A/N: Right, apologies again for abandoning this story. (Seems like all I ever do is apologise in these ANs!) I have my excuses, but they're a bit personal and I'm sure all you guys really want to do is read the chapter and see how this story ends, so I'm just gonna shut up and let you get on.
After walking through the door, Emma didn't even pause to shuck off her jacket or take off her boots. Instead, she simply crossed the room and threw herself down on the couch, completely exhausted after chasing Henry around and riding a horse for the first time. It didn't look like it took a lot of effort when you saw someone else doing it, but the constant movement had really taken its toll on Emma.
"I'm making cocoa," Snow called from the kitchen. "Anybody else want one?"
Emma nodded wearily, hoping her mother would spot the gesture.
"So that's one for me and one for Emma. How about you, Henry?"
The young boy nodded enthusiastically and jumped up onto a stool at the island in the kitchen to wait, the tiring day obviously having done nothing to diminish his energy. A soft smile graced Emma's features at both the sight of him practically bouncing in his seat and the fact that she would soon be getting some sweet, warm caffeinated goodness, as long as she didn't fall asleep first that was. The battle to keep her eyes open was getting tough, and it came as quite a shock when Snow placed a mug filled with cocoa, topped with a swirl of whipped cream (dusted with cinnamon, of course) and a small mountain of marshmallows.
"Thanks," she yawned, sitting and stretching.
"You look like you need it," Snow said in reply, smoothing Emma's hair as she made her way back into the kitchen, standing on her tiptoes to reach into one of the cupboards and retrieve a tin containing cupcakes.
Henry grinned at her with whipped cream on the tip of his nose as she set one before him.
"Emma?"
Emma turned at the sound of her mother calling her name, not quite realising that Snow was offering her a blue-frosted cupcake as she caught sight of Henry and snorted uncontrollably into her own cocoa.
"What?" Henry asked through a mouthful of his own cupcake.
"Come here, Kid," Emma sighed, setting her cocoa back down on a coaster on the coffee table, and pushing herself up off the couch. Henry slid off his stool and warily walked towards his mother, confused about why he had to so. As soon as he was within reach, Emma wiped the cream from his nose and held her finger up for him to examine before licking it clean.
"Hey, that was mine," Henry complained.
"You've got a whole mugful right here," Snow reminded him. "And you've already had a second squirt of cream."
Still sulking slightly, Henry returned to his cupcake and cocoa before it could get cold. After all, he didn't have long before Regina would be coming to collect him so he could spend the weekend with her.
"Here, Kid," Emma said, depositing what was left of her cocoa in front of him. "Think you can finish mine?"
"You sure?"
"Graham'll be here any minute and I really need to take a shower," Emma answered, checking the silver watch on her wrist. It wasn't exactly a lie. Graham had told her he'd be back at five sharpish to pick her up for their dinner date, getting off from work early since James was covering for him, and it was already ten to. The Sheriff was notorious for being on time, if not early. Mostly though, Emma just couldn't bear the thought of Henry being in a bad mood with her. "Are you all packed for the weekend?"
Henry nodded, eagerly downing the contents of his cocoa before moving on to Emma's.
"Have a good time and tell me all about it on Sunday," she told him as she left the kitchen.
"Uh huh," Henry replied. "Love you!"
"Love you too!" Emma called over her shoulder.
After a five minute shower, Emma hurried to towel herself dry and find something in her closet to wear. She'd have preferred a longer shower that could have begun to unknot her tense muscles, but she was sure she could hear what sounded suspiciously like Graham sat at the kitchen table talking with Snow. If he'd made reservations for them, it wouldn't do to be running half an hour late.
She wasn't quite sure how she managed it, but just ten minutes later, Emma was walking down the stairs in a blue peplum dress and heels, with her hair blow-dried and teased back into an elegant ponytail and a matching clutch bag in her hand, her cell and purse already sealed inside.
