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[ There are some people who, upon coming back to the Tranquility after a year away, Emma just looks for. Her mother chief among them, for even if it's only been moments since they last saw each other in Storybrooke, the trip would be a long one if she'd vanished while Emma was away, as so many do.

It takes some remembering, sorting through her things, letting a second set of new memories come rushing back that she hadn't regained in New York, but she recalls Snow's old room and makes her way there just a short while after the jump. After scoping out the common areas on the floor to little avail, she opts to knock on the room door, getting her hopes up once she finds the door itself is still nanite-locked. ]

[ For Snow, this is just another jump. Although the fact that "just another" is a prefix for "jump" at this point is more than a little alarming if she thinks about it too much. So, she doesn't. She lays on her bed and she reads through a book downloaded to her comm device. When there's a knock on the door, she's glad for the interruption.

And even more glad to be interrupted by: ] Emma!

[ Snow smiles wide and steps to one side to allow her daughter entry into her room, should she like, without being presumptuous that this is a proper social call. ]

To what do I owe the pleasure?

I, uh.

[ Emma's expression flutters into a smile and she nods, stepping inside the room and glancing around it as though she expects something to be different. It's not, of course, but the impulse to re-familiarize herself with the ship remains. ]

I missed you at the jump. Sorry. Wanted to make sure everything was okay with SEC.

[ Once she reaches the middle of the room, she turns, shoulders hunching and arms crossed. ]

I went home. [ For someone like Emma, 'home' carries a hell of a lot more weight than it does for most people aboard the ship. ]

Oh, don't worry about that. It's not like I expect you to check in with me first thing every time.

[ But something's off. Something is off and... Why does Snow suddenly feel as if she's been punched in the heart? ]

You... went home?

[ She's confused. Confused, and jealous, and she shouldn't be the latter. It's good that Emma went home. And bad that she came back, isn't it? It's selfish of Mary Margaret to be glad that her daughter didn't stay gone. Glad that she wasn't left here alone. She feels suddenly like a terrible mother, and a terrible person. ]

I-- What happened?

A lot. New York, the new curse, Zelena, the time portal.

[ She starts to pace a bit, shaking her head as she tries to recount precisely how much went on. Her hands splay out, coming up finally empty but for the most recent, and she drops her hands to her sides as she adds. ]

And Ingrid.

[ Which feels like the hardest part of it all to broach with her mother, her mother who'd been so reluctant to give her up but been forced into it. Talking to her about any part of the happiness she'd found, once upon a time, with Ingrid in the foster system is like twisting a knife in an old wound, but she remembers it now. For however short a time, she was happy, even loved. ]

Any of this ringing bells?

You were headed to New York the last time I saw you, before I arrived here. You and Henry were... forgetting me. Us. Storybrooke.

[ Snow shakes her own head - like daughter, like mother - and looks apologetic. ]

I don't know any of the rest. I'm sorry.

It's okay.

[ A smile lights on her face and she steps closer, wanting to reassure but clearly not positive on how to best reach out, or if it's even welcome. ]

You will. [ Her speech quickens with the passion of certainty. ] We're gonna see each other again: that was not goodbye forever.

[ It hits her like a ton of bricks. Relief. She had held the fear in so long, made it so a part of her that she had forgotten what it was like not to feel it. Forgotten she was feeling it at all. The squeaking sob surprises no one more than herself, one hand coming up quickly to cover her mouth and stifle any further sound. ]

Emma.

[ She wraps her arms around the other woman's shoulders and holds her to her tightly. ]

It hurt so much, giving you up a second time. I'm so sorry. I am so, so sorry.

[ This time, Emma welcomes the hug. Stepping in closer, she wraps her mother up in her arms, shutting her eyes and resting her chin over the other woman's shoulder. The embrace lasts in silence, full of warmth and understanding, for a long moment. Then she pulls back, nodding her encouragement. ]

I know, but you don't have to be. What Regina did—for me, for Henry. She gave us a good life. We were happy.

