"You never told me you were interested in gardening." Regina stared at Emma over the rim of her coffee mug, spoon in one hand and warm buttered croissant in the other. With her chin resting on her arm, she looked almost intrigued by the morning's revelation. Emma Swan, a gardener? It explained where some of her books had disappeared to. "If you'd said something six months ago, we could've buried Robin under that Granny Smith tree."
"That's not funny."
She shrugged and sat up to take a sip of her coffee. Her numerous plans regarding Robin's demise had grown increasingly viable since his arrival in Storybrooke, but none ever came to fruition. "No one would know."
"The Sheriff would."
"The Sheriff fucks—"
"Hey, kid." Emma smiled at Henry as he stumbled into the kitchen whilst Regina's thick purple nightgown trailed along the floor behind him. "You want some Cap'n Crunch?"
He shook his head, mumbled a 'Hi, Mom', grabbed a ripe banana from the fruit bowl, and retreated to his room upstairs.
"As I was saying, the Sheriff attends to the Mayor's physical needs on a regular basis and isn't really in a position to be attempting to find a middle ground, given what happened last time she said no."
Emma gestured for Regina to continue. 'Boys will be boys' was an excuse the Mayor would tolerate no longer it seemed, and Storybrooke would probably be improved after a cleanup. "So what do you propose then?"
"We hire a huntsman."
