AN: Brief trigger warning for a sleazy guy trying to take advantage of a drunk Regina.
Bright light hits Regina square in the face, slicing into her eyes and making her already pounding headache feel like a construction crew is jackhammering behind her skull. She groans, and tries to angle her head away, but she can't find a position where she isn't being blinded. She turns her whole body, attempting to roll to the other side of the bed and bury her face in the pillows, but she's stopped by something blocking her path. She groans again, louder this time. She starts to open her eyes to see why it feels like there's a scratchy cushion in her face and along the length of her body. She doesn't get them open more than a crack before she's fiercely squeezing them shut again, trying to block out the searing light and screaming headache with them.
Did I fall asleep on the couch? At least that explains why my neck is killing me. And my back. And god, my head. When did our couch get so damn uncomfortable? How drunk did I get last night?
Her answer comes when she shifts a little on the sofa, and the movement makes her stomach roil. Ugh. That drunk.
"Hey, you're awake."
Regina's eyes fly wide open, headache and hangover forgotten. She jumps into a seated position and scrambles further back into the couch cushions. There's a tall, blonde stranger standing in the middle of the common room to her dorm, an amused expression lighting up the girl's face. She appears to be about the same age as Regina, twenty or twenty-one, and she's holding a bottle of water in one hand and another small, white bottle in the other.
"Who the hell are you? And how the hell did you get in my dorm?!" Regina screeches. She immediately regrets it; each word stabs into her head like a knife. She winces, and brings the tips of her fingers to her temple, but doesn't remove her glare from the mysterious, blonde intruder. She feels her surprise and fear begin to bubble into hostility when the girl says nothing and simply quirks an eyebrow in response, making Regina want to smack the aggravating smirk off her face.
As she's staring down this interloper, a creeping sense of unfamiliarity begins invading her mind. She gets the feeling this girl is waiting for something from her, so she starts to look around the room quickly.
When did we get that plant? Or that chair? And this couch is a different color than it was last night…
"Where the hell am I?!" If possible, her shriek is even louder this time.
"This would be my apartment." The blonde chuckles softly. Regina's shoulders slump slightly in confusion, but when the girl takes a step closer to her she coils back up into a ball of wary tension. Regina's obvious alarm and threatened posture goes unacknowledged by the stranger, who drops her ass gracelessly onto the coffee table in front of the couch. She sets the items in her hands down next to her before looking to Regina's mocha colored eyes.
The blonde's are a bright forest green, and Regina finds herself searching them deeply; trying to assess just how panicked she needs to be.
Am I even anywhere near campus? Where's my phone? Will I be able to call the police? Can I fight this girl off if I need to?
While she's silently planning escape routes, Regina sees the other girl's mouth moving. It takes her a moment for her brain to catch up to her and realize that the blonde sitting across from her is talking. Her eyes open even wider, and she stares blankly, unsure if she should ask the girl to repeat herself or just make a break for it. She's drawn out of her thoughts again by the stranger's light, tinkling laughter.
"I said my name's Emma Swan. I know you're probably freaking the fuck out right now, I would be too. But I promise I'm not here to hurt you." Emma's voice is soft and calm, and she speaks with a gentle smile.
"Forgive me if I don't take your word for it." Regina bites out, the adrenaline and anxious fear making her tone twice as acerbic as usual.
Emma just laughs again, and Regina is becoming irate. She furiously pushes her dark brown hair back out of her face, cringing when her fingers catch at a tangle. "Will you stop cackling and explain to me whatis going on? Why am I here? And how did I even get here?" She burrows further into the corner of the couch and digs her fingernails into the cushions on the back and the armrest. When she catches sight of what she's wearing she jumps again. She's in loose, baggy sweats and a ratty tee shirt with an unidentifiable stain just below the collar. These are clothes she doesn't own and certainly did not wear out to the party last night. "And what the fuck am I wearing?! Did you, I mean, did we- " She can't seem to get the sentence out so Emma takes pity and helps her out.
"Did we sleep together? No." Her eyes grow serious and she speaks in a firm, reassuring voice, "No one touched you. I promise." A heavy silence fills the room, but something in this unfamiliar girl's gaze reaches out to her. Regina isn't sure why, but she believes Emma. Her jaw is clenched tight but she nods.
