's face. She could admit it, now. She did feel lucky. And she wanted that feeling to continue, as much as it frightened her. "Friday sounds like a good place to start."
He smiled. "Yeah?"
Her hands wandered down his back, eyes darkening as she grinned. "Yeah. Now show me how lucky I am."
Later, after she'd gotten her breath back and was feeling like she could take on the world, she called Maggie. If she was going to make this real, starting with her best friend seemed like the thing to do.
"Hello?"
"Mags. Think you can use those miles to come out for Friday?"
"Did he finally ask?"
She blinked. "You knew?"
"Please. He was prying for your ring size back in October."
Her mouth dropped open. "October?" She turned to the bed to see him grinning smugly from the pillow.
"Yeah. What made him finally think you're ready?"
She sat on the edge of the bed, beaming down at him. "October," she chastised playfully with a shake of her head. He shrugged and then leaned up to nuzzle into her neck.
She bit her lip, feeling her worries smooth away. For all the reasons her stomach had been in knots before, it was strange that this fact released many of them. It wasn't because she was pregnant, or because it was the right thing to do. He asked her to marry him because he wanted to be married to her.
"You stuck on that? Honestly, I'm surprised it took this long, too." Her friend's voice was teasing.
She pressed the phone to her ear, but gazed lovingly at him. She mouthed a simple 'I love you,' to which he responded by embracing her more fully.
"It's not a necessity, but it's something I want," he reiterated, and her heart tugged all the more. Her grip on the phone slackened, and she kissed him again.
"Hello? Can we discuss how this came to be, or am I going to have to call back after you jump your new fiancé?"
She snorted and pulled away. "Can you come Friday?"
"Of course. Actually, make it Thursday. I'll help you get ready."
"Good. Then I can make sure you're not still freaking out that I'm pregnant, too."
"Wait, what?"