Chapter two

The table by the window was Emma's favourite one in Granny's. When she sat with her back to the rest of the diner, she could see the full length of Main Street through the glass, from City Hall all the way down one end to the very edge of Henry's school building at the other. When she sat in the booth, with her back to the window, she could watch the daily comings and goings of Storybrooke's residents as they traipsed into Granny's for their morning coffee. It seemed that most of the interesting occurrences that took place in the town seemed to happen within Granny's four walls, and Emma liked to be there for it.

That morning, she had chosen the latter seat. The Storybrooke Mirror was open on the table in front of her and there was a mug of hot chocolate clasped in her left hand. Any time the door chimed she glanced up automatically, waiting for someone to walk over to her table. A specific someone. But every person who entered walked straight past her without even a glance her way.

She sighed and looked back down at her newspaper. It had been nearly a week since she had gone to the graveyard with Regina, and they hadn't spoken since. Or rather, Emma had been endlessly trying to force some kind of conversation between them, but every attempt had been met with a frosty silence. Asking Regina to shout out a code word when she brought Henry home was indisputably off-limits. Now, after several days of trying, Emma just let her son into the mayor's house and quietly shut the door behind him.

Emma swallowed, and as the door chimed once more, she forced herself not to look up. Sure enough, whoever had walked in went straight to the counter, not stopping to talk to her.

She pulled her cell out of her pocket and checked for messages, tapping her short nails against the screen when she saw there weren't any waiting for her.

Or, more accurately, there was one message. But it was from Hook.

Are you alright love? Can I come by the station today?

He was asking because it was nearly lunchtime and she was meant to be at the station already, but for some reason she hadn't managed to drag herself there yet. She blinked down at his message a few more times, wondering why she was finding it so difficult to think of a response, when the door chimed again. After a moment, a figure appeared at her table.

She lifted her head, Hook's message now entirely forgotten, and found Regina stood in front of her.

She opened her mouth to say something, faltering immediately. Something was different: Regina was wearing one of her normal pantsuits and her hair was shiny and skimming over the tops of her shoulders. The tips of her fingers were resting on the edge of the table, equal parts uncomfortable and poised. But something wasn't right.

And then she realised. It wasn't Regina.

Forcing herself not to laugh, Emma smiled up at her, trying to look pleasantly surprised. "Regina."

"Miss Swan," the queen said, and Emma could see that the make-up around her eyes was too dark, too gaudy. Regina hadn't worn hers like that for years, and she certainly wasn't in the right frame of mind to be trying out new styles right then. She'd barely gotten properly dressed in the last two weeks. "May I sit down?"

Emma bit at the inside of her cheek, looking back down at the newspaper in front of her. "Sure."

The queen slid into the chair opposite her and crossed her legs under the table. Her posture was straight as a rod, but her hands, which were resting on top of the table, were twitching nervously. Emma had to hand it to her – she'd done her research.

"What can I do for you?" Emma asked, still not looking up. She heard the queen clear her throat.

"I wanted to apologise."

"For what?"

"For… overreacting. At the cemetery. It wasn't your fault that the Evil Queen started trying to play tricks on us."

After a long pause, Emma said casually, "She certainly does like her tricks."

"She does," the queen said, peering down at the article that Emma was pretending to read. The fact that she didn't have the sheriff's undivided attention was already infuriating her, to the extent that Emma could feel the impatience burning from her fidgeting fingers. It only made the urge to laugh even more difficult to suppress.

The queen sighed, and continued, "We need to decide how we're going to get rid of her."

"I couldn't agree more," Emma said flatly. "Is this supposed to be news?"

"No, of course not. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of the urgency."

"You know I am. It's why I've been helping you all this time."

"I know," she said. "I appreciate that. You… you have been a good friend, Emma."

"Thanks," Emma said, her voice expressionless. She looked up to find the queen watching her expectantly.

"I mean it," the queen said, and she reached across the table like she was going to take Emma's hand. "I really do appreciate everything you've done."

Emma looked down at her outstretched hand and, with the faintest of laughs, went back to her newspaper. "Nice try, your majesty."