"Okay." She clears her throat pointedly. "That doesn't answer any of my other questions though."
"Ah, well, as far as your clothes go," she gestures up and down casually to Regina's outfit, "I had no intention of touching your dress; actually I wasn't even the one who removed it. You did that. You got sick and puked all over your dress. I led you into the bathroom to try to wipe it off, but I forgot to grab a towel. So I sat you on the toilet and went to the hall closet. In the two minutes I was gone, you had managed to climb into the shower, fully clothed, mind you. It seemed to sober you up a little bit, but then you just started crying. So I pulled you out of the shower, and next thing I know you're ripping off your dress. I swear, I didn't look. I just helped you into the first clean, dry clothes I could find."
Regina's face feels like it's on fire with embarrassment by the time Emma finishes her story, she opens her mouth to say something but all that comes out is a breathless squeak. She wants to deny it, but she does have vague memories of standing in a bath tub and getting sick last night. She's starting to recall a few things, but most of it is blurry and she can't make much sense of it. Why did I let Robin convince me to go to that party?
"Oh god. I threw up in your plant."
"Yeah, I'm thinking I'll be getting a new one soon. I'm not sure what that does to the soil, but the smell certainly packs a wallop." Emma's grin is good natured when she responds.
"Seriously though, how did I end up in your apartment?" Regina is starting to feel the full effects of her hangover, and she's running out of patience. A large part of her is screaming at her to just go, get out of this girl's apartment and pretend this night never happened. But she still has no idea where any of her things are; her phone, her keys, her wallet, or even her shoes. And she also desperately wants to know what happened last night.
"That's a little bit of a story too. Do you want some ibuprofen first?" The blonde extends both the bottles she had been holding before to Regina, but the brunette just eyes them suspiciously.
"I didn't do anything to them, honest. They're both brand new and unopened if you don't believe me." She shakes both bottles slightly and holds them out a tad closer to the woman on the couch. Regina takes them cautiously. She thoroughly inspects both of them for tampering. She takes her time and Emma just continues to smile patiently. Finally Regina decides they're safe, and gratefully gulps down two pills and a long swig of water. It washes some of the acidic taste leftover from the vomit out of her mouth. She sets both down and looks at Emma expectantly.
The blonde catches the hint and begins explaining what happened. "Alright, well I was out with my buddy, August, last night…"
Emma walks through the open door of the frat house. The change in atmosphere is immediate when she steps from the cool night air into the stuffy rooms, the body heat of hundreds of people packed into one house rolling off in waves. She's a bit surprised to see there isn't as big of a crowd as their typically is on a Friday night, but she shrugs it off. This way she can easily spot her friend across the room. She catches his attention with a short wave, then quickly crosses the floor over to him. She greets August with a hearty clap to the shoulder and plops down into the seat opposite of him. On her way over to the couches they're sitting on, she'd passed by a cooler and grabbed a beer for herself.
"So, how you been? It's been a little while"
They've only been chatting long enough for Emma to make it through half of her first beer before something up at the bar catches her eye. Or rather, someone.
She's tall, olive skinned, and breathtakingly gorgeous as she smoothly makes her way through the throng of people. Her chocolate colored hair falls in a gentle wave that stops just above her shoulders, the tips just barely brushing against the black dress that clings to her curves and drapes over her form enticingly. Emma can't stop staring at her eyes; they're coffee brown and accentuated by the dramatic yet tasteful smoky eye shadow; or the way her plump red lips curve up in a polite smile when she asks the guy manning the keg for a beer.
Emma isn't sure how long she's been gawking at this beautiful creature, but she's drawn from her stupor by August waving his hand a foot in front of her face and shouting out, "Hey, Em! Earth to Emma!"
Emma splutters a bit on the sip of beer in her mouth, then rolls her eyes at her own inelegance, before glaring a bit at August. "What's your problem?"
"What's my problem?" He laughs, and the gleam in his eyes lets Emma know that he's not going to let this go any time soon. "You're the one who spent the last five minutes ogling that hot girl who just walked in. Seriously, you were gone."
"It was not five minutes."
"It was getting pretty close. I mean, she's going to feel your eyes on her if you just leer like that." He ducks quickly when Emma whips a pretzel at his head.
