AU of BEING HAPPY, DAMMIT

[notinthebook]

She's got absolutely no idea what's going on.

Her head is throbbing, her heart is pounding, and she'd just helped Graham break into a grave -- isn't that the kind of thing she'd normally arrest someone for? -- but all she can concentrate on right now is the fact that they're alone in the office and she's just realizing that it's really sort of dark and cozy in here with the lights mainly off, and that his hand is gentle as he cleans up the cut on her forehead, and that she sort of feels like she's never really seen Graham before.

At least, she's never seen him with this accompanying feeling of terrifying happiness.

She's still watching him as he goes to put away the cloth he'd used, and he glances over at her, smiles, slightly, quizzical.  "What?"

She doesn't have a good answer for him.  It's all too complicated to put into words, but it boils down to one thing, one thought that keeps running around through her head, settling in her heart and making it race, making it feel full almost to bursting. 

He picked her.  He picked her.  She'd pushed him away and gotten mad at him and she hadn't come here to be anything other than a friend and a partner, but then he chose her and changed everything.  

When she gets up, she feels like she's moving underwater, but he waits for her, and she can feel her hand going to his shoulder like she's a person in a dream, feels his settle at her waist, and nerves make her smile, make her feel like she's sixteen years old and out in the world for the first time on her own, when she leans up to kiss him.

And it's so sweet, something she never thought she'd ever have for herself, though she doesn't understand the single tear that falls or the way he thanks her, making her smile, a helpless, hopeless, brilliant flash of a smile that cuts through the gloom they're standing in.

"Anytime."

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[notinthebook]

The tie gets slipped out from his collar and left...somewhere, to be found at a later date when the most important thing isn't to get as close as possible.

"Good thing you've got me around then," she points out, between kisses, fingers working at the buttons on his vest until she can push it off his shoulders. There's a pause when she kicks off her boots and adds them to the scattered clothes starting to pile up around them, before she leans up to kiss him again, fingers threading through his hair.

[ahuntsman]

"Yes. I'm incredibly lucky," he agrees, his voice coming out a little breathless.

He shifts so Emma can get his vest off, never pausing in their kisses, before tossing it vaguely by the pile of scattered clothing and footwear.

Warm hands go to Emma's waist, reaching for the hem of her shirt and pulling it upwards.

[notinthebook]

"You've got that all wrong. The luck's all going my way right now."

She lifts her arms to let the tank top skim off over her head, lifts a hand to tug the elastic out of her hair and let it spill in wild curls down her back before turning her attention to his shirt buttons and undoing them as quickly as her faintly trembling fingers will allow.

Look at that handy wall right there; she pushes him up against it, just so they're not standing in the middle of the room anymore.

Also, she's sort of been wanting to do that since he kissed her in the middle of the street.

[ahuntsman]

"Hm - I'd say we're both lucky."

Because he isn't going to take it back. Especially not when she lets her hair tumble from her ponytail like that, blonde curls framing her face, and all Graham can think is God, she's absolutely beautiful.

He lets her back him into the wall, the sharp contrast of the cold plaster and their body heat making him exhale, sharp, against Emma's mouth.

Then he's fiddling with his belt buckle and the zipper of his trousers.

[notinthebook]

The warmth of skin against skin is almost enough to drive her crazy, running her hands over his shoulders and chest and stomach to help him with the buckle and button and zipper, pushes at the fabric at his hips.

So maybe this is where they were always headed. She doesn't know, couldn't say for certain; all she knows is that when she presses kisses along the side of his throat and tastes salt off his skin she can't think of a single more addicting thing than him.

The air in here feels cool, or maybe it's just that she feels like she's burning up. "Graham," she says, half a laugh and half a gasp and all distracted, but she's not sure what she was planning on saying after that, just kisses him deep, eyes closed and heart thundering in her ears.

[ahuntsman]

It takes him one drunk-with-desire moment before he can even respond anyway.

It's a muffled, "Yes?" that issues from his lips before he's exploring other parts of her, skin always touching skin.

His lips are buried in the crook of her neck, placing another row of kisses along her shoulder, over the strap of her bra.

[notinthebook]

She shivers at the feel of warm breath and warm lips against the sensitive skin of her neck, tips her head to give him better access. A little whimper escapes before she swallows hard, gives a breathless laugh.

"This is a terrible tour of your apartment. Where the hell is your bedroom?"

Not that she honestly cares. The way things are going, she'd be just fine with...wherever they are right now. Living room? Kitchen? She's got no idea.

This is crazy. She's crazy. He's crazy. But god, when he looks at her, it's like her brain just short-circuits.

Logic's overrated anyway.

[ahuntsman]

"Bedroom," he repeats, taking a moment to let the word sink in so he can focus past everything that is Emma.

Then with an almost embarrassed chuckle, he continues. "Right. This is a terrible tour of my apartment.

"Not that there's much to see."

He pulls apart from her for just a moment to grin a little, offering her a hand.

"Come on."

[notinthebook]

"If that's not where we're headed then you're sending some seriously mixed signals."

She just can't stop, like she opens her mouth and idiotic stuff falls out of it, but she can't help it when she can barely think straight anymore. Frankly, he's lucky she's making sense at all.

Still, she feels weirdly shy when he pulls away, realizing just how almost naked she actually is. It's a weird feeling, vulnerability.

But she reaches out and takes his hand anyway, her smile flashing uncertainly in the dark.

"Right behind you."

[ahuntsman]

Being that the apartment space is really rather small, it's only a few steps down what would be advertised as a 'hall space' on a real estate advertisement before they reach his bedroom.

