The Morning After

It was an unusual few days for Mary Margaret. First she crosses a line with a very much married man. Then she nearly breaks up the unhappy marriage, only to have the plans thwarted when David's memories return. And then she drowns her absolute disappointment in tequila and a one night stand with none other than Storybrooke's illustrious Dr. Whale.

It was a very unusual few days.

After imparting an awkward farewell at Dr. Whale's house she made the third walk of shame in her thirty or so years of living and then attempted to bathe away the creeping guilt that seemed to permeate every inch of her body. Not even 24 hours before she had fallen into Dr. Whale's bed she had been with David. Their lips had touched, noses brushed. Her mind had wandered to what could eventually happen in David's bed, only to fall into another man's hours later.

This was not good. For weeks she had dealt with the guilt of falling for a married man and now she would have to grapple with typical morning after regret. Sometimes life was truly unfair.

All the tequila and her late night made teaching an absolute nightmare and she was never so happy to hear the last bell of the day ring. She waved goodbye to the students, nausea creeping forward as she gathered her things.

"Mary Margaret?"

She jumped at the voice, a hand flying to her chest as she met the eyes of Dr. Whale. He smiled timidly and said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

"No, it's fine," she told him. "I'm just a bit jumpy today."

"I can see that."

He was holding flowers and her cheeks flushed as he followed her gaze and said, "Oh, these are for you. Unless you think flowers are a poor choice. In that case, they are not for you."

She laughed. "Flowers are fine." He handed them to her and she took a small sniff. "They're beautiful. Thank you."

"So, last night was…interesting."

"Yes, most definitely," she retorted dryly. "I usually don't…"

"Me neither," he interjected. "I had a nice time, though."

Mary Margaret nodded in response, thinking morosely that she barely remembered the night. The time from her fourth shot of tequila and waking up in his bed was a bit of a blur.

"I was wondering, Mary Margaret, if you would like to have dinner with me."

"Dinner?"

"I know we tried it once without much success but I'd like to give it another try."

"You don't have to because of last night," she said hurriedly. "Really, I-"

"This has nothing to do with last night," Dr. Whale said. She gave him a look and he remedied, "Alright, it has a bit to do with last night. But I like you, Mary Margaret. I like you and I want to eat dinner with you."

She smiled a bit at that last part's wording. Dinner seemed a bit sudden, even with the previous night's activities, but he was a nice man and he looked so eager standing in front of her. And he wasn't married. "Well, I do have to eat."

"Tonight maybe?"

"Okay," she said. "Tonight. Pick me up at seven?"

Dr. Whale grinned, nodding happily. "Yes, seven works wonderfully. I will see you then." He hesitated for a moment but then leaned in and kissed her cheek. She noticed that as he left the room there was a definite pep to his step.

It had been a long while since Mary Margaret had prepared for a date with a man she had already seen naked. The last time would have to be her last relationship and the strangest thing happened when she tried to think back to that time that she knew resided in her past. She couldn't remember a single detail. Not the man nor the experience. She decided this was rather unnerving as she changed her outfit for the third time. She had to have some foresight as to what dress would best suit the occasion. This wasn't rocket science, after all.

"Wrong," she muttered, analyzing her appearance in the mirror. "It's all wrong. It's all absolutely wrong."

She hastened to pull it over her head when there was a knock on the door. "Oh," she breathed out, working to shimmy it back over her head as she wondered just how much time she had squandered changing outfits. Last she checked Dr. Whale would not arrive for another hour. Surely she didn't waste that much time switching dresses.

She was in a bit of a mood already from having to wear a dress that was so positively wrong, and this mood was not remedied when she opened the door to reveal not Dr. Whale but a rather disheveled looking David Nolan. His eyes widened at her attire and as his eyes raked over her form her mouth set into a firm line. He had no right to look at her like that. Or to be at her door.

"What are you doing here?"

"I-I had to see you," he said, eyes returning to her own.

"And why is that?"

"You're dressed up," he said, becoming distracted again.

"Yes, I am. I have a date."

"A date?" he said, voice sounding much sharper than Mary Margaret thought appropriate. Who was he to have any sort of reaction? He had his pretty little wife and she would be damned if he made her feel uncomfortable for her one perfectly acceptable date. She deserved it, after all. She deserved to have someone who doted on her and didn't have all the silly complications that rode on David Nolan's coat tails. She intended on telling him all of this but instead settled with, "Yes, I have a date and it is none of your business."

His cheeks reddened and he stammered, "No, I guess it's not anymore. Anyway, um, can I come in?"

"No, you cannot," she said firmly. Bad things tended to happen when he came into her house. No, she much preferred him on her doorstep where she could easily slam the door in his face if things got out of hand. "You can stay right there."

"Okay, I guess that's fair."

He was so agreeable all of a sudden and she sighed, "David, what are you doing here? I really would rather you not be here when my date shows up."

"I wanted to see how you are."

"I'm fine."

"I can see that with the dating and all," he said awkwardly.

"I'm stronger than I look," she added. "And besides, part of me always knew that you would go back to her. I was prepared." That was a lie and both of them knew it. "Anyway, I'm fine. Tip top shape. Fit as a fiddle. Good as gold."

"Well, good. I just…I wanted to make sure you were okay. I never meant for-I didn't-"

"I know," she interrupted softly, saving him from his befuddled tongue. "I know you didn't. But you need to give me some space, David. I can't have you coming over here all the time checking up on me to assuage your own guilt. I'll be fine."

David nodded, his face unreadable. "Okay, well, I'll go then."

"Thank you."

He turned to leave but then glanced back once as he tossed off, "Have a nice time on your date."

She closed the door.

The date was nice. Dr. Whale took her to one of Storybrooke's nicer restaurants and her final dress ended up working perfectly. The meal was delicious and the wine lent a pleasant glow behind her temples. Dr. Whale was charming and engaging, making her laugh with stories of his childhood and work. An objective party would say that the date was a success and Mary Margaret would have to agree. Despite their previous night, Dr. Whale was nothing but gentlemanly when he dropped her off at her home, ending the night with a chaste kiss and secret smile. It was a wonderful night.

Yet, she still ended up sobbing in her bed thinking about another man with his perfect blonde wife.