CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: A DUMP CALLED HOME
(In which Emma gets her heart back amidst so much Rumple magic-explaining contradictory nonsense that Bullshit Scholars everywhere would crap their pants!)
The driving time from Tallahassee to the middle of the Maine coast was twenty-three hours, not including rest stops and drive-thrus and traffic jams. Emma was a bit disappointed that Neal had decided against another overnight stay which would have meant a bed and a TV, pulling into a rest stop on I-95 the following night to get a few hours instead, but on the other hand when he fell asleep in the backseat and they were taking a back road detour to avoid a five car pileup outside of Boston, Henry had secretly let her drive and it was awesome!
At a gas station in Portland, where they'd had to stop for gas and Apollo Bars, which Neal and Henry apparently consumed like most people drank coffee, Neal had given Emma a keychain with a swan on it, that he said she could use for when she got her own car... and she realized he'd probably actually woken up at some point and knew she'd been driving but didn't say anything, which just reinforced her opinion that he was a really cool guy and Henry was really lucky to have him for a dad and his mom had to have been on drugs and had some brain disease not to dump his douchebag step-grandfather immediately!
"Are we there yet?" Emma piped up from the backseat. It had been like an hour since they saw civilization in the form of a dumpy seafood shack... one she pretended that she didn't recognize from the newspaper in her DCFS file that she was hoping to get a hold of as soon as she was eighteen so she could try to track down her deadbeat parents and give them 'what for'.
"We're five minutes closer than the last time you asked," Neal told her.
"Hey, it's boring! The only thing to spy is trees and sky and the road, the radio's all static, and Henry locked the tapes in the trunk!"
They rounded a corner and a green road sign appeared at the shoulder. Henry interjected, "Good thing we're here then."
"Storybrooke. Seriously?" Emma scoffed and Henry let out a snort.
Main Street was its usual mostly deserted, slightly depressed facade. Emma craned her neck to look out the front window and declared, "This is where you live? What a dump!"
"Yeah, but it grows on you."
"Like what, toenail fungus?"
Henry laughed and Neal had to bite his lip as he parked out front of the pawnshop.
"You need to pawn something?" Emma asked.
"Naw, it's my dad's shop," explained Neal as he cut the engine.
"So... you guys are cool now? Even though he was some kind of war lord and you ran away?"
"You can't out run your past," said Neal, opening the door. "It catches up eventually."
Still limping a bit, Emma followed into the shop where Mr. Gold looked up from behind the counter.
"Ah, good, right on time."
Emma surveyed the pawn shop with a critical eye and the guy who'd either had a kid pretty young or aged pretty well. "You're Neal's dad? I'm Emma."
Mr. Gold smiled. "A pleasure to meet you, Emma," he said, offering a hand.
Instead of taking it, she crossed her arms and glowered. "Neal said he ran away 'cause you picked being a powerful gangster or something over leaving that crap for him. You're lucky he turned out such a nice guy growing up on the streets. My parents dumped me by the side of a freeway as a baby. Not sure I could be so forgiving!"
"Well, we shall see."
Emma blinked. "Huh?"
With that, Rumplestiltskin flung a fist-full of powder at Emma's face.
Before she could react, the blonde teen lost consciousness. Neal rushed to catch her with an annoyed, "A little warning, Pop!"
"That defeats the purpose of surprise."
Henry rolled his eyes and Neal sighed.
"The heart?"
"It's in here," Henry handed over a small insulated cooler, which his grandfather took while Neal carried Emma into the back room and laid her on the cot there.
Of course, the room was already packed since Henry had texted when they crossed the town line. The Charmings rushed to fawn over the unconscious girl, Mary Margaret cooing at how sweet she looked, just like in her vision.
"And in your vision that sweet girl ripped out your heart," Regina griped.
"Can we resolve the latest Charming family fiasco already?" sighed Cora, arms crossed. "I am having flashbacks to the time I was murdered here and uncomfortable heart palpatations like I might actually have to marginally care about these imbicilic do-gooders."
"They're called family, Mother," Regina growled. "Where is that damned fairy? You'd better not have turned her into a snail!"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Cora huffed. "I would turn her into a duck, clip her wings, and poof her over to the local lake! Those mallards are quite aggressive suitors!"
