Harsh raindrops slapped against the clouded windows of the modest two-bedroom house. Emma laid in bed, listening to the remnants of the previous night's storm wash its way through the streets of Boston. Frustrated, she rolled to her side and retrieved the cell phone off the Ikea nightstand and groaned as the display lit up the time. 3:11 a.m.
"For the love of fuck!" She growled, slamming the phone back onto the nightstand and crushing her face into the soft pillow.
This had become her unwilling routine for the two weeks. No matter how many at-home remedies she swallowed or sleeping pills she took, every day she woke up at 3:11 a.m. from the same dream. Well, not the same exactly. Sometimes she could almost make out the face that floated through her subconscious. Almost. She had been about to touch the figure that haunted her dreams when something bright flooded the dream and she was jolted awake. Fingertips had been a mere few inches from discovery.
"Stupid- Can't believe- Fuckin' dreams. Ugh!"
Emma haphazardly tried to kick off her covers, only to entangle herself more completely within the satiny confines and frustrate her more. She scooted to the side of the bed, hoping she could lift a leg out of the mess, but instead caught her foot on it and send herself tumbling to the floor. With a grunt, she breathed out deeply in defeat and stared up at the ceiling.
"Why can't I just see your face? Who are you?"
After several minutes of laying on the ground and pulling herself out of the sheets, she stood and sleepy footsteps padded toward the bathroom. She jumped slightly when she caught a glimpse of herself in the large mirror. Her wild curls flowed in every which direction and the expensive eyeliner she'd applied for her previous night out was smeared all the way up her forehead.
"Jesus, how does that even happen? Gareth is so giving me my money back."
She reached through the shower curtain and switched on the shower, bouncing on her feet until the familiar rise of steam began to fill the room. Quickly, Emma stripped out of her underwear and tank top, not wasting any time and stepping past the curtain into the scalding stream. A low groan of appreciation rumbled deep in her chest as she tilted her head back, allowing the water to wash over her hair and face. This dream hadn't been like the rest, she had gotten closer than any other time the figure had visited her over the last couple of weeks. At first, she thought it was a repressed memory from when she was a child, but as the dreams increased she realized she didn't know this person. Not in the conventional sense, anyway. There was something foreign, yet indescribably familiar about this person, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Literally.
Emma's life had always been a whirlwind of transplanting and adjustment. Her mother had been an addict, unable to care for her in the early years and decided the best way to give her child her best chance was to give full custody to Emma's grandparents. For the first 7 years of Emma's life, she was well cared for and truly cherished. Right before her 8th birthday, her grandparents were driving home from a doctor's appointment at Mass Gen. and were struck by a merging U-Haul on Storrow Drive.
Short legs raced down the narrow walkway of the yellow school bus and jumped from the top step, only to be met by two tall police officers. The female officer held out cautionary hands to the little girl, a gesture of openness despite the pained look on her face. Emma frowned, taking a step back from the officers and shifted the small Sailor Moon backpack on her shoulders.
"Where's Nani?" The little girl's voice trembled as green eyes fogged over with moisture.
The policewoman crouched down to her level, keeping a respectful distance. "Baby girl, I'm sorry, something bad happened."
"No!" She yelled, pinching her eyes together and clasping both hands over her ears.
Emma wanted to run, run as far as her little legs would take her. She didn't care about the destination, only about escaping the jagged edges of the broken portrait she'd become accustomed to living her life inside.
A soft hand brushed her bangs back. "Your grandparents-"
Small hands balled into fists and knees collided with the cold concrete, loose gravel sinking into tender skin.
"Car crash-"
Back and forth, she rocked. Praying, hoping that this was one of her nightmares and soon she'd wake up. This had to be a mistake, her grandparents couldn't be gone.
"Didn't make it-"
A mournful wail pierced the quiet cul-de-sac. Neighbors poured from the houses, some had already been standing in their respective driveways, but none approached the officers or the inconsolable little girl.
"We have to go-"
Emma jerked away from the other woman's advancing hand. With all the strength she could muster, she turned on her knees and moved to run, heavily scraping her knees in the process.
"Grab her!" A deep voice boomed, presumably the male police officer.
