during 1.06, the shepherd

[the_fairest]

Given the way she's turned closing what she thought was her front door behind her, it's no wonder Mary Margaret looks up surprised when she turns around. But the rest might be a surprise for those who know her, too.

Mary Margaret is rather dressed up today: a medium floral skirt, a white halter, vibrant dark pink cardigan, make-up, and her hair pinned back.


You see, she has a date with David Nolan -- and she's checking her watch, a second after noticing the bar all around her, because even the whole End of The Universe might not be able to compare tonight.




(Normal warnings, probably open until I leave for my trip Thursday afternoon. Unless you're good for slows after the weekend, then it's open until whenever it stops.)

Comments

[friend_of_lucy]

Tumnus has finished his research and is in the midst of making sure he hasn't lost any maps when Mary Margaret enters.

One of the map rolls has escaped across the floor and he hurries after it so that it doesn't bump into her, "I'm terribly sorry. Do be careful."

[the_fairest]

Mary Margaret grinned, almost laughing, as she leaned down to help pick it up. It's an easy reflex with so many students -- and, well, everything feels easy right now on top of it.

"That's quite al-" There's a tiny stumble of surprise when she sees who is talking to her. But it's a surprised with far more innocent wonder than fear in it. "-right."

[friend_of_lucy]

"I'm glad. I would had to think that I had made you trip,"

He picks it up and answers her smile with one of his own, her wonder is lovely to see.

[the_fairest]

"Not tonight," Mary Margaret said, brightly, as she was standing back up. It had meant to be more to herself, but it came out sounding far more sure and public. And, she didn't do more than fluster pink slightly.

Tonight was magical and nothing was going to ruin it before she got to the Toll Bridge.

"Do you need help with those?" He does look quite different, but she can't bring herself to be fearful of the difference. It's almost like a movie, or one of her beloved books. "What were you doing?"

[friend_of_lucy]

"I had been researching place names as connected to a rather old journal from Narnia. Its one of the only sources of the era right before the White Witch, but I was doing my best to clean up. I seem to have brought rather more maps with me from the library than I had realized."

[the_fairest]

Narnia? Like the books she advised her students read? Was that possible?

"I'll help you, if you'd like," she said cheerful, looking at the piles on the table. She still had time. Even as her heart trembled a constant stop watch of soon against unmoving time. "Are you done and taking them back? Or still looking from things?"

[friend_of_lucy]

"There's always rather more to look at. That's the danger of my work, it tends to draw me in. Lucy has been known to come in with tea and ask if I found what I needed. The answer is always yes along with a few other things. This work though is for a history of Narnia I am writing for myself not for my duties helping the kings and queens of Narnia."

At the table he picks up the journal and opens it to his favorite page, "Here, the author, a fine and rather proud badger writes of the first sighting of the Witch. The problem is that the place name isn't clear. I know he's speaking of the Lantern Waste but his landmarks aren't ones that are used in my time."

[the_fairest]

Mary Margaret followed after him, looking over his shoulder at the writing as he explained. Wimsey catching quietly, even not as strongly as its competition. "You do sound like it is quite a passion of yours."

[friend_of_lucy]

"We lost so much while the White Witch rules, I hope to find it and do my part to keep Narnia well. I do that as well in the palace, but this is my gift to my home."

[the_seafarer]

That's a nice sight.

And it's not that she's pretty -- though she is, lovely in a way that reminds him of Susan Pevensie and Marian all at once, dark-haired and fair-skinned, but her eyes are full of laughter and her mouth keeps twisting towards a smile, and that's what really catches his attention, making him smile at her from his seat at the bar.

"Having a nice night?" he asks, conversational. Young he might look, but his voice is kindly, and so are his eyes, twinkling at her from over his meal.

[the_fairest]

Mary Margaret wasn't entirely, and yet was, a little surprised to have someone she didn't know call out. That pleasantly amused, inquiring look of his even from over where he sat.

Letting go of her wrist and looking at her watch -- time stopped here, but her heart didn't and oh, how it wanted all the minutes to fly -- brushing her fingers instead on the sides of her cardigan as she smoothed it down. (For the dozenth time in the last ten minutes.)

"Yes, thank you." Even the shyness for point can't keep her smile away. "Are you?"

[the_seafarer]

"Rather," he says, smiling a little more warmly. Sea-gray eyes flick to follow her look at the watch, and he lifts a hand.

"Though I'd not interrupt you. Are you on your way somewhere?"

