Chapter 19: Hemma vs. Golden Swan
Emma Swan—she refused to use the name Potter—groaned after she finished throwing up. She didn't know what was wrong with her, but she felt awful. So tired and nauseous, she hated being sick. Stomach bugs were always the worse, especially the stress that had been going around her.
It had been bad enough that Jaime had been taken away from her, but then there was her marriage—if you could call it that—and the disaster that was her relationship with Ford.
She had only talked to him a couple of times since that night a few weeks ago, and it had been about business. He always had a meeting or something that made him hang up, but Emma knew that things had gotten too weird between them.
She sighed heavily as she felt another wave of nausea. This bug was tough. Or maybe it was thinking about Ford that had her feeling sick.
Emma wanted him.
She hated admitting it, but that's what she wanted: Ford. Of course, it might've just been because her encounter with him was the first sexual encounter that she could remember—and well, the first time she didn't view sex in relation to the rape that apparently never happened.
But it wasn't just that, or at least she was pretty sure it wasn't that.
She missed her conversations with Ford. Even though, they had not talked much throughout the years, since reconnection with the man, Emma had had a conversation with him almost every night—or at least until they had sex with each other. Then the conversations had been less frequent, not that Emma hadn't been trying. However, Ford was extremely firm in his as long as your Mrs. Potter nothing is happening between us mantra.
Emma hated this stupid marriage. And true, Harry had been keeping his distance. He had been at work for a good part of the past few weeks which had been nice, but at the same time—well, she felt like he was punishing her for something which was ridiculous because what was there to punish for.
The one time he did talk to her was earlier, when he mentioned that he talked to Ford and that Jaime was to be relinquished to their custody by the end of the day. Emma had just nodded her head, because honestly—this bug she caught—made her not really want to pay attention.
Even Harry noticed she was sick, which was saying something.
God, she didn't get why she was so fucking bitter. Why did she resent her so called husband? As far as long lost husbands went, Harry wasn't THAT offensive. However, his presence aggravated her, maybe it was being married that aggravated her and gave the one guy she'd been able to open herself up to—
She sighed heavily as she felt another wave of nausea hit her as she heard the door open. Great, Harry was back.
She didn't even get any rest; she must've been in this bathroom longer than she thought. She hoped Jaime was with him, she thought, as she finally managed to hobble enough to grab her bathrobe.
Her reflection looked about as horrible as she imagined, she hadn't seen circles this big under her eyes since she had been in jail. She was going to need to get her anxiety medication and sleeping pills refilled soon, she hated taking the things, but she hadn't been able to get a good night's rest in awhile. She had forgotten to get the damn things refilled before she left Boston, which meant she needed to find a shrink, and she really didn't fill like she could talk to anyone in Storybrooke about her problems. Especially since the one shrink was the same shrink her son saw.
Talk about awkward.
Emma was thinking this when someone knocked at the door. She frowned, thinking she had only been alone for an hour maybe two at tops. She hadn't really kept track of time. All she knew is she had tried to fall asleep (failed at that). Then she had attempted to take a long bath thinking it could help settle her stomach. Instead, the bath salts she used made her throw up. And then, well, she didn't know how long her head had been in the toilet. Only that she probably could do with another bath, but she likely didn't have any time.
"Just a second," Emma had finally said noticing how raspy her voice sounded.
"It's just me, Emma." Hermione called. "Harry said you were a bit under the weather, just checking if you need anything?"
"I'm…" Emma didn't want to say fine, because she technically wasn't fine. She felt awful, but what else was there to say. "Maybe some Sprite?"
"Okay," Her lawyer said.
Emma shook her head as she tried to make herself last ghastly. The most she could do was pulling her hair up. God, she hoped she didn't get vomit in it she thought as she pulled on the disgustingly pink yet comfortable bathrobe she had bought at Victoria's Secret.
Hermione raised an eyebrow when she saw her, "You do not look fine."
"You don't either," Emma said. "I thought you were arrested for punching Regina."
"I have connections," Hermione said. "Really, Emma, you should lay down. I'll get your drink to you."
Emma shook her head. "I want to be here when Jaime gets here."
Hermione frowned, "Well, at least lay on the couch. Harry will have my hide if he knows I let you walk around like that."
"I don't give a shit what Harry has to say," Emma said. "And really, Hermione, I doubt he cares that much."
The brunette frowned. "Emma, that's not true. Harry cares a lot more than you realize."
Emma rolled her eyes, "You know it's one thing to say it, it's another thing to show it. Besides, it's been ten years, Hermione. I want to move on with my life. Harry should want that too. Which is why I want to get a divorce, after all the custody stuff is handled."