The queen blinked. "What?"

"It was a good idea," Emma said, shrugging. "And you very nearly pulled it off. But I could tell from the second you walked in that you weren't Regina."

There was a pause as the queen tried to decide whether it was worth maintaining her ruse or not. Then she pulled her hand back with a groan.

"How did you know?"

"I'm not sure you want to hear the entire list," Emma said, but she gestured towards the queen's face with her index finger. "But the make-up is wrong. Regina doesn't wear it that dark."

She continued looking down at the article that she hadn't read a single word of, but she could sense that a satisfied smirk had started spreading across the queen's face.

"It seems I underestimated you."

Emma shrugged. "Not really. You were pretty convincing."

"You just know Regina better than I thought."

Emma lifted her eyes and offered the queen a perfunctory smile. "I guess so."

"I'm sure she's delighted to have found such a loyal friend."

"Regina is delighted about next to nothing," Emma said, finally folding the newspaper shut. "But yes, I think she's grateful to have me. Does that put me in some kind of danger, your majesty?"

The queen smirked. "Not from me. But from her – almost certainly."

Emma rolled her eyes and leaned forward against the table.

"She may be mad at me right now, but she wouldn't hurt me," she said. She paused before adding, "You were a real asshole in the cemetery the other day, by the way. Thanks for that."

To her surprise, the queen burst out laughing.

"An asshole?" she asked. "That's how you're choosing to describe me?"

Against all her good sense, Emma felt herself smiling back. "It seems fitting."

"No one has ever called me that before," the queen mused, settling back in her chair. She looked more like Regina than she ever had done before, but there was a wicked spark in her eye that had long softened in the mayor's. A small part of Emma had missed it. "Generally people use much harsher terms when they're referring to me."

"I'm sure that's probably true. But you didn't do anything particularly evil in the graveyard – you were just a dick."

The queen laughed again. She had pushed her chair back from the table, and Emma could see her long, crossed legs. The sight of them always made Emma's throat dry out.

Once her laughter had died down again, the queen paused, allowing herself a moment to eye up the sheriff.

"You aren't afraid of me."

Emma smiled. "No. I'm not."

"That's a mistake," she replied, looping one arm over the back of her chair. "You've gotten too used to being around Regina. I'm the Evil Queen, remember."

"Yes, you are," Emma said, crossing her arms over her chest. "And I'm the saviour. And a former Dark One – I like to think my chances are pretty good."

A reluctant smile flickered across the queen's face. Emma recognised it from the cemetery – it was one was told her that against all odds, the queen was slightly impressed by her.

"You were right," she said softly. "You really are no princess."

And it was strange, but Emma took it as a compliment. She smiled more genuinely this time, glancing back down at the table. "Not by a long shot."

"Were you ever scared of Regina?"

Emma raised one eyebrow. "Whatever information you're hoping to get out of me, it's not going to happen. I think we've established that, against all odds, I'm smarter than that."

"I'm not trying to get anything out of you, dear – I'm trying to have a conversation," the queen said.

Emma narrowed her eyes at her. With Regina, she could always tell when she was lying, or trying to trick her. With the queen it wasn't quite so easy.

But still, she heard herself saying, "No, not really. And that didn't go down so well with Regina when we first met."

"She didn't like you?"

Emma laughed. "You could say that."

"But you liked her?"

"No," Emma said, still watching the queen carefully. "For my first year in this town, we locked horns on a daily basis. But a lot has changed since then – Regina has changed. She's different now."

"She's weak," the queen said plainly. But Emma shook her head.

"No," she said, and the firmness of her voice surprised them both. "She's not. She's been from darkness to light and back again a hundred times, but she's in a good place now and she got there all by herself. She is easily tempted and really easy to piss off, but she's strong, and she's a good person under it all. That's why I was never afraid of her, and that's why I'm not scared of you either."

The queen's eyebrows shot up. "You think I'm a good person, deep down?"

Emma shrugged, still smiling. "You have potential."

"Well," the queen said, and the disgust in her voice was evident. "This is the first time I've really had proof that you are Snow White's child. I'm a little disappointed."

