A/N: Happy New Year everyone. Just a little thing I wrote- can be read as either SQ friendship or pre-romantic. Set sometime after baby Neal was born.
Nothing familiar is mine.
Let It Snow
Emma could barely see the asphalt in front of her as her precious car trudged through the snow on her way back to the loft. Despite going less than ten miles an hour, the ol' girl managed to hang in there, and they were slowly but surely, making progress toward home. If it weren't for that damn ice patch, she might have gotten there too.
Three streets before her turn, Emma tensed. Her tires lifted off of the ground and the bug catapulted into the air as she skidded over the ice. Fuck.
The sheriff gripped the wheel, her mind working overtime trying to remember everything Neal had taught her. Her stomach rolled as the landscape whizzed past her. She spun 'round three full times before the momentum of the car sent her slumping against the driver side door. Her head collided briefly with the glass windowpane, but she gritted her teeth, determined to shake off the stabbing pain reverberating through her skull until she got things back under control.
She yanked the steering wheel to the right in hopes of finally steadying herself. Instead, a disturbing pop ricocheted through the night. All the air fled her front tire, only to be picked up by the raging wind as the ancient VW was sent into a tailspin in the opposite direction when it rammed against the guardrail that kept her from tumbling to the small river below. Emma knew the water was probably shallow enough to wade through should the precautions fail, but at the moment, ice covered its surface and the temperature had to be well below what any human body could withstand. She spun the wheel to the left and, to her relief, jolted to a stop smack in the middle of a three foot high snow bank, just on the opposite side of the bridge.
In an instant, everything was still. Emma clutched the steering wheel for a moment longer, afraid to move from her hunched position over the controls should the fierce wind howling through the trees once again knock her into motion. Minutes passed, and the only sound echoing through her car was the sputtered whoosh of hot air that pushed free from the dying heater. Her heart pounded in her ears, and her hands refused to stop shaking, but finally, Emma caught her breath and collapsed back against the worn seats.
So much for being home on Christmas Eve.
She kicked open the dented door and slid outside to inspect the damage. The freshly fallen snow crunched under her boots, turning her toes to icicles as it soaked through the tattered brown leather and thermal wool socks Snow had given her as an early Christmas present.
Even in her warmest coat, the sheriff shivered. The frigid weather blanketed her hair and shoulders with a fresh sheet of flurries. She turned and shoved the door closed, only realizing her mistake a second too late. The top of the mini snow mountain tumbled down on the front of the car, burying it up to the hood.
"Damn it!" Emma quickly climbed back in with the hope of possibly backing out of the hole, but as she turned the key and gunned it in rear wheel drive, her tires refused to budge. One of them only emitted a pitiful swooshing sound in response while the others sent up a whole new cloud of flakes as they dug themselves even deeper into the ground. Great.
The blonde cut the engine and bit back yet another colorful string of curses. She'd completely forgotten about the flat tire.
Well, there goes any hope of getting out of here tonight. With a resigned sigh, the savior slumped back against her chair, weighing her options. She had no car, a dying heater, and was stranded in a snow pile with no idea where she ended up thanks to her unexpected trip off the rails.
Now what?
She couldn't sleep in the bug tonight without risking hypothermia. Even those brief few minutes in the blizzard to inspect her car had left her soaking wet. She plugged the key back into the ignition and cranked up the heat, but it wasn't helping much. She didn't have the strength to poof herself home, and the mechanic wouldn't be able to get anywhere near here- wherever here was- until the snow let up. So, what was she supposed to do?
Regina, she thought suddenly, face palming herself. Of course. If she could just find her phone… She fished in all of her pockets, the feeling in her fingers still not fully returned. Finally though, they collided with something smooth and metallic.
Yes! Emma gripped her cell and held it up in triumph. Now she only hoped the brunette would be willing to a. Poof to her, and b. Poof her home. Still, she had a plan, and that was better than nothing.
She managed to wrap her fingers around the device and nestle it in her gloved hand, but when she located the power button and pressed down, nothing happened. The screen stayed black, mocking her with its unwillingness to do her bidding. She ground her teeth and gripped it a little tighter, having half a mind to chuck the defiant bastard out the window then and there.
Stay calm, Swan, she chastised herself. Maybe the glove just messed with your coordination.
She put part of her left glove between her teeth and bit down, pulling it off with ease, Again, she hit the power button, but still only a blank screen stared back at her.
