This is a continuation of "A Mother and her Son" in which Regina continues to be bothered by nightmares. This is not necessarily a Swan Queen Fic, sorry. It's more of the beginning of a beautiful friendship, or should I say a not-so-beautiful friendship. Still, I hope you will enjoy!
I own nothing.
The Beginning of a Not-So-Beautiful Friendship
Regina massaged her aching temples and stared into her mug of coffee that long ago went cold. While the fragile relationship she had with her son seemed to be on the mend, the nightmares refused to leave her alone at night, and the loss of sleep was catching up and nipping at her heels. Heavy bags hung below her hollow eyes and shadowed circles could no longer be hidden by any sensible amount of makeup. A sigh left her lips and rippled the dark liquid now just inches from her face. Regina hadn't realized she'd even begun to slump at all until the stale smell of cold coffee wrinkled her nose and snapped her awake again.
The clock on the wall of Granny's Diner read 9:15, meaning she was forty five minutes late for work, not that anyone had the authority to call her out on the fact. It would appear as if she were just reading the paper if no one looked too closely, and no one dared. Regina held the citizens of Storybrooke in a firm, strict hold, so that she was never questioned.
The bell on the door chimed, and Regina didn't even have to look up to know who it was, her mere presence could be felt.
"Good morning, Madame Mayor," Emma greeted, throwing her red leather jacket over the back of the chair and taking a seat as if she had every right to. This irked Regina more than it usually would, to the point where she really had nothing to say in return. Regina pushed the coffee away so she would no longer have to look at it and folded the paper, since that mechanism was as good as useless with the blond right in front of her.
"Miss Swan," Regina greeted, not bothering to sound anything short of annoyed. "Whatever it is you've come to rub your nose in, please do get it over with so that I can continue the rest of my morning in peace."
Emma's eyebrows shot up at the mayor's blatant, monotonic statement. "Somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," she muttered into the steaming mug of hot chocolate Ruby placed on the table moments earlier. One thin finger plunged into the cinnamon- sprinkled whipped cream and placed it on her tongue.
"As far as I'm aware, one has to actually fall asleep at night in order to get up, so I do believe your accusation is incorrect," Regina rebuked, folding her arms over her chest. The smirk plastered on her face was both challenging and arrogant all at once, and it didn't fail in its job of egging the blonde on further.
Emma cocked her head to one side, finally taking her eyes off the warm drink. She lifted her gaze to meet Regina's dark brown eyes and took in the mayor's pale, almost grey complexion and dark bags beneath her eyes.
"Well don't take this the wrong way, but you look like hell."
Regina sighed exasperatedly, and glared at the blonde sheriff, replying in a biting, sarcastic tone, "Of course not, how could someone possible take that the wrong way."
Emma's shoulders slumped and soon she too was massaging her head. If there was one single thing Regina Mills never failed to do, giving Emma a headache was it. "Look," she ground out through a clenched jaw, "you know I didn't mean it like that, so would you just drop it?"
Two delicate, perfectly plucked eyes brows rose in amusement. "If I'm not mistaken, and trust me I rarely am, you approached me, so if you would now like to leave me alone, that would be very much appreciated." The ever-present venom in the mayor's voice was unmistakable; she was in full attack mode. Even her stance, as she leaned over the table further with each syllable, reminded Emma of a ruthless predator, which inevitably made her the prey.
"You know what?" Emma leaned in close, copying Regina, and pronounced with just as much venom, "I would. I have to get the station anyways." With that, Emma rose, snatched her leather jacket, adjusting the badge on her belt, and headed for the door with an exaggerated swagger in her jean-clad hips.
Regina stared after the blond until she was out of site, and suddenly wished the phrase "out of sight, out of mind," were true. Emma would follow her everywhere at the tips of her conscience. Her essence seeped deep into Regina's skin and ingrained into her very core. It was unbelievably annoying.
The adrenaline fled from her veins and fatigue took its place once again. Setting her jaw to feign indifference, Regina stood up and winced when her head pounded in response. The day was going to be very long for Regina Mills.
That night, the mayor of Storybrooke sat in her study, nursing a glass of strong apple cider in one hand, and her aching head in the other. The throbbing in her temples hadn't ceased in the slightest; instead it had proceeded to get worse. The pain settled at the forefront of her brain and nested behind her eyes, pulling down on her leaden eyelids and begging her to close them and sleep. Regina knew better through, that if she were to succumb to it, she would at once be plagued by vivid, horrific dreams, awaken wondering if they were real, and then the cycle would begin again. Maybe this was her curse; the one that would end her for good, as if being trapped in Storybrooke wasn't enough. Indeed, The Dark Curse was just as much Regina's prison as anyone else's, if not more so. After all, how much could one suffer in oblivion?
As Regina began to drift into a frustrated sleep, the doorbell rang and reverberated off the walls of her skull angrily. Leave it to some insufferable, insignificant fool to ruin my first chance at sleep in who knows how long, Regina thought furiously. Regina realized too late that she should have been prepared to find the blonde sheriff on the other side of her door. She suppressed a low growl in the back of her throat.