The girl bit her lip, "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure," Emma snapped inwardly wincing when she realized how harsh that sounded. "I'm sorry, it's just I—I hate that everyone is forcing Hemma."
"Hemma?"
She sighed heavily, "You know, Harry and Emma. Like when you ship a couple on a TV show or book you give it a name."
"Right."
Obviously, Hermione had not been a member of any type of fandom or at least that's Emma thought until the brunette said, "I'm guessing I should be shipping Golden Swan?"
"What?" Emma said caught completely off guard.
"You and Ford," Hermione stated. "It's obvious, both of you—there's something going on there."
"I—uh, yes." Emma finally relented. "But, well, it's nothing. It's nothing at least until I end my relationship with Harry, Ford was pretty adamant about that."
Graphically adamant about it. Stating that he wasn't going to be her fuck buddy.
Fuck buddy indeed.
Really?
Who said that?
And sure, that day she was just thinking of having their relationship be about sex—at least at first—because relationships weren't exactly a thing for Emma, but she did want something more with Ford. She knew that the moment she had made love with him, though she really hadn't rationalized it to herself until later on.
"I guess that sounds sensible enough," Hermione said with a frown like there was something about the whole thing she disapproved of. But what, Emma wasn't sure.
"You don't sound convinced," Emma said.
"I—it's none of my business." The girl said, "I'm dealing with my own relationship woes. Have you noticed that there is something strange about Humbert?"
Way to change the subject.
"The fact that he doesn't understand the word no, and that he is Regina's lap dog? Is that what you're talking about?"
"He hit on you?" Hermione asked sounding a little bit offended almost.
"I wouldn't necessary say hit, but—yeah, he sort of did." Emma said recalling that night at the bar. "Honestly, though, it's odd. Ever since he found out I'm married he hasn't came over (much)."
"Well, at least he's honorable." Hermione said.
Emma laughed. "Humbert, honorable? He sleeps with Regina, you know. Their relationship is limited to Saturday shags, but still. He sleeps with her. Don't tell me you're interested in him."
Hermione shook her head, "No, just found his behavior strange."
Emma shook her head, "You should avoid that guy, Hermione. He even makes Harry look appealing."
"Harry is appealing," Hermione said. "Well, to most women."
"What did I say about Hemma?" Emma said knowing another "he's not so bad" lecture was coming.
It was weird how many people—well, Ford and Hermione—defended her marriage. And honestly, Emma knew she should try to get along better for Jaime's sake but she hated the man.
And she didn't know quite why.
Hermione sighed, "I'm just saying, he's an okay guy."
"Maybe if you're not married to him," Emma huffed.
Hermione sighed heavily, "That's what bothering you, isn't it?"
"What?" Emma said.
"It's the marriage, not that people are pressuring you to be with Harry."
Emma rolled her eyes, though Hermione had a point. "I really don't want to talk about this anymore."
"You and Harry are both too stubborn for your own good."
"There is no me and Harry," Emma snapped as her phone rang.
It was Ford.
Just seeing his name on her Caller ID caused her stomach to twist, and it just wasn't the ever present nausea from the stomach bug she had picked up. It was the first time she had seen his name in days. A part of her wanted to immediately pick up that phone, then another thought in her head told her to make him wait for a change. Then ultimately, what won out was she thought the call might've been about Jaime—yes, that was probably it. It was probably about Jaime.
"Ford?" She asked.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hermione's eyebrow being raised.
Seriously, she didn't get what was so interesting about her pathetic life.
"Emma, love," He said. "I'm at Storybrooke General. We managed to find Jaime."
"Is he okay? Why are you at the hospital?"
"He's fine," Ford said his in a placating tone. "He just had a little panic attack from being locked up all day, but Whale is completing a physical just to make sure."
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," She snapped.
"I—Harry told me you were ill you don't—"
"He's my son." Emma snapped not giving a damn what Harry thought.
Emma knew she looked terrible when she arrived at the hospital, but she didn't care. At least until she saw Ford, who was immaculate as usual in one of his Armani suits and shiny shoes. It was funny how Ford's suits didn't bother her like the suits Harry did, they wore pretty much the same style, but somehow the suits always made Emma think of Harry as being pretentious. With Ford, well, the suits were just Ford.
Though, in Emma's humble opinion he looked better out of them.
Regardless, she was starting to rethink her hastily thrown on jeans, Boston U sweatshirt, and hastily thrown ponytail. Could she have at the very least thrown on some mascara?