[ Emma's face is held in Snow's hands when she draws back enough to study her. Her thumbs brush over her cheekbones, then the chin that looks like hers. She tucks away from her face a strand of her hair - blonde like her father's. She doesn't let it overwhelm her often, but everything feels overwhelming at the moment. ]

I'm so glad. That's all I ever wanted for you. I'm just sorry I wasn't able to be the one to give it to you.

[ I'm just worry I wasn't able to be the one to give it to you. It sounds too much like what Neal and Ingrid had told her as they sacrificed themselves. ]

You are, though. She showed me a life where I was … I was happy, I had my family, people I loved. And I have that in Storybrooke. With you, and David, and Killian, and Henry. [ And she couldn't sound more relieved about it. ] It shouldn't have taken me so long to see it.

[ The hug is renewed and it's all she can do not to cry harder. It's not that she pretends that she's not an emotional person, but sometimes she feels like it's all too much. Perhaps especially for Emma, who'd always been so closed off. But... something is different. It's jarring, but in a way that's welcome. ]

Are they all right?

[ She's worried for all of them, but David most of all. Being without him has been like being only half a person. (If only she knew how close to that she is.) But Snow White has a heart big enough for everyone in Storybrooke, and their well-being is certainly on her mind. ]

Yeah. [ Committed, definitive nod. She knows Snow's concern because she'd shared it. ] There was a curse, a spell that brought out the worst in everyone, but we took care of it. Everyone's safe.

Oh, thank goodness.

[ That curse sounds... awful. But also like something she probably doesn't want more details about. Not just yet anyway. If Emma says everyone, then that's what she means, and that means Snow included. Snow knows the darkness that lies in her heart. ]

Is it true that when you go home, it's like you never left? No one's noticed you were ever gone?

True, and true. I was right back on the Jolly Roger. Hell, even I didn't notice I'd been gone. It wasn't until I was back aboard Tranquility that I even remembered I'd been here. [ She shakes her head then. ] Some of it's still coming back.

[ After the first few days, her memories of the ship have settled back in entirely, though much of it still seems far away. Spending a year in New York had distanced her from the Tranquility in much the same way it distanced her from Storybrooke, but she's well beyond her desire to close herself off and run away now.

Quite the opposite, it's with unbridled relief that she makes her way into SCI workspace to come hunting for Charles. A year without your best friend—in a world where you didn't even remember having one—can leave a girl eager for a reunion, and she only feels guilty that it took her this long to track him down.

When she sees him, she crosses the lab in a hurry, features drawn into what is unmistakably a genuine smile, with no attempt to restrain it. ]

I knew I'd find you down here. [ She reaches one hand out to clap him on the shoulder. A moment later, after a brief internal battle with her own instincts, the new, happier Emma wins out, and she moves closer to go for the hug, clapping one hand against his back. ] It's good to see you.

[ The time to say something dry like 'admirable work, detective' comes and goes, because he hesitates instead, knowing there's something different about her even before her hand is on his shoulder and then her arms are around his torso. ]

Oh, hello.

[ Well, sure -- Charles meets hug with responding embrace with only the briefest of uncertain stop-starts before committing. This is already a roller coaster -- first concern that she was in what looked like a rush to talk to him, then all smiles and this.

Before he can ask who died (or who got laid, frankly), realisation crosses easy behind his expression. Uncertain. This again. He doesn't let her go right away as he leans back a touch to look at her. ]

How long?

