milliways_bar | (no subject)

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OOM: This is something she really can't handle before coffee.

"--is no way there is a bar in the backyard, Emma. Are you sure you haven't been spending too much time with Hen--"

The voice had drifted closer and closer until a young woman, with short black hair, appeared in the doorway, looking from over her shoulder to the wide expanse of the room in front of her.

"Emma," Mary Margaret hissed. A completely failed stage whisper. "There's a bar in my backyard."

[Two pups, two muns. One semi-new, one brand new.
Tiny Tags: Emma Swan, Mary Margaret Blanchard]

Sadly, we must call slows for sleep after this last round of tags. We might be back for an hour tomorrow night, but definitely on Wednesday night to pick right up where we left off. Thank you, one and all, for your very Once Upon A Warm Welcome. This night has been full of magic and delight.

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He frowns at her and she frowns harder right back at him until Mary Margaret's question snaps her back into the conversation.

"Everyone I met before just called it 'Bar,'" she says, shrugging. "What else would you call a bar?"

Edited 2012-03-21 17:26 (UTC)

Charles has a small urge to stick out his tongue at Emma which he blames completely on Raven.

When they were younger, she'd usually stop giving him one of her stares if he did something silly.

That's not helpful at the moment and instead he lifts one eyebrow at Emma, "That's how she thinks of herself."

Mary Margaret shrugged slightly, a little pink, but not cowed. "It couldn't hurt to ask, it isn't like we go around calling each other 'person.'"

She can't even imagine what it would be like teaching children like that. It's already a handful even with overlapping names.

She lifts both right back at him.

Archie would no doubt tell her that making faces at a new acquaintance is childish, but that's never stopped her before.

Besides, it was a legitimate point, and a legitimate question, and when Mary Margaret's voice comes a little shy and acquiescing, she takes a deep breath and shoots a quick glance at her friend.

"You're the only person I know who would try to get the proper name for an inanimate object so you won't be rude by accident," she says, but it's not unkind. Even fond.

Mary Margaret's the only friend she's got, after all.

"I've heard her referred to as miss or lady Bar if that would be easier for you. She does answer to simply Bar as that's the identity she has for herself,"

Raven would probably tell Charles to stop flirting with his eyebrows and properly flirt with Emma. He also wasn't being flippant but explaining he's a telepath doesn't seem like a useful next step.

Edited 2012-03-21 23:56 (UTC)

Mary Margaret kind of likes 'Lady Bar,' if the only slip of this pleasure might be the way her smile brightens a little for Charles's answer after Emma's commentary on her just trying to be open minded.

She had to try, didn't she?

Emma leans back, stretches one long leg out in front of her.

"Seems like she's pretty eloquent with those napkins."

"I've found her to be so, she reminds me of my Nanny,"

Charles carefully shifts his legs out of her way.

A little perked up. "She talks through the napkins? What does she say?"

She gives him a crooked little grin. What? It's nice of him to make room. Maybe he's got manners along with that accent -- not that they've ever exactly mattered to her.

Of course he has manners, she was the one who called him a nickname that doesn't suit him at all.

He smiles back as he answers, "All sorts of things. She says hello to new people and talks to figure out what you'd like."

Though he doesn't speak with her that way, he skips that step.

Mary Margaret is resisting the overpowering urge to lay a land on Emma's wrist. It's not her place. Emma being an adult, but the urge was there. So strongly.

It was going to be that, or asking about excusing herself.

"I'll have to try that sometime."

There may not be a hand on her wrist, but that sense of disapproval is so strong that Emma feels like a scolded sixteen year old, and she shifts, uncomfortable, glancing at Mary Margaret before straightening up.

She was just getting comfortable, Mary Margaret.

"I'm pretty sure it -- uh, she -- read my mind once," she offers. She can be a useful part of the conversation, after all.

"Gave me a refill on my beer."

Charles takes a drink as he looks between them, he didn't think he was flirting that obviously. After all he's not doing any of his normal lines which would get a definite eye roll from Raven,

"Yes, I wouldn't be surprised if she'd done that. She's done the same to me. You said you're from Maine, I think. I grew up just north of New York City."

A she, who talked in napkins, and read your mind. It wasn't possible she fell asleep and dreamed all of this, right? Some combination of popcorn, soda, Emma, and Henry?

"Yes. Storybrooke, Maine."

"Not me."

Well. She gives Mary Margaret a quick glance, but it's true. "I'm from kinda all over. But I've been in the upstate area a couple times. It's pretty nice up there. Generally speaking I've mostly been around cities."

It's where most people run, which is stupid, but true.

"I'm afraid I don't know it. What's it like and drew you both there? I grew up in Westchester but I'm currently in Oxford for my studies,"

Emma gets a thoughtful look as he tries to figure out what she means by where people run.

"I've been there my whole life." Which she says, feeling both very certain and faintly queasy. For a second. Then, it's gone completely. Of course, she has. Forever. Day in and day out of forever. "It's a pretty normal small town."

He sure gives her a lot of those considering looks, and she gives him a dubious one right back before Mary Margaret answers the question and she realizes she doesn't, exactly, know just how to pinpoint what she's doing in Storybrooke.

"I guess you could say I was just visiting, and the place kinda got to me."

The place, and the kid, and the woman she's sitting with now, who's been nicer to her than Emma's ever experienced in her whole life.

It's not so wrong to want to carve out a little niche for herself, is it? Acceptance is hard to come by, and she doesn't want to lose it just yet.

There's a lot to think about especially that brief feeling Mary Margaret had, that doesn't fit with everything else,

"I can see how that happens or you connect with someone."

Mary Margaret glanced over at the woman next to her as she spoke. Smiling a little brighter, fonder, even for how small it stayed. Whether she simply meant Henry or Storybrooke in general, or anything she'd offered Emma, Mary Margaret was glad to here were say such a thing aloud.

Getting Emma to admit to having an emotional attachment to anything? Well. The clock tower randomly starting had been a little more likely, even never having moved before.

There's no good reason to feel embarrassed, but she does anyway, and shifts uncomfortably, leaning back in her chair to cross her arms.

"Well, it's a nice place," she says, defensive without knowing why. What the hell, so what if she likes the kid and likes having a roommate and likes having a regular job? That's all totally normal, right?

Emma's defensiveness sort of makes sense as it seems like having a place to belong is new to her and Charles smiles,

"You never know when you'll find where or who you fit with, but you know when it happens."

Edited 2012-03-23 23:50 (UTC)

Mary Margaret would agree. She couldn't explain why she'd felt so completely trusting, and comfortable with Emma, but she hadn't one seconds question or regret about the things she'd done. Bailing her out, or moving her in. She simply felt like...home.

"It's still new," Mary Margaret offered up, into the space of Emma's sudden coolness and noticing of opening up, and Charles commentary, taking the focus from Emma. Her admission was big enough for the minute, and didn't need poking.

Regina was right when she said Emma didn't know how to put down roots. She's got no idea what she's doing; this is the living equivalent of throwing a handful of spaghetti against the wall and seeing what sticks.

She shrugs.

"I think I mostly had that decision made for me."

Even if she's not exactly displeased by it.