There hadn't been many things that Emma's mother had taught her during the brief supervised visits over the last 8 years, but she engrained one very important lesson: if you must run, don't stop. Run as though your life depends on it, because one day, it just may. Today, Emma thought, was that day. Despite being small for her age, she was fast. Nani used to joke that she could give Roadrunner a run for his money. So, she ran. Blood streaked from her marred kneecaps and stained the white, lace-topped socks as she evaded the officers and two of her neighbors, narrowly missing Mrs. Pens' pug that was sunbathing on the nearby grass. She ran until her muscles ached and her throat burned, then she pushed herself harder to keep going. Just when she'd ducked behind a house two blocks away, her small frame crashed against something very solid and unwavering. It was a woman.
"What are you doing in my backyard, girl?" The older woman inquired, hands firm on her hips and eyes pensive.
Emma stared with wide eyes up at the woman. The urge to run filled her stomach, but the other woman, sensing the child's unease, took a distancing step back.
"Hey now, Pup, it's alright. I'm not going to hurt you. What has you running all over the neighborhood?"
The woman's gentler tone and softened eyes helped relax Emma's shot nerves a little, and she let out the breath she didn't know she was holding.
"I- My- They-" Emma sputtered, trying to catch her breath and speak at the same time.
The woman, with a bit of difficulty, lowered herself to the grass and sat with her legs crossed, looking attentively at Emma.
"One thought at a time, Darlin," She soothed, reaching and twisting her hair up into a bun. "What's your name?"
Emma shuffled her feet, staring at the ground. "Emma."
The cascade of ice-cold water jolted Emma from her thoughts, sending her jerking forward and slipping on her own feet. Thankfully, she'd managed to catch herself on the shower's wall handle without bruising herself too bad. Tentatively, she reached back through the cold water and shut off the valve, thankful for it to stop.
"Fuckin' Mondays," She groaned, wrenching the curtain open and grabbing her towel.
The morning continued as most did. The empty cardboard pizza box sat next to a half drank beer on the rugged coffee table. A pack containing two lone cigarettes lay underneath a mini torch lighter on the windowsill that led out to the fire escape, which was her favorite place to relax from the world's horrors. Her uniform was hanging up on the outside of her closet, a tradition she'd carried on from her grandfather. "A man is only as strong as his clothes are starched," he'd used to say.
Emma hugged the towel tight around her body as she crossed the room to her uniform. After having the last week off, her limbs felt sluggish as she put each leg through the navy blues. She stared at herself in the mirror, making sure to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles on the crisp, white blouse. A nervous habit she'd pick up from her grandmother. It wasn't that Emma was worried about going back to work, but more so how others were going to react to her being back, even if it was for temporary desk duty. That was standard for the department when an officer has been shot.
Detective Emma Swan had chosen to work one of the many comic conventions floating through Boston that summer. Fellow officers inside her department had suggested she could make a fair amount of supplemental income working the con circuit as security, so she decided to give it a go. The convention started off without a single issue, and Emma had genuinely been enjoying herself while shuffling around celebrities and panelists to their designed areas. The majority of the fans had been respectful, keeping their distance when Emma gave them a stern look, and some had even asked to take a picture with her instead of her current charge. What she hadn't been anticipating was the front security's inability to flag a weapon from entering the convention center. As she was ushering the latest celebrity through the convention center, an overly enthusiastic fan attempted to bum rush her and the other two assigned security officers. The other guards had extended their arms in protest to stop the fan, and that's when all hell broke loose.
The next thing Emma knew, she had woken up in a local hospital's intensive care unit. The gunman had shot her with a single bullet, thankfully a clean through and through, but she had lost a great deal of blood on-scene. She'd spent the remainder of the weekend in the ICU, trying to recover from the wound and bruised ribs, and yelling profusely at the doctors to release her to go home. Finally, after a small infection and a number of unfortunate angry encounters with the nursing staff, Emma was able to rest in her own home with intentions to return to work the following week. Today was the day, her first day she'd spent fielding questions, concerns, and unavoidable shitty food dishes from the rest of her department. Up until now, she'd been able to ignore the maxed-out voicemail on her phone and work emails, but not anymore. She groaned a little louder than necessary as she zipped up her leather boots and stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom.