"I definitely do not leer. Staring, sure. Ogling, okay I'll give you that one. But leering? Come on, give me a little credit." She pauses briefly before asking, "Do you know who that is?"
"I don't know her name, but I've seen her in a couple of my classes." Emma nods absently, but doesn't say anything. The grin on August's face stretches wider. "Go talk to her."
"What? Don't be ridiculous." Emma's cheeks are tinging pink a little and she refuses to meet her friend's eyes. She takes another sip of her beer, and refocuses her stare to a questionable spot on the dingy carpet.
"What's ridiculous? You're obviously attracted to her. Who knows, maybe she'll be attracted to you too." He wiggles his eyebrows with an intentionally overdone flair. Emma just rolls her eyes harder, but at August's antics this time. She sips at her beer pensively then grows serious.
"You really think I should go talk to her?" She sounds intrigued and a little hopeful, and August drops the playful teasing.
"Yeah, Em. I really think you should. You're a catch, and she'd be a fool not to want to get to know you better. And what's the worst that could happen? You go up and say hi, and even if she's uninterested you get to spend a few moments talking to a pretty girl."
Emma is quiet for a minute, then she rolls her shoulders and takes a deep breath. "Okay. Okay, I'm going to do it. I'm going to talk to her."
She gets up and tries not to let her confidence escape. Three steps in, however, she focuses on the girl again. And what she sees has all of that confidence deflating like a punctured balloon.
A broad shouldered, blonde guy wearing the letters of the frat house on his jacket has walked up to the beautiful brunette. He's got a cocky grin on his face, but he clearly knows the other girl. Emma sighs when he places a hand on the small of the brunette's back and leans in for a peck on the lips. She figures it's just as well; it's not like she stood a chance anyways.
So she turns back to the couch and reclaims her seat, glad that no one had claimed it in the short period of time she had vacated it. August's brow furrows in confusion.
"That was fast. Did you chicken out?"
Emma doesn't say anything, she just gestures to the couple with a disappointed hum. August swivels his head around to get a look over his shoulder at what his friend is indicating, and when he sees the girl from before talking and looking cozy with some guy, he lets out an understanding, "Ah."
He turns back to Emma with a sympathetic smile and says, "Tough break. What do you say to another round then, hm?"
"Bring it on."
They spend the next hour continuing to chat. Emma listens to what August is saying as best she can while trying, and failing miserably, not to look at the mysterious brunette who has moved over to some chairs near the pool table with her apparent boyfriend. Every few minutes or so, she glances back up. She knows she's being ridiculous, she's never even met the woman, and the brunette is obviously involved with the guy who's currently resting his palm on her thigh and leaning into her ear. But Emma still wishes she had had the opportunity to say hello. She feels a bit creepy, looking over to them so often. But she knows she'll never see this woman again, and she can't stop herself from being captivated by her beauty.
August humors her, and for once doesn't tease her too much. Emma isn't exactly subtle with her repeated gazes over to the couple, but he decides not to draw attention to it. But when he sees his friend stiffen and her eyes sharpen as she looks forward, he has to know what's going on. So he turns around and takes a look himself.
Apparently the happy couple isn't as perfect as they appeared. They both look livid, and even though they're speaking in muted whispers to avoid drawing attention, it's clear they're basically screaming at each other. She gestures wildly, then points at him accusingly, jabbing her index finger towards his chest. Even though August realizes they're having a serious argument, he can't help chuckling a little at the guy's distraught face; it looks like a cross between incredulous and constipated.
Then suddenly the blonde guy is standing, he throws his hands up in an exasperated gesture before harshly ripping his jacket off the back of the chair and storming off. The woman looks stunned for a moment at his abrupt departure, but then she's fuming. She runs both hands through her hair and begins furiously digging through her purse.
At that point, August feels as though he's probably been watching for longer than he should have, so he turns back towards Emma. There's a small amount of anger smoldering in his companion's eyes as well.
"You alright there, Em?"
Emma clears her throat and shakes her head slightly. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. That guy seems like a real jerk though."
August laughs lightly. "You have no idea what just happened over there. Maybe she's the one who was being a jerk. Man, Em. You haven't even spoken a word to this complete stranger and already you're smitten?"
