Pulling out of the parking lot would have been quite a challenge as Regina saw it. But she was quite intrigued and awed when Emma manoeuvred the heavy truck out onto the highway with such expertise, not even the haze of the rain could stop her. She was an expert at the wheel, and the massive truck was no challenge to a woman like that. Sitting in her seat, the brunette studied the blonde's face with a kind of enthusiasm that would have made Emma blush, had she seen that look.

Such a look would have possibly blown up the younger woman's ego as well.

She had always been a tough one. A tough woman. And that was one of the reasons Neal had been attracted to her. Because she could manage her own shit and never rely on anyone else. But he seemed to always rely on her.

"Open up, oh Heavens," Regina said in her husky voice, catching Emma's attention, "and pour out your righteousness."

The blonde was slightly amused by the sudden reference. She sent across a surprised look attached to a smile. "I've got to say, you didn't strike me as a bible club kind of woman."

"I'm not," the brunette slipped off those black shoes and curled numb feet under her. "I can remember such a reference from the days when daddy used to recite the book to me."

"He must be a good man," Emma said, throwing a glance at the older woman who seemed more comfortable than before.

"He was." Regina's eyes stared into the road ahead.

"I'm so sorry."

"My mother was abusive." She was revealing so much about herself and didn't even realize it. "My father left her after some time. He died from cancer about fifteen years ago. And the one thing I always remembered him saying is, 'make sure you marry for love, Regina. And not because it is convenient. And leave if you're ever abused.' Because he knew what it was like. He knew how being controlled felt like. But I didn't heed to his warnings."

"It happens," Emma said softly, barely stepping on the gas. "The amount of things my mum told me over the years…I could write a book. And half of the things I don't remember. And almost everything she says is true."

"I'd love to meet the woman who brought you into this world," Regina smiled, scrunching up her red coat between fingers that couldn't keep still. "She must be quite wonderful."

"She's a bible fanatic who attends bible club two times a week and church every Sunday. Loves to bake." Emma remembered her mother's ways and smiled. "She's very short and warm and motherly and makes a fuss about everything. Her name's Mary. Mary Margaret."

"She sounds very sweet."

"She's annoying as fuck," Emma declared. "There's this picture of Jesus in the living room that stares at me everywhere I walk. I swear, it just reminds me of every single bad thing I did when I get into that house."

Regina laughed hoarsely and for the first time since they met, it was like music to the blonde's ears. Her hoarse laughter that wasn't too loud but enough to capture the younger woman's attention as she savoured the sound.

"Come to think of it, maybe that's the reason Neal was afraid to even go into the house."

Another name.

"Is Neal your…partner?" Regina held her breath and refused to look at the blonde. Of course there had to be someone if there was a child. But why was the thought of this Neal stinging her heart all of a sudden?

"Nah," Emma kept her eyes ahead and felt somewhat relaxed about the topic. "He's history."

Then there must be another…lover…surely? "But he's…Henry's father, isn't he?" She couldn't refrain from being interested in this man.

"Doesn't matter to me. It matters to Henry alone. I don't regret bringing the kid into the world, but his father's nothing more than a mistake."

"Just as Robin is," Regina said softly, gazing down at her red plastic coat.

"Do you have kids?" Emma glanced over at the brunette. The truck dove through the black night like a brave swimmer into a black pool. "I think I asked you before."

"No," the older woman shook her head. "I can't have any."

"All natural or something bad happened?" It was the blonde's turn to be curious. "Don't tell me that he kicked you or something because I'm going to see red."

"I just wasn't…blessed in that department," Regina chose to say softly. "It did put a strain on him. But I constantly thanked God that we couldn't have children."

"Because who would want to bring kids into an abusive relationship, right?"

"Exactly." The brunette nodded. They were understanding each other and it was something the older woman hadn't felt in such a long time. "I grew up in a dysfunctional home. I am quite aware of what it is like. And I would not wish the same experience on a child of mine. Where is Henry's father, if you don't mind me asking?"

"In prison," Emma said without allowing a second to roll by. "Where he should be."

Regina admired how confident the younger woman was on her past and who she was. "That must be conflicting for Henry."

