Emma, Emma Swan, was a young headstrong and care free teenager, who loved a little mischief. But as she was starting to approach 20, her parents were always riding her because of their expectations of maturity. They wanted what was best for her, but Emma saw their efforts as smothering. So, she rebelled. Poorly.
Emma and her parents lived in the small town of Storybrooke, Maine. Storybrooke was only 50 miles south east of Augusta, and yet surprisingly secluded from the rest of the world. Most citizens when travelling to the big city went south for the two hour drive to Boston—a treat for those that actually left Storybrooke, and generally considered quite a bit better than Augusta.
In her 19 years of living she had learnt that life was a gift that was worth enjoying. Emma was the type to take life by the balls and ride it hard, rather than the other way around. Emma had learnt this by watching most people in town fall on their faces and amount to nothing. The carefree blonde had always wanted more for herself, she wanted to get out of this backwater town. But after high school and being rejected from Boston U—the only university she applied for—she took a year to herself. That year gave her perspective: it made her realise that some people in Storybrooke were doing well for themselves. Some owned the business they always wanted or, like her mother, they were living out their childhood dream. Emma's mother, Mary Margaret, was the Mayor of that small backwater town and Emma had grown to respect that; though deep down she had a pent-up anger. She hated herself for being unable to make it into University and oddly enough she resented her parents for being so damn supportive. They were never angry at her. They never pushed her. They just told her to "follow her dreams." Emma didn't even know what her dreams were.
Emma spent most of her time in the community making connections and came to the conclusion she would do well to work in law enforcement. So come late March, Emma had applied for the Boston Police Academy, it was safe to say her parents Mary-Margaret and David were very pleased.
But this story starts in late June when the Swan family were welcoming an important guest from Boston.
It was a Thursday evening at the Swan family dinner when Mary Margaret made the announcement.
She, after discussing some issue at work, told her daughter and husband that a politician from the city was coming to town the next day to help Mary Margaret. David was shocked, he thought his wife was perfect and found it rude that the States of Massachusetts and Maine deemed it necessary to send his wonderful wife help. He thought she was doing just fine. Mary Margaret assured him it wasn't an insult, nor was it unnecessary as she did find the "issue" in question a bit of a tough one.
Emma had zoned in and out of the whole conversation as she wasn't really too bothered with anything that wasn't her acceptance letter at that point. It was only when her mother said her name that she properly focused on the topic at hand.
"Emma, I want you to show Mrs. Mills around on Saturday. I think if Mrs. Mills gets to know this town she will be able to assist me more effectively."
Emma groaned, ugh Mrs. Mills, sounds pretentious. "Fine" Emma eventually muttered. The only Politician Emma liked was her mother and that was for the obvious reason.
…
Emma found herself at the only lodging in town at 4pm the next day to greet this "Mrs. Mills." Emma waited in the diner attached to the front of the bed and breakfast and kept an eye out for someone she didn't recognized - everyone who came to this diner was a local, part of the regular crowd- so a stranger would be rather easy to spot.
Surely enough, at 4:06pm in walked a very sharply dressed woman. Emma was in awe. This woman walked into a place she had never been to before like she owned it and everyone inside, it was almost…swaggie, Emma thought. Emma's eyes were instantly stuck on the woman, eyeing her from top to bottom and back again. The woman had clearly noticed and made her way over to the booth Emma was sitting slack-jawed in.
"I assume you are Miss Swan." The sleek brunette said coolly.
"Emma." She said as she stretched out her hand.
"Ms. Mills." The brunette responded, but didn't take the out stretched hand.
Before Emma could think she blurted out, "Ms., I was told you were a Mrs." It wasn't even a question, it was just an invasive statement. But the brunette didn't seem offended. She just sat opposite Emma and explained.
"Divorce hasn't gone through, so legally yes, I'm technically Mrs. Mills." The brunette muttered, "It's my own last name anyway, it shouldn't matter," in afterthought. It wasn't really meant for Emma but the brunette knew she heard.