"Mother!" Regina exclaimed, horrified. "You said you were taking Roland to feed the ducks, not... that's disgusting!"
"Oh, please, between the two of us, which one us is an actual rapist? Besides, we are feeding them - dried mushrooms of the variety that dumb chimney sweep girl gave her baby. The boy was asking questions, and I'll be damned if my step grandson is going to learn about fornication from a man who slept with his wife's first murderer under the corpse of his lover's father after impregnating his wife's second murderer who was also his mistresses' sister whom he honestly believed was the nearly dead mother of his child in the next catacomb over - after which he dumped you for his presumed wife, learned she was your sister, still dumped you for his rapist, and so you had to drag his 'honorable' wandering cock back to this podunk town whereupon you were all cursed and he once again chose his rapist over you which resulted in you getting stabbed and nearly bleeding to death. I am still bewildered on exactly why you love that fool."
Regina looked like she wanted to either punch her mother in the face or bang her against a wall. Thankfully, the wallpaper and Cora's face were spared such abuse by the arrival of the Blue Fairy who glared at Cora, declaring, "You are a horrible woman with or without a heart, Cora."
"At least I don't need a magical corset or immortality to make my breasts look fabulous. And I would rather be unapologetically evil than look perpetually as though I have smelled something foul. Perhaps you wouldn't use mortals like chess pieces, dear, if you actually had a functional pus-"
"CORA!" Snow gasped, covering Henry's ears.
"Grandma," Henry groaned, pulling away. "I'm sixteen. And I've had sex with a girl. Not that I liked it and I had to use Grandpa Gold's Viagra, but I know all the parts."
There was some sniggering at the mention of Rumplestiltskin using Viagra, and the shop owner cleared his throat loudly. "Perhaps we should move this along before I accidentally drop an erectile dysfunction potion in the town's well."
"And all the ladies would throw a par-tay!" Ruby exclaimed, gesturing for a high five from Snow who gave her a sour look and Graham just shook his head.
"All you all suck!" Ruby huffed. "No sense of humor! At least Mulan gets me!"
The warrior imparted, "If men were unable to copulate, they would resort to even more senseless violence and murder than usual. I think it best to avoid such a scenario. Especially as I have a full day of classes tomorrow, and if I have to miss them to fend off emasculated men looting and pillaging, I will have to deal with 'soccer moms' and they are far more horrible than any bloodthirsty soldier."
There was a pause as everyone tried to figure out if Mulan was being serious or making a joke during which the Blue Fairy gave an exasperated look at having to be in the presence of mortals and brushed past them to stand over the still-unconscious Emma.
As she began waving her wand, Cora sniggered, "Bippity boppity boo!"
With a warm glow Emma became once more a grown woman, scars, tattoos, and all... though still in Henry's ill-fitted clothes. Her eyelids fluttered open and she looked around, momentarily confused and disoriented before putting everything together. She raised a brow at Neal. "You dunked me in a smelly swamp!?"
"Hey, you ripped out your heart in a land without magic. And it was Belle's idea."
"It was. Sorry," the Librarian admitted. "I didn't think it would actually have enough magic to turn you into a teenager. It was just supposed to keep you alive and magically connected to your heart until you got back here."
"Oh, Emma!" Mary Margaret gasped, trampling her way back through the crowd once again to hug her tightly.
"Owe... ease up, Mom! I think you cracked my rib!"
"Erm, that was my fault," Henry admitted. "Didn't know your heart wouldn't go back in. Thankfully the ER doctor just figured we tried to do CPR."
"Yeah, well, I guess saying 'My mom ripped her heart out and I couldn't put it back in' would have been a bad move," Emma conceded.
"Emma," Snow sighed, her voice admonishing, "why would you rip your heart out in the first place?"
"Everyone in this family has to remove their heart at least once. Preferably multiple times," Regina stated. "I'm sure she was just feeling neglected."
"Regina. This is serious!"
"Oh, don't be so over-dramatic. Not everything means something. Sometimes people just do stupid things. You and your recently unemployed husband should know that more than anyone."
