Soo, yeah. Sorry again. We're not talking about it. Expect some longer chapters because this might actually start with the plot soon. Also, Jefferson's coming to the party, but there's no Mad Swan - just bromance.
David's entire afternoon was spent in a haze after the diner.
Partially because of the migraine – going back to the hospital was probably a very good idea. A splitting headache in a very recently awakened coma patient couldn't be a great sign. But David would rather sit alone in his dim, old fashioned inn room than the brightly lit and sterile hospital any day. The inn was old, and deceptively roomy. From the outside it merely looked like a house, but judging by the vast amount of keys hanging on the wall behind the front desk, there were more than a few bedrooms to spare.
''Turndown's at eight,'' Granny had barked at him, handing him a key and a pen. ''Sign here. No room service but you know about the diner. We open at five, close at nine.''
''Thanks,'' he had said, offering what he hoped was a friendly smile through the splitting, almost transcendental pain in his head. The key was for the second floor room, one with a window overlooking the wooded backyard. David locked himself in, drew the curtains against the four o'clock light, and flopped face first onto the bed, shutting his eyes.
That had been about an hour ago. Napping shouldn't have come so easily to someone who'd been half dead for sixteen years, but when he woke, he felt considerably refreshed, the pain reduced to a dull, manageable ache, and his stomach growling for dinner. Huh. So much for the recovery period Whale had spoken about (''Broths, Mr. Nolan, and tea'') – he felt like he could eat a horse.
Heaving himself from the bed, David pulled the curtains back open to peek outside. It was just barely light in the sky, the cloudcover from earlier streaking pink and purple on the horizon. It was probably the prettiest thing David had seen after waking, and he found himself smiling before picking his jacket up off the solo chair in the room, and pocketing his keys. Granny's Diner was sounding pretty good, and the lure of meeting a few more members of the odd little town – maybe even the woman from the hospital, or the girl at the diner who'd seemed so familiar – brightened his mood considerably.
Although cooking made Mary Margaret happy, and was a good outlet for any feeling she was having at any given time, there were just those days when she really couldn't be bothered to cook for herself, and found that bundling up in a corner at Grannys with the daily soup and a club sandwich was the best way to go. This was one of those days. Her dress and boots had been swapped for her favorite jeans, chunky sweater, and worn in flats during a quick stop off at her apartment to dump the day's homework and pick up a few books to read during dinner, and Ruby had just left a steaming mug of her hot cocoa on the table. Mary Margaret sipped at it happily, inhaling the light scent of cinnamon that filled the air, and flicking her finger through some of the whip that topped the drink.
The evening was slow, languid, the rainstorm from earlier apparently having driven the town to their own residences for the night. The indistinct radio played from tinny speakers in the corners of the room, and the sunset left warm streaks of color throughout the sky. Mary Margaret felt at peace, warm and comfortable, until the bell on the door jingled, letting in a small stream of people into the formerly quiet diner.
Coma patient David Nolan was one, of course.
He didn't see her. He looked a little pale still, a little drawn, but he was fully dressed and had a genuine smile for Ruby as she pointed towards a small booth not too far from where Mary Margaret was.
She didn't expect him to remember her. How could she? But, in the grand tradition of crushes – god, that sounded childish – her heart sank when he walked right past her and settled at his own table. It was irrational, and if Mary Margaret were truly that invested, she'd stand right up and go over to flirt with him. But she'd never been much of a starter – flirting wise, anyway. It was all such a mixture of thin lines and careful boundaries: what the hell made flirting, flirting, rather than just talking.
Sighing, she finished the dregs of her cooling cocoa. Ruby brought the clam chowder and club sandwich over to her table, swept her mug up with her. Mary Margaret drew her book out again and attempted to immerse herself into it.
''Hey.''
She wished she could say she hadn't jolted a little. Not only at being interrupted, but at the fact that that was so not Ruby's voice coming from above her, and in fact it was David Nolan's. He was smiling down at her, hands stuffed a little awkwardly in his jacket pockets, as if he didn't really know what to do with them otherwise.
''Hi,'' she said dumbly back, blinking once, twice, and then smiling. ''How are you? Feeling good?''
His small smile broke into a wide grin, and dear god he was staring into her eyes. She felt a little sick in the best way.
''Very. Slept for most of the afternoon, actually. Guess I couldn't get enough of it.'' He snorted a little, shaking his head. ''Funnily enough, I feel more awake for it.''
