Nothing Comes from Nothing
A Swan Queen Story
Author: parakitty
Co-Author / Beta: Lain Stardust
General Disclaimer(s): Refer to Part 1.
Author's Note: Since we don't have a complete understanding of how one becomes a sheriff or deputy in the State of Maine, we're taking some obvious liberties, just like they do in the show. Also, we fleshed out a bit of Emma's backstory while working with what we know. Nothing too extreme, just something to explain how she got to where she was in the pilot.
Thank You: We would also like to extend heartfelt thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read, to follow, to favorite, to leave kudos, and to leave a review for our story. Your interest and enjoyment is quite inspiring and greatly appreciated.
~SQ~
PART 4
"Your handwriting is still deplorable," the former mayor said, glaring at a barely legible incident report. She readjusted her glasses in a vain attempt to better read the document.
Rolling her eyes, the sheriff continued filling out another form, a complaint about a hoarder on Pine Tree Lane. She sheepishly glanced over the brunette's latest outfit that finally included functional footwear, even if they were five hundred dollar Prada loafers. "It's not like anyone actually reads them," she mumbled.
With a huff, Regina put the report on top of Emma's file pile. "This special election is taking far too long." She had suspicions that Mrs. Frost was perhaps stalling the proceedings, maybe even working with Albert Spencer. During the debate, the lieutenant-mayor, Ms. Ginger, seemed quite ready to pass the reins on to someone else. She again wondered what could've persuaded either woman to remove their names from the ballet and perhaps dissuaded others from being added.
"Who do you think will be elected?" the sheriff asked conversationally. She signed off on her report with a flourish and dropped the form on the pile for Ruby to file later.
"It's difficult to say," the former mayor said, taking off her glasses. As she folded them, she retrieved their case out of her purse. "However, your endorsement will probably swing quite a few voters."
"I can't endorse anybody. That's unethical," Emma stated flatly. She'd been annoyed by Mr. Gatsby's none-too-subtle hints for an interview after the debate. Handing his card to her last night was one thing, but did he really have to call this morning?
"No one will accept that excuse," Regina smirked, sitting back. She was starting to enjoy their conversations of late. Although ineloquent at times, she appreciated Emma's sharp and candid wit.
"Excuse?" the sheriff repeated, frowning and dropping her forehead on her desktop. She groaned in frustration. To top it off, her parents had been particularly annoying the last few days before the debate. She could've blown the whole thing off if not for them calling and texting. "It's the truth," she said, her words muffled.
"That's not what everyone's been whispering every time we walk into Granny's," the former mayor calmly explained, tilting her head curiously. She paused before adding, "The politics of the Enchanted Forest region were simplistic, at best. Everyone assumes you'll pick your father and that you just don't want to admit it, that being the fair thing to do."
Lifting her head and resting her chin on her palm, Emma sighed. "That's unethical too, isn't it?" Certainly a father-daughter team in a small town municipality created all types of legal and moral issues, not just bad movies.
"Not to the royals, however, those who've embraced the ideals of democracy may have issue with the entire situation," Regina explained. Young Nathan's short speech during the open forum had been quite clear. "And as we already know, Mr. French has already taken offence."
"I don't know what to do," the sheriff quietly admitted, not looking at the former mayor but blankly starring at her desk calendar. All of this was outside her scope of experience. "I'm screwed no matter who I pick," she stated with a hint of despair, looking at Regina.
"Not necessarily," the former mayor replied. Leaning over, she pulled out the folded main section of the day's Daily Mirror from her purse. "But before making any decisions, it certainly wouldn't hurt to further evaluate the candidates." Noting Emma's disbelieving look about the paper, she rolled her eyes skyward and sighed heavily. "For the last time, I didn't tell Sidney to print that story." She leaned forward and dropped the paper on the desk.
Slowly, the sheriff pulled the folded newspaper towards her and opened it, revealing a large black-and-white photo of all four candidates, their spouses and the town council. "Mayoral Debate a Success!" the headline read. The subheading said, "Surprising questions leave the candidates in a tight spot." She snorted and continued to glance through the front page articles.
Glancing down the hall, Regina spotted Ruby carrying a somewhat large box into the station. Curious, she stood up and joined the waitress at her desk.
"Hey, you'll never guess what I found at Storybrooke Sporting Goods," Ruby grinned, setting the dusty cardboard box on the desk with a heavy thunk. Its contents quietly rattled. With great excitement, she pulled open the folded flaps and exclaimed, "Clay pigeons!" She picked up a disc and handed it to the former mayor. "Mr. Hamilton said he might have a trap or two in storage. He'll let me know after the weekend."
"You certainly didn't waste any time, Miss Lucas," the former mayor commented with a soft smile. She handed the target back, and with a perplexed look, she inquired, "But why bring them here?" The bed and breakfast where the waitress had a room in the basement was much closer to the sporting goods store than the station.
Refolding the flaps, Ruby had a sheepish look as she explained, "If Granny finds them, she'll ask a million questions until finally Googling it. Then, she'll want to try it, and we won't have anything." She lifted the box and slid it under her desk to the back of the kneehole. "So, it's better if I hide the stuff." Standing back up, she smiled at Regina.
"What the hell!" Emma shrieked while hastily flipping the newspaper to another page. It was amazing she didn't rip it.
Both women immediately turned. The waitress sighed knowingly and commented, "You didn't tell her about the articles."
Nodding, the former mayor sat down in the witness chair by Ruby's desk. She gracefully crossed her legs while casually saying, "I thought it would be better for her to read it for herself." In her defense, she had hinted to Emma during breakfast that she should look at the paper.
"Probably," Ruby muttered, dropping down onto her chair and turning on her computer after unzipping her jacket. Noticing the absence of the ever-present high heels, she sassily smirked, "No more heels, huh? I was wondering why you seemed shorter."
"The Sheriff has decreed these to be my work shoes," Regina said, rolling her eyes. After the incident with Nicolas, she finally relented and dug several pairs of rarely worn flats out of the back of her closet. Emma was quite amused by it all, especially by her cashmere dress socks.
Not too surprisingly, she and Ruby settled into an easy conversation, which seemed to be happening more frequently. Their topics were gradually becoming less cliché and awkward as they learned about their shared interests. The waitress didn't fully understand how this had happened, but she ran with it. Weirdly enough, she was actually starting to like Regina—not that she'd ever personally met the infamous Evil Queen. However, she thought it best not to mention Mary Margaret or tell Mary Margaret about their camaraderie. Ever.
Occasionally, the pair would glance over at Emma, still grumbling as she continued to read the newspaper. They idly chatted until the phone rang, which Ruby cheerfully answered and effortlessly assisted the distraught citizen. Leaving the waitress to her work, Regina slipped into the sheriff's office, grabbed her laptop bag, and took over the unclaimed desk by the windows. Zoning everything else out, she continued her hunt for information on Greg Mendell—after all, she had something to prove to Ms. Swan.
Every once in a while, Ruby would glance at Regina and wonder if she'd ever get that proficient with computers. Sure, she knew her way around them but to remember all those shortcut keys? The former mayor hardly used the touchpad.
"Hey, Ruby," David greeted with a bright smile, coming around the corner into the main office area. He glanced briefly at Regina, saying nothing to her. After hanging up his leather jacket, he settled down at his desk.
Pursing her lips, the waitress glanced between the two. Sooner or later, something was going to break. She just hoped she wasn't around for it.
Hearing her deputy's voice, Emma's head shot up from reading the paper. Her eyes narrowed at his obnoxiously cheerful demeanor. Gritting her teeth, she stomped over to his desk, ignoring the two arguing townsfolk marching down the hall into the station.
"Sheriff!" one of them called out, hoping to grab the woman's attention.
"One minute," Emma briskly answered before slapping the newspaper on David's desk. "What the hell is this?" she demanded, resting her fisted hands on her hips.
Confused, the deputy shifted in his seat and briefly looked at the paper. "Today's paper," he supplied, not understanding.
Spotting the two distraught gentlemen, Ruby jumped up from her seat and approached them. "How may I help you?" she politely inquired, looking between the two men. However, the newcomers seemed distracted by the argument going on across the room between Emma and David.
"Deputy Lucas," Regina said, snapping her laptop closed and rising from her seat. "May I suggest relocating Mr. Bridges and Mr. Fletcher to the interview room until Sheriff Swan is free?" Things were perilous enough in Storybrooke without people realizing the unrest that existed within the Charming clan.
"Good idea," Ruby immediately replied. She gestured for the two men to follow her as she walked towards the storage/evidence locker/interrogation room. "The room's just over here, gentlemen. I'd be happy to take your statements."
Both men looked at each other before slowly following the waitress, occasionally looking back over their shoulder, their curiosity peaked.
Snatching back the paper, the sheriff hastily opened to the appropriate page and jabbed at the offending quote. Trying to calm down, she breathed heavily through her nose.
Leaning forward, David reread the quote and sighed. "We didn't mean anything by it, and it's obviously not what we intended," he said softly, catching a glimpse of their audience. When he looked back at his daughter, he knew she didn't believe him. "Paraphrasing gets tricky."
"It's a direct quote," Emma countered, feeling hurt enough to punch something. "From Mary Margaret," she added, crossing her arms. Shaking her head at the deputy's gaping mouth, she turned away.
Quickly standing up, the deputy gently grabbed the sheriff's biceps, forcing her to look at him. "We weren't expecting to be interviewed. It all sort of took us by surprise, and we got swept away," he said, smiling weakly.
Roughly yanking her arm free, Emma shook her head and almost growled, as she said, "That's not good enough."