Mary Margaret harumphed and David shifted uncomfortably, while Emma winced a little and told her father, "About the whole firing thing..."
"No, it's okay, Emma," David assured. "You were right. I abused the badge. And I have a gambling problem."
"And he's going to meetings," interjected Snow, who then apologized, "I'm sorry that I didn't believe you, Emma. All I can say is that love can be blinding, even when it's true. Your father and I spent so much of our early years just fighting to be together that... well... maybe we've overlooked some imperfections in each other that we wouldn't have otherwise."
Instead of blurting Gee, yah think? Emma just nodded and assured, "Everyone jumps to conclusions sometimes. And I can't really judge about addictions."
"Maybe we can carpool to meetings sometimes," suggested David. "It's not exactly the father-daughter bonding setting I was going for, but..."
"I'd like that," Emma told him, and she meant it. The co-sheriff-ing stuff was a pain in the ass, but she had appreciated the moments they'd shared, commiserating over real life issues and how life could suck, talking with the father who existed underneath the trappings and insecurities of assumed royalty.
"So..." Leroy butted in. "Are we gonna stand around here all night? Cause it's Meatloaf Monday. Gotta get those end pieces. They go quick!"
David threw him a slightly annoyed look, but Regina agreed, "As unappetizing as that sounds, we're violating fire code. And I'm sure they would like some privacy for whatever heart-related mushiness," she made a disgusted face, "is about to transpire."
She then waved her hand, purple-poofing Emma into the clothes she'd departed Storybrooke wearing and uttered a curt, "You're welcome again" before heading for the door after Emma's parents and ahead of the bickering Dwarfs.
"I really don't know why we can't do Meatless Monday at least once a month," complained Happy.
"Nobody wants to eat your rabbit food," Leroy growled.
"Anton likes it!"
"Wait," Walter piped up. "Anton came back with the last curse? How did I miss that?"
"Because you sleep more than Dopey's pet ferret!"
As the curtain shut, Henry walked over from his grandfather's side to the cot and gave his mother a guilty look. "I know things have been rough lately, and I'm sorry if I made it worse, Mom. I'm sorry if I've made you feel like you have to be responsible for everyone's happiness. Maybe I did when I was ten, but I don't care if you're The Savior or have magic. None of that is what makes you special. It's your heart. You and Dad, I got mine from you guys. That's what makes us a family. Love."
Emma was a bit teary-eyed. "What happened to my cynical teenage son?"
Henry shrugged and responded, "Well, you did puke up some swamp water on me. I might have emotionally regressed to my wide-eyed optimist prepubescent worldview. I'm sure it will wear off by tomorrow," he said before giving her a quick hug. "It's good to have you back to your older self, Mom."
"Yeah," Emma agreed, sorting through her weird new teenage memories. "I... um... sorry about the... with the... definitely gross, weird and complicated!"
"Erm... forget it. Please forget it."
"Definitely," Emma nodded.
"Right... well... I'll just go try and keep everyone from killing each other," Henry offered.
A soon as he'd gone, Emma turned her attention to Gold, demanding, "Okay, give it to me straight. I know you've seen it. I know you already had some idea after what you said the last time I was in here. Henry might believe my heart is special and that... whatever the hell it is, is just some affect of being outside of Storybrooke, but I know it's not."
"Well, it certainly isn't an ordinary heart condition," said Mr. Gold, setting the cooler on the bed and opening it to reveal the crystalline organ. Just as when Emma had removed it from her chest, it glowed more than just the usual red, the luminous magic swirling inwards around the dark center, tiny wisps of it vanishing into the blackness.
Emma looked uncomfortably between Neal and her heart before looking at Gold, "Does everyone... do they know it's not a Land Without Magic thing? I mean, I assume you all did some research..."
"Research is not something your family excels at," he replied. "They are under the impression that being absolved of the Dark One's thrall did not fully cleanse your heart, because your special Savior-ness which unbalanced your magic resulted in your heart and magic attempting to find equilibrium by absorbing the dark magical ripples of their selfish behavior, and so, should they aspire to stop being bickering sycophants who lie and cheat and steal and play the victim of their own crimes, then your heart should have a chance to heal itself. Which, of course, is complete and utter bullshit."
