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Apr. 11th, 2012 02:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notinthebook'Welcome Home' parties are kind of a drag when the guy they're thrown for disappears halfway through.
She doesn't even notice David's gone until Kathryn comes up and asks if she's seen him -- she had, but it doesn't seem right to tell his concerned wife that the guy had been hiding out from her well-meaning celebration. Just like Mary Margaret said, Kathryn is awfully nice, and she doesn't make a scene or fuss, but she gets a kicked look in her eyes that make Emma feel like a heel just for having a suspicion of where her husband's gone.
Not that she can judge anybody. When it comes to relationships and what's right or wrong to do in them, she lacks a leg to stand on.
Still, she can't help suspecting, and when she drives home after a stilted but polite goodbye from Kathryn, she's anything but surprised to see the tall figure walking away from the apartment. David doesn't have to look up for her to recognize him, but he does, and she does, and so it's another non-surprise to walk through the door, keys jangling in her hand, to find Mary Margaret hard at work apparently trying to scrub the porcelain right off a plate.
"You might want to ease up, or that brillo pad’s going to press charges," she says, not unkindly.
She gets it. And at least Mary Margaret's method of coping is productive.
She doesn't even notice David's gone until Kathryn comes up and asks if she's seen him -- she had, but it doesn't seem right to tell his concerned wife that the guy had been hiding out from her well-meaning celebration. Just like Mary Margaret said, Kathryn is awfully nice, and she doesn't make a scene or fuss, but she gets a kicked look in her eyes that make Emma feel like a heel just for having a suspicion of where her husband's gone.
Not that she can judge anybody. When it comes to relationships and what's right or wrong to do in them, she lacks a leg to stand on.
Still, she can't help suspecting, and when she drives home after a stilted but polite goodbye from Kathryn, she's anything but surprised to see the tall figure walking away from the apartment. David doesn't have to look up for her to recognize him, but he does, and she does, and so it's another non-surprise to walk through the door, keys jangling in her hand, to find Mary Margaret hard at work apparently trying to scrub the porcelain right off a plate.
"You might want to ease up, or that brillo pad’s going to press charges," she says, not unkindly.
She gets it. And at least Mary Margaret's method of coping is productive.
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Date: 2012-04-21 02:10 am (UTC)She tips a little more whiskey into her glass, gives a smile that isn't meant to be as rueful as it is.
"Cure for all ills: mental, physical, or emotional. Or at least it'll help."
It should, anyway. Mary Margaret at least isn't afraid to be alone with herself, isn't worrying what pitfalls her own thoughts have in store for her.
We don't have to do this.
Yes, they did. Just like Mary Margaret has to try and forget the guy she's so crazy about, just like David needs to quit coming around, just like she needs to watch what she does and says so Regina doesn't have any ammunition against her.
Wanting something just isn't enough. Not in this world.
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Date: 2012-04-21 03:04 am (UTC)I'm choosing you.
"I should do that, then," she said, reaching up to run the finger of one hand through part of her hair, against her scalp. She tried to smile a little firmer, for her, lightly teasing. "Stop keeping up the half of our police force that chooses to work mornings."
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Date: 2012-04-22 12:39 am (UTC)Not that there's a great chance of her sleeping all that well tonight, but what the hell. It's not like she can lay any more on Mary Margaret -- she's got plenty to deal with already.
Getting up, she clears the two glasses, screws the top back on the bottle, and waits until Mary Margaret's gotten up to follow her up the narrow metal stairs.
"Good night," she says, her hand on the handle of her door, but she pauses, frowns, looks back at her friend.
"Just...try to relax. Things will work out. It won't seem so bad tomorrow."
Except that's a lie. Maybe not a week, a month, a year from now, but tomorrow...she shakes her head, offers a wry smile.
"See you in the morning."