Sluggishly, Mr. Bridges and Mr. Fletcher entered the interview room where Ruby waited, impatiently holding the door open for them. But once they were inside, the waitress quickly shut the door and started asking them questions.
Pointing at herself, the sheriff continued, "I'm your daughter. You're supposed to support me and encourage me—at the very least, back me up." Her eyes were watery. She couldn't hold in the hurt as she said, "I didn't even know you were running for mayor until Stephen Doggle told Regina." She took a step back, holding her hands up when David reached out for her again.
Desperate to explain, the deputy had reached out to his daughter. He thought if he could just hug her everything would be okay. "I made that decision long before you and Mary Margaret even got back. A lot happened while you were away—."
Pursing her lips, Regina glanced at the interrogation room window. Mr. Fletcher was avidly watching Emma and David while Mr. Bridges prattled on to Ruby. She glanced around. There was nowhere to go. So, she sat back down and opened her laptop.
"And you didn't tell either of us a damned thing," Emma righteously accused, her voice echoing in the office space. She had wanted to believe and trust in her father so badly. With hints of distressed sorrow, she asked, "Or was it saved for pillow talk after you two got done screwing each other?" Quickly, she stepped back again, saying, "I don't even care. I have a job to do, and so do you." Turning, she caught the former mayor's gaze and nodded towards the observation room.
Regina simply stood up and followed. Before rounding the corner into the hall, she caught David's heated glare at them both. Quietly closing the door behind her, she stood next to Emma behind the one-way glass, looking into the interrogation room. The problem between the men was thankfully an uncomplicated one.
". . . his damn cow!" cursed Sam Fletcher, pointing at his neighbor. "It trampled my fence."
Rolling his eyes, Dean Bridges nodded and explained to Ruby, "I had her tied up in the yard and she got loose. It wasn't like it was intentional." He was just glad someone was listening to him. "I only turned my back for a few minutes, and she managed to chew through the rope."
"What was a cow doing in your yard, anyway?" Fletcher demanded, crossing his arms.
"I told you, you nincompoop!" Bridges spat, glaring at his annoying neighbor. "My boy's trailer got a busted axle on his way to the vet. I was keeping her until he could hitch another to pick her up."
"Yeah, right," Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes.
Slapping the table and startling the two men, Ruby effectively stopped another bout of bickering. "This seems pretty straight forward," she commented. "I'm not sure why you had to come in." She quickly wrote down some notes on the incident form. "Since you were responsible for the cow at the time, Mr. Bridges, you are responsible for the damages—."
"Ha!" Sam merrily taunted, interrupting the waitress.
Getting red in the face, Dean instantly became flustered and stammered at Ruby, "Now, I already offered to repair the section of fence that the cow tore up." He jabbed his finger into the table top. "But I am not paying to replace the entire thing!"
The waitress cocked an eyebrow and looked to Mr. Fletcher. "Really?" she asked snarkily, not quite believing.
"It's a reasonable request," Sam said, shrugging his shoulders. "The cow managed to bend several line posts in an integral section. The whole structural integrity of the fence has been compromised."
Rolling his eyes, Mr. Bridges sneered, "Rust compromised that fence a long time ago."
"Did you happen to bring any pictures of the damage?" Ruby inquired, looking between them. When they simply shook their heads, she sighed and stood up. "Wait here," she instructed, stepping out of the room. She walked into the observation room and handed Emma the incident form.
Reading it over, the sheriff shrugged and handed the form back. "This seems pretty straight forward to me. Each of them needs to provide a statement, and cite Mr. Bridges to replace only the bent line posts."
"Alright," Ruby said, turning to leave.
Emma and Regina watched as the waitress explained what was required in their statements and how the situation was going to be resolved. Mr. Bridges was quite content, given that he'd already offered to do exactly what the sheriff ordered. However, Mr. Fletcher was a tad irritated that a "dirty troll" got away with destroying his property, but nonetheless, he followed Ruby's instructions.
"Don't tell me, Mr. Bridges is an actual troll," the sheriff deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. She looked at the former mayor expectantly.
Nodding, Regina faintly shrugged. "He is, and the cow probably was left unattended for so long because of his IBS." She paused and added, "It's not widely known that trolls suffer from it, and that it's predominantly the reason they live under bridges." She tilted her head and looked at Emma. "It's more sanitary."
Unsure how to respond, the sheriff's face contorted into several different expressions. She cleared her throat and rejoined with, "Not for the people who live downstream."
"Quite," the former mayor replied, watching the three people through the glass. "It's a chronic condition and makes them tetchy on a good day." After a few minutes of silence, she tentatively asked, "Do you want to talk about the newspaper articles?"
"Not really," Emma quickly countered. She exhaled heavily and added, "But it's messed up." Her mouth twisted as she desperately willed herself not to cry.
"Despite what Albert Spencer said, you are qualified to be sheriff," Regina said seriously. She slowly turned to face Emma but made no other move. Her brow furrowed as she confidently said, "I would've never allowed it if you weren't, Emma."
Immediately, the sheriff's gaze snapped to the former mayor's and intently studied her. She broke eye contact and looked down at her shoes. Shuffling her feet, she said, "That means a lot, Regina, considering you hate me."
"I don't hate you," the former mayor corrected. She pursed her lips for a moment, weighing her next words. "I was afraid of you." It had cost her a great deal to say it. She wrapped her arms around herself and faced the one-way glass.
Glancing over at Regina, Emma watched her for a few moments before lifting her head up as she resumed watching Ruby work. She swallowed and nervously murmured, "Thank you."
~SQ~
Closing the door to his room at the bed and breakfast, Greg Mendell breathed out a sigh of relief, dropping his duffel onto the full-size bed. He glanced around and appreciated the dim atmosphere. It suited his mood. Then, he pulled his cellphone out of his coat pocket. Scrolling through his short list of contacts, he called Her.
"Hey," Mendell said when she picked up. "Are you free to talk?" He listened as she rattled off what seemed like a hundred questions. It made him smile. "It's all good." Paranoid, he lowered his voice and moved over to the window overlooking downtown. "I think I found it," he said with a huge grin, his eyes scanning the horizon.
"Yeah," Greg responded to her excitement. "When do you think you can get up here?" He tried not to growl at her answer. "Fine," he grunted, leaning on the window frame. "I need you to transfer some money into my traveling account." He pursed his lips in thought. "About five grand should cover it." He listened to her talk for a few moments and walked back to the bed.
"That's interesting," he commented, unzipping his duffel and pulling out yesterday's newspaper. Opening it, he searched the large photo for any familiar faces. He didn't find any and tossed the paper on the bed to read later. "No, I didn't find her yet, but I will. Is the trailer ready to go? Good, good."
Greg's eyebrows rose in surprise as he continued to listen. "A trigger?" he snorted amused. This is like a bad TV show, he thought. "Did HQ specify where or what it could be?" Walking towards the door, he explained, "My car's still being worked on, waiting on a part or something. So, my mobility is pretty restricted at the moment."
"Of course," Mendell smiled, his eyes brightening. "I'll be careful." He paused for a moment and added, "I'm going to do some exploring until you get here." His brow furrowed as he listened to her. Then, he sneered, but the look quickly faded as he said, "I love you, too."
Ending the call, Greg returned the phone to his pocket and glanced around the room one more time. If this was going to be home for a while longer, he was going to need a few more supplies from his car. Hopefully, they were still in his trunk and undamaged. Opening the door and locking it behind him, he left to start his real work.
~SQ~
Slamming shut the driver's side door, Sheriff Swan stared over the roof of the cruiser at the former mayor. "I still don't understand why you wanted us to take this call," she grumbled, still highly annoyed. "We could be home learning magic or watching TV." Or just relaxing, she thought.
Regina rolled her eyes as she stepped onto the sidewalk. As she waited for Emma to join her, she sighed. "You're far too emotional for any magical training," she explained, again.
Practically stomping onto the sidewalk, Emma firmly responded, "I'm not emotional. I'm perturbed." As Regina raised her eyebrows and tilted her head with a slight smirk, Emma immediately pursed her lips and harrumphed, heading towards the reported address.
"Same difference, Dear," the former mayor commented, following. She glanced up at the sky and noted the thickening, greying clouds creeping overhead.
"Whatever," the sheriff mumbled, knowing the former mayor was right. She looked around for any sign of the alleged noise disturbance. Stopping in front of a large, rundown Victorian-style house, she tilted her head and listened. "I'm not hearing anything." Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.
The pair climbed a small set of steps up to the house's front porch. Emma pressed the doorbell with a scowl firmly in place, wondering if this was another false alarm. However, her annoyance was quickly forgotten when a rather tall, muscular man with light brown hair in a hairnet wearing a severely faded and stained t-shirt, washed-out jeans with a few rips around the knees, heavy, black boots and a very clean, frilly pastel apron answered the door.
"Yeah?" the man grunted, narrowing his hazel eyes suspiciously. "What seems to be the problem, Sheriff?" When his gaze drifted to his right and instantly recognized the former mayor, his mouth gaped slightly before he spluttered, "Your Majesty, err Madam Mayor?" He quickly pushed the screen door open and gestured for both women to enter, bowing slightly. "Please, come in."
"Thank you, Monty," the former mayor said graciously, stepping over the threshold.
Confused, albeit highly amused, Emma followed Regina inside, smirking as several grown men hurriedly fumbled about, straightening up the place. Not that it would do much good, the place wasn't filthy, per say, just old, in need of some serious TLC and perhaps some furniture that wasn't found on the curb.