The conversation's direction was quickly changed by Mrs.- Ms.- Mills' request to be shown her room, or someone that could take her to her room. Emma complied and gestured for the slick politician to follow her. Emma led her through a door in the back of the diner that brought them to a desk and a stairwell.
The desk had a sign that read check-in, which the brunette gave little more than a cursory glance. The brunette realised this must have been the check-in area.
There was a sweet old lady behind the counter that Emma greeted with a kind hello. When she introduced the old woman as "Granny," Ms. Mills decided not to question it. For all she knew, this really was the blonde's grandmother.
The old woman's face grew grim as she had to explain that they couldn't have any guests stay due to a pipe leak that wouldn't be fixed for at least 4 days. The old woman continued to apologise as Emma led the slick brunette out of the diner.
"Well then, this really is a back-water town." The brunette said sharply as the two woman reached the pavement.
Emma didn't respond to the insult of her town and merely indicated that she was stepping away for a moment to call her mother. Emma quickly explained the situation to her fretting mother and ended up suggesting the out of towner stay in their guest house. Mary-Margret agreed it was a wonderful idea and, well, that was that.
Emma made her way back to the brunette. "Mum says you are welcome to stay in our guest house if you would like."
"Well there is no other choice, is there?" It wasn't really a question, Emma realized.
"Well our house is just a small walk away." Emma said assuming the brunette would follow. She didn't. "It's this way." Emma said turning back to face Ms. Mills.
"I do have a car, Miss Swan." Regina pointed to the black Mercedes Benz a few meters from them. Oh. Emma followed Ms. Mills and got into the car shortly after the brunette did.
"Where to?"
Emma was quick to give directions but somehow managed to stumble on her own words. After a rather pointed look from the other woman she repeated herself with a "sorry, Ms. Mills" fastened to the end of her sentence.
"Regina Mills" The brunette said, "If you tire of calling me Ms. Mills, I also go by Regina." Regina rarely ever let people call her by her first name, but she had taken a liking to Emma – for the mere fact that she was so young, naive and well, in all honestly, Regina liked the fact that she could so easily intimidate Emma; she found it quite amusing, actually.
Emma made a note that Regina should turn onto Mifflin Street. While driving down the street Regina noted it was one of the nicer streets she had seen in this town. She guessed the local council paid rather well. Emma pointed out that they were close and said Regina should turn into the drive way of 108. Regina followed instruction and was greeted with a beautiful white home, by far the nicest on the street.
The two women made their way from the car into the house in silence, it wasn't until Emma started walking up the grand stair that wound around the entire wall of the foyer and disappeared to the second floor, that Regina spoke.
At first she just cleared her throat, loudly, but Emma continued to climb. "Could you be a dear and show me where the guess house is?" Regina was sure she could find it on her own, but felt slightly uncomfortable in such a foreign place.
"Shit!" Emma came bounding down the stair and almost tripped over her own feet. "Sorry." And in that moment Emma found herself feeling like a hurt puppy. Her eyes were begging for forgiveness and her heart raced at the thought that she had displeased Regina. "Sorry." She said again, more firmly, yet still unable to meet the sleek Politician's eyes.
"No need to beat yourself over the head, dear." The older woman smirked, this was going to be more fun than she expected, she thought to herself. "Just point me in the right direction and I'll be out of your way." Regina was a bit relieved when Emma, rather than simply pointing, made the indication for Regina to follow her and started her walk towards the back of the house.
The white suburban mansion was quiet and empty. Regina came to the conclusion that both of Emma's parents must be at work and if this awkward stumbling fool had any siblings they were apparently elsewhere. Emma was obviously aware of the fact that her mother was at the office and wouldn't be home until late. Her father was also gone for the day, working for a man named Marco at "Marco's Wood Design." Emma always laughed at the name as it was just an around about way of saying "Marco's Carpentry" and everyone in town knew it.
Emma took Regina through the polished living room to the kitchen, which lead to a large outdoor patio that over looked the house's vast and very lush backyard. Regina took a moment on the patio; although Regina lived in a large city her whole life, Regina had always loved nature, and this backyard was tapping into all her senses: There was a large area of grass in front of the patio, to the right of that a pool, and what appeared to be the guest house all the way in the back right corner of the garden. To the left of the patio was a cluster of trees and on the largest one was an old rope swing, which Regina found very sweet.
