Some people believe in fate, or that people had a destiny. Some people believe that everyone's life had its correct course, but Emma definitely knew otherwise. If she had a destiny, it would be one far better than hunting bad guys unofficially, and a sleazy apartment in a run-down block in central Boston. People picture Boston as a sunny, pretty city. All that Emma saw were the bad guys trying to get away with money or a crime, and the constant reminder to pay her bills. Her destiny would be different, her fate would be more exciting, more rewarding. Sure, she got a rush each time she caught one of those bastards trying to embezzle cash, but it was all for a tiny one off payment that went solely to her bills. She was stuck in a rut, in the middle of a city filled with both swanky businesses and slums merged into one.
That's why, when Emma walked into Regina Mills one afternoon, she knew there was no fate or destiny that brought them together, instead it was one scolding hot cup of coffee.
Or maybe it was a different kind of destiny.
The day was grim, dark clouds and varied rainfall covered Boston. People hurried, running for warmth and respite from the drizzle. Emma regretted choosing to get a coffee at her favourite coffee shop, but when caffeine calls, it calls loudly. And she wasn't in the mood for the cheap coffee she had in her kitchen cupboards; she wasn't even sure it was coffee, hence why she was covering her face with her hood, cradling a hot cup of coffee, and running back to her apartment on a grim Saturday afternoon. That was until she bashed into something, or rather, someone.
She felt her coffee scold her hand, yelping as her hand flew away from the source of the heat, her mind not quite focusing on the form she'd just ran into.
"Shit," she muttered under her breath.
Once the cold rain had cooled her burning hand down enough, she glanced up, past the hood covering her upper face. She saw a woman pulling fiercely at her silk shirt, pulling the stained area from her skin.
The brunette snarled at Emma, "Shit would be the correct term, yes."
"Shit."
"Now you've lost control of your vocabulary," the woman opposite Emma sneered, "I would appreciate it if you would move out my way, so I can go and change my shirt which you ruined."
Emma tried to ignore the scathing tone of voice coming from the shorter brunette woman. She'd be pretty pissed if someone spilt coffee on her, but she felt some soft spot for her. She was clearly the stressed, uptight business woman that Emma generally tried to avoid in the busy streets of Boston, but she felt like she couldn't just let her walk off, shirt stained and sopping wet from the rain.
"You could, er, come get a shirt from-," Emma suddenly realised she was fumbling horrendously over her words, "from my place."
The brunette looked up at the blonde, surprised, "Excuse me?"
Emma pointed at the stained shirt, "My apartment is only round the corner, and I'd hate for you to get any more soaked than what you are now."
"Well, chivalry isn't dead. But I'd rather wear my own shirts, I doubt a tank top would suit me," the business woman said, motioning to the white tank top Emma had thrown on.
Emma sighed, looking at the fine silk the brunette was wearing. Emma's tank tops really aren't her style," "How far away is your place?"
"What?"
"I said, how far away is where you're staying?" Emma questioned.
"Around 15 minutes walk from here."
"Well, that's not going to happen. You gonna come to mine, and we'll get you a new shirt and put yours in the wash," Emma said, turning the brunette round slightly.
"You're very forward. How do I know you're not going to take me to your apartment and murder me? Or rob me?"
"You don't. You just have to trust me, Miss- " Emma realised she didn't know the brunette's name. Here she was, being chivalrous and she didn't even know the woman's name.
"Mills. Regina Mills," the brunette said, smirking.
Emma stalled, knowing she recognised the name from somewhere, "Wait. Regina Mills? As in Mills Incorporated? As in that massive company that's like top of the Forbes profit list?"
"The one and the same. Although I'm surprised you know about the Forbes list," Regina glanced at the battered leather jacket covering the blonde's shoulders. She clearly wasn't rolling in cash.
Emma laughed, surprising Regina, "There's a lot you don't know about me, Miss Mills, but first, we need to get you out of that shirt."
Regina blushed, knowing that the blonde didn't mean it in that way at all.
Emma fumbled, seeing the red cover the brunette's olive skin, "You- you know what I mean."
"Well, lead the way. You seemingly won't let me walk away from here, and I do have work to get back to," Regina murmured, knowing that she didn't really have time to stand dawdling all day, but getting out of the rain did seem like a welcome reprieve.