"And here I was, just starting to get used to sleeping with a normal schedule," Emma pouted, observing a piece of her blouse that had come untucked from her pants. She left the bedroom with a huff and grabbed her keys and satchel before exiting the house.
Emma lived on a dead-end loop street in one of the most beautiful areas of Jamaica Plain if you ever asked for her opinion. Blossom trees lined the cracked sidewalks and the quiet hum of the light, distant traffic filled the air as she descended the steps. In the narrow driveway beside the house sat two of her prize possessions, waiting for the detective to make a very important decision: two wheels or four? Logically, she knew she should take her car to work and avoid the inevitable commentary of the nosy dispatcher, but she also had a taste for the edge this morning. The dream from earlier still bothered her and riding her bike had always helped clear her mind. Black Betty, Emma mused to herself, smiling in the covered bike's direction. The dewy gravel crunched under her boots as she eagerly strolled over to pull the cover off, carefully draping it along the porch railing. She mounted the bike and lovingly ran her fingertips along the swan engravement on the tank. It had been a gift from her coworkers when she'd made detective; a simple outline of a swan spreading its wing open and a hint of bright sapphire trimming the wings for her years as a beat cop. She had never been so touched or felt so loved as she did when they unveiled it. Now, every time she rode, it reminded her that she wasn't alone anymore, and all the difficult times were worth something. Tugging the helmet off the handle, she slid it onto her head and sighed deeply as the familiar feeling of padding settled around her face. This was well worth facing the Chief's wrath later.
"Bullshit, Lucas!"
"Cry me a river, Jones. I won fair and square."
"Like hell you did! You're a right cheater!"
Emma entered the squad room in long strides, carefully balancing her coffee and a box full of doughnuts in her hands.
"I leave for a whopping 10 days and you guys are already at each other's throats?" Emma called out, flashing the room a bright smile.
"Swan!" Officer Jones called out, reaching for the teetering box.
"Get away from the booty!" Emma protested, steering hard to the side and setting the box on the conference table. "There's enough for everyone to have one, dig it!"
The smiling detective made a beeline for her desk as her fellow officers and detectives bolted toward the table, hip-checking and shoving each other out of the way to find the best sweet treat.
"Good lookin' out, Swan!" A voice rang out.
Emma flopped into the ripped leather chair, laughing in disbelief.
"Fuckin' bunch of vultures. I see how it is, you didn't even miss me!"
Her best friend dodged the squabbling officers and plopped herself directly into the detective's lap, uncaring as to who saw.
"I missed you, fucker! Like an ass-ton!"
Emma feigned surprise. "Oh, my. Is that more than a fuck-ton? Dare I say more than a metric fuck-ton?"
Ruby chuckled and gave her a tight hug. "Even more than a metric fuck-ton. I'm still mad you wouldn't let me bring anything over to you."
Emma winced at the pressure. "Hey, ease up, Rubes."
The tall brunette leaped up, hands covering her face in horror.
"Oh, shit! Emma, I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?"
She shook her head and gingerly massaged her side. "Nah, it's okay. I'll live. Tis' just a flesh wound!"
"You're so stupid," Ruby chuckled, rolling her eyes.
"I couldn't agree more."
The harsh voice cut through the chaotic room, silencing it immediately. The officers and detectives scattered away from the conference table, donut toppings flaking onto the floor in their wake. The chief was on deck.
Emma rose reflexively, body rigidly straight. "Chief Booth, sir."
Harsh angles cracked with a playful smirk. "At ease, soldier."
Her lips pursed in amusement as she approached her boss, extending an arm out. "Old habits die hard, Sir."
The Chief clasped her hand firmly in his then rumbled out a deep chuckle, pulling the younger woman tightly into an embrace.
"Good to see you back, kid. I missed hearing you run your mouth in here. If I had to listen to Jones and Lucas take any more bets about when you'd succumb to dysentery, I was going to drag your butt back myself."
Emma turned in horror to her fellow officers. "You did what?"
Officer Jones stifled a snort and Ruby sank further into her slightly broken armchair, pulling the beanie on her head to cover her face with a mumble.
