{ storybrooke }

13. { what happened to frederick }

A few days had passed since Mr. Gold's arrest for the assault of Moe French and the pawnbroker had not been released yet. Winter was still staying over at the Blanchard loft, though she visits him often. He had told her to continue her life as normal.

But what was truly normal about waking in a stranger's home every day, the memories of strange nightmares in remaining her mind?

Yet her routine remained the same. She went to school and her therapy sessions like Mr. Gold requested, she did her homework and would tend to the shop in her guardian's absence. That morning was a slight change to her repetitive days as Mary Margaret wanted to meet Emma and her in the diner.

Emma and her approach Granny's when the mysterious motorcycle rider heads out and bumps into them. He glances the young brunette over before turning his attention towards the sheriff. He inquires about a drink that Emma had promised him.

Winter raises her eyebrows at her current roommate. They were going back and forth, leaving the teen feeling a little awkward. Emma was done talking to the man and puts her hand gently on the girl's back, guiding her past him and towards the front door.

They both find Mary Margaret already sitting at one of the tables, taking a sip of her cup. Her eyes suddenly widen and her eyebrows furrow when she notices what happened outside. "Who was that," the teacher asks, her eyes following the motorcycle through the window as the engine roars and the biker drives away. 

"I don't know yet," Emma replies. She takes her seat opposite Mary Margaret. Winter shrugs off her mantle coat and drapes it over the back of the last remaining chair. She sits down with the two other women and folds her hands together on her lap. However, one of her hands was picking at her pinky nail.

Mary Margaret stares at her intently. "Yet? So you're going to find out?" Emma ensures that it is nothing, but the black haired woman knows her roommate long enough to know that nothing means something with her, because otherwise it would not be worth a conversation about it.

Emma leans forward. She puts her elbows on the table and stares right back at Ms. Blanchard. "I'm sorry, I thought you called me here to talk about you," she suggests. Winter keeps picking at her nails, but even she could not help lean in a little bit more. Her hazel eyes were also on Mary Margaret.

"Yeah, but talking about you is easier right now," she remarks. Her voice sounded a little strained. Ms. Blanchard seemed stressed, Winter thinks silently. Emma asks aloud if something was going on.

The dark haired woman leans in towards both of them and begins whispering. "Remember when you told me to stay away from David and I agreed?" Both nod their heads, giving their affirmation in a whisper too. Mary Margaret confesses that she did not, to which both Emma and Winter respond with that they know.

Mary Margaret furrows her eyebrows and purses her lips together. She asks how they knew. "Because I'm sheriff, and you are a lovesick school teacher. Covering your tracks is not exactly your strong suit," Emma explains.

Then both women look at the teenager in their midst, who simply shrugs her small shoulders in response. "I am just observant," she remarks calmly. Mary Margaret's voice grows louder as she feels a little attacked. "Well I've been discree-" She looks up, realizing she was quite loud, and lowers her voice. "- discreet."

"Two teacups in the sink, new perfume, late nights, plunging necklines- It was not hard to connect the dots," Emma begins to sum up all the suspicious behaviours with Winter mostly nodding along. Mary Margaret looks down at her top in doubt. "Plunging?"

The sheriff remarks that she has been a top button kind of girl when she met her and Winter could only agree for the few years she knew the teacher before that. Mary Margaret sighs. There was actually a weight being lifted off her shoulders now she did not have to lie to them anymore.