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]

She watches him for a long moment, studying his face. She knows Graham pretty well, about as well as you could hope to know someone you met and started working with only a few weeks before, and she's never seen him indulge in even the slightest flight of fancy. There didn't seem to be a whimsical bone in the man's body, not counting his fondness for quips and teasing her, but all of a sudden he's telling her the curse is real?

It doesn't make sense.

"It sounds insane because it is insane," she says. She's not trying to argue, if anything, she's looking for clarification, the one explanation that will make all of this make sense.

Her free hand settles on his chest, rests there. Her eyes are full of uncertainty.

He's not lying, and she's not leaving.

"I mean, I can understand it in a metaphorical sense, but...you honestly want me to believe that you're a character from a fairy tale?"

[ahuntsman]

Graham places a hand over hers, drawing strength and reassurance from her touch when she could very easily just grab her things and go.

(It's because of her that he remembers.

Henry was right about that, too.

She's the Saviour.)

He is quiet for a moment, thoughtful. He isn't sure there's a good way to explain it, or if there's a way at all that won't end up with her suggesting he book a few sessions with Dr Hopper after this.

He's never been more sure of anything until tonight. Of Emma, and his identity.

This is who he is.

"If you could," he says, "just for one minute. For sixty seconds, just ... believe that I could be."

[notinthebook]

His hand is warm and steady and his eyes are clear and level and his voice is soft but certain in the dark. He sounds a whole lot more certain than she does, and she knows that's probably just because he's started believing in Henry's delusion, but...she knows Graham.

He's not delusional.

"It's kind of a lot to ask," she admits, a wondering whisper in the dim room.

For him, though...for him and for Henry, she wants, for a wild second, nothing more than to try. It's crazy, but this whole thing is crazy. "Who are you supposed to be? Did Henry tell you?"

[ahuntsman]

There's a nod in the dark and a small exhale of ... something like relief, perhaps.

"Henry told me everything I needed to know," Graham says. "You know the story of Snow White, I assume?

"How the Evil Queen hired a Huntsman to kill her and bring back her heart?

"Only, when the time came, he just couldn't do it. Snow White proved to him that she had a pure heart and that goodness must be spared.

"That Huntsman? That's ... me."

[notinthebook]

"I know that he thinks Mary Margaret is Snow White," she says, carefully. "But I can't say the story in his book is exactly like the one I remember."

For example, Snow White and Prince Charming having a kid.

And that kid being her.

She listens, and though her frown doesn't go away, she doesn't pull her hand back, either.

She can feel his heart beating against her palm, and it calms her like nothing else she knows can.

"So...you saved Snow White. And got...imprisoned because of it?"

[ahuntsman]

"No, the stories aren't exactly the same," Graham agrees. "But if they were, it wouldn't be life, would it? 'Happily Ever After's' aren't exactly easy to come by, no matter what world we're in."

He tightens his hold over her hand ever-so-slightly, so he could remind her of the pulse of his heart, and remind himself as well.

"Regina wasn't very happy that I'd betrayed her. You've seen what she's like without magic. Imagine her with some.

"She took my heart, Emma. She ripped it out of my chest and put it in a box."

[notinthebook]

"I thought that was the point of stories," she says, soft. "To have happy endings, because they sure don't come along in life all that often."

Or ever, in her experience, but though she's not quite sure what to make of this conversation, she doesn't really want to totally derail it.

Not right now, at least.

"So when you were looking for your heart..."

He's been so frantic, looked so lost. All she'd wanted was to help him find whatever it was he'd been looking for.

Nothing's changed since then.

"You think it's here, somewhere? How could she still have it here if she brought everybody from some enchanted fairy tale land?"

[ahuntsman]

"I don't know," Graham admits. "I don't know how magic works, and I certainly don't know how Regina's magic works.

"Or the Curse."

He exhales.

"All I know is that I've got all of my memories back, and I can feel again ... and I don't know if that means the curse doesn't work on me anymore, or what."

[notinthebook]

She's quiet for a long moment, her thoughts stuttering and starting and getting sidelined again.

It's a lot to believe, even for Graham, even when she knows it's too late to do anything but recognize the fact that somewhere tonight, she fell for him and there's no going back to denying it.

