A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews so far! This is the first time I have written an OUAT fanfiction, and I was slightly nervous as to how I would portray the characters. I want to keep them as similiar to how they are in the show as possible, so I hope I can do that. This chapter is in David's perspective and then Mary Margaret's.. I might alternate between characters to give an insight into what is going on inside that particular character's head, so I hope that doesn't bother anyone.

Not Quite A Fairy-tale

Chapter 2: David Nolan

Storybrooke was a nice enough place, Dvaid Nolan decided that Saturday morning as he walked along the streets of the small town. It was quiet, friendly, and everyone seemed to know eachother and get along. Of course, at the moment he was still the newbie of the town, and hadn't got around to meeting everyone yet; he had been living there a whole month and hadn't met half of the citizens of Storybrooke.

Of course, his presence had become more widely known after he had his accident; he met Dr Whale, who had treated him for his minor head injury, a few of the nurses at the hospital, and then yesterday, he had met young boy Henry and his rather delightful teacher, Miss Blanchard, or otherwise known as Mary Margaret.

He wasn't sure how he could call someone delightful after talking to them for barely a minute, but delightful seemed like the right word.

Mary Margaret was very beautiful, he had noticed, his breath catching the moment he had saw her; he had turned around, expecting to find Henry and Henry alone, but had instead been presented with black-haired, green eyed, Mary Margaret. She wasn't the obvious kind of beautiful, he had decided. But more of a.. simple, sweet kind; the kind of beauty that was unknown to the person who had it, to a person who was unaware that they were beautiful, and that was his favourite kind of beauty. She had been wearing a simple white blouse and green cardigan that was so simple and innocent, and was standing as if she was unsure how to hold her body; she didn't stand tall with confidence, like many girls he had known, but she stood small, if someone could stand that sort of way. It seemed like the only way to describe it.

Then of course, Henry had introduced them and everything began making sense, and he could finally tear his eyes away from her. She had spoke, her voice very soft and elegant, her hand moving onto Henry's shoulder.

Their brief meeting was over within seconds, and he found himself watching as she dissappeared off onto the other side of the hospital lobby, helping a pupil of hers. He then, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, dissappeared and left the hospital.

A passing car made David jump, snapping him out of his thoughts from the day before and bringing him back to the present. He sighed, shaking his head, before continuing on his way to his destination; Granny's.

He had been in Granny's a few times, more often than not on a weekday before he set out to work at the animal shelter. It was a small diner, very cosy and welcoming, and he found out that they did the best hot chocolate he had ever tasted. Not that it was hard, as the hot chocolate he had in New York was often made by himself in his old kitchen.

He reached Granny's, and pushed open the door, hearing the bell jingle above his head. A few people were spread out amongst the tables and booths, and as the door closed, he moved towards the counter.

"Mr No- I mean, David!"

He jumped, hearing his name, as very few people knew who he was. However, straight away he knew who that childish, sweet voice belonged to.

"Hey Henry," he said, turning around, seeing the small boy sitting inside a booth, opposite a young blonde woman.

"Are you okay? How's your head?" Henry asked him curiously. In front of him was a large mug of steaming hot chocolate and a game device that he had been playing on; David wasn't sure which gaming one it was.

"Not bad, not much pain now," he replied honestly.

The blonde woman sitting opposite Henry cleared her throat, giving Henry a pointed look.

Henry's eyes jerked towards her. "Sorry, David this is Emma, my birth-mom," Henry explained. "And Emma, this is David, the guy I told you about, the one who helped me and Miss Blanchard put my banners up."

Emma raised an eyebrow, looking towards David. "You're the guy who bought the last available apartment?"

David chuckled. "Yep, that's me."

Emma rolled her eyes. "God, I hate you already," she muttered.

Before David could ask her what she meant by that, he was next in line to order. He ordered himself a coffee, black, no sugars, and when he was given his own steaming mug, he turned to see that Henry had slid over making room for him, clearly asking him to sit with them. Unable to resist the young boys face, he grinned before sliding in next to him.

"Kid, you really need to get more kid friends, all your friends seem to be.. my age," Emma said, staring at her son, her face half amused and half concerned.

"Adults are easier to talk to," Henry replied, with a shrug, looking towards David. "And they are way more helpful."

"Whatever you say kid," Emma replied, taking a sip of her drink.