He pushes the door open and pulls Emma inside by the hand, aware that they're both almost completely naked but not caring one iota.

He hasn't felt so genuinely happy in such a long time that it's hard to believe this is actually happening.

"I want you, Emma," he tells her, softly. "No mixed signals, I promise."

[notinthebook]

There it is again. Him, choosing her. Wanting her.

She can't help the smile that grows, shy, at hearing that, every nerve in her body sparking into life.

"I'm right here," she promises, stepping close, one hand settling on his chest as she looks up into his face.

He's so handsome it hurts. "All yours. And...I want you, too."

It's not even simply raw desire, but she can't explain it any better than that, so she reaches up to kiss him, instead.

[ahuntsman]

Soon they've fallen into his bed, the last of their clothes left in a pile on the floor. Light from the streetlamps outside filters in through the thin fabric of his window curtains in the otherwise dark bedroom.

Graham calls her name like it's a promise, and in a way he makes it one.

"Emma."

He thinks of what happened earlier this evening: how lost he'd felt, how confused - and how it was Emma who found him. It was Emma who led him out of the darkness, with a kiss, and he couldn't be more grateful.

Moments later, utterly spent and heart beginning to calm, Graham reaches up to take her hand. He laces their fingers together and squeezes gently, then presses a kiss to her knuckles.

[notinthebook]

For a while there's nothing but his arms around her and his mouth against hers and his name coming in a distracted plea between gasps for breath, and then everything's quiet and she's lying here in this bed that smells like him, sheets tangled around them, sweat beginning to cool.

And still, all she can think about is how completely right this all feels, how good, how happy she is.

He's believed in her, and that's so much more than almost anyone's ever given her before.

The kiss to her fingers gets a smile as she shifts, muscles lazy and loose.

"Hey."

Looking at him now, she can't believe he'd been so worried and rambling, earlier: he looks totally peaceful in the faint light from the window.

[ahuntsman]

Graham shifts, turning his head to properly look at Emma, his hand still over hers.

A soft smile appears on his features: it really is relaxed and content, moreso than he's ever really been before.

"Hi."

[notinthebook]

She's never seen him like this before, would bet even Regina hasn't seen him like this before. That's a whole new smile he's got, and it's like he's finally relaxed like she's teased him about so often.

Her, she feels like she's melting into the mattress, just about.

Her free hand lifts to touch his forehead, lightly, but it's cool.

"You look much better."

[ahuntsman]

He closes his eyes in reaction, basking in the hazy, contentment of this moment with Emma.

"I feel much better."

It's true. Regina hasn't seen him like this before; in fact, Graham didn't even know this part of him existed before.

He opens his eyes, smiles again.

"It's thanks to you. Really."

[notinthebook]

Her smile turns disbelieving, but fond.

"You keep saying that, but you did this for yourself. You're the one who made your own decisions tonight." Her fingers lift away gently, only to settle between them on the rumpled sheets.

"But I'm glad you wanted me along for the ride."

She's never had a partner before, never worked as part of a team, but he's turned into that, somehow, from being a boss and a friend to someone she relies on, trusts completely.

[ahuntsman]

"Maybe," he allows, because she is right. He could have denied the truth. He could have decided to continue being Regina's pet if he chose the coward's way out.

He turns to stare up at the ceiling and takes a breath.

"But all of it? It wouldn't have happened without you.

"Emma, you're ... different. You're special."

[notinthebook]

She studies his profile, frowning slightly. "I'm really not."

Okay, different, she might give him. She's definitely still an outsider in this town, still new, still unusual in a lot of ways. But special?

Not really.

And the thought that maybe it really could have something to do with her is more than a little terrifying. It makes falling for him all the more inevitable, really.

"You'd have gotten out on your own. You seemed really unhappy/"

[ahuntsman]

"I was," Graham admits. "I meant it when I told you I don't feel anything when I'm with her."

Not the way he feels with Emma.

"But ... if it was all I knew, if I'd never had anything else - how would I have known to get out?"

[notinthebook]

"You must have had something else once," she prompts, gently.

Though who knows? It's not like she's ever had anything even like a decent relationship.

"I'm sure you would have done something sooner or later. I guess the important thing is you did, though, you know?"

She squeezes his hand gently, smiling a little in the dark.

[ahuntsman]

"You're right."

Graham responds in kind, squeezing back.

"And from now on, there won't be anymore Regina."

Not where he's concerned.

"And no more living through what used to be a hazy fog of ... half-memories."

[notinthebook]

"I like the sound of that."

She's still there, of course, and she still has Henry, but one thing at a time.

"You really couldn't remember things before?"

He'd said, earlier, that he remembers, that he remembers everything, whatever that means, and she's got no clue what's going on in his head, but right now, she's more than willing to listen.

It's not like she doesn't know what it feels like to live a kind of half-life, never really connecting, never really touching or affecting anything around herself.

[ahuntsman]

"No," Graham says.

He frowns in the dark.

"I only remembered what Regina wanted me to remember. It was like ... walking around with selective amnesia, only I wasn't the one controlling what I could and couldn't remember."

He turns his head to look at Emma again.

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's true."

[notinthebook]

"I don't think I understand."

She's not really getting it enough to say whether it's ridiculous or not. "How could anybody else decide what you remember? They're your memories...aren't they?"

That last comes out a little small, a little uncertain. She's not sure what to believe anymore, but he's not rambling or desperate anymore, so maybe he can explain it to her.