Creating a Storm
Summary: Jefferson is the only one who knows. And she can't shut him up, well then, Rumplestiltskin had better. Contains a reference to my "Foul Weather" story, so you may want to go read that first, if you haven't already.
She never meant to run into him.
It happens by accident. Regina doesn't make many excursions out of the house these days. The town may not quite be calling out for her blood at the moment – largely because they realize how capable she is of defending herself – but she still wouldn't put it past a disgruntled citizen to try and off her, and she doesn't want to put herself in a position where she has to choose between defending her own life and breaking her promise to Henry.
However, she does occasionally have to venture outside and get on with the business of living. It is during one of these mundane excursions that she encounters Jefferson.
They stare at each other for a long minute. Neither one knows precisely what to say. Finally, Regina gives him a cold smile.
"Hello, Jefferson. How's Grace?"
The anger that flashes in his eyes is satisfaction enough for her.
"Better, now that she knows who I am. Tell me Regina, how is it you're still alive? I was sure Rumplestiltskin would kill you after he found out –"
"You sent him after me?"
He looks so damn smug. "I freed Belle and told her to go to Gold, to tell him that you locked her up. I figured that would be the end of you."
"You son of a –"
"You kept me from my daughter! For years and years! And then you dangled hope in front of me like a carrot and then you snatched it away!"
"Like you did with my Daniel?"
"Daniel? You're going to compare him to my child?"
"I loved him!"
Jefferson scoffs. "Oh come on, you can't have loved him that much."
She stares at him, incredulous. "How can you say that?"
He sneers, getting his face right in hers. "Tell me, your majesty, how long was it after your true love's death that you crawled into Rumplestiltskin's bed? Was Daniel's body even cold before you –"
Regina slaps him.
Jefferson reels back. He wipes the blood off his lip, but he's laughing, triumphant at the look on her face.
"You don't like to be reminded of the truth, do you? And I bet you don't want anyone else to know either. Imagine how humiliating it would be if that got out…"
"You keep you're mouth shut, or I'll –"
"Break your promise to Henry and use magic on me? Yeah, I know about that. Would you really risk losing your son just to spare yourself a little embarrassment?"
"Don't push me, Jefferson!"
"Don't push me, Regina. If anything happens to me or my daughter, Henry will never forgive you. So you better play nice. Your hold on that poor boy is tenuous enough as it is. If I were you, I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize it."
He stalks off, leaving Regina standing there, furious and impotent. There was a time, she remembers, when he wouldn't have dared to behave this way. A time when he used to be genuinely afraid of her, when she had been at the height of her power, in all her rage and her grief over Daniel's death …
Jefferson is not afraid of her now.
But she does know someone he might still be afraid of.
Why does it always have to come back to him?
Regina makes her way to Gold's shop. He's at the counter, pouring over a map, a pained look on his face. For a moment, a strange sort of curiosity grips her, and she wants to ask him why he looks so upset. Then she reminds herself that she doesn't care, and that his pain is something to be relished without question.
Besides, even if she did ask, she's sure he wouldn't tell her what's bothering him anyway.
She's not the one he confides in.
"We need to talk."
He looks up at her, scowling. "And just what could we possibly have to talk about?"
"Jefferson."
Gold rolls his eyes. "I'm not interested in discussing that annoying portal-jumper –"
"He knows things, Gold. Things I don't want other people to know."
Gold smirks. "Yes, I would imagine he does."
"No, you don't get it. He threatened to run his mouth off –"
"You think I care if he blathers about your transgressions to the whole town?"
"That's not what I'm talking about!" Regina shouts.
"Then what are you talking about, your majesty?"
Regina takes a deep breath. "Are … are we alone in here? Is …" Is Belle here? "Is anyone else here?"
He eyes her cautiously. "No, we're alone."
Regina hesitates. She's trying to find a way of saying it without actually saying it. She doesn't want to upset their mutual antagonism any more than she has to. Over the years, they'd both gotten so good at pretending that part of their association had never happened, that they had never been…
"Jefferson knows things about … both of us," Regina says. She hopes that makes it clear enough, but he's giving her a blank look. Gods, is he deliberately being dense? She feels her face flush red.
"Do – do you remember that night at Maleficent's –"
"Shut up!"
Finally, he gets it. "I'm not the one who needs to shut up," she hisses at him. "Jefferson does. He's not particularly afraid of me, but a threat from you might go a long way. Do you actually think I'd want anyone know about –" She blushes deeper. "Damn it, you need to fix this!"
He looks away from her. His jaw clenches. "Fine," he says softly. "I'll take care of it."
"Good," she says stiffly. She's certainly not going to thank him.
Regina is halfway out the door when the sound of his voice, so faint she thinks she might be imagining it, makes her pause.
"I created the storm."
She turns to stare at him, incredulous. "What? What did you just say?"
"I created the storm," he repeats, softly but firmly. She doesn't like how he's looking at her. She doesn't like it all. "That night at Maleficient's , I created the storm that stranded us there."
Regina is seized by the wild urge to run, to sprint into the street and get as far away from him as possible. But the same time, she feels rooted the ground, pinned by his gaze, by the power he once had over her, the power that in this instant seems to have come back in full force.
"Why?" She whispers.
His lips twist in a bitter smile. "Why do you think?"
As she realizes the implication, Regina's eyes fill with tears.
"You're a bastard," she hisses at him.
"And you're a bitch," he hisses back.
Regina turns and flees from the shop.
The skies grow dark, and it begins to rain.