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[notinthebook]

 It's quiet in the office.

Unsurprising, really; it's usually pretty quiet in the office, especially when Graham's out making rounds in the cruiser.  She's still busy going through old files, trying to catch up on the criminal history of the town, not that there's much to look at: a few drunk and disorderlies (mostly Leroy), some break-ins, a handful of domestics.  It's the usual mix for a town this size, with the one anomaly of the mine collapse.

(Her own file's in here, too: Graham had pointed it out with an all-too-innocent smile as the newest troublemaker in town, because he thinks he's funny like that.)

It's boring in here without him, and she finds herself glancing at the clock for the third time, wondering when he'll be back.

Which is stupid.  He's not on a timetable, and she'll see him when she sees him.

Comments

[notinthebook]

Ugh.

Regina.

That deserves nothing but derision and an eyeroll, which is what it gets as she turns back to her bear claw.

"All the more reason to do it."

If it'll piss Regina off, that's good enough for her. Pissing Regina off and letting Mary Margaret stay this shining, happy, adorable butterfly of a person?

She can't think of anything better.

[the_fairest]

Emma's serious. Serious enough to be making jokes at Regina. That she should go for it. Even at the expense of rousing The Mayor.

Mary Margaret took a breath in. The first she'd felt come into her since she got in her car. Her voice trembled and her stomach wobbled with it, as her heart skipped. David.

"Good Lord, is this really happening?"

[notinthebook]

There's a calm settling over Mary Margaret now. All her energy is expended, her frantic babbling soothed by a long breath, making her shoulders lift and fall.

She looks like someone who's come to a decision that both terrifies and excites her, but there's a look of such peace on her face that Emma can't help but think it's ultimately the right one.

Hell. They care about each other. That much is obvious to anyone with eyes, and they should be together, if it's going to make them this happy, if Mary Margaret's going to have that glow to her cheeks and this new way of holding herself, like she doesn't need to be so careful, like she doesn't always have to tuck her arms around herself like a bird with a crippled wing.

It makes her smile, pure warmth, a little of that peace allowing itself to be borrowed and cherished because this, this is a special moment. It's when Mary Margaret makes the choice to allow herself to want something, to want someone, and lets herself realize that she deserves this.

"You tell me."

[the_fairest]

She must be dreaming.

Her heart beating out a rhythm.

One that seemed so clear and doubtless.


It's insane. It has to be, or maybe it's driving her that way, when she glances over at Emma's words, and her first thought is that Emma's smile reminds her just a bit of David's. Or maybe it's not her smile so much as the way how she looks so pleased it fills up every bit of her expression, the way his had in the doorway before he left.

Causing Mary Margaret to duck her head and look at her lap for a second, trying hard to figure out whether to or even if she could control the smile her mouth was being pulled into as the idea took root and wthout pause, now that the door was cracked open, was blossoming wide in her chest.

Emma wasn't taking any of her words back, and she was -- she was just barely pulling it together to get to nodding, looking from her knees to Emma, hazel eyes bright -- she was going to meet David.

At the bridge where everything had started.