Which doesn't necessarily preclude the possibility of him being nuts.

"So do you...feel like a different person, now, or something? You're back to being the Huntsman?"

[ahuntsman]

"I'm still me, Emma," Graham assures her.

He lifts her hand up to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to her palm. But there's a serious intensity to his gaze.

She needs to trust him. He needs her to believe him, for the Curse and her role to play, sure, but for him as well.

(Because, like Emma, he's fallen for her too - and the thought of losing her because of all this is a little too much to bear.)

"I've always just been me, only now ... I know everything that happened and not just the memories I have here in Storybrooke."

[notinthebook]

She smiles, slightly, at the assurance, and again at the kiss. His breath is warm and the ever-present scruff tickles her palm, but she lets her fingertips trace a gentle line over his jaw before he lifts her hand away. "That's good to know."

It's him she cares about, after all, whoever he thinks he is, whether he's remembering some other life that she's not sure she completely believes in or if he's just confused or if he's the same charming, friendly sheriff she'd first met when she got here.

She shifts, settling her head against the pillow a little more comfortably, eyes meeting his, and she's uncertain, but she's trying. She wants to understand.

"Look, I don't know what to believe. Snow White? Fairy tales and evil queens? It's kind of a lot to accept, and if I believe you, then...I have to believe what Henry says about me, too, and I just don't know if I can handle that. I will say that there are a lot of...weird things about this town. Things I can't explain."

She searches his face. "And I know you're not lying. I do believe that."

[ahuntsman]

"Okay."

Graham nods, closes his eyes for a second, then opens them again.

It is a lot to accept; he agrees. After everything he knows about Storybrooke, about how magic-less this realm really is ... how can he expect her to readily accept everything he's told her without at least giving it some time?

Before he kissed Emma, before he saw those visions and that wolf approached him, would he have believed Henry if he told him he was the Huntsman?

"You gave me sixty seconds, right? That's what I asked for."

[notinthebook]

That gets another press of a smile.

"You're being pretty reasonable for someone who just got back a bunch of their memories," she points out. It's almost like the way she's always teased him, and that's as comforting as his warm weight in the bed right next to her.

"That wasn't so bad. Maybe we can build it up gradually. Try a minute and a half next time."

Getting rewarded with his kisses or smiles or more time together seems like a pretty good deal to her.

[ahuntsman]

"A minute and a half sounds good," Graham says with a little bit of a laugh.

He can go with that.

He shifts again so he's lying closer to Emma, close enough to gather her in his arms and simply hold her, to ground him to everything happening right now.

She knows about him. She might not believe it yet, but she knows. And that's an important first step.

"Thank you for listening."

Thank you, he thinks, for everything.

[notinthebook]

It feels weirdly perfect, the way his arms go around her and her leg slips between his until they fit together like a lock and a key. Her arm goes over his waist, dozy fingers tracing along the dip of his spine in thoughtless touch, just to feel him there.

"Thanks for talking."

Maybe things will look different in the light of day, but right now, sleepy and lazy and with this haze of contentment drawing over her like a warm blanket, the last thing she wants to do is argue. "For now, I'm just gonna rest my eyes a little."

The way they keep drooping, she's not going to be awake much longer, and she should probably go, right, he'd probably rather she went back home, but he's so warm and she's so comfortable that the last thing she wants to do is move.

[ahuntsman]

Graham presses a kiss to her brow before making a sleepy sound of agreement - but he doesn't let her go.

"Mm."

That does sound good. And he'd said all he needed to for tonight. He isn't going to force her, and he has a lot of thinking to do for himself anyway.

(He's the Huntsman.

He's not from here - not originally anyway.

And Regina ... what else has she been doing? What else has she been hiding all this time?)

Of course, all he ends up thinking about is Emma, and it lulls him into a perfect, peaceful sleep.

[notinthebook]

She keeps telling herself she's just going to stay for a few more minutes, and then she'll get up and leave, but his arms stay around her and he's really comfortable and she's really sleepy and eventually she blinks her eyes open to realize that it's sometime in the small hours of the morning.

The room is dark and quiet, and he's asleep next to her, all the worries of the day smoothed away now. Getting up would probably only wake him up, and she feels a little like none of her muscles are quite working right anyway, so she just settles a little deeper into the bed, tugs a blanket over them both, and closes her eyes with a long sigh.

Tomorrow she'll have to face the fact that this is never something she's good at, but right now, just for this moment, she can pretend, right?

It's too good to leave, and soon she's back asleep, unable to worry about anything at all.

[ahuntsman]

It's the morning now, and a gentle stream of sunlight replaces the illumination from the lamps outside, filtering in through the curtains.

Graham begins to stir, shifting his position, his muscles feeling a little sluggish with sleep and a very satisfying sort of soreness.

He takes a breath and slowly opens his eyes.

Emma is still asleep beside him, her perfect face clear of stress; and the walls she usually keeps close to her chest to protect herself from harm seem to be gone.

He watches her for a moment and allows himself to imagine what could happen beyond this point, something that resembles a future.

It is only out of necessity that Graham carefully disentangles himself from her - so not to disturb her sleep - presses the barest of kisses to her hair, and heads to the bathroom.

[notinthebook]

It takes a second for her to figure out where she is when she opens her eyes, but the sheets smell like Graham's cologne and once she's awake, everything comes flooding back into her head, everything that happened last night.

Turning her head in sudden fear, she reaches for the sheets, only to realize she's alone in the bed. It's a thought that's accompanied by a familiar sinking feeling in her chest, and she sits up, lips pressing together as she considers her next move.

Of course he'd be gone. Graham's...amazing, funny and handsome and kind and smart, smart enough to not get involved too deeply with her. Last night had been rough on him, she can't blame the guy for just surfing along on the complicated mix of emotions brought on by breaking up with Regina and regaining his sense of self.

She should follow his example and get out of here, before she's late to work.

Boy, won't that be fun.

She's half out of bed, searching for any of her clothes that might have ended up in here instead of outside, when she hears water running and footsteps and realizes with a flush of embarrassment just how wrong she'd been.

She still looks kind of abashed by the time he comes back. "Uh, hey," she says, hoping he doesn't notice that she was about to make a break for it.

Whoops.

[ahuntsman]

Graham has a towel wrapped around his waist, and a smaller one in-hand, his hair still wet.

Eyes go from her to the few garments that had somehow ended up in here instead of outside by the door, and then he realizes what could have just happened.

He isn't Sheriff of Storybrooke for nothing, after all.

Mouth pressed into a thin, vaguely amused line, he says, "Good morning.

"Were you planning to go somewhere?"

[notinthebook]

"No," she says, unconvincingly, aiming for innocent and landing somewhere around 'dubious believability.' A little flustered, she tucks the sheet a little more securely around herself.

"I mean, I thought, um...you got up already."

And left, but that's pretty clearly not true, considering the wet hair and towel.

[ahuntsman]

Graham smiles.

If there's a little sparkle of amusement in his eyes, well, you can just ignore that.

"I thought I'd let you sleep in a bit," he says easily, running the towel through his hair as he speaks.

"And you looked so peaceful, it really wasn't right to wake you."

[notinthebook]

She will, thanks. She'll ignore that to her heart's content, just like he can ignore the fact that her cheeks have gone a little pink and she can't quite seem to pick out words.

"Well, that was nice of you," she says, "but now you're well on your way to actually being ready for the day and I'm still in bed. That just makes me look lazy."

Him still being here is great, but it kind of takes this out of the realm of 'things she knows how to deal with' and into something completely new.

[ahuntsman]

Yep.

Consider it ignored.

(Except. Not really.)

Graham lets out a chuckle and approaches the bed - towels and all.

It's strange how comfortable he feels around her, even if they've never actually done this before.

"All right," he says. "We can level the playing field, as they say. I won't start getting ready until you do."

He plops down on his side of the bed, looking relaxed - and a little playful.

It's kind of been a really good morning so far.

[notinthebook]

"Careful with a deal like that," she says, unable to keep from grinning. "I could keep you here for kind of a while, depending."

She wouldn't complain, though it's not like they can just take the day off.

As much as she'd like to.

She likes that playful hint to his expression, kind of wants to see if she can tease it out a little further. "Besides, I basically just have to get dressed."