"Beg your pardon, Officer Lucas? Care to repeat yourself for the class?" Emma teased, haughtily placing hands on her beltline.
Ruby inched the beanie back up to her hairline. "Well, you see- The thing is- Chief makes it sound bad when he puts it like that."
"You're getting tent duty for that one, Lucas," Chief Booth chortled, clapping Emma on the shoulder with a grin. "Speaking of Marathon Monday-"
Emma's eyes went wide. "No. Booth, no. Chief, don't you dare. Please."
He shrugged broad shoulders, smiling calmly. "I'm not the one that went and got herself shot at a nerd orgy, Swan. You know the rules. Everyone works Marathon Day, and since I can't exactly have you do dispatch after the last time…"
She let out a huff and rolled her eyes. "That was one time and you know he deserved it."
"You dumped hot coffee in a dispatcher's lap, called him, and I quote, 'a needle-nosed dick rat bastard,' then proceeded to tell the entire room about how you thought, judging by the lack of bulge, that the hot coffee had the opposite effect on his balls."
The station room was deathly silent until a quiet giggle cut through the tension and Ruby bent between her legs to laugh, then promptly fell out of the chair. The rest of the room lost their composure.
"He took the last bear claw, Chief! Was I supposed to act? The disrespect! The cruelty!" Emma defended, throwing her hands up in the air.
Her futile arguments only amplified the wheezing laughter in the room and finally Ruby rose to embrace her friend.
"It's okay, Swanny. We'll get you another damn donut." She wiped at the tears streaming down her reddened face. "If only you could put that much fiery passion into finding yourself a woman!"
Chief Booth choked on the donut he'd retrieved from the conference table and pounded hard on his constricting chest, powdery plumes escaping from his lips.
"Goddamnit, Lucas. I was not prepared." He grimaced, voice hoarse and low.
Between the two, Emma glowered in self-pity and growing annoyance.
"Is this pick on Swan day?" She grumbled, giving Ruby a hard shove with her hip.
Ruby shoved her back, her duty belt clashing with Emma's hip bone with a hollow thump. They both grimaced.
"I didn't mean to do it that hard, so oops. But, you did it first. And, hell yes, it is! Your little vacation meant that I was paired with Jones for 2 weeks. Do you have any fucking idea how many rum jokes that dude has?"
"Hey!" Officer Jones cried out. "I'll have you know my wife thinks I'm delightful!"
"I doubt it's his conversational skills that his wife thinks are delightful." Emma chortled, voice only loud enough for Ruby to hear.
Ruby covered her mouth as a snort surfaced. Chief Booth waved a hand through the air, taking back control of the room.
"As I was saying before I was crudely interrupted."
"Don't you mean rudely?" Ruby mused.
The Chief gave her a sharp look and she bit her lips shut with a submissive downturn of her eyes.
"I know none of us like working the marathon. But, it's the biggest event of the year unless the Sox win the series, Pats go to the Superbowl, or heaven forbid, the Bruins win the cup."
The more religiously inclined officers made the sign of the cross and knocked on their wooden desks.
"Swan, you'll be with Jones at the finish line near the meddy tent where Officer Lucas will now be stationed." He ignored Ruby's quiet whine. "Officers Nolan, Humbert, and Cox will work the perimeter while Bravo team assist at the midpoint. If all goes well, next Monday will be an easy 12 and out, then the next shift takes over. Understood?"
Chief booth scanned the room for any signs of defiance, though every officer nodded as he made eye contact.
"Excellent, that's what I like to see. Jones, Lucas, and Swan meet me in my office in two minutes."
"Yes, Sir." They responded in trained unison.
The officers went about their individual tasks and the trio walked over to Emma's desk where she unclipped and placed her sidearm in the top drawer.
"What do you think he wants to see us about?" Jones asked, a frown deepening on his dark brows.
Ruby shrugged. "Probably gonna yell at us for some shit we haven't done yet. The usual."
Emma shook her head with a smile. "I forgot how much I missed you bastards. The stay-at-home life is definitely not for me."
Jones playfully nudged her with an elbow. "Guess that makes you the butch one in the relationship eh, lass?"