Catching sight of her, Graham wolf-whistled appreciatively, causing a blush to spread like wildfire across Emma's cheeks despite the light layer of foundation covering them.
"Shut up," Emma mumbled embarrassedly, shooting a glance at Snow who was watching from where she was still sat at the kitchen table.
Snow sensibly hid her smile at the pair of them behind her mug and shook her head slightly. They were like teenagers sometimes. It was nice to see Emma so happy though. Feeling Emma staring at her, she took her cue to leave.
"I'd best be off if I'm going to catch Red as she leaves the diner," Snow announced, pausing only to grab her purple and black checked coat from the hooks by the front door before leaving. It seemed like the whole family was busy that evening – James had the night shift at the Sheriff's Station, Snow was going out on the town with Red and Ella (leaving poor Thomas to take care of the baby alone), Henry was enjoying the weekend with his adoptive mother and for Emma it was date night.
"We should probably go too, right?" Emma asked hesitantly after a moment's silence following her mother's abrupt departure.
"Right," Graham agreed, finally tearing his eyes from Emma's figure to make sure he didn't trip on his way to open the front door for her. "Don't want to keep dinner waiting."
As they made their way out of the apartment, Emma couldn't help asking. "So where are we going?" It wasn't often they did things like this, dates. They hadn't had a period where they were dating per se. The realisation that they were in a relationship just came naturally.
"It's a surprise, remember. Come on, it's this way," he said, nudging Emma and nodding his head in the opposite direction to her yellow bug and his patrol car.
"We're walking?" Emma clarified, shooting a glance at her heels.
"It's not far," Graham assured her, following her gaze down to her feet and then letting his eyes rove up her shapely legs and body. The action didn't go unnoticed. By the time his eyes had reached Emma's chest – and stayed there a good few moments – Emma's hand had come to rest on her hips and her eyebrows were lifting.
"See something you like?"
"Lots of things," Graham answered breathlessly. It was a solid minute before he continued, his eyes clearing of lust slightly. "But they'll have to wait till later. Dinner calls." Sweeping his arm out, he indicated Storybrooke Tea Rooms and Restaurant, the small tea shop by day and restaurant by night run by the March Hare.
Emma stepped forwards and led the way into the cosy restaurant, Graham following her after holding the door open.
"Good evening," the March Hare greeted. "Do you have a reservation?"
"Table for Humbert," Graham answered with a nod and a smile.
"Excellent, sir. If you'd like to follow me, I'll get you seated."
Emma and Graham, with his hand resting on Emma's waist, followed the March Hare through the restaurant, which was pleasantly only half-filled with a few other couples, to their table hidden away in one of the corners.
"Your menu, Ma'am. And yours, Sir."
"Thank you," Emma and Graham murmured at the same time, smiling at one another resultantly as they opened and inspected their menus.
"Would you care to order a bottle of wine?" the March Hare asked.
Graham looked to Emma for confirmation, before replying, "Yes, we'll take a bottle of your finest red."
The March Hare nodded and made a note before leaving to arrange for the wine's delivery.
"Graham, you didn't have t-"
"-But I wanted to," he said, cutting Emma off before she could complain about expense. "Order whatever you want. Price isn't an issue." Looking away from Emma's slightly awed expression, he turned back to him menu, trying to choose between the Mushroom Pappardelle with Gorgonzola Cream and the Confit Duck with Red Cabbage. "Do you know what you'd like to eat?"
Emma shrugged. The menu was awfully elegant. She'd never eaten lobster let alone eaten Mango, Lobster and Ginger soup. Usually, she had a simple pasta dish when she went to a restaurant. The idea of having something so classy kind of thrilled her, though at the same time she couldn't help feeling guilty over the charge Graham's credit card was going to receive. How he could afford such a place, she didn't know.
When the waiter arrived with their wine, he asked if they were ready to order.
