Sorry guys for the long delay! Life has been picking up lately which means that this girl has been busy :)

Thank you for all of the kind reviews that filled the silent gap. It made me want to get this chapter done quicker for you. Thank you for your patience :)

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing

Chapter 4 of Turkey Season: David's Level, Mary-Margaret's Secrets

"I'm honestly not seeing what the big deal is," Emma said with a hint of agitation in her tone as she studied the brown orange mess in the Pyrex that Mary-Margaret was fussing over. "They're yams. Yams aren't even the best Thanksgiving side dish."

She may as well have kicked a puppy what with the stare Mary-Margaret gave her.

"Yams are a tradition. It's not Thanksgiving without yams," the princess said slowly and firmly, her heartbroken expression turning into a dark glare. "And I burned them! I mean, look at them! They're completely charred."

Emma wasn't a cook by any means if her past life of take-out and boxed dinners were of any indication but glancing at the dish she had to raise a brow. Sure the sides were a bit dark and there were some black flakes charring bits of the top but it wasn't like it wasn't salvageable.

"Why don't you just scrape the black stuff off and make mashed yams or something? It's really not that bad…it's all mushy underneath that black stuff."
"Mashed yams?"

Emma shrugged as she looked toward the living room where David sat watching football commercials with a beer in his hand, wishing that she could be sitting right beside him. She could use a glass of everything that her and Hook had secured on his special list from the day before but instead she sat on a stool at the island, smashing biscuits together between her palms wearing the most hideous, flowery apron ever imagined.

"Yeah…maybe you could use the juice or whatever as gravy? I don't know. I'm not good at this cooking thing," Emma finally muttered as she flopped a biscuit down onto the greased cookie tray. Mary-Margaret knit her brows together and tapped a finger to her lips as she looked at her creation in consideration before her face split into a slow grin.
"Well, it's worth a try," she finally said as she bent over to fetch a bowl from a bottom cupboard and Emma pursed her lips together in an effort to not say anything she might regret later.

She was tired. She had woken up at six o'clock sharp that morning no thanks to her mother who had decided that the rising of the sun was the perfect time to get Thanksgiving dinner started. Emma had tried to fall back asleep but to no avail due to the clanking of ceramic bowls and pots, and eventually had thrown her feet from under the warmth of her covers to the chilly wooden floorboards to see what nonsense was going on.

Emma's lips quirked up in a smile at the memory of a tired David sitting at the bar with his face leaning on one hand while his other hand poured a shot of Bailey's into his coffee. To David, Thanksgiving was obviously the holiday for getting smashed.

There was a knock on the door just then and Emma looked up just in time to see Mary-Margaret look like she was about to shoot out of her skin. Her eyes were wide as she wiped her hands down the front of her apron, a nervous smile shaking on her lips while she threw a glance toward the sitting area.

"David, honey, can you please get the door?"

There was a moment's pause and then the sound of a glass bottle settling on the side table.

"Why don't you get the door, dear."

What the hell? Emma raised a brow and watched as Mary-Margaret shot him a dirty look before lifting her chin in a defiant kind of way.

"Because I'm making you dinner. You can get the door, David."
"Mary-Margaret, really. I think you should get the door," he argued back and Emma rolled her eyes as she stood up from the table. She wasn't sure what in the world was going on between the two of them; maybe it was Mary-Margaret fretting over every little thing or David waking up with rum in his mouth, but whoever was waiting at the door didn't have forever to wait.

"I'll be the grown-up and get the door," Emma declared to the room as she shed off the apron. No way was she getting caught in that blueberry blue and raspberry pink contraption. "It's probably just Killian anyways," she added as she shot a look to both of her parents who nonchalantly glanced away like children who'd just been scolded.

Sure enough Hook stood in the foyer with a smirk on his face, obviously having heard every little bit of the conversation that had occurred on Emma's side of the door.

"'Ello, love," he smiled and she smiled back, her eyes falling to the orange flowers that he held in his arms.
"Roses?"
"Well, I'm not a cook now am I?"

Mary-Margaret was at Emma's elbow in an instant with a balmy smile on her face that hadn't been there before.

"Aw, Killian…you shouldn't have," she said in a sing song voice and Hook just shrugged as he was relieved of the bouquet which allowed him to glance up and down Emma with appreciation, something that Mary-Margaret missed as she turned back toward the kitchen.

Emma felt heat crawl up her neck at his speculative gaze and stepped aside so he could come in which he did, managing to touch just about every point of her body in the process. He gave her a dangerous smile and she shot one back at him, her hand reaching out to play with the lapel of his coat. Biting her lip she gave him a sultry look, her green eyes saying what she couldn't in front of her parents and Hook suddenly held the desire to whisk her away for a quiet, or not too quiet, afternoon in his quarters.