Monty Elmwood quickly took off his apron and hairnet. Passing them to a lanky Bruce Farmer, he quickly whispered something and pointed towards the kitchen.
A rather surly looking Bobby Milton with a long salt-and-pepper ponytail and a predominately round belly opened his mouth to address Regina but stopped himself, snapping his mouth shut. His brow furrowed in intense consideration. Wordlessly, he gestured to a wingback armchair that someone else had hastily covered with a plush maroon blanket to hide the stained upholstery. "Forgive me," he said, his voice a low, rumbling timbre. "I'm uncertain as to the proper protocol for addressing you, Your Majesty."
Emma would've laughed if the room wasn't full with so many rough-looking men, even a few teenage boys. There had to be at least fifteen of them cramming into the living room or leaning in from the various doorways, blocking every avenue of escape. Suddenly, she started to feel very uncomfortable. She glanced at Regina as she dropped down onto the sofa, next to the former mayor.
"Back up," ordered Monty at everyone, taking a tea service from Bruce and carrying it to the coffee table. "We shall address Her Majesty as we always have, Bobby—with respect," he said firmly, gently placing the tray on the table. He glared over his shoulder at the loiterers, sending them all scurrying from the living room.
The sheriff frowned, watching this Elmwood guy prepare the former mayor's tea. She couldn't get over his precise and fluid movements. How did he know what Regina liked in her tea, anyway?
"I apologize, Ma'am," Monty explained, sliding a homemade cookie onto Regina's saucer before passing it to her. "We've been quite," he paused and glanced at Emma before continuing, "anxious to resume our service." Wordlessly pouring another cup of tea, he politely offered it to Emma.
Offering a slight smile in thanks, the sheriff accepted the cup and took a tentative sip. She shuddered at the bitterness and proceeded to spoon sugar into her brew.
After a sip, the former mayor firmly reminded, "We've already discussed this, Monty." Frowning slightly at Emma, her gaze shifted back to Monty as she lightly inquired, "Has the new arrangement been unsatisfactory?"
"Of course not, Your Majesty," Elmwood stammered, sitting down on a mismatched sofa across from the sheriff. He was slightly put off by his queen's composed demeanor. His eyes cut to Emma, and he sighed. Her presence certainly made this conversation unnecessarily difficult. Squaring his shoulders, he boldly stated, "We're concerned about recent developments."
The sheriff grabbed a cookie and promptly ate half of it. "These are really good," she complimented while chewing and pretending not to be listening. But of course, she was.
"Thank you, Sheriff," Monty replied out of politeness, growing annoyed by Emma's mere presence. "I baked them myself," he stated brusquely then paused and added, "from scratch." No manners, he thought, frowning.
If there was a message in his words, the sheriff blatantly ignored it while nodding her appreciation for the treat as she finished her cookie and promptly took another off the tray.
Sighing, Regina took a sip of her own tea. "Then what, precisely, are your concerns, Monty?" she asked before nibbling on her own cookie. They really were quite good.
"Forgive me," he said, bringing his gaze back to the former mayor. He softly explained, "I don't feel comfortable discussing such matters in the sheriff's company." Watching out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emma swipe another cookie. He scowled and narrowed his eyes. She was just like Bobby.
Setting her cup and saucer on the coffee table, the former mayor frowned and glanced between the two. Her eyes cut across the room, catching several others still lingering. She pursed her lips, realizing she had to tell them. These were some of her most trusted and loyal guards—several of whom had been with her since the wedding, like Monty Elmwood. Leaning back, she linked her hands over her lap, weighing her options and their consequences.
Looking between Regina and Monty, Emma finished her last cookie and downed the rest of her tea. Who were these people? Was Regina going to tell them? She swallowed at Elmwood's piercing glower. How were they going to react to it? Not well, she mused.
"There has been an unforeseen development," Regina explained, not looking at anyone directly but simply staring at the tea service. This had to be handled delicately.
Listening to his unusually calm queen, Monty waited, locking his gaze onto the sheriff. He didn't know what was going on; however, he figured it had something to do with Emma Swan or her family. He leaned forward, ready to expel the offensive interloper upon the order.
Frowning under Elmwood's heated glare, the sheriff's brow furrowed. Uneasy, she shifted in her seat, catching the curious looks from the guys around the dining room table in the next room. "Um," she rasped, glancing around again with wide eyes, "it was a total accident."
Not appreciating the declaration, Monty immediately tensed, his large hands gripping the ripped fabric of his jeans. Still, he waited.
Sighing and momentarily ignoring Emma, Regina calmly said, "Inadvertently, Miss Swan magically bound us."
Swallowing, Emma pressed herself back against the sofa already planning a countermove but Monty didn't budge. He didn't even blink, which was rather unnerving.
"Please elaborate, Ma'am," Elmwood respectfully requested. His magical knowledge may be limited, but he wasn't a fool. He would always wait for his queen's order.
"As the sheriff stated, it was an accident on her part," the former mayor replied. She leaned forward, refreshing her cup of tea. Fixing it, she continued, "She was tricked by Mr. Gold." She ignored Monty's low, soft growl. His hatred of the imp was well known.
"What exactly does this mean?" Monty asked. His eyes moved back to his queen, his gaze full of compassion. He had hoped this place would bring her peace.
"It means," Regina drawled, "that we're tethered to each other with a grand distance of twelve feet." She met his gaze and knew he understood the ramifications.
Solemnly, Elmwood nodded as he accepted her words as truth, but he clearly didn't like it. If she could've freed herself, she would've done it by now. Emma Swan was apparently a fool, much like her parents.
Relief washed over Emma as she watched Monty back down, but she still saw the accusations in his eyes. Who is he? she wondered again. Relaxing slowly, she sheepishly smiled and grabbed another cookie. She deserved it.
With a scathing comment resting on his tongue, Elmwood ignored the urge to say it and turned his attention away from the sheriff. Nothing would come from provoking his queen's anger. He asked, "What would you have of us, Your Majesty?"
Regina pursed her lips. "Drop the titles," she remarked, sipping her tea. She was tired of having this conversation with them. "There are no royals here."
Smirking at the former mayor, Monty scoffed, "The mayoral debate proves otherwise."
Amused, Regina cocked an eyebrow, looking at Emma over her tea cup. "That may very well be the case. However, old world values won't stand unchallenged for much longer." The board was set and the game was already afoot. She'd be damned if she was going to lose this time. "And there's another avenue of authority to ensure equality."
Quickly, the sheriff looked between the former mayor and Elmwood, her apprehension returning. "Wait, what?" she asked slightly confused. "I'm just the sheriff."
"Exactly," agreed the former mayor. "In this world, that position offers you and those under you a considerable degree of autonomy." Finishing her tea, she returned her cup to the service. "Why do you think people are so interested in your choice for the new mayor?"
"Yeah," Emma scoffed, rolling her eyes. "The mayor will still control my budget and can easily make my life hell." She pointedly glared at Regina.
"Then pick someone who will give you what you want," Monty supplied, understanding. If the ideas of democracy appealed to him, then it must certainly appeal to others—and not just the animal folk.
Shaking her head, the sheriff said, "That's not how it's supposed to work." She grabbed another cookie.
Regina sighed, slightly exasperated. "Being raised in this world, you of all people should understand the occasional necessity of the behind-the-scenes dealings and under-the-table maneuvering." She rubbed her left temple. In another life, she had painfully learned these lessons. After all, a kingdom under her rule prospered in spite of her being labeled evil. It was how she held onto half of Leopold's kingdom after being banished by Snow White. "You've certainly witnessed how one group can easily overpower others."
"But," Emma started then stopped and finished her cookie. She looked down at her empty hands. Part of her realized Regina was right. People did it all the time. She sighed, feeling despondent. "I don't know who to pick."
"Perhaps you should ask yourself who you don't want, first," the former mayor gently suggested. Her choice to pick someone other than David had to be her own idea.
Confused, Monty's brow furrowed, looking between the two women. This was a queer turn of events, Regina demonstrating great patience in guiding Emma. However, he would always respect his queen's wishes, even if that meant tolerating Emma Swan.
Suddenly, the tranquil silence of the neighborhood was assaulted by a wailing electric guitar, drums and, eventually, a bass guitar. The entire house shook as the tea service rattled on top of the coffee table, although no one could hear it over the noise.
"That's probably why you were called," shouted Monty, standing. He motioned for the two women to follow him towards the back of the house. Casually, he pointed for Bruce to clear the coffee table.
Yup, Emma thought as she walked through the kitchen, feeling the vibrations through the floor. This was why five people called about a noise disturbance in the middle of the day. Upon exiting the back door, she laughed at the handful of guys playing in the garage. She watched as Monty walked up to them and pointed behind him, drawing their attention to her and Regina. She frowned, however, when they stopped and Regina clapped. Dogs were barking in the distance.
"I can appreciate all music," the former mayor easily supplied, sparing an amused glance at Emma's surprise.
Shaking her head, the sheriff turned back to observe as the garage band stowed their instruments. "They don't have to stop playing," she called out. "Just turn it down so the houses don't shake." She'd have to research the appropriate decibel levels for the suburbs. Maybe she could get the former mayor to do it. "This is Maine, not LA. People aren't used to earthquakes," she added cheekily.
Chuckling, the drummer gave Emma a punch-line drum fill, amusing everyone. The musicians dutifully made some adjustments to their equipment and started playing at a much more tolerable level for an in-town garage band. The music was still rather loud when standing in the driveway a few feet from the garage. Emma felt the vibrations in her gut, but it was more than an acceptable volume level. Nodding at Monty, she grinned and gave a thumbs-up. This would work and keep everyone happy—or so she hoped as she got into the band's tune.
