Notes:

I know what you're thinking: two timelines? Well, yeah. Most of "the past" in this story takes place between 2007 and 2010 while Emma is in high school. And "the present" is now.

By the way, part of this story was an experiment in telling a story from a single POV so we'll be sticking with Emma. Can I admit I miss writing in Regina POV though? Just between us?

Chapter 2: Confrontation and Convergence


Apple Valley, Ma

The Past

November 2007

Homecoming came and went, not that Emma cared. She did note that Regina didn't make the court. She strode through the halls too busy to care, people following her and asking questions about the various areas of the school she ruled. Debate club people wanted to know plans for an away competition. Students on the newspaper passed her articles or showed her pictures. Other popular kids courted her opinion or her presence.

Sometimes in the hallways, Regina's eyes met hers and held. More often than not, it stopped all of her forward momentum. Every time, it felt big, a sonic boom that cracked into her world.

On the wrestling team: an impasse. Emma defeated all of the guys occupying the lower weight classes: 113, 120, 126. This meant, technically, she'd earned a place on the team. However, the coach made her practice by herself, away from the others. Her mother, stopping in late one afternoon to check in on things, was predictably infuriated. She went to the principal and he forced the coach not to single Emma out. The coach let her participate in drills after that, but not much else.

Complaints about including her started to pour in from some of her teammates' parents. The coach refused to allow Emma any one-on-one contact, which meant no actual wrestling. He didn't hide his intent to bench her during competition.

Her mother's righteous anger remained unquenched, and she promised she wouldn't give up. Emma had hoped some of the controversy would die down after she'd been on the team for a bit. It hadn't. She still received glares in school. She kept her headphones on, loud enough to dodge hearing muttered insults but low enough so she'd hear any danger coming.

Emma continued hoping she could eventually show them she belonged.

After the first two meetings, the Arts into Action group took on the format of each student presenting a piece of art and explaining what it meant to them. Except for Emma, who chose to haunt the back of the room and watch. She wasn't much for being part of a group. Even when it came to wrestling, she hadn't joined to be part of a team.

She considered Arts into Action kind of boring but didn't want to bail just yet. Regina's chosen pieces were more thoughtful than she would have guessed they'd be. The last one had been a painting of two pieces of the Berlin Wall broken apart by the word "Freedom."

For the fifth meeting of Arts into Action, she arrived first. She set down her gym bag and slouched into a chair at the back. Jefferson entered next, wearing sunglasses and a military officer's hat. It looked vintage, but Emma couldn't be sure. He tipped his cap to her. He sat midway between the front and Emma.

As Regina and Zelena came in, they took the usual seats in the front row. Archie did too. He seemed especially ruffled today, shirt untucked, and holding his arm tight to his ribs. His glasses were missing. A scrape ran down the bridge of his nose.

Bullied again, Emma decided. He gave off waves of vulnerability in the way he held himself and the way he dressed, always in ill-fitting clothes.

Mary Margaret approached when she saw him and sat beside him, talking softly. "You look like you've had a rough day."

"I'm okay, Mrs. Nolan. Just an accident at P.E." Jefferson tilted his head and kept his eyes on them, none of his usual amusement in sight.

"Let's chat for a few minutes after group," she said, her years of experience as a teacher allowing her to give a command without seeming harsh.

"Sure, Mrs. Nolan," he said. He reached in his bag and produced a video tape. "I have an art piece. Is there something we could play this on? If not, someone else can go."

No one wanted to. Instead, everyone was happy to wait while he went to the library and borrowed a TV and VCR in Mrs. Nolan's name.

He played a clip from the 1968 movie, The Planet of the Apes. In the scene, a bunch of humans were in a cage, including Charlton Heston, the main character. He drew words in the dirt, and another captive tried to stop him, going so far as to attack him.

Archie stopped it after that scene.

Zelena flipped through a fashion magazine. Regina tapped her pencil eraser against a notebook. Emma kind of liked the clip but schooled her expression to be neutral. Jefferson rested his chin in his hand during the movie, interested. Immediately after though, he opened his sketchbook and scratched light pencil marks on the paper.

Archie licked his lips, eyes flicking over each of them in turn, aware that they weren't really paying attention.

"The movie examines power. It does a one-eighty on what we consider normal. It gives human beings none and instead puts those once thought of as animals in complete control. They don't care about truth or compassion or justice as much as they do keeping that power."