Edited 2015-01-24 07:14 (UTC)

[ As he draws back, Emma settles her hands on his shoulders, the smile holding on her face as she takes in the familiar sight. He hasn't changed at all—of all the people on board, she'd had the least certainty about him. A decade had passed for him in the blink of an eye, and though he'd begun working his way back to a healthy middle-ground last she'd checked, the change was immense. But he seems the same in all ways that matter. ]

Since I've been on board? More than a year. [ She shakes her head: her feelings on the return are confusing, and hard to describe. Relief and happiness to see them again, to remember what she'd gone through, but also the fear and sadness at losing Henry and her father again. This time, she feels more certain that she'll return to them, that they'll find a way home. ]

[ Uncertainty lists towards tentative approval, the longer Charles studies her. Confusion and mixed sentiment is marked in her manner, but it doesn't seem to have shaken her substantially. Hands holding at her arms squeeze in a friendly form of assurance before letting go. ]

It throws you for a bit of a loop, doesn't it.

[ Which is a hilariously understated way to frame his own experiences, and so his assessment is delivered extra dry and on ice.

With better humour; ]

So you retroactively missed me.

Edited 2015-01-24 12:51 (UTC)

[ At his understatement, she laughs. A nod follows and she rubs his shoulders before dropping her hands as well, turning to briefly glance at his work as she answers. ]

You're on a long list. I spent most of that time with no idea who … who anyone was. Not even my parents. [ Neal and Henry were the only ones who stayed the same. ] It's a long story. [ She nods her head back towards the exit of the lab. ] But if you've got time … [ Willingly ?? ? Offers personal information ? ? ]

[ His work is numbers and data arranged in inexplicable ways on a floating holographic image, and gleams blue and purples back at her, dimming upon idleness. Whatever it is, it's not more important, a temporary crooked smile at her correction softening into obvious interest.

Concern, too. But it seems as though he doesn't have to ask. ]

Of course.

[ He doesn't make a show of being caught off guard -- he collects up his jacket, taps the console to save and quit as if he's used to space age computers at all, and goes to lead them both out, a hand drifting for the small of her back as they step through the threshold in reflective gesture. ]

The chances of your memory loss being a result of clinical amnesia instead of another magical curse being--

Low.

[ And out comes another laugh for his optimism. But she doesn't look as worked up about it as she could be, instead shrugging it off with one easy shoulder. ]

Peter Pan's a real dick.

[ It was his fault, even if it wasn't the way he'd envisioned the Curse going. She tucks her hands snugly into her jacket pockets, turning on one heel to walk alongside him towards the door. ]

We took care of it. Hook found me. [ Saying it still feels surreal. He'd pawned off his ship, made it to New York, risked everything to make sure she could get back to help her family. Could get home. The admission comes with a slightly disbelieving blink that reflects as much. ] Since then, it's been all … Wicked Witch of the West and Snow Queens.

[ She turns to look at him, realizing: ] Did you know Elsa's from my world?

[ Pulling on his jacket as he walks, fairytale namedrops still provoke a hint of a smile, but well used to it by now that that's all, more amused at her assessment than anything else. ]

Peter Pan is psychotic -- I've read that book too. And no, I did not. I'm not well acquainted.

[ Mention of how Emma was whisked away back out of an ordinary life gets a glance, too. Perhaps Hook's come back with new memory. The idea is nice. If they all go home, it's not as though Charles will go back with her, and she seems resolute, now. There's a small amount of jealousy to be had, and it's almost for both of them equally. To rescue, and to be rescued.

Which is when he passes that over and says instead; ]

How's New York forty odd years in the future?

[ She didn't mention New York, out loud, but you know. ]

[ At first, it gets a look of surprise, as Emma processes that the thought certainly hadn't come out aloud. Getting back into the swing of his welcome prying means calling back on emotional muscle memory that she hasn't been exercising for more than a year. Ease settles in a moment later, covered by a look that scolds him wryly. ]

Busy. Hard to raise a kid in. There's this guy who plays the guitar naked in Times Square.

[ Definitely the important stuff. ]

Turns out small-town's more my speed, after all.

[ Wry scolding gets a wry eyebrow lift in turn. Yes, this again. There's an understated nearly-laugh at her assessment of the city, falling a little quiet immediately after.