The bell above the door sounded, and Henry jumped out of his seet, staring at the door.

"Miss Blanchard's here!" He exclaimed happily.

David's breath caught in his throat. Casually, he turned his head to the door and saw the familiar face of Mary Margaret Blanchard making her way towards the booth, her green eyes and black hair unmissable.

"Hey," she said, as she sat down beside Emma. "Sorry I'm late, I didn't realise the time and.."

Her eyes met his, a look of sudden confusion crossing her pale features.

"David?" She asked, staring at him for a moment, her head tilted to one side.

"Hi," he replied, smiling slightly.

Mary Margaret raised an eyebrow, her eyes trailing off onto Henry, sending him a clear telapathic message,

"I hope you don't mind Miss Blanchard, but I asked David to sit with us," the child said.

"Oh no.. it's fine," she said quietly, her eyes drifting back to David, then down to the table in front of her.

"So," Henry said, after a moment of silence. He folded his arms, and looked at Emma. "Are you gonna ask her?"

Mary Margaret's head shot up again, her eyebrow raised in question. "Ask me what?"

"Kid.." Emma murmured, her voice trailing off, seeming slightly awkward.

"Emma wants to know if the spare room in your apartment is still available," Herny continued, ignoring pointed stares from the blonde woman across from him. "Sleeping in the car seems to be getting rough, even if she won't admit it.

David couldn't help but suddenly realise why Emma had referred to him as 'the guy who bought the last available apartment.' She had been looking for somewhere to live, but he had bought the last one. Part of him felt slightly sorry for her.

"Emma," Mary Margaret said, looking at her, a sympathetic look washing over her face. "Of course it's still available, it wouldn't have gone within a day."

Emma shrugged. "You never know," she said, her eyes drifting up to David. "Things round here seem to go very quickly."

"It's yours," Mary Margaret replied, smiling at her. "Of course it is."

Emma smiled thanks, before standing up and shifting past her. "Let me buy you a hot chocolate to say thank you; want anything kid?"

Henry scrambled out past David, following Emma up to the counter, muttering something about wanting a piece of chocolate cake.

"That was a nice thing to do," he said quietly, staring at Mary Margaret.

She raised her head, her eyes meeting his. She smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "I couldn't let her sleep in a car for all her life, now could I?"

"No," he replied. "But offering someone who you just met a room in your apartment is quite a big step."

Mary Margaret sighed, her fingers drumming on the table. "Henry needs him Mom around, he's been far happier now that she is. Not that Regina isn't an amazing Mom to him, but he just.. has always felt regected by his birth-mom. He's gotten close to her now, and offering her a pernament place to stay would keep her here for him," she told him honestly, staring towards the cue that Emma and Henry were in. "Plus, Emma's nice, and it would forever be on my concience if I didn't atleast offer her a home."

"It was very nice of you," David said softly, his blue eyes staring at her face. He saw a slight blush rise in her cheeks.

"Thank you."

He tore his eyes away from her, leaning back into the booth, and raising his coffee to his lips. For a moment it was quiet, however, it wasn't an awkward silence but a comfortable one. He smiled at her as he placed his mug back down on the table, a smile she immedaitely returned, and he felt a strange feeling surge through his body.

"So, what made you move to Storybrooke?" Mary Margaret asked curiously. "It's just that not many strangers usually come to this small town; the majority of the residents have either lived here since birth or have moved here because family are here."

He shrugged. "Wanted to get away, I suppose."

She titled her head. "Away from what?"

"Life," he admitted sheepishly. "My old life, in general. I just wanted to.. forget it."

"What happened?" She asked quietly, her eyes soft as she stared at him.

He bit his lip. "I kind of don't want to re-live it," he murmured. "Sorry."

His eyes began to feel moist slightly; he took a breath, and blinked, shaking his head, before looking up at her again. Her eyes were locked on him, a small frown across her face, yet she didn't seem angry, just concerned.

"I, erm, ended up deciding to move to Storybrooke because my Mother originally lived here, before she moved away when she got married to my Father. It's the first time I've been here though, but I can already see why she loved it so much. There's a very nice community here."

"We're a family," she said quietly. "Of course, everyone has their friends, their own personal group, but if anyone needed any help, the whole town would support them; I know that from personal experience."

"Nice to know," David said, his head now clear with thoughts of his past. Mary Margaret simply smiled.