"Er, of course. It's just a block or two away," Emma mumbled, suddenly embarrassed. She just invited a swanky business woman into her home, her crappy little apartment - all because she was feeling slightly sentimental and lonely.
The two women walked in an uncomfortable silence. Tension hung thick, and the raindrops fell heavier. Regardless of being soaked to the bone, neither ran, Regina saw it as beneath her, and Emma knew she'd trip and make a fool of herself.
"I'm Emma, by the way," the blonde blurted out, turning the corner to the street of her apartment, "Emma Swan. In case you wanted to know."
Regina glanced up at the 1970's style concrete building, with paint peeling, "Lovely."
"The rent isn't too bad," Emma said, waving at Bill, the elderly tenant at number 1, "and the neighbours are decent enough."
The pair came to stop outside Emma's door, the paint cracked and faded. Emma was suddenly very nervous. She couldn't exactly remember the state she'd left her apartment in when she went out this afternoon. Did she remember to throw away those take-out boxes on the counter? Was there clothes strewn all over her floor?
Emma unlocked the door, standing awkwardly, "Well, this is me. I have a washing machine that you can use."
Regina stepped into the apartment, conscious that they were both dripping water everywhere. She wiped her sodden hair out her eyes, taking in the place. It was cramped, but bare. There were few personal items, no photos. Instead, there were empty take-out boxes, a messy bed. Clearly the apartment was simply for eating and sleeping in, nothing more.
The pair stood in the middle of Emma's apartment, creating puddles of water on the flood, both waiting for the other to say something.
"The washing machines over- "
"Do you have- "
Emma couldn't work out why she couldn't just act normal. There was this perfectly normal woman in her apartment, waiting for Emma to do something, and she was just stuck. Here was Emma Swan, bailbonds-woman who chased bad guys for a living, and she was standing awkwardly in the middle of her own place.
The blonde pointed over to the small kitchen, "There's a washing machine over there, if you want to use it. And I'll just grab you a shirt."
Emma rushed into her bedroom, needing to get away from the situation. She wasn't running away, no. She was just creating space, space to think. She heard the slamming and beeping of the washing machine, proving that the brunette had decided to use it. Emma then realised that she needed to give the woman a shirt - a decent, non-wrinkled shirt. She couldn't even quickly iron anything, the ironing board was next to the washing machine. She quickly rifled through her drawers, throwing aside tank tops in an array of colours. She had nothing, absolutely nothing. There was the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company expecting a shirt, and all she had were tank tops.
She heard a faint knock on her bedroom door, cursing as she pulled out two tanktops that looked the least creased. The door opened, just as she slammed the drawers shut.
"It's only black or white, I'm afraid," Emma stuttered, focusing on the woman entering her bedroom.
Eyes front and up, Swan. No being a perv while you're attempting to be chivalrous.
"Black will do. It's more my colour," Regina said, grabbing the darker tank top. She'd never been ashamed of her body, it was something her mother had instilled in her from an early age. She was used to the fumbling words and strained eye-lines, and she could tell Emma was faltering.
"G-good."
"I put the washing machine on for half an hour. I'll be back to collect it at the end of the day, I'm afraid I have meetings to attend and paperwork to deal with," Regina said, ignoring the scratchy fabric of the shirt. She really did have things to do, and her business demeanour usually got it done. She was expecting a resigned acceptance, letting her leave to get on with her busy day.
"It's only half an hour," Emma uttered.
Regina looked up in surprise, her stoic manner usually had a more resolute effect on people, "And?"
Emma stepped awkwardly from side to side, "Well, there's no point you going back to your place when it's only half an hour."
"We clearly work in different time frames, Miss Swan," Regina murmured.
"Cmon, the CEO of Mills Incorporated can surely have half an hour for a coffee. Plus I'm sure you don't want to be walking round in my shitty tank top all day…"
"I have an awfully busy day, so I'm afraid I can't hang around," the brunette asserted.
Regina moved to exit the woman's bedroom, heels clicking on the floor despite the thin carpet. She expected to just leave. She wasn't sure why this stranger was being so insolent. She had a conference call in an hour.
Emma wasn't sure why she was being so insistent. It wasn't like they were best friends. She was some uptight, businesswoman, a type of person Emma definitely was not.
"It's just coffee. You look really stressed and having a break could probably do you good…"
Regina sighed, stalling, now painfully aware of the rubbings of her shoes and the headache constantly set at the back of her head.
"Fine, Miss-"
"Swan."