''You look good.'' Smooth. ''I mean – you look better. Less pale.'' This was not getting better the more she said. Damn her fair coloring; she could feel a flush rising to her cheeks.
But he was still smiling, still staring down at her and not looking away at all which could have been creepy, but his eyes were beautiful and Mary Margaret's night had just been made by this interaction so far.
''You want to join me?'' She waved at the open spot on the other side of the table.
''Really? I mean, if you really want me to – I didn't mean to cut in - ''
''Not at all,'' she cut off.
He sat with no more protestation.
Ruby brought their food out with a knowing smirk aimed at Mary Margaret, having smoothly redirected David's fish n' chips and ginger ale over to accommodate their new seating arrangement. She scooted the plates onto the table and straightened, arching one perfectly black eyebrow as her eyes flitted between the couple before she clicked away. At least she hadn't said anything. David didn't seem to notice anything, anyway.
He ate fast – he was trying to be slower, she could tell, but he looked starving and so they spent most of ten minutes eating heartily, sometimes meeting each others eyes from across the table, until Mary Margaret finished the last of the tomato on her club and David his last chunk of fish.
''Want some chips?'' He pushed the basket towards her. ''I'm stuffed.''
''Oh, no, I don't want to take - ''
''Don't worry about it. Really. We'll split them.''
He divided the small pile in half, and carefully squirted a tiny patch of ketchup on one side of the paper. ''Sorry,'' he said with a lopsided little smile, ''I can't eat 'em without it. Not that I've really tried, you know, other than today.'' His smile turned a little sad.
''Do you remember?''
His brow furrowed a little and Mary Margaret rushed to clarify. ''I mean – before. The coma. Sixteen years ago.''
Dipping the last fry into his ketchup, David's eyes broke away from hers for what was probably the longest during their entire dinner – they drifted to somewhere over her shoulder, almost glazing over, distance filling them. ''No,'' he said finally, heaving a deep sigh, and blinking rapidly as if to clear his vision. ''Honestly, I don't. It's all a blur – like, I guess I know I went to college. U of Maine, I think. But...it's not like I have anything. I don't have a college sweatshirt. I don't remember any of my friends, I don't even have shoes that are mine.'' He sighed again, running hands through his hair, looking deeply troubled. ''I've got nothing, Mary Margaret.''
As he broke off, one of his hands came to rest on the tabletop, and Mary Margaret didn't think twice about placing her own over it.
''You don't have nothing,'' she said quietly, waiting briefly until he glanced up from the tabletop to look at her. ''You have me. I'm your friend, David Nolan. I'll help you.''
It was a miracle Ruby hadn't come back to check on them, for their entire conversation was getting insanely heavy for a dinner over soup, in a room with twenty other people.
''Thank you.'' He turned his palm over under her smaller hand, wrapping them both together and squeezing softly. ''I could use that.''
This was all going a hell of a lot faster than Gold had ever anticipated.
Hopefully that was a good thing. Although few in the town liked acknowledging his presence, much less assisting him, he'd managed to rope a measly little teenager into doing some light spy work for him – the boy was shifty eyed, scuffing his feet against the sidewalk Gold had caught him on, and finally straightening at the mention of a crisp pair of twenties Gold discreetly drew from his wallet.
Kids were too easy.
Anyway, the boy had reported back that he had, in fact, not only seen David Nolan having dinner at Granny's, but seen him having dinner over soup with 'that schoolteacher.'
''She's the kind of hot one,'' he'd blurted, turning beet red a second later. ''Er, sorry, Mr. Gold. Sir. The elementary school lady. Pale...sweater.''
He'd trailed off a little at the look Gold was giving him.
So, feeling more than a little smug, Gold had sent the little runt on his way, forty dollars richer, and had let himself stew in this new knowledge – Prince Charming and Snow White had already found each other, and the girl had barely been in town three days. He had to wonder why things were falling into place so easily, but he supposed that was just the curse – it couldn't stay this way forever, not when Emma Swan existed, and maybe it was just picking up on the sheer bullheadedness the girl sometimes exuded, and tripping over itself to break for her before she began to actively smash it.
Or maybe the Evil Queen was trying to manipulate her irritating way into his head and plans.
Gold could be a paranoid man at the best of times, and it was with this unsettling thought that he ate dinner with Emma – a roast he'd managed not to scald or char in any way -, trying in vain to keep conversation flowing despite his growing desperation to go and have it out with Regina right then.