"It's about time someone came out here!" bellowed Theodore Johnston, stomping up the driveway while carrying his chihuahua. His eyes immediately locked onto the sheriff. "I've been calling for months about these hoodlums." He angrily pointed at the garage.
Taking a step towards his bastard neighbor, Elmwood's nostrils flared, but he stopped when the former mayor gently touched his arm. He scowled but obediently stepped back. His eyes shifted toward the sheriff, not trusting her.
Pursing her lips, Emma moved to halt Theodore's approach. She calmly said, "The situation is under control, Mr. Johnston. There's really no reason for you to get involved."
"It's not resolved," blustered Theodore, pointing at the garage with his free hand. "These people are a menace. I demand they be relocated." He stopped and glared at Monty. "Or jailed," he added.
By this time, the musicians had stepped out of the garage and were standing behind Regina and Monty.
Smiling, the sheriff continued, "I realize their practice has been a little loud in the past, but I've talked with them. I think we can reach a happy medium."
"They make noise all blasted day," barked Johnston. He cuddled his dog against his chest. Looking down at the chihuahua, he cooed, "Duchess has gotten an ulcer from their unholy racket." He scratched the dog under her chin.
Emma's eyebrows shot up. She hated chihuahuas. Hearing someone snort, she glanced over her shoulder.
The bass guitar player, who had short sandy blonde hair, snickered and said, "Maybe if you didn't treat the dog like a fashion accessory, she'd have more confidence and not twitch at every twitter of a bird."
Theodore's face turned bright red as he breathed heavily through his nose. "Duchess is a delicate creature," he proclaimed. "Of course, a social delinquent like you wouldn't understand the complexities of caring for such a being." He absently nestled the dog under his chin.
Seeing the guitar player take a step forward, the sheriff immediately stepped between the two, holding her hands up. The chihuahua air-snapped and growled at her hand. Frowning, she said, "There's no reason for anyone to get worked up." Looking between the two men, she added, "A complaint was issued and it has been resolved."
"So you're going to relocate them?" Johnston asked, eyeing the weather-worn house with distaste. He considered the prospect of buying the property, bulldozing it and expanding his garden.
"No," Emma replied, facing the idiot with the dog. "They haven't done anything wrong." Technically given the town's noise ordinance, the band could rock all they like between the hours of 6 am to 10 pm. She elaborated, crossing her arms, "As a courtesy, I simply asked them to turn it down. They agreed; end of story."
"I see," sneered Theodore. He was clearly disappointed as well as angry. "Well," he sniffed haughtily, "I suppose I'll simply call your father." With his threat made, he turned on his heel and sashayed down the driveway. "He'll certainly know how to deal with these ruffians."
Angry, the sheriff gritted her teeth and stomped forward, but a gentle grip on her elbow gave her pause. She turned and saw the former mayor shaking her head. With a long sigh, she glared at Johnston until he disappeared around a corner.
"Man, what a douchebag," commented the sandy haired bass guitarist, walking towards the garage.
"Diego," snapped Monty appalled, his eyes cutting towards Regina who just rolled her eyes.
Emma snorted, resting her hands on her hips. "No arguments here," she said with a smirk.
After a shrug, the drummer grinned and explained, "Mr. Johnston may just be worried about his carnival glass collection. It's housed in an antique curio cabinet, and the houses in this neighborhood do have very uneven floors."
"When the hell were you in his house, Alex?" asked the lead guitarist with a scowl, grabbing the drummer's arm and dragging him towards the garage.
Monty rolled his eyes skyward, sighing heavily.
Flinching at his brother's tone, Alex allowed himself to be pulled away. He waved at the former mayor and sheriff before saying, "I helped Mrs. Johnston carry in groceries a few times. She's super nice."
Intrigued, the sheriff's gaze darted around, watching everyone.
Both were in the garage when Alex's brother ordered, "I want you to stay away from the Johnstons, Alex."
Unable to contain her amusement any longer, Emma chuckled and shook her head. She smiled as she asked Regina, "Who are these people?"
Looking at Elmwood fondly, the former mayor gave him an honest smile as she answered, "Some of my most trusted guard."
Just as the sheriff was about to ask another question, the band started playing again, and Bobby Milton came out of the house with a handful of cookies.
"It's still hard to believe Theodore's actually married to a woman," Bobby commented, joining the three in the middle of the driveway. He stuffed an entire cookie in his mouth and offered some to Regina and Emma.
"Thanks," the sheriff eagerly acknowledged, taking two. "These are so good," she cooed, before taking a bite. She smirked as the former mayor easily accepted one.
"I hope you left some for the others," Monty scolded, knowing the cookies were more than likely already gone.
As if a peace offering, Milton offered the last cookie to Elmwood. "As soon as Bruce put the tray down, they were gone." He smiled.
Taking the cookie, Monty shook his head and muttered, "The more things change…."
Quickly finishing her second cookie, Emma decided to go for broke. "So, you're all guards?"
Bobby harrumphed. "Guards," he disgustedly scoffed, shaking his head. He brushed the cookie crumbs off his belly. The term was demeaning.
Rolling her eyes, Regina elegantly gestured towards Monty and formally introduced him. "Montague Elmwood, my Captain of the Guard." Pointing at Bobby, she said, "My first lieutenant, Robert Milton."
Immediately, both men snapped to attention, clicking their booted heels together, and gave the sheriff a slight bow. It was rather comical from two guys in stained t-shirts and ripped jeans.
Listening, Emma could easily sense the pride Regina had in these people. She effortlessly rattled off the names of the three jamming in the garage: The base guitarist was Diego Flores. The drummer was Alexander Sirtis, and his older brother, Jason, was the lead guitarist. They obviously meant a great deal to her and vice versa.
And in typical Emma Swan fashion, she blurted out the first question that came to mind. "If you're her guards, why didn't you save her from that mob when the curse broke?" Mary Margaret had sworn that Regina didn't have any allies in Storybrooke. She also had accused the Evil Queen of taking all of the hearts from those who served her. Instantly, she regretted asking.
"Oh, brother," Bobby muttered, rolling his eyes as Monty scowled. He absently drummed on his belly to Alex's beat. "Well, you'd already gotten there and whisked her away to the jail." He shrugged, glancing briefly at Monty.
The sheriff nodded, taking note of the intense staring contest between the former mayor and Elmwood. She wouldn't think a queen would tolerate such behavior, especially an evil one. "I promised Henry I'd make sure she was okay," she explained, glancing between everyone.
"What's done is done," Regina solemnly intoned, turning away from Monty and walking down the driveway, signaling the matter closed. She hadn't always dealt with the consequences of her life very well. She was still alive, but certain pains refused to leave her, which continually clouded her judgment.
Emma was quick to fall into step beside the former mayor. Curiously, she looked over her shoulder at Monty and Bobby, studying their reactions to the sudden departure.
"We shall not abandon our posts, Ma'am," Elmwood called out over the music. Preparing for a fight, he lifted his chin and squared his shoulders as his queen stopped. Thrice she had offered them their freedom, and each time, they remained.
The sheriff skidded to a halt, avidly watching the former mayor's profile. Her brow furrowed as she attempted to discern what was going on or going to happen next. It was strangely exciting.
Her gaze dropping down to the cracked asphalt of the drive, Regina took a slow breath. She half turned and looked back at her captain. If he hadn't yet, she knew Monty would never leave her. Death would take him first. She searched his eyes. Without looking, she knew Bobby felt the same and, undoubtedly, so would the others. She still, after all this time, didn't understand it, but she would honor it. Slowly bowing her head, she signaled her acceptance, turned away again and resumed walking.
Confused, Emma quickly looked between the former mayor and the two men. She tilted her head and pursed her lips as she again pondered these guards. Questions came to mind as she discovered even more contradictions between what she was told and what she knew versus what she'd learned about Regina Mills. All of it was going to make her head explode.
Elmwood and Milton seemed very pleased, if their grins were anything to go by.
"Miss Swan," Regina called when the prickling sensation started. She looked over her shoulder and gestured towards the cruiser. "If you're ready to leave...," she trailed off as Emma jogged towards her.
Out of the corner of the sheriff's eye, a guy wearing a jean jacket leaning against the railing of the front porch caught her attention. Slowing to a walk, she squinted to examine the large graphic on the back of his jacket. It consisted of three nested squares with white outlines broken into quarters and flames rising from a white bar above them. In the center, and overlapping the quartered squares, was a bird with its wings extended in flight. It looked like maybe a raven or a crow. The entire thing was encased on a solid black field with a banner above that read 'Storybrooke' and another banner below which read 'Crows Guard.' It reminded Emma of the sort of heraldry she'd seen in movies.
Rounding the corner onto the sidewalk, Emma snorted when she noticed a couple of motorcycles parked on the street. "How'd I miss that?" she mused, getting into the cruiser and fastening her seatbelt. She smirked at Regina and said, "Storybrooke has a motorcycle gang."
"Yes," the former mayor agreed dryly, looking at Emma. Cocking an eyebrow, she returned the smirk. "You've been sheriff for a year-and-a-half, now, and you just noticed. Why am I not surprised?" she baited.
Starting the car, the sheriff rolled her eyes and muttered, "Whatever."
~SQ~
"Okay, I can do this," Emma told herself as she softly repeated the words. With her eyes squeezed shut, she stood with her feet shoulder-width apart and her hands in tight fists at her sides. She concentrated on focusing her magic, feeling it coiling around her. "I can do this, I can do this..."
