OUaT FIC :: "Safe" [unrequited Regina/Emma, PG]
Title: Safe
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: PG
Pairing: unrequited Regina/Emma
Date Written: 29 October 2012
Word Count: 510
Written for: onceuponaland's Round 3 Bingo challenge
Prompt: high heels
Summary: There's a specific sound for every shoe known to mankind.
Spoilers: Just consider all of S1 fair game in this one.
Warnings: Minor mention of possible child/sexual abuse.
Website: ShatterStorm Productions - Doggie Duo
Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Author’s Disclaimer: "Once Upon a Time," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Adam Horowitz, Edward Kitsis, Kitsis/Horowitz, and ABC Studios. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Once Upon a Time," ABC, or any representatives of the actors.
Author’s Notes: Jane Espenson is a goddess for having her random writing sprints on Twitter. This got written during one. Woot!! This went in a totally different direction than I'd initially intended, but I'm totally okay with that.
Dedication: My muses, as always…
Beta: Not beta'd, so all mistakes are entirely my fault. Point 'em out in constructive criticism and I'll fix 'em.
"Safe"
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter
There's a specific sound for every shoe known to mankind. Each shoe sounds different on every possible surface it can walk upon. No two people can make a shoe sound the same. Emma had learned this over the twenty-eight years of her life, always keeping an ear out for the others in her foster homes. Especially the older boys and men. She hated them the most. It was worse when they wouldn't wear shoes. Stocking feet were harder to hear, even on the lumbering drunken assholes that thought she was a paycheck and a free piece of ass.
It wasn't until she landed in prison that she learned just how valuable her little trick was. Even more than her superpower, she could keep an ear out on everyone that came anywhere near her on the floor. The only times they weren't allowed shoes was in the shower or when they slept. She could always hear them coming. Hell, some of them she could hear barefoot in the showers. That had saved her a lot of hassle, especially considering how many of the scarier, butch girls wanted to forcibly remove her baby from her body. She'd heard all the horror stories, because they would tell her any time they could corner her alone for even thirty seconds.
It wasn't until she moved to Storybrooke that she realized she was still relying on that trick, still totally on guard when her back was exposed to others. Every time someone came up behind her, even those she implicitly trusted like Henry or Mary Margaret, she'd tense up and think back to those scary, lonely days growing up in the system, before and after getting arrested. She was sure she had even Mary Margaret fooled about the panicky distrust issues she'd grown up with, but she couldn't be absolutely certain. So she always managed to find a way to keep her back to the wall, allowing her the opportunity to watch everyone approaching her.
It takes three months after Graham died, three months of being the Sheriff, before she realizes that the one person everyone says she shouldn't trust is the one person she does trust. The second she hears those disgustingly expensive heels clicking across the floor, she loses her wariness. It's like someone flips a switch and she can relax in her skin. She doesn't understand it, not at all, and she certainly doesn't tell anyone else about it. Somehow she doesn't think that Henry or Mary Margaret would be very pleased to know that she had to force herself to drop her guard around them when they snuck up behind her, intentionally or not.
But this one woman, with her expensive shoes that click out a certain rhythm her heart attunes to when she hears it, breaks down all of her barriers. It scares the hell out of her that she can trust this evil bitch of a woman, but she does. She just doesn't know if it's returned or not.
Oddly enough, there's a part of her that doesn't care.
Original post @ Dreamwidth with
comments. Commenting is welcome on either post.
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: PG
Pairing: unrequited Regina/Emma
Date Written: 29 October 2012
Word Count: 510
Written for: onceuponaland's Round 3 Bingo challenge
Prompt: high heels
Summary: There's a specific sound for every shoe known to mankind.
Spoilers: Just consider all of S1 fair game in this one.
Warnings: Minor mention of possible child/sexual abuse.
Website: ShatterStorm Productions - Doggie Duo
Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Author’s Disclaimer: "Once Upon a Time," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Adam Horowitz, Edward Kitsis, Kitsis/Horowitz, and ABC Studios. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Once Upon a Time," ABC, or any representatives of the actors.
Author’s Notes: Jane Espenson is a goddess for having her random writing sprints on Twitter. This got written during one. Woot!! This went in a totally different direction than I'd initially intended, but I'm totally okay with that.
Dedication: My muses, as always…
Beta: Not beta'd, so all mistakes are entirely my fault. Point 'em out in constructive criticism and I'll fix 'em.
"Safe"
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter
There's a specific sound for every shoe known to mankind. Each shoe sounds different on every possible surface it can walk upon. No two people can make a shoe sound the same. Emma had learned this over the twenty-eight years of her life, always keeping an ear out for the others in her foster homes. Especially the older boys and men. She hated them the most. It was worse when they wouldn't wear shoes. Stocking feet were harder to hear, even on the lumbering drunken assholes that thought she was a paycheck and a free piece of ass.
It wasn't until she landed in prison that she learned just how valuable her little trick was. Even more than her superpower, she could keep an ear out on everyone that came anywhere near her on the floor. The only times they weren't allowed shoes was in the shower or when they slept. She could always hear them coming. Hell, some of them she could hear barefoot in the showers. That had saved her a lot of hassle, especially considering how many of the scarier, butch girls wanted to forcibly remove her baby from her body. She'd heard all the horror stories, because they would tell her any time they could corner her alone for even thirty seconds.
It wasn't until she moved to Storybrooke that she realized she was still relying on that trick, still totally on guard when her back was exposed to others. Every time someone came up behind her, even those she implicitly trusted like Henry or Mary Margaret, she'd tense up and think back to those scary, lonely days growing up in the system, before and after getting arrested. She was sure she had even Mary Margaret fooled about the panicky distrust issues she'd grown up with, but she couldn't be absolutely certain. So she always managed to find a way to keep her back to the wall, allowing her the opportunity to watch everyone approaching her.
It takes three months after Graham died, three months of being the Sheriff, before she realizes that the one person everyone says she shouldn't trust is the one person she does trust. The second she hears those disgustingly expensive heels clicking across the floor, she loses her wariness. It's like someone flips a switch and she can relax in her skin. She doesn't understand it, not at all, and she certainly doesn't tell anyone else about it. Somehow she doesn't think that Henry or Mary Margaret would be very pleased to know that she had to force herself to drop her guard around them when they snuck up behind her, intentionally or not.
But this one woman, with her expensive shoes that click out a certain rhythm her heart attunes to when she hears it, breaks down all of her barriers. It scares the hell out of her that she can trust this evil bitch of a woman, but she does. She just doesn't know if it's returned or not.
Oddly enough, there's a part of her that doesn't care.
Original post @ Dreamwidth with
comments. Commenting is welcome on either post.