Emma & Mary Margaret's Magical Words OOM

[the_fairest]

Mary Margaret's never been so glad to see her door. Yesterday, maybe, but not as much as this second. Because that time was a day behind her now. It had been one foot and then the other, and just turning the steering wheel. Taking the stairs. Not stopping to pick anything up, because she bought groceries not too long ago.

So that she can close the door behind her. Put the whole morning somewhere that isn't the entire space inside her chest that it keeps refusing to leave. Then, remember with some awkward surprise (and was that something like relief, too?) that she isn't alone here, when there's a blonde woman on her couch.



Even when she isn't sure she doesn't just want to be alone, Mary Margaret managed to find somehow a teasing tone for her voice. "Is this how my tax dollars are put to work? I thought it must be far more illustriously spent."

Comments

[notinthebook]

"Look, it turns out there's kind of a lot of paperwork that comes with abandoned mines collapsing. Not to mention deputizing someone who only just blew into town. I don't think Graham can put 'for spite' on his recommendation for hiring me."

She shifts, twists until her back cracks once, twice, then pushes her arms up above her head in a stretch.

"How was the hospital?"

[the_fairest]

Her purse went on the tiny table next to the door, her keys dropped into a small china dish beside it, too. "Pretty normal. Ms. Kisnowksi was sweeter this morning, after her daughter visited last night." 

That part had happened first atleast? There wasn't really anything to say, right? Nothing Emma didn't already know. Nothing she'd probably want to hear. How exactly did all of this work? Knowing what or what not to talk to the woman she barely knew, but felt such a strange urge to say everything to. 

Mary Margaret drifted toward her couch, slow, steady step, like a boat that wasn't quite sure enough. Looking over the back at Emma and all the papers. "Should I leave you to everything?" 

[notinthebook]

"Uh huh."

Well, it's none of her business, and if Mary Margaret doesn't want to talk about it, then Emma's sure as hell not going to push the subject of one very particular patient at the hospital.

Casting a wry glance at the paper work, she hesitates, shakes her head, sending blonde curls spilling over her shoulder. "Nah. It's all just red tape, you know? As far as I can tell, nothing's happened in that mine for years. There's no reason why it should collapse now. Just dumb luck, I guess, but I'm through with reading geological reports for now."

She shifts, leans forward, hands loose between her knees. "You have any more do-gooding to take care of, or are you done for the day?"

[the_fairest]

"No, I'm all done for today." Mary Margaret shook her head, letting her fingers settle on the back of the couch. Fingertips partly laced, fingers not entirely relaxed, even as she tried to be. "I was thinking of making s'mores. To celebrate."

Comfort food. Caramelized puffy sugar and melted dark chocolate, with a sprinkle of cinnamon. Which was more of an invitation than it was an explanation of what or more especially why she would be eating s'mores at lunch time.

"Is our guest still here?"

That one with a glance toward backdoor.

[notinthebook]

"Hey, s'mores are always great. What are we celebrating?"

It's got to beat sticking a single candle into a single cupcake and wishing herself happy birthday, that's for sure.

Her shoulders lift with a deep breath as she follows Mary Margaret's glance.

"Yep. I really wish it had picked a different door."

[the_fairest]

"Maybe Artemis was wrong?" Mary Margaret said, turning to one side. Her hip leaning into the couch as she looked at the door. Which looked perfectly normal from here. She'd think it was all a dream if it didn't keep opening on that place every time they tried it.

"About how it leaves when you don't want it to be there."

[notinthebook]

"Yeah, maybe."

Or maybe they both still kinda want it to be there.

She gives the door another quick glance.

"I wonder if it's actually the door. I mean, the physical door. Isn't it more like the place is connecting to us?"

[the_fairest]

"You think?" Mary Margaret wasn't quite sure why anything so fantastical would want to attach itself to her house, no less simply to her person.

She was not like all the people they met there. Flashy, godly, dead, from other worlds. All with some interesting reason or love for the place. Next to which, she was beyond drab.

[notinthebook]

"Why not? It makes as much sense as anything else."

...Okay, it make a lot less sense, too, but they aren't exactly going for the reasonable, here.