Patience was necessary, and Regina could wait until closer to eight o'clock that evening, after the girl was fed and the roast put away – perhaps now was a good time for him to begin brainstorming ways to get Swan closer to her parents without looking odd.
''So, what's there to do around here?''
This. This is what he meant by things being a little too easy sometimes.
''Pardon?''
Emma swallowed another mouthful of chicken and gravy. ''I mean – are there, like, sports? A library? That stuff. I liked wandering around but it's going to be a few months till school starts, so...'' she shrugged, taking another bite of her food.
Hm. The schools had a bit of a library – well, a collection of texts, he supposed. It was something he knew vaguely, and like a lot of things he knew about this town and world it had never really been elaborated on. Now was as good a time as any.
''You could see if Granny needs help at the diner or the inn,'' he suggested, ''or see if one of the teachers at the school lets you into the library early. And you may want to wander just a bit more, dearie. There are quite a few lovely places that are a bit out of the way.'' He thought of the Hatter's manor, and grimaced a little. ''Just stay close to town. Avoid the outlier's houses and such. And you know you're welcome to anything I have to read here,'' he added, as an afterthought. His books on magic and portals and his dusty tomes from the enchanted forest were safely in his shop. Here, he had classics and books about nature. Hardly anything too fascinating, but perhaps she'd find them bearable.
''Okay,'' Emma said slowly, looking as though she were thinking hard about something. ''Thanks. I'll definitely do...probably all of that.''
''Good.'' He polished off his last bite of roast and scooted his chair away. ''I've a business meeting shortly, I'm afraid. Will you be okay on your own?''
''Of course,'' the girl murmured, licking a bit of gravy from her fork. He thought he saw a hint of sadness across her face, but it was gone now if it had ever been there. ''Do you care if I wander around a little now?''
It was dark, but it wasn't raining. He doubted anyone here would seriously try to hurt the girl. He also doubted she was unfamiliar with keeping herself safe in the event of chaos.
''Just be very careful,'' he cautioned. ''Dress warm. Bring a light.''
'''Kay.'' Standing herself, she washed her plate, fork, and cup carefully before placing them in the drying rack. ''Good luck with your meeting.''
''Thank you, dear. Stay safe.''
''I will!'' She was already halfway up the stairs, her little feet padding on the carpeting as she went, likely in search of shoes and a coat, and – hopefully – the light he'd mentioned. He had not doubt she'd have a penchant for trouble – how could she not, given her parentage and own personality? He could only hope she'd not get herself into anything too awful.
Ignoring the niggling feeling of worry that poked his brain, Gold shrugged his own coat on, followed by his darkest scarf, and snatched up his car keys. Regina was rarely intimidated by him – or anyone, for that matter – but looking imposing never hurt anything. Or, not him, at least.
There was something weird about the way Gold didn't try to police everything she did. Or the way that he managed to not really care and yet not be a pot bellied drunk. Hey – Emma had only really been exposed to a certain crowd of people her entire life. Either they cared too much, or they sat in front of the cable, drinking and watching TV, and she could have gotten pregnant or murdered and they'd probably barely look up.
Gold was...not either of those. And that was strange.
Emma didn't always do well with strange, however easily adaptable she liked to think of herself as being.
Tucking her hands into the pockets of her windbreaker she set off at a brisk walk. A business meeting at seven thirty at night? He was a pawnshop owner. Maybe he just got weird clientele.
And it was totally not any of her business but as always curiosity reared itself in Emma at any opportunity. Business meeting at eight. More wandering. Avoid the manor. Maybe there was a really well hidden club that didn't card and wasn't horrible. Not that Emma wanted to go out dancing – what, was she going to bring someone home to her teenaged bedroom? Hah. Gross.
She had yet to see another teenager in the entire town, though, in all her two days of being there. Usually small towns had lots of teenagers; all roaming the streets after dark or crowded the junk food aisles at grocery stores, or at least working the fast food counters. There weren't any of those around here either, and Emma could really have used a nice McFlurry after all the pot roast she'd inhaled at dinner. Gold didn't strike her as a dessert kind of man and Emma was definitely an ice cream and cookies kind of girl. Maybe there was an ice cream parlor. These people had to eat at places other than Granny's.