"Miss Swan, I am perfectly fine, and you cannot possibly know how I'm feeling when you only met me 10 minutes ago."
Emma grinned, "True. But I can, however, tell when people are lying. It's my secret superpower."
The brunette sighed at the childishness of her statement, turning back towards the blonde, "Fine, if it means you will stop bugging me, I will have a coffee with you." Regina hated to admit it but she knew she needed a break; the rest of her day was fully booked, and she knew she has some difficult meetings ahead of her.
Emma smiled, knowing she'd gotten through to the woman. She was clearly stressed, and Emma definitely found that coffee always helped, regardless of the situation.
"I feel like I owe you for the shirt spilling as well, so I'm buying," Emma exclaimed, grabbing the umbrella she had failed to pick up on her first outing.
Regina huffed, "I can pay for my own coffee. I assure you, I definitely have enough money…"
Emma laughed, grinning towards the other woman while she quickly locked her door, "I know you can definitely afford it, but let it be my treat. It's not every day you can buy a Forbes List CEO coffee, let me."
"How do you know about the Forbes list, Miss Swan?" Regina asked, stepping out from the apartment block and into the slight drizzle. She was quite impressed that Emma had the thought enough to hold the umbrella over both of them, even though it was merely spitting now.
"You look at my apartment and think I'm poor and uneducated, you can get off your royal high horse, your Majesty," Emma murmured, "I took some night courses in Business a year or so ago."
The comment could have been scathing or angry, but Regina knew from Emma's slight smile that she was joking.
"What do you do?" Regina asked abruptly, turning the corner that Emma motioned towards.
"I'm a bails bondwoman. I basically spend my days chasing down guys that don't hold to agreements. I don't like it' but it pays the bills…" Emma mumbled. It was nothing compared to Regina's business management job.
Regina raised her eyebrows. She knew it was a hard job that had to deal with hard people.
"Not the most respectable job, but a needed one, and a tough one," Regina complimented.
Emma smiled. Maybe this woman wasn't the stuck-up bitch she expected. The rain had just ceased as they reached the entrance of Granny's, a quaint coffee shop, just out of the way of the mainstream streets of Boston.
"Welcome to Granny's, the best coffee shop and cafe in Boston," Emma announced
Regina was used to the likes of Starbucks and other posh coffee shops that were used more for business than actually drinking coffee. She had to admit though, that this place was very lovely. A small fireplace made the place cosy and warm, contrasting the cold and wet outside. It wouldn't be somewhere Regina would ever frequent, but it was a nice change to the posh places she was expected to go to.
Following Emma to the counter, a grey haired lady grinned at the blonde and stood behind the counter.
"Emma, I didn't think you'd be back so soon. It's only been half an hour!"
"Yeah, the coffee didn't exactly go as planned," Emma murmured, glancing over at Regina, "so I'm back making it up to someone."
"It's a bit busy, with the rain and all, but I'm sure and your friend will find a place," Granny assured, waving at Regina, "Will it be your normal?"
"Please, and I guess she'll have a black coffee, no sugar."
"I'll bring it over to you when it's ready, kiddo."
Emma turned to Regina, pointing to a vacant table near the window, and more importantly near the fireplace.
"How did you know my order?" Regina asked, removing her coat and sitting down carefully, crossing her legs.
Emma laughed, dropping herself into the sofa-like chairs that she loved so much, "It wasn't hard. You're totally a black coffee person. It was either that or some non-fat soy milk caramel macchiato or something."
"Anything else is too sweet," Regina said, wondering how Emma had even guessed. The woman perplexed her.
A slightly awkward silence settled over the pair, people talking and cups clinking against saucers in the background.
Emma started to panic. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, Regina Mills was completely different from anyone she'd ever really talked to before, and here she was drinking coffee with her in a tiny, packed coffee shop like old friends.
"So-"
"How's-"
Their sentences and awkwardness were interrupted by Granny walking over and placing their coffee on the table, the pair feeling as if they could breathe again.
"Hot chocolate, really?" Regina asked, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
Emma grinned, picking her hot chocolate up, sipping it slowly, careful to not get the marshmallows all at once, "The best hot chocolate in Boston. Believe me, I've tried a lot of them."
"What's so good about it?" Regina asked, eying it inquisitively. It didn't look any different than what she'd seen elsewhere.
