By the time all was said and done at Whole Foods, Regina was feeling more anxious than ever.

The cart was brimming full of freshness and Emma was zipping around last minute picking up random spices, and throwing them in the cart. She was giving Regina random winks as she said things like, "You can never have too much cinnamon. Did you know it has tons of antioxidants?"

"No, I didn't know, and I don't like cinnamon … much," Regina insisted on maintaining her cranky demeanor no matter how hard Emma tried to get her to crack up and have fun.

They were only grocery shopping, which was about the most mundane chore you could think of it. It wasn't like a day at Disneyland, but still Emma brought this enthusiasm and infectious energy to every action she took. It was infuriating.

The cart load barely fit in Emma's car and when the last bag was packed in, Regina crawled in the passenger side, feeling zapped of strength and hungrier than ever. Emma jogged the cart back inside, because of course she would. It wasn't until she jumped in the driver's seat and closed the door that Regina noticed a paparazzo walking toward the car.

"Drive," she begged Emma smacking her thigh as she pulled on her sunhat and sunglasses.

"What's the rush?" Emma asked in confusion as she looked around. "Oh, hell no. That guy trying to take your picture?"

As if in response, he lifted his camera and started snapping away. Emma was out of the car in an instant.

"No, Emma…please, let's go," Regina's requests fell on deaf ears, this was going to get ugly. Those types loved to be hassled it would make for an even better story.

Regina closed her eyes and wished she'd stayed home in bed. She weighed her options: get out of the car and go stop Emma from whatever she was saying to the photographer or stay inside the car and keep herself as hidden as possible.

She strained to hear what was being said between Emma and the guy, but couldn't make out the words from across the parking lot. Emma looked intimidating and perhaps like she was trying to make the guy hand over his camera. It was embarrassing at the least, but Regina felt compelled to stop it before someone called the cops.

In haste, she got out of the car and stalked across the lot, moving fast despite her sore muscles. Without thought she placed her hand on Emma's forearm and said quietly, "Emma, let's go."

"But this guy wants to sell your picture…and my picture," Emma argued, never taking her eyes from the paparazzo, who was now wearing a sleazy grin as he held up his camera and snapped a close up of both women.

"Great, sell it. I don't care, I just want to get out of here," Regina had been through this before, and unfortunately there wasn't much that could be done at this point.

She squeezed Emma's forearm harder and dug in her sharp fingernails until she was sure Emma could get the hint.

"Geez, okay…ouch, I think you drew blood," Emma winced and glared at the guy once more as they started to walk away.

"Regina, can you tell your fans what you're doing with this woman? Is she a friend of yours?" The paparazzo called after her, trying to get more of a story.

Regina ignored it, but Emma couldn't help herself, "Hey, you only want her picture? Come on, I was on Doctor Oz six times!"

The paparazzo shrugged from behind his lens, "Sorry, I don't watch Doctor Oz…"

Once back in the car, and safely on the interstate, Regina let her anger loose, "Do you even realize what you've done?"

"I was trying to stop that guy from taking our picture…I'm a bit bummed he didn't recognize me. I mean I was a professional volley ball player for sixteen years."

"A word of advice, if you want to call yourself a 'Celebrity trainer' you should probably try to train some celebrities," Regina said bitterly.

"I'm training you… I'm working on my first book. Every celebrity trainer needs to put out a book," Emma said more as if to convince herself she was doing the right thing.

"Yeah, but you're no Jillian Michaels…"

"She's my idol," Emma grinned at the mention of her name.

Biting her tongue so she wouldn't laugh and ruin her chance to tear Emma apart, she tried to take a deep breath, "I usually don't go out for my own groceries or in public much because in this town there is always a creepy paparazzo and the publications that buy from them always make up whatever they want about me. It's never anything good. They'll probably make shit up about you now too."

"You mean once they figure out who I even am?" Emma was clenching the steering wheel with a death grip.

Regina was desperate to change the subject, as she realized how right Emma had been when she stated earlier that she didn't have the freedom to do what she wanted. "I'm so hungry, and it's your fault."

