Chapter Text
Emma curls her hands tightly around her drink, idly focusing on how the condensation pools against her fingers and drains down towards the counter of the table top she's been sitting at for the past two hours. Darkness had already settled in outside, the noises from the sprawling city of New York a constant reminder that they weren't in Storybrooke anymore. It's such a contrast, something Emma had missed sorely in her first few years in the deceptively quaint magical town in Maine. But now she finds herself longing for it, longing for those days and the monotone of it all in particular.
But she abruptly tucks that thought away, doesn't let her mind venture into it.
They'd just face down Gold, got magic back to the world and their entire family back safe and sound from another realm.
It's something that should fill Emma with glee, but she can't even begin to describe the depressive thoughts curling in her mind as she quantifies the losses they've suffered. Particularly now as she obsessively observes the blatant difference in how Regina carries herself.
This latest misadventure had taken a lengthy time to deal with. And before they'd all known it, it had been exactly a month since the death and burial of Robin Hood - something Emma wasn't sure how or why she remembered. Regina was likely still in mourning. Emma couldn't forget the look that crossed her face when tracking Henry and Violet had led them to Neal's apartment and she'd found an old letter from Hood addressed to her. It had sent Regina spiraling into an abyss of self-loathing. And Emma just couldn't have that.
"Don't you see that just means that your happy ending is still somewhere out there?" She'd said when it looked like Regina was going to start openly crying at that letter.
Regina had looked up at her with those sad dark eyes and such a melancholic smile and said. "There is no happy ending for me, Emma."
"I don't believe that." Emma'd fiercely rebutted, shakily curling a hand over Regina's.
Regina had chuckled mirthlessly and shook her head, curling her fingers through Emma's. "Well here's your proof." She shook the letter, almost tearing into it with the force of her frustration. "Everyone I get close to dies."
Hood was someone Emma never truly accepted into the fold. She couldn't shake the distrust she'd amassed against him ever since he just showed up during that missing year when she and Henry were cursed to Boston with no purpose other than constantly shadowing Regina.
And then they'd been told the pixie dust story. Which all sounded way too ridiculous for Emma to even take seriously. But apparently Regina did.
Emma had quietly observed him after that. For a soulmate, she thought he seemed too flaky with his affections, especially when a copy of his wife had arrived in the form of Zelena.
And that entire messy situation that led him to choosing Marian/Zelena and having a kid with her, only to then grovel back to Regina when the truth was exposed. But by then the damage had already been done, and yet...Regina took him back. That had made Emma's dislike for him grow in waves.
The only thing he really had going for him was the fact that his son was adorable and Emma couldn't exactly bring herself to mess with what Regina had deemed as her own happy ending.
It had filled her with a sort of depressing sadness she couldn't exactly wrap her mind around. And now that he was no longer present, Emma wasn't ashamed to say that she didn’t miss him one bit. She appreciated his sacrifice, realizing that they could have lost Regina had Hood's flaky nature out-won his sense of morality.
Hood's last letter had Regina admitting that she would never be at peace with herself wondering if she should become the Evil Queen again because she felt cursed she would never find redemption. She'd admitted to realizing that the more good that she does, the more people she loses.
Emma had gone oddly silent at that admission, especially when Regina had looked so defeated. And now, sitting at this bar looking at Regina practically unfurling at the edges, she feels entirely helpless about the entire situation.
That conflict about the Evil Queen had led to an impulsive decision when Snow had presented Regina with the rest of the serum Dr Jekyll had given to her. Because Regina had admitted that she couldn't deal with that internal battle raging within her any longer. She's suffered too much, lost too much, and that little bit of happiness that Emma can begrudgingly admit that Robin had provided if only minutely, was suddenly gone too.
Regina was different now. Way different than the Mayor Emma met a few years ago. The regal strut, the poise, the composure of the Queen suddenly gone due to the split they'd witnessed an hour ago on a random rooftop in New York City.
She sits with her shoulders a little hunched forward, her eyes fixated at some point on the surface of the table they were seated at in some random bar in the city as she loses herself within her thoughts.
And her face -- oh her face.
Emma had always found Regina's face to be so expressive, especially those dark eyes. She could shut everyone and everything out with just a twist to her lips or an arch to her brow, guarding her feelings like a well-kept secret. It was unnerving. But as Emma looks at her now, Regina was no longer a mystery. She's an open book, visibly shaken, confused and anxious especially if the way she keeps wringing her fingers tightly together is anything to go by.
Getting rid of the Queen had taken a lot away from her and they’d been walking on eggshells with her all evening, determined not to send her spiraling into the abyss of guilt she was no doubt teetering on the edge of.
The split had been something so surreal to witness, especially with the way that inky serum Snow had injected into Regina's arm had driven her to near hysteria. And Emma had had to grit her own teeth and clench her fists to visibly restrain herself from magicking the stupid thing away, serum be damned.
Regina had wanted it, had expressed the horrors of being so conflicted within her own mind. But bearing witness to the pain Regina had endured of literally tearing herself in two distinctive halves had shaken Emma.
The Queen had goaded Regina in response, heckled her, jabbing at every weak spot she could exploit with the finesse of her intimate knowledge. It had given her power over Regina and Emma had had enough of it.
Regina, now's your chance, destroy her. She'd said those words when Regina had seemed immovable, frozen to the spot as she stared at what she'd dubbed her own personal monster.
Regina had held the Queen's gaze then, unwavering, but pained and Emma had heard her apologize before crushing the heart of the Queen, her own heart, to dust. Emma's mind was just morbid enough to think that that act alone had taken committing suicide to the next level.
Regina had made this sacrifice for herself, but mostly for them....for the family they'd created. A family she now held so closely to her heart that Emma knew she could never truly let them go.
It was Regina's decision. But that didn't mean it was a good one. Emma understood on an intimate level the allure of the darkness and how it beckoned during her brief phase as the dark one. She understood those conflicting feelings that had Regina trapped within that cycle of good and evil she'd described to Emma. Emma was amazed at her resilience, her resistance to it, her determination to fight it. To do good. To be good. That took an insane amount of courage and Emma admired the strong woman Regina had become.
But was throwing away parts of yourself you deemed unworthy really the way to deal with one's darkness?
Emma doesn't have the answer. That's why the split with the Queen had left her uncomfortable. Watching Regina lose herself within her own internal despair, the steel wall of her façade removed exposing her vulnerabilities to all who gaze upon her makes her feel all the more useless.
So a few hours earlier, Emma, Regina and Snow had piled into the nearest pub in the city, sending the rest of the guys back home. A couple of shots later, Snow had taken the reins of the conversation seamlessly and they'd both let her, knowing the woman could carry on full blown conversations on her own.
Sitting here watching Regina practically fold in on herself, nursing the now empty glass of some fancy expensive fruity drink she barely cares to remember and watching her sink into despair, Emma wants to do something. To help somehow. She'd thought that they were at least fine -- Regina had said she was, and they'd all accepted it. Emma knows for a fact that she isn't.
Snow didn't seem to notice the sullen mood of her present company, downing her own drinks with such gusto that it had Emma a bit concerned for her usually mild mannered mother. She'd eventually gotten up to use the restroom and without her as a buffer, the mood had immediately dampened.
Emma however, had had enough. Amidst the pulsing of music and the gyrating of sweaty bodies, she was glad they had taken the table at the furthest point from any point of activity. Steeling herself, she reaches out ever so slowly, not daring to pause and rethink her actions as she places a hand on the one Regina has gripping her glass like a lifeline.