"I'm not smitten. She just looks like she's having a rough night." Emma hastily denies.
"I'm sure she is. But you're also smitten." This time it's a whole handful of pretzels he has to dodge. He ducks down and laughs harder when he hears the spray of snacks hitting the wall behind him. When he pops back up he gets an idea on how to cheer up his friend.
"Hey, did you see that guy's face?" There's a mischievous spark in his eyes, and Emma knows that smile anywhere.
"Why?" She asks warily.
"Was it just me, or did it look like he could benefit from some laxatives?"
Emma spits out her beer and looks at August with a shocked expression for a second before bursting out laughing. When she gets going August joins her, and soon they're both outright cackling.
Emma wipes at the tears in the corners of her eyes, and after a minute or two she can finally get out "I knew I couldn't be only one thinking that!" And they both laugh some more. Emma sighs again a little once their fit of giggles subsides. She's halfway through her second beer and she knows there's no point in getting worked up over a random stranger at a party, not to mention that she has no right to in the first place. So she takes another pull of beer and decides to just let it go.
After another hour and another beer, two more for August, they decide to call it a night. Emma has a little bit of a buzz going, but she's not anywhere near drunk and that's how she prefers to keep it. She's never really enjoyed the sensation of getting wasted, especially not in public or big frat parties like this, so she keeps it on the right side of tipsy. She gives August a quick hug goodbye before he heads outside to walk back to his dorm. Emma however, lives in one of the university owned apartment buildings like many of the other seniors. They're on the outskirts of campus, on the opposite end from the Greek houses. It's not within walking distance especially this late at night, so she pulls out her cell to call a cab.
She's got about ten minutes before the taxi arrives, but she figures she'll wait outside in the fresh air. She's pulling one arm through the sleeve of her jacket when she decides one last glance to the beautiful stranger couldn't hurt. The sight that greets her catches her by surprise. The brunette is sloppy drunk, leaning over the kitchen counter and shouting something raucously to the keg guy. Emma figures she's asking for another drink, but judging by the way the guy behind the counter is firmly shaking his head, she's been cut off. She slaps her hands down loudly on the counter, and Emma isn't even sure how but the motion almost sends the drunk girl sprawling to the floor. Damn, how much did she drink for a frat boy to think she's had enough?
Emma feels sympathetic, she's been there before. It's why she doesn't like getting drunk anymore, it never ends well. Something inside her wonders if she should go offer the girl a hand, but she quickly dismisses the idea. It's none of her business, and she doesn't even know her. As she's straightening out the collar of her red leather jacket, she notices someone new approaching this girl.
She had apparently meandered off to a corner and sat down, and now he's almost stalking over to her. He's got a predatory look in his eyes, and he's rapidly closing in on the impaired woman. Emma watches for a moment, he gives a charming smile and plays the nice guy, but the only reason why he might be even slightly convincing to this girl is due to the fact that she likely consumed half her weight in alcohol tonight. Anyone half sober could see right through him.
Emma can feel her hackles starting to rise when the man is putting his arm around the obviously inebriated girl. She starts to stand, but really it's clear this guy is half pulling her to her feet and tighter into his hold around her waist.
He takes her purse in one hand and begins leading her over to a door that clearly doesn't open into another part of the party, but leads to a closed off part of the house. When they turn, Emma catches a glimpse of the girl's face. She looks lost, and completely befuddled. She clearly has no idea what's happening, and she just stumbles along with the force pulling at her. Emma knows she's a total stranger to this girl as well, but she can't just let this happen. So before she knows it, she's crossing the party in quick, meaningful strides. She plants herself between the door and the pair. The guy looks surprised for a second, and then he just looks pissed. The drunk brunette lolls her head slightly and trips over her own feet when they stop short.
She turns and looks to the guy at her side, and reels her head back in shock as if it was the first time she'd noticed him.
"Wha?" she slurs. There's more that follows, but Emma can't make it out. She focuses on the guy and glowers at him ferociously.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm putting my girlfriend to bed, and I'd appreciate it if you'd move and let us be on our way." His voice is smooth as silk and it makes Emma's skin crawl.
"Your girlfriend, huh? Then what's her name?" Emma sees a flash of rage in his eyes before he tempers it and answers coolly.