He touched the edges of his hair with a trembling hand near his forehead just near the start of a bruise."But this scene shows that even the humans, in their fear, would rather destroy anything unique or special than risk punishment. They would rather things stay as they are than —" He swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing as he struggled to complete his sentence. "Than...They beat him down and tried to make him just like them." His voice grew raw. "But he wasn't. He couldn't be."

It jarred Emma, tilted the balanced world she tried to stand on. A need to move spiked in her, to push her muscles and herself till things felt even inside her again. Jefferson stopped sketching. Regina's pencil stopped in mid-air. Zelena raised her head, the glossy print in front of her forgotten.

Archie squeezed the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. "The main character is strong and smart. It's him against almost everyone, except for the two apes who listen. And I think that's why he wins. People don't need a lot to beat the odds, but they need — they need someone."

Regina stared at Archie, frozen, face soft and stricken. She drew in a raspy breath, and crossed her arms on her desk, drawing into herself.

Mary Margaret watched Archie worriedly, already trying to assess how to help.

Emma didn't know how many acts of courage she'd ever witnessed. Yet this kid, this beat-up, disregarded kid spoke fearlessly and showed them his unblemished heart.

"'People need people' is hardly an original thought," Zelena said, but it was quiet, a fabrication of her usual 'I don't care'.

"Hey," Jefferson said, leaning toward her. "Do you want a can of 'shut the hell up'? Because I can get you one." He straightened, looking ahead, gripping the edges of his desk.

Mary Margaret, in four previous meetings of Arts into Action, had given very little guidance, but she did so now. "We will be allowed to tell the truth in this group. No one gets to minimize or insult anyone or their feelings. There will also be no use of the words 'shut up'. Are we all clear?"

Everyone fell into either a sullen or thoughtful silence.

"Does anyone else have art to present?" Mary Margaret asked.

Zelena slowly pulled a printout of a painting from her bag, a classical piece with a pale, naked woman. "Now," she said, with false cheer, fighting past the heaviness still lingering in the room. "Let's talk about how this piece makes us feel."

Regina shook her head back and forth furiously.

"What? " Zelena asked airly. "The name of the painting has the word 'virgin' in it. I thought it would resonate with you."

The others were barely verbal after that. The meeting mercifully ended a half hour later.

Mary Margaret drew Archie aside, talking to him quietly. Emma and the others gave them the room.

Outside the door, Jefferson leaned his head and shoulders against the wall. Emma hovered just outside the classroom. Zelena and Regina started down the hallway.

"Hey, short, dark, and popular," Jefferson called. "Can't you get your minions to back the fuck off him?"

Zelena had been brimming for a fight with him since group. She marched a few feet back in his direction. "I'm surprised you care, psycho. Tell me, is it true love with you and Archie? Do you have a crush?"

He pushed off the wall and adjusted the lapel of his trenchcoat. "You think you calling me a fag is original?" he asked with a smirk. "Jesus, can none of you and your kind think for themselves?"

Zelena put her hands on her hips. "Can you not look like a boring, cheap vampire?"

Regina backed up a few steps and took her sister's arm, pulling her along. "Zelena, come on."

"Your friends torture him," Jefferson said, his sardonic veneer falling away. "And because they do, most of the school has decided that if they do too, they can be just like the cool kids."

Regina's rapid steps faltered. Emma wondered why, throughout this entire exchange, Regina didn't turn around.

Zelena yanked her arm from Regina. "Aren't you going to tell this idiot that it's not our job to give charity to the masses?" Her eyes cut back and forth between her sister and Jefferson. "Why so quiet? Why no cutting him down to size for daring to challenge you?"

Regina closed in on Zelena, a muscle jumping near her jaw. "We're going to go. Now." The commanding voice and the blazing inferno in her eyes would have made almost anyone in the school cower.

Almost.

Dark amusement crossed Zelena's face as she said, "Are you afraid for them to find out what happened earlier? What, the freak-show and the dyke? Or perhaps you're ashamed." Glee rose in her voice. "You are."

"Shut up."

Emma knew some of the names people called Jefferson. Until now, though people jeered her with "dyke" occasionally, she didn't process that she'd become someone with a school-wide reputation. It didn't matter, not really — except it kind of did. She didn't join the wrestling team to become a spectacle. She just wanted to wrestle. Knowing that everyone at Abigail Adams High School judged her to be worthless stung.