Even though she was sitting right next to Emma, Regina startles. And as dark guilt stricken eyes met hers, Emma's heart practically quivers in her chest.
"Hey, are you okay?" She asks, having to practically shout the question over the loud obnoxious music.
Regina smiles, tight and pained and nods mutely, swallowing the remnants of her drink and placing the glass back on the table. Emma mentally berates herself for the stupid question.
"I'm fine." Regina verbalizes her reply when Emma keeps staring and Emma just raises an unimpressed eyebrow, especially when a really silly grin steals across the woman's face. She sighs a second later, scooting just a bit closer and leaning over to speak directly into Emma’s ear.
"Are you okay?" Regina asks softly, and Emma grunts in reply, nodding back quickly as she returns her hands to her lap. Emma’s suddenly a bit fidgety at Regina’s close proximity as her mind obsessively compares the handful of times they’ve ever truly been this close to each other. She squashes that train of thought immediately and twists her body so she’s facing Regina.
"You're deflecting." Emma says, even though she was guilty of doing the same exact thing. She’d had a fight with Hook on the way back that had made her yearn for some time away from him and she had jumped at the chance to send him ahead with David and Henry. They were here for Regina, giving her a reprieve from Storybrooke and magic but if Emma was being honest, she suggested the idea a little selfishly. "How are you feeling?"
"Honestly?" Regina asks. Emma nods. "I have no idea."
"Must be weird." Emma comments dryly.
"Indeed." Regina laughs, sharp and stiff and picks up Emma's drink this time, the half empty beer bottle that she’d grimaced at when Emma had insisted they all have something lighter rather than chugging back shot after shot. “At first I felt…free, like this heavy oppressing weight had lifted. But—” Regina eyes the remainder of the amber coloured liquid before downing the rest of it in one gulp. Emma raises an eyebrow, especially when Regina's hand visibly shakes as she places the bottle back down, a grimace stealing across her face.
"Tastes better when it’s colder." Emma offers unhelpfully.
"I can't imagine why you'd possibly think that." Regina says, this time picking up the remains of Snow's equally fruity drink. "Gods, I don't think I've ever tasted something more vile."
"Oookayy, now I'm cutting you off." Emma says, making a grand show as she takes Snow's glass from Regina's hands and places it on the other side of their table.
Regina glares. But, this time Emma can't help but notice the difference. It has no bite to it, no overpowering strength. Nothing that sends a shiver of anticipation for a weighty confrontation down Emma's spine. It's as intimidating as a puppy’s and gone a second later and Emma can't exactly process why that makes her sad. Or what must be going on inside Regina’s mind.
Regina blinks sluggishly, sways a little in her seat and chuckles dryly a second later. "I think you're right." She says quietly, and Emma doesn't even have the heart to heckle her about that statement. She'd never once, in their tentative friendship, admitted that Emma was right, about anything.
A silence falls between them then, and Emma fishes her buzzing phone from her pocket and notices a message from the WhatsApp group Henry had created a few months back titled "Moms".
Henry and David had been roped into some secret mission which Killian wasn’t open to sharing with Emma after he had practically stormed out on her during their little spat for all to see right in front of the Bethesda fountain. That was a few minutes after they’d been portaled into New York City from the land of untold stories. She had made certain that mission didn't involve her underage kid being introduced to the woes of alcohol. Regina had been a little out of it when she'd agreed that Henry could go, but Emma knew that if she only smelt a drop of alcohol on him, she'd be eviscerated, regardless of the lack of Evil Queen behind it.
Staying at gramps tonight the text reads, and Emma shoots him a quick reply of compliance after showing the message to Regina. The brunette agrees, a little slur to her words now that Emma notices. She frowns, not liking the fact that Regina would be alone in that big mansion on her own, and clearly intoxicated. Usually Regina could drink her under a bus and still remain as prim and proper as ever. But now, after a couple of shots and mixed drinks, she was just so out of it. It just doesn't sit right with Emma, not after tonight, not after the way Regina was slowly drowning in her own guilt.
I'll be at the mansion she types, getting an immediate response from Henry that he'd pass on the message to Hook. She stiffens a little, realizing she hadn't even thought about her own house or her own plans with her boyfriend.
Things between them were more than a little strained ever since the whole dark one soul sacrificing thing and the hell rescuing fiasco. He’d been goading her into making them a permanent fixture for a while now and that was what their earlier spat was about. Little by little he was slowly integrating himself into her house, leaving some of his little trinkets and jackets, and dropping not so subtle hints about him moving in that had Emma bristling and avoiding the topic like the plague whenever it came up in conversation.
It was a big step to take, and the fact that she was so apprehensive about it spoke volumes even as the guilt about it gnawed at her. He was constantly bombarding her, whether it be with words of proclamations of love, his happy ending or this pressure of moving in and Emma was so frustrated with herself and him that she’d demanded some time to herself. She was a lot better about reciprocating now, but still reserved with her words of affection.
“Did I ever tell you that I love you?”
Emma's head jerks up abruptly from her phone, startled at the words that leave Regina's mouth.
"Whoa, someone's a little drunk." She chuckles, ignoring the way her heart flips at the words.
Regina fixes her with such a serious look then, one so concentrated that Emma has trouble really believing she was tipsy.
"No, I mean it." She says quietly, reaching out and curling her fingers into Emma's on top of the table. Emma forces herself not to jump and shy away from the touch but she fails miserably. Regina doesn’t seem deterred. She just shakes her head and repeats herself. "I love you."
Emma can't explain it but the minute those words spill from Regina's lips they wrap around her heart like a cool protective balm. It's insane how she's immediately emotional over it, like maybe she's a little drunk too.
She smiles, feels it wobble a little and ducks her head in embarrassment when her vision blurs and the damning tears slide down her cheek. Regina smiles, soft and dreamlike and drapes an arm over her shoulder as she pulls her into a side hug.
It's with a startled revelation that Emma feels the same words burning against her own tongue, threatening to spill out. But she curls an arm around Regina’s waist in response, squeezes her just a little tighter as she closes her eyes and calmly breathes.
This is how Snow finds them when she returns from the restroom a questionable amount of time later, snuggled into each other with tears on their cheeks. She doesn't ask anything, just picks up their bags, hands them their jackets, and they all leave.
Regina sluggishly raises her head from its perch on Snow's shoulder as she’s shaken into consciousness. She blinks up owlishly at the woman as Snow’s soft mothering whispers lets her know that they were in the back of her Mercedes.
“We’ve just crossed the townline.” Snow says and a shiver immediately washes over Regina’s entire body, something that tingles at the base of her neck and down her arms and she sits up jerkily. It's a little bit unsettling, especially with the way that she could swear that Snow's eyes glow a bit strangely.
She blinks heavily as Snow places a gentle palm against her cheek.
"She's really out of it." Snow comments as if Regina wasn't looking directly at her. She frowns, tries to jerk her head out of Snow’s hands but fails miserably when the woman just pulls her back into her arms. It’s a tad bit humiliating, but Regina can’t for the life of her even will herself to care right now as her eyes flutter shut.
"I know." Emma replies, sounding so far away that Regina has to strain to hear her voice. “I’m staying with her tonight."
The rest of their conversation plays off in the background of Regina’s sluggish mind and she internally berates herself for getting this intoxicated.