No. It had been enough just to put on this getup. Personally, she'd rather be at home still in that hideous pink bathrobe and she would be if it didn't involve her son.
For all intents and purposes, Emma tried not to care. Her focus should be on Jaime, which was what she told herself.
"Where is he?" She asked Ford.
"Are you okay?" He asked, "You look a little pale. You didn't really have to come."
"Where is my son, damn it." Emma said before she felt a wave of dizziness hit her and had to lean against a chair.
"Emma?" Ford asked as she felt him steady her.
As Emma felt him touch her she felt her heart beat a little faster, the emergence of goose flesh on her arms and she rolled her eyes. It seemed like her body, completely sick and out of its mind, still reacted to Ford Gold.
"I'm fine," She finally murmured. "Just a bad burger."
"I still think you should get yourself checked out," He snapped. "You look like you're about to collapse."
"It's just been a long day." Emma said, "Now help me get to my son's room."
He sighed heavily but held his arm out for her to lean against him. "I should've just brought the boy home rather than have you come here."
"Can't, you're not his legal guardian." Emma said with a small smile.
"A mere technicality, I have Harry's power of attorney to pick him up since he had to head back to his job."
"Of course he did," Emma said with an eye roll.
"Still not impressed with your husband, I see."
"You know I'm not," She said as they walked towards a room in the small pediatrics wing of the hospital.
He shook his head as Emma grimaced at the "cheerful" kid friendly paintings and other kid oriented stuff the hospital staff had tried to make the wing child friendly, it didn't as Emma knew from her several blots of illness as a small child. Blots of illness that made it impossible for her to get a family.
"What?" Ford asked.
"It still looks depressing," Emma said as her eyes looked at a picture of a smiling family. "I don't even know why they try to bother hiding it. Kids aren't stupid."
"No they're not," He said. "Jaime's fine physically, by the way."
"You told me as much on the phone," She said. "He had a panic attack though. I've had panic attacks; I know how physically tiring that can be on the body. And God knows, he won't take something to relax him. Not after what Regina did to him."
Ford nodded. "I know, I was here when he was brought in. Whale said he was going to do some blood work and try to find someone to talk to him."
"God, I hope it's not that Archie Hooper. I'm sorry, but I do not like the shrink."
"Because Regina hired him?"
"Because he's Regina's patsy." Emma said as they approached the room where Jaime was.
Ford nodded, "That sounds like Hooper. Don't worry, dearie, I'm going to have fun with him when I depose him."
Ford seemed giddy about that and Emma just rolled her eyes as they opened the door.
Jaime was alone on the bed flipping through the channels. Emma frowned, "Where's Whale?"
"He left to check on other patients, I told him not to bother with the shrink." Her son said. "Are we going to leave now, Mr. Gold, since Emma's here?"
"I'll see if I can procure your papers." He said with a smile. "Are you feeling better, Jaime."
The boy shrugged. "I'll feel better when I get out of here."
"I'll take that as my cue to make Whale cough up those papers."
The boy smiled as Gold left the room, Emma couldn't help but stare at his ass if even for the slightest minute.
Jaime shook his head, "So that's your Gold."
"What?" Emma said.
"The guy who gives you the roses," Jaime said. "He's—well, he's different."
"You don't like him," Emma said surprisingly disappointed.
"Oh, I like him fine." Jaime said, "In a weird way he reminds me of Harry."
"Ford is nothing like Harry." Emma said.
"They both wear suits."
"Lots of men wear suits," Emma said before changing the subject. "Are you okay, really?"
"I'm fine, Emma."
Emma gave him a dubious look.
"Okay, being in a locked room like that gets to me. I am claustrophobic, but it wasn't like the last time. I refused to eat the breakfast she made me, or the dinner. Okay, to be honest I've been living off of my candy stash since I came back to her house. As much as I like sugar, I'm a little hungry."
"I'm sure you are," Emma said with a sigh as she sat down.
"Are you sure you're okay," Jaime said. "You look a little pale."
"Bad burger at Granny's," Emma said frowning as Whale came in the room.
"You're not feeling okay, Mrs. Potter?" The idiotic doctor asked.
"She has food poisoning," Jaime said before Emma could tell the moron that she was fine and didn't want him prodding on her.
"Perhaps, I should examine you." Whale said.
"That won't…"
"I insist." Whale said, "I won't have you die under my watch, the last thing I need is a malpractice case. And I know that nasty lawyer of yours will gleefully sue me."
She was finally home after being prodded and poked by Whale, who had even taken a little blood even though he was pretty sure that it was just food poisoning. Jaime had finally been coddled enough into taking the medication that was supposed to relax him, and Ford was staying over.