Graham nodded, and told the waiter he would like the Parma ham-wrapped asparagus spears with hollandaise dipping sauce as his starter.
"And for the lady?" the waiter asked.
Emma's mind went blank, not that she'd ever really decided what she wanted to eat anyway. She said the first thing that came into her mind: the Mango, Lobster and Ginger soup.
"How about main courses?"
"I'll have the Confit Duck with Red Cabbage, please," Graham replied. "Emma?"
This time Emma scanned the menu first, looking for something she knew she'd like. "Lemon and Thyme Chicken with Dauphinoise Potatoes, please."
The waiter nodded, wrote down their orders on his pad of paper and took their menus with him as he left.
Graham smiled nervously at Emma as she took a sip of wine.
She returned it, feeling equally jittery herself for some unknown reason.
It didn't take long for their starters to arrive and Graham tucked in with gusto. Emma was more reserved with her lobster and cautiously raised a spoonful of the soup level with her lips. She needn't have worried; it was easily the most delicious thing she had ever tasted, even better than Granny's bear claws that Graham so frequently brought her.
They didn't talk much whilst they ate, but as they waited for the main course, Emma found herself asking if Graham had been to the restaurant before.
"Emma, it only opened a month ago."
"Oh," she replied, surprised she hadn't heard that news.
He chuckled at her, only laughing harder as she affixed him with a look of slight irriation.
When he'd finished, she asked another question. "What made you want to come?"
"The March Hare owes me a favour after I didn't book him for speeding the other week. He said he'd give me a ten per cent discount," Graham answered, but Emma had a niggling doubt that he hadn't told her the whole story. But she didn't get a chance to ask him what the rest of the story was as their mains arrived then. "Smells delicious."
"Duck?"
"That's me," Graham answered.
"So the Chicken must be for the lady," the waiter replied, sliding the remaining plate onto the table in front of Emma, who closed her eyes in anticipation from the sumptuous odours rising from it.
Graham cut a piece of duck, slathered it with red cabbage and shovelled it into his mouth before moaning in pleasure.
"You have to try this," he declared, spearing another piece and proceeding to feed it to Emma across the table, completely oblivious to her shock. That was exactly what a real couple did, wasn't it?
After chewing and swallowing, she had to admit it was pretty good. "Want a bite of mine?"
Graham nodded and leaned forwards to allow Emma to feed him.
"It's good," he agreed, savouring the taste of citrus after the sweet tang of his own red cabbage.
Emma couldn't help feeling hot in the restaurant. Feeding each other? It was all very flirtatious, wasn't it? And totally unlike her. How Graham managed to bring the behaviour out of her was almost magic.
Scraping the last of the food off her plate, Emma didn't think she'd ever felt so stuffed and leaned back in her chair.
"Okay?" Graham asked, reclining back a bit himself.
Emma nodded, grinning at the thought that slouched as they were; they probably didn't look as if they belonged in such an upmarket restaurant, even if they were both dressed to the nines, Graham looking dapper in a navy blue suit jacket, with his white shirt tucked into his trousers.
"Would you care to see the dessert menu?" the waiter asked as he took their plates and balanced them on his arms.
Graham looked to Emma. Emma looked to Graham.
"We'll take a look," Graham finally decided, unable to resist the lure of pudding.
The waiter nodded, was gone about a minute, and returned with a chalkboard bearing the desserts on offer that evening.
"What do you say, Emma, share a sundae?" Graham asked.
"Sure," Emma replied, though she was sure she wouldn't be able to manage much more than a single spoonful of ice cream.
"Chocolate okay?"
Emma nodded.
"One chocolate sundae, two spoons," Graham ordered.
"Right away, Sir."
Graham smiled awkwardly at Emma, the quiet between them somehow comfortable yet awkward at the same time. Both of them were desperately trying to think of something to say. When the sundae arrived, instead of making things better as they'd hoped, it only seemed to heighten the sexual tension between them, as they had to lean forwards and practically bump heads in order to dig into the mixture of ice cream, chocolate sauce, brownies and chopped nuts.