"It's Janet." It's also clear he just pulled that out of his butt, so Emma scoffs.
"Yeah, nice try, but I know she's not your girlfriend. She's a good friend of mine. That's not her name, and I've never heard of you before." She stares him down, hoping he won't call her bluff and hoping this girl won't interject with the truth.
She reaches her arm out to the drunken stranger and says, "Come on, Louise, let's get you home huh?"
'Louise' looks at Emma as if she's trying to recall if that's really her name. She half stumbles, half falls into Emma, who has to take a step back to avoid the both of them crashing to the floor. She immediately rights them as best she can, then snatches the other girl's purse from this guy's hands. She sends one more warning glare at the seething frat boy watching them both make their way quickly out of the house.
They step outside and the cold air hits them both in the face. It's bracing and it serves to clear the intoxicated 'Louise's' mind a tad. She glances around and realizes her location has changed. She starts to mumble out a question, but Emma keeps them moving towards the sidewalk. The cab she had called earlier is pulling up to the curb, and she couldn't be more grateful. She doesn't want to stick around long enough to find out what happens if the creep from inside decides to follow them out here.
She hurriedly moves them to the cab, practically hauling the other who is too drunk to be coordinated enough for a swift escape with her. When she reaches the door, Emma bundles the girl gently into the cab and shuts her door quickly. She asks the woman behind the wheel to just take off, and says she'll give her the address in a moment. She turns to the drunk mess at her side, and shakes her shoulder a little.
"Hey, can you tell the driver where your address is?"
The girl looks at her blankly for a moment, then she just bursts out laughing. Emma is thoroughly confused, so she tries again.
"Yes, I know the shitfaced drunk crowd has always appreciated my humor, but can you please tell me where you live so this cabbie can get you home? Do you live on campus, or nearby?"
Again the brunette just looks bemused, as if she's sifting through sand in her brain to try to locate the answer. Then her face lights up and she turns to the cab driver. She tries to lean over the back seat but is stopped by the clear plastic barrier between the front and back sections of the car.
"Ow."
Emma rolls her eyes, but tries to redirect the girl's focus. The olive skinned brunette looks at Emma with surprise, as if she'd forgotten she was there in the first place. Then she slurs something unintelligible and waits expectantly.
"Wait, what? Please can you just give her your address?"
Again, when the girl answers Emma can barely understand her. The best she can estimate is "I don't remember," followed by "Thank you, you're welcome!"
Emma slaps a palm to her face and releases some of her frustration in yet another sigh. She determines that she's not going to get anything out of this girl that's helpful at this point, and they can't sit in this cab forever without giving the driver an address.
"Can I look in your purse? I might be able to find your address in there."
The dark haired girl watches Emma's mouth moving, and it's clear she's concentrating very hard on trying to understand what the blonde is saying, but she comes up empty. So she just starts laughing again. Emma rolls her eyes, and grabs the purse off the floor of the cab. She digs through it, hoping to find an ID with an address on it. There isn't much inside it. A phone, keys, a compact mirror, and some eyeliner. But there's no wallet and no ID in the bag. Great. She probably didn't want her ID to get stolen. Now what.
"Hey, are you going to give me a place to go or are we just going to drive around all night? I can do that too, but it's going to cost you." The cab driver's nasally voice interrupts Emma's thoughts.
"Just give me moment, okay?"
"Whatever, it's no skin off my back."
Emma ignores her and reaches for the phone inside the purse. Maybe she can find someone to call on the hammered girl's behalf. She clicks the hold button, but groans in exasperation when there's a passcode locking the phone. She figures it's probably hopeless if the brunette can't even remember her own address, but she asks if she can give her the passcode anyway. She gets no answer so she looks up and sees the other girl has passed out. Emma's shoulders slump, and she takes a moment to stare up at the roof of the car and silently ask Why?
She takes a fortifying breath, and shakes the girl's shoulder. Nothing. She shakes harder, and still nothing.
"Oh this is just perfect." She mutters to herself. Fuck, what the hell am I supposed to do? I can't afford to drive around until she sobers up. And we can't even sit in a café and get her a cup of coffee to sober her up if she's passed the fuck out. Fuck fuck fuck.
"You know where you're going yet?" Emma startles at the woman's voice once again cutting into her inner monologue.