Which was bad.
A part of Emma, wished she didn't tell him that she didn't mind if he stayed in his own house. But it was his own house, and quite frankly she wanted him here but at the same time—well, it just made her already weak stomach weaker.
Ford, for his part, insisted she go to bed as soon as she got home. And shortly later, he brought her soup. And said he was making shortbread of all things.
She had no idea he could cook, just like she had no idea what shortbread was until he described it to her.
And surprisingly the thought of one settled her stomach. However, what she didn't expect was for the doorbell to ring and for Ford to be arguing with someone.
Regina was Emma's instant thought. She knew the dark headed mayor was supposed to be in the hospital and subsequently jail, but she wouldn't pass Regina to somehow slip out of facing her consequences. Although, Ford mentioned that she had been pretty drugged up.
It wasn't Regina though. Rather, it was a tall blonde man who seemed to be holding a plate of cookies.
It was the same man who was in the coma—Regina's husband.
Daniel Mills, as he introduced himself. He seemed nice enough, and genuinely concerned about Jaime but Ford wasn't buying it as he told her when he left.
"Like Hooper he's another one of Regina's patsies." He said.
"He makes good cookies though," Emma said as she ate one of them. It was the first thing that had settled in her stomach in awhile.
"They're bake and break," He said. "Just wait until you taste my short bread."
"Jealous?" Emma found herself asking.
It was ridiculous, because there was nothing remotely romantic about her encounter with Daniel Mills. The mere thought about thinking about that man in a sexual way, made her cringe. Yet, Ford seemed jealous of him for some reason.
"It's not jealousy, love, but annoyance. Besides, I'm sure you'll like my biscuits better."
"Biscuits?"
"Oh, right. I forgot you called them cookies here. You really should be in bed, love."
She shook her head and looked at him.
"What?"
"I'm glad you're here, Ford."
"I'm glad I'm here too, Emma." He said smiling at her.
And then she couldn't help it but start kissing him again.
Jesus, what was with her? She knew he didn't want this, she knew it was dangerous. But Regina was in the hospital, and despite the fact that she felt God awful there was something about being around Ford that alleviated all that nausea.
He pulled away for a brief minute. "No."
"She's in the hospital tonight," Emma said. "Jail tomorrow, it's not like she has a nanny cam in this house."
He sighed heavily looking at her, "You don't know how much I want you, love, but we discussed this already. It's dangerous AND you're married."
"I don't care." She said, "And I told you, she won't know."
He frowned, "Well, at the very least can we wait to discuss this later? In a room with a lock on it, I don't want Jaime to see us."
Emma nodded that was reasonable, besides by then maybe she'd find a way to make herself look somewhat presentable.
She thought about primping, but in the end she couldn't. While the had settled down, she didn't have enough making herself pretty for a guy who was more than likely going to turn her down again. At least she put on a nicer looking bathrobe. Actually, it was a kimono if you were going to get in particulars. One of her friends had bought it for her as a birthday gift awhile back, it was hardly sexy but it was a lot more attractive than her pink bathrobe.
Then came the tentative knock on the door, much to Emma's surprise no sooner did Ford come in than did he start kissing her.
When she pulled back, he looked at her. "Are you feeling alright?"
"I'm fine," She said. "Better than fine, keep doing what you're doing."
He rolled his eyes, "I cam here to talk, Emma."
"That's not what you were doing when you came in." She said, "Unless, kissing is talking. If that's the case I could talk a lot."
He frowned. "This was a mistake, I should rent a room at Granny's."
"Ford, please. You know the whole pretending the whole thing never happened isn't going to work. You wanted to make love to me tonight, didn't you? Unless, I'm misreading your kiss."
"No, you weren't misreading my signals at all." He said with a sigh, "But you are married and you need to stay married till we get the order finalized."
"I thought Harry said it was a done deal."
"Oh, it almost is." He said, "We just have to get it finalized, I just don't want to give Regina any room to wiggle."
Emma frowned, "I don't think I can stay married to him though."
"You've said that plenty of times already," Ford said. "But be honest with me, Emma, do you really want me?"
She was about to say something but found herself suddenly at a lost of words.
"And I don't mean just physically, I mean really do you want to be with me. Thorns and all."
"I like you Ford," She said.
"Yes, you've told me that. But Emma, I think you only like the good part of me. And love, I'm not a good man. Surely, Graham Cracker has told you that."
"He has," She said. "But I don't care what you've done in the past. I like the man that's been with me."
"But that man's isn't necessary good."
