A/N: Thank you so much for all the awesome reviews! You have convinced me to write a second chapter. There are no spoilers here, and the idea behind Mary Margaret's belief about stars is credited to my favourite author Brian Jacques.

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

Amazed - Chapter 2

That night, under the stars and lying on a blanket in his backyard, David and Mary Margaret talked. They caught up on past times until their throats became parched and he had to run in to get them a glass of water apiece, and even after that they continued chatting. They spoke until it seemed as if there were no more words to say, and still they found something to discuss. It was a cool but cloudless night, with a full moon watching them like a great unblinking eye. With the blue-and-brown blanket underneath them to act as a shield between their clothes and the grass, a thicker fleece was spread across their bodies although it didn't really matter as they were huddled close together. Not only did it provide them with extra warmth, they rather enjoyed invading each others personal space.

During a brief stop in their conversation, Mary Margaret gazed upwards at the stars that dotted the uncharted vaults of the night sky. She could see thousands of the cryptic lights, although she knew there were countless more. They twinkled like miniature diamonds against the velvety background that blanketed the heavens, and she recognized several constellations she had learned about in her childhood. She loved stars, and there was something mystical about lying underneath them. It was as if they were watching over her, protecting her.

Her thoughts were interrupted when David, who was currently propped up on one elbow, nudged her gently. "Here's a weird question: what do you think stars really are?"

She turned her gaze to him and chuckled softly. "How is that a weird question?"

"Well it's not every day someone asks you."

Mary Margaret smiled in the darkness and looked back up at the sky. "When I was little, not long after my grandfather passed, my mother told me that the stars are really the spirits of all the good people in the world who have died. It gave me comfort, and to this day I still believe it."

David remained silent for a moment, seemingly digesting this information before replying. "Not the answer I was expecting, but I like it."

His companion nuzzled into him, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and allowed her to rest her head on his chest. If she listened carefully she could hear the gentle beat of his heart. "After my mom died I watched the sky for her star. A couple of hours later, a new one appeared outside my bedroom window."

They remained in this position for quite some time. Somewhere nearby an owl hooted mournfully, and the soothing chirp of crickets filled the night air. As they did since time began, the stars remained still in the infinite heavens as they brought light upon the world. While some were luminous and could be seen very easily, there were millions that were nearly invisible and even more locked away in the vastness of space. Even though David and Mary Margaret were not far from the main street, it was as if they were in another world.

Eventually sleep caught up with them, and they both found themselves struggling to hold back yawns. As tired as they were, neither showed any particular interest in moving. Mary Margaret began to nod off, heavy eyelids drooping and her entire body craving slumber. She bravely attempted to stay awake for at least a while longer, but it was useless.

Finally David spoke. "How about I get us some pillows and we can sleep out here?"

She mumbled a reply, which he took as a "yes" and placed a chaste kiss on her warm cheek before rising to his feet and walking over to the sliding door at his kitchen. Even though the fleece blanket was still covering her small frame, Mary Margaret shivered from the lack of physical contact. His arms provided both warmth and protection, and it was the one place where she felt truly safe.

Thankfully she didn't have to wait long as he had returned within a minute, carrying a throw pillow in each muscular hand. Her head was gently lifted for a second, and upon feeling the cushion on her hair she immediately buried her nose in the soft material. Slipping in beside her, David wrapped his powerful arms around her and pulled her in close so that her back was resting against his chest. A smile crept across her lips as she felt the motion, and she instantly melted into his embrace as sleep began its slow but imminent conquer.

"Go to sleep Snow. I'll watch over you." His soothing words, combined with the wondrous feeling of his secure embrace, lulled her into a deep and dreamless slumber.

A monarch butterfly daintily landed on Mary Margaret's head and cleaned its delicate wings, paying no attention to the still-sleeping couple. The insect was so light that she didn't even feel it, and a couple of moments later it flew off in search of nectar. From nearby trees birds chirped their morning songs as the sun began its ascent into the dawn sky. A new day had arrived in Storybrooke.