She’s helped to her room and into something a little more comfortable by Snow and vaguely remembers telling them both she didn’t need any babysitters before sleep claims her.
Regina awakens to the scent of a literal feast wafting up from her kitchen. Her eyes flutter open groggily as she rises on the bed and grimaces at the pain that lances through her forehead.
“Morning mom, Emma said to give you these when you’re finally up.” Henry says as he comes bumbling into her room. He walks on over to the side of her bed and drops two Advil and a glass of water into her palms.
“Goodmorning.” She smiles at her son, grateful for the Sheriff’s forethought as she takes the pills and downs it. “What’s going on in my kitchen?” She asks, handing the glass back to Henry.
He grins at her, a little mischievous twinkle to his eyes as he helps her up. “Ma’s making breakfast.”
And that’s still a little new to her -- Emma inviting herself over without invitation. It had started a few months back, curiously around the same time that Henry had started calling her mom and Emma ma. It’s a sweet little distinction that she’s oddly thankful for as she brushes a hand through her intuitive little boy’s hair and presses a kiss against his forehead -- well, not so little since she didn’t have to bend to reach his forehead anymore.
He scrunches up his face at the show of affection but takes her hand and carefully leads her down the stairs and into the kitchen.
And she comes face to face with the back of Emma Swan, who was clearly wearing one of her frilly aprons and expertly moving around her kitchen as she hums a strange tune. It’s truly a sight to behold, one that stuns her with its novelty as she makes her way over to the stove and sighs blissfully as the scent of apple pancakes and omelets hits her.
“Never took you for the cooking type.” She drawls idly and Emma jumps when she finally notices how close Regina is to her back and practically stumbles as she shifts away.
Emma gives a tight little laugh, pressing a palm over her chest as she removes the earbuds from her ears.
“Jesus, you scared me.”
“I am no God, Miss Swan. But I can see why you’d think that.” Regina smirks and Emma rolls her eyes. “But you’re deflecting from the real question, your cooking abilities.”
Emma smiles, it’s one that alights her eyes as she reaches over to the kitchen island. It’s only then that Regina notices three plates with fluffy pancakes topped off with strawberries as Emma sticks a fork into one and tears off a piece.
“Taste it before you drag it.” Emma says and Regina eyes the pancake wryly.
Henry chuckles as he sits himself on a stool at the kitchen island. “Go on mom, it’ll surprise you.”
“If I die my will is in the vault Henry dear. This house and everything I own belongs to you.” Regina says dramatically and Emma huffs and places the fork back down on the plate.
“You don’t deserve my pancakes.” Emma mutters sullenly as Henry laughs and fist pumps over his eventual inheritance perks. Regina takes a small step towards the Sheriff who automatically takes a step back. It’s a bit unnerving -- something she’d notice Emma doing often lately. Even when they’d been in that apartment in New York where she’d found Robin’s last letter to her and Emma had tried to reassure her that she was good.
She reaches over, purposefully making sure that her hand crosses the one Emma’s still got perched on the counter as she takes the fork with the piece of pancake stuck to it. Emma’s eyes intriguingly follow her actions as she brings it closer to her face, twisting it at every angle to take in its consistency and finally to her nose for a curiously sensual scent test as she allows her eyes to flutter shut. It smells like apples, just like Emma said and she begrudgingly opens her eyes.
“Goddamn Regina just freaking eat it.” Emma grumbles petulantly and Regina allows a small smile to tug at the corner of her lips as she pops the piece of pancake into her mouth.
It’s warm and curiously flavored, that rich apple taste melting in her mouth telling her that it was a far cry from being artificial and she moans a little when that apple cinnamon syrup it had been dipped in at the end bursts across her tongue. She licks her lips, catching Emma’s eyes as her stomach grumbles approvingly. Emma nervously bites down on her own lip in response and her own eyes can't help but follow. She clears her throat a little, focusing on the task at hand. The recipe was definitely familiar but she can detect the twist to it and she wonders how Emma had gotten her hands on it.
“Where did you learn how to cook like that?” She asks a little breathlessly and Emma ducks her head, a shy little flush dusting across her cheeks as she turns back towards the stove and coyly shrugs a shoulder.
“Those memories I could never quite express the magnitude of thankful I am that you gifted to me during the missing year.” She mutters, a little embarrassed as Regina raises an eyebrow. “And obviously I added in the cinnamon part. I hope that’s okay?”
“Oh…” And Regina halts a little as those dark green eyes vulnerably hold hers. “It’s quite the improvement.” She says and Emma’s blinding smile shouldn’t have her stomach in absolutely contented whirls like it does. She abruptly clears her throat and glances over at their son who’s already halfway through his stack of pancakes, a messy swatch of syrup dripping down his chin.
“I swear you’d think I never raised you on my own for ten years when you eat just like your mother.” Regina grumbles, taking the stool next to Henry and reaching forward to wipe the excess syrup off of his chin.
He grins and Emma brings over the omelets to them which he immediately shuffles over to add to his plate. Regina shakes her head as Emma laughs and slides over her plated pancakes.
“Ma’s the bottomless pit.” Henry protests, shoving literally an entire half of the giant omelette into his mouth.
“Clearly you’ve inherited the trait.”
Emma laughs and Regina raises an eyebrow as she pours them all glasses of orange juice.
“Hey you going to that party thing this evening?” Emma asks from her perch on the other side of the kitchen island. Regina hums, perching herself back on the stool and glancing over at the blonde who had curiously sat herself too far away.
Regina had gotten so used to just having Emma at her side whenever they did breakfast like this that she's a bit startled at the sudden change.
But she shakes off the stray thought to consider her question for a bit. The residents of Storybrooke practically threw a party every time a disaster was averted and this time was no different.
It's something that had become a bit of a tradition and Regina debates whether or not she could skip it. Henry is also against it apparently, protesting the need for a party which Regina vehemently agrees with but finds oddly suspicious coming from him.
“Come on mom.” He says as he digs into another of Emma’s fluffy pancake creations. “We always hang out there. What are we going to do? Sit and stare at the same people all night?”
“As much as I agree with you, Snow has requested our presence and you know how she gets about these events.”
Henry rolls his eyes, curling his fingers around his glass of orange juice. “I guess I can reschedule with Violet.”
“Violet.” Regina raises an eyebrow, still not used to hearing Henry speak so openly about his girlfriend. “Wouldn’t you just see her tonight?”
Henry rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “We had something planned.”
“Oh the stargazing thing.” Emma wiggles her brows obnoxiously, talking around a mouthful of pancakes. Regina shoots her a mildly disapproving look to which Emma just sticks her tongue out at her and then proceeds to down her entire glass of juice.
“I think it’s a lovely idea.” Regina says softly as she takes a delicate bite of her own pancakes, sighing in absolute bliss as her eyes catch Emma’s. Emma’s eyes linger just a tad bit too long on her as she takes another bite and suddenly Regina’s face burns and she has the odd urge to look away.
“Yeah I’ve coordinated the constellations that’ll be directly over Storybrooke when we finally get to have our outdoor date.” Henry says and they both turn to observe the light blush that covers their son’s cheeks.
Emma chuckles. “Romance for nerds.”
“It isn’t nerdy.” Henry protests. And as he lifts his juice to his lips he loses his smile so suddenly that Regina’s back to being concerned. “But I’m just not in the mood to be at the diner tonight.” His gaze shifts to Emma. “Hook called for you by the way.”