"Sometime today would be preferable," Regina quipped, standing directly across from Emma with her arms crossed. She rolled her eyes at being shushed. Sighing, she walked over to the gazebo and promptly sat down, crossing her legs. She fished out her leather gloves from a pocket while looking up at the dark cloudy sky.
An unseasonably late winter storm was creeping towards Maine at a snail's pace. And still, none of the meteorologists would predict its course, opting just to warn the coastal states to be prepared for a wintery mix. It was highly infuriating, as was watching Emma Swan attempt to transform into anything.
With a bored sigh, the former mayor crossed her arms after putting on her gloves, knowing she wouldn't be able to sit on the cold metal chair for long. Occasionally, a breeze would pick up and cause her to shiver. She flipped her coat collar up. Then, she noticed Henry coming around the side of the house, jogging towards her.
With only a light blue hoodie to stave off the cold, the boy glanced at the sheriff curiously as he passed her. He came to a stop beside his mother and said, "The timer for the chicken went off. I turned off the oven like you asked."
"Thank you," Regina responded, still glaring at Emma.
"What's she doing?" Henry asked, turning with his brow furrowed.
"Nothing, at the moment," the former mayor snarked. "Nor for the last forty minutes, for that matter," she dryly added.
"Damn it, Regina," the sheriff snapped, her concentration broken. "I'm trying!"
"Doubtful. You heard Henry mention chicken and, as usual, your stomach took over," Regina explained with a disgusted tone and a dismissive wave of her hand. She smiled, though, as the boy giggled. She'd missed that sound. However, the mother and son moment was not appreciated by all.
"I don't know what I'm doing," Emma whined in her defense. She was frustrated, tired and hungry. To add insult to injury, she hadn't had the best day, either. Her father had been sulky since their argument the other day at the station. Mary Margaret had been blowing her phone up with texts, calls and voice mails. It was highly annoying, not to mention stressful.
"I tried—." Once again, the former mayor attempted to offer assistance. She had also tried to explain to Emma that she wasn't quite ready for this particular subject. The savior could hardly maintain a flaming sword, for crying out loud!
"I know," the sheriff snarled, cutting the former mayor off. She started pacing the length of her magical tether.
Henry looked between his two mothers. "What's the lesson today?" he softly inquired, not wanting to unintentionally provoke them into a fight. After all, they were quite good at that when left to their own devices.
Pinching the bridge of her nose to stave off an impending headache, Regina held the pressure as she answered, "Transformation." She hadn't even wanted Emma to attempt magic, given her high emotional state for the last few days, but the sheriff had doggedly insisted, siting protecting Henry from Cora. Lowering her hand, she noted the boy's silent question and clarified, "It's the ability to change in appearance or even species."
Instantly, Henry's eyes lit up. "So, Emma could be a dog?" he asked excitedly. The idea of having a dog that wouldn't make a mess in the house was awesome. "Like a Golden Retriever?"
"Yes," the former mayor answered, highly amused by the boy's rather innocent, if not timely, suggestion. Her gaze cut over to the sheriff who was glowering.
"Come on, Emma, do it. We can play fetch!" Henry suggested. He scoured the hedge for a stick.
Chuckling softly at the sheriff's stricken expression, the former mayor rose, asking, "May I assist you now?" She understood Emma's desire to decipher the process on her own, but self-tutelage could easily lead one astray.
"Okay," Emma relented with a defeated shrug. She listened as Regina again explained the transformation process. It was frustrating being so dependent, knowing that she wouldn't truly understand until Regina guided her magic as she had with the flaming stick last week.
"I shall demonstrate," the former mayor said before being swallowed by a plume of purple smoke.
Waving her hands to try and disperse the cloud, the sheriff heard a meow. She looked down to see an all brown cat with deep gold eyes. "Regina?" she squeaked and instinctively reached down to pet the animal. However, her hand stopped at the low growl. "Okay, okay, no touching," she chuckled.
"Is that Mom?" Henry asked, returning to his mothers after finding a suitable stick in the side yard.
Suddenly, the brown cat was enveloped in another purple fog, revealing Regina. "Did you adequately observe the process?" she immediately asked.
"Yeah, I think so," Emma answered unconvincingly. She was starting to feel inadequate—especially since Regina made it seem so simple. And she didn't want to mention that she was still having difficulties seeing the magic. That was like Lesson One stuff.
The former mayor pursed her lips, sensing the sheriff's doubt. "Would you permit me to transform you?" she asked.
With a very skeptical expression, Emma nodded then frowned when Henry excitedly suggested a dog again. Before she could suggest another animal, however, the former mayor did a small gesture with her hand, and Emma found herself surrounded by purple. She panicked briefly before her vision cleared and she was able to see Henry and Regina again.
For a brief moment, the sheriff wondered why they were taller than her. That was when she looked down and saw two golden, fur covered paws. If she crossed her eyes, she could see a large black nose at the end of a long snout. "Damn it, Henry!" she cursed.
Of course, all the former mayor and the boy heard were a few grumbling barks.
"See the stick, Emma?" Henry asked, shaking it before her. "Go get it!" he shouted, throwing the branch across the yard. He frowned when the dog didn't move and jogged off to retrieve it himself.
The Golden Retriever gazed up at Regina with imploring amber eyes. "Change me back," she pleaded. It manifested as a slow tail wag and a soft whine.
Knowing she shouldn't but unable to help herself, the former mayor covered her mouth with her hand to hide a very amused smirk. However, her eyes clearly signaled her mirth as the dog started barking at her.
Having grabbed his stick, the boy walked up to Regina and asked, "Why is she just standing there?"
The former mayor cleared her throat as she dropped her hand and replied, "A very good question." She made a vague gesture and suggested, "Maybe you should try moving around a bit and get familiar with a different body."
Huffing, the Golden Retriever hesitantly lifted a front paw. She twisted to watch herself lift a rear paw. This process continued and the dog felt quite accomplished until she heard Henry laughing at her. "Knock it off, Kid," she demanded, but her irritated barks only made him laugh more.
"Go on, keep trying," Regina instructed with an encouraging tone. "You're doing quite well." It wasn't an easy task.
Sighing, the dog did as she was told and gradually started walking around the pair, her movements uncoordinated and jerky. It was akin to a puppy or a dog walking in booties.
"Why are her legs going up so high?" Henry snickered. He snaked his hand into his mother's coat pocket and pulled out her iPhone. Entering his birthday, he quickly pulled up the camera and snapped a few pictures.
"She's relearning to walk," the former mayor replied, watching as the Golden Retriever now proudly pranced around them in a wide circle. She smiled as the dog found a more natural gait and eventually started running.
This is kind of fun, Emma thought as she zoomed around, having a grand time. She'd expected the experience to be restrictive, to feel less, somehow, but in fact, it was quite freeing. Is this how Ruby felt during wolf's time?
Stowing his mother's phone in his coat pocket, the boy laughed and waved the stick at the dog. "Here, Emma, go fetch" he ordered, throwing the stick across the yard.
"No, Emma!" Regina cried, but it was too late. The Golden Retriever was already in pursuit of the branch as it sailed through the air. She tried to run after the dog but a sheering pain struck her hard in the chest, causing her to stumble and groan.
Releasing a heartbreakingly sharp yelp, the dog collapsed onto the ground almost twenty feet away. She valiantly attempted to crawl towards the former mayor, desperate to stop the pain.
"I'm so sorry," Henry cried out, watching his mothers limp and crawl towards each other. He ran between them unsure of what to do or who to help.
Within the safe distance from each other, Regina waved her hand and released Emma's form. The residual effects of the pain lingered as she helped Emma to stand. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice strained.
"Yeah," the sheriff responded hoarsely, nodding with tears in her eyes. She glanced over at the boy and offered a weak smile. "Not the smartest idea, Kid," she smirked in spite of her heavy breathing.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, looking down at the ground.
Emma put her hands on his shoulders and gave him a sincere smile. "Hey. It's not your fault. Okay? I guess I got too carried away." She ducked her head a little to catch his downcast eyes. "I'm the one who's supposed to pay attention to where I'm going."
"We all need to be more aware of our limitations," the former mayor said, brushing off the incident. If the boy's expression was any indication, he was punishing himself enough. After readjusting her jacket, she picked bits of grass off the sheriff. "Are you ready to try again?"
"Um, don't you think that was enough excitement for one day?" Emma narrowed her eyes at Regina, pondering her angle. She briefly glanced at Henry's hurt expression and sighed. "Okay, what's next?"
"I'll guide your magic through the process," Regina answered, her hand gently cupping Emma's left biceps. She instructed, "Envision the animal you wish to become."
The sheriff nodded. Wondering when she started trusting the former mayor so effortlessly, she tried to shake the wayward thought out of her mind.
"Focus, Miss Swan," the former mayor lightly scolded, sensing the erratic magic.
"Right. Sorry," Emma mumbled. Briefly, she searched Regina's eyes, and coupled with the now familiar sensation of their mingling magic, she found herself relaxing and responding to the gentle directions. As her eyes drifted closed, she ignored the shift in physical sensation, focusing instead on the absence of Regina's hand on her arm.
"Nicely done," the former mayor praised. She paused before saying, "Miss Swan." She cleared her throat at Henry's snicker.
"Swan," the boy giggled, pulling out the iPhone again. This time he was videoing.
"Huh?" Blinking, the sheriff looked around and took notice of Henry. "Not cool, Kid," she fussed, but of course, it came out as a loud honk. The sound startled her, and she instinctively flapped her wings. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, honking wildly.