"It was in the beginning." Emma licked her lips and reached out to turn on the heater. "And then he kind of started to accept the fact that his father is a loser. The kid adjusted. He expresses himself in art and stuff. You know, drawing…" She cast a glance at Regina. "He's really talented."

"I don't doubt that," Regina allowed their eyes to meet. "I would love to see his work."

"You will."

When Emma uttered those two simple words, such words had a great impact on Regina. It wasn't just a promise, but one that was said with such confidence and hope. And there she sat, still covered in the blonde's red leather jacket whilst her eyes bore into the other woman's cheek.

"I mean it," Emma said as if reading the older woman's mind. "I'm not letting you off anywhere before Maine. If you're running away then you're going to go somewhere where someone knows you and cares enough. I don't know much about you but I know enough. And I want to help."

She didn't know why tears clouded her eyes but it happened. Regina blinked and felt her throat knot into two.

"I shouldn't object," she said hoarsely, "because that would prove futile."

"Good to know that you know how determined I am by now. I'm taking you to Maine and after you meet Henry and see his work, then we will make a move from there."

WE

Regina didn't feel fear of any kind. It was such a weird experience, to have run away with only fear and to come face to face with a stranger who warmed her soul. In more ways than she could embrace. In such a short time, when no one else had managed to have such an effect on her over a span of thirty years. No one had reached in and wrapped a string of lights around her heart. No one. All she had received was conflicts and pointed out errors. She could never do anything right for him, never.

The rain began to shower down on the highway, it was impossible for Emma to see through the downpour. Even her brightest lights on the nose of the truck couldn't illuminate further than that roughly seven feet.

"I think you should pull over," Regina said, worry mixed in her hoarse voice. She cast a glance at the blonde. "This is dangerous, Emma."

From the moment her name was used by the brunette, the younger woman switched gears. It was so sudden. It was the feeling you get in your chest, coupled with a flutter of butterflies when someone speaks your name for the first time. Especially someone you certainly care deeply about. And from the time your name is spoken by that person, all you do is focus on whatever the hell they're saying.

She pulled the truck off the highway and into a space alongside it, wide enough to accommodate the large vehicle. Flicking on her hazard lights that blinked bright orange, it was then when she turned off the engine and sighed.

"This is so fucked up Regina, you have no idea." Emma threw herself back into the chair, quite frustrated, arms folded.

"What is? The fact that you pulled over because it is raining and it is hazardous?" Regina studied the blonde's face.

"No. The part in my contract that says and I quote…'if you burn more than the estimated gas on a route, then you will not be compensated for the difference.' That part."

"That is ridiculous in a situation such as this," the brunette shared Emma's anger. "For goodness sake, it is raining. Surely they must ascertain the risk involved if you continue?"

Emma rolled her eyes and tuned the radio, trying to catch anything about the weather, anything at all. Her frustration wasn't helping the situation, as she turned the knob too fast and groaned in the process. All the while, the brunette was observing with a sense of calm in her soul, a calm after the storm whilst a storm did rage outside. Thunder and lightning dangerously cutting too close to earth, and the howling wind that never budged the truck but swayed the trees.

"…and what seems to be a sudden storm is raging through Massachusetts and New Hampshire."

"There we go," Emma shook her head and appeared impatient. "Fuckers. They could have predicted this shit."

"The storm is expected to blow over within three hours. Pedestrians and drivers are asked to take precaution on the roadways or avoid the roadways."

"The hell?" Emerald eyes were widened. "Three frigging hours?"

Emma's frustration was severely felt and understood by the brunette. However, she chose to silently sit there and witness the internal storm brewing inside the blonde's mind, turmoil that was rising, like crashing waves. Somehow a deep kind of care was being generated for the younger woman, and Regina realized that she hadn't felt this concerned about someone in a very long time. Apart from her dear, deceased father.

"It's almost eight. It'll be over by midnight. Then you can take your time and drive the remaining five hours back to Maine. What time do you have to deliver the items?" Regina was scratching off the peeling red nail polish from her thumb finger to distract her mind from strange feelings.

"Before seven. No," Emma shook her head. "Well I don't have a deadline. Just any time tomorrow. But I like to deliver early so I can get home and sleep and sleep and sleep."

