A/N: Hello! I got sent the idea for a Devil Wears Prada AU on tumblr by swanqueensweaters, and I really enjoyed writing it. Quite a few people asked me to continue it, so I thought I would post it to here too if people wanted to follow it! Apologies in advance if chapter uploading is very sporadic, I have quite a hectic work schedule right now, but I'll definitely try my best!

Also, when I was writing this chapter I didn't intend for it to get quite so long and I was trying to speed it up a bit, so I'm sorry if parts of it seem rushed! Anyway, I hope you enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT, The Devil Wears Prada, or any recognisable characters.

Of all the days Emma Swan had ever been late, this was by far the worst. Interviewing for a new job was scary enough, but her potential new boss' reputation well and truly proceeded her on the New York journalism circuit. Emma had heard horror stories about people being absolutely annihilated in interviews with her, and while she had only applied for a position as a junior personal assistant, she wasn't feeling good about it.

If Emma was being honest with herself, fashion wouldn't have been her first choice of career. But the pay was higher than a lot of the other positions she'd applied for, and she couldn't deny a curiosity to see if the editor-in-chief of Runway magazine, Regina Mills, was all she was rumoured to be.

Wearing the only dress in her wardrobe, a tight black number that was truthfully completely unacceptable for a job interview, Emma eventually ran into the Elias-Clark group's building 10 minutes late, heels in her hand, and headed for the reception desks.

"Emma Swan, interviewing at Runway magazine." Emma said to the woman behind the desk, still breathing heavily from her run in.

"You're late, Emma." The woman behind the desk, in a red dress with a matching streak in her hair, raised her eyebrows at the wheezing and pink-cheeked figure in front of her.

"My alarm didn't go off, and then there was a whole subway thing, and…"

"Don't waste any more time speaking to me, go. Go! That elevator over there, 12th floor. Miss Mills' office is signposted once you're up there. One sec," the woman bent down behind the desk, and reappeared holding a full bottle of water. "Here. You need it more than me. Good luck!" she made a shoo-ing motion with her hands, and Emma smiled at her gratefully before once again breaking into a run.

Emma followed the instructions of the receptionist, whom she'd decided to call Red, with a hasty intensity, until she reached the room the signs had directed her to. A desk stood either side of her, one covered with magazines and over-flowing files, the other pristine save for a wilting pot plant. Emma hoped that wasn't an omen.

"Emma Swan?" The accented voice came from a figure crouched under the messy desk that Emma truthfully hadn't even spotted before.

"Uh, yeah…. Are you ok?" The woman stood, and tidied the ends of her dress around her knees.

"Sorry, these shoes are killing me. Belle. Belle French. Miss Mills' PA." Belle offered Emma a quick handshake. "You're very late, Emma."

"Yeah sorry, I.. sorry."

"Try not to worry." Belle almost winced at her own words, "I'll just go in and let her know that you're here. In the meantime, relax. You'll not help yourself in there being all jumpy. And you might want to put your shoes on."

Emma looked down and found that her heels were still in her hand. "God, yes. Sorry. Again." Belle smiled at Emma and entered the frosted glass door to the connecting room with a half hesitant knock.

As Emma bent down to put her shoes back on, she took the moment of being near the ground to sneak a peek through the glass panels of the wall at her new boss. Of all the things Emma had heard about Regina Mills; her ruthlessness, her take-no-prisoners attitude, her impressive track record, never had Emma once heard reference to her beauty. And god, was she beautiful.

Emma supposed that there were many things more relevant to Miss Mills' life and career than her appearance, but for now she couldn't help but stare at the glossy, brunette hair framing her face and the way her glasses pushed up her head kept some tendrils back.

"Uh, Emma…" Belle had reappeared, and was looking at Emma still crouched on the floor, hands over one shoe. "She's ready for you."

"Right, ok. Wish me luck." Emma stood and took in a shaky breath, knocking on the frosted glass door twice before entering the room.

"Miss Swan, so glad you could finally make it." The voice was rich and snarky, and Emma was immediately intimidated.

"I'm so so sorry Miss Mills, I'm normally never late for anything. Of all the days…"

"Please, take a seat." Regina looked up at the woman in front of her for the first time, and squinted a little at the apologetic smile on Emma's face. After a moment, she signalled to the seat in front of the desk and returned her gaze to the paperwork in front of her. "So tell me, Miss Swan. What do you think are some of your best qualities?"

"Professionally speaking?"

Regina looked up at Emma with a furrow in her brow once again.

"Of course you meant professionally speaking. Sorry. Well, usually I'd say punctual, but I think I'll leave that one out today. I'm very hard-working, first of all. When I was younger I would work 3 jobs a week just to make ends meet, and I never missed a day of any of them. Once I set my mind to something, I make absolutely sure to see it through to the end. I'm not a quitter. I'm incredibly dedicated to anything and everything that comes my way, I'm friendly…"

"You aren't here to make friends."

"Well, no." Emma shifted, "But it's important to be able to communicate with people well and in a way in which they appreciate, especially in a business like this."

"Hmm." Regina paused for a moment as if to consider this. "You're… older than the other applicants." she raised her eyebrow in question.

"Excuse me?" Emma spluttered, "Wow, right for the jugular. College is expensive, I had to save up for a little longer before I could get started. But I majored in journalism, top of my class."

"Yes, I can read. I was simply wondering if a junior position as a personal assistant was really what you require at this stage in your life. I'm fully aware of the prospects that a job at Runway magazine can present you with, Miss Swan. Believe me, enough employees have scarpered at the first whiff of a new job opening in the Elias-Clark Group. But a million girls would kill for this job, and I'd rather you didn't waste my time, or theirs, by applying for a job you have no passion for."

"Look, Miss Mills. I know you're probably looking at me and wondering what the hell I'm doing at a fashion magazine. I can't pretend to be one of those girls who grew up poring over those models you dress up in clothes that cost more than my rent. I love to write. It's as simple as that. I admit that when I applied for the job maybe I had my mind set on brighter things, but I did a little digging, and to be honest the figures speak for themselves. Before you got here, this magazine was a sinking ship, but you've turned it around into a multi-million dollar business. Yeah, maybe the articles in Runway aren't the things I'd choose to read with my morning coffee, but they're smartly written. And insightful, and just downright impressive. You aren't just one of the best editors out there today Miss Mills, you are the best. I realised over the past few days just how much I could learn from you and your company. Plus, I can collect coffee and copies better than anyone else in the damn state. And who better to show that to than the editor-in-chief of Runway magazine?"

Emma could have sworn she saw a smile play at the corner of Regina's lips. "Indeed. My apologies, Miss Swan, but I actually have a meeting I need to get to. It's regrettable we didn't have more time to talk."

"Not at all, that's my fault."

"Yes, it is."

"I'm sorry for wasting your time. And mine, I guess." Emma sighed and turned towards the door.

"Miss Swan…" Regina called after her, and the woman in question turned hesitantly. "I will see you on Monday at 9am sharp."

"Really? I got the job? Oh, I could kiss you!" Emma let her excitement get away with her. Regina, who had before now allowed her gaze to return to the leather-bound diary in front of her, looked up once more. She let a cursory glance sweep Emma's body, and the blonde squirmed under her gaze.

"That will be all." Regina mused, before looking down at the diary again.

Belle French had been delighted when Emma told her she'd been hired. She had the feeling it was more of a relief than happiness, however, and the list she had sent Emma home with was nothing to be pleased about.

Her first official task in her new position was to bring the coffee. Not too difficult in principle, at least until someone shut a door in her face and the cups launched into the air and all over her interview dress. Emma scurried home to change, regrettably into jeans and a smart-ish shirt, before going back to get yet more coffees and holding onto them so tightly that her hands almost shook.

Thankfully, Emma didn't rely on herself to get through the morning without a hiccup, and had left an hour before she needed to. Even after her detour, she still got to the office with 5 minutes to spare, and dropped off hers and Belle's coffee before knocking on Regina's office with the final one.

"Come in," Emma opened the door and found Regina stood over her desk, a pile of photos spread out in front of her and a perplexed expression on her face. "Ah, Miss Swan. Nice of you to join us. And early, no less!"

"I told you, last week was a one off thing. Coffee." Emma held it out, but when Regina made no effort to acknowledge it she placed it on an empty sliver of desk.

"Here, have a look at these photos. Which one do you think should be the cover for spring?"

"I'm not really much of an art person."

"I'm not asking you to critique the Mona Lisa here, Miss Swan. I just want your opinion."

"Right." Emma looked down at the array of photos laid out in front of her, and felt the heat of eyes on her. "This one." She pointed to a photo near the middle of the pile.

"Really?"

"Yep. Fits the season, and you can see the clothes well. That's the whole point, right?" Emma tried to justify her decision.

"Interesting. Ok, that will be all." Regina plucked Emma's proffered photo from the pile and began to gather the others. Emma took that as her cue to leave.

"Oh, and Emma." The woman in question turned back. "Could you not have at least ironed your shirt? You work in the fashion industry now. Most people want to make a good impression on their first day."

Emma blushed. "Sorry, there was a coffee incident and I had to go home and change."

"You didn't burn yourself, did you?"

"Nope, I shoved a load of ice down there when I got back."

"Good. I would hate for you to risk your life just to collect my Starbucks."

"You don't need to worry about that. I'd sacrifice your coffee in a heartbeat if I had to."

Regina smirked, "I'm glad to hear that. Were all of your other dresses unclean?"

"I… actually only own one dress. I really wanted to make an effort, I swear to you. I'm taking this seriously. It's just like I said, college is expensive." Emma shrugged in finish.

"I see. Just a moment." Regina walked to the back of her desk and rummaged around in a drawer. "Here. Company credit card. Use it to buy yourself some work clothes."

"No, I can't accept this."

"You're well within your rights to get a clothing allowance included in your job here. Well, the writers are, but I'm sure we can bend the rules just this once."

"Thanks, that's… really awesome of you." Emma frowned, turning the card over in her hand as if it was fake.

"No need to sound so surprised, dear. That will be all."

Emma was surprised at Regina's kindness, and though she was undoubtedly the kind of boss who took no prisoners, she finished her first day with an odd sense of excitement for the time ahead.

That night, Emma took her roommate Mary Margaret out shopping with her on Regina's company credit card. While she went to shops a little more upmarket than her usual thrift stores, she was incredibly cautious about how much she was spending, and kept a mental tally with the idea that she would one day pay back every cent.

"You know Emma, I still can't believe this." Mary Margaret said from behind a pile of bags back at their apartment, "I thought she was supposed to be some kind of evil mastermind?"

"Maybe she loves me." Emma jokes, and Mary Margaret gives her a look.

"Oh gods, Emma. I know that look. Don't get your hopes up."

"You act like I'm completely hopeless! Sure, maybe I have a teeny crush on her. She's such a badass, I think I had a crush on her before I even saw what she looks like."

"Well, just don't get yourself hurt."

"You know me, Mary. I won't let that happen."

The next day, Emma showed up at work right on time in a new mid-thigh length black dress, with her red leather jacket and matching shoes. She felt a little uncomfortable at first, but after Red from reception actually whistled at her, she managed to gain enough confidence to march into Regina's office with a smile on her face and un-spilled coffee in her hand.

"Good morning, Regina."

"Good morning. Goodness, and don't we look like we belong." Regina gave Emma a signal to turn so she could see the full outfit.

"You really think so?"

"You look gorgeous, dear."

Emma blushed, and fumbled in her jacket pocket for the company card. "Thanks again for this. I'm going to pay you back every cent, and I won't argue on that."

"Very well. Now, onto today."

The next couple of months passed, amazingly, without incident. While Emma would never call Regina her friend, she was surprised at how much her boss had trusted her, and she couldn't help but pick up on pangs of jealousy from her fellow co-workers when she was selected, once again, to help on a special task.

The one thing she was yet to be trusted with, however was the book. The book was a mock-up of the upcoming magazine, and it was Belle's job to transfer it between departments before delivering it to Regina's home for her final approval. Belle guarded the book with her life, and Emma had the feeling that Belle felt that if she were to ever lose the book, that would be the end of her career.

Today was Friday, 'Book day' as far as Belle's schedule went. She, however, hadn't shown up for work, and Emma was beginning to wonder if she was supposed to do something about it. After ignoring the situation all day, about an hour before Emma was due to go home, she decided to call her.

"H… hello?" A gruff voice answered.

"Belle? You ok?" Emma asked unsurely.

"Yeah, I'm just… just…" Belle sneezed, "Some kind of evil soul-sucking flu. I'll be in in about half an hour to pick up the book."

"Look, do you want me to do it? I'll take care of it, I promise. I won't drop it, or lose it. I'll guard it with my life."

"Emma, you're a saviour!" Belle cried down the phone before descending into a coughing fit. "The book is in the right hand drawer of my desk. Take it round this evening after work. Let yourself in, place it on the table next to the staircase, and leave. Don't hang around."

"Ok, will do. Take care." Emma hung up the phone, and went in search of the precious book.

Emma felt uneasy about letting herself into another person's home. Nevertheless, the door creaked open and she walked in past it hastily, in search of the staircase.

As she turned towards the left side of the house, she could hear muffled voices, evidently raised, from through the doors in front of her. Cursing herself for picking now to bring the book round, she located the table she desired and marched towards it.

"Psst." Emma heard someone whisper, and gave a cursory look around before continuing to the table she had been instructed to put the book on.

"Hey!" The same voice called, louder this time. Turning to the left, she saw the figure of a young boy crouched on the stairs. "Where's Belle?"

"Belle couldn't make it today, so she asked me to bring the book." Emma whispered, looking around hastily with a paranoid expression. "Sorry I can't really talk, kid. Shouldn't you be in bed, anyway? I'm sure your parents wouldn't like you being up this late talking to strangers."

"Robin isn't my dad." The child responded, his chin resting on his knees.

"Oh. Sorry. Well anyway, if I know your mom at all, and I think I do, she'd want you to be in bed."

"I can't sleep while they're fighting." He mumbled. After another apologetic glance towards the closed door, Emma perched on the stair next to where the boy was sat.

"I know how that feels. It sucks, right? Sometimes grown-ups don't get that they're upsetting other people as well as themselves. What's your name, kid?"

"Henry."

"Don't be upset, Henry. Grown-ups do this sometimes, and I know it's sad and not nice to hear, but I bet it would sound a lot quieter if you were tucked up in bed. Shall I go up with you?" Emma smiled warmly at the child, who considered this for a moment before smiling back.

"Ok. Will you read from my story book?"

"Oh, I really don't know if…" At that moment, the door opened. Regina and her husband, Robin as Henry had said his name was, both emerged from an adjoining room. Regina had definitely been crying.

"Miss Swan, what on earth are you doing here?" Regina ran a hasty hand across her cheeks, and straightened out invisible creases in her shirt.

"I came to drop off the book, and.."

"Well, you've done that now. Leave." Robin stood in the corner of the room shifting between his feet as Regina raised her voice and Emma regretted ever coming into the house.

"I'm really sorry. Henry was upset, and I thought I would tuck him in."

"My son's feelings are not and never will be any of your concern, Miss Swan. Please leave. Now!" Regina's voice raised again, but cracked, and Emma turned and ran out of the house before she said any more.

The next few days at work were awkward to say the least, and only made worse by the daily visits from Robin which almost exclusively ended in screaming matches. The following Thursday, Emma was alone in her office when Robin burst in, and without an invitation, continued into Regina's office.

Emma tried with all her might to ignore the fight that was going on, instead focusing on Regina's schedule for the next week. However, it proved fruitless when the pair's voices raised even more.

"I can't compete with a dead woman, Robin." Regina shouted abruptly, and Emma wished the ground would swallow her up.

"I'm not asking you to!"

"How could you expect me to think anything else when every other word out of your mouth is Marian? 'Marian this', 'Marian that', 'Marian made time for me in the evenings', 'Marian stayed at home all day and ironed my shirts', 'Marian was some sort of ethereal princess and you're an evil monster'."