And, that was it. Regina couldn't contain the laughter any longer, nor did she try to hide it.
Henry took several steps back to get both his mothers in frame. He smiled. It had been a long time since he heard his mom laugh so much.
Naturally, Emma wasn't amused. "Stop laughing," she demanded, stretching her neck out. "It's not that funny, damn it." She spread out her wings and flapped.
To the former mayor, the swan's honks came out loud and strangely indigent, causing her to laugh even harder, especially when Emma's wings started flapping. She pointed at the distressed water fowl and said to Henry, "Emma's a swan princess." With that, all dignity was thrown out the window as she snorted with laughter.
Of course, Henry giggled in response, still recording. His happiness ebbed, however, when the swan ambled towards him. Its head swayed back and forth like a snake ready to strike. "Ah, Mom," he called. "I don't think she's happy."
"Of course not, she turned herself into a swan," Regina quipped as she delicately wiped at her eyes. As if realizing her son had her phone for the first time, she asked with a devilish glint, "Are you taking pictures of this?"
Suddenly more annoyed by the former mayor than her son, the swan turned away from the boy recording and hissed menacingly at Regina, purposefully waddling towards her.
Henry chuckled as he watched Emma's tail. However, his mirth disappeared when the swan started nipping at Regina's pants. He kept recording.
"Stop it, Emma," Regina scolded the swan, taking a step away. "You're going to put a hole in my pants." This, of course, did nothing to dissuade the bird from its mission. She gently attempted to push the swan's head away but its long neck merely snaked around her arms, grabbing a glove instead. "Ow!" she cried as a glove was roughly ripped off her hand. "Give that back," she demanded, trotting across the yard in pursuit of the bird.
Now, Emma was having fun as she bobbed and weaved around the yard. Her long neck helped to keep the captured leather glove just out of Regina's reach.
The phone shook as Henry tried not to laugh as his mother chased a slightly muffled, trumpeting swan across the back yard, yelling. He was also glad to be recording it for posterity—or blackmail. "No, don't come over here," he laughed as the swan tried to use him as a shield. Quickly, he backed up into the gazebo.
With Emma distracted by the boy, Regina managed to snatch the glove out of her mouth with a victorious, "Ah ha!"
Of course, Emma took offense to this sneak attack and loudly proclaimed her displeasure with a series of honks.
"Inelegant as always, Miss Swan," the former mayor said cheekily after inspecting the leather glove for damage. Slipping it back on, she asked, "Would you like to transform back, now?" She watched as the swan moved its head up and down. "Then do it," she instructed.
The swan flapped her wings repeatedly and honked at Regina.
"I don't think she knows how, Mom," the boy supplied, walking around to the side of them.
"She does," the former mayor affirmed, glancing at Henry and frowning. "You're still recording?" she asked tentatively.
"Yup," Henry smiled. As soon as this was all over, he already planned to bolt to his room and copy the videos off the iPhone. This was definitely going on YouTube—Facebook at the very least.
"I don't know how to change back," Emma whined in a series of honks. "Change me back!" She hated this transformation crap, although it did have its perks. She did get to hear the former mayor laugh.
Sighing, Regina refocused on the swan and could sense Emma's rising distress. "Calm down, Emma." She smirked as the bird resettled her wings. "Now, it's exactly like dispelling a flame..."
For the life of her, the sheriff tried to follow the former mayor's instructions. She really did, but she was distracted by this overwhelming desire to preen. It only further frustrated her. Listening to Regina speak, she settled down on the ground and tried again. She could do this. She would do this. Vaguely, she registered Henry saying something. Then, she felt Regina's hand and the connection between their magic. When she opened her eyes, she knew she was human again.
"Give me that phone," Emma barked, lunging for the boy, her arms open wide to grab him. However, she didn't account for sitting cross-legged on the cold ground and she ended up falling flat on her face.
Regardless, Henry proved too quick and bolted for the house, laughing gleefully.
"I think that's enough for today," Regina said with a smile, offering a hand to Emma.
Readily accepting the help up, the sheriff brushed herself off while muttering, "I guess we should be glad he doesn't really have friends." She frowned as her stomach growled. "How long before dinner?" she asked, following the former mayor towards the house.
"Not long, Miss Swan," Regina smirked at Emma's groan. "Too soon?" she baited.
Rolling her eyes, the sheriff good-naturally grumbled, "Never would be too soon." She grinned at the former mayor's soft chuckle.
~SQ~
The novel was really getting interesting, as the plot spanning three books was finally coming together. Regina quickly turned the page and frowned at seeing the end of the chapter. She briskly flipped through the pages, scanning the length of the next one. Glancing at the clock, she pursed her lips while gauging her degree of sleepiness. She could possibly finish the next chapter, but more than likely, Emma would strike up a conversation as soon as the light went out. Looking over at the back of her bedmate, she quietly contemplated reading the next chapter but thought better of it. She closed her book, stowing it and her reading glasses on her nightstand.
Not thirty seconds after the light was off, Emma uncertainly asked, "Mind if we talk for a bit?" She knew Regina was tired. Heck, she was exhausted, but she needed to talk about her decision.
"What's on your mind?" the former mayor quietly responded, starring at the ceiling. She knew it was going to happen.
Sighing, the sheriff rolled onto her back and turned her head to study Regina's profile. "I'm going to endorse Mitchell Herman for mayor."
"A sensible choice," Regina agreed. She was voting the same. "But?" she prompted.
"I don't know how to tell David," Emma admitted, feeling accountable to anyone was still alien to her. On several levels, she didn't like it. "Or Mary Margaret," she added.
"You could always text them," the former mayor offered, not particularly caring.
Dragging a hand down her face, the sheriff groaned. She wouldn't admit the same thought had crossed her mind. Instead, she said, "Not helpful, Regina."
"Tell him the same way you just told me," Regina supplied. It was a simple solution, but she knew all too well how a little well-played guilt from parents worked.
Playing with the blanket, the sheriff muttered, "Easier said than done." She mentally made plans to call Gene Gatsby in the morning. Looking at the former mayor, she asked, "Do you really think people will vote for Herman just because I say I am?"
"Yes," Regina answered, rolling onto her side to face Emma. She'd been trying to bring the topic up since the blowout at the station. "You're in a very unique position. Your involvement in this misguided community of unique characters encompasses multiple groups."
Snorting, Emma rolled her eyes, saying jokingly, "Good and evil." Henry and her parents had mercilessly to drill the concept into her head. To her, it seemed that's all they cared about, what column you were in.
The former mayor frowned. In a slow drawl, she replied, "No, I was insinuating more along the lines of rich and poor, animal and human, peasant and noble, even the elderly and disabled." She paused and added, "Mr. Flint's words and sentiment were important the other night."
Biting her lip, Emma wished the bed would swallow her. "I'm sorry," she said. Her mouth opened and closed, wanting to say more but not knowing what.
"Don't be," Regina whispered, her gaze staring blankly over Emma's shoulder. Clearing her throat, she continued, "The wishy-washy rhetoric is shouted so loudly and vehemently that everyone believes it at some point." She had no doubt Emma would've mindlessly fallen into the same trap if not for their current predicament.
Her brow furrowed for a moment, but the sheriff decided to leave the matter alone. "Would you be willing to sit in during my interview with that reporter, Gene Gatsby?"
"Do you believe that's wise?"
"I've already been accused of being unqualified by Albert Spencer and unduly influenced by malevolent forces by my own parents," Emma explained. She could deal with Spencer's two-bit opinion. No, it was her own supposedly loving parents who had deeply cut her. "To top it off, Gold basically told me I'm replaceable." She searched Regina's face, her eyes having long ago adjusted to the dim light. I feel like I'm drowning, she thought.
With her eyes starting to feel heavy, the former mayor weakly sneered, "That imp simply enjoys stirring the pot." It was a hard and painful lesson, but she had finally learned it, albeit too late to save herself.
"He can stir his pot all he likes as long as I'm not in it," the sheriff grinned, taking solace in Regina's cavalier attitude.
"Are we done talking?" Regina asked, relaxing. Her eyes closed in anticipation of going to sleep.
Biting her lip, Emma almost felt guilty. "Not quite," she started and then paused before adding, "I need to borrow three thousand dollars." She also tried not laugh at Regina's now wide eyes or her own nervousness.
"I beg your pardon. Do I look like an ATM?" the former mayor sniped, sitting up. Glaring down at Emma, she demanded, "What on earth for?"
Apprehensively, the sheriff swallowed. She absently drew a pattern on the sheet. "An old friend of mine is in a really bad way." Quickly, she held up a hand and cut the impending criticisms. "He helped me out a lot while I was living in Florida."
Regina's brow furrowed, but she waited for Emma to continue her story.
"After I completed my probation in Phoenix, I moved to Tallahassee," the sheriff continued, watching her hand repeatedly draw an intricate pattern. She was sharing willingly, and it was scary as hell. "I was interested in criminal justice, but out-of-state tuition was insane, even with financial aid. So, I applied for a receptionist job at the local police academy." She cleared her throat and nervously rolled her lips. "Frank was a nice guy. He saw I was interested in the training and suggested I sign up for the course. One thing led to another and he pulled some strings to get me in-state status at TCC."
"Alright," the former mayor agreed, cutting off Emma's story. Looking away, she straightened her pillows and blankets. "We'll take care of it in the morning." Whatever had happened obviously meant a great deal to Emma if she was asking for money, especially after the reaction in the grocery store the other day.
