A/N: I feel like I should probably list a couple Trigger Warnings. It's implied from the prompt that is listed in the first chapter that Killian is a drinker and that Robin is kind of not all he was cracked up to be. I do not like violence really, so honestly, I won't write Killian as a big, tough jerkface (even though I really don't like him). And the same for Robin. It's implied that things happen behind closed doors but beyond a simple description, I won't be going in to great detail. Okay? Okay. :)

Chapter 2

When Regina enters the mansion, she can smell burnt toast coming from the kitchen. She makes her way through the foyer, leaving her purse and coat on the dining room table. "Henry?" she asks, seeing him fiddling with an upside down toaster and a butter knife. He has on a pair of plaid pajama pants and slippers with a white, ribbed tank top and it's all Regina can do to not shake her head at him for wanting to be like Emma so much. "What in the world are you doing?"

"This stupid toaster burned my toast and then it wouldn't pop it up, so I was trying to fix it." He huffs and sighs and groans before getting even more frustrated and slamming his fist onto the granite countertop. "I just wanted a piece of toast. Why can't I just make a frigging piece of toast in this house?"

Regina puts her hand over Henry's fist that is still clenched on the counter and then moves the butter knife away from him. "What's going on, dear?" she asks softly, trying to make eye contact with him. His hair is getting long again. So long that it's curling towards the nape of his neck and his bangs are pushed to the side, partly with a thin layer of perspiration. "This isn't about toast and you know it. You and your mother are the same way. Take it out on appliances when you're angry or upset."

He is angry and she is right, as always, so he smiles the tiniest bit before protesting with, "Mom, it burned my toast."

"Henry."

He finally finds it in himself to look down into his mother's eyes. They're so dark, yet so full of kindness and love that he sometimes forgets how much he hated her at one point in time. Yet there's a part that makes himself remember. Because it makes him cherish her even more. "I just don't understand all of this, mom," he says as he fights away tears. "I just don't get it."

"Get what, Henry?" Regina asks. "What do you mean?"

"You and Robin. Ma and Killian. I just don't get it." He pushes his hands through his hair, making parts of it stand straight on end. His muscles flex, his eyes start filling with tears, and he groans again. "I just don't like him. I've tried, mom. I've tried so hard. There's just something about him. I can't get past it."

"Honey," Regina says as she leads him over to the stools that sit at the center island. She sits him down and then positions herself onto a stool next to him. "You have to let this go."

"I can't," he says softly. "I still think it was supposed to end differently. I believe that it was supposed to end differently."

"Henry," Regina breathes. She knows what he means. This isn't the first time he's told her she should have ended up with Emma. And that first time? It came with a fit of angry tears and running away when he was 14 and finding him in the forest nearly frozen to death. It's hard to think about those 52 and a half hours and how if she did not have Emma's gentle touches and encouraging words and steadfast heart, she herself probably wouldn't still be here. "It's unfortunately just not the way it was meant to play out."

"You can't believe that," Henry says. He's looking at his hands, wondering if he'll ever discover that he has magic inside of him like his moms. He wants it sometimes. He wants to feel that special, that significant, that amazing. If only so he can make his future more enjoyable than this hell he's currently living. "You guys were meant for each other."

Regina has heard those words come out of his mouth on more than one occasion and it never gets any easier to hear them. "You still believe that?"

Henry turns his head and looks at his mom. He shrugs his shoulder and then lifts an eyebrow. "You can't tell me that you don't."

"Yes, dear, I can," Regina lies. "Because we aren't meant for each other. I'm with the person I'm supposed to be with."

"That fairy dust thing is shit, mom."

"Henry!" Regina hisses. "You watch your mouth!"

"Well! It is!" Henry yells. He actually yells at his mom. And he immediately regrets it when he sees her nostrils flare. "I'm sorry," he whispers and looks back down at his hands.