The fresh rays warmed David's features, causing him to gingerly open his sleep-laden eyes. He blinked several times and, while lying on his back, carefully stretched his legs as to not wake Mary Margaret, who was snoring lightly. Sometime during the night she had turned over so she was facing him, and now her right cheek was resting on his chest. The sight and sound was rather amusing and he stifled a chuckle as an idea popped into his mind. He lightly tapped the end of her nose, and one of her slender fingers instinctively appeared to vanquish whatever had touched her skin. It wasn't enough to awake her, however, and so he attempted a second time.

Mary Margaret wrinkled her nose and sniffed before her eyelids fluttered open, peering up to see a cheeky grin plastered on his handsome face. "Why so early?"

"Good morning to you too."

Even though she was half-asleep, Mary Margaret could not help but smile at his groggy voice. After angling her head so they could share a kiss, she snuggled deeper into his embrace and buried her nose into the crook of his neck. "I could get used to this."

He ran the side of his thumb along her arm, loving how her muscles reacted to his fiery touch. The grin was still stuck on his lips as he gazed down at her. "You were snoring."

Within seconds her cheeks had taken on a red hue, and she groaned in embarrassment. "Oh God, was I really?"

"Actually, I find it rather sexy."

She did not miss the sultry note in his voice, and she playfully whacked him on the arm before planting another kiss on his lips. "I'll take that as a compliment. So, what should we do today?"

David frowned in mock disappointment. "Guess that means you don't want to lay here for the rest of the day."

She prodded him gently in the chest with a slim index finger. "As a matter of fact, cowboy, I would love nothing more. However we really should discuss our current situation with Emma. I recall her saying that Henry believes I am her mother, but I haven't heard anything regarding you."

Although David didn't want to admit it as he was incredibly comfortable - not to mention waking up next to her was quite possible one of the most magnificent feelings - he knew she was right. Emma had to hear the truth from both of them.

They gathered up the blankets and pillows, with David simply tossing them inside before securing the door. He turned to Mary Margaret, his Snow White, and extended his hand. "Shall we, my Lady?"

"You certainly are a charmer." Giggling like a young child, she accepted his offer. Their fingers intertwined perfectly, as if they had been purposely moulded that way, and they started to head towards her apartment.

While cinnamon was not a usual ingredient in hot chocolate, David always sprinkled a small amount onto the whipped cream that adorned his drink. He loved cinnamon; just the mere smell of it made his mouth instantly salivate. Mary Margaret was the recipient of his blame as she had gotten him into the habit since she too enjoyed a mug of cinnamon hot chocolate. It provided an extra touch of soothing warmth to an already delicious drink, and while it was the perfect companion for a cold winter evening there was nothing wrong with having it other times of the year.

As he took another sip of the hot drink, he posed a question to Mary Margaret. "Do you think she'll believe us?"

The young woman shrugged as she patiently waited for her milk to warm up. "To be honest I have no idea, although she doesn't seem to believe Henry. All we can do is hope for the best."

At the mention of the young boy, David sat bolt upright. "Henry."

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "What about Henry?"

"We've overlooked one important detail here. Henry is Emma's biological son, and Emma is our daughter. Which means that-"

Mary Margaret gasped as realization struck her, and she clapped a palm to her forehead. "Henry is our grandson. Oh goodness, how could we have forgotten that? I feel like a fool."

"If you're a fool then so am I," David winked cheerily in an attempt to calm her down. "Besides, we only just got our memories back. You can't blame us for temporarily forgetting our own grandson."

Just then the old door creaked open, and both David and Mary Margaret instinctively turned even though they knew who the visitors were. While Henry - who was holding his book firmly in both hands - simply walked in and sat down at the counter, a slightly surprised look crossed Emma's pretty features as her eyes fell upon David. It was quickly replaced with a wide smile. "David. Good to see you. Is this an intervention or something?"

Gliding over, Mary Margaret gave her daughter a warm hug and grasped her hand. "Not exactly. We've got very important news to tell you. Come, I made you hot chocolate."

Emma was a little perplexed as she sat down, glancing at Henry with her piercing gaze. "I suspect you had something to do with this."

The young fellow shook his head. "I'm just as curious as you are, but I have a feeling on what it may be about."

Opening the book, he turned to a specific page near the front and pointed to a picture of two young people, the woman holding a newborn child in her arms as the man stood over them. It was a beautiful drawing, but it held a strange familiarity: the man and lady looked almost identical to David and Mary Margaret.