Emma had two spoonfuls then let Graham finish the sundae whilst she went to the ladies room to freshen up. When she returned, he'd settled the bill and was just waiting for her before they left. Emma smiled, noticing how his lips tightened without seeming to convey any happiness. Scrutinising him, he actually looked a bit sick, as if he regretted having most of the sundae to himself.
They stepped out onto the street, and Emma shivered at the sudden temperature change. Wordlessly, Graham removed his suit jacket and placed it around Emma's shoulders before taking her hand. As they walked back to the apartment, Emma found herself tucked into Graham's side and laid her head on his shoulder, the tiredness she'd felt earlier returning tenfold now that she was full too.
"Long day?" he asked, as she yawned for the second time on the short walk.
"You could say that," she mumbled.
"Well, it won't be much longer till you can go to bed," he promised, feeling his heartbeat race again.
Back at the apartment, Emma locked the front door, not sure what time Snow would be back or if she would be back at all, and toed off her heels. Graham paced into the kitchen and filled a glass with water, gulping it down like it was a lifeline.
"I'm gonna head up to bed," Emma told him. "Coming?"
Graham shook his head. "I'll be up in a bit." He needed some time first.
"Okay," Emma said, pressing a short kiss to his lips before leaving him and climbing the stairs to her bedroom.
With her gone, Graham sighed, releasing the breath he'd been holding and let his body go slack. He was so tense with nerves. He'd been battling to keep them under control all evening. His hand slapped his leg a few times, clapping against his wallet, as he mustered his courage to follow his girlfriend up the stairs. When he got to the top, he was quite surprised, since he hadn't been aware of taking the initial steps upwards. Likewise, when he pushed open Emma's bedroom door, he looked around in shock for a split second, confused about where he was before recognising the dresser and some of his clothes over the back of the chair and Emma lying in the bed.
"Emma," he whispered.
"What?" she replied drowsily, not even lifting her head off the pillow.
Graham smiled and crossed the room until he was kneeling beside the bed, right next to her head.
"I've got a question for you," he said, not knowing where all of it was coming from. His hand was reaching unbidden for his wallet and flipping it open, searching through the cash for the small metal object.
"What?" Emma asked again, still not opening her eyes or moving.
Graham took a breath. "Will you marry me?" It didn't come out in a rush. But nor was it the most eloquent thing he'd said. His voice quaked on every word as his emotions threatened to overtake him.
That got Emma's attention. Her eyes opened and her head shot up off the pillow.
"What?" she asked in disbelief.
Graham half-laughed at how often she was saying that before repeating his question. "I said will you marry me?"
"Graham-" She broke off and ran a hand through her hair, still not really believing what was happening. It felt too much like a dream.
He held up the ring, trying not to look crushed as she drew out the whole thing. For a horrid moment he was convinced she'd say no.
But the sight of the ring seemed to convince Emma that it was real and she could stop her eyes watering as she said yes. Any walls she'd had when she first came to Storybrooke were long gone, broken down by Mary and Henry, then by Snow, James and Graham.
Graham let out a shaky breath and slid the ring onto Emma's finger before taking her chin in his fingers and using it to pull her towards his lips.
Emma's hands took hold of his shirt collar, pulling him up and onto the bed. As he kissed her everywhere, on her lips, her jaw, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, her neck, everywhere, Emma didn't think she'd ever been happier. And, she found herself thinking with some irony, it was all because of magic. Without magic, she would never have gotten Graham back. Perhaps the stuff wasn't so bad after all.
A/N: Like I said in the last chapter, I really am grateful for all the input I've had from you guys. I'm glad you enjoyed reading this story and I hope you liked this chapter as much as the rest, if not more.I'm just sorry for being lousy at updating regularly.
Thanks. SabreDae