Jefferson broke into a jog, shuffling to a halt in front of Zelena. "I love a good story."

Emma jogged to catch up. Jefferson challenged things, in his appearance, his attitude, and the overall way he carried himself. She didn't read him as violent at all, but his unpredictability made her want to keep an eye on him. At least right now.

"Are you wearing eyeliner?" Zelena asked him.

"Absolutely." He leaned an arm on her shoulder. She shoved it away. "Soooo, what isn't she telling us?"

"Well, Regina, shall I regale them with the story of just before group?"

"Zelena." Regina's hands became fists, her voice whipped toward her sister. "We're going."

Zelena's expression grew more and more triumphant. Regina curled her books harder into her chest, the steel of her stance weakening. Zelena turned to the others, eyes blazing contentment, enjoying the moment. "It was on our way here. Some of our friends, well, Regina's friends," she amended, "surrounded Archie. They batted him around like a volleyball and capped it off by taking turns seeing how hard they could shove him into a locker. I believe one of them was Regina's current boyfriend, isn't that right Regina?"

Emma's brow furrowed. "Wait, what do you mean, you saw it?"

"We stood there as they made him a human pinata, waiting for them to finish so we could continue on our merry way." Zelena said.

Jefferson's expression grew disgusted. Emma wondered how many times in her life, anyone had ever dared to look at Regina that way. "You know him, and neither of you lifted a finger to help him."

"Of course not," Zelena said. "Why should I care? No one one gives a damn about me. As for mommy's perfect angel — popular, the right boyfriends, the right clubs, the best grades." Bitterness sharpened her voice. "She can't risk anything tainting her pristine little world or her standing. And sticking up for the school loser would certainly do that."

Regina lifted her chin and backed away from all of them, but shame colored her cheeks.

"You both suck!" Jefferson's yell echoed down the hall. "I really shouldn't be surprised. You'd think I'd know better. You weak, spineless…"

Regina thrust her iron defenses between them, anger stirring on her face. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Jefferson, come on, man," Emma said, a light rebuke. She didn't know why she bothered. Everything inside her agreed with him. Just...something about the stricken expression on Regina's face tugged at her.

A moment later, she stalked away from them. One of her books clattered to the floor. She didn't bother to stop and pick it up.

For some stupid reason, their encounter that day fueled certain fantasies as Emma lay in bed that night. The impervious queen's show of flawed humanity made her reachable somehow.

The scene from earlier that day changed. She ran after Regina, trapped her against a set of lockers with her body and muffled her cry of surprise as she kissed her. Regina's breath grew more and more ragged as she sought more from Emma.

Emma tasted the soft curve of her neck. She touched her.

Her name was a hot cry on Regina's lips as Emma's handmade the forbidden journey to cup her breast.

She'd wanted like this before. Always women; from television mostly, ones she didn't know and would never know. Images lighting her brain like lightning, flashes of skin and the temptation of curves making her ache.

She'd never fantasized about someone real and near.

It felt like trouble. She — Regina Mills — was a world of trouble.

###########################################

Apple Valley, Ma

The Present

/Previously on FF/

"...so today on Regal Desserts, two types of cookies that defy convention but are still heavenly." She said the last line playfully.

"Now, I can't play it for you because," she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, telling her audience a secret, "of licensing and cost, but I highly recommend listening to oldies while you bake. Sam Cooke, Otis Redding, Etta James, Aretha…."

Emma wondered why she did this to herself.

/End of Previously on FF/

Emma found release in violence, a simplicity to it that pulled from her something primal and true. She needed to move toward something, to take action and do something, seize something, fight for something.

Her mother had thought that such a radical need to be in motion denoted a lack of thinking. Mary Margaret wanted her daughter to use reason, words and tenacity to make a difference in the world. Emma, who didn't necessarily have the ambition to change anything or anyone, just wanted to move.

Emma swallowed down that instinct as she stared through the front windows of Shakespeare's Alehouse and Wine Bar. Because, fuck, there sat Regina Mills.

Pink collared shirt, sipping at a glass of what was probably a mojito. Dark hair touching her shoulders, curling under just a little at the ends. Her lips accentuated by deep red lipstick.

On a computer screen, when she watched Regina's show, the 2-D vision of her could be controlled. She could turn it on and off.

Now, seeing her, her heart burned with need at the same time a chill of anger spread through her head. It made her rethink going in. She suspected that one look in those penetrating, quietly world-weary eyes, and she'd cave. She wanted to hold onto her righteous fury at her.