The former squinted as if he were looking at a piece of forensic evidence and shook his head in sheer amazement. "That pretty much explains it."

Henry half-turned to face Emma, who was obviously still confused by the entire matter. "Remember how I said Ms. Blanchard is Snow White? Well that's her, and the man in the picture is her husband Prince Charming."

David interrupted by holding up his left hand. "Also known as me."

"Right," Henry continued. "And that baby in Snow's arms? It's you. Therefore - although you already know this - you are the daughter of Prince Charming and Snow White."

This time both David and Mary Margaret held up their hands and spoke as one. "Also known as us."

Emma stared at her three companions, dumbfounded. She was fully aware that Henry believed Mary Margaret to be her mother, but this was the first time she had heard anything regarding her father. The question was whether or not she believed it. "Would someone please explain this to me slowly?"

So David and Mary Margaret took turns relating their epic story. They explained how they met and fell in love, how the Evil Queen (whom Henry firmly believed to be Regina) disrupted their wedding and cast a wicked curse upon everyone, and the reasoning behind putting an infant Emma in the wardrobe. They revealed the chat they had with Rumpelstiltskin in the castle dungeons and him mentioning that their daughter - the Saviour - would return on her twenty-eighth birthday to rescue them and defeat the cruel Queen. Mary Margaret reminded Emma of all the times they had looked out for one another and how close their friendship had grown since she had come to Storybrooke, and David spoke of his protective instincts whenever he was around her. Finally, they told her how true love's kiss had aided them in remembering their true identities.

When they were finished and Emma had digested this new information, she looked at them both carefully for a moment. "Forgive me for asking, but do you really believe all that?"

Reaching over the counter, David grasped her hand and squeezed it gently. "I know how hard this is for you to believe, but you've got to trust us. Mary Margaret and I remember who we really are. Connect the dots, Emma. Ever since you've arrived here strange things have been happening. The town clock even moved, and it hasn't done that in ages."

"But what about you two not even looking like my parents? I mean, we all appear to be around the same age."

Henry took the liberty of answering this inquiry. "It's part of the curse. Besides not knowing who they really are, people here don't age. By the way, you guys are forgetting me in this whole story."

Now it was Emma's turn to furrow her brow, but Mary Margaret answered her question before she even had time to open her mouth. "In the midst of all this, we briefly forgot that seeing as how Henry is your biological son, that would make him our grandson."

The young boy nodded and grinned from ear to ear. "Exactly."

Emma leaned back in her chair, exhausted by all the revelations. "Let's make sure I got all this: you're really Prince Charming and Snow White, I'm really your daughter, and Henry is really your grandson?"

Henry nodded again and repeated his last word.

"I don't know, guys. It all seems too strange."

"Look," Mary Margaret started, beginning to grow slightly exasperated. "When we were held hostage in that guy's home a couple of weeks back and I was tied to a chair, I overheard you two talking in the next room. He continuously mentioned something about opening your eyes, believing in magic, and him wanting you to fix his hat because you - and only you - could get it to work. You can't sit there and tell us you don't believe in magic when that hat eventually worked. Maybe it was luck, but I can bet you magic had something to do with it."

Emma was taken aback by the sudden speech, as Mary Margaret had more of a soft-spoken personality. She was right though, about everything. Since arriving in the quaint town Emma had secretly taken note of odd things that had taken place, and Jefferson had claimed that she had to look around and believe instead of automatically thinking magic didn't exist simply because she couldn't see it. Of course this was coming from a clearly insane person, but his words had held a sort of truth to them. Not to mention the fact that she thought she had Mary Margaret's nose. Maybe it really was time to start believing.

"Y'know Henry," she finally said. "I've never taken a good peek at that book of yours, and I believe your grandparents haven't seen much of it either. Why don't you share it with us?"

Mary Margaret squeezed Emma's hand softly and offered a gentle smile as they huddled around the counter, David's arms protectively around the shoulders of both his wife and daughter. His eyes beamed proudly at his young grandson, who flashed a handsome grin much like that of his grandfather and began reading.

"Once upon a time..."