Thanks for your patience and the continued kudos as I work on this story one chapter at a time. Between Real Life and writing my original novels (check me out at elizalentzski dot com), it leaves little time in the day. But I love writing fan fiction, so thanks for sticking it out with me.

Chapter 4

"Mom? Ma? Hey, Mom!"

Emma shook her head. "Huh, what?"

"You're burning the French toast."

"Shit. Damn it."

Emma grabbed a spatula and flipped the egg-soaked toast over in the frying pan and frowned at the now blackened breakfast. She stepped on the garbage can foot pedal, causing the lid to lift, and threw the wasted food away. At least Henry had caught it in time so the smoke alarm in the building hadn't gone off. When they'd first moved into the building, she had been guilty of burning microwave popcorn so badly that the local fire department had been alerted.

"Are you okay?"

Emma grabbed two more slices of white bread and dipped them into the bowl of egg batter. "Yeah. Why?"

Henry shrugged. "I dunno. You just seem distracted."

"I guess I am." Emma hated how her emotions were always just beneath the surface, and Henry had always been able to read her like a book. She stared at the new French toast, sizzling in the frying pan. "Hey, did Walsh call last night when I was out?"

"Nope." Henry fished a piece of turkey sausage from a pile sitting on a paper towel. "Why?"

"No reason." Emma frowned. She hadn't thought he had. When Walsh had given her that excuse the previous night, she'd known he'd been lying. She hadn't wanted to call his bluff in front of Regina though.

Emma flipped the second set of French toast, careful not to let this batch burn. Her phone rang on the kitchen island, out of her reach. "Can you check who that is, kid?" she asked.

Henry wiped the sausage grease that coated his fingertips on his jeans and picked up the phone. "It doesn't say. And I don't recognize the area code."

"Okay. You can let it go to voicemail."

"Hello?" Henry answered the phone instead of letting it ring. "Emma Swan's phone."

"Henry!" Emma exclaimed.

He held his finger to his lips to shush his mother. "Yeah, she's here. She's burning French toast."

Emma put her hands on her hips and shook her head.

"Today?" Henry continued the call. "I think so. Let me ask." He held his hand over the phone. "It's Regina. She wants to know if you're free for lunch."

Emma opened her mouth. She had a few cases to check in on and would probably be eating in her car between meetings and phone calls. But before she could turn down Regina's request, Henry was answering for her. "Yup. She's free. How about noon at the Boat House in Central Park?"

Emma reached for the phone. "Give me that!" she hissed.

Henry hopped off his stool and positioned himself so the kitchen island was between them. "Sounds great," he rushed out before Emma could snatch the phone away. "You, too. She'll see you soon," he said before hanging up.

"Henry! Why did you do that?" Emma complained.

"I know you. You'd have a chili dog for lunch in the Bug if you didn't have formal lunch plans. Besides, I like Regina. You could use some more friends."

Emma bit her lower lip. Regina had been in the forefront of her thoughts lately. She rarely allowed new people into her and Henry's life, but somehow Regina had maneuvered her way into their home. But more surprising was that Emma didn't feel insecure or threatened by it.

"I don't need friends," she said. She pushed the hair away from her son's forehead. "I've got you."

Henry ducked his head away. "Moooommmm." He swept the hair back in place. "You need some adult friends."

"Okay, okay," she conceded. I'll have lunch with her if I don't get busy."

"Make the time," he said pointedly. "And you've probably burnt the French toast again."

Emma let out an uncharacteristic shriek and ran to the stovetop. She threw the frying pan into the sink after seeing that this French toast was ruined as well.

"How do you feel about cereal?" she sighed.

There was a brisk knock at the front door to interrupt their breakfast for a second time.

"What now?" Emma huffed.

"Someone coming over?" Henry asked.

Emma untied the apron around her waist and tossed it on the kitchen counter. "No."

The knocking resumed as a loud pounding.

"Henry, wait here." She opened the apartment door to find a man standing in the hallway.

A broad smile crossed the man's handsomely rugged face. "Swan. At last—" He took a step forward, only to find Emma's outstretched palm restricting him from entering her home.

"Woah, do I know you?"

"Look, I need your help," the peculiarly dressed man explained. "Something's happened. Something terrible. Your family is in trouble."

Emma's features creased in concern. "My family's right here. Who are you?"

"And old friend," the stranger replied. "Look, I know you can't remember me, but … I can make you."

"Sorry I'm late," Emma apologized. She threw herself onto the vacant chair across from where Regina sat. She scanned their surroundings, an old habit she'd acquired from so many years as a bond's person. The Boat House was an iconic destination in Central Park. She typically avoided it because of the tourist traffic.

Regina looked over the top of the menu with raised eyebrows. "I almost thought I'd been stood up."

"I bet that would have been the first time in your life that had happened."

Regina returned her gaze to the menu options rather than let the blush reach her cheeks. "Then I guess we're both lucky you actually showed up."

None of this playful back and forth banter should have felt comfortable, but it did. She and Emma Swan had eventually come to an uneasy coexistence in Storybrooke. This memory-less version of Henry's birth mother was becoming dangerously addictive. She'd known she was pressing her luck by inviting her to a second meal in so many days.

Emma snatched a fresh baked roll from the basket on the table and took an aggressive bite. "I'm not always late, I promise," she said around a mouthful of food. "My life is just weird sometimes. Things seem to happen to me."

Regina set her menu down. "Like what?"

Emma grabbed a pat of butter and spread a generous glob on her half-eaten dinner roll. "I dunno," she shrugged. "Like strange men showing up at my front door and kissing me?"

Regina nearly spit out her water. "What?!"

"What can I say?" Emma grinned. "Sometimes I'm too charming for my own good."

Regina took another sip from her water glass. "Charming," she mumbled under her breath. "Is this a common occurrence in this city? Should I be worried about strangers showing up at my hotel door, demanding to be kissed?"

"Oh, I think you're probably safe." Emma waved the pointed end of her butter knife in Regina's direction. "But maybe you should button up that blouse a little more so you don't attract a fan club."

Regina made an uncomfortable noise and tugged at the collar of her shirt. There was nothing out of the ordinary about her outfit that day—dress pants and a buttoned up blouse, unbuttoned to the third button. "And how does your Walsh feel about how irresistible you reportedly are?" Regina asked, deflecting.

"Irresistible?" Emma grinned playfully. "I only said I was charming."

Regina rolled her dark eyes.

"Walsh isn't the jealous type," Emma said. "I like that about him. I've got enough drama in my life from my job. I don't need it in my private life as well."

Regina made a humming noise. "I don't know. Don't take this the wrong way, but it sounds a little boring to me. Don't you want a partner who'll fight for you?"

Emma shrugged and fiddled with her water glass. "I dunno. I never gave it much thought. I guess I'm just impressed anyone would want me in the first place."

From anyone else, Regina would have thought they were fishing for compliments. But she knew Emma; she knew her deepest insecurities. This woman was an orphan who'd felt betrayed and abandoned by everyone who'd come into her life. Everyone but Henry, that is. It was something they shared.

Regina reached across the table and grasped Emma's hand. "Never sell yourself short, dear." She rubbed the pad of her thumb over Emma's knuckles.

Emma ducked her head, clearly pleased and embarrassed by the other woman's words. "So," she grinned. "You think I'm irresistible?"

Regina removed her hand from Emma's. "Where is that waitress?" she complained, scanning the busy restaurant. "I'm starving."

Emma laughed, but let the topic drop. "So I tried looking up Storybrooke, and you were right—nothing came up."

"I told you it was small."

"More like nonexistent," Emma noted.

Regina shrugged, hoping she didn't look unhinged. "We're a hidden gem. The people of Storybrooke like it that way."

"What are you up to after this?" Emma asked, picking up a laminated table tent and reading the featured menu items. "More important mayoral meetings?"

"No. I'm finished for the day, so I'll probably head back to my hotel. Pass the time before it's time to eat again."

"Have you gotten to see much of the city during your business trip?"

"A little of Central Park today, and what I've seen in the neighborhood around my hotel," Regina said.

"That's a crime." Emma clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "No offense to your little town, which I'm sure is charming, but you're in the greatest city in the world. You've got to take advantage of that."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "Do you have some recommendations for me?"

"How about I do you one better?" Emma leaned in. "I'll be your personal tour guide."

"I couldn't ask you to do that," Regina resisted, shaking her head.

"You didn't ask. I offered."

Regina's immediate instinct was to reject the eager woman seated across the table from her. Snow White's warning tone chirped in the back of her mind; she wasn't supposed to be spending so much time with Emma. Snow's words of caution were nearly as annoying as Jiminy Cricket, the personification of a conscience.

"Let's say I took you up on your offer. What would be first on your list?" Regina asked.

Emma's smile widened. It took Regina aback to have the megawatt grin aimed in her direction. "How do you feel about fish?"

"This is ... incredible."

"I'm betting they don't have anything like this in Storybook, huh?"

After lunch, and a brief disagreement over who should be responsible for the bill, Emma had hailed a cab and directed them to the New York Aquarium at Coney Island. Because it was a school day, the aquarium was sparsely populated. Only a few families—tourists to the city, Regina guessed—crowded around the impressive water tanks and exhibited sea animals. The rest of the aquarium's buildings were largely vacant except for themselves and a few uniformed employees.

"It's Storybrooke, dear," Regina gently corrected. "And no. We don't."

"Same difference."

Regina glanced askew at the woman standing beside her. Emma was staring straight ahead at the colorful fish in the tank in front of them. The aquablue of the water had tinted her alabaster skin a similar shade. First referencing her boyfriend as having a Peter Pan complex, the use of the word "charming," and now Emma had called her town a story book. The magically repressed memories were there, just simmering beneath the surface.

"Do you come here often?" Regina asked.

"Enough," Emma confirmed, eyes trained on a school of fish floating parallel to the glass barrier. "When I'm having a bad day at work, it's a nice place to go to clear my head."

"Do you have a lot of bad days?" Regina asked.

"The good days have outnumber the bad days since we moved to New York."

"I can understand your attraction to this place." Regina watched a manta ray flutter gracefully across the oversized tank. "It's mesmerizing."

"Mmhmm," Emma agreed. "And haunting."

Regina looked to Emma again, amused and perplexed by the thoughtfulness writ across the blonde woman's face.

"I'm suddenly hungry again," Emma announced.

"Hopefully not for fish," Regina mused.

"Naw. Something salty, like popcorn. I think I saw a vendor just outside the aquarium entrance. You want anything? My treat," she offered with an easy smile. "Especially since you were stubborn enough to insist on paying for my lunch."

Regina found herself returning the smile rather than scolding the other woman for snacking between meals. "No thank you, dear. I'm fine."

Emma shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and bobbed her head. "I'll be right back. Don't leave."

Regina watched the awkward yet endearing gait as Emma left in search of empty calories. Once out of sight, Regina returned her attention to the kaleidoscope of colors swimming just behind the thick aquarium glass. She hadn't been humoring Emma before. There was nothing like this in either Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest.

"Tell me, dear," a low female voice announced, "just what might the Evil Queen be doing in New York?"

Regina spun away from the tank of salt water fish. "I beg your pardon?"

The woman who had addressed her wore the uniform of an aquarium employee. Her hair was disheveled and her skin shone with the grime of a hard day's work. Her face, however, was unreadable—emotionless. "You don't recognize me, do you?"

"No, I'm sorry. I think you have me mistaken for someone else." Regina moved to dismiss the woman by walking away, but she found herself being tugged back by five strong fingers wrapped tight around her wrist.

"What do you think you're doing?" Regina protested in the most offended and displeased tone she could muster. She was royalty; no one grabbed her like that and kept their head. She tried to shake her arm free from the aquarium worker's unforgiving grip, but she was unable to wretch herself free.

"Maybe you'd realize who you were talking to if I had my tentacles back, Your Majesty," the dark skinned stranger growled lowly.

"Tentacles?" Regina echoed. She drew in a sharp breath when she realized how they knew each other. "The sea bitch. What are you doing here?"

"Rumor has it, I have you to thank for that."

"The curse," Regina murmured. "Yes."

"I was immortal," Ursula hissed. Regina winced when the grip at her wrist perceptibly tightened. "Anything I desired was mine. The seas and its creatures bent to my will. And now I clean their tanks."

"I've always enjoyed irony," Regina said in an even tone. Despite the coolness of her voice, Regina felt a surge of fear. It was becoming too much of a familiar compatriot beyond the town line in this world without magic.

"Does your friend know who you are?"

"My friend?"

"The blonde woman you showed up with. Is she from our world?"

Regina scanned the immediate vicinity, looking for Emma, but she had yet to return. "No," she denied. "She's from here." The less Ursula knew, the better, even if it meant stringing together one lie after the next.

Ursula finally released her hold on Regina's arm. "What would she do if she knew who you really were?"

"Probably dismiss you as another New York City crazy person," Regina quipped, rubbing her wrist. "I hear they're in high demand these days."

Ursula made a thoughtful hum. "Is that a gamble you're willing to take, my dear?"

Regina narrowed her dark eyes. "What's in it for you?"

"To see you squirm like a worm on a hook, of course."

An apt metaphor. "Keep my cover, Squid," Regina bit back, "and I'll take you back with me when I leave this city." There was no chance Emma would ever believe the nonsensical ranting of this woman if she chose to expose Regina, but she didn't need Emma spooked away.

Ursula's eyes brightened with renewed interest. "To the Enchanted Forest?"

"No. That world is gone," Regina easily lied again. In truth, without knowing what had happened to them in the past year, she couldn't know for sure what had happened to the Enchanted Forest or if it still existed. "But there's a new place for us. A little town north of here where your powers can be restored."

Regina had no intention of helping the sea queen return to power, but she couldn't take the chance that Ursula might ruin her plans.

"A town with magic?" Ursula eyeballed the former evil queen. "Why should I trust you? When has anything but lies and manipulation ever come out of that pretty mouth?"

Regina reflexively stiffened. "I'm not that same woman anymore."

Ursula's lip curled into a menacing leer. "And neither am I thanks to you."

TBC