Yeah, she should go. She'd text Archie her apologies.

Except she'd have to face him at their weekly dinner and he'd give her that disappointed expression, turning the handle on her guilt to full blast.

She muttered her promise to him: "Just a couple drinks to see the old gang. Just a couple drinks."

A couple pushed the door open and nearly smacked into her, apologizing. She sighed and decided she should just go in. She plunged her hands deep into her front hoodie pockets and caught the front door with her shoulder before it closed.

"A couple drinks," she said again and turned sideways to squeeze past the crowded bar area to the small twenty-seat dining room beyond it.

They were easy to find.

Since high school, they'd all changed in some ways but in others they hadn't. Archie, glasses perched on his nose and wearing a fucking bow tie and sweater-vest like he'd stepped into this world from the 1950's. Jefferson, wearing a top-hat and a long black trench coat, in July. His feet were propped on an empty chair she assumed was meant for her. Emma wondered how his art was going. He'd submitted some of his pieces to local galleries, but last she heard, all of them had been rejected.

Zelena examined a wine bottle and handed it back to the waiter with a shake of her head. "My mistake asking for the house wine. Can you bring me something that tastes a little less like mold? Thank you, darling."

Regina, seated facing the door, regarded the exchange with an amused curve of her lips. "Snob," she said, chuckling as the waiter fled.

Zelena preened then winked at her. "Of course I am."

In high school, tension had constantly brimmed between them. Now, they sat next to each other radiating only affection and a familial tolerance.

Archie spotted Emma first and surged to his feet, opening his arms and embracing her. Zelena's arms were more tepid as they wrapped around her, but they hadn't seen each since the fight with Regina.

She glanced up to Regina's face. How the fuck was she was more beautiful? It punched her in the gut, made her want to fight. Her body revved with old feelings and desires. All of her daydreams stampeded through her after years of being repressed. In so many of her teenage, then adult, fantasies she'd imagined Regina talking to her, using that impressive vocabulary to tell Emma what she wanted, and how good it felt when Emma gave it to her. Regina's calm, confident voice becoming helpless until Emma's touch stole all of her words.

There were other dreams too, just as common, loving ones where she just, in some small way, said what she'd been hiding in her heart for years.

The memories of real life demanded their turn, twisting her round and round, until she grew dizzy. Every laugh they'd shared, or time Regina soothed her with kinds, soft words, or when they told one another secrets they would never, ever tell anyone else.

Jefferson stood and tipped his hat before settling an arm around her, whispering. "Could be worse. She could be the first in a line of Regina clones." His eyes widened dramatically, the black mascara making his blue eyes pop. Emma laughed. Saying off-the-wall things had always been part of his charm.

Regina didn't rise at all. All signs of humor drained from her face, replaced by an unreadable expression. She recognized Regina's shields. Their friendship used to mean Regina didn't need them around her.

"I was worried you weren't going to be able to make it," Archie said and squeezed her shoulder, guiding Emma to sit next to him. From someone else, it may have been a hint, an insult, a barb — she was at least forty-five minutes late. Her foster brother didn't play those kind of games.

She could feel Regina's eyes on her. Emma pushed her fists deeper still into her pockets and avoided her gaze. It felt like they were sitting too close despite Regina being across the table. The room choked her with ripples of warmth that caused her skin to prickle with moisture.

She needed something cold and ordered a beer.

"We were just sharing news," Zelena said.

"Well, you all were," Jefferson corrected. "I'm still bartending. My masterpiece."

"It's just for now," Archie said, defending Jefferson from his own self-deprecation.

Jefferson gave a small roll of his eyes at Archie's confidence in him but grinned. He gestured toward Regina. "Anyway, Regina is about to go big time."

Emma turned to her.

She smiled, polished and composed. "That's not a certainty in any way. I was just explaining that I may have the possibility of moving my show to a national market. A significant opportunity, but a vastly different direction than I had previously considered. We'll simply have to see what happens."

Emma gritted her teeth to bear the brunt of two conflicting emotions. She'd missed the way Regina chose the longest, most sophisticated way to describe any given thing. She also resented Regina's impeccability. The way she casually she mentioned this giant career break. Regina Mills with her suit, diamond earrings and matching necklace. Everything coordinated and just so. Fucking perfect.

"Are you still fighting, Emma?" Zelena asked. "I meant — your career — not with…anyone." She blanched, then took a long sip of water.