"Beautiful." Regina murmured, in that moment she was rather envious; ever since she was a child, she had always dreamt of a large home like this. Unfortunately, her parents raised her in a city apartment. After they passed, she just bought herself an even bigger city apartment—a penthouse.
Emma nodded in acknowledgement and continued on her way down the garden path.
Upon entering the guest house, Regina noted that it was rather ghostly, as if no one had been inside in years. Her first tip off was the jammed door and the second was that Emma was now pulling large white sheets from the furniture. Regina looked around, despite its original look of abandonment, the guest house was actually quite luxurious. It was lavish, contemporary, and in that sense rather different than the main house. It wasn't that the main house was ugly, but the buildings were clearly designed by two different people.
To Regina's right was a fully equipped kitchen and dining area, attached to a lounge that faced a mounted TV. That same wall lead to another door, which Regina assumed was the bathroom and bedroom.
Emma had managed to pull all the sheets from their resting places and walked herself through the door to the bedroom to start removing coverings in that room. Once she had finished her task she walked back to the entrance of the guest house, a pile of dusty sheets in her arms, and just stared silently into the guest house.
Regina didn't mind the young blonde at the door, so she made her way into the bedroom and let out a sigh of relief upon discovering a bathroom. She was grateful she wouldn't have to share such close quarters with anyone. She liked her privacy.
Regina noted that Emma was still at the door, sheets overflowing in her arms. Regina had noted her face was no longer bright, instead a hurting expression had clawed its way across the blonde's face.
"Miss Swan?"
Nothing.
"Miss Swan…"
A sigh.
"Miss Swan."
"Hmm, yeah?" It was distant.
"Are you okay?" Regina was known as a heartless Politician, and in all honesty, she liked it. Regina took pride in her ruthlessness - caring for no one but herself. But…something about the blonde's expression made her want ask questions.
Emma snapped her eyes up to Regina's deep brown eyes and shook off whatever she was feeling. "Fine." And with that Emma and the dusty sheets were gone.
…
Later that night during dinner with Emma's parents, there was a stillness in the air - neither of her parents were talking like they normally would and Emma, despite never really contributing much anyway, was at a loss; she could barely get out a "This food is amazing, thanks dad."
The only words spoken throughout the whole meal was David's "I miss him too." Mary-Margret had shed a few tears following David's confession. Emma on the other hand, had grunted and wished the day to be over already.
Regina was nowhere to be seen. Mary-Margret told Emma to bring Ms. Mills some food once they had finished eating. Emma complied.
Regina wasn't too surprised to find Emma at her door later that night with food; she'd met Mary-Margret only once before, but that was enough for Regina to glean the type of a person she was- of course she'd send food out-. The food was nothing too extravagant, just some chicken, mashed potatoes and a few vegetables.
Emma shoved the food into the slick brunette's hands and left before Regina could even manage a half-hearted "Thank you".
…
When the moon was at its highest point Emma found herself climbing out of bed and flicking her light on. She couldn't sleep and bet herself that her parents couldn't either. She felt physically sick. She felt her heart racing, like someone was pulling it from her chest. After all these years it seemed like only yesterday that she had gotten the news.
Emma pulled a hoodie over her singlet that was so big it covered her boy shorts as well. She turned her bedroom light back off and crept down the hallway in an attempt not to disturb her parents. Emma made her way down the stairs, out the back door, through the garden and to the front door of the guest house; she hesitated for a moment before entering. She didn't knock.
The blonde made her way to the couch and before sitting, snatched a photo from the coffee table. Emma made no effort muffle her tears as they began to fall, she couldn't care less about the sharp Politician in that moment.
A light flicked on the bedroom, a slamming the door announced Regina's entrance and awareness of her late-night intruder. She stood in silk pyjamas and a white robe, alarm and bafflement colouring her expression as she surveyed the scene before her. "What on earth!" Regina was used to middle-aged white men telling her to get back to the kitchen and being rushed through large crowds by security but a blonde crying on her couch was something completely new.