"How is it my fault? In case you didn't notice my car is stuffed to gills with food for you to eat."

"You ripped that egg McMuffin right out of my hands and smashed it!"

"You'll thank me…someday. Unless you plan to murder me," Emma teased as she pulled up in Regina's driveway to unload the groceries.

"I don't have the energy to murder you right now, let's talk after lunch."

...

Emma hauled the groceries in while Regina lazily carried one bag, and pointed toward the kitchen so the other woman could unload them.

"My assistant usually does this for me," Regina admitted, not intending to sound like a Queen, but Emma gave her a look anyway.

"Your fridge is empty, your cupboards are bare," she was checking through all of Regina's cupboards and looking in her pantry. "It looks like your assistant is terrible at keeping you stocked up. Tell me where you hide your junk food."

Regina sat down at her kitchen island and looked amongst the bags of food littering her counters, "I told Sidney not to buy any food because I have to lose weight for the movie, and I don't have a stash of junk food, I swear."

Emma slid her hands into the pockets of her sweat pants and casually leaned against the counter, "Now that you have food, will you promise me that you'll eat and stay on my meal plan?"

It was a simple question, but it made Regina feel oddly emotional. Her first memory of her mother telling her she couldn't eat was when she was out on a commercial shoot. The ad was for cookies, and the scene was very simple. A bunch of kids ran into a kitchen everyone grabbed for a chocolate chip cookie to eat. Every take of the long day of shooting the prop masters would bring out a new tray of hot, gooey chocolate cookies and put them out on the table.

Regina's mother was strict with diet even from the age of seven. She was only allowed to take one small bite for the camera and then spit it out after the take. It was much like her life, she mused inwardly: always biting into the cookie and getting a taste, but not swallowing had left her constantly unsatisfied and craving more.

No one had ever told her she needed to eat.

"I'll do what I can," she dismissed Emma's question with a non-committal wave of her hand, but Emma was already loading the fridge with vegetables, and holding back ingredients to make a salad.

"Lean protein, lots of green vegetables and a little bit of fat. I want all your carbs coming from healthy sources like whole grains and berries. If you stick to this, I promise you will look sexy for your movie, but will also have loads of energy to work out."

Regina swallowed and nodded. She also was not good at trusting or letting someone have control over her something as intimate as what she ate and what she did with her body.

"I will try," she confirmed again as Emma grabbed a big bowl and filled it with crisp romaine.

"Great! I am writing a book, and I'd love to include a feature section on you as a success story."

"You can discuss that with my agent," Regina laughed as she had a realization. Of course, it was obvious, and she felt foolish for not recognizing this arrangement for what it was. Everybody wanted something from her and Emma was no different. She didn't care about Regina's wellbeing in so much as she cared about her precious diet book. Immediately, her rebellious streak kicked in and she contemplated self-sabotage as an 'F you' to Emma's alternate motives.

That would naturally backfire, Regina would probably still be featured in the book, but as a sad failure. Emma would probably write a whole chapter as a cautionary tale about what happens when her clients don't follow her plan. She felt trapped either way.

Emma's voice interrupted her from her dark thoughts, "Do you want to help me here? I'm not getting paid to be your personal chef, lady."

"Yet you're getting paid to boss me around in every aspect of my life," Regina replied bitterly.

"Whoa, I was just thinking you could start boiling some eggs, but if that's how you feel just sit there looking like I kicked your puppy and wait for me to serve you, your majesty."

"Ouch," Regina said dripping sarcasm as she lifted her eyebrow, paying close attention as she watched Emma chop vegetable like a pro. It was kind of refreshing to have someone in her home who wasn't afraid of her and she'd already tried firing Emma, it didn't seem to work.

She didn't have many friends, and the ones she did have were cutthroat actresses were so vain they hardly noticed anyone else, unless Regina was competing for a part or whatever was deemed a threat. Then it was drama all day.

"What should I tell my publicist about you when those pictures surface?" She switched topics and shifted on her stool.

"What about me? We already established you're the star, he wasn't tipped off about me," Emma stopped chopping and turned around to look at her.