Regina takes a deep breath and pulls her eyes away from her son. She looks at the toaster, the piece of burnt toast, the butter knife, and she can't help but think about the time she walked in on Emma dismantling a coffee maker after hers and Killian's first fight, or the time Emma thought the electric can opener would be a great next victim when she found Killian's empty bottles of rum stashed in their apartment's shed. The memories make her heart hurt in a way it only does when Emma Swan is concerned. "Would it make you feel any better if I told you I have wondered about that damn fairy dust myself?"

Henry's ears perk and he snaps his neck to look at his mom. "Are you for real?"

"Yes, Henry, I'm 'for real.'" Regina sighs and then stands, making her way over to the toaster. She picks up the appliance and starts putting it back together, sans the butter knife. When she plugs it in and drops two pieces of bread into the open slots and pushes the lever down, she makes eye contact with her son. "Cinnamon and sugar?" she asks.

"Yes, please," he answers, a small smile on his lips. "And milk… please?"

Regina raises her brows at him, a grin pulling at her lips. "Anything for my little prince."

When Killian rolls off the couch in the middle of the night and starts cursing at the top of his lungs, Emma isn't sure whether she should laugh at him or scream at him. She comes flying into the living room, though, ready to be of assistance only to find him already on his feet, struggling to find his balance. "Sit back down, you fool," Emma says calmly, leading him back to the couch.

"I can find my own way to the couch, milady," he mumbles, but takes the guidance anyway.

"What happened today, Killian?" Emma asks as she plops down next to him. He smells like sea water and stale rum and Old Spice cologne and has a horrible case of body odor. He needs a shower badly, but that is just not something she wants to help with right now.

"We came upon rough seas. It was quite a squall." Killian leans back onto the couch, rubbing his head with his good hand. "There was nothing I could do. The crew was… well, they were useless, running around like chickens."

"Did you lose the boat?"

"No, I saved her." Killian looks over at Emma and smiles. "I always save the girl. You know that."

If there is one thing that Emma has always loved about Killian, it's his ability to charm a woman. But in the same breath, she hates it just as much. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Where'd Regina go?" Killian asks, his voice dropping at her name, jealousy coating his words. He's always been jealous of Emma's friendship with Regina, but lately, it seems to be a driving force behind his moody days and drunken nights.

"She went home," Emma answers with a sigh. "She didn't want to see this shit show."

"Oh, come on now, love. This? This is a jolly good show. A mighty pirate being taken down by a wee wave."

"Killian, stop," Emma says softly. "It's not a big deal. You'll go back out. You'll start catching what you need to catch."

"What were you two talking about when I so rudely came home to my wife?" he asks, pulling his eyes away from Emma's.

Emma lets out a laugh as she tries to stand up, but his hand on her leg holds her in place. She looks at his hand and then at his face. His jaw is clenched and she knows what's coming next. He's going to pick a fight and Emma's going to have to restrain him with magic and in the morning, everything will be fine. Just like always. "You really want to play this game with me?" Emma finally says and with a wave of her hand, she's magicked his hook across the room onto the dining room table. "Bad form to play with a man's hook, remember?"

"Emma," he says through clenched teeth. "My hook. I'd like it back."

"Then stop with the Regina bullshit," Emma says calmly.

"Then you stop having feelings for her."

If air could stop, if sound could hold still, if the walls could close in on themselves, this is when it would be nice if it happened. Emma pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and bites down gently. A shake of the head and a simple puff of air later and she stands up. She turns to look down at him, his eyes really are sad and she wants to scream at him, but she just can't. She settles for brutal honesty. "I'll stop having feelings for Regina when you stop comparing me to Milah."

Killian's eyes lighten and Emma knows she's just won this round. She knows he will always only love Milah and that's okay. Because honestly? Emma is so in love with Regina it physically makes her hands ache and her throat swell.

"That's fair, my lady," Killian says, holding his hand out for Emma to help him up. When she does and he stands, Emma waves her hand and his hook is back, attached firmly where it should be. "Thank you," he says softly.

"Killian?" Emma says so quietly that it's barely audible. His eyes drift to hers and she shrugs her shoulders. "I do love you," she whispers.

"But you aren't in love with me," he says back, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's a bloody shame, though. A man with these eyes shouldn't be let off the hook."

"'Off the hook?' Really?" Emma asks, a laugh following her question.

He chuckles when she takes his hand and leads him towards the bathroom. "You know it's good form to poke fun at oneself," he says while following her, his boot heels dragging on the wooden floor.

"Oh, yes, how I could I forget. Go. Shower. You smell like a deck hand." She pushes him into the bathroom before closing the door behind him. When she leans against the doorframe, she silently hopes that he won't remember this in the morning.

Of course, it isn't the first time he's cornered her about Regina.

And it won't be the last.

Regina pulls the blankets up in bed and picks up her book. It's late and she can't sleep, so she reads. Reads to escape everything. She looks over at Robin snoring away next to her and thanks the Gods for small favors. The last she wants is for him to wake up and try and be intimate with her. Especially after the night she just had.

Her eyes drift over to her cell phone on the nightstand. The screen is lit up and it means one of two things.

Henry is texting her to tell her goodnight, because he's still thrilled about the fact that she lets him keep his cell phone in his room at night.

Or…

Emma.

She leans over to pick up the phone and slides her finger over the screen. Emma Swan appears on her phone. She'll never change the contact to say Emma Jones. Never.

She touches the text and reads, I'm sorry about earlier.

Regina notices that she's holding her breath and lets it out slowly. She types out, It's okay. Did Hook wake up yet?

He's passed out again. Rough seas apparently. Enough to cause a man to drink, I guess.

There really isn't much that Regina can say to that, because she knows Emma and she knows she's embarrassed. And hurt. And honestly? Probably scared, but way too proud to ever admit that. So Regina settles on, Yes, I can imagine rough seas would make anyone drink.

She waits a couple seconds for a response, but before she gets one from Emma's end she types out, We should probably talk about what happened.

When she presses send, she finds herself holding her breath again. When Emma's text comes in, she reads it twice to make sure she's reading it right.

He told me he knows I have feelings for you. It's not the first time he's said it. And he's right, of course. But it hurt more this time than the other times.

In those moments that follow that text, Regina isn't really sure what she's doing.

Can you meet me at Henry's castle now? Regina types out the text so frantically it makes her realize she's not thinking clearly. Or maybe she is but she's so used to harnessing her heart and her soul to this sham of a happy ending that she forgot how it feels to be impulsive.

Regina sees a Yes flash across her screen before she lets go of the breath she feels like she's been holding for ten minutes. It takes everything in her to not fly out of bed and magic herself to Henry's old castle with just her pajamas on. She pulls herself together, though, and throws on a pair of faded blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and a pair of flip flops Emma made her buy. They're dreadful and she hates the way they look, but they are easy and a lot more comfortable than heels at 1 AM. She checks to make sure that Robin is still sleeping before she creeps out of the room and poof. Just like that, she's across town, sitting on the wooden deck of the castle, her legs hanging off the edge and swinging slightly with nerves.

She waits. And waits. And waits. It's a good 20 minutes before she sees a pair of headlights coming over the horizon. A small smile comes to her lips when she recognizes that it's the bug's headlights and then an even bigger smile comes to her lips because why didn't Emma just magic herself here?

When the car pulls into a parking spot and the engine turns off, Regina wonders if this is going to end like she's thought about a million times. And as Emma climbs out of the bug, baggy sweat pants, a zip-up hoodie and a ball cap on, Regina knows that it doesn't matter how it ends.

"Why didn't you just -"

"Magic myself here?" Emma asks with her lopsided grin as she approaches the castle. "I felt like being nostalgic."

Regina nods her head and places both of her hands on either side of her legs, leaning forward just a bit. "How's it feel?"

"The nostalgia? I gotta admit, it's a hell of a lot easier when I don't drive," Emma acknowledges with a laugh. She takes a few steps closer to Regina, and looks up into the brunette's eyes. "Were you waiting long?"

"Not really," Regina lies. "I like your hat." Emma's cheeks blush a deep red and Regina silently sends a thank you to the town that voted to put up lights at the playground. "It suits you."

Emma messes with the bill of the hat and then sheepishly looks back up at Regina. "I had bed head."

"That would also suit you," Regina says quietly, a small smile playing at her lips. She watches Emma smile and then glance around the playground. She has her hands shoved into the hoodie's pockets and if it wasn't such a warm night, she would have thought Emma was cold. "Should we talk?"

Emma takes a deep breath at that question and then looks down. She notices Regina's flip flops and a smile spreads across her face before she can even fight it. "I like your shoes," she says with a laugh. "They look really nice on you."

Regina raises a foot and nudges Emma with it. "I thought you'd like that."

"I do," Emma whispers. "I really do."

"Emma?"

She looks up at Regina and takes another step closer to the woman. She's almost between her legs now and it's so surreal that she's not really sure if she isn't dreaming. After all, it's late and she'd be lying if she tried to deny that shot of whiskey she took while Killian was in the shower. Emma watches as Regina reaches up, her fingers land on the bill of her ballcap and she adjusts it slightly. Emma's breath hitches in her throat when those fingers move, laying feather soft touches along her jawline and down her neck. Regina's hand stills right above Emma's heart and she swallows. "Yes?" Emma finally says, her mouth dry.

"What is going on?"

"I'm not sure," Emma answers. "I just…"

"I know."

"Do you?"

Regina smiles and reaches for Emma's hand. The blonde gives it over freely and Regina guides it to place right over her own heart. "This… this has been yours since the moment we defeated Zelena. Since the moment you put this back in my chest," Regina says with such emotion and love that it causes goosebumps on Emma's skin.

"I'm married… to Killian."

"I know."

"And you're with Robin. And you have Roland."

"I know."

"What do we do?"

Regina's eyes have filled with tears and it takes everything in her to hold them in. She shakes her head, saying she doesn't know without actually voicing it.

"Henry was right, wasn't he?" Emma asks even though she knows the answer to it already.

"He knows us, Miss Swan," Regina says with a smile, tears running down her cheeks. "We raised him too well."

"Why didn't we listen to him? Why did we think this was something that would go away?" Emma says softly. She knows the answer and she doesn't expect Regina to say anything. It was stupid of them both to think true love was anything other than magic. Emma leans forward, turns her head and rests it against Regina's chest. She can hear her heart beating, the soft thudding enough to make her knees weak. "We have to figure this out, Regina," Emma comments before she pulls away and looks back up into Regina's eyes.

"Yes, we do."

"It's going to change everything."

Regina smiles. She cocks her head to the side and says, "I thought you liked adventure?"

Emma laughs, a full laugh, something she hasn't done in awhile. "I do. You're right."

"Then?"

"We still have to figure this out… Okay?"

"Okay. But first…" Regina slides off of the deck and onto the ground in front of Emma. Their bodies are so close that the heat radiating off of them is almost ridiculous. Regina reaches forward and pushes Emma's ball cap up further and then, before Emma can say anything, she leans forward and places her lips on Emma's. She places her hands on either side of the blonde's face, strokes her thumbs over Emma's cheekbones and breathes in Emma's spice and lavender scent before she breaks away from the kiss. "I just needed to see how that felt."

Emma's eyes are still closed and there's a small smile on her face. "And?" she asks, still not opening her eyes and still trying to feel her feet.

"Just as good as I imagined."

Emma opens her eyes slowly, takes a deep breath, and smiles. She lets out a small laugh. "I agree. I completely agree," before leaning back in to capture those full lips between her own again.