Emma shuffled in her seat, "I can't tell you, Granny's secret. Very few know and she'd kill me if she found out I told anyone…"
"Maintain an air of mystery then," Regina murmured, smirking.
Emma grinned, eyes sparking at the challenge, "Says the person who has literally not said a single thing about herself apart from her name, like bloody James Bond. Mills, Regina Mills"
Regina wasn't used to Emma's kind of friendly mocking. Generally, people were either terrified of her or were trying to use her for something, sothis thing with Emma felt completely odd and surreal.
"You already know about me. CEO of Mills Incorporated, which I inherited from my mother, in the top 5 of the Forbes List, that's about it." The business woman disclosed.
Glancing at her watch, the brunette saw she still had 15 minutes left of the washing machine cycle. What else were they going to talk about?
"Sure, that's CEO Regina Mills. What about the person Regina Mills? There must be more to you than your business." Emma countered.
Regina suddenly felt more uncomfortable. It scared her, how willing she was to just talk to this person, this stranger. It wasn't like Regina knew many people normal people, people who just lived their lives, who weren't in a ruthless business career that took over most of their lives. But she knew opening up to people was a weakness, making connections was a weakness, outside of a business sense. It was the one thing her Mother had taught her, and it had served her well so far.
"Why should I tell you? It's not like we're friends," Regina demanded.
Emma realised then that this was new to Regina as much as it was new to her. She was getting defensive because she was nervous and uncomfortable, which didn't surprise Emma. They were from two completely different worlds, had completely different jobs, different lives. Not that people didn't stick solely to their clique, but Emma was a poor orphan kid who was still trying to get through each day with enough money, and Regina was continually surrounded by people who wanted to beat her. A chance bumping into each other and spilt coffee had lead each other here, it wouldn't have happened for any other reason.
"C'mon Regina. I know I'm not like you, and you're not like me, but we have another-" the blonde checked her watch, "-12 minutes, and I'd rather not just sit here in silence for that time…"
"I don't understand why we need to make small talk, Miss Swan. I am merely waiting for my shirt, then I will get on with my day, and you will get on with yours."
"Fine. If you don't want to make small talk, I will," Emma declared
"Miss Swan-" Regina started.
"I'm an orphan, and I left the foster system the first opportunity I got. Not that they really cared, I expect they were glad to get rid of me, I'd been in that many homes. I kinda fell into bails bonds, it just happened and it's been keeping me afloat ever since. I always wanted to do something more, so I signed up for those business classes I mentioned, and they helped me work towards some qualifications-"
"Miss Swan!"
"-But yeah, I mean, it's not that bad. Sure, there are bastards sometimes and I don't get paid a lot. Although I'm definitely gonna get out of it one day. I actually signed up for the police academy recently, but haven't heard anything back, but ya know, it may happen-"
"Miss Swan, we've got 5 minutes."
Regina abruptly stood up, grabbing her coat and bag. She was certainly not going to listen to this stranger yammer on about her life. She had a meeting to get to, and she wouldn't be left dawdling.
Emma scrambled to her feet, downing the remainder of her hot chocolate, and grabbed the umbrella. Glancing out the window, she noticed the absence of any rain, "Looks like we won't be needing this again."
Once again standing in Emma's apartment, the brunette grabbed her now-washed shirt from the grasp of the bails bondwoman. She didn't need to spend any more time here.
"Thank you, Miss Swan, for your hospitality and helpfulness. It's nice to know that chivalry isn't dead in this world."
"No problem, Regina," Emma muttered, "and you can call me Emma."
"Goodbye, Miss Swan," Regina reiterated, turning and walking out of Emma's apartment.
"Regina, wait" Emma cried out, walking towards the door that had just closed.
The brunette sighed, turning slowly towards the blonde, piece of paper held out towards her.
"What's that?" Regina questioned, eying the ripped paper in the blonde's fingertips.
"My number. I dunno, in case you want to get away from the world of people with sticks shoved up their arses." Emma mumbled, hand awkardly hovering out in front of her.
"Again, Thank you, and goodbye, Miss Swan," Regina muttered, hastily grabbing the paper and turning. She had 9 minutes to get to her next meeting, and she certainly wasn't going to miss it.
Looking back on it, Emma never would have expected for Regina Mills to make such a big impact in her life, nor did she expect Regina Mills would ever call her. That fleeting meeting was over before it even started, and little did she know it would be the start of something so much more.