"Argh! Come on you piece of… Turn on, damnit!" On the third try, Emma pushed with all her might, and the finicky device finally gave in. "Thank God!" She swiped her finger across the screen to unlock it, but upon looking down to input her password, the thin outline of an empty battery winked conspiratorially at her, refusing to let her in. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" the sheriff growled. She flung the cell into the passenger seat and tore apart the car in search of a charger, but came up with nothing. Henry must have borrowed it and stuck it in David's truck when they switched pick-up duties from school last week. "Damnit, kid! Why didn't you tell me you were taking it?"
And now, she was right back where she started. With no other option, Emma shuffled out of the car- careful not to slam the door this time- and started down the street. At least she was still in Storybrooke. If she could just figure out where in Storybrooke, maybe she could find a place to crash for the night. It wouldn't be much of Christmas Eve, but it beat shivering to death in the back seat of her bug.
Emma didn't know how long she walked before she finally spotted a light somewhere off to her left. She knew it probably wasn't very far, but in weather like this, distance was pretty much irrelevant. Even through her gloves, her fingers tingled with frostbite. She could barely feel her lips and her steps were slowly becoming painful, which she knew, had to be bad. Stumbling blindly, she practically ran for the light- only to end up on the front porch of Regina's towering mayoral mansion.
Oh, the irony. Emma's lips curled upward in a tiny smirk. What are the odds that she would stumble into the very house of the person she'd meant to call only a few minutes prior? Not that she was complaining. It was colder than the Alaskan tundra out here and Emma knew for a fact that the mayor's house was the most well heated in town. If she agreed to let Emma in.
The savior stepped up onto the porch and rang the bell three times in succession, stamping her feet and rubbing her hands together to keep warm. After three minutes, no one came, and in a last ditch effort, Emma pressed the button one last time. She waited another 60 seconds before she could stand the cold no longer. She turned and gingerly began descending the first of three stone steps that lead to Regina's porch. They were veiled in a thin layer of ice that Emma counted herself lucky not to have tripped over previously. She'd had enough bad luck for one night; she didn't want to add a sprained ankle to the growing list.
As she moved to step down the second stair, the front door of the mansion finally swung open.
"Leroy, it is 12:13 AM on Christmas Eve; if you're waking me up at this ungodly hour with another complaint about Granny and her inability to serve you bacon 24 hours a day 365 days a year, so help me, I will magic you to that stove and leave you there to ro- Emma? Is that you?"
Emma swallowed a laugh and turned to face the brunette, giving her a sheepish, yet amused smile.
As usual, the mayor looked perfect. Even in a disheveled pair of silk charcoal pants and matching nightshirt, the regal air surrounding her refused to dissipate. Maybe it was from a century of playing the Evil Queen, or some sort of perk she'd added at the last second to the original curse that created this town in the first place. Either way Emma was dying to know how, no matter what Regina Mills did, she never appeared anything less than absolutely flawless. As she stood there, hands on her hips, sable eyes flashing with irritation, and the little scar above her lip twitching while she glared down at Emma for disturbing her beauty sleep at such an unseemly hour of the morning, the blonde doubted there was a time when she'd ever seen the former queen look knew me as beautiful as she did right then.
"Yeah," she replied with a sharp laugh. Sorry I woke you, but least I'm not a temperamental dwarf threatening to break your windows over crispy strips of pork."
"Count yourself lucky I recognized that leather monstrosity you call a jacket; otherwise, you'd be a swine."
"Duly noted," Emma chuckled and shook her head, not sure why this would surprise her. She raised a bemused brow and stuffed her gloved hands into her pockets. "Has he really done that before? Harassed you at 12 AM on a holiday about bacon?"
"More times than I care to count actually," Regina retorted. "I've seriously contemplated zapping him straight back to the Enchanted Forest where he belongs. If it weren't for your mother's constant protests…" She folded her arms over her chest and trailed off, pursing her lips.
Emma smirked. "Well, if you let me inside for a few minutes, I'd be more than happy to file a restraining order against him for you in the morning."
The brunette blinked, only then registering the slight blue tinge to the savior's lips and the way her teeth chattered as she spoke. The puffy black coat covering her signature red jacket was soaking wet, and her sodden boots were caked with snow. "Oh. Of… Of course, come in." she answered, sidestepping and allowing Emma to trail behind her into the parlor as she shut the door with a click.
"My gods, you're freezing." She scowled as she helped Emma out of her coat and draped it over a chair.
"Am I?" the blonde quipped. "I hadn't noticed."
Regina tsked and rolled her eyes, which only caused the blonde's cheeky grin to widen. "What were you doing stranded in my driveway? Did that metal deathtrap you so loosely refer to as a car finally meet it's maker?"
Emma groaned "You could say that," she answered as she followed Regina into the kitchen and sunk down on an island barstool. "I had to stay late at the station today to monitor all the power outages that have been happening thanks to this blizzard. On the way home, I slipped on ice and landed in a snow pile. I'm sure you can figure out the rest."