"I'm training. Want to get into shape." She toyed with the label on her beer bottle. "Hard to balance that and being a cop."

"I can imagine," she said. "I sometimes run into officers from your department at the courthouse. They have promised me that you are, in fact, alive." The edge of hurt in Zelena's words scraped over Emma. Everyone's eyes fell or wandered away from the table. Like they all felt she'd blown them off but were too polite to say it.

It wasn't that simple. She missed them too, could feel the hole of their absence in her life when she let herself. Her friends.

No, her family. The only one she had left.

It was hard to face them, especially them as a unit. It ached to be around them. Around her too. They were part of a vast array of things and people she tried to avoid now. Especially Regina. Except even without them speaking for so long, Regina badgered her.

Archie refused to let Emma drift away into her self-imposed isolation. Sometimes he brought Jefferson to their weekly Thursday dinners. They were roommates. Archie certainly didn't need the extra money, but Jefferson would have probably been living in a shack without the help.

"If you ever do make it downtown, maybe we'll grab lunch?"

"Sure, we could do that."

Zelena moved the spotlight from Emma to Archie. "So, Archie, you dating anyone?"

He held up his hands. "No, no, no — stop offering to set me up. I'm not ready. The last thing I want to think about right now is getting back out there. I took Jefferson's advice and got a dog. She's a rescue."

Jefferson waggled his brows. "Actually, I suggested you get a dog or become my sugar daddy."

"I did let you move in with me," Archie pointed out.

"A true sugar daddy gives jewelry. I like silver."

"I'll keep that in mind," Archie adjusted his glasses and squirmed in his chair. Archie never felt comfortable discussing sex or dating. For many years he'd struggled with confidence which impacted both. "My ex is a good person, we just weren't a good fit in the end. I think she just found me kind of dull to be with on a day-to-day basis. It was hard to realize that but...but I'm hopeful one day I'll meet someone who won't."

Emma winced, kicked by self-inflicted recriminations. He'd gotten divorced six months ago, and they had talked about it exactly once. She thought about him, worried about him; she just struggled with finding the energy to contact him. Since the fight, the loss, all of their contact and conversation happened at the weekly get togethers. He hadn't brought up the divorce more than just the one time. She should have asked.

Zelena patted Archie's hand. "I just trying to get you to play the field. Have a little fun. But, I don't want to have to represent you again so take your time." She withdrew as a new bottle of wine was delivered. She tasted it and apparently it passed muster. "Besides," she said airly, "you should make sure to consider all your options."

A moment later the table jumped and Zelena winced and glared at Jefferson.

"Four glasses?" She asked directing the question to Emma. Emma shrugged, pushing aside her beer. Zelena turned back to the waiter. "Four glasses and a virgin strawberry daiquiri which," she eyed Jefferson, "I will point out again, is basically a smoothie."

"I like the umbrellas," he said, which Emma recalled him saying at least once before to similar harassment from her.

"And how are you overall, Emma?" Regina asked quietly.

In high school, their eyes met in the halls and a boom resounded through her, shaking her. Then as now, these first few words between them in two years caused shockwaves.

Her eyes dropped, and she tried to use that old 'imagine a lake and find calm' technique. Anything to keep herself steady and stop her anger from crumbling into dust. "Regular paycheck and benefits. No complaints."

Regina straightened in her chair, confused, then resigned.

"You know I was just telling a patient how much we associate well-being with how work is going." Archie reached toward the center of the table and plucked an eggroll for the appetizer platter. "He struggles with anxiety. His boss is a bad fit for him because he micromanages and doesn't offer very much encouragement. Same job and another boss and he might do really well."

"Well," Zelena sighed. "I know I feel a weight off my shoulders since I opened my own practice. But I could use some down time. It's been months since I've been on anything resembling a date."

"My god, it's like you've become a nun."

Zelena made a face at Jefferson and stole his top hat, placing it on her head at an angle. "I know. It's awful."

"It is surprising, given your appetites," Regina said, pushing the hat down lower on Zelena's head.

"Now, now. I am selective, sober and use birth control. There's nothing wrong with having as much fun as possible. If only I found men useful in any other way."

Regina chuckled, "Perhaps one day."

"I know I try to be as useless as possible," Jefferson said.

