Show: Once Upon A Time Characters: Emma Swan, Killian Jones, Ruby Lucas, Mary Margaret Blanchard, David Nolan, Belle Ship: Captain Swan (Emma/Killian), with background Blanchard-Nolans & Red Beauty Words: ~18k Timeline: AU Notes:
hello, it is i, au garbage, back to darken your doors once again. bet you thought you’d seen the last of me. this was a on-a-whim fic that sort of blossomed into much more than i intended. it’s vaguely you’re the worst inspired, in the way that, if you’ve seen you’re the worst, you may understand why i say that. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this! as always nothing would exist without the best beta in all the land; bluestoplights!
It all starts when Emma’s best friend’s evil step-sister gets
Emma isn’t a wedding type of person. Even if she were this isn’t
the kind of affair for celebrating the love two people share. Not that Regina
and Robin don’t love each other, just that Regina loves rubbing her
happiness in everyone else’s faces even more.
“You know she only invited me because she can’t rub your happily
married nose in it, right?” Emma asks Mary Margaret as they head towards
David’s beat up pickup truck. Mary Margaret looks beautiful as ever in the deep
purple dress Regina had picked for her bridesmaids. David’s waist coat and
bowtie match the color and satin fabric.
“Oh, Emma, cut Regina some slack,” Mary Margaret sighs, ever the
martyr. “She might not be the most, um, agreeable person but she just
wants to celebrate her love. Maybe she thinks of you two as friends.”
Emma wonders if Regina makes constant snide and condescending
remarks about the state of all of her friends’ lives or if that’s just the type
of bond they apparently share. Mary Margaret does her best with her troublesome
relatives, though, so Emma keeps her mouth shut.
“What did you get them, anyway?” She asks as Mary Margaret
squeezes into the middle of the bench seat, large white and gold wrapped box in
her lap, and Emma slides in after her. She’s forgetting why she’d agreed to
drive together rather than in her own car.
“A slow cooker.”
Emma pulls a face.
“Married life must be a riot,” she comments deadpan. Mary Margaret
gives a big put upon sigh and David chuckles as he backs out of the driveway.