It had been a bloody four weeks time since they'd become official and he couldn't hold out too much longer. Yes, he was wanting to take things slow but hell, he didn't have to be a prude.

"What are you doing later tonight?" she asked in a hushed tone as her hands still played with his coat, her finger tips barely grazing across his chest leaving sparks of electricity blooming at the contact.
"Nothing at all, love. Why? Can't keep your hands to yourself?"
"Actually I was wanting to play a game to see just how long you could keep your hand to yourself. You know a looking but not touching kind of game."

She gave him a smirk and before he could respond she pat his cheek in a mock consolatory way and walked back to the table she was stationed at, leaving Hook reeling in her wake.

Hook's eyes lighted on David who was sitting on the couch with his eyes glued to the tv and a beer in his hand, seeming to be completely oblivious to Hook and Emma's back and forth. It had take several weeks of much brow raising and interrogating as well as one on one sword fighting before he'd finally started to warm up to the pirate. As long as Emma didn't come home crying, Hook could keep his head.

"Mate," Hook nodded and David met his gaze and raised his bottle to the pirate.
"Hook. If you wanna beer they're in the fridge."

Hook raised a brow at the slight slur in David's speech and took in the several empty bottles that were taking residence on the small table beside the couch. There was no way the prince was borderline drunk. It was only two in the afternoon.

"Alright, don't mind if I do," Hook finally nodded as he made his way to the kitchen where Mary-Margaret was at work putting the bouquet together in a vase that of course had birds hand painted on it. He tried not to roll his eyes too hard at that minor detail as he opened the fridge and grabbed himself something in an amber bottle, not really caring what it was as long as it was alcoholic.

Settling himself down into the chair opposite the prince he glanced at the tv Emma had shown him just days prior as he twisted the cap off of his beer.

"What's this?" he finally asked not understanding why the armies that were obviously playing across the screen weren't wielding swords.
"Football," David said as he took a swig, taking note of Hook's raised brow as the pirate took a drink of his own. "Basically just cheer for whoever makes it to the other side of the field with the ball without getting tackled."

Hook was sure there was a lot more to it than that but he didn't prod for more, figuring he'd just ask questions as the war went along.

"Who are you cheering for?"
"Raiders," David said after a thoughtful second. "They're the ones in black," he explained.
"Aye, black. Good color."

Emma listened to their back and forth with a smile on her face as she handed Mary-Margaret the tray of rolls she had finished.

"What do you need me to do now?"

Mary-Margaret glanced around the counter at the covered dishes of mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, homemade cranberry sauce and everything else she had read made a great Thanksgiving dinner before glancing at the clock. 2:20. Forty minutes and soon the moment she had been waiting for and had kind of been dreading would arrive.

"Well, the food is done. The Tur-duck-en has about fifteen more minutes and we'll go ahead and pop these biscuits in. Why don't you set the tab-actually no," Mary-Margaret frowned. There was no way she was wanting to explain to Emma why she was going to have to set nine spots for dinner instead of the expected five. She had forty minutes until she had to deal with her daughter's wrath and she was going to enjoy them while she could in case they happened to be her last.

She glanced at Emma who gave her a suspicious look and she realized that she was on her daughter's are-you-lying-to-me radar.

"Why don't you clean the table off and get a cloth for it. That would be lovely. Oh, and if you could find some candlesticks and place the flowers over there as well that would be great."
"Mary-Margaret…what are you hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything," the pixie haired woman answered a bit too quickly and ducked her head as she focused on dumping the newly mashed yams into a serving bowl.

Emma crossed her arms, not at all convinced.

"David," she called, gaining the attention of the somewhat inebriated prince as she turned toward him. "What is your wife up to?"

An expression of complete calm crossed over David's face as he looked from Emma to Mary-Margaret who was shooting him a look that seemed to silently threaten his very life. His face finally split into a silly grin, an effect Emma was sure was a result from his many beers and other alcoholic beverages, and just raised his beer toward her.

"Nothing I'm sure you're going to love," he literally crowed before chuckling as if someone had told him the funniest joke. "If I were you, I'd start drinking," he finally advised when he was done and Emma glanced toward Hook who looked between the three of them like he was trying to put together a big, confusing puzzle only intended for masterminds.

"Mary-Margaret, what are you up to?"
"Nothing. Just go set the table, Emma," Mary-Margaret broke out in her teacher voice as she set the bowl of mashed yams down none too gently on the counter.
"Not until you tell me what's going on!"
"Emma, don't start on this just set the table!"