"Well, don't you have a pile of comfortable looking blankets behind there?" Regina gestured behind their chairs and smiled. "Why don't you sleep for a while?"

"And leave you alone here?" The blonde was genuinely concerned.

Regina's cheeks coloured because she couldn't help it, the younger woman's concern was warming. "Lock the doors. I'm fine." Hugging herself, she chose to shift down lower in the seat, thighs pressed together.

"I don't know…" Emma hesitated. "I just don't know. I mean, what if…"

"What if the cargo is stolen? I'm sure that it is quite secure behind there. So cease the worrying. It lines your face too much, dear."

"I'm not worrying about the stupid cargo. I'm worrying about you." Their eyes met and for a brief moment again, something with such depth passed between them, it was like unravelling a piece of cloth. It was a delicate issue.

"Emma, get behind there and rest your eyes," Regina smirked and turned her eyes to the road, still heavily misted by rain. And stop caressing my heart, she wanted to add.

After some amount of fidgeting, where her arms were folded then unfolded, legs twitched and a definite attempt to chew the inside of tender cheeks, she sighed. It could be possible that her fatigue from a lack of sleep was taking a toll. Because certain things, certain feelings were beginning to appear slightly blurred. Blurred lines. Like the one that had been quite evident between them when Regina had slipped into the passenger's seat. The one that had served as a moral fence, preventing her from somewhat caring about this stranger.

Until now.

She needed to sleep.

Taking up her blue water bottle with the American Flag serving as a logo on the side, the blonde thumbed down the lock on the driver's door. The same wasn't done for Regina's door, because if the choice was made and the brunette wished to slip back into the night, then she could do so with ease. But deep down inside, Emma wished that she wouldn't slip away. That she wouldn't leave her. Some large part of her also was attaching itself onto this strange woman. Her smell, the smell of fresh roses and something else. Could it be apples? A hint of apples on that soft honey coloured skin that could either appear entirely pale or severely flushed in certain moments?

"There's a knife here," she gestured to her weapon, about nine inches long with a black rubber handle just in the pocket under the controls. "Don't hesitate to use it on anyone else but me."

Regina chuckled. "Yes, Emma. I'll be sure to remember that."

Getting into the space behind the seats was kind of a challenge, since she was as clumsy as clumsy could ever be shoved into a human being. Her knees sliding over plastic, arms awkwardly grazing the chairs and those long legs never quite working together. Since she was a child, her legs were always a bit too long for her taste. Always long and uncooperative. So that when she did manage to get behind the chairs safely without knocking out the brunette, both of them offered each other a sympathetic face but neither was really aware of the meaning behind such a look.

For Emma, it was her struggle to get behind the seats.

For Regina, it was the blonde's lack of sleep, her frustration and the fact that she needed to rest her eyes, whilst those idiotic employers would disapprove. She was also feeling sympathetic because of her intrusion. The fact that she could be a burden. She was holding back Emma. And she was very sorry for doing all of this.

"Here," Emma handed her a thick, red towel that would provide enough warmth. "Keep this."

"Thank you," Regina said hoarsely, allowing the folded bundle to rest on her lap.

The rain came down harder. The wind drew fiercer. The truck didn't move an inch.

"Did you really mean what you said before?" The brunette held her breath and stared ahead. "About my eyes?" Lowering those pair of orbs that reminded Emma of warm chocolates, the older woman's cheeks coloured.

"I never lie to a pretty woman," the blonde shifted around on the blankets coloured yellow, red and black, yawned at her fluffy yellow pillow, with black lace trimmings. "If I say something about your looks, then I'm being completely honest."

"I suppose you…say such things to many women," Regina's chest heaved. She studied her nails, a few without nail polish.

"Not many women are as severely attractive as you." Throwing back onto the blankets at last, the blonde felt the softness beneath her back and sighed, eyes closing immediately. Right hand behind her head, she felt warm and soothing with the sound of the rain hitting the roof.

"You astound me," the brunette said softly, lips remaining parted as she idly scraped the polish off her little finger. Her tone wasn't laced with anything else but being very captivated by the younger woman's depth of honesty.

"Well someone has to." Emma was calm. "Why though?"

Regina shrugged, "you're…bold. You're so bold with your words and your opinions. It astounds me."