After a few steps; ]

You didn't talk much about your son, before. Henry.

I did at first.

[ She shakes her head, glancing aside. That's enough to draw weariness over her expression. She'd beaten Charles onto the ship by four jumps, and those weren't good days. Losing Henry, being separated from him, it's still one of the hardest things she's ever had to do. ]

But it wasn't getting me anywhere to just miss him. If I want to get back to him, I have to focus on what's here, right now. That's what's real. [ Which brings up the good question, ] I noticed Ward and Resnik finally made an appearance. I haven't seen either since I boarded, until now. [ Loose definition. ] You get anything useful out of them?

[ Emma shuffles the talking point along; Charles allows it. She isn't wrong, that picking at wounds is no way to get anything done, but perhaps he is more susceptible to complacency than she is, and sometimes needs the reminder. In this instance, he can recognise what is and isn't his place to argue, even in good faith -- he doesn't have children.

So he makes a sound of agreement -- Ward and Resnik, appearing, the first time for them both -- and a sideways glance at the query after anything useful. ]

You know how these things are -- they're mostly what you make of it. I've asked Raven to embargo the data she's collecting about the jumps, though, as Resnik implied that Van Rijn's people might make use of it. Probably to track us down, or understand what they'll find if they board us.

Interestingly, they seemed literally unable to communicate all they wanted to.

[ He sounds reluctantly, grudgingly, like he's coming around to their side, at least in spirit. ]

How's that work? What kind of interference are we talking about?

[ Regardless of the answer, that doesn't sound like a good thing. Any interference at all means they're likely dealing with more parties in play, as Emma sees it, and she had been hoping the answers lay with Ward and Resnik. ]

Depends on who you ask. Ask a wizard, they'll cite however many curses bars a person from being able to speak about certain secrets. Ask a spy, they'll assume that perhaps the network's under surveillance. [ He offers a half-smile. ] Ask a telepath, he might propose mind control.

Professor Snape and I've discussed the possibility, a while back, that the Smiley character communicates in a similar way -- or fails to. Like all the riddles and half-statements everyone fusses over are actually all it can do.

Or it's just frustrating on purpose. I know it's highly manipulative.

Do you think they could both be limited by the same thing, or is Smiley what's limiting Ward and Resnik?

[ Because both seem to be insinuated possibilities in that, so she isn't ruling either out. After all, Charles was the one who'd talked to them first-hand. Emma had been too distracted with her pre-jump protocol to pay attention to the network—a mistake. ]

I'm not ruling either thing out.

[ Echoing, a little, her thoughts. ]

Smiley's got a bit of an ego on him to be answering to some other more powerful source, don't you think?

Same argument could be made for why he wouldn't bother limiting our commanders.

[ There's some irony attached to how she identifies Ward and Resnik as commanders—after all, they haven't been commanding anything for the entire year and a half she's been here. ]

Which I guess is what makes it hard to rule anything out. [ Reaching up, she scratches her chin thoughtfully. ] Let's take a look back over the previous broadcasts. Now that we know something's holding them back, maybe there'll be hints to what it is in the earlier communications.

The department's fresh out of interns lately, else I'd have one transcribe everything for us. [ But that's agreement. Pursuing angles is as good as anything when it comes to having something to do. ] Are you certain we can't poach you from Tyke's clutches?

[ That has the affect of a joke, anyway. Security has its use, arguably more use in the every day than the research division in their bat cave. They poach no one. ]

Mm. Me in a lab, sounds like a good way to end up with a lot of broken beakers and misrepresented samples.

[ Maybe that's the self efficacy born out of opting for her GED after she ran away from home talking, but Emma stands firmly by the statement. And she doesn't feel compelled to get into the SEC debate, or drag up how understaffed they are as well. Better to focus on self-deprecating humor. ]

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for snow

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for charles

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i had to double take bc raven looks a lot like emma in that icon

heh heh

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