The mayor scoffed, turning on her heel and talking over her shoulder as she riffled through the pantry. "One of these days, Emma, you're going to have to replace that eyesore. Especially if it's becoming a safety hazard."
"I think I can take care of myself, Regina, but I appreciate your concern."
"Who said I was concerned for you? I'm merely worried about Henry. I know how much he likes riding around in that old thing."
Emma's lips curled upward slightly as she tried to hide her smile. "Whatever you say, Your Majesty." She watched as Regina took two coffee mugs from the cabinet, filling them with a couple teaspoons of milk, cocoa powder and just a pinch of sugar and cinnamon. She stirred them until they were smooth before putting a small saucepan on the stove, pouring in another cup of milk, and heating it until it steamed.
"What are you making, anyway?"
Regina snickered and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at Emma. "I know it's early dear, but I know for a fact you are not as daft as those Charming parents of yours. What does it look like I'm making?" She motioned to the brimming mugs as she carefully poured the boiling milk inside. "Hot chocolate of course."
Emma scowled. "Well yes, I can see that. But, why? And how do you know how to make it on the stove?"
Regina didn't bother to answer right away. She pulled out some cinnamon shavings and whipped cream from the fridge. "Contrary to your belief, Emma, not everything tasteful needs to come from a box. Just because you choose to eat that poisonous junk does not mean I raised our son to do the same. Besides," she turned off the stove before handing one heaping cup to Emma and then settling in with one of her own. "once you taste this, you'll never look at those infernal packets the same way again."
Emma licked her lips as she eyed the steaming mug, wrapping her hands around it and sighing in contentment as the warmth radiated over her frozen palms. "Thanks. This looks amazing." She cautiously brought the cup to her mouth and smiled when the frothy cream coated her upper lip as she went in for her first taste. As the rich mixture of cocoa and vanilla tickled her taste buds, Emma could do nothing else but sigh in pleasure. "Mmm," she moaned. You're right, this is better than the boxed stuff."
"Told you so," the brunette replied taking a sip of her own. "And as to why I made it," she gestured to the blonde's still sopping boots, "how else would I have gotten you warm enough to stop from dripping on my freshly mopped floor?"
Emma looked behind her to see that she had indeed left a trail of incriminating snowy footprints all along the tile. She cringed as she took another drink, ashamed to have mucked up the previously immaculate home. "Sorry," she muttered. "I'll um, clean those up when I'm done."
Regina shook her head, trying in vain not to smile. The savior looked cute when she was embarrassed. Not that she would ever admit it out loud. "No matter, dear." A wave of her hand and the linoleum sparkled once again. "Though I must insist you get out of those sopping rags you're wearing. I assume you planned on staying here tonight, seeing as your car isn't in any condition to be driven, yes?"
The sheriff looked up, startled by Regina's invitation. Truthfully, she had just been planning to poof home once she was finished with her hot chocolate. But, if she was offering… "Oh, no. I'll just poof home when I'm done here. I wouldn't want to impose on your and Henry's Christmas."
"Nonsense," the mayor countered. "Henry told me Neal came down with a pretty nasty cold today, so I doubt you'd get much sleep if you went back home. I'll just take the both of you back when we go over for... Christmas dinner." At first, Regina had been adamantly against attending any sort of holiday festivity with the Charmings involved. Even though she and Snow were on much better terms these days, David continued not to trust her, which made family meals almost intolerably awkward. It was only due to Henry's constant prodding that she'd finally relented and agreed to go, "just for an hour." Although now, she supposed, she didn't have a choice.
Emma studied Regina for a moment, not entirely sure she was sincere, but soon, the cold still seeping through her veins won over. She truly had no desire to venture outside again tonight, and if she knew her parents, Regina was probably right in saying they'd be up all night taking care of the squirt, meaning she would as well if she went home now. Much as she loved her baby brother, the blonde was in desperate need of some sleep. "Alright," she conceded. "If you're sure."
"I am. Go put your boots by the door and I'll find you something dryer to wear."
"You're going to let me wear your nice pajamas? Wow, I didn't think you trusted me that much."
Regina snorted and fought the urge to roll her eyes once more. "Unless you prefer Henry's Avengers pants, which I'm not sure would even fit you at this point, then yes, I am."
Emma laughed. "Relax, Your Highness, I was kidding."
Regina said nothing, but Emma thought she saw the smallest hint of a smile dance on the edge of her lips as she marched down the hall.
I'm open for prompts if you guys want me to continue. You can prompt me romantically or friendship-wise, I'll write either.