"Miss Swan?" Regina shoulders relaxed a little knowing she wasn't in harm's way, but she still found this an unusual position. She was terrible with other people's emotions, and she avoided having friends for that very reason.
Regina was hesitant to sit on the couch but after noting that Emma wasn't moving she decided to sit down away from the blonde. The way Emma held that photo frame and the sadness in her eyes made Regina want to ask questions again. She found Emma to be a very curious creature: the politician was normally good at reading people but Emma was a mystery.
"What's running through your mind, Emma?" Regina's voice was calm and soft, which was a surprise to Regina.
"Graham." Emma whispered as she gripped the photo a little tighter. Regina recalled glimpsing the photo earlier that night; it was a photo of Emma - from perhaps 5 years ago - and a young man that looked to be about 20, from the photo.
Regina waited for Emma to say more, to explain, but nothing came. Regina waited stiffly for Emma to regain a bit of her composure.
After what seemed like forever to Regina, Emma had finally established a solid and steady breathing pattern, which meant she would be able to speak. Emma went on to reveal that Graham was her brother.
He lived at home a lot longer than his mates who had moved out and to different places around the country. At first he felt cramped by his sister and his parents, so they arrange for him to live in the guest house, which offered some much-needed independence and brightened his mood considerably. The happiness gave him room to learn about himself and soon enough he realise he wanted to be in the police force, so he pushed and made his dream a reality. When Graham was 22 he started renting him own apartment in Boston as he was officially working on the force. The picture Emma was holding was taken when she was 15, at Graham's graduation from the academy.
"He was killed – shot - on duty when he was 23." Emma added solemnly to the end.
Regina had no idea what to say, feelings really weren't her thing, she could only make one person in this world happy and she was sure that if she treated Emma that way it would just come off as patronizing. She opted for silence.
Emma pulled the photo from her chest and just looked at it. "I'm sorry," Regina said softly while moving closer to Emma, not for comfort but to get a better look at the image. "You two look alike," she offered.
"Please, don't." Emma said. She had managed to explain the situation, but she didn't want a stranger's sympathy or to be told she resembled him.
"Okay." Regina thought perhaps she ought to just leave this woman alone, get some sleep. But, her heart was keeping her on the couch. Regina couldn't understand why she had such an interest in this young woman, and it annoyed her that Emma was such a mystery. She wanted to know more, but she knew this was a bad attachment to have.
Emma shifted her legs so they were off the floor and nearly crossed in front of her body. "I redecorated."
She what? "What?" Regina asked.
"This furniture isn't his. I redecorated."
Regina was awkwardly relieved, it was weird enough staying in a work colleague's home, but sleeping in a bed that belonged to a dead man was definitely out of Regina's comfort zone.
"Its, ahh-" Regina had no idea what to say.
Thankfully, Emma continued on her own. "All his stuff went with him to Boston, so mum let me redecorate. His stuff is in the basement now."
"Well it's decorated nicely." Oh god. What was that? Regina fumbled with her shirt, never had she ever felt so awkward and vulnerable in her life. Emma seemed to be having a very unwelcomed effect of Regina.
"Thanks…" Emma muttered with a bit of a laugh.
The two woman continued to chat for a while. Initially, Regina was doing it out of pity and Emma, for the distraction, but shortly the two found themselves to be having a very enjoyable exchange. They discussed Regina's job, they breached the "issue" Mary-Margret was having; which Emma discovered she found much more interesting when coming out of Regina's mouth. They chatted about the police academy. And…well, life.
The night flew by - neither woman realized they had been talking for so long until Emma happen to glance at the clock mounted on the wall of the kitchen. It was 5am, which caused Regina to slowly stand and excuse herself for some well needed sleep. Emma watched the brunette walk away and mused to herself, "That woman is going to do some damage." Emma knew her attraction to the politician was but a crush, solely due to the fact that Regina was a new face in town. Nothing more.
That night, Emma remained on the couch clutching the photo close to herself. She knew it would be the only way she would achieve any sleep that night.
Let me know your thoughts, more to come c: