Regina climbed the staircase of her apartment building with heavy steps after yet another long day. She couldn't wait for a relaxing night in, maybe a soaking bath before settling in front of her computer.

Finally entering her apartment, she went straight to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of wine and took a drink out of the glass. She let out a long sigh before putting the glass down. The laptop on the coffee table caught her eye, the laptop which had become associated with her new favorite pastime: Emma. Emma who didn't know who she was. Emma who befriended a complete stranger. Emma with the beautiful smile. Emma who if she had all the facts and knew she was would probably want nothing to do with her and all the drama that came along with who she was.

On second thought, maybe she would skip the bath and go straight on the computer and indulge in a healthy dose of bittersweet torture. It was rare for her, yearning after something that she might not ever have. It was never supposed to happen. She just wanted to let Emma know that she had the most beautiful smile that turned her cheeks into adorable little apples. After all, she couldn't be blamed for how Emma received the compliment. Apparently, compliments like that were rare and Emma's eye was caught as Regina's had been. She had had good intentions, innocent intentions as it were. At least to begin with. But with every interaction, Regina wanted more. How couldn't she? Emma had the smile, the wit, the laughter, the kindness, the everything.

She would just quickly check in. Maybe Emma wouldn't be online. But who was she kidding? These days everyone had Facebook on their phones. No one could ever really be offline.

She grabbed her wine once more and took a sip as she took a seat on the couch. Finding the control for the stereo she played whatever cd was currently in it which happened to be soft jazz.

The computer showed her Facebook page as soon as she opened it, a definite sign that perhaps she frequented it a bit too much.

"Here goes…" She said to herself.

Hi.

She took another sip of wine as a minute passed. Another minute lead her to Google, which in turn showed her all the latest gossip about her. She knew that it was a bad idea. It was always a bad idea to google herself, but she just couldn't help herself. Needless to say, that most, if not all, of the things written about her wasn't true, but she still wanted to know what people were reading about her, what people reading it were made to believe about her. Thankfully before she dove too far into the gossip, she was saved from the seven hells of the tabloids by the familiar ding of a message received on Facebook.

Hey yourself. I was actually hoping to talk to you tonight.

Regina caught herself smiling. She had been doing that a lot more lately and she was well aware of the reason. It had started when she and Emma had first started talking. It was such a peculiar way to meet. She had just wanted an anonymous account, where she only befriended her closest friends and family, and where she didn't have a million notifications every day. It was basically a clean slate. A completely empty profile that she could do with as she wished. It was the most refreshing thing, and it was something she hadn't realized that she had been lacking. Then Facebook had decided to suggest friends based on peoples' proximity to her location. And then lo and behold, there she was.

The moment she saw Emma's tiny profile picture in that suggestion list she knew that she had to message her, or live to regret it. In truth, the whole thing had been out of her hands. She couldn't be held responsible for the knee-jerk-reaction she had to the picture Facebook shoved in her face. If anyone was to blame, it was Facebook.

Several messages exchanged, a friend request sent, and many more messages after that and here they were. She hadn't expected it to get this far. She couldn't have known that she would, they would both, be in this deep. And through it all, she couldn't help thinking whether the conversations would have been the same if she wasn't using her anonymous account. She would wonder if Emma would've made the same jokes, talked about herself in the same manner and asked the same things about her as she had if she had known who she was actually talking to. More than anything, she would wonder if Emma would ever have known her as intimately as she does now, known her better than anyone ever has or ever wanted to know her, if she had known that Regina was a celebrity in disguise. And she would dread the answer to those questions.

I feel like I should be concerned.

No, not at all.

It's just…

Don't leave me in suspense now.

Well, you know how we've been talking for a couple of months now and how it's been great?

At least, it has been great for me and I mean I hope that it's been great for you too, cause that would be pretty great…

Emma, you're rambling. And it has been great.

Yeah, and I thought maybe…

Maybe you'd want to meet up. I mean I see you in pictures all the time and you see me, we talk on the phone and it's wonderful, but I can't help wanting to meet you and see everything happen live so to speak.

She should, indeed, have been concerned. Somehow she had managed to keep her identity hidden from Emma. All she could do was thank God for her glasses and the fact that Emma seemed to be so far from expecting a celebrity that she just assumed that there wasn't one to begin with. It was funny how far the mind would go to give the most logical explanations for things that may seems farfetched.

If they were to meet up as Emma had suggested, Emma would be sure to notice the paparazzi following her around. Regina was not ashamed of who she was. She had worked hard to get to where she was now. She was, however, afraid. In the time spent with Emma, she had managed to grow attached and she feared another heartbreak. Emma brought back the spring in her steps and Emma could take that away again. She wanted the spring and the smiles, and more than anything she wanted the touches. She wanted Emma, in real life, on Facebook, on the phone, in any way she was allowed; in any way Emma wanted her, if she wanted her…

Are you still there?

Yes. Sorry.

Maybe we should meet, as you say.

So that's a yes?

I may or may not have just squealed.

There's something I'm worried about though.

Should she tell her now and give her some time to prepare before seeing her? Maybe she wouldn't even want to see her if she knew? Or should she keep it a secret and hope that maybe Emma just wanted the person despite the fame? After all, she hadn't lied per se, unless omission counted as a lie. Which Regina didn't.

And what's that?

Whether you'll be able to keep your hands off me or not.

Ha ha ha, I could say the same.

You would indeed have to worry, because I can let you know right now: I won't be able to keep my hands off you. You have managed to take my breath away in every way possible thus far; I doubt seeing you in real life will be any different.

You're too charming for your own good.

So when do you want to do this thing?

It seemed Emma had her mind set on making a date as soon as possible, while Regina wanted to postpone it as much as possible and delay what could possibly become one of her worst days yet. But on the other side of the coin, she wanted more than anything to see, talk and touch Emma all at the same time.

Are you available on Friday?

Free as a bird. Dinner?

It's a date. I'll make reservations and text you the address.

I can't wait.

Me neither.

A content smile graced Regina's red lips.

I have to go to bed since I have an early day tomorrow.

Sweet dreams, Emma.

Goodnight, Regina.

As she went to take a drink from her glass, she noticed that her once exceedingly full glass was now empty. How she hadn't noticed was beyond her. But then again, Emma always managed to engross her in any conversation leaving the world around her a background buzz.

She rinsed the glass and left it in the dish washer before dragging herself to her bedroom. Despite the concerns she had about meeting Emma, the anticipation she felt overwhelmed any other emotion. She was going to meet the woman she may very well be in love with and the fear and hope she felt simultaneously left her in a bittersweet state of mind.

She stripped off her red dress followed by her bra and underwear before slipping into the warmth of her bed.

Meeting Emma was a good thing. It had to be. No matter what happened, no matter what her feelings were about it, meeting Emma was a good thing. And after Friday she would know either way. After Friday she would either be the happiest she had ever been or quite possibly the most miserable she had ever been. Either way she would know.