Emma loses her smile so swiftly that Regina can’t believe the mood in the kitchen has just done a complete one eighty.
“Thanks kid.” She grunts, picking at the remnants of her pancakes now with a tight press to her lips.
And as if announcing Emma’s other obligations, her phone begins to buzz on the counter top, eliciting glares from the three kitchen occupants.
Emma sighs heavily and picks it up. No sooner had she swiped her thumb across the pad to answer the call had an annoyed “Where the bloody hell are you?! ” blasted through her phone.
Emma grimaces. “You know where I am. Henry told you last night.” And her eyes shift over to Regina and Henry as she chucks a thumb over her shoulder indicating she’d take the phone call out in the hall.
It still doesn’t help the fact that Regina and Henry hear every word. Hook was insisting that usually by now she was at work and he had arrived there and didn’t see her and Emma...Emma was actually apologizing.
Regina sticks her fork into her own pancake stack and savagely tears into it, her stomach suddenly rebelling as she hears the lovely couple having a spat on the phone.
That had been frequent lately. She remembers the fight they’d had just yesterday. The way they’d snarled at each other over who the hell knows what.
Regina wasn’t listening. She was still trying to justify her own reasons for her split with the Queen. She had yet to think up a valid argument that totally justified her own actions to herself. Except, she hadn’t had a moment's reprieve since the ordeal and it was clear that her family was concerned about her. So that made it a bit more difficult for her to accurately pinpoint the exact emotions she was feeling over it.
But guilt - oh that one came in waves. The Queen was dead and it was all Regina’s doing.
It was better like this. Better for Storybrooke. Better for their family...
“I told you I’ll be there I -- no, I’m in the middle of something, I’m not going to poof on over at the -- oh wow that’s real mature.” Emma’s voice cuts into her introspective thoughts and Regina glances up just as she sees Henry’s fist clench against his fork.
She reaches over and touches his clenched fist and it unfurls easily against hers as she takes his hand and his worried eyes find hers. She shares the sentiment, obviously as her own eyes shift over to observe the tensed form of Emma pacing in the hallway.
The conversation doesn’t go on long. Emma’s voice rises a couple octaves and suddenly cuts off when the line goes dead. She remains out in the hall, staring at the device, her back towards them and Regina shifts a little uneasily when she turns suddenly, phone clenched tightly in her hands.
“I guess I’ll see you guys later.” Emma says as she comes back into the room, a little twist to her lips that she was trying to pass off as a smile.
“Are you sure?” Regina feels the need to ask. To give Emma a choice in this matter.
Emma laughs, sharp and a little strained and just nods meekly. She magics her leather jacket and jeans on along with her boots that she frowns disapprovingly at.
“Ah, sorry didn’t think that last one through. I’ll just make those dirty tracks vanish from off the rug.” And before Regina can protest, Emma pats Henry on the arm and immediately turns on her heel, taking off for the front door.
“Ma!” Henry calls and he rushes on over towards her. Regina follows them, heart aching and drawn to them both as Henry, their intuitive son, pulls Emma into a hug which she seems to gratefully sink into.
“I’m okay kid, really.” She sighs heavily against his temple, dropping a brief kiss there as she shakily holds onto him.
“Thanks for picking me up at the loft this morning.” Henry says and Emma pulls away with a more genuine smile then and affectionately pats Henry on the cheek before her eyes flit on over towards Regina.
Regina clears her throat a little and reaches out, tentatively brushing a hand along Emma’s shoulder. And she fuzzily remembers a genuinely slurred I love you from the day before that her face curiously burns at, especially when Emma stills as their eyes meet. Regina almost can’t take the aching sadness they display. It confuses her and she offers a wan smile.
“Want me to drop off lunch at the station?” She asks. It’s something they’d continued doing quite a few months back. Emma had started it when the Chernabog was wreaking havoc on Storybrooke and Regina hadn’t questioned it when she’d continued doing it. Instead, she’d curiously followed along and this was actually the first time she was voicing bringing Emma lunch.
Emma tilts her head and smiles so beautifully Regina’s breath catches in her throat.
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” She says and Regina doesn’t have a witty retort to that as Emma pats her on the hand she’s still got clutching Emma’s arm like a lifeline and suddenly she’s gone in a curl of white smoke.
Zelena comes by her office just as she’s scheduled to take her lunch break, a little later than she’d intended, baby Robyn asleep in her stroller.
“Good, you’re still here. I need to talk to you.” She says, magicking a seat right in front of Regina’s desk.
Regina sighs heavily, lifting her tired eyes from the files clutched a little too tightly in her hands. She'd spent the entire morning stuck in fiscal budget meetings and re-discussing if the town covered accidental property destruction due to magic being sucked out of Storybrooke in a whirlwind by Gold’s shard of the olympian crystal or that unstable portal Zelena had created with the Apprentice's wand.
Her sister had done it to return Merida and the Camelot residents to their homes (and also sent the Merry Men back to the Sherwood Forest for Roland to grow up there) just in case magic had gotten destroyed.
But the portal had dragged Zelena, Snow, David, and Hook into it because of the magic tied to the crystal and placed them in the land of untold stories that they’d been rescued from the day before. The portal, though messy, was all done in good conscience -- Zelena was trying to change, but Regina resented the fact that she now had to deal with the mess left behind.
Everything had managed to work itself out and Regina was grateful for her sister’s plan -- especially where Roland was concerned. It eased some of the guilt she carried in her heart about his father sacrificing himself for her and leaving him an orphan. Tracking Gold down in the huge sprawling cities had taken quite some time and by the time everything was resolved, Regina realized startlingly the day before that it had already been a solid month since Robin had died.
The Mills sisters had both suffered huge losses with that recent blow to Storybrooke. A pixiedust approved soulmate and the Queen for Regina and a twisted true love for Zelena.
“Did you hear me?” Zelena asks a little irritably, her eerily green eyes focusing on Regina with such seriousness she immediately sits up a little straighter. Zelena’s eyes soften a bit as they’d begun doing lately and she reaches out tentatively, placing her hand on Regina’s. “You’re thinking about Robin again, aren’t you?” She says quietly.
And Regina pulls her hand away. Her emotions where Robin was concerned were too frayed around the edges. Too jumbled and fraught with guilt for her to really be able to sort them out now. So she clears her throat abruptly, her eyes falling softly on her sleeping niece as she asks Zelena. “What do you want?”
Zelena pulls her hand away and Regina feels a little saddened by the tension their interactions were fraught with. Her niece was a curious reminder of how Zelena had betrayed her and Regina tries to summon that rage that had flickered to life within her at Zelena’s pregnancy with her soulmate. But it was no longer there, gone in the face of her tiny helpless niece with her already fiery looking red hair, so like her mother.
And she doesn’t want to analyze exactly why that was.
“Regina, we’ve got another crisis on our hands.” Is so not what she needed Zelena to say. Her eyes find Zelena’s and her sister folds her arms.
“What do you mean?” She asks a little too sharply. “We literally just ended a month’s long one yesterday.”
“The Queen paid me a visit.” Zelena says and Regina’s eyes widen considerably as her fists clench upon her desk. “Or at least, that’s who I’m sure she is, since the Charmings verified that you were apparently too drunk to function last night and she was very much coherent.”
