Primary episode reference: S1E6—The Shepherd

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Have a good time," Mary Margaret said, watching as Emma eyed the two jackets hanging in the front closet and opted for the blue zippered one.

Emma turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "You're sure you don't want to come with? Kathryn's invited the whole town. Maybe you'll find someone there who you'll hit it off with."

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes. "By now," she groaned, "I think I've already dated all the eligible men in this place. I'm not going to just stand there awkwardly smiling and nodding and hanging out at the refreshments table. You go," she said. "You're the new deputy; you should get to know a few more people here." She winced. "Of course, when I say you should get to know people, I mean that in a purely platonic sense," she continued, smiling nervously as her words seemed to tumble from her lips. "Because, like you told me, you already have someone in your life and I would never suggest that you should try to find someone else while you're here. I mean, when you tell me that I might meet someone, I know that you mean it very differently than I do when I say it to you and…"

Emma smothered a smile. "I know you're not trying to fix me up," she reassured her new friend. "It's okay."

"Well, good," Mary Margaret said, with near-palpable relief. "Have a good time. And Emma?" Her nervous smile was back. "Tell me about Day—about your evening when you get back? I'll probably still be up."

Emma nodded. "Sure."

Henry still hadn't given up his idea of David being Prince Charming and Emma wasn't sure if she was spending her evening talking to him because he was still the person that she knew best here, or if she was just trying to keep him from annoying the other adults.

"We just have to jog his memory," Henry was saying, "by getting him and Ms Blanchard together."

Well at least he wasn't calling her 'Snow White', Emma thought, as she answered him, "Didn't we just try that?"

"And it woke him up," Henry pointed out.

She was about to try to tell him that David Nolan's waking up right then could only have been a coincidence, when a "Hey!" drew both of their attentions to a familiar face. "You're the ones who saved me, right?" David Nolan himself asked.

Rising to her feet, Emma smiled. "Oh," she said, before Henry could mention Mary Margaret again, "yeah. I guess."

"And, uh," David looked more than a little embarrassed, "you're also the only ones I know here."

She could relate. "You can hide with us," she offered, hoping she wasn't making a terrible mistake. At least she'd have something to report to Mary Margaret when she got back. On the other hand, her new friend's attraction for a married man wasn't a great look. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea.

David, however, had already moved closer. "Fantastic," he said, as a server approached with a tray of canapes. David skewered a cocktail weenie with a toothpick and expressed his thanks.

"So," Henry said with a big grin, "you ever use a sword?"

Oh, this was seriously a terrible mistake. And even if David barely paid attention to her son's question, it was only because he'd been hoping to run into Mary Margaret here.

Suddenly, hanging out at the refreshments table was starting to look like a pretty good idea.

She and Neal never hosted gatherings like this. They had few friends in Boston and frequent last-minute travel for indefinite periods didn't lend itself well to such get-togethers. Plus, as soon as someone learned what they did for a living, reactions tended to range from mild unease to veiled—sometimes outright—hostility. Even those rare acquaintances who responded with "Cool!" or "How interesting…" tended to take a step back. They were still friendly, but an invisible wall always seemed to slide down, making them maintain a distance.

Emma had tried introducing herself as a PI, which had gone over better. Except that then, she tended to field calls from neighbors asking if she could 'find out whether their teenager was really studying at the library or if they were out with that delinquent they swore they'd broken up with' or if their spouse was cheating or drinking or… She didn't even know. She'd tried quoting an hourly rate, and gotten surprised or annoyed reactions: "I thought we were friends!" "Surely, you'll give me a discount?" "Don't you have to work some pro bono hours?" "It's just a simple favor; it'll take you, what? An hour or two, tops?"

Over time, she'd learned that disclosing she was currently working as a bail-bondsperson-slash-bounty-hunter was a lot less stressful, even if it was a bit lonelier.