"Uh, yeah, I guess." She gives the driver her own address. She can't even describe how weird it feels taking this girl back with her, she knows the stranger will be extremely freaked out when she wakes up, but Emma's out of options. She couldn't leave her falling down drunk and alone at a frat party, she can't just dump her unconscious on the street, and she has no idea where this girl lives. So Emma leans back on the head rest of the seat, and swallows the anxiousness tap dancing through all of her nerves.
When they make it back to her building, Emma pays the cabbie, and hauls the brunette to her feet clumsily. The girl is still out of it entirely. Her head flops onto Emma's shoulder, and she whines pitifully at the motion. Her feet drag and Emma is essentially carrying the other girl's body weight. She grunts as she slings her arm over her shoulders and begins moving them inside. She's never been so grateful for the elevator in her life.
Finally they reach the blonde's apartment, and Emma releases a deep breath when they step inside. She awkwardly maneuvers her intoxicated houseguest over to the couch, and sets her down there as gently as she can. She places her on her side, taking care to ensure she won't be able to roll over in her sleep and choke on her own vomit. Emma grabs a trash can and positions it near the girl's head on the floor by the couch, then pulls a throw blanket over the slumbering figure.
She shuts off the light, and finally, finally walks into her own room. She changes into pajamas as quickly as she can then immediately drops into her bed, falling asleep almost instantly.
About three hours later, she wakes up with a jolt when she hears a loud noise. It takes a moment for the fog in her brain to lift enough to identify the sound, but soon she realizes it's someone retching. She instantly remembers the drunk stranger on her couch and sits up. She wonders if she should go help her, but she's hesitant to go deal with all the vomiting. However, when she hears feet drumming across the floor, followed by a loud thump, and more retching, she knows she has to get up and help.
Emma makes her way into the hallway, and the rancid stench of vomit fills her nostrils immediately. She rounds the corner and groans at what she sees.
"Aw come on, my plant? That's what I put the trash can there for!"
Regina thought she was mortified before, but when Emma finishes recounting the events of last night, she's flabbergasted and humiliated. She stares in silence with her jaw hung open for at least a minute before shaking her head and attempting to say anything.
"You…I..how did-" eventually she just gives up trying to articulate a question, and buries her face in her hands. "Oh god."
"Hey look, it's okay. Everyone has a rough night every once in a while." Emma isn't quite sure what else to say, so she shuts up and fiddles with her hands on her lap.
Eventually Regina looks up again, and she has no idea where to start either. She sighs and decides there really isn't anything she can say. So she stands and quietly asks, "Where are all my things?"
Emma jumps up and Regina flinches at the movement. "Oh your purse is over here, your phone and your keys are in here, but there's no wallet. And your dress is still on the bathroom floor. It's kind of gross, you might want a plastic bag for it."
Regina groans at that and swipes one hand over her face. That's when she feels it. Her stomach is churning again and she knows she hasn't finished throwing up yet. She covers her mouth with her hand, places the other over her stomach and looks to Emma desperately.
Emma recognizes the expression on the brunette's face, "Uh oh, okay come with me the bathroom is through here."
Regina rushes after Emma and just barely makes it to the toilet in time. While she's hunched over the porcelain bowl on the tile floor she feels a hand gather her hair behind her head and hold it there, and another rubbing soothing circles on her back. She's never had someone comfort her while she's been sick before; it's strange but she's grateful for it.
After a little while Regina sits back on her heels and tilts her head up. "I think I'm done," she croaks out. She leans over and flushes the toilet and looks over to Emma. "I'm sorry for being disgusting." She says meekly.
Emma continues to rub circles between Regina's shoulder blades when she responds, "Hey it's okay. I've been where you are before and I wish I woke up with someone as nice as me around."
Regina laughs drily at that and leans unconsciously into Emma's touch.
"Do you mind if I ask your name? I never got it last night." Emma speaks up.
"Regina. Regina Mills." The brunette says with the tiniest hint of a smile.
"Well Regina Mills, it's nice to meet you." Emma says with a flourish.
Regina scoffs, "After I've thrown up all over your apartment, nice to meet me indeed." She grows solemn for a moment, "I really am sorry for all the trouble I caused you. But thank you, for saving me, for taking care of me, I don't know how to repay you."