For the remainder of the morning, Emma, Henry and Mary Margaret sat with David, talking about various things; one of the biggest topics was Emma and Mary Margaret's new living arangement. As they spoke, David couldn't help but shake off a feeling of comfort, a feeling of being home, of being where he belonged. He watched Henry grin with chocolate cake smeared around his mouth, saw Emma laugh and wipe the sides of her son's mouth, and stared at the black-haired women in front of him. He had never been entirely sure of what it meant to have a sense of belonging, as he had always felt like the outcast. But here, now, after spending one morning with a handful of people he barely knew, he finally had an idea of what it meant.

"That David guy isn't that bad," Emma said, as she lounged across Mary Margaret's couch, a magazine in her hands. They had left Granny's about an hour ago, saying goodbye to David and dropping Henry home. Well, Mary Margaret had dropped Henry home. Regina was still very wary of Emma, her instant dislike definitely not a secret to anyone in the town. Then again, Regina didn't get on with very many people. She was very concealed, very private, the only person that she seemed fully commited to being Henry. In general, Mary Margaret didn't have a problem with Regina; she had known Regina since she was young, as they had both grown up in Storybrooke. They weren't close however, and Regina barely spoke to her, but Mary Margaret accepted that.

After Henry was home, Mary Margaret and Emma headed back to the apartment, which was now officially 'theirs'. It hadn't taken long for Emma to be shown around, and soon she had collapsed onto the couch, and laid there in silence. Well, in silence for a while, until her latest comment, which revolved around David.

"He's.. interesting," Mary Margaret said, leaning against the kitchen counter. She wasn't entirely sure what it was about him, but she felt something when David spoke to her, a strange feeling in her stomach that was hard to place. His blue eyes would lock on hers, holding her gaze, not letting her go, and she was unsure why she felt like that. She certainly hadn't felt anything like that before, not that she was aware of that.

"Interesting? That's the word you pick? You couldn't keep your eyes off of him the whole time," Emma muttered, and Mary Margaret sensed her rolling her eyes.

"I could too keep my eyes off of him," Mary Margaret huffed, folding her arms across her chest. "There's just something about him.. that I can't put my finger on."

"You've only just met him, you're not going to be able to read him like a book straight away," Emma said sighing, closing the magazine and rolling over onto her belly, resting her head on the arm of the couch, so she could see Mary Margaret.

"I know, but usually I can," Mary Margaret replied, frowning. "I can usually sust everyone out within a minute of knowing them, but with him.. it's different. I can't."

Emma raised a single eyebrow. "You usually can? Could you read me?"

"Oh, of course," Mary Margaret replied, brushing it off with a wave of a hand. "Scared of commitment, lifetime of running away from your problems, and you have a pretty large fear of losing."

Emma stared at her. "I'm not scared of commitment-"

"Of course you are."

"-nor have I spent a lifetime running-"

"You have."

"-and I am do not have a pretty large fear of losing."

"Emma," Mary Margaret said, looking at her.

"Fine," Emma replied, a crease forming between her eyebrows. "But how can you do that? You barely even know me, how can you figure out my whole life after knowing me for less than a second?"

"I don't know," Mary Margaret answered honestly. "A talent, I suppose. I just.. I can't read David, I can't figure him out. Yesterday, after I met him at the hospital, I couldn't break through his layers and understand him, but I just assumed it was because I had spoken to him just for a moment, not about anything personal, but today, this morning, I spent more than an hour talking to him, and I couldn't get anything. I got nothing."

Emma pulled herself up, and walked towards her. "Maybe it's because he's careful, maybe he knows how to hide and stop feelings showing. Heck, I'd like a leaf out of his book if that's the case."

"Maybe," Mary Margaret replied, fidling with the buttons of her cardigan. "I think something bad happened to him in the past; something he wants to forget." She could still remember the haunted look in his eyes as he spoke about wanting to leave his life behind. His eyes had gone glossy for a moment, and her heart had raced, terrified tears were going to leak out of his eyes. But they hadn't; he'd blinked, and they were gone.

Emma leaned against the kitchen counter beside her. "Or maybe it's just the fact that you're powers are wearing off."

"Oh no," Mary Margaret said with a laugh. "My powers are still intact. He's just a rather.. advanced case."

"Case, huh? What, is David your project now?"

"No," she answered, rolling her eyes. "He's just a mystery. A pretty good one at that."