“The Queen.” Regina repeats a little dubiously. “I don’t understand. I crushed her heart. I watched her die.”
“Yeah well she survived.” Zelena grimaces. “And she’s not too jolly that you threw her away.”
Regina abruptly stands from her desk then, moving over to the floor length window recently installed in her office.
“How the hell did she survive?” She asks quietly.
“No idea. But she was being all obnoxious about some new curse she’s cooking up and --”
“A new curse?!”
“-- practically asked me and my daughter to join her side.”
“Zelena what the hell?!” Regina hisses. “When did this happen?”
“Last night.”
“Why didn’t you call me?!”
“I thought she was YOU! Excuse me for not being in the exclusive group who knew you ripped yourself in two like that nutjob Dr Jekyll. I’ve met his other half in the land of untold stories by the way and let me tell you, he’s off his rocker.”
Regina blanches a little at her wording but doesn't let it deter her from snapping at Zelena. “Well clearly she isn’t me! And I would have told you...eventually.”
Zelena scoffs challengingly folding her arms. “Oh yes she is you, had me fooled until she mentioned that revenge thing on the town and I know you’ve gone too soft for that.”
Regina groans and frustratedly runs a hand through her hair. “What the hell are we supposed to do?”
“Track her down obviously. She’s you, where would you hide if you were in town and planning to destroy it?”
Regina plops down heavily into her chair again, trying to wrap her brain around this new development. “I don’t know.” She growls. “I can barely even think properly right now.”
Zelena hums, throwing a glance towards the clock as she stands up and takes ahold of her daughter’s stroller. “Get your Sheriff on the job.”
At the mention of Emma, Regina’s eyes immediately find the clock and she practically blanches when she notices that three quarter of her lunch hour was already gone. And Emma was expecting lunch.
Her phone was oddly silent and she checks it for any messages that Emma may have sent to her. The woman was notorious for being an obnoxious pain where her stomach was concerned and Regina’s a little bit anxious at her empty message box.
She stands up abruptly, gathering her purse and shoving her wallet into it.
“That’s exactly what I plan on doing.” She says determinedly. “I trust that you can show yourself out?”
Zelena delivers a playfully mocking glare that melds into an actual grin as she strolls out of the office.
“Hope I didn’t make you too late for your lunch date with your wife.” She throws flippantly over her shoulder with a wink and a too knowing smile that makes Regina's face color. Zelena's deep obnoxious cackling fills the corridor and Regina's too late to reply as she disappears in a swirl of green.
Regina forgoes driving her Mercedes and instead poofs on over to the diner. She startles Ruby at the counter who clutches her chest dramatically and gives her a dry look.
"I could have morphed and killed you ya know." Ruby grumbles.
Regina scoffs. "I'm well aware that you can only do that around a full moon."
"What do you think tonight is?" Ruby grins wolfishly and Regina's eyes narrow as the young werewolf cheekily hands over her usual packaged order for her and the Sheriff.
She simply raises an eyebrow, pays for the items and magics herself outside the door of the Sheriff's station with the paper bags cradled in her arms. She’s just about to turn the lock when her head jerks up at the sound of a heated argument between Emma and her pirate. She’s not exactly proud of it, but she leans a bit away from the window so she can still see a bit into the room as she listens in on part of the conversation.
“ -- deserve alone time together. You barely do anything here.” Hook practically hisses and Emma just rolls her eyes.
“What about this huge stack of paperwork on my desk looks like barely doing anything?”
Hooks eyes narrow. “I just thought I’d pay you a visit, but you seem to be a little on the hostile side probably because her majesty didn’t bother to show up as well.”
"Wait, did you come here just to one up Regina?" Emma asks testily, shoving Hook’s arm from off of her shoulder as he hovers over her where she’s sitting behind her desk.
Regina stiffens at the use of her name and her fists clench against the paper bags cradled in her hands.
Hook rolls his eyes, twirls a lock of her hair and steps around to the side of her chair. "How else was I supposed to stake my claim over you?"
"Stake your -- I'm not some goddamn property.” Emma hisses, standing up to point a finger against his leather clad chest. “I'm a person."
"Who spends way too much time fixated on her son's other mother.” Hook grumbles in response and Emma scoffs. Regina growls but can't even summon the will to march on over and intervene. Normally she would have had to prevent herself from losing her temper and poofing in to give the pirate a piece of her mind. She sags a little at the thought but is quickly pulled out of it when Hook growls at Emma.
"You made me into the Dark One even after I told you to let me go." And there it was, that famous line he loves using on Emma. Regina's blood boils as Emma sags a little in her seat, curling her nails into her palms. It had taken them a fair amount of time and drunken confessions, but Emma had admitted that the guilt of that always shook her to the core, the fact that she'd been so completely blindsided by her attachment to him that she'd done something unthinkable. Of course it was wrong, she had went against his wishes, stolen his agency, but it was also wrong how he held that over her to keep her submissive. "You came to hell for me and I came back for you but now..."
"What?" Emma asks sharply. A little too sharply. Hook glares at her, bangs his fist on the table.
"Now you're..." Hook scoffs. "More like always been." He mutters to himself. “You know it's amazing you two haven't done anything yet, what with the level of eye fucking on a daily basis."
And Regina falters with that, especially at Emma’s unconvincing feeble rebuttal. "W-What?! We do not--"
Well it was true, they'd never truly gotten to that part, but there was also the fact that that drunken confession of Emma's had came when they'd returned from the underworld without Hook. Regina was trying to be a good friend. One who realized belatedly that comforting Emma and simultaneously drowning her own feelings for the woman in alcohol just wasn't the best combination. It had led to them having their first genuine hug, a novelty which Regina's brain just couldn't let go of and she'd pushed it with a lingering kiss at the corner of Emma's mouth. That had led to them making out on Regina's couch for long hours and falling asleep there curled up in each other's arms. Regina was distraught at herself the very next day and they'd curiously avoided mentioning it at all.
A week later Robin was dead, Hook was suddenly back and Regina had convinced herself that karma had come to bite her in the ass since everyone she gets close to dies.
"Save it Swan, what the bloody hell am I supposed to think any way? You keep avoiding me at every turn you get. You hardly even tell me that you love me and simply explode when I leave a jacket on your couch. I have no idea where we’re actually going with this. Do you even want this as much as I do?”
"I-I do I just--"
“Then I suggest you sort out what that actually means to you. If you even love me at all."
“Killian.” Emma says and she embraces him. Regina’s blood boils at how meek and soft her voice comes out. She doesn’t hear Emma’s next few words, clearly whispered into his ear. And her heart hurts at just how acutely she longs for the past
"I know." Hook says as whatever the words were makes him soften just a bit. "I'm just tired of coming in second place to your family with her."
"You're not in second place." Emma says and Regina stops listening altogether. Her blood’s boiling and she’s raging internally and knows it’s quite uncharacteristic for her to keep it all locked up inside like this.
She poofs herself back to her office and sets the paper bag on fire in the waste basket. She only puts it out when it’s burnt to an unrecognizable crisp and she gets a relief from her thoughts when her secretary comes barrelling in to remind her of her next meeting in a few minutes.
After Emma placates Hook, he leaves, a curious bounce to his step as he informs her that he’ll be on his ship preparing for a very special evening. It’s only then that she remembers the Another Disaster Averted: Storybrooke Extravaganza and she groans, hating the fact that they’d sent her a special invitation since she’d ditched their last few parties.
She sighs heavily and shucks her paperwork aside almost jumping out of her skin when the station’s phone suddenly rings.
“Hello?” She answers gruffly and listens in carefully as one of the residents complains about the young neverland boys running amok down by the docks. She rolls her eyes but carefully assures them that she’d be headed out on patrol and almost sighs in relief when David comes bumbling in a few minutes late for his shift.
“Hey, had to find a last minute replacement for Neal’s babysitter.”
“I’m just happy you’re here.” She says, shifting from the chair as he drapes his own jacket over the back of it. “You deal with that while I go on patrol a bit before heading home.”
David whines a little, especially when he notices the giant stack of paperwork. Emma chuckles.
“Your mother says to remind you to not be late for the party this evening because it’ll and I quote ‘look bad on us royals’.”
Emma groans as David shrugs sheepishly. “Tell mom to chill, I’ll be there.” She grumbles as she slips her jacket on.
“You know how she gets when things don’t go her way.” David reminds gently, opening the first file and grimacing down at it. She shakes her head, sharing the sentiment.
“Fine, I won’t be late.” She says as her father’s eyes settle back on her.
“Good.”
There’s no one really at the docks by the time Emma gets there and she turns the cruiser around to head back into town. Cruising along the too silent roads gives her way too much time to think and she glances at her silent phone and realizes belatedly that she really didn't hear from Regina since that morning. Her stomach growls in reproach and she berates herself for being too on edge to eat when Hook had stormed into her office with his version of lunch - ‘pirate styled’. Apparently it was supposed to be a way to ease into the conversation about him wanting to be a deputy but the minute it had come tumbling out of his mouth Emma had reacted defensively and downright said no.
That had angered him and he'd pointed out that she worked with her father all the time but Emma couldn't help but fight with him over the issue, insisting that their budget wouldn't allow it. That wasn't the problem - working in close quarters with her boyfriend was almost a sure fire way to drive her insane and she’d glanced at the slop he'd called lunch and couldn't even believe that her appetite had fled.
Of course he didn't like that.
He'd then proceeded to call her out on having feelings for Regina. That had startled her and she'd denied it immediately, feeling her stomach twist as the false words fell from her lips.
It wasn't true. Of course it wasn't. She'd only realized for a short time now just how ridiculously enamored she'd become where Regina was concerned and had yet to truly assess the depth of it. And Emma's brain likes torturing her with scenarios that involve an endless repetition of those drunken kisses. Without the liquor.
It was scary how he had seen right through her.
She'd been gifted with Hook again. He'd come back, for her, practically defying death and all logic...something she kept having to remind herself as she'd repeatedly dodged his presence and made excuses when he wanted to spend time together.
Her thoughts and the cruiser almost screeches to a halt when the corner of her eyes catches a shadowy figure taking off through the trees, running at an unnatural speed.
She immediately pulls the cruiser over and jumps out of the car, covering the distance towards the treeline and sprinting after the figure.
Her target notices her straight away and he doubles his speed if possible. Emma grunts but takes off at her personal best, cursing herself for her ridiculous indulgence in all of those bear claws and grilled cheeses as her pride takes a hit at the ease with which she's being outrun.
The man's thick black coat bellows out at his sides, a satchel and a book clutched tightly to his chest as he turns to look at her briefly and Emma swears his eyes glow a bit red. His distinct features are unidentifiable from her angle and distance away but all she catches is an angular shaped faced and a square jaw and she knows she's never seen this man before.
“Hey you! Stop right there!” She shouts breathlessly. The man completely ignores her, taking a sharp turn to the right that leads them off of the clearly cut path and between knotted roots and fallen trees.
Emma groans, legs pumping as she gives chase, and she grits her teeth just as the man takes a sharp left and disappears around a corner of closely packed trees. It's only then that she remembers her magic and grins to herself, closing her eyes and twirling her hands in the air.
A sharp cry rings out from where the man had just disappeared and Emma slows down considerably, carefully making her way towards him. She comes face to face with his entire body suspended in the air by the branches she made capture him and grimaces at her over enthusiastic catch.
Still cautious, she pulls out her revolver from the holster at her side and points it at the assailant, carefully unfurling the lone bulky branch covering his face and promptly startles at the sight of Dr Jekyll.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” She growls, immediately suspicious of his shifty eyed stare.
“S-Sheriff Swan.” He stutters, squirming under her intense glare. “My apologies. I thought you were someone else.”
“Who else could I be?” She asks testily. “You make it a habit to meet shady people out in the woods a lot Doctor?"
“N-Not at all! I was merely collecting some samples of rare medicinal herbs in the forest and thought I saw something in the distance. I gave chase but it had disappeared just as I heard a growl behind me.”
Emma's eyes narrow, but her lie detector doesn't ping once at his words. It's unnerving, his body language is all squirmy and shifty and the characteristics of lying are all there but her superpower doesn't seem to register it.
“I’m sure you at least heard my voice back there.” She begrudgingly lowers her gun, not making a move to untangle the man. “Why did you run?”
“I…” He trails off suddenly, head jerking to the right where the sound of twigs snapping sounds oddly loud this far out into the forest.
Emma bristles but cautiously implores him to stop talking.
She follows the direction of the noise, avoiding the fallen twigs as she moves behind the trees. Out of his sight, she closes her eyes and summons her magic, combing the rest of the forest in less than a minute. Her magic spreads out from her hands in waves of white light but it doesn't detect anything amiss. She gives another cursory glance around at her surroundings before she palms it off as an animal and she moves back into view of the doctor.
“No one but us here now, doc.”
She raises an eyebrow when the man sags bonelessly within the binds of the branches and twirls a finger so that he's safely placed on the ground.
“Thank you, Sheriff.“ He says gratefully, shuffling over to collect his fallen satchel filled with various plants and a book that had been sent sprawling into a muddy puddle when Emma had caught him.
That makes her feel a bit guilty.
“Let's get back into town. I'll give you a ride.”
“We've known each other for a while now, Swan. And I think it's time for us to take the next step.”
There's a tiny squeal from Snow as Hook lowers himself onto one knee before her and Emma feels her heart pounding loudly in her ears as a hush descends upon the rest of the guests at the diner.
She stares down at him, now understanding why he'd goaded her into wearing that white dress she'd worn on their first date instead of her usual jeans and leather jacket. She'd figured he had something romantic planned, maybe a moonlight serenade on his ship. And so she'd decided to put in some effort, styled her hair in a high ponytail and actually put on a fair amount of make up.
She'd been drinking at the bar with Ruby, sulking over the fact that she hadn't heard Regina all day. All of her texts and calls were suddenly going unanswered and she was seriously worried. David had come and taken her over to the dart board to distract her. She'd actually been having an okay time throwing darts with David when Hook had tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention and then proceed to throw Emma's whole world off-balance.
Truthfully, she doesn't even hear what he says but when he raises the ring to her with that smug expectant look, she clams up.
Her gaze flits on over to her parents who are both emotional saps who don't seem surprised in the least. David smiles at her but it's the hopeful look on Snow’s face that does her in more than anything else.
Her eyes sweep the diner for any sign of Regina or their son and an odd pang of disappointment hangs heavy on her heart as she looks back down at Hook.
She smiles a bit wobbly, but nods shakily and soon the ring's on her finger and she's being scooped up into Hook's arms and kissed.