As she walked, it spat a little rain out, which stopped maybe five minutes after Emma glared up at the sky in some kind of powerless warning. Don't rain on me tonight, damn it. The last thing she wanted was to drag her sorry butt into granny's like a wet puppy again, however good the hot chocolate was. There was more to this town that just that, she knew it in her bones.
If people saw the waify looking teenager tromping about in the dark, no one stopped her. In fact, there was very little noise at all. She inevitably passed Granny's, where the stereo from inside could be heard, but there were no party sounds, no loud club or car stereo music, nothing. ''Good lord, I'm actually in a retirement community.''
Like someone who'd just been pumped full of life again, David had enough energy to the point where he was actually considering taking up exercising right then, in his jeans and jacket, because he was bursting and maybe jogging it off was what it was going to take to get him together again.
''Thank you for the company,'' Mary Margaret had smiled shyly after they paid their bills and were standing under the trellis outside Granny's. ''I really liked it. You. Talking to you, I mean.''
She had been blushing again – it was incredibly pretty.
''I liked it too. If we're being honest -''
'' - haven't we been all night?''
''- I feel the best I've felt since I first opened my eyes.''
It was kind of a line. David knew this. It served to deepen her blush and cause butterflies to start bombarding David's stomach lining.
''Can I see you again?''
He blurted it out a little, but he felt like a man drowning. No memories, no real life, but he knew that if he saw this face everyday for the rest of his life he'd be able to keep his mind from falling apart; he could fill the space with new memories and sensations, like her adorable laugh or more about how she liked teaching or the way she looked in the morning.
Or other things. Lots of other things that David wasn't going to push now because he'd known her for five minutes and he was some kind of a gentleman – if he knew nothing about himself, he knew that.
''Do you want to?''
''Yes,'' he answered without a flicker of hesitation. A beat passed. ''If you want,'' he added hastily, his heart suddenly dropping at the idea that maybe he was the crazy stalker guy of everyone's nightmares, and she was going to walk away and never speak to him again.
''I really want,'' she said, eyes widening a little. ''Please. I just...''
She shook her head a little. ''I want to talk to you all the time.''
''Yeah,'' David said, nodding along. ''Walk me home?''
She snickered. ''Protect you from any unwanted charmers?''
''Hey, I wouldn't doubt it,'' David said, shaking his head as they started to walk. ''I saw how fired up you got over Gone with the Wind earlier. And I've never even read it. I was a little nervous, I swear it.''
She was laughing, and they continued bantering all the way up the street towards the quiet inn, where, outside of the front doorway, he kissed her.
Her cheek, but her skin was warm and soft and the closer he leaned into her the stronger she smelled of warm cinnamon and some soft, pretty soapy smell. Not cloying. Just really damn lovely.
''Goodnight,'' he'd breathed, a little dazed, and she had gazed back up at him, looking something similar to how he felt.
''See you soon.''
And that was where they'd parted. Nothing more than a peck on the cheek and he was already worked up like crazy – he had the urge to laugh loudly, or jump up and down, or recount the night in excruciating detail to some listener who would probably end up punching him in the face for a story that lasted almost as long as his and Mary Margaret date-type dinner had.
But that was how he found himself wandering the streets, a good thirty minutes after the doorstep kiss, hands in his pockets against the chilly air, going in a direction he thought was the beach, judging by the rushing sound that was growing louder as he got closer.
No one else was around – this was truly a quiet little community – and he was close to just breaking into a jog towards the ocean shore when he saw her.
It was the girl from earlier, he realized after a second. She was walking on the other side of the street, blond hair tucked into her jacket, going just about the same pace as he was, a contemplative expression on her face. David had a moment's impulse to duck into the shadows so as not to make her nervous, but then realized that the sight of a grown man skulking in the shadows would probably scare her more than a passing stranger on an empty street.
Just like earlier, he felt his brain working to place her face, trying so hard and yet coming up with absolutely nothing. It was scrambling for images and comparisons that simply weren't there, and the last thing David wanted was his headache back. He drew his eyes away from her and continued on his way, taking in a lungful of salty air and letting his thoughts wander.
''Hey!''
It was a loud shout across the empty street and it made his spine tighten as he whipped back around to face the only other person he knew was there.
Sure enough, she was still there, only now, she wasn't alone.
daddy!Charming to the rescue next chapter - what's going to be trying to hurt Emma? A mean dog? An actual villain? Nothing at all? Please tell me because I have no idea...