"Somehow your disappointment doesn't cut me quite as deep as you might think it would."

And just like that, the queen was laughing again.

"You know," she admitted, "I can see why Regina took a shine to you."

She watched Emma's face closely as she said this, hoping to see a blush of pleasure in her cheeks. But Emma's expression remained placid, and she smiled at the queen's disappointment.

"Regina never took a shine to me," Emma said, tugging her hot chocolate towards her. "She'd probably kill you just for suggesting that."

"Oh, she'd kill me for a lot less. But not you. She must care for you in some way."

"No, she's just not that kind of person anymore. I told you – she's put all that behind her."

She was expecting a catty remark to be tossed her way, but the queen suddenly fell silent. Emma looked up in surprise.

The queen was looking at her with a strange gentleness around her dark eyes. She eyed Emma up and down once more, like she was checking that she was a real person after all.

"You certainly have a lot of faith in her."

And Emma heard the tone in her voice all too clearly – it was the same one she'd used at the cemetery, moments before she unfroze Regina and opened up a can of worms that Emma would never be able to close.

Emma rolled her eyes. "You really have gotten the wrong end of the stick."

"Have I?" the queen asked, raising her eyebrows coyly.

"Yes," Emma said. "We are friends – barely even that sometimes. Regina puts up with me because I force her to, and that's all there is to it."

The queen smirked. "You're not as defensive as you were last time. You've had some time to practice your argument."

"Or you just didn't catch me by surprise with your quite frankly stupid insinuations this time," Emma said.

"Did you tell Regina?"

"Tell her what?"

"Tell her what I suggested you might be feeling about her."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Why would I tell her that?"

"I have no idea," the queen said quietly, her lips curving upwards. "But I know exactly why you wouldn't."

Her smirk was infuriating and intoxicating in equal measure, and as much as she wanted to snap back at her, Emma found that she couldn't. She opened her mouth to respond – to shut her down as wittily as she possibly could – when suddenly the crash of the diner door opening interrupted them both.

"Emma!"

Emma blinked and turned to look at the door. Regina was there – the real Regina – wearing a pantsuit not too dissimilar to the queen's and an expression of absolute terror on her face.

"Emma," she gasped, pointing to the queen. "That's not— she's tricked you."

"I know," Emma said as quickly as she could, trying to offer Regina a reassuring smile. "It's okay. I know."

But Regina wasn't even looking at her, much less paying attention to what Emma was saying. Her face was white and her wide eyes were fixed on the queen.

"What did you do?" Regina spat at her. All eyes in the diner were now looking towards their table and Emma groaned, forcing herself not to slump down in her chair.

"She didn't do anything," Emma hissed, hoping Regina would take the hint and match her volume. "Regina. I knew it wasn't you from the second she walked in the door."

Regina opened her mouth to argue, and then slowly closed it. "You did?"

The queen folded her arms over her chest and smirked up at her. "It's true. It seems that the saviour knows you quite well, Regina. Almost intimately well. Is that reassuring for you?"

Emma watched as Regina's nostrils flared.

"Yes," she replied through gritted teeth. "I am overjoyed at this news. What are you even doing in here?"

The queen blinked like this was the most ridiculous question she'd ever heard.

"Well, I'm enjoying a chat with Miss Swan here," she said, gesturing across the table with a smile. "I was also just about to try one of these famous grilled cheese sandwiches that I've heard so much about. Would you like one too?"

Emma laughed – she couldn't help herself. "She doesn't like them."

"She doesn't?"

"Emma," Regina snapped, thrusting her hands into the pockets of her blazer.

"What?" Emma replied, slumping back in her chair. "You don't. You said they give you heartburn."

"Yes, I told you that – why do you think it's important for her to know?"

"Oh, I am sorry, Regina – I forgot that she might use this key information to bring the entire town down. Good thing I didn't tell her about your complete aversion to Gilmore Girls or we might have had an apocalypse on our hands."

The queen's eyes followed their interaction like she was watching a tennis match, and with every passing insult her smirk grew a little wider. She settled back in her chair, ready to watch more of the show, but Regina suddenly turned to her and snapped, "You need to go."