Mary-Margaret threw her an exasperated look and Emma stared her down. She hated being lied to but the one thing she hated most was when people kept things from her and Mary-Margaret keeping secrets from her made her wary. Especially if it was the reason for David, who had never drank himself into a stupor before, to be on the edge of tipsy before three in the afternoon.

"Fine," she relented and turned sharply on her heel for the linen closet.

Hook watched Mary-Margaret slide the biscuits into the oven, her movements jolted and quick with aggravation and he suddenly felt like an intruder. For the first time in his life he wished he was on the outside looking in.

He glanced back at David whose eyes were once again focused on the tv screen and he leaned back against the chair, his mind focusing on everything but the interesting war called football. Emma reappeared with a table cloth in her hands, balancing a box of candle sticks on the top of the material the same time there was a knock on the door.

Hook raised a brow at the expression that crossed Mary-Margaret's face; it was one of guilt and confusion, her eyes darting toward the clock like it was a traitor of some sort. It was then that he realized that she was expecting someone and judging by the look on her face, he wasn't sure if he'd like who it was that was waiting on the other side of the door.

"Is there someone at the door?" Emma questioned, her eyes instantly gluing themselves to Mary-Margaret's face who shifted her weight from one foot to the other in a way that expressed just how uncomfortable she was feeling.
"Yes," she said as she slowly removed her apron and avoided Emma's probing gaze as she turned toward the door like it was a life sentence.

"Who is it, Mary-Margaret?"
"Just set the table, Emma."
"You may want to grab another drink," David hissed to Hook and Hook was beginning to think that David was onto something as he chugged down the last bit of alcohol in his bottle.
"Don't talk to me like a child. Who's at the door," Emma grit out and Mary-Margaret finally broke down.

"Fine…fine!" she waved her hands through the air in vivid motions to emphasize each word. "I may have invited several people!"

Emma tilted her head not finding the problem with that. It definitely explained why Mary-Margaret was going crazy over this dinner but it didn't explain why she was jumpy and keeping it a secret. She glanced at David whose eyes had widened to the size of saucers and she had a feeling there was more to it.

She rounded the counter the same time Mary-Margaret did and the men watched in amusement as the women raced for the door, nearly body slamming into it. Emma got there first and whipped it open, Mary-Margaret's eyes flashing to Regina who stood in the foyer with a surprised look on her face.

Emma's mouth dropped open, barely hearing the small groan that escaped Mary-Margaret as she took in the Evil Queen's presence, from her casual business attire to the apple pie in her hands and then to the dry grin that faltered on her face.

"Now do you see why I've been drinking all day?" David bellowed from his place on the couch and Emma felt Hook's presence pass behind her toward the kitchen, no doubt with the intention to find one of the five bottles of rum taking residence on the counter.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Emma finally asked when she snapped out of her stupor, crossing her arms across her chest in a manner that dared Regina to try to pass a lie by her.

"Well, Henry invited me. Said that your mother here extended an open invitation," Regina answered coolly as she fixed her glare on the pixie haired woman who silently stood in the doorway beside Emma, avoiding her daughter's eyes as much as she could.

"Yes, yes I did," Mary-Margaret confirmed as she seemed to find the gumption she had previously lost if the lift of her chin was of any indication. "And I see you've brought dessert! How thoughtful because I completely forgot. Emma, why don't you take the pie to the kitchen while I show our guest where to hang her coat? Henry should be here with Neal any moment."

Emma slowly took the pie that Regina extended toward her in what felt like slow motion, suddenly feeling the need for a strong, stiff drink. She didn't bother looking at her mother who slowly took back control over the situation as she motioned Regina inside leaving her to head for the kitchen where she noticed Hook setting out two drinking glasses filled with ice, scotch in one hand and a whiskey close by on the counter.

"I'm really hoping one of those is for me," Emma said as she set the pie on a rack on top of the oven before moving to lean against the counter beside him.
"Oh, you bet, darling," he said as he poured the dark liquid over the ice, feeling her eyes watching his movements with anticipation. He finally allowed his eyes to meet hers when he finished, handing her one of the glasses before they wordlessly saluted each other with their respected drinks. "I've a feeling if we're going to survive this holiday, we're going to have to get on the same level as your father."

Emma gave a lopsided grin as she lifted the glass to her lips, glancing at David who was smiling like an idiot at the tv as one of the teams scored a touchdown. He seemed so happy and that was all Emma needed to see as she chugged down the rest of her drink.

Same level indeed.

That's what I have for now! Hope it was worth the wait :)

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