princehonorable | (no subject)

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He's beginning to feel like there's a chance he'll see the makings of a real bed sometime soon. He says that every morning, but he truly believes it. With every passing day, his legs tremble a little less -- he can manage going a little farther -- and the pain doesn't last so long. He can take deeper breaths, he's remembering more, and it's all coming together to make him feel healed. David thinks he actually might be all right.

That still keeps him pent up in the clinic for most nights, just in case he needs a doctor's help before the morning's out. It gets a bit lonely, he won't lie. So, now, as the evening winds down, he has to start thinking about dinner again. Maybe he'll go to the kitchen and see if he can't strike up some conversation with someone else who doesn't have any plans for the evening.

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It's an idea she's had in the making for a few days now, and only recently has she been able to put all the pieces together. The picnic is set up not very far from the clinic - just enough to constitute a short walk, and he'll be able to rest his legs while they eat before having to make the same trip back in the opposite direction. And as far as Mary Margaret is concerned, anything that can get him out and walking is a good idea.

She may or may not have her separate, slightly selfish reasons, but that doesn't stop her from heading over to the clinic as soon as she can, making a beeline straight for him as she enters.

"Come on, up," she declares, affecting a little extra urgency. "There's something I've got to show you."

He's blindsided by her arrival, but she leaves him as speechless as ever -- she has that uncanny ability -- and David stares at her for a long moment, not sure what's going on. "Is something wrong?" he asks worriedly. "Do you need my help? Let me just go get some shoes on and I'll defeat whatever foe is out there."

Mary Margaret almost giggles, but she curbs it back to the form of a small smile, shaking her head quickly. "No, no foes today, as far as I'm aware. I just - I thought we could go for a walk and maybe see if there's anything waiting at the end."

"So long as it isn't a bad surprise," he says, still a bit wary of the unknown, but she's something that he absolutely trusts. He extends a hand out to her, offering a hint of a smile. "Shall we?"

"Would I ever bring you to a bad surprise?" she asks, taking his hand with an equally subtle smile before she tucks his hand through her arm, covering it in one of her own. She knows she still has to pace their walk slowly, but she doesn't mind. It gives her an excuse to talk with him. "How have you been?"

"I don't know. You could be absolutely mischievous," he remarks, a small smile of delight on his face. He takes hold of her hand, walking along the path as they go. "I've been okay. My legs are holding up, though some days are better than others."

"Maybe a little," she agrees, tilting her head slightly, though she draws his arm through hers while they walk, giving him the opportunity to lean on her if the need arises. "How about now? Is today one of the better days? If not, we can always take it a little stretch at a time." Secretly, she hopes that isn't the case, since it would sort of ruin the impact of the surprise.

"No," he insists, a bit stubbornly, but he wants to show off his best side to her. He doesn't want her to think that he can't handle a little bit of adversity when he would brave so much for her -- the one thing, the only thing, that feels real to him. "No, it's just a small degree of pain. I'll manage."

"Okay," she agrees, still eyeing him with a minor note of trepidation - but she isn't about to impose limitations on him because of what she thinks he may not be able to handle. If he wants to try this, then she's not going to stand in the way of letting him. And she'll be here, anyway, in case he needs to stop and take a break. "It's not very far. No more than the distance that one of your normal routes would take you." In fact, they're making faster time than she'd originally predicted - she can recognize one of the trees she'd used as a landmark to remember how to get back to the spread.

"I'd go anywhere if I got to go with you," he swears, genuine and delighted to be walking alongside Mary Margaret at all. He's had fears, ever since that love-struck and strange day, that she would realize that her feelings weren't solely for him, but for other men, as well.

"You say something like that and you might end up in some tricky situations," Mary Margaret teases, resting her fingertips lightly against his bicep in something of a closer hold. "Who knows what kind of dealings we could end up in? I promise not to put your life in too much danger, though." She's joking, but there's a sense that feels more familiar to her, some kind of deja vu.

"If our lives were in danger, I'd fight until the very end," he swears, more devotedly than he's ever sworn to do anything in his life. "You're worth that and so much more," he insists. "But I think our greatest foe will be the weather, here. It rains so often."

"Not on those legs, you wouldn't," she murmurs, gently leaning into him with a tiny smile. "Well, hopefully we can make it there before that happens. I hadn't exactly prepared a contingency plan in case of rain."

"And what's wrong with my legs?" he challenges, knowing the obvious answer, but wanting to tease, nonetheless. "Is that a dare, Mary Margaret? Should I show them off just to see if there's something you like about them, after all?" he teases, reaching down to thread his fingers with hers.

"I should've known you'd be a handful of a patient," Mary Margaret replies, shaking her head. She's used to patients flirting with her; it had happened every now and then back at the hospital in Storybrooke. But it's different when he does it, the words playful enough to make her stomach do flips, and she hides her smile when he takes her hand. "Honestly."

"Honestly," he echoes, mimicking her tone as softly and gently as he can, sliding one hand to the small of her back in a momentary tease that he needs her help to walk along the path. "Well? Are they nice? My legs?"

"Are they? I'm not sure. They're usually so covered up by the time I come around, so I really can't say for sure," Mary Margaret replies, turning his hand over in hers, running her fingertips over the ridges of his knuckles. "Why? Do you honestly want my opinion?"

"Maybe when we arrive at our destination," he says, squeezing her hand gently to assure her that he's not going anywhere. "Where are you taking me?" he asks, a bit wary of what's waiting for them. "I'm not sure how much I like surprises. I can't remember anything, remember?"

"We're closer now," she promises, stealing a glance at their hands, her own taking hold of his a little more. His next question earns a thoughtful hum and a tilt of her head, and she tries to consider what she knows about him already. "I think," she murmurs, "that you like surprises, but only if they're the good kind. And this one definitely is. I hope."

"Only the good kind," he agrees, because there's a tumultuous air that hits him right in the stomach. He doesn't know why, but the notion of being caught off guard strikes him and sends a panic right through his spine. "Tell me where we're going?" he pleads, a desperate look on his face.

"It's okay, David," she replies, frowning at the look of worry that suddenly filters through - for a minute, she thinks he's teasing her, but he's been struggling too much lately to do that and have it be a joke, been remembering so much all at once. "I set up a picnic for us, at the end of the path here. That's all."

He exhales, unaware he's been holding it in up until this very moment. "I don't know why I was getting so tense," he admits, aware that he has a lot wrong with him, but this is just the top of the barrel. "You made us a picnic?"

"I made us a picnic," Mary Margaret says, throwing her free arm out somewhat haplessly as she gives him a small sigh. "And now you know, but you would've found out in about one more minute anyway, because it's right up there, blanket and all."

He reaches out to catch her arm when she gestures in the way she does, a soft look of wonder on his face, like he can't believe this incredible woman before him would do such an amazing thing -- for him. "Mary Margaret," he breathes out, awed by her. "You're incredible."

She looks down at their hands as he utters the words, shaking her head slowly, her smile more bashful than anything else. "It was nothing, I just - I wanted to do something for you, since you've been working so hard lately. For us," she adds, the last two words slightly softer than the rest.