"In that regard you're lucky. People believe what they read and if I lose popularity it will be harder for me to get cast," it had happened to her before. She'd been linked to a co-star and the gossip rags sunk their teeth in and invented a relationship between Regina and this much older man. When he got caught in a hotel room with a gaggle of hookers and a ton of cocaine, it wasn't him who was demonized in the press: it was Regina. The spin was that she was such a horrible bitch she'd driven her poor boyfriend to drugs and sex outside the relationship, just to cope.

It was all a bunch of bullshit, Regina had barely spoken to the man unless the words were in the script, but that didn't make any difference to US Weekly.

"Nah, you were just shopping at Whole Foods with your awesome personal trainer. I don't think there's much of a story to tell, unless they want to say something about your outfit," Emma stirred up the salad, added a little more dressing and placed a generous amount on a plate, presenting it to her to eat.

Regina looked it over, it had peppers and sunflower seeds, and avocado, "Finally, I've been sitting her hungry for what feels like forever."

"Then eat. I'll peel you an egg as soon as they're ready. Like I said, healthy proteins and fats," Emma was watching her expectantly. Regina felt self-conscious, but not any more than she had when they'd worked out the day before.

She took a bite; it tasted great, but anything would at this point being that she was so hungry. Not letting on that she enjoyed it, just so Emma wouldn't get the satisfaction she took another bite and chewed and swallowed.

She paused and returned to what they were talking about, "You'll be noticed and there will be comments. People will recognize you from Dr. Oz, but a word from the wise, you might not like what people will say. I wouldn't hitch your horse to my star…that's all."

"Regina, I know what it's like to have fans. I was a professional beach volleyball player for years. An Olympic qualifier even, but after I blew out my shoulder…at first, I thought it was only a setback, but soon I realized my career was over. It sucked."

She had been far too busy with her own career to pay attention to the sports world, but Regina could see the similarities.

"I can imagine," she said, hurriedly taking a bite to avoid any questions Emma might ask that she didn't want to answer.

"I got kind of depressed, watched my endorsement deals evaporate. Volleyball was my whole life. Like it was all I knew how to do, and I thought my life was over all because I couldn't play anymore."

"What did you do?" Regina leaned forward and asked softly, she locked Emma's eyes with her own and found she was genuinely upset to see the raw pain in the depths of sea green.

"Nothing. I let life pass me by," Emma hunched her shoulders and shifted uncomfortably, averting Regina's gaze. "I felt like my body had betrayed me," she let out an audible breath, "my moneymaker."

Indeed, Emma did have a very nice 'money maker', but Regina wouldn't give her the satisfaction of saying so. "This salad is really good as far as salads go," she offered in consolation.

"Thanks, as long as you eat and train. We'll be the best of friends, don't' worry," Emma said to lighten the mood, but Regina could hardly picture them as friends.

She didn't mean to, but she was so curious about Emma's past she kept pushing, "But how did you get over it? I can hardly imagine you all depressed and low."

"I was. It took a long time. I was a fat kid by the way. My house was always filled with cheap processed snacks and I never ate actual meals, just sugary junk throughout my childhood. Not that you need to know that," Emma looked embarrassed and vulnerable, and Regina blinked wondering why she was being so open.

"But when I started high school my mom forced me to go out for sports and it turned out I had a hell of a talent for volleyball. I got obsessed… lost the weight, trained hard, and I finally saw opportunities open up for me."

"So, when you got injured it was very difficult to figure out what you wanted to do next?"

"Yeah, you could say that. I went back to school for a while, but it was too hard after being out of academia for so long. Then I got into sports medicine. I was still trying to find a magic cure for my bum shoulder. I wanted my serving power back, and while I did see improvement, it will never be what it was. But that's how it is, I guess."

"Everybody has her day in the sun," Regina mused cryptically, as she finished her salad. She happened to look up to the clock on the kitchen wall and a sense of panic rose in her. She needed to leave immediately to meet Director Gold for her production meeting. "Shit, I need to go. Next time you come over call first so I can make an appointment. You've wasted half my day."