Beyond relieved and surprised, the sheriff smiled broadly. "Thank you, Regina. I'll pay you back." She absently rubbed her stomach, working out the knots and ignoring the former mayor's harrumph. Glancing down when she heard a low growl from her stomach, she asked, "Since you're awake, mind if we go downstairs for a snack?"
Flabbergasted, the former mayor twisted back around and glared at the sheriff. "You ate half a chicken, Emma." And with that, there went her hopes for chicken salad.
"But—."
"And half a bowl of mashed potatoes," Regina added, disgusted with the lack of leftovers. She had hoped to make potato cakes later in the week.
"Those were so good, too. Way better than the dehydrated stuff," Emma grinned, rubbing her tummy, which loudly agreed.
Sighing, Regina tossed her covers back and put on her slippers. "Very well, we better feed that bottomless pit you call a stomach or I'll never get any sleep."
Scrambling out of the bed, the sheriff turned on her bedside lamp. "Just consider this practice for when Henry hits puberty."
Groaning, Regina walked around the bed and muttered, "Half a chicken."
Emma easily followed Regina downstairs and into the kitchen for her much deserved snack. Things were really starting to look up.
~SQ~
Knowing this evening was going to end in a spectacularly horrible fashion, Regina followed Emma up the creaking stairs leading to Mary Margaret and David's apartment. She already knew she was going to be blamed, but she smirked anyway. It would be worth it just to see their expressions when Emma told them. If she tells them, she thought darkly, picking up on the blonde's nervousness. She stopped on the final landing.
Half way up the final set of stairs, the sheriff softly coaxed, "Come on, Regina," understanding the brunette's trepidation. Turning, she whispered, "The sooner we get in there, the sooner we can go home and watch Game of Thrones." She flashed an encouraging smile.
"We can go home and watch it now," the former mayor countered. This unexpected and certainly unwanted event had been sprung on her right before she started cooking dinner. "I was going to make meatloaf," she added softly. Henry loved her meatloaf.
Sighing, Emma trotted down the short flight of stairs in front the apartment to the landing where Regina stood. "It's just one dinner," she said with pleading eyes. "We had a civil dinner at Granny's two weeks ago." She smiled encouragingly, gently cupping the brunette's biceps and hoping the gesture was comforting. "That went well."
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Regina dropped her eyes. Things could be worse. If she was honest with herself, she had to admit that the blonde had been quite accommodating since this all started. She glanced up when Emma started speaking again.
"I get it," the blonde whispered, fearing an eavesdropper. "I really do, but staying out here isn't going to get this over with any faster."
"Very well," the brunette said with resignation. Her eyes took on a hard glint as she added, "Just for the record, I hate surprises."
Nodding, Emma's smirk morphed into a grimace as she walked up the stairs and into the apartment. Any notion of not telling her parents she was going to endorse Mitchell Herman went right out the window. Regina would kill her.
"About time you two decided to come in," quipped Mary Margaret playfully, pulling a large, covered casserole dish out of the oven.
Placing down the last set of silverware, Henry hopped over to his mothers and grabbed each of them by a hand, dragging them both towards the table. He pulled Emma to her usual spot, sitting across from him and next to his Grams. "Mom, you can sit here," he said, pulling out the mismatched chair on the end. "I sit right here," he happily explained, sitting down across from Emma.
Pausing, David glanced up from his task of pouring ice water into glasses. He frowned slightly but tried to push his feelings aside. The boy was just excited to have a family dinner.
"I hope everyone's hungry," the school teacher boasted with a smile as she carried the casserole dish over, putting it in the center of the table. "I made Emma's favorite," she explained, lifting the dish's lid. "Tuna noodle casserole."
"Yum!" the blonde exclaimed, reaching for the serving spoon and Regina's plate. She dropped a reserved serving on the plate and gave Henry a similar portion. The boy didn't care for it, and she figured neither would his mother. After heaping some onto her own plate, she passed the spoon to Mary Margaret. "Ruby said you went back to work this week," she said conversationally. "Did the kids miss you?"
"Well, you know," Mary Margaret started explaining her day, a one-sided conversation focusing solely on her daughter and husband.
Mostly ignoring the conversation going on around her, the former mayor attempted to decipher the ingredients of the casserole and carefully scooped up a small bite. The base was rich and creamy with a hint of metallic flavor, obviously from a can of cream of mushroom. The egg noodles and peas were just bearable, but why the peas were even in it, she hadn't a clue. However, the longer she chewed, the more she was done. She swallowed her bite and quickly took a sip of water. That was when she spied Henry picking out the bits of tuna and only eating the peas and noodles. Glancing at Emma, she saw the blonde practically shoveling it into her mouth. No discerning taste, she mused, unsurprised.
Not really interested in his grandparents' boring conversation, Henry watched Emma eat and wrinkled his nose. There were times he thought she'd eat anything. Glancing at his mother, he couldn't help but smile. He watched as she would eat a solitary pea while inconspicuously pushing it all around her plate, hunting for the chunks of tuna.
"How is it, Regina?" Mary Margaret asked, taking a bite from her own plate. She knew this wasn't the most ideal meal, but it's what she could easily fix for five people on short notice, given her current financial situation.
Startled out of the meticulous dissection of her dinner, the former mayor looked up to see everyone looking at her. She took a slow, deep breath and dragged out her chewing. After swallowing, she diplomatically offered, "It's quite unique."
Luckily, that seemed to be an acceptable response as the school teacher instantly sported a broad grin. "I'm glad you like it," she assumed. "It's one of our favorite meals." She looked at David and asked, "We have it once a week, maybe?"
"At least," he answered, scooping up another bite. "Of course, I prefer your version with the cheddar cheese and carrots." He smiled at his wife as he chewed.
Regina's stomach seized at the mention of the additional ingredients, but she trudged onward, seeking out the bits of tuna.
"Everything is better with cheese," Emma happily interjected, scooping out another serving for herself. She glanced at Regina and Henry in slight question, shrugging when both subtly shook their heads.
As dinner continued in relative silence, Henry started to slouch in his seat and absently poked at his food. Things weren't going as well as he had hoped, either. Maybe dinner at Granny's was a fluke. Maybe he could get a sandwich at home. He glanced from Emma to Regina. Noticing his mother's sympathetic look, he smiled at her.
Downing the last of her water, the sheriff pushed her plate away slightly and leaned back in her chair. "That was good," she praised while patting her stomach.
"Are you sure you don't want more?" David asked, serving himself another scoop. "Usually, you devour the entire thing." Not that he minded having leftovers for lunch the next day.
"Nah, I'm good, thanks," she replied, glancing around. Clearing her throat, Emma said, "There's actually something I need to tell you."
"You can tell us anything, you know that," Mary Margaret said, patting her daughter's hand.
Carefully weighing her words, the sheriff briefly glanced at the former mayor before saying, "I'm going to endorse Mitchell Herman for mayor."
"Oh," the school teacher weakly commented in puzzlement.
Pushing onward, Emma continued, "After the debate, Gene Gatsby pushed me for an interview." She paused long enough to scratch her head. "I delayed until I was sure."
"This is your doing," the deputy accused in a menacing grumble, glaring at Regina. He firmly put down his silverware.
Rolling her eyes, the former mayor scoffed, "Of course." She took a slow, deep breath and coolly met David's heated glare.
Henry shifted uncomfortably between the two. However, his eyes quickly darted between everyone at the table.
"Why?" Mary Margaret asked in a slightly whiny tone, drawing everyone's attention. After a few blinks, she seemed to mentally shake herself and firmly said, "I think it's important, now more than ever, that we demonstrate a unified front as a family. The people will find great comfort in it."
David nodded as he further signaled his agreement by taking his wife's hand resting on top of the table. Henry's brow furrowed in concern as Regina pursed her lips, belaying any snarky retort, and Emma sighed as she shook her head.
Believing she could change her daughter's mind, the school teacher pushed onward with her rhetoric of family, perseverance and fairness. She wrapped up the impromptu speech with, "You're the Sheriff. After the election, your father will be the Mayor, and in a few months, I'll run for city council." She paused and smiled broadly. "And then, we can start focusing on what's important, like going home."
Emma dropped her forehead onto the palm of her left hand. "Did we attend a different debate? Because I'm pretty sure David fell kinda flat on that particular selling point." Standing up, she paced around in a large circle. "Look, I'm not against you running," she said directly to her father. "But I think it's pretty clear what the residents of Storybrooke want."
"What do you mean?" David asked, not waiting for an answer before plowing ahead. "They want a lot of things, Emma, but mostly, they just want to go home. They want their lives to go back to normal."
Several expressions crossed her face before the sheriff simply crossed her arms and bit her lip. Finally, she slowly said, "You and a few others may want to go back to the Enchanted Forest and to the way things were, but I think that a majority wants to stay here in Storybrooke."
"But that's just temporary," Mary Margaret interjected dismissively. "Once the beans are ready, everyone will be happy to go back home and to the way things are meant to be."
"Back to what exactly?" Regina asked in all seriousness. With her piercing gaze first on David and then on the school teacher, she added, "Feudalism and poverty riddled with disease and hardship?"
"It was a simple life, but it wasn't horrible," the deputy said in defense, believing his words. "The people were happy." He narrowed his eyes at the former mayor. "Or they were until you took it away."
"These people aren't simple country bumpkins anymore, Shepherd," Regina easily countered, affecting boredom with the conversation. Her words would make no head way with them or any royal for that matter. She turned to Emma with a raised eyebrow, her point proven.
"Regina's right."
Quickly standing up and turning to face her daughter, Mary Margaret hissed, "You agree with her?"