"Regina, stop. You're being irrational."

"No, you stop. Stop pretending like this charade of a relationship was anything more than you trying to replace your dead wife with someone else. Stop pretending that I was anything other than desperate for some semblance of affection. Stop pretending like you ever actually loved me."

"Regina…"

"Not today, Robin. Leave before I get security to escort you from the building."

After a few more muffled words were exchanged, Robin emerged from Regina's office looking about as embarrassed as was humanly possible, and scuttled off towards the elevators.

Emma was at a loss. Ordinarily, if Regina was Regina Mills, regular human being, Emma would have gone straight in there to comfort her. But this was Regina Mills, Boss and Official Big Deal, and Emma felt like any attempts at kind words would fall on deaf ears. She deliberated for another 30 seconds, and eventually decided to go in on the pretence of dropping off Regina's schedule, and seeing where to go from there.

Standing hesitantly, Emma took a deep breath in before knocking twice on the door.

"Robin…"

"It's me." Emma called out. When she received no response, she opened the door.

Regina was stood at the window, facing out onto the skyline. She had her arms crossed over her stomach, with one hand up to her face.

"I've got your schedule for next week."

"Thank you Emma, just leave it on my desk." Regina sniffed, and still made no effort to turn around.

"The receptionist called from downstairs, she said your dress for the benefit tonight's arrived."

"Hmm. That ought to be fun." Regina snorted, evidently meaning the exact opposite of what she said. A few moments of silence passed, and before she had the chance to change her mind, Emma walked up to Regina and placed a nervous hand on her shoulder.

"Are you ok?" Emma asked softly.

"I'm fine, Miss Swan. Thank you." Nevertheless, she turned her head a little towards Emma's hand, and bent it so their skin almost touched.

A knock at the door made Emma's hand fly off Regina's shoulder, and after a man feebly walked in and dropped a file on Regina's desk, he left again without saying a word. Regina's head was once again facing the window.

"I feel as though I should apologise for the other night."

"No it's ok, I shouldn't have hung around. Rude of me."

"No, not that. I shouldn't have snapped at you. It was uncalled for. I know I have a certain reputation for that type of thing, but not when it isn't justified. I spoke to Henry, and he explained to me how you were trying to make him feel better."

"All part of the service." Emma smiled, though it was met by Regina's back.

"Do you know how difficult it is for me, Emma? In this business? Single mothers with young sons don't become editor-in-chiefs. There's almost an unspoken rule about it. And then Robin came along, and I thought it seemed like the perfect opportunity."

Emma cleared her throat, confused as to why Regina was suddenly confiding in her. "Opportunity for what?"

"To have it all." Regina answered simply, still looking out of the window with her back to Emma. "I'm getting too old for the fashion business, and I feel a pressure to step down, become a 'family woman'. Gods, how ridiculous an idea. I like to think that it doesn't have an effect on me, but you can only sit around a sea of 20 year old models for so long before you begin to feel out of place." A silence fell over the two. "I hope I'm not making you feel uncomfortable sharing this with you. It's just you see, I don't have any friends. I'm not sure who I'm supposed to talk about this with."

"No, no, it's ok. Miss M… Regina, I hope I'm not way out of line for saying this, and you can fire me on the spot if you want to, but… you're the most beautiful woman I think I've ever seen. Seriously. Far more than those models you shoot."

"Emma, you really don't have to.."

"Hey, I mean it! I'd much rather see you on the front of Runway in one of those stupid fur things."

Regina half-snorted, "Those -stupid- fur things are responsible for your wages, Emma."

"I know, I know. But anyway, your attractiveness is the bottom of the list of things I could name that are great about you."

"You don't need to do that. I pay you to work, not to feed my ego."

"Well, the offer stands. Anyway, about this benefit tonight. If you want, I could…"

"Miss Swan, are you asking me on a date?" Regina turned to face her, an incredulous look on her face.

"Oh. Oh. I was actually going to offer to babysit the kid, but…"

"I see. You needn't worry about Henry, he has a sleepover. That will be all."

"Wait. I'll go with you, if you want me to?"