"That's what you told them? And they believed it? Even Regina?"
"Of course not. She would have called my bluff quite easily. But coming from Belle... well... they may ostracize her for believing in the supremacy of knowledge over magic, but they always believe her. Occasionally, the hypocrisy that runs in your family works in your favor."
"Great," Emma grumbled. "So now they blame themselves, when it's really my fault. I put that darkness there, potential or not. And no amount of true love's kisses or magical heart surgeries can cure it. Just... tell me what it means. Am I... am I dying?"
"Over-dramatic like your family as well," he scoffed. "No. You're just losing your magic."
Neal's brows raised and Emma startled. "I... what? But you said...?"
"I was angry. I... apologize," Rumple sighed, grimacing through the admission.
"But, the darkness-"
"The absence of light doesn't necessarily mean its nonexistence."
"No riddles, Pop," Neal cautioned and the older man nearly rolled his eyes.
"Emma was perfectly ordinary until her parents made that deal, until Merlin's Apprentice cast that spell. Children are born of true love all the time and they don't have special powers. But because of that spell, her heart was made different, a... miniature magic sun, you could say, fueled by its own heat. She literally has magic in and from her heart, which is a very different breed."
To Emma he continued, "That kind of magic cannot be sustained forever, particularly since the spell itself was canceled out. What you see, is just the inevitable process of that unique magic you were never supposed to have being funneled away, back to whence it came. You might have accelerated the process with your foolish self-sacrificing on several occasions, and but I would wager that when the Dark One was purged from you, your heart purified, and the good and evil of you and your draconian counterpart restored, the process of your un-Savior-ing began.
"Regardless, sooner or later, like all stars, that magic will burn out. And when it does, you'll just be ordinary. Whether you burn it off in some big magical battle tomorrow or it gradually seeps away with time, one day you'll wake up and you won't feel its presence. And while that is something I myself feared, I suspect you will handle it quite differently."
With that said, Mr. Gold left them alone, Emma frowning a little. He was right, she didn't fear it. It was... it was like light at the end of the tunnel, the prospect of a day when she wouldn't be The Savior anymore!
"Are you okay?" Neal asked and she nodded.
"Yeah, yeah. I get to be normal one day. Maybe tomorrow, maybe when I'm ninety, but... I'll finally get to be... just Emma."
"You'll always be 'just Emma' to me, you know, magic or no magic, princess or car thief."
Blushing, Emma considered, "I think only you and Henry see it that way. Everyone else is obsessed with labels."
She shook her head, then wondered, "How did we make such a good kid anyway, when we're so screwed up? And Regina's about ten times worse at least!"
"Well, random genetic mutations do happen," joked Neal.
Emma snorted lightly, as it was probably true. Her parents had messed her up big time, both with abandonment and certain traits that were more of a hindrance than a help. She wasn't going to make any more of those mistakes with Henry, though - and she sure as shit wasn't going to pile any Enchanted Forest fairy tale bullshit expectations on the kid either.
"I'm sorry about... I didn't know I'd nearly die and put you and Henry through that," winced Emma. "What I said-"
"You don't have to explain," Neal interrupted. "You thought you had some magical heart disease from a bad magical diet of living on the Dark Side."
"I do, though," Emma stated emphatically. "I should have told you. I just... the way you feel about magic, I was... I was scared how you would react."
Neal smiled tightly, remembering their exchange in the pawn shop when he found out. "Emma, I never meant to make you think I hated you having magic. Or that I judged you because of it. I should have told you that. Seems we left a lot off unsaid during all of that talking over coffee."
Emma let out a sigh. "Like how I became someone I don't like because of all of this crap that I didn't have time to reconcile, to figure out how I fit in, so I just... internalized it all without dealing with it and did what people expected. I don't want to disappointed anyone, because as The Savior it's my job to get everyone their happy endings. But how I am supposed to decide who's more deserving? It's a lot of pressure, and I made bad choices, but I'm trying to do the right thing now. And this, us, is the right thing, Neal," she told him, reaching for his hand. "It always was. I just... I want to be deserving of it, and some days I don't feel like I am, because of what I became. And because I hurt you."
Neal smiled sadly and gave her hand a squeeze. "I get that, Emma, I really do. I never wanted to become your worst memory."
"You're not," she told him, shaking her head. "You never were. You were never a bad memory, Neal. And I was never consciously trying to punish you for any of it. I replay it over and over in my head, and I wish I could take it back. I wish I could take back kissing Hook in Neverland and everything that came after. All I can say is that I was afraid of falling in love with you again and getting hurt and he was just... there and then you weren't and I had no one else to vent to, who would take my side and provide a distraction when my relationship with my parents went to shit and my life was just... unraveling.
"But that passion was just an addictive distraction with a side of rum, magic, and whatever else I could numb the pain with and use to bury all of that pain and guilt." Frowning, Emma explained, "Killian and I, what we had, it like a drug. He was like a drug addict getting his life together, telling me the only reason he got clean, the only reason he had to stay clean, to stop doing 'dark' things, was my loving him. It was manipulative and dangerous. It was guilt-tripping codependent emotional blackmail. And I fell for it and let him pull me down to his level. Because of the passion. Because of the shame. Because I wasn't a hero. Because every evil they said I defeated... I didn't."
"Maybe not directly," Neal argued, "but you finished what my father couldn't, because you believed in your family to fight - when he didn't. And, okay, maybe they did it for some idealized, unrealistic version of you imbued by some bullshit spell done before you were even born, but either way, it got done. You played a part in destroying something horrible. Maybe it was just as a vessel 'til they could find Merlin, and maybe the true love's kiss thing was just a lie he pulled out of his dragon-scale-covered ass to distract everyone from the nonsensical clusterfuck he created by deciding it was a good idea to sacrifice a line of innocent souls to contain his adolescent fuck up at demon summoning and let illiterate hacks record history with a magic realm-jumping pen that could take people into entire universes it created and unwrite entire existences like they never happened. But thanks to Henry and you, that's over. That cycle is broken."
After a pause, he amended, "But I'm not saying you have to see it that way. You just have to see that Henry's right. You have a good heart with or without special magic."
Emma smiled tearfully. "And you don't have to be Don Juan, Neal. I don't want that screwed-up passion masquerading as romance. I want real love. I want... just right."
Neal's brows furrowed, his lips tugging a little toward a smirk. "So, now you're saying that you're Goldielocks and I'm a bowl of soup?"
"I was thinking more the comfortable bed," Emma retorted with a smirk of her own and he laughed. "We've both got a lot of baggage, I get that. I have... stuff that I haven't dealt with that I've just let fester. And you... because of that, I hurt you, and I know that's not fair and it's left us in a... a really weird place. I mean, I slept with a guy who turned into an ape with wings and now fixes furniture down the street with the father of the guy who ditched me as a baby and sent me to jail and I still called him the closest thing I had to a friend to keep my boyfriend who'd recently tried to kill my entire family from being jealous, because that is how fucked up my life has been, that every friend and lover I've had has either screwed me over or screwed me up somehow so my only choices are to ignore that shit or be alone. I should have addressed that stuff with everyone by sitting down and talking, but I'm not good at this, stuff. I'm only just trying to sort through it with Archie and break the habit of letting all kinds of shit slide, because my whole life I've had people telling me I'm not worth it, that assholes are as good as I can get.
"I know that I've clung to people who have a connection to my past, just to have a past when I grew up without one," Emma concluded, "even if having them in my life has been... toxic to my future."
"How do you know I'm not toxic?" Neal questioned.
"Because you've only ever looked out for me," Emma insisted, "even if you made the wrong choices to do it and other people took advantage. You screwed up, and when you saw the result of that, you tried everything to apologize."
She pulled the swan keychain from her pocket - still there in spite of her wardrobe change - fingering the pendant on the new keyring Neal had obviously bought at that gas station. "I stopped wearing this because it felt wrong finding Tallahassee with someone else. Which was stupid, because there's no Tallahassee without you, Neal. I love you," Emma blurted out, and somehow after being afraid to say the words for so long it wasn't so bad at all, saying them, and it felt right, actually, particularly with the way Neal smiled. "I want to be with you. And I just... I'm so sorry."
"I know."
"I just felt so undeserving of all the sacrifices you made. I was so horrible to you. How come you wanted me to be happy when I just made you so unhappy?"
Shrugging, Neal told her honestly, "I love you, Emma. And it's mine, that love. I owned it. Even you didn't have the right to take it away. I can love whoever I want."
"But I told you that I wished you were dead. And I called you awful things."
"That was your business, not mine. You are what you love, not what loves you. That's what I decided a long time ago."
Sniffing, Emma accused, "Hey, are you just ripping off Adaptation?"
"Really, you're gonna accuse me of plagiarism now?" he shot back with a smile, then told her, "Maybe I chose not to love you. After you chose not to love me. Or I thought that I could, just so it wouldn't hurt. But that was stupid. And I'm sorry that I've been a jerk, Emma. We've both made mistakes and hurt each other, and instead of working through it together like you were trying to do, I just kept... pouring salt in old wounds. I guess we both have nasty habits that we're gonna have to work on. And I'm ready to do that. I love you, and I want this to work. I want us to finally get our stories on the same page."
"So do I," Emma agreed, leaning in a little, searching his eyes and unconsciously licking her lips.
They'd kissed before, of course, long ago - though she'd come to realize in the passing weeks that they'd never kissed that night things went to shit, not until the all-too-brief and chaste kiss before Neal had left her standing there sans underwear. Oh, there had been pecks on the cheek, the corner of the mouth, even an occasional affectionate nose rub, but they'd gone from near zero to Indy 500 qualifications that night, pulling off clothes like horny teenagers. It was no wonder Neal had worried she was jumping into bed just to get it over with, without dealing with any of their issues first, including the weeks worrying that it wouldn't be what she remembered, that he or she or they had changed and would no longer fit together in that familiar way.
She'd been tired of worrying. And she'd gone about it all wrong. A sort of 'just get it over with before you psyche yourself out, damn it' sort of thing.
This time, though, Emma leaned in slow, and Neal tipped his head, meeting her half way. It was a first kiss all over again... and a last kiss too, soft and sweet, so much like that kiss outside the train station that Emma felt her throat close a little and her eyes dampen with tears as she remembered her whispered dream of "home" that was shattered so soon after. She'd held that anger in her heart for so long, and now it felt like such a waste.
When they parted to breath, smiling up into warm brown eyes, Emma admitted, "I was starting to think I'd never kiss you again."
"Yeah, never thought you would either," Neal replied, smiling back, leaning his forehead against hers.
They stayed that way for a few moments, then Emma glanced toward the open cooler and prompted, "Well? Are you going to put that back in or not?"
Pulling back a bit, Neal reached into the cooler and pulled out the heart. It was kind of mesmerizing and also a bit freaky that he was holding Emma's heart his hand. Or the magical reproduction that contained her life-force and capacity for empathy, anyway, what with the whole metaphysical particulars of it all in a world that wasn't supposed to have magic and where it behaved arbitrarily differently and thus left the physiological bit open to some debate shy of Dr. Whale performing open heart surgery.
Neal bit his lip, not really sure how best to go about it, particularly given Henry's failed attempt, and Emma smirkingly remarked, "You always did hold my heart in your hands, but I'm more partial to the metaphorical sense, so unless you're gonna do it now-"
"Okay, okay."
He tried to be a bit gentle just in case. He met no resistance here, however, and the heart sunk easily back into place.
Emma smiled and took his hand again. "Thank you. For putting up with me and my crazy issues."
"You were a bit of a snotty fifteen-year-old," Neal chuckled.
"I was not 'snotty'."
"You gave Henry a purple nurple," Neal reminded to which Emma groaned at the memory. "And, you know, the kissing him thing. Never thought I'd be in competition with my own kid for your romantic affection. Considering he was your fake twin brother, I guess you kind of are 'Princess Leia' after all."
"Shut up!" Emma huffed, blushing. "We are never mentioning that again, okay?"
"Okay.
"He's totally going to milk that for all it's worth, though, isn't he?"
"I have seen him eyeing that Chevelle. And you gotta admit, giving him another car you stole..."