With a smirk, Emma closed the drawer and shrugged off her leather jacket. "You're just jealous because my Glock is bigger than yours."
"I work with fuckin' children," Ruby muttered under her breath. "Come on, fuckers. Chief said two minutes."
Chief Booth motioned for them to close the door and take a seat after they'd entered his office. Medals and trophies lined the several bookshelves that were carefully placed under the least burnt out ceiling lights. The bookshelves themselves contained classical literature, a few poetry anthologies, and surprisingly, an alarming number of "For Dummies" books.
"You wanted to speak to us, Sir?" Emma broke the silence as Jones closed the door.
The Chief nodded, frowning when she didn't sit. "Please, take a seat."
She shook her head. "I was on my ass for the last two weeks. The last thing I need to do is more sitting."
"Must be nice-" Ruby trailed off, sticking her tongue out.
"I was shot!" Emma grit out.
"While standing next to someone dressed like Goku from Dragon Ball Z," Jones added thoughtfully.
"I was protecting my charge." Emma narrowed her eyes threateningly.
"You literally swan dove like you were bobbing for apples, dude." Ruby squinted, tilting her head to the side.
"I took a bullet in the line of duty!"
"Line of duty or line of boobies? You were precariously close to Elvira's table, love."
The Chief cleared his throat, glancing down at his watch in unamused boredom.
"If you three are quite done, I do have a department to run."
"Sorry, Chief." They quietly apologized, one after the other without looking up at him.
"Lovely. Let's proceed then."
He pulled a manila folder from a stack and slid it across the desk, expression unreadable. Emma was the first to be brave and reached a hand toward it, eyes looking questioningly at their boss. When he gave her an approving nod, she took the folder and opened it. Her eyes shot up to him and a beaming smile spread infectiously across her lips. He returned the smile, then shifted slightly to focus on Ruby.
"Officer Lucas, if you please," He nodded to the folder in Emma's hands.
Ruby swallowed hard and took a deep breath, feeling all the heat in her body leave momentarily.
"Sir?" She squeaked, hesitantly taking the folder from her friend.
"Open the file, Lucas." His words were clipped and left no room for disagreement.
Nervous, her fingers twitched against the folder's edge. Next to her, Jones and Emma shared eat-shit grins and waited for the other woman's inevitable reaction. Ruby took another deep breath and opened the folder, an immediate high-pitch scream emitted from her lightly painted lips and she jumped up. The flimsy chair crashed to the floor and she almost tripped over it as she danced in place.
"Yes! Fucking yes! Is this for real? It better be for real because it's way past April Fool's and I can't drink on the job. Oh my god, Chief. Is this really happening?"
Ruby's eyes glistened with tears, threatening to break past her lashes as she bent at the waist with her elbows on her thighs.
"You earned it, Lucas. It's yours, if you want it, of course."
Eyes wide, she stood ramrod straight and nodded profusely.
"Fuck yes!" She winced, a tear escaping. "I mean, yes, Sir. I would be honored to accept that station."
The Chief opened his top drawer with a grin and withdrew a shiny silver pen, extending it to the younger woman.
"All you need to do is sign on the dotted line and I'll pass it on to HR to handle all the formalities."
Ruby's hand shook as she took the pen from his hand and she signed the bottom of the document, then closed the folder to hand it back.
Chief Booth rose and took the folder, tucking it into another pile. "Welcome to the team," He thrust an imposing hand out toward her, "Detective Lucas."
Emma and Jones fist-bumped and stood proudly next to their friend as she held back tears during the handshake. They turned their attention to their chief when the pair broke apart and Ruby had taken her seat again.
"While you were on leave," He nodded to Emma, "I paired Jones with Lucas because I wanted to see how she'd do under pressure. Our girl over here single-handedly took down a perp in Back Bay that had beaten a woman within inches of her life."
Emma looked down at Ruby, extremely impressed. The other woman blushed and averting her eyes in minor embarrassment.
"It wasn't that big of a deal," She whispered.
"Wasn't that big of a deal?" Jones gasped, looking up at Emma. "The bastard tried to lose us in a building and do you know what this crazy, incredible little psycho did?" He pointed at Ruby and Emma shook her head. "She jumped from a fucking fire escape and tackled the guy angry birds style."