Emma rolled her eyes, "Surely, you don't think I'm the type that believe there is just good and evil. There are shades of gray in all of us, we are all fucked up. God knows, I've made so many mistakes in my life before. Look what I did to Jaime."
"Don't beat yourself about that, love. You made the right decision at the time."
"As I'm sure the decisions you made you thought were right at the time."
He laughed bitterly.
"What? " She said.
"I had a son," He said.
"You had a son?" She asked.
"Right, had. Bae died and it's all my fault."
"Bae? That's an odd name."
Though, she could've sworn she had heard that name somewhere. In the deepest part of her mind she thought she could've recalled it before, but she just couldn't pinpoint when or where for that matter.
Ford sighed. "It's a family name, we tend to pick weird horrible names. At least he didn't get stuck with Rumford. His real name was Baelfire. I made some poor decisions when I was younger, which caused us to become separated. I instantly regretted it and spent years trying to find him, but it didn't matter when I did he was gone. Died a hero. I wonder if I would've found him sooner, if he would still be alive."
"Ford," Emma said. "I—this is why you're so willing to help me isn't it? Why you haven't judged me for abandoning Jaime."
"Emma, you never abandoned Jaime." Ford said, "You had a choice. What I did to Bae though, that was unforgivable."
She shook her head. "It's not working."
"What?"
"What happened between you and your son, it's not pushing me away."
"It's not just Bae. I was horrible to Lacey before her death."
"Really," Emma said. "Because from all accounts it seemed like you loved your wife."
"I did, but—but I told her some things I regret which caused her to get in that car that night."
Emma shook her head.
"I'll hurt you Emma."
She really found that hard to believe. Yes, she knew Ford could be vicious in the courtroom, but the man had done everything to help her since he found her ten years ago.
"I'm no saint either," She finally said. "Look what I'm doing to Harry. I should feel something, anything, or least making the effort too. But all I want is a divorce so I can move on."
"With me."
"Yes, you. I'd rather sleep with you thorns and all than my husband. Makes me a terrible person, doesn't it?"
"No," He said as they started kissing each other and Emma's nausea was long forgotten. In fact, she didn't even feel remotely sick as she stripped off his shirt and admired his lean muscled form. Although, Ford always tried to undermine his looks, he was a very good-looking man.
"Are you sure?" He asked.
She nodded, "That shortbread did wonders. Don't feel sick anymore. You should really sell them to anyone who eats at Granny's."
He laughed, "I'll be going to hell because of this."
"I will be too." Emma said as she felt her kimono being removed.
And then she lost all concentration in thought as Ford's hands began to touch her in ways that she never thought possible were to be touched.
Emma opened her eyes as she heard her phone buzzed, frowning as she noticed daylight was now streaming through the room.
It was already morning?
She turned around, most be since Ford was no longer in her bed. She thought about last night, they had agreed that they were going to try, though obviously they weren't going to go public about it until she could get her divorce. The mere thought of her marriage made her stomach clinch, though with Harry's work schedule she knew she might not see him for days possibly weeks.
Hell, there had been at least a two-week period where she didn't see him after she and Ford had made love for the first time.
"Emma Swan," She said as she picked up the phone frowning when she didn't recognize the number.
"Mrs. Potter," The man on the other phone said. "It is Potter, isn't it? This is Victor Whale."
"Potter's fine," Emma said inwardly grimacing at her last name. It would change soon enough. "What is it, is something the matter with Jaime's blood work?"
"No, no. Everything came back normal. There wasn't any Ambien or any other drug in his system. I'm actually calling about you."
"Me? I told you yesterday, I just had some bad food or maybe a stomach bug."
"That's what I thought too," Whale said. "But remember I did some blood work just to be sure."
Emma nodded, even though the doctor couldn't see her from his end of the phone. She remembered being pocked and prodded on. "Yeah, I don't see—"
"You're pregnant, Ms. Swan."
"That's ridiculous," She said then bit her lip as she thought about that night in the hotel with Ford about a month ago. Surely, they used protection. Most of it she couldn't remember because she was in a haze. Although, she wasn't on the pill. She hadn't been since she had Jaime she had no reason too, since she hadn't been planning on having sex with anyone. But she knew Ford and he used a condom last night.
"Protection isn't always effective." Whale said as if reading her thoughts. "Congratulations, set up an appointment next week and we can do an ultrasound to figure out just how far along you are."
Emma quickly hung up after that, she was not going to make an appointment with Whale that was for sure. If she really was pregnant. Somehow, she didn't quite believe the quack of the doctor. But the four tests she later took that day with all positive signs couldn't lie. She was indeed having Ford's baby while still being Mrs. Harry Potter.