Unfortunately, in a situation like this, Emma felt herself at a disadvantage. She wasn't great with small talk and once she got past greetings and thanking those guests congratulating her on her new job, she really didn't know what else to say. After a moment or two of standing awkwardly, she grabbed a beer from the table, popped the top, and looked for Henry. He was sitting on the corner of the coffee table with a can of his own in hand. Cola, Emma noted with some relief, suspecting that Regina would blame her if Henry were experimenting with anything stronger. She smiled. And then, recognizing another familiar face, murmured a greeting to Dr. Whale.

Just then, Kathryn Nolan hurried toward them. "Have you seen David?" she asked worriedly.

Emma looked toward the spot where she'd last seen him, but he wasn't there. "Um… he…"

"No," Dr. Whale said, sounding a bit concerned.

"Maybe he just needed some air," Emma suggested. "I can go look for him."

"No," Kathryn said with a forced smile. "No, he was telling me that he wasn't really… comfortable… with all these people. I'd hoped something might jog his memory, but if he felt overwhelmed… maybe we should just give him his space."

"Okay," Emma said, trying to hide her relief. She had a suspicion that she knew all too well where to find him. And that Kathryn wouldn't like the answer.

Emma left shortly afterwards. She didn't know anyone here besides Henry, not really. Dr. Whale had been friendly enough, at least, until she'd let him know that she was in a relationship, at which point he'd quickly caught Ruby's eye and gone to chat her up. Archie had been nice enough, but between his complicity with Regina's frame-up job when she'd first decided to stay and his behavior toward Henry, she wasn't that comfortable hanging out with him. True he'd gone into the mine to find her son, but as grateful as she was that he had, Henry probably wouldn't have gone in there in the first place if the shrink hadn't upset him so badly. Archie struck her as a nice guy, and he probably was. She still didn't know if she could trust him not to report anything she might tell him back to Regina. She wasn't his patient. Confidentiality wouldn't apply. It was hard to have a conversation about more than the weather with someone you couldn't trust, and when Marco came over to say hello to the two of them, she waited until both men were conversing before she edged away. Nobody noticed when she slipped out the front door.

As she parked Herbie in front of Mary Margaret's, she suppressed a mental groan. David was leaning against the white picket fence, a dejected look on his face. She had a sudden urge to slide lower in her seat so that he wouldn't see her in the car, but she fought it. She didn't have to worry; he trudged slowly down the street in the direction from which she'd come, still looking defeated.

Emma waited a full ten minutes until she was certain that he wasn't going to double back. Then, bracing herself for, well, whatever she might find when she got back to the loft, she exited the car and made her way up the front walk.

It really was too bad, Emma reflected later that evening, that David was married. He and Mary Margaret seemed to click so well together! But Mary Margaret was doing the right thing by pushing him off, even though it was, evidently, killing her.

She smiled a bit, thinking about the gusto with which Mary Margaret had taken the glass of whiskey Emma had offered. When they'd first met, Emma would have been surprised to know that the school teacher even had a bottle of whiskey on the premises. Granted, it had been opened at some point before this, but its contents had barely been touched. Then again, the face she'd made after downing the first sip had told Emma that whoever had sampled the bottle prior, it probably hadn't been Mary Margaret.

Her smile dimmed a bit, though, when she remembered again the reason she'd offered the drink. Damn, she liked Mary Margaret. She didn't know David well enough to like him yet, but she didn't dislike him. She did think he needed to either stop trying to spend time with Mary Margaret or… tell his wife he needed a… break. Or something. Wasn't he seeing Archie for help with readjusting to life after spending so long in a coma? Maybe there was more he should be discussing. Then again, after the way Archie had been with Henry lately, well, this was a small town, but maybe there was another psychiatrist in it. Or a psychologist. Clergyman? She thought she'd driven past a convent the other day. She wasn't at all religious, but, weren't 'people of the cloth' trained to give counsel? Some of them were, she was willing to bet.

On the other hand, this wasn't any of her business. Mary Margaret and David were two adults who could make up their own minds. And while Mary Margaret had asked Emma's advice, or at least confided in her, David hadn't. And anyway, Emma thought, she'd probably be out of here in a few weeks and never see these people again, so what the point of getting involved?

She didn't want to see Mary Margaret get hurt. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. But everything Emma had ever heard or seen on TV or in the movies told her that when a married man fooled around on the side, somehow the woman got the blame for being the 'homewrecker'. She hoped things might be different here, but somehow, she didn't think it would be.

Still not her business.

Besides, David might do the right thing and try to rebuild his relationship with his wife, especially since Mary Margaret had just turned him down.

Could she still get the Brooklyn Bridge free if she bought that oceanfront property in Arizona?

She turned out her light, just as she heard Mary Margaret's footsteps pad back into the kitchen. A moment later she groaned. Evidently, she'd remembered those dishes in the sink after all and she wasn't going to leave them until morning. If the bed hadn't been so warm and she hadn't been so sleepy—a can of beer and a glass of whiskey could do that to a woman—she might have gone back downstairs. Instead, she told herself that washing dishes was probably therapeutic, sank back into the pillow, and closed her eyes. She didn't know how long it took her to doze off, but she must have at some point, because the next thing she knew, it was half-past six and her alarm clock was ringing.

She listened for the sound of Mary Margaret's mattress creaking, but didn't hear it. After a moment she got up and padded downstairs. To her surprise, the teacher was already sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in front of her. "Hey," Emma said. "Don't tell me you've been up all night?"

Mary Margaret gave her a bleary-eyed half-smile. "Can you get a hangover from half a glass of whiskey?" she asked plaintively.

Emma sighed. "Let me make you some breakfast."

Emma was sitting at her desk—it was starting to sink in that it was actually her desk now—at the sheriff station holding the bear claw that Graham had handed her when Mary Margaret hurried in. "Emma," she said, "can I talk to you for a minute?"

Graham looked at the two women and ambled off murmuring some excuse about patrolling his office. Almost the instant that the wood-and-glass door closed behind him, Mary Margaret exclaimed, "He left his wife. David. He left her. He left Kathryn."

The sugar on the bear claw was making her fingertips sticky, and she really wanted to take a bite; she didn't have anywhere clean on her desk to lay it down. Instead, she looked up at her friend. "Okay," she said "Slow down."

"He did it for me," Mary Margaret said, either not hearing or not taking Emma's advice. "He wants me to be with him. He wants me to meet him tonight."

Emma tried to gauge how she should react. Was that excitement on the school teacher's face, or was it fear? Did she want David to pursue her, or had she, while flattered by his attention, felt safe in the knowledge that things wouldn't go any farther than friendship and maybe a bit of not-so-harmless-but-not-really-so-terrible flirtation? "That's… uh…"

"I mean," Mary Margaret talked over her, "I'm trying so hard to be strong, but he just keeps coming. I mean, how do I stop it? You know, how do I let him down? What would you do?"

Excitement and fear, but there was hope there, too. And since she was asking… Emma took a breath. "I'd go."

"What?"

Emma shrugged. "Well, he left her. It's one thing to say that he wants you, but it's another to actually make a choice, and now, he has. That's all you can ask for."

Mary Margaret's eyes went wide. Then she sobered slightly. "Given her new friendship with Kathryn, I don't think Regina would be happy."

Emma felt the faintest surge of glee rising up, as she smiled. "All the more reason to do it."

"Good lord," Mary Margaret breathed. "Is this really happening?"

"You tell me," Emma said. "In fact, I just got put on the night shift, so let me check with Graham if I can leave now. Heading back with you to take a nap is probably a good idea."

"Oh, uh…" Mary Margaret looked down. "Actually, I have to be back at the school in another twenty minutes; after David stopped by to tell me, I felt like I had to get your advice, and I had a free period." She brightened. "But if you're heading home, it's on the way; I can give you a lift."

Ten hours later, Emma stormed back into the loft after a night shift that had been abruptly cut short when she'd thought she was nabbing a prowler. She hadn't hesitated when she'd seen the figure leaving Regina's window; she'd even had a fleeting thought that maybe the mayor would think of her a bit more favorably. Not that she was looking to find favor with Regina, exactly, but it might mean that she and Henry wouldn't have to be so… sneaky about spending time together.

It hadn't been a prowler.

And Graham hadn't been volunteering at an animal shelter tonight.

She should have quit on the spot, but she'd been so furious that— And just why had she been so furious? It wasn't as though Graham and Regina weren't two consenting adults. They could be in a relationship; it wasn't any of Emma's business. What was the problem?

The problem, she realized, was that when she'd learned that Graham had offered her the job without running it by Regina first, she'd thought he wanted someone on-side who Regina couldn't intimidate. That maybe she wasn't the only person here who thought there was something wrong with the way she seemed to run this place and that Graham had been trying to do something subtle to… what? Wrest control away from Regina? Curb her power? Whatever, but she'd liked Graham. She'd trusted him, even thought he might be an ally. When all the while he was sleeping with… Oh, she just couldn't deal with this tonight!

She slammed the door loud enough to wake up Mary Margaret (and the neighbors across the hall!) if she was sleeping, but silence greeted her. Right. Mary Margaret had gone to the toll bridge to meet David. Emma sighed. Then she dug out the bottle of whiskey and poured herself a shot. As she nursed it, she wondered whether she ought to quit her new job. It wasn't like it was ever going to be long-term. Once Neal was finished up in Alaska and came here, she fully intended to resign within the week. If she had to give two weeks' notice, then she'd work out those weeks and then they'd both head back to Boston and plan their next steps as far was Henry and custody were concerned.

But if she quit, wasn't that just rolling over and letting Regina win?

Win what exactly? Emma might not like the woman, but she was the mayor and Storybrooke was her town, and most of the people here seemed just fine with that. Mary Margaret had told her that Regina had been mayor as long as anybody could remember and she'd run unopposed in elections for ages. (It did still bother Emma that nobody seemed to remember her predecessor. And that Mary Margaret hadn't been able to tell her when the last election had been, or when the next was scheduled. Maybe, though, sleepy little tourist towns were like that. Even if they weren't especially sleepy. And if she was the only tourist passing through that anybody could remember.) She poured herself another shot of whiskey, but instead of drinking it, she set it down on the table and stared ahead, lost in thought.

She wasn't sure if she'd dozed off, but the next thing she knew, the door handle was turning and Mary Margaret—a bleary-eyed, disheveled, and fully miserable Mary Margaret—stumbled in. "Is there any more of that whiskey?" she asked, sounding for all the world like a little girl.

"Uh…" Don't you have a class to teach? Shouldn't you be sober for it? She wasn't Mary Margaret's mother. And this wasn't any of her business. She pushed the bottle across the table.

Mary Margaret started to reach for it. Then she shook her head. "I have to be at school in a couple of hours. And I need to shower. Desperately." Without a backwards glance, she headed for the bathroom.

Emma shook her head. She'd thought she'd had a bad night, but from the way the school teacher was acting, Mary Margaret might just have had a worse one.

By the time Mary Margaret returned, her short hair already starting to air dry in a way that Emma envied, Emma had made up her mind. Graham could give her a desk and bury her in paperwork and she'd grit her teeth and deal with it. He could fire her and, while she might deliver some parting jab about Regina exerting undue influence, she wouldn't formally contest it. What she would not do, under any circumstances, was quit and leave town with her tail between her legs and her taillights blinking past the newly-reinstated 'Leaving Storybrooke' sign. Regina hadn't forced her out yet, and neither would her flunky in cop's clothing.

"So," Mary Margaret asked, trying to put a bright face on it, "how was your evening last night?"