"I hope you like it, your lad picked it out for you." He whispers and Emma finally allows herself to look at her ring for the first time.
A round of applause and hoots and hollers ring out around the diner as David announces that drinks are on him.
Emma immediately extricates herself from his embrace, making her way to the bar amidst the congratulations and well wishing. She smiles and thanks them all and gets herself just tipsy enough to handle the situation without feeling like she wants to crawl out of her own skin when Snow comes over to gush and talk about how she's been planning Emma's wedding since after the first curse broke.
Emma blanches -- that's a long time ago. And she stares into Snow's hopeful smiling face and can't seem to breathe properly as that overwhelming feeling to please her parents, to not be a disappointment to them and their legacy washes over her.
Snow's ranting about wedding dresses and center pieces and wedding locations and gushing about true love and Emma just listens halfheartedly as she downs shot after shot on her still too empty stomach.
Snow doesn't even need her to carry on the conversation so Emma doesn't even notice when she gets up to take a drink with Ruby and Dorothy and gush some more with them.
What feels like an hour later, a hand lands on Emma's shoulder. She twists to see her son and he pulls her up into a hug that she gratefully sinks into.
“Congratulations Ma, I'm glad you're happy.” Henry whispers against her ear and Emma wants to sob as she clings to him but hates that his words settle over her like condemnation.
He pulls back and glances over at his grandparents when David calls him over and Emma now notices Regina at his side. She’s not dressed like the Mayor or her usual. Instead, she looks a bit softer. Her hair was curled and her makeup was simple complementing the elegantly styled lavender dress that so distractedly clung to her curves. She smiles, disarmingly so and Emma's quivering heart practically leaps in her chest.
“I'm sorry about ruining our lunch today.” Regina says and Emma immediately reaches out to touch her, the alcohol in her system bolstering her confidence.
“You'll just have to make it up to me.” She says coyly, taking one of Regina's hands in hers as they stand there among all of Storybrooke practically packed into the diner.
An odd look passes over Regina’s face and her eyes linger on their intertwined hands and Emma's eyes drop to their hands too and her faces flushes at the engagement band glittering proudly there. Emma can feel it burning a hole against her skin.
"Hook proposed." She says, just a tad bit shaky, as if now registering Regina’s confusion. Her voice is strained even to her own ears and the silent gasp Regina gives just about manages to sum up her own feelings on the matter.
The smile Regina then gives in response seems forced, strained at the edges and even in this almost drunken stupor, Emma can identify it.
"Well." Regina says, eyes catching Emma's. "I'd say congratulations are in order." And suddenly she's being pulled into arms that curve around her waist and settle on the small of her back. It's awkward at first, Emma's brain choosing to focus compare the falseness of this hug to genuine of their first instead of returning the hug. It's just a tensed brushing of bodies that Emma curiously holds her breath for. It ends a second later (too soon) and then Ruby's congratulating her and pulling her into another hug.
"I'm your maid of honour right?" Ruby says, a wolfish grin tugging at the corner of her lips.
And Emma smiles, that strained smile, small and tight around the edges that she feels becoming the only one her face can form.
"Of course, you're not just Snow’s best friend, you’re mine too."
She catches brown eyes over Ruby's shoulder just in time to see Zelena pulling Regina towards the front doors of the diner and her heart aches and feels like it's coiling tightly in her chest. Regina drops her gaze and Emma can breathe again and immediately makes her way over to Hook, takes his flask and downs several gulps from the enchanted never ending supply of potent rum.
A hook around her arm stops her. "Save some for the rest of us, love." Killian says, a hearty laugh slipping past his lips as some men at the bar join in.
He takes the flask and pockets it, the arm draped around Emma slipping even lower on her waist as he breathes into her ear. "What's say we have a little engagement party of our own?"
Emma's stomach fiercely rebels at the innuendo to his words and his tone.
But she smiles, because it's expected right? And she kisses him, the rum on her breath barely a contest for the rum on his, but she barrels on until they get several hoots and hollers and some crude jokes about waiting till the honeymoon night.
That last one makes Emma pull away altogether.
But she stays there with him, hanging off of his arm and being the doting fiancé. She doesn’t allow herself to think about the fights they’ve had just because he’d only suggested moving in, and now they were engaged and Emma really doesn’t want to think about any of this.
A few more hours pass in the company of the Storybrooke people and Emma probably gets a glimpse or two of Regina before she doesn't see her in the diner anymore.
It's oddly depressing and Henry alone seems to notice her sullen mood. He sticks by her side for a while, making small talk with Hook and the rest of his crew until he checks the time and practically bolts up from his seat. He then presses a kiss to her cheek to inform her that he was leaving to meet up with Violet.
Her parents seem to be the entertainment for the evening as David maintains a winning streak at a pool table they'd installed at the back just for the event and Snow keeps coming over to discuss wedding details while simultaneously keeping an eye on Neal as his cute chubby face and pronounced dimples garners him a couple of fans. He gets repeatedly passed around from one hand to another and Emma's grateful every time Snow has to get up and go check on him, giving her a reprieve from her overwhelming excitement.
Emma keeps ordering shots and doesn’t stop until she’s almost falling off of her seat, Hook’s arm catching her at the last second as he pulls her into his embrace, a possessive hold that he hasn’t let up since she’d sat down. She tries to soak in the happiness of the atmosphere but fails miserably as the hours float by in a haze to her befuddled mind.
Some time later, the buzz of a text message gets her attention and she pulls out her phone.
Regina’s name pops up along with her message I need to speak with you as soon as possible. That’s it. That's all it says. Short, cryptic and to the point. And Emma muses over the fact that the woman absolutely refused to butcher the English language even over a text.
Killian reads it over her shoulder.
“Her majesty beckons.” He sneers the moniker with so much derision that Emma recoils, and immediately hates herself for how timid she becomes in the face of his aggression. "Wasn't she just in here? What, you two can't speak like normal folk?"
Emma immediately feels a migraine coming on. "That's unfair."
"No, what's unfair is how I constantly am left to feel like you're always running after her."
"Killian, she's family." She tries to placate him, only it doesn’t work. He's clearly intoxicated and he slams his hook, obnoxiously loud and grating against the table and catches the attention of almost everyone in the diner. Emma ducks her head in embarrassment when Snow and David catch her eye from over by the bar.
"She’s family.” Hook mocks. “Am I some how lesser?"
"No." She shakes her head, hating that they're having yet another repeat of this conversation where she has to assure him. “You’re not.”
“Say that convincingly the next time you actually want me to believe you. Isn’t our happy ending supposed to be about us?”
“It is.”
“All I know is that Regina calls and you run.” Hook says, haphazardly flinging the bills he fishes out of his pocket onto the table. "I'll be on my ship."
Emma grabs for his arm. “Come on, don’t be that way.”
“Well come with me.” He insists, holding a hand out to her, and Emma panics and under the direct observation of everyone at the dine she can't even make eye contact with him.
She disappears in a whirl of white just as he's about to pull her to his body.
Emma had had every intention of going home – (not to her empty home where Hook would most likely invite himself, but home to her parent's tiny loft.)
However, her alcohol induced brain lands her in the woods, a street over from Mifflin but totally on the opposite side of town she was aiming for.
She sways, hand grasping at a tree as the magic in her body rolls unsteadily along with her alcohol filled stomach and she grimaces, taking deep breaths that don't make her feel as dizzy.