Taking a fortifying breath, Emma tried to explain. "Look, this isn't cut and dry." She pointed at the apartment door. "People were asking about a rehabilitation wing and updated equipment for the hospital. They asked about funding for parks and the animal shelter." Dropping her hand, she added, "They even asked if the plans for a downtown beautification project and vocational school were still going to continue." She shook her head and softly continued, "Those aren't the concerns of people who want to go back. They're invested in building a life here." Clearing her throat, she added, "That's why I'm going to endorse Mitchell Herman."
"Is that why you and Regina went to see him the other day?" David asked evenly. His gaze slowly shifted between his wife and daughter.
"David," the school teacher warned. "Don't."
Ignoring the protest, he pushed on, "After you went to the bank."
"Of all the idiotic…," Regina huffed, rolling her eyes. She'd told Emma that Leroy was following them.
David continued, "And got a cashier's check for a substantial amount of cash."
"I hardly call three thousand dollars substantial," the former mayor muttered, taking a sip of water.
"You're spying on me?!" Emma asked, unbelieving. Quickly, she looked at Regina. "Leroy?" she prompted. At the former mayor's nod, she ran her hands down her face and kicked herself for calling Regina paranoid.
"Technically, we were having the dwarves watch Regina," Mary Margaret quickly explained, taking a step toward her daughter.
"I'm watching Regina," the sheriff said, pointing to her herself. "Or have you forgotten all about that?" She pinned a hard look at her mother, stopping her approach. First, their comments in the paper and now, this!
"We haven't," David said, standing. He walked around to stand next to his wife. "That's why we're having Regina watched." Supportively, he laid a hand on Mary Margaret's shoulder. "It's for your protection."
Absently, the school teacher laid a hand over her husband's. "You don't know what she's capable of, Emma."
An overwhelming sense of sadness washing over her, the sheriff shook her head. "And apparently, neither do you," she said with great disappointment. Looking to Henry and Regina, she ordered, "Grab your coats, we're leaving." She was relieved when Henry instantly sprang into action and Regina followed suit.
"Emma," Mary Margaret sighed, reaching for her daughter.
Shaking her head, Emma walked around her parents and took her coat from Regina. Nodding towards the door, she slipped it on but stopped in the apartment doorway. "If you'd had asked, I would've told you," she said weakly. After a breath, she partially turned around to see her parents. Grabbing the doorknob, she added, "We visited Mr. Herman because I had a few questions. I needed to make sure he was going to follow through with his promises." And after that, she pulled the door closed.
"Why didn't you tell them the truth?" Henry asked, standing on the next landing with his mother. He looked between them as Emma slowly walked down the stairs.
"It wouldn't have mattered," the sheriff said, passing her son and the former mayor. "They wouldn't have believed it anyway."
Glancing up at his mother, Henry followed Emma down the stairs. None of this made any sense. Regina was helping Emma's friend. Wasn't that a good thing? It had to count for something, didn't it? After all, an evil queen wouldn't help anybody, right? He had to figure this all out and fast.
~SQ~
"Regina."
Wincing ever so slightly, the former mayor slowly lowered her newspaper just enough to begrudgingly make eye contact. "Emma's inside," she offered in a surly tone before raising the paper back up to reading level.
Glancing through the large glass window of the tiny post office and seeing Emma waiting in line, Mary Margaret was momentarily torn, but before she lost her nerve, she promptly sat down next to Regina, ignoring the cold from the bench. "Actually, I wanted to speak with you," she supplied, shivering slightly.
"I can't imagine why," Regina dryly commented, turning the page. Out all of the blasted times to run into Snow White it had to be the one time, outside a bathroom, she had to herself.
"I wanted to apologize for last night," the school teacher started before being quickly cut off.
"You're not going to go away, are you?" the former mayor asked in a bored tone, closing and folding the newspaper. Dropping the paper to the side, she took off her reading glasses. "I'm not the one you offended last night." Looking directly at her unwanted companion, she said, "If you want to fix your relationship, do it without involving me." Then she proceeded to stow her glasses in her purse.
"Well, that's sort of difficult given the circumstances, don't you think?" Mary Margaret huffed irritably, wondering why she was even bothering. Her step-mother was never going to change.
Regina stood up, ready to join Emma inside the post office. A catty retort was on her tongue as she moved to walk away, but she was quickly overcome by a sudden wave of vertigo. Stumbling backwards, she dropped back onto the bench.
Concerned, the school teacher tentatively touched the former mayor's arm. She quickly glanced inside to check on Emma and was relieved her daughter appeared fine. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she gently asked, "Are you alright?"
"Obviously not," Regina rasped, too disorientated to shake off the unwelcome hand as she tightly gripped the bench.
"What can I do?"
"Just give me a moment," the former mayor snapped, lowering her head. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Slowly, the sensations ebbed, and the grip she had on the bench loosened. It was almost tolerable when she was struck with another, more painful bout. She couldn't contain the slight whimper that escaped.
"Oh!" the school teacher said with surprise, blinking several times. Her world was suddenly all topsy-turvy.
As Emma came out of the post office, it stopped. "I hate going to the post office," she grumbled, folding her delivery confirmation and insured mail tickets into her wallet. Sliding it into her back pocket, she said, "Sorry that took so…." She trailed off, noticing Mary Margaret for the first time. But then, she asked, "Are you two alright?"
Taking a deep breath, Regina nodded and stood, instinctively resting her hand against her stomach. "Yes," she paused before walking past Emma. "I believe your mother wished to speak with you." She stopped just at the edge of their limited range which happened to be next to the damnable yellow car's passenger door.
The sheriff quietly watched the former mayor walk away and sighed. Waiting, she crossed her arms and turned back to the school teacher. "What do you need?" This was really getting old, and the last thing Emma wanted to deal with was her mother getting Regina all riled up.
"I don't need anything," Mary Margaret said, standing and pushing her discomfort aside. "I wanted to apologize."
"Really?" Emma smirked. Nodding in the direction of Leroy's pickup halfway down the block, she said, "You can start by calling off the surveillance."
"You have to understand, it's for your own safety," the school teacher cooed with a soft smile. She took a hesitant step forward.
Shaking her head, the sheriff turned around and walked towards her car. "We'll talk about this later, after you call off your dogs." With that, she nodded for Regina to get in and drove away. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Mary Margaret still standing outside the post office. Gripping the steering wheel, she muttered, "Damn it."
"As much as I loathe to interfere—," Regina started.
"Then don't," the blonde snapped, clearly not in the mood. She drove them to Henry's school. It was almost time to pick him up. Pursing her lips, she wondered why Mary Margaret wasn't still at work.
Rolling her eyes, the brunette continued, "She's not going to stop nagging until you forgive her."
"Forgive her?" Emma snorted in disbelief, turning the car around a street corner. "Doesn't it bother you that she has her cronies tailing us everywhere?" It felt suffocating and she hated it.
"Of course," Regina freely admitted, looking out the passenger window. After all, it wasn't a new feeling, just an old one. "At least it gives you a valid reason not to interview any of the dwarves for the new deputy position."
Frowning, the sheriff asked with slight concern, "You think they would apply?"
"If Miss Blanchard told them to, they undoubtedly would, but as sheriff, you have absolute hiring authority, especially in the absence of a mayor," the brunette easily explained. As Emma parked the car, she continued, "Although Ms. Ginger is fulfilling the role of acting-mayor, she doesn't have the authority to outright reject your selection, outside of budgetary concerns, without calling the city council for a vote."
"Huh," the blonde said with a smile as she parked the car outside the school. Shutting off the engine, she glanced at Regina. "Guess that's how I ended up as Graham's deputy."
"More or less," the former mayor said, pulling her current book out of her purse.
Drumming her fingers on the wheel, Emma sheepishly asked, "Why don't you apply?" After all, she already knew Regina's answer.
Regina simply harrumphed as she opened her book to the marked page. "I think not," she said finally, cutting a glare at the blonde.
"Probably not my best idea, huh?" the sheriff smiled, leaning back in her seat more comfortably. A few moments of silence passed, and after listening to several page turns, she softly inquired, "Any ideas about who would be good for the position?"
At first she was miffed that Regina brokered a deal with Herman for her endorsement. Emma had planned on giving it freely and with no strings attached. However, the willful brunette easily pointed out the former king would've been highly suspicious if nothing was asked in return—certainly since the sheriff was voting against her own father. Of course, all he really agreed to was not cutting the Sheriff Department's budget. This would essentially leave anything more expensive than office supplies solely dependent on fundraising. A hurdle, Regina had assured her, which would be easier to overcome with Mitchell Herman as mayor as opposed to any other candidate.
"I'm sure your parents will have many helpful suggestions," the former mayor offered after a small sigh. Was she not going to get any peace today?
"Yeah," Emma sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of." At the sound of the first bell, she knew they'd only have about ten more minutes of alone time for the day until Henry went to bed. "You seem awful calm after dealing with Mary Margaret," she commented, watching the kids exit the building and head towards the row of buses. When the brunette said nothing, she looked over and asked, "What did she say?"
"I already told you," Regina said, closing her book with a snap.
Rolling her eyes, the blonde said, "Well something happened because you both looked pretty nauseated." She paused and asked, "You're okay now, though, right?"
"Yes," Regina softly replied while considering the new information.
"Was it me? Because I didn't feel anything," Emma asked, turning back to the school at the sound of the second bell. "I didn't do anything magic-y, did I?" Her magical ability made her nervous as it was. She really didn't want to deal with any accidental occurrences.
"No, it wasn't you. However, Cora may now be aware of our connection," the brunette explained. This certainly complicated things, but mostly, it made them vulnerable.