"Hey, it was previously stolen," Emma defended. It turned out that Lily's night job was at an illegal chop shop that resold stolen classic cars. "Wait," she realized how that sounded and they both laughed.
"Hey, at least we don't have to worry about him getting a girl pregnant in the backseat," Neal told her.
"Yeah, but considering we live in a crazy magical town where Cinderella accidentally turned her daughter into her son and my childhood friend was born out of a dragon egg, and who the hell knows how Dwarfs and fairies are created, I wouldn't consider male pregnancy entirely out of the realm of possibility."
"Hmmm, good point," grimaced Neal, then he quipped, "Maybe we should give him a rusty axle vasectomy."
Emma flushed. "I'm sorry about that. I really thought you were a pervert."
"S'okay, no permanent damage."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah, pretty sure."
Emma bit her lip, then decided to be bold. "But maybe you should get a second opinion?" she proposed, brow lifting and her other hand creeping toward the fly of his jeans. "Like, I should check, just in case you missed something and need immediate medical attention?"
"Um... yeah... I guess that might be... ah..." Neal choked, wondering how the hell she unbuttoned his fly that fast. Definitely magic. "You... ah... didn't your dad sleeping curse chill on this bed? And Henry. And I think Belle and my dad might have-"
"Okay, now you're just intentionally trying to ruin the mood!"
"If I was trying to ruin the mood, I'd have said 'how about that time you took a dump on my scarf'?"
Emma threw him an annoyed look. "I was a swan, Neal! I didn't do it on purpose. It was an involuntary avian reflex. And I didn't tell you to put your scarf on the passenger seat!"
She huffed. "Do you want this to happen or not? I know we have intimacy issues-"
"I do want this. I do want you. I just want you to be sure about this," Neal explained, taking her hands in his. "Because this is it for me. You're all that I want, and I want you to be okay with that. Really okay with it, if we're going to do this."
Smiling a bit wryly, he amended, "I want to respect your personhood and boundaries and not disempower you with any patriarchal microaggressions."
Rolling her eyes a little, Emma stated, "I swear to God, Neal, if you don't get your pants off before the next magical fiasco, it could be years before we-"
Deciding that Emma had a good point, Neal kissed her again.
...
Belle was waiting on the bench out front of Granny's as Rumple crossed the street, somewhat loathe to join the others without him.
"Are Emma and Neal coming?"
"Sometime before the half hour I suspect and hopefully several times for Miss Swan if my son knows what's good for him."
Belle choked on a laugh. "Rumplestiltskin!"
"What? Those two have wanted to shag since the moment they ran into each other in New York. The dimwit murderess and the pirate mascot were just the manifestation of their fears of rejection and abandonment with a fair amount of guilt."
"Well, it's good to see your sessions with Archie have been productive," smirked Belle. "Even if you're still a manipulative bastard."
"Says the woman who used a simple magical accident to guilt-trip an entire family into being nicer."
"Okay, fine," Belle conceded. "But these people could bring out the manipulative bitch in Mother Theresa."
"Hmm, probably true," Rumple agreed. "And I suppose we're invited to this family gathering as part of their new effort to be more selfless and inclusive. Was this really just a ploy to get free hamburgers?"
"I do really like hamburgers," Belle laughed, and as they walked, the street lamps on Main Street began to flicker.
She shook her head, "I just hope Emma's lost enough magic that she doesn't black out the town. Rebooting the computers in the Library is a pain in the butt!"
AN: Wait a minute, if it takes almost a full day to drive from Tallahassee to Maine, and they left around ten in the morning, how in the hell did they get to Storybrooke at night!? It's just one of those nonsensical Once Upon A Time temporal paradoxes! Cora, only you would teach a child about sex by gender-swapping water fowl during breeding season! (Seriously, if you didn't know, male ducks gang-rape the shit out of the females.) Neal is ripping off Donald Kaufman, talking to his twin brother Charlie about a high school crush who made fun of him behind his back in Adaptation. "I told her, I wanted to respect her personhood and boundaries and not disempower her with any patriarchal microaggressions." is from a Real Time with Bill Maher faux romance novel for liberals: "Be Still My Bleeding Heart" which you can find on the Real Time blog.
Next up: Granny's.