"No, it's a ridiculous idea. It's just that even I'm not exempt from the constant scrutiny of the elite. Every year it's 'Ah Regina, Robin. Still no wedding planned?', and now this year it'll be 'Poor Regina, alone again'."

"You… you broke up?"

"We did. A few days ago."

"Well for what it's worth, I'm sorry. If you want…"

"If I want what?"

"I could always you know, pretend to be your girlfriend? Then it won't be 'sad-sack pity-party' Regina, it'll be 'Wow, how'd Regina find such a good-looking woman? Remember that Robin? He was ghastly.'" Emma imitated what she imagined the elite of the fashion world to sound like, eliciting a snort from the brunette.

"I suppose if it's not too much trouble, it would be nice not to go alone. Plus there'll be a lot of big-wigs from the Elias-Clark group there, and it might be good for you to do some networking."

"Great, it's a date!"

"The limo will stop by to pick you up at 7. Don't be late. Oh, and dress appropriately, I beg of you."

At 6:59, Emma peered down from her bedroom window just as a black limousine pulled up. Giving herself a final check in the mirror, she hopped down the stairs barefoot, shoes once again in her hand.

Emma had never really been a flowy-dress kind of woman, and as this seemed like a flowy-dress kind of event, she'd decided on a suit instead. Luckily, she'd purchased it on her shopping spree when she'd first got the job, but hadn't actually worn it yet because it seemed too tailored and too formal for a day-to-day outfit. She hoped it would pass tonight though.

Regina was clearly pushing the boat out, Emma thought as a man in a chauffer's hat opened the door to the car for her. She thanked him with a shy smile, and sat down next to Regina, wearing the most gorgeous dress Emma had ever seen. It was dark, it was regal, and it was most definitely Regina.

"My my Miss Swan, wonders never cease."

"I know, I look great." Emma signalled herself, "Sorry. I might have had a drink or two to calm my nerves."

"If you dare make a show of me or the magazine tonight, don't think I'll hesitate to fire you."

"I'm not a moron, I just needed a little liquid courage. In case you hadn't noticed, all of this," Emma pointed to the limo, "Isn't really my usual scene."

"It will serve you well to get all the practice with these events that you can, in that case. Use tonight to your advantage. Work the room. Be charming. Be sure to mention you're in the business."

"Got it. So, for arguments sake. I'm saying I'm what… your girlfriend?"

"I'll introduce you as Emma. Let's go from there." Regina sighed, and if Emma hadn't known any better she would have sworn she was nervous.

"I can do that."

Overwhelmed didn't even begin to describe how Emma felt as she stepped out of the limo and onto a red carpet. Photographers were shouting Regina's name and any hesitance she had shown in the ride there had completely dissipated, with her posing with ease for them. Emma, however, was absolutely terrified, and wishing she'd worn boots rather than stilettos, but Regina sensed her discomfort and took her hand.

The photographers began to call for her too, or at least, she assumed that's who they meant by "Blondie", and she tried to force a smile on her face as Regina whispered closely into her ear that she needed to relax.

Thankfully, finally, they got inside, and made a bee-line for one of the waiters carrying around trays of champagne. As Regina guided her, still holding her hand, to their table, Emma took a moment to glance around at the room. It was decorated how she'd imagined; all deep oak furniture and spotlights, a large dancefloor filled with people conversing and laughing.

"We'll sit for a few minutes and then we can split up to do a round of the room. Are you ok, dear?" Regina whispered again into her ear, placing a hand on her upper arm.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Will be." Emma smiled reassuringly, as Regina separated from her and began to greet each member of the table one by one. After hugging each, she turned back to Emma.

"Everybody, this is Emma Swan. Emma, this is Claude, Jemima, Octavia and Timothy."

Emma went around the table offering a sweaty hand to each, with every one of them rejecting it in favour of a hug and cheek kiss.

"Regina, she is absolutely divine. This suit! Fantastic!" Jemima, a loud, brash woman in her 50s spoke to the brunette as if Emma wasn't there.

"I let her pick it herself." Regina responded, and the table laughed.