The queen raised her eyebrows. "From the diner, or the town?"

"Well, the latter would be preferable, but I'm assuming you're not about to oblige."

"You would be right," the queen said, before she stretched out her arms with a sigh. "But sadly, you are right – I should probably get back to my vault."

"My vault."

"Finder's keepers, dear," the queen said, standing up to face Regina. They were the same height, same build, with the same look of flushed anticipation on their faces – but the differences between them were striking to Emma. She could see the softer lines around Regina's eyes, and the confident pout of the queen's mouth. She stayed in her booth and stared up at them both, her pulse suddenly pounding a little harder.

The queen looked back towards her with a smile. "I should leave now, Emma. But I expect I shall see you again very soon."

And even though she could feel Regina's furious stare on her, Emma offered her a faint smile in return. "I imagine you probably will."

With a satisfied glance at Regina, the queen swept out of the door. She disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke the second she was over the threshold.

The diner fell into silence, all eyes still on the table by the window. Regina stood at Emma's side, practically vibrating with rage, and Emma could see how close she was to snapping. She swallowed.

Regina suddenly turned to the rest of the room and barked, "Do you mind?!"

As the other diners reluctantly started to talk amongst themselves once more, Regina slid into the seat that had only recently been vacated by her other half. She shuddered when she realised it was still warm.

"What the hell are you trying to do?" she hissed at Emma, leaning as far across the table as her small frame would allow her. "Is this some kind of game to you?"

"I wasn't doing anything," Emma said. "She came in here and sat down with me. I knew it wasn't you, and I didn't tell her anything useful. We just talked. There's nothing to panic about."

"There is plenty to panic about!" Regina shrieked, causing several people to look round at her once more. "You can't keep encouraging her like this! Emma, she isn't me – she is a terrible, vile person. She will kill you without thinking given half the chance."

"Regina, she's had plenty of chances," Emma said gently. "She isn't trying anything. To be perfectly honest, she's being way nicer to me than you are at the moment."

"Well, I'm sorry that my current behaviour doesn't live up to your expectations, but one of us has to focus on trying to get rid of her again, rather than inviting her out for grilled cheeses."

"I've been helping you as much as I can," Emma said. "But I don't see the point in tiptoeing around town being terrified of her."

"The point is that she's the Evil Queen."

"And so were you, once upon a time, but look at you now – you're more of a hero than I am," Emma said. For a split second, Regina's anger ebbed away as she absorbed those words. The contented blush that began to prickle at her own cheeks made her want to vomit. "I'm starting to think that this Evil Queen title is just a load of bullshit – you've never seemed very evil to me, and neither does she."

And just like that, Regina's rage returned to her. "She's tricking you."

"Maybe she's trying to," Emma said, shrugging. "But that doesn't mean she's going to succeed."

"Right," Regina drawled. "Because your wit and intelligence do tend to wow us all on a daily basis."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "Like I said. At least she's being nice to me at the moment."

"Emma," Regina sighed, running her hands through her hair. "Please. You have to stop this. If you keep encouraging her, she'll keep coming for you. For us."

Emma's heart leapt at the final word, but she forced it back down. "Look – I won't go after her. I promise you that. But if she comes to talk to me, what's the point in pushing her away? Surely making her mad isn't going to help anything."

She had a point, and Regina knew it, but rather than admit it she just sat back silently, chewing on her lower lip.

But I'm scared for you.

She thought the words, but it would have taken someone a great deal more intimidating that the Evil Queen to be able to drag them out of her.

"Fine," Regina sighed, pushing her chair back. "If your death wish really is that strong, then on your head be it. Just keep me updated. And keep Henry out of this."

"I promise. I haven't even mentioned him to her."

Regina nodded. "Good."

She turned to leave, then, with a sigh, added, "Thank you."

"No problem," Emma responded, but Regina was already out of the door. Emma watched as she paused on the top step, in the exact same spot that the queen has disappeared from only minutes before, looking down at her feet like she was tempted to let them lead her back inside. But then she straightened her back, lifted her head up, and walked off down the street without stopping.

"All I'm saying is, you could have replied."