"Wow," Emma blinked rapidly, she looked hurt, and Regina cringed at how insensitive she had been.

"I'm sorry," she managed, the words foreign on her tongue. She wasn't one to apologize, ever. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You didn't waste my day…"

"Tomorrow, do some light cardio, and make the salmon and vegetables in the fridge for dinner. I'll get out of here," Emma walked over to the stove and turned off the boiling eggs. She drained them in the sink and ran cool water over the batch until she could pluck one out to peel off the shell. "Here, eat this. Yum, yum."

At least she didn't hand feed her, Regina mused as she was left alone standing in her mess of a kitchen holding a hardboiled egg.

…

It had been a mad dash across town to get to Gold's office, and she ended up being a few minutes late. This would have been bad, but Gold was tied up in another meeting so his brunette assistant, Belle, politely told her to wait. She caught her breath for a moment and tried to push down thoughts of the previous events of the day with Emma.

She had not been told what the meeting today was about so she assumed she hadn't needed to prepare anything. It was probably just a routine pre-production meeting to give her information about the shoot.

After a few minutes of waiting, Regina heard a familiar laugh. It set the hair on the back of her neck on edge, it was none other than one of her 'friends' a fellow actress, who ran in the same circles as Regina, and they were always competing at casting calls, despite looking almost nothing alike. Maleficent was taller and blonde, but on any open casting thing she'd always be there alongside Regina.

"Oh, Regina," Maleficent spotted her as she stood up in the waiting room and moved to give her a faux hug and air kisses. "How funny meeting you here."

"Maleficent," Regina kept her gaze. She wanted to ask what the hell she was doing meeting with Gold, but it was none of her business. "I'd love to catch up, but I wouldn't want to keep my director waiting."

"Ta ta, Regina, lunch soon? Call me," Maleficent said as an afterthought as she nodded with a smile to Belle and stalked out of the office back into the sun.

Regina shook off the encounter as Belle took her down the hallway to Gold's office. The guy was a well-respected director, but such a pack rat. He was very proud of his big collection of oddities. It all looked like old junk to Regina, and he had way too much of it shoved into his office. Creepy marionettes and baby mobiles hung from the ceiling while every available surface of his desk and end tables was covered: globes, paperweights, old pens…

The wood paneled walls weren't safe from the décor either, he had old swords and weird shields and weapons hung up all around. She let her eyes adjust to dim yellow light stemming from the sole desk lamp on his desk. In Los Angeles, everything felt far too bright and sparkly all the time, but stepping into Gold's office was like stepping back into the dark ages.

"Aww, there's my star, Regina Mills, come sit down. We have much to discuss," Gold stood and greeted her in his smarmy way and then sat behind his big wooden desk amongst his trinkets with his hands clasped in front of him.

"Gold, always a pleasure, what can I do for you today?" Regina said with a bright fake smile. She was an actress after all, and most of her talent was dedicated to faking that she enjoyed meetings like this.

"Well, I'm so glad you asked… there's been some concern about you in the role of the governess."

"Concern?" Regina was confused.

"Nothing to worry about, dear. Some of the financial backers just need to be sure that you're the right choice. There's been some squabbling about your level of commitment."

"Oh? I can assure you, no one is more dedicated to the film than I am. I already have my lines memorized, and I know the character inside and out."

"That's very good to hear. And you've started training with Ms. Swan?"

"Yes, I was just with her," Regina tried not to show her confusion. Where was this concern coming from? And why now?

"Very good," Gold was staring at her with a cold expression that sent chills down Regina's back. "You do know Maleficent? I'm sure you saw her on your way in."

"Yes, but what does she have to do with-?" Regina cut herself off and steeled her gaze.

"Maleficent and I were just discussing her level of dedication. There's been some discussion that a blonde governess might be better suited for the film. I guess what I need from you, Regina, is to show me some dedication so I can convince the board that you're the right choice."

"Excuse me? Are you saying that you might recast Maleficent as the governess and fire me?"

"No, no, that's not what's happening as long as you can show me some… progress."

"How?"

"For starters, why don't you take off your clothes so I can see that body of yours?"

…