They all shared a quiet chuckle and Jones continued.
"He almost booted her off and somehow, contortionist type of shit, pinned his head with one foot and pin his leg with the other while still managed to cuff him. It was spectacular."
Emma smiled proudly at her friend and leaned down to hug her around the shoulders, ignoring the tugging pain in her side.
"I'm wicked proud of you, Rubes."
Ruby reciprocated the hug and stood to shake the Chief's hand one last time before tearing out of the room with excitement. The remaining three in the room as they watched her jump on the closest desk with ease.
"Guess who got promoted, bitches?!" Ruby screamed, doing an impressively similar rendition of the running man on the narrow surface.
Regina Mills had become an EMT almost immediately out of high school, living and breathing the accelerated training program for four months before diving head first into the first EMS service that would hire her. To no one's surprise, Regina had graduated the program with exceptional honors and awards: Top Student, a clinical recognition from a well-respected emergency department physician, Volunteer of the Year from the local fire station, etc. On paper and the surface, Regina Mills was the ideal candidate for hire and had proven her presence in the field. That was, before everything crashed down around her, and a piece of her soul was deeply embedded into the finish line of her favorite yearly city event: The Boston Marathon.
3:11 AM, April 13th, 2013
"Gina, get up! Our shift starts in less than an hour!"
Regina startled from the bed, reflexively jumping up to stand and, instead of landing on her feet, faceplanted on the hardwood floor. She groaned and internally cursed herself for switching shifts with Mary. Switching to from night to day shift usually wasn't something she'd do, but the other woman had begged her until she had finally relented. At least she knew it would be an easy shift, just sit and look pretty until one of the runners predictably passed out from exhaustion then care for them in the medical area. No big deal. She kind of felt bad for Mary because she'd wanted the day off to run in the marathon, an endeavor Regina never saw herself attempting. She ran for two things: someone or something is chasing her and if someone was dying.
"I'm up!" She let her head drop to the floor, defeated. "I need coffee."
Her housemate and friend, Belle, burst through the bedroom door and skidded to a stop a few steps in front of Regina, a to-go cup in her hand.
Regina brushed the wild curls out of her face, glaring up at the other woman. "That better be for me."
Belle squatted down and extended her arm, "One large, dark roast, bitter as fuck coffee for the Queen of sleeping in!"
"Give me that," Regina groused, snatching the cup and taking a long drink. "Oh, god. That's fucking good. Thank you."
Belle stood and walked to the closet, retrieving a starched uniform. "Feel free to get up at any point and get dressed. We have to go to roll-call before we staged and I, for one, do not wish to hear Gold rip us a new one because you decided to do a rendition of Sleeping Beauty."
Regina disentangled herself from the sheets, careful not to tip the cup, and took the uniform from her friend with a smirk.
"Are you sure you don't want Gold to get heated? I know you two have a thing going and clearly one of you is into authority play."
Belle blushed, wide-eyed. "We are not having this discussion. Get dressed and meet me downstairs. I packed food for your ungrateful ass and we need to get going."
"Thanks, Mom!" Regina laughed, watching Belle retreat quickly from the room.
Once she was fully dressed and her hair in a military braid, she joined Belle downstairs where they moved in a well-practiced dance to ready themselves for their shift. They'd become fast friends in EMT class during a crossover training with the fire department on car extraction. Belle was chosen as the "victim," stuck in the front passenger seat and Regina was practicing stabilization while the fire department used the Jaws of Life to pry off the car roof. Well, that was what was supposed to happen, but Belle had decided to have a go at Regina and distracted her with jokes about her cleavage strategically cradling Belle's neck. Needless to say, the pair were pulled out of the demonstration because they couldn't stop laughing, and it was beginning to spread to the firefighters. That was three years before the bombings.
The pair had been assigned to the medical tent just past the marathon finish line, much to their excitement. Both being Boston natives, this day was one of the most important of the year, aside from opening day at Fenway, of course. The marathon brought runners from different cities, states, and even countries. Boston had always been a melting pot of people from all walks of life, and the marathon was one of the major events that brought them all together.
11:31 AM
The barriers were lined with onlookers and supporters cheering on their friends and loved ones in the beautiful, sunny April afternoon. Groups of coworkers, friends, and families crowded the nearby shops and restaurants, eating and drinking in the peaceful serenity of Marathon Day, soaking in the sunlight without a cloud in sight. The race began in Hopkinton earlier that morning and the final wave of runners had entered the race fifteen minutes ago. Everything about the day was perfect. Until suddenly it wasn't.
2:25 PM
"Get your ass over here, Mills!"
Regina spun to confront the voice, scowl at the ready until she realized it was Belle signaling for her attention. With a quirk of her brow and upturn to the side of her mouth, she sauntered over to her friend, smiling conspiratorially at the bag in her hand.
"Is that what I think it is?"
Belle chuckled. "Of course it is."
"Did the cute girl drop it off again?"
With a blush, Belle thrust the bag forward. "Shut up, Regina."
Regina's eyebrows shot up in a comical gesture. "Ooh! Someone is awfully sensitive! Do tell. Have you given her your number yet?"
"You're insufferable."
"Am not," Regina replied with a mouthful of croissant. "Please, Belle. Marry that woman. Her family makes the best pastries in the North End."
Belle let out a huff and rolled her eyes. "I don't even know her name, and for all I know, she isn't even interested in women."
Manicured fingers beat against a uniformed chest. "Belle- Oh shit, that hurt. Are you kidding me?" Regina coughed again into a napkin and breathed in with difficulty.
"I'm not like you. I can't just reel in women with those bedroom eyes and a body that doesn't quit. I work, go home, read a fucking encyclopedia of stupid facts, and then pass out."
"Don't forget a week UberEats order from the best pastry place-"
"In the North End," Belle finished, "Yes, I know. I'm making a habit of it and it's pathetic."
Regina frowned, tilting her head to the side to regard her friend. "It's not pathetic. You're lonely."
Belle gave her a stern look. "Lonely. That's a joke if I ever did hear one. I haven't been laid in so long that I'm pretty confident that my hymen has not only reformed, but created a goddamn chastity belt around my crotch that deflects any and all potential female interaction."
A louder, more realistic choking sound filled the triage tent and several of their coworkers stopped what they were doing to see what was causing the distraction.
"Damn drama queen," Belle muttered, patting her friend's back.
"You can't-" Regina wheezed, powdered sugar coating her lips, "Just say shit like that without warning!"
"Well, excuse me."
Regina straightened her figure, hastily wiping her face clean of the sugary remnants and shot a deadly glare around the room.
"Exactly what the hell are all of you staring at?" She boomed.
When one of the newest recruits to the team followed suit with the team and accidentally tripped over a medical bag, Belle snorted a laugh.
"Well done, Your Majesty."
Regina turned and straightened her uniform. "Yes, well, moving along. Fact of the matter is you need to ask this woman on a date. No ifs, ands, or buts about it."
"Regina-" Belle cautioned.
"No," Regina stopped her, hand waving dismissively through the air. "When we get off shift today, you are going to get in the closest Uber and ask out the hot pastry chick."
"I hate you."
Regina grinned and swung an arm around her shoulders. "That is a bold face lie, French."
"You're so lucky we're in public, or else I'd deck you right now."
"No need to be rude, Dear. I'm only trying to rectify a problem you won't touch with a ten-foot pole."
"Oh, I'll rectify something with a ten-foot pole alright…" Belle murmured, shrugging off the other woman and walked over to their coworker that was still on the floor.
Pleased with herself, Regina strolled to the tent's opening and stretched in the early afternoon sunlight, smiling as more runners made their way past the finish line. It really was her favorite day of the year, aside from Halloween, of course. She glanced down at her watch. 2:45 PM. Their 12-hour shift was nearly finished, and she was starting to the get end-of-shift jitters.
"Hey, Belle!" She called over her shoulder.
"Yeah?" Came a yell.
"Are you going to be okay if I take a walk around the finish line to stretch my legs?"
"Go for it, grandma!"
Regina flipped her friend the bird and exited the triage tent into the bright light. She had only come within a few feet of the sound booth before an explosion rocked the ground and the air around her. Everything went still and silent as a winter's night.