Emma forced herself not to sigh. It was the fifth time Hook had said those same words since he'd caught her leaving the sheriff station that evening, and she still wasn't sure how she was supposed to respond.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I told you – I was replying, and then the queen walked in. I was a bit distracted after that."

"Too distracted to want to see me?" Hook asked, and the hurt in his voice was grating. Emma swallowed, tightening her grip on the crook of his elbow.

"I'm sorry," she said yet again. "But I'm here now."

"I suppose," he muttered, and they continued walking in silence for the next few moments. Then he asked, "So what happened with her?"

"Not a lot," Emma said, trying to laugh. "We actually just talked. She's a nut job, but she's not as bad as everyone says she is."

Hook scoffed. "You need to stay away from her."

"You sound like Regina."

"And do you plan on listening to either one of us?"

"I told Regina I wouldn't go looking for her," Emma muttered. "But I'm not going to deliberately antagonise her by telling her to go and screw herself any time she comes around. There's no point in doing that when she hasn't done anything to hurt me."

She waited, expecting Hook to tell her she was crazy and that she needed to find a way to get rid of the queen altogether. But instead he stopped walking, pulling her to a halt alongside him, and said, "You promised Regina that, but you wouldn't promise me?"

"Killian," Emma groaned. "You haven't even asked."

"Because I haven't been able to get near you for days," he said, prising her fingers away from his arm. "But you'll go by Regina's to make her lunch every afternoon or you'll hang out with her evil twin in the town diner where everyone can see you. What am I supposed to make of that?"

Emma couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips. "I've got a lot on my plate at the moment. I just need you to be patient."

"You always need me to be patient," he scoffed.

Emma looked up at him, a quiver of annoyance starting to build in her stomach, and opened her mouth to respond. As she did, a flurry of purple smoke appeared behind Hook's shoulder.

"I can't imagine why," the queen said as she materialised. "You seem to be such an understanding person."

Hook spun around so quickly that he missed Emma's faint smile. Faced with the Evil Queen, he scowled. "Your majesty."

"Captain," she replied, looking him up and down. Emma saw the predatory expression in her eyes and she automatically stepped forward, her stomach tightening – but as quickly as it had come, the queen's interest in him evaporated. She took in his grungy leather and fainting clinking necklaces and rolled her eyes.

"Like I said," she drawled, looking over at Emma. "We've all been there."

Hook's head whipped back round to look at his girlfriend. "What? Been where?"

"Don't worry about it, dear," the queen said, gliding towards them. As she moved closer, Emma caught sight of what she was wearing: it was a long, tightly fitting dress made of black velvet. Her hair was pinned as high as ever and her lips were a dark, fierce purple colour. As she moved towards Emma, her dress trailing along behind her in a delicate train, she winked at the blonde woman.

"What are you doing here?" Hook snapped. The queen immediately turned back to him, her face going cold.

"I'm here to speak to Emma."

"Well, you can't," he replied, moving to Emma's side and clamping his arm around her shoulders. "So you should leave now."

A cruel sneer twisted at the queen's features, one that Emma hadn't had directed at her yet. In that moment she finally saw the woman that everyone else feared, and she felt something clutch tightly at her heart.

"A good idea," the queen said, and the casualness of her tone screamed like a siren. She paused like she'd suddenly had a brainwave. "Or, maybe, you should leave instead."

"I'm not going anywhere," Hook growled. Emma could feel the sharp point of his hook digging into her arm.

"Incorrect, captain," the queen replied. The second that he opened his mouth to snap back at her, she lifted one hand and flicked it through the air. Emma felt a cold blast of wind brush against her right side, and when she looked around, Hook was gone.

She turned to look at the queen with a sigh. "What did you do now?"

"I disposed of him."

Emma let out a strangled noise. "You killed him?!"

"Don't be ridiculous," the queen said, surprising Emma by how offended she sounded. "As enjoyable as that would be for me, I'm well aware that you wouldn't take too kindly to it. Although why you choose to spend time in his company I have no idea. No, I just sent him off into the forest – something tells me it will be a while before he manages to find his way out of there."