Watches -- truly odd things, but handy, no doubt. Even if a bit on the unnecessary side, here.

[the_fairest]

"I was." She looked back at her door, as she rubbed her arm against her side, a little embarrassed for fixating so much. But. "I was leaving house seconds ago."

"I - um -" This is far less like stumbling and far more like flustering, when she pinkens, but smiles anyway. Regardless of the fact she's acting like she might be twelve. "I'm on my way to meet someone."

David. Not 'someone.' David.

"Except then suddenly I was here. Again."

[the_seafarer]

This is a delight he rarely sees, now. So often his friends and companions here have worry or shadows in their eyes, weight on their shoulders. Marian's smiles are full of complexities and unspoken thoughts, and even Amy has the worries of a kingdom to keep her occupied.

This lady, though, she shines as brightly as the sun on the battlements of Cair Paravel, and it gladdens his heart, though she is a stranger.

"This place has a way of interceding," he admits. "I hope it has not been too great an annoyance tonight. Sometimes it rather reminds me of the kind of cat that will wind about your ankles until you trip over it."

[the_fairest]

"Usually we have a door. Upstairs," Mary Margaret glanced up, meaning her own second flower, even as she lighted on Milliway's roof and came back to him. "It hasn't taken me at the front door before, but a few minutes couldn't hurt too much, what with time stopping and all."

Rambling. She was quickly approaching rambling. This is apparently what happened of not having Emma there, and so many thoughts, so many emotions. All of them turned the same way, like a banner in the wind.

[the_seafarer]

"We?"

He'd not hold her from her meeting, however curious he might be and however delightful she might be, but he can't help asking the question, particularly if she's planning on staying for a few moments.

"Aye, the slower time here can be a blessing in such cases," he agrees, though there's a faintly wry twist to his mouth as he says so.

His own case was...somewhat different.

[the_fairest]

"Emma." It's not the same smile that keeps coming out, all surprised and trepid sunshine -- this one, the one that comes with her name is calmer. It's like respite and cool running water through wild green places. Miracles from the darkest places, stars in the deepest night.

Even if it's weeks, days, it feels like forever.
There's a peace there, such knowing.


Such --






Wait. What was she saying, again? "She's my roommate."

[ahuntsman]

It is coincidence when Graham glances up from where he's sitting, reading the latest of Sidney Glass' editorials in the Storybrooke Daily Mirror.

Across the front page is the headline, in big blocky text: 'Welcome Home, John Doe!'

"Mary Margaret!" he calls out, in order to get her attention. He offers her a small wave, too.

[the_fairest]

"Graham." It's more of a murmur from far further than he could hear it, as she shifted a little nervously suddenly. But she got herself walking across the area a few seconds later. "You look pretty relaxed. Are you taking a break at the end of the universe tonight?"

[ahuntsman]

When you have technically-endless time to procrastinate going home, you eventually find yourself calming down. Relaxing, even.

Graham nods.

"There's no better place to take a break than here," he says. "At least tonight, anyway."

He folds the paper in half, settling it in front of him, pages crinkling. He gestures to her neat, slightly dressy attire.

"Were you off somewhere?"

[the_fairest]

"I - uh -" Oh, but twelve is totally a color laid right across Mary Margaret, and the ways her hands come together, shoulders shifting, and she fiddles with the peridot ring. None of which actually detracts from the smile that refuses to flee. "Yes."

[ahuntsman]

Graham knows that smile.

Hell, he often sports a similar one on occasion, too. Not as bright, maybe, but it's there.

"Ah, I see."

Then, innocently: "This doesn't have to do with the conversation you had with Emma earlier this afternoon, does it?"

[the_fairest]

"Yes." Mary Margaret's fingers pressed a little tighter on the ring not turning it so quickly. A little shyly, whether it's the admission or the necessity for the thing it self. "I needed her advice."

[ahuntsman]

"Of course."

Graham isn't quite sure why it matters so much, though he attributes it to the fact that both women are his friends, but seeing Emma and Mary Margaret become as close as they seem to be - it's nice to see, even as someone on the outside looking in.

It's ... right, somehow.

Another effect, no doubt, of Emma's presence in the town.

"And this advice has you on a mission."

[the_fairest]

"Sort of," Mary Margaret both agreed and disagreed at once.

Her head tilted slightly, as she crossed her arms, that smile of hers taking care with its liberty again. "It's kind of funny how being told you're wrong can be the best thing in the world."