"So, how did the two of you meet?" Claude asked as Emma took a large gulp of her champagne.

"Oh, on the circuit, you know. I'm a journalist." Emma announced confidently, and everyone nodded as if they expected her to continue with the story. When she didn't, other conversation around the table soon opened up.

Sensing how tense she was, Regina placed a hand on Emma's leg. Emma turned to see what she wanted, but Regina was looking over to the opposite side of the table, where Timothy was talking.

Conversation continued easily through dinner, as Emma realised that the people Regina had sat them with truly weren't as awful as she first thought they would be. Still, she stuck to Regina's side like glue, and it wasn't until people once again began to circulate that Emma decided to join.

"Are you ready to brave it, darling?" Regina asked warmly as Emma stood up.

"Yeah, I'm going for it."

"Just remember to be yourself. They'll love you." Emma was a little taken aback by this, even knowing it was an act, but even more so when Regina leaned in and gave her a sweet peck on the lips. Emma felt a smile threatening at the corner of her lips, and turned to begin to walk away.

"Regina, she's wonderful. What a lucky thing you are!" Jemima once again sung Emma's praises, and Emma hesitated in her step just long enough to hear Regina agree.

A couple of hours later, Emma returned to her seat. Their four neighbouring guests had long since moved on, and Regina and Emma had the table to themselves.

"Well? How did it go?"

"Really great, actually," Emma smiled coyly to herself, "I've got the cards of quite a few people who seemed really interested in what I had to say. A couple even said maybe they'd send some freelancing work my way."

"Emma, that's fantastic!" Regina lifted her glass, "To Emma Swan. Soon to be published writer."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Anyway, how was your night?"

"Dull. These things always are. Of course, I didn't mind having everyone coming to me positively glowing with delight at having met you. It seems you're quite the catch."

"Tell me something I don't know." Emma winked.

"Indeed. Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"When you had your interview, you mentioned you knew of my reputation."

"Yeah?"

"I just wondered why it hadn't put you off applying."

"I'm not afraid of you. Well, that's a lie. You terrify me. But it's sort of in a good way? This magazine clearly means the world to you, and you try hard to keep it succeeding. People can't argue with you for that."

"But even so, you've been so… friendly. With me. I'm not under any delusion that I'm in any way special or different to any other people you interact with, it's just… I'm not used to it, is all."

"You're a nice person, Regina. You're intelligent, and dedicated, and caring, and.. I don't know. I just enjoy speaking to you, I guess."

"Well, thank you. Truly."

"You're welcome." Emma smiled, and conversation quietened between them for a few moments. "So… Robin."

"What about him?"

"You miss him?"

"No. No, I don't. I think I'm relieved more than anything."

"Oh?"

"To finally be able to explore other avenues, other possibilities. Five years. Five years we were together, and not once did he even entertain the notion of marriage."

"Did you want it?"

Regina paused. "Truthfully? I'm not sure. It was expected, no doubt. Perhaps I could have used the reassurance that being in such a commitment would have bought me. But it wasn't meant to be. Honestly, we've been running on empty for at least a year now."

"Sucks." Emma offered, her only condolence. With this, Regina emitted a laugh. Then a little more. Then more. Soon, Regina was laughing loudly in a way Emma had never heard before. Other guests were turning to stare, wondering who the mysterious blonde was that had evoked such a reaction. Blushing, and nodding at one or two faces, Emma leant in to Regina.

"Why are you laughing?"

"You're a breath of fresh air, Miss Swan. You truly are."

"Well, good." Emma smiled warmly. "Anyway, I think it's about time we were getting home. It's late."

"Will you accompany me to my door?"

"Of course, we're on a date!" Emma exclaimed as if it was obvious, and grabbed her jacket from her chair before grabbing Regina's hand.

The two arrived at Regina's house a little after 1am, and Emma kept her promise of walking Regina to her door.

"I had a good night tonight, Emma."

"You sound surprised."

"I am." Regina smiled coyly, fiddling around in her bag for her keys.

"I think maybe… we've had a lot to drink. I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage." Emma sighed, watching as Regina tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

The brunette looked up, and smiled again. "One day at a time."