[the_fairest]

"Because we're calling the inter-dimensional bar taking over the backdoor, like a territorial stray, sensible now," Mary Margaret said, lifting her eyebrows, as she smiled against the teasing sound of her own voice.


"What are you thinking?"

Because that had sounded like lead up.

[notinthebook]

"I don't know."

She looks back at the door, but this time it's considering, thoughtful.

"Maybe we could move it. Or get it to move."

[the_fairest]

It's pretty huge, Emma. Being that her entire apartment would fit in the room on the other side of her backdoor several times over. Before one took into account all those apartments it had.


"How?" Was important.

More important was. "And, where?"

She rather liked the rest of her house, too.

[notinthebook]

"Well, I don't know. You think I've done something like this before?"

Except that this is exactly the kind of thing Henry thinks she's capable of, isn't it?

"Maybe if we just...concentrate really hard."

She pauses, then laughs, rolling her eyes. "Say a magic word!"

[the_fairest]

Mary Margaret laughed at some combination of the words and Emma's face. She pushed off the couch.

"Everyone there seemed to think it could hear them, or cared about their opinions somehow." She tilted her head a little, sheepishly, continuing to speak, even as her voice got softer. "We could try talking to it?"

Talking to more inanimate objects like it was normal.

[notinthebook]

"What, seriously?'

She gets up, too, in a far less graceful motion, following Mary Margaret to the door, where she leans one shoulder against the wall, arms crossing.

"And say what?"

[the_fairest]

Mary Margaret shrugged, looking at the door and then Emma as she wrinkled her nose. She knew how foolish it sounded, but it'd been more than a day with it stuck now.

"Maybe that we're glad it's decided to let us come, but we really need the doorway back? That we'd be happier if it didn't stay all the time? And maybe chose some other, more convenient, place to appear when it did?"

Yes, she was babbling. A little quickly too, as if she got all of it out at once it would sound less crazy.

[notinthebook]

Emma watches her with a bemused frown pulling deeper between her brows. "I don't know if asking really nicely is going to work," she says, dubious, "but it's worth a shot."

God knows she always melts when Mary Margaret gets that earnest look on her face, so maybe a multidimensional bar will, too.

It's not like any of them know how the damn thing works.

Levering herself off the wall, she moves in front of the door, reaching for the handle -- only one way to find out, right?

She blinks at the cool breeze that wafts against her face, stares at the brick of the patio, closes the door, turns to Mary Margaret, feeling like someone just hit her in the head with something soft but heavy.

"I think it worked."

[the_fairest]

"What?" That had been the peeling brick walls and the not quite great patio chairs. Hanging baskets she never took down, but hadn't ever grown flowers well. All framing Emma, leaving Mary Margaret staring in quite a bit of surprise.

She made it go away? Her? Just like that?


What all had just come out of her mouth again?


"Wait. Does that mean it's in another doorway now?"

[notinthebook]

"Look what you did."

She's not scolding, she's impressed, and while Mary Margaret's staring at her patio in shock, Emma pats her on the shoulder.

"Let's go look and see."

[the_fairest]

Mary Margaret started with the front door, because it could be the only worse place a bar might choose to show up and not leave her house from. But no bar in her front doorway.


Which left the upstairs. Bedrooms, bathrooms, closets.

[notinthebook]

No bar at the front door.

No bar in the fridge, pantry, downstairs bathroom, upstairs bathroom, coat closet, linen closet, or either bedroom, and Emma sits on the landing at the top of the stairs, mouth twisting and shoulders rounded.

"Any left we haven't checked?"

[the_fairest]

"No." Mary Margaret was rather baffled.

Continuing to look rather guilty, the way she started to about halfway through all the doors being opened. "You don't think it thought I was insulting it, do you?"

[notinthebook]

She smiles a little at that, looks up.

"I get the feeling it's probably heard a lot worse than anything you could ever throw at it."

[the_fairest]

Mary Margaret crossed her arms, standing in the hallway. "Do we just wait for it to appear again?"

[notinthebook]

She shrugs, stretches one leg down the stairs and leans back on her palms.

"Dunno. I guess you could try talking to it again, that seemed to work last time. You know."

She waves an idle hand in the air, chuckles. "Believe."