"So you never met a woman with her own opinion?" The blonde was studying the roof of the truck.

"No, it's…" The older woman shook her head. "That's not exactly what I meant."

"Are we still talking about what I said about your eyes?"

"Yes," Regina nodded. "Yes, in relation to that. The way you speak so…poetically. It somehow…soothes me."

The rain began again.

Soothes you, huh. Emma kept her eyes on the back of the other woman's head and smiled. Well if words can soothe you then he surely fucked up big time whilst he had you.

"When was the last time he told you that you're beautiful?" Emma turned her head to consider choppy black hair from the back.

A few seconds dragged by, as the brunette thought about it. "I can't remember," Regina croaked. The feel of her heart making definite thumps was something that filled her with warmth suddenly.

"Anyway," the blonde sighed and latched those emerald eyes onto the ceiling again, "he's an ungrateful fuck, so I'm not surprised.

"There were times when he was quite…gentle with me," the brunette confessed, her tone very soft. "When he would treasure me being in his life. It was an arranged marriage. And I was very conflicted about the whole thing from the beginning so –"

"Wait. Hold up," Emma had to lift herself up for that piece of information, very alarmed. "An arranged marriage?"

"Yes," Regina nodded once.

"What the fuck?" Emerald eyes were widened.

"Thirty years I spent with a man my mother forced me to marry."

"I suddenly don't want to sleep anymore," Emma sat up and scowled. "Does your mother even give a fuck about women rights and the freedom to marry who the hell you want? Where is she from? England?"

"She had good intentions," Regina said softly, and shrugged. "She wanted to marry me into a family that was wealthy. And that is exactly what she did. Robin was quite a gentleman at first, until he grew irritated with me and more interested in younger women."

"I don't ever get why old, wrinkly men jump into bed with these young girls. And the chicks! Don't they have any kind of dignity left?"

"They mostly chase after the wealth, Emma. Old, rich men who can spoil them with fancy things and shiny futures. I never cared about a flashy life, really. I desire something simpler than…wealth."

It was enough to deepen the younger woman's scowl. "Reminds me of Neal in a way. He always had this idea that we had to be rich. We had to have fancy things. And he stole these things. Pissed me off when he couldn't manage to find a good job but chose to make deals with these criminals."

Regina sighed.

Emma lifted her eyes to study the brunette's face, from what she was privileged enough to see from behind the seats. "Tell me what you want in life, Regina. What kind of life do you want exactly?"

For someone to simply ask her that, for someone to even make the effort to care enough for what she desired, it was so powerful a moment for the older woman. She found her fingers closing around the plastic fabric of her red coat, bunching the material up. Her heart fluttered like the wings of a butterfly. And even as breaths were attempted to be taken, none could be achieved fully.

"And why are you interested in what I want?" Obviously her guard was up, well most of it. But the blonde was doing quite a good job at shaking those barriers down one by one. It was incredulous.

"Just a smooth flow of conversation," Emma provided, gazing at choppy dark hair. "I don't know. There are times when I'm a philosopher as my kid would put it."

That made the brunette smile a little. When she spoke next, her voice was very softer than usual. "I want to be happy. I want to be with someone who never grows weary of me. Someone who is compassionate and understanding and warm and…selfless."

Emerald eyes blinked slowly.

"I've spent so much time becoming engrossed in Harlequin novels and soppy romantic movies on the weekends. I have always dreamed of a life where I could tumble in through the door from a long day at work and my significant other and I could share a glass of wine. Curled up in front of the fire, in the person's arms."

Emma smiled. "In a world where things like that should come easy, they really don't. It seems as if men hate things like that now. Women on the other hand are the only ones who seem to always want that. A woman's love is warmer and softer."

"The bond between women have always been stronger," Regina was drifting off, daydreaming about a comfortable life.

"I was actually referring to two women being together." The blonde didn't blink.

So sudden, the statement didn't quite settle in her mind. Regina nodded. "Yes. I have never been privileged enough to have a female best friend. Have you?"