"Miss Swan," Regina greeted tightly. "What brings you here at this hour?" Regina made sure Emma knew she was being disrupting and took pride when she shifted uncomfortably.
"I…" Emma faltered and trailed off, realizing she didn't have a good reason for her late night visit. Say something Emma, she ordered herself to come up with an excuse, just talk about Henry, or something sheriff related or – "Why do you hate me so much?" she finally asked. Or that.
Regina crossed her arms and regarded Emma cynicism. "Excuse me?"
"I mean, why can't we seem to have a civil conversation?"
"We're having one right now, dear." Regina didn't bother trying to hide her disdain.
"With all due respect, Madame Mayor, tone can be very misleading, so if this is your idea of civil, you'll have to work on not sounding like you'd rather be slitting my throat."
Regina chuckled, shaking her head and taking a step out into the chilling night. "Now Miss Swan, if I were going to kill you, I'd be much more –" she paused, seeming to search for the right word – "Efficient."
The brunette's statement sent a shiver down Emma's spine and spread goose bumps over her fair skin. It caused her to take a step back until her heels met with nothing but thin air and she nearly fell off of the front step.
"Of course, I would never do such a thing," Regina assured with a sickly sweet smile.
"O-of course," Emma replied, though she wasn't entirely convinced. The blonde forced some confidence into her voice, not about to give Regina the upper hand. "Because I'm the sheriff and I would arrest you for even trying. You can't get rid of me that easy."
"So I've noticed," Regina replied. "Why don't you come inside so I can insult you without my toes going numb from the cold?" she smirked, turning and stepping into the large white house, not bothering to check if Emma was even following. Regina knew she was.
Emma followed the mayor through the main foyer, and into the study were Regina's now watered down drink sat abandoned on the coffee table. The dim lighting filtered through the crystal glass, tossing soft shards of light askew. Regina picked it up and swirled the liquid around, then took a sip and frowned at the taste. Sighing, she set the glass back down and folded her hands on top of her crossed legs. Emma sat in the same set she had the night they met, the night Henry had come looking for his birth mother.
Regina stared at Emma for a while, until Emma couldn't suppress an uncomfortable squirm, and then finally broke the silence, asking, "Would you care for a drink, Miss Swan?"
"Uh, yeah," Emma stuttered out awkwardly, "a drink would be good." She then ran a hand through her long hair and watched Regina stand and leave the room. She returned a moment later with a honey colored scotch for Emma, and a fresh glass of cider for herself.
Regina handed the glass to Emma, who nodded in thanks. "I figured you'd want something a bit stronger."
Emma tasted the chilled alcohol. "Yep, I think you've got my alcoholic tastes down."
"Yes, and it was so hard," Regina replied sarcastically, and it wasn't bad natured this time. "I have a very good memory; you'll find that I don't forget things very easily."
There was that look in the mayor's eyes again that Emma noticed, like she was remembering something from a past life, something painful.
"I should probably be going," said Emma, setting her now empty scotch glass down on the coffee table. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Regina wilt for just a second, before her icy mask of indifference was back in place.
"What kind of mayor would I be if I let the sheriff drive home intoxicated?" she inquired. "Never mind the fact that you'd be making a hypocrite of yourself. The laws do apply to the sheriff as well, you know."
"Fine, you're right." Emma breathed out a long breath and stood up, immediately missing the warmth radiating off of the other women. "I'll just walk home then."
Regina stood as well, now not nearly as tall without her heels. "Nonsense, you'll freeze out there dressed like that, you can wait here." Oh God, I just told her to stay, I must be more exhausted than I thought, Regina thought, wincing as the blonde stopped abruptly, and cautiously turned around, an inquisitive expression adorning her face. "Really?"
Regina frowned and folded her arms, something Emma was beginning to notice as a defensive gesture, and replied dully, "Yes, really. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not evil."
"I didn't mean that –" the blonde began, but was then cut off.
"Yes you did." Regina stated it so calmly, so plainly that it made Emma wince at how well she could detect a lie. "Don't think I don't know about your involvement in my own son's plans to rid the world of my existence. Did you honestly think I wouldn't find out?" Regina scoffed which sounded more like a choked sob, and shook her head. "I'm starting to wonder if maybe he's right."
"Please don't tell me you actually believe it too." Emma said, exasperated and fed up with that damned book. "Regina, those are just stories, they mean nothing. Henry's confused; he'll get over it, trust me."
Regina's voice was barely strong enough to form more than a strained whisper as her throat went dry. "If you only knew."
"What I know, is that you really need to get some sleep, take some Benadryl if you have to."
Regina sighed, feeling far more vulnerable than she would ever be comfortable with. Damn sleep deprivation. "I suppose you're right."
Emma could have sworn that the world had come to an end, mildly imploded at the very least, because Regina Mills had just verbally admitted she was right. Perhaps, just maybe – because with Regina you really couldn't hope for more – this would be the beginning of a not-so-beautiful friendship.
Well, that's it. Not much, but I hope you liked it anyways!