"It's really okay, you know. I've had more trouble before, trust me. And you're welcome. I'm glad I was able to help. You don't have to repay me, just maybe try to be a little more careful next time, huh?" Emma replies. She gets up and fills a glass with water from the sink and hands it to Regina who gratefully accepts it.
When she speaks, however, Regina grows slightly defensive, "I never usually drink like that. I just had a bad night. My boyfriend broke up with me."
Emma tries not to get too excited about that. Regina is obviously feeling lousy about it, and she's probably nowhere near ready to date again just yet. So the blonde keeps her reaction in check and says instead, "Hey, you don't owe me any explanations, it's alright. I'm sorry to hear that though."
"Thanks. I think I'm probably better off though." Regina offers no further comment but sighs deeply and combs her fingers through her hair. She figures she's been invading Emma's apartment and life for long enough so she makes a move to stand up but she's a little woozy. She begins to stumble but soon strong hands are holding onto her arm and holding her up.
"Woah, you okay?" Emma asks, still gently grasping Regina's arm.
"Yeah, yes I'm fine," Regina straightens herself up a bit and begins to feel more stable on her feet, "I just got a little dizzy for a moment. This is going to be the hangover from hell." She groans.
"You need some pancakes," Emma declares, "Best hangover food ever. It'll soak up whatever's left in your stomach. The dining hall should still be serving them for the next forty five minutes, let's get you some pancakes."
"After everything you've already done for me and now you want to get breakfast with me?" Regina questions.
"Why not?" Emma shrugs.
Regina seems at a loss for how to answer that, so she just says, "I can't go in these."
"Why not?" Emma repeats with a cheeky smile. "You look fine, and it's Saturday morning on campus. There's hardly going to be anyone there in the first place and everyone else is going to be as sloppy as you and me."
"You're going in your pajamas too?" Regina inquires.
As she's speaking, Emma starts to walk out of the bathroom, "Yeah. I'm comfy, and the crowd there certainly won't care if I'm in my pj's" Regina follows her out of the bathroom and sees the blonde pulling on a pair of sneakers and a jacket.
"I hate to ask for any more favors, but is there any way I could brush my teeth? My mouth tastes awful." Regina sheepishly asks.
"Yeah, sure. There's a spare toothbrush in the top drawer. You can use it and just chuck it when you're done with it." Emma points to the bathroom while she speaks and plops down in her chair to wait.
"I feel like a broken record, but thank you so much." Regina says for what feels like the umpteenth time. Emma smiles but says nothing this time. After a few moments Regina reemerges from the bathroom. It looks as though she made an effort to smooth her hair and wash her face as well. Emma is struck by how beautiful this girl is even hungover and in ratty pajamas first thing in the morning. It makes her heartbeat pick up a little and she gulps hard.
"Ready to go?" she rasps out.
"I don't have any shoes. What happened to mine from last night?" Regina responds.
"Oh I took them off you when I dumped you on the couch. I figured you'd sleep better without them. Are you sure you want to wear those though? Stilettos don't really go with pj's. You can borrow a pair of my sneakers and just carry the heels with the rest of your stuff." Emma stands and grabs the shoes in question, as well as Regina's purse and extends it to her. "Don't worry, everything that was in your purse when I met you last night is still in there."
"Believe me, at this point I have no reason to doubt you." Regina starts sifting through her purse anyways, checking to see if anything was lost before Emma. "Oh shit, I left my wallet in my dorm so it wouldn't get stolen. I can't pay for pancakes."
"Don't worry, I got you." Emma grins.
"Emma, no. You've done way too much for me already." Regina protests.
"No sweat, you can just owe me." Normally Emma wouldn't ask for payback for something as little as breakfast, but she was more than content to have this beautiful hungover mess owe her, it meant she would get to see her again.
"Okay, but I will pay you back. For everything, not just the pancakes." Regina insists.
"I already told you, you don't owe me for last night. Come on, let's get you some sneakers then let's get you some food." After a few minutes, they're finally ready to go. Emma's hands are free but Regina's got her purse, her stilettos, and her dress in a plastic bag. As Emma shuts the door behind her she can't help but hope that she and Regina are on their way to becoming good friends. Or maybe more.