And in a daring move - she braves the short walk to 108 Mifflin.
The house is dark as she approaches, almost tripping over her own two feet as she stumbles as quickly as she can past the hedges and up onto the front porch. She grips the door frame rigidly, pounding excessively on the door as the rain begins to drizzle.
“Miss Swan, what the hell? It’s two a.m.” Is how Regina answers the door what feels to Emma like half an hour later but may have actually been a few minutes. The sky is dark and there are equally dark lines beneath Regina eyes and her usual immaculate hair is ruffled along with her silky blue pyjamas.
Emma blinks. She really didn’t think about the time when she impulsively decided to visit Regina. A part of Emma thinks that maybe she is a downright idiot, especially because of the way Regina curls in on herself when Emma takes a step towards her. She stills, alcohol making her movements slightly sluggish as she observes Regina's passive expression and the her fingers press rigidly against the frame of the door where she'd only opened it to stick her head out.
"Um, can I come in?" Emma asks quietly, trying in vain to clear the absurdly husky tenor from her voice and that dark taunting voice from her mind.
“Why do you smell like the basement of a brewery?” Regina asks instead of giving a reply, an eyebrow tipping up as she sniffs disdainfully in Emma’s general direction.
And usually Emma would respond to the taunt with something equally as witty but she doesn't. Instead, she just wraps her arms tighter around her body as the cold wind whips against her back and up along her thighs and she presses her lips tightly together to prevent herself from saying something stupid.
“You’re drunk, aren’t you?”
“Can I come in?” Emma repeats, heart clenching so hard at the immediate concern on Regina’s face as her entire body shakes. It’s an unguarded look, one so full of care and love that it has Emma almost choking out a sob.
“Emma.” Her name escapes in a whisper as Regina finally opens the door entirely and places a hand at her too cold shoulder to usher her past the foyer and into her study.
She goes on autopilot, unseeing as tears blur her vision. The wedding band burns and burns where it rests uncomfortably on the hand that’s trapped at her side and she shifts anxiously from feet to feet when Regina takes the throw blanket from off of her couch and approaches. She wraps it around Emma, dark eyes concentrating on the task at hand as she rubs her hands along Emma's arms and her back in an effort to warm her up.
Hook wouldn’t be pleased to know where she’d gone off to. But Emma just needed to think and suddenly, under Regina’s soft open eyes and quiet concern she can’t take the pressure of being a certain someone’s happy ending.
“I…” She clenches a fist against the rise of her breastbone, pressing hard against the organ that was threatening to beat out of her chest. “…hurt.” She chokes out and before she knows it she’s being pulled into a warm embrace as Regina's arms pull her in. She immediately takes her heels off, lessening the height difference between them and sighs blissfully as her own arms curl around Regina's waist as she presses her face against Regina's neck in their second ever genuine hug that seems to almost hold all of the broken pieces of Emma's conflicted heart together.
They stand like that for a while, a desperate hug shared between them that melts into this overwhelming sort of peace and comfort. It’s different to the first one they’d shared that drunken night. So different that Emma wants to sob at it as Regina's arms continuously move along her back and her sides and she presses her cold nose against Regina's neck earning her a delicate squeak that she grins at and snuggles further into Regina's embrace.
“You’re not going anywhere in this state.” Regina announces what feels like an eternity later and Emma murmurs her agreement against soft olive skin that has Regina shakily pulling away. She pouts at the breaking of the hug but it soon disappears as she allows Regina to take her hands and lead her up to the guest room that she practically considers her own.
Emma gets ready for bed, halfheartedly brushing her teeth in the adjoining en suite and ungracefully shucking off her dress. She shuffles through a few of her tank tops and shorts she always leaves in the draws of that room before crawling beneath the covers with all the grace of a five year old. Regina returns a few minutes later with clean pillows, a blanket and a pointed glare at Emma’s carelessly tossed clothing. She clicks her fingers and puts them away, no doubt in their appropriate places.
“Please don’t leave.” Emma requests hesitantly, cheeks blooming red when Regina raises an eyebrow. “At least, not until I fall asleep.” She amends and Regina stills for a moment, gentle eyes sweeping over Emma and making her fidget a little. She doesn't answer, just sighs heavily like Emma was being a pain and props a pillow against the headboard, sinking into the side of the mattress Emma had left vacated.
This ease with Regina is so addictive, and Emma doesn’t allow herself to think about it too much when she snuggles into Regina’s side, throwing an arm around her waist and tucking her head beneath her chin, There's the rumble of soft husky laughter above her head before she's being encased within Regina's arms and Emma hums, loving the warmth of the embrace as she curls her fingers against the back of Regina’s pyjama top and glosses over just how right it feels.
She lets herself be held by Regina, too tired to pull away, too tired of being the strong one and certainly too tired to think about the day she's had. They don’t really talk, especially not about that engagement band on Emma’s hand that means things are about to change again, and Emma falls asleep cradled in Regina’s arms safe and sound in her guest room.
Emma wakes up the next morning to the gentle smoothing of fingers combing through her unruly curls and the scent of honey and lilacs lingering on the pillows. It’s a pleasant sensation, one that almost demands a contented sigh from her.
And just as the sigh escapes her lips, the mattress dips at her sides and she can feel Regina leaning forward. Emma doesn’t know why but she tilts her chin at the last possible second and her stomach flips when there's the unmistakable sensation of those soft lips pressed against hers.
Regina's breath catches against her mouth and Emma goes incredibly still as the woman immediately freezes above her when suddenly an energy building against their connected mouths pushes their lips apart.
Emma's heart beats in overtime as an odd reckless feeling steals over her and misty eyes spring open in time to catch the last vestiges of rainbow light flooding out over the room, passed the window and heading straight through the entirety of Storybrooke.
She pauses in sudden disbelief, her thoughts abruptly coming to a halt as she comes face to face with sorrowful dark eyes that show their own brand of surprise before they both spring apart.
Only, Emma reacts a lot more clumsily than her bed partner and ends up toppling off the bed.
“Fuck.” She groans, landing in a heap on her back and quickly ignoring the pain blooming against her lower back in the face of the antsy panicky feeling warring in her chest. She presses a hand against her chest and catches sight of the engagement band and all of a sudden she can’t meet Regina’s eyes.
Not that Regina’s faring any better, she’s as still as a statue perched on the bed, eyes not daring to even look at Emma, but right through her.
Emma immediately shoots to her feet.
“Hey I um, work! I...Sherriff-ing! Gotta -- later!” And she bolts out of the room and down the stairs praying that she doesn’t run into their son in the kitchen.
Luck’s not on her side this morning apparently as Henry’s gaze follows her from his perch at the kitchen island where he’s eating pancakes. But not just any pancakes, oh no, special chocolate chip pancakes with Regina’s special type of syrup, Emma’s favourite. Except, her stomach fiercely rebels at just the sight of them, not that the guilt eating at her doesn’t contribute to it in waves.
“Morning, kid.” She says, hurriedly shoving her feet into her boots and tugging her jacket out of the coat rack and shucking it on in a matter of seconds.
Henry just raises a little eyebrow at her, sluggishly nibbling on his pancakes and Emma’s never been more grateful for this moody teenage phase he was slipping into.
She jerkily waves at him, telling him she’d talk to him later and poofs out of the mansion.
It takes her a few seconds to realize she’d essentially poofed to the station in nothing but her jacket, boots and underwear.