In spite of herself, Emma could feel her mouth quirking upwards at the thought. Folding her arms over her chest, she asked, "And why did you want to get rid of him?"

"So I could talk to you, of course."

"We talked this morning," Emma said. "And I got in enough trouble for that."

"From whom?"

"Just about everyone," Emma replied. "I've been warned to stay away from you. I'm starting to think maybe they all have a point."

"Why is that, Miss Swan?" the queen asked, edging closer to her. The sun was setting down the other end of Main Street, and in the darkening orange light Emma could see an unfamiliar softness to her expression. "Are you worried you'll be overcome by my wicked charms?"

Emma laughed, rolling her eyes. "Sure. Something like that."

Without discussing it, they both began walking again, taking the same path that Emma and Hook had been on before the queen had arrived. The two women didn't link arms, but the queen walked close enough to her side that Emma could feel the brush of her long sleeve against the tip of her little finger. The evening suddenly felt cooler.

"So," the queen said, her eyes looking straight ahead. "The pirate?"

"What about him?"

"Bit of an odd choice, wouldn't you say?"

"Why?" Emma frowned. "He's a good guy."

The queen scoffed. "He's a baby, and a criminal. He won't treat you well."

"He does treat me well."

"Maybe for now, but it won't last forever," the queen said in that quiet voice that always surprised Emma. "No matter who they pretend to be, people always go back to their roots eventually. He'll get bored here, and he'll get tired of pretending to be good."

Emma frowned at her. "Is this your convoluted way of telling me to stop being friends with Regina?"

"Actually, no," the queen said. "This is genuine advice that you can do better than a lecherous pirate."

Emma narrowed her eyes. A familiar irritation plucked at her stomach, but it wasn't quite as strong as it should have been. Beneath it, something else was brewing – a sick sense of unease that made her want to double over. It was the same feeling that tried desperately hard to resurface any time Emma thought – really thought – about her future with Hook.

As the silence stretched out, the queen looked round at her. "Did I touch a nerve?"

"Of course you did," Emma snapped, pushing those sick feelings back down to where they belonged. "You don't just get to walk around insulting my boyfriend whenever you feel like it."

"You don't seem to be doing much to stop me," the queen said. Emma rolled her eyes.

"Nothing I do would stop you," she muttered. "Why waste my breath?"

"Because I so enjoy hearing you try."

Emma shot her another withering look. "Very cute, your majesty."

"Well, what can I say," she replied, gesturing down at herself. "I know what your type is – I might as well use it to my advantage."

Without looking round at her, Emma said, "I do not like Regina."

"Not convincing. Try again."

"I don't have to prove anything to you," Emma snapped, and immediately the queen chuckled.

"No, you don't," she admitted. "And yet here you are, walking with me, not telling me to leave you alone."

Emma's whole body heaved with an irritated sigh. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Back to that charming diner from this morning," the queen said, gesturing to where Granny's was just visible down the street.

"Hoping to finally try that grilled cheese?"

"Not quite," the queen said, taking Emma's elbow and steering her across the road. "When we were there earlier, I noticed that they served liquor."

There was a pause before Emma asked, with the hopefulness in her voice almost endearingly apparent, "You want to go and get a drink with me?"

"I do," the queen said, turning to assess her. "I take it you're not opposed to the idea?"

"I will never turn down a drink," Emma said, quickening her pace to match the queen's. "Even if it is with you."

The queen laughed. They continued walking towards the diner, and after a moment Emma realised that the queen had linked their arms together. She hadn't even felt it happen.

She paused, wondering if she should disentangle herself, but then the queen said something to her – something charming and witty – and if anything, Emma only found herself moving closer to her.

Across the street, pushing a stroller with a crying baby in it, Snow White watched them walk away from her.

She had been stood in the same spot for a while. When Emma had been talking with Hook, she had been tempted to go over and say hello to them both. Now though, there was no way she was going after her daughter – not if that meant putting her son in danger instead.

She looked down at Neal, who was still screaming bloody murder, and rubbed a hand over his swollen tummy. Then she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her cell.

"Regina? You need to go to Granny's. Right now."