Her innocence, perhaps being distracted by something else amused Emma as those eyes remained glued to the layers in Regina's hair. The length was absolutely perfect in its entirety, not too long, and not too short. But tumbling just an inch below her pushed back shoulders and appearing to have a silky texture that the younger woman ached to touch. How old was she? The blonde pondered on this and tried to make a fair estimation, give or take, on the information that had been provided. Thirty years she had been with this Robin, which meant that she was safely over the age of forty.

Brown eyes turned upon her in that moment of calculation and Emma stiffened.

"Oh," Regina actually smiled warmly, "I thought perhaps that you had drifted into a slumber."

The blonde blinked. She swallowed as those fluttering lashes captivated her heart. "Nah. Best friend...hmm. That would be Ruby. Or Red as we always call her. Good old Rubes. She works routes too. Drives a bigger truck than mine actually. We've known each other for more than twenty years."

"I suppose that such a bond is most favourable when you are overwhelmed during heartbreak or...after a heartbreak. Or even in other situations." Regina shrugged, and shook her head. "I've never had friends really."

"Come on," Emma refused to give into that thought. "A babe like you? I mean you do have a tank of sass and sarcasm and plenty of cute scowls. But what's not to love?"

"I'm quite introverted. I tend to dwell in the shadows, if not for my quick appearances in board meetings and such social events that warrant my presence. Other than that, I am severely a...loner."

"You're like a cinnamon roll right out the oven," the blonde rolled over on her right side, face resting on a bent arm. "Very sweet and warm with a touch of spice."

"Have you ever thought about taking up writing as a hobby?" Regina glanced back and offered a small smile, eyes narrowing. "You have quite a talent with stringing words together."

The younger woman smiled and felt very warm inside, as if she had indeed downed a freshly baked roll with a cup of tea.

The feeling was soothing. It was remarkably satisfying; a feeling she hadn't been enveloped in for many years. It was the brush of a moment upon a closed off heart that had been aching to feel love. To be loved. The feeling of making a connection with someone and savouring every second like an engrossing novel. And the more they lingered in each other's company, the more Emma wished to know.

To feel.

She had never been as mesmerized by any other woman as the definite way she was with Regina. It was such a new experience, to find herself in the company of someone who quickly moved from sharp sass to cracking walls after a free meal. Unless the older woman felt it necessary to reveal as much, to speak as much because of the meal. Believing as if something was owed. But that wasn't it.

No.

Emma deeply realized that it was the way they seemed to bond without limitations, the way they would lock eyes with each other and gain a certain amount of trust. Something that was hard to come by but was growing from every glance, every word uttered.

Beginning to have lingering gazes on another woman's features, and her soft curves under the mellow yellow light in the truck. Admiring the strength, the sass, the wit, the stretch of red lips into smiles. The way she pushed back her shoulders, regardless of her disposition and the brunette's manner of speaking. There was no hint of haughtiness. Most people who were wealthy and high ranked would carry a sense of pride with them.

But not Regina.

The brunette seemed to be somewhat composed even in the shakiest positions. She had been broken down, her walls cracked into tiny pieces by a cheating husband. She had been hit pretty hard and the woman sitting there in front of emerald eyes only needed love.

"I talk too much, huh?" Emma's voice was gentle.

Regina shook her head. "At first it was annoying. But gradually, your care and genuine concern have vaporized that. I find the conversation quite refreshing."

"I don't mean to get all up in your grill," the blonde made it clear. "It's just that I'm usually a loner and I work the roads alone. So when I finally have company, all the things in my head come out."

"Understood," the older woman's husky voice was affected more by her sore throat.

"Have you had run ins with stupid guys most of your life?" She was asking too many questions again. That's how she was, curious, wanting to get answers.

The brunette's eyes fluttered close. She was relaxing gradually. "I've encountered more than I can remember. Robin isn't exactly stupid. He's...cunning and he became greedy. His acts of kindness spiralled into harsh words and ways. He became a bully."

"He used to hit you?" The younger woman's chest tightened. She pursed her lips to smother the anger bubbling up inside.

Regina shrugged only.

The blonde awaited a response but was given none.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said, the very thought paining her heart. "Don't want to talk about it, huh?"

The brunette shook her head, eyes focused forward.

Why is it that men believe that they could simply take the most amazing women for granted?

We're thought of as fragile creatures, Emma considered in her mind. We're thought to be fragile and soft and only made to please a man and to bury ourselves in chores, looking after the kids. But what happens to what we need the most which is complete and honest love and affection and long walks holding hands, soft kisses, glasses of wine before a crackling fire, and cuddling? What is wrong with cuddling a woman who is soft in all the right places and aching to be held in protective arms?

I'd love you endlessly, if I were a man, the blonde thought to herself, gazing at the brunette's honey coloured neck. I'd love you every second of every day, bothering you with calls and messages every time I feared that you thought I didn't miss you. I'd kiss you tenderly before you fall asleep and kiss you before leaving temporarily and I'd always come back home to you.

Emma swallowed hard.

Say it to her.

Ruby's eager face loomed in her mind.

Tell her what no one has probably ever told her. Tell her how special she is. Tell her how you see her. Tell her everything because that's all us women want. We want someone to tell us we're worth something. We want someone to tell us they care and someone to listen and someone to just treasure us. Tell her.

"Well you're special," Emma said in her gentlest tone, hugging herself as she lay on the blankets. "No one should treat you bad. If I had my way, I'd wrap you up in a blanket, rest you in front of a fireplace so you can get warm..."

The brunette's heart was melting.

"I'd make you a cup of cocoa and get out a nice book. And I'd read to you. Chances are that you'll like poetry. So I'd read poetry. I'd also hug you because I'm a hugger. My kid hates when I hug him because he thinks that he's all grown up now. But that's the way I was brought up. My parents used to hug me all the time and still do. Mum's like this marshmallow and she fusses about everything. She even made me bring an extra pair of socks."

Yearning to hear more; that's what the older woman wished for. In regards to the vision Emma had been painting in her mind about the softest gestures. A blanket. Cocoa. Reading to her. How could a person be so gentle and so kind? So generous in dishing out care and love? How could she suddenly pick up a woman she had almost hit and welcome her in with open arms that contained so much warmth?

Regina sat there, and felt conflicted. Then gradually, her conflicting emotions were being cancelled out by the honesty in those gestures. The way the blonde gave without asking for anything in return. The way she gazed at her with emerald eyes that seemed to understand.

"I bet you think that I'm a psychopath, telling you all this stuff to lure you into my trap, huh?" Emerald eyes were closed.

Regina chuckled. "Dear, I've dealt with psychopaths in my career. And you are most certainly not a monster. But an angel."

Emma was slipping away.

Sleep was coming.

"...and I used to read Scriptures before bed and my father used to tell me that if I prayed, that a band of angels would gather around my bed and ward off all nightmares. I suffered from nightmares when I was younger. Never being good enough in my mother's eyes," Regina's husky voice was so soothing to Emma's ears. She found her eyes closing. "She used to tell me that I would grow up to be someone's maid because I was too plain and no man would ever find me attractive."

Emma struggled to stay awake, as cupped fingers tucked dark hair behind an ear. "Yeah?" her voice was barely audible.

The brunette shrugged.

"I never loved myself. I've always been at the bottom of this pit that seems to swallow me. Every single night I would stay awake for hours and reflect on my flaws. Would anyone ever love me? Would anyone ever rescue me from a loveless marriage? I used to be quite hopeful about meeting someone who would make me feel as..." the brunette's hazy image shrugged, "...comfortable as I feel with you. You make me feel..."

Sleep tugged at her mind. The hammering of heavy raindrops on the truck's roof pulled the blonde into a deep sleep that dragged her through soothing visions. Visions of a cabin in the woods made of simple wood; two windows like black eyes. She was standing on the porch, drenched and shaking as the door opened, casting yellow light outside. A face appeared. A face she knew too well by then, with brown pools that drew her shaking soul in and wrapped her in arms that felt so warm. So protective. The smell of roses drowned her and she melted.

She melted into the kind of moment that one savoured on a blanket on a sunny day in spring, surrounded by colourful flowers and in the company of a significant other. The kind of day that contained small smiles and stolen glances and laughter. Fingers entwined upon a red and white checkered blanket with a yellow straw basket sitting inches away from folded legs. The way the wind lightly played with dark, choppy hair and butterflies lingered in the lush green grass.

The way Regina would gaze at her as if she meant the world.