Emma yanked a menu from the center of the table and stared at it. She told herself to keep mostly quiet and, whatever she did, not talk to Regina. It was easier thought than done. She found it almost impossible to deny that familiar urge to engage with her. "I guess you're pretty good then, Regina? Your own show instead of keeping you crammed in that local morning show, and now maybe a national thing, huh?"

"Yes, and I'm dating a very stable, respectful man named…"

"Craig," Jefferson, Zelena and Archie said together.

A muscle ticked in Emma's cheek.

"I still say he doesn't exist," said Jefferson. "She's never introduced him to us. All we know is he's an investment banker and collects old coins. He sounds too boring to be real."

"It's not serious enough to scare him with all of you," Regina said, smirking at him. She crossed one arm over the other on the table and turned her attention to Emma again. "You didn't really answer my question, Emma. How are you?"

The quiet, wounded way she asked it made Emma push back from the table. "Pretty sure I did answer."

She hadn't, but she didn't care. She didn't owe Regina a thing.

Regina's jaw clenched and her lips thinned. "No," Regina said, matter-of-factly, her calm strained. "What you did was give an adult equivalent of 'I'm fine'. Since we are all no longer in high school, I expected a more complete response."

"Well you can add my answer to your 'things I dislike about Emma' list."

"Or you could act like an adult and actually share basic information."

The air became prickly and uncomfortable. "Yeah, I am an adult, which means I get to make choices about things like what I tell and don't tell people."

"Come on, you two, put the claws away," Zelena said softly.

Regina leaned forward towards Emma, fingers steepled. "When people care about someone, they are naturally curious about the details in their life."

"Maybe, I just think you have a strange way of showing how much you care about me."

"If you want to talk about what happened, we can —"

Emma gripped the edge of the table, and their verbal tennis, as fast and furious as any set ever played at Wimbledon, continued. "I don't."

"Then I reiterate, adults talk in complete thoughts and sentences."

"Oh, is that how it works? They actually talk things out?"

"Again, if you —"

"Guys!" Zelena said loudly enough to make several people from nearby tables swivel their heads in her direction.

"Sorry," Emma said and declared herself right in thinking coming here was a mistake. "You know what, I should get home. Early day tomorrow."

"Wait," Archie said and touched her arm. "Can you give me another few minutes? Please? I told you I have an idea."

Sometimes it felt like the balloon of her life drooped, empty and lifeless, and he was one of the few people who added air. She poured more wine and returned to her seat.

He sagged with relief and beamed, as if by staying she'd done something heroic, given him a gift. "Thanks, Emma." He faced the others. "Usually we'd catch up, toast Mrs. Nolan and the Five Flames and call it a night. But, her birthday is tomorrow. I think we should take the opportunity to truly honor her and what she taught us. I want to have one last Arts into Action meeting. The Five Flames getting together, reviewing a piece of art,…"

"And the dares?" Zelena asked.

"Well, that was always the most important part," Archie said.

She nodded. "So then we'd need a debrief too, right?"

"My thought was we could get together tomorrow and do the follow up the next week," he explained. "Just like we used to. I could take care of picking out the art. I know it's a little last minute, but what does everyone think?"

"Are we meeting at PLB?" Regina asked.

Archie smiled. "Of course. It wouldn't be an official meeting without that."

"We're sure no one tore that barn down?" Emma asked.

"Quite sure," Zelena said, but didn't clarify.

"So," Archie said, corralling them back toward his original question. "What about if we meet early evening? Maybe seven or so while there's still some light?"

"Aces," Jefferson said, his way of saying he was in.

"I'll go," Zelena added and turned a pointed look to her sister.

Regina frowned. "Why are you giving me that look?"

"Because you're a workaholic who only barely lets yourself have a life."

"I have a life. I'm dating —"

"Craig," everyone except Emma chorused.

Regina ignored all of them. "Of course I'll go, Archie."

Emma instinctively gave herself an out. "I'll have to see how things go at the station. I'll let you know."

"Thank you again for putting this together," Regina said to Archie, beating Emma to the punch before she could stand again. Regina hugged everyone in turn except Emma. Emma glared at her beer bottle, pretending not to notice her departure.

"Emma," Archie said quietly, eyes traveling between her and Regina. "Maybe —"

Emma turned hard eyes on him and he stopped.

She waited five minutes before making an excuse to leave.

Zelena moved toward her and hugged her. "I may be wasting my breath but after Archie's reunion, can you try not to be such a stranger?"

She gave a nod she didn't think she meant before breaking away.