Emma fought the urge to pour herself another shot. "You want me to just say 'fine', or do you really want to hear?"

Mary Margaret sank into the chair across the table from her. "I was actually planning to use that line on you when you asked me," she admitted.

Emma winced. "I take it that things with David didn't go as well as you hoped? He stood you up at the bridge?"

"No," the school teacher drew out the syllable quite a bit longer than was necessary. "It might have been kinder if he had. He's gone back to her. Kathryn."

"What? Why? I-I mean, she's his wife, so I get it, but why?"

Mary Margaret shook her head. "He told me he remembers now, and he loved her once and he feels that the right thing to do is to back, so…"

Emma shook her head sympathetically, but all the while she was thinking. First he's a John Doe. Then after Mary Margaret wakes him up, and they're starting to fall for each other, Regina suddenly discovers he's got a wife. He doesn't remember a thing about his old life… until he decides to meet up with Mary Margaret. Somehow, somewhere between setting up the rendezvous and actually getting there, something happens to jog his memory. Coincidence. Or… Or what? Magic? That's… not possible. She remembered her previous thoughts about mind control and brainwashing. As though that wasn't similarly farfetched. Wait. Real mind control isn't supposed to be a thing. But… conditioning? Like Pavlov's dog, only a little more sophisticated. I… think that could be. Shouldn't it take longer than a couple of hours, though? More to the point, even if could be done faster, who could? Normally, my money would be on Regina. But first, I don't know if she's capable and second, I'm pretty sure she's got an alibi for tonight. Maybe, a new thought occurred to her, Regina's not the evil… mastermind… behind this. Maybe this town is some kind of mind control experiment, and Kathryn's the one to watch! Where was this even coming from? Mind control? Was she even being serious? But if you ruled out magic, then what else made sense here?

"Emma?"

She blinked. "Sorry. I… uh… I guess I zoned out for a minute." If her theory was right, then there was no point confiding in Mary Margaret. Either she wouldn't believe a word, or—for all Emma knew—she'd been brainwashed, or conditioned, to tell whoever was in charge the minute Emma seemed to be figuring things out. Better not to say anything for the time being. "You going to be okay?"

Mary Margaret started to nod. Then she made a face. "I'll get over him."

"But…?"

"I didn't come straight back here after meeting David last night. I went to Granny's."

Come to think of it, if Mary Margaret had only gone to the bridge, she would have been back long before this. "Okay…"

"You remember when you saw me coming back from a bad date right before you moved in? Well, he was there and… he bought me a drink." A pink flush came over her pale complexion. "Actually, he bought me two. I'm not sure if I drank the second one before we… left together."

"Mary Margaret—"

"I don't know what I was thinking!" she moaned. "I mean, I think maybe I was thinking that if David could give Kathryn another chance maybe I could give… But that makes no sense! Nothing makes any sense about anything! Why did he even ask me to meet him if he was just going to go back to—? And why would I think what I did was in any way getting back at him? Or even to him? Or…"

"I don't think it had anything to do with him," Emma said slowly. "Not really. I just think you were hurt and this other guy, whoever he was—"

"Dr. Whale."

"Whale? Seriously? I'm not judging," she added quickly. And she wasn't. But seriously, Whale? "Okay, you were hurt and Whale was… there. Right place right time. Or wrong place wrong time. Depending on how it went."

"Well, he paid this time, at least. So that was my bad night. What was yours?"

Emma heaved a sigh. "You know how Graham told me he volunteers at the animal shelter? Well, unless Regina's running one out of her bedroom, that was… kind of not true."

"Graham. And Regina?" Mary Margaret exclaimed with a surprised laugh.

"I take it you didn't know."

"I don't think anyone did. I-I would've said something if I'd susp—"

"Hey. They're two adults here. And we're two adults. And we're going to deal with this like adults."

"How?"

Emma shook her head, suddenly deflated. "Damned if I know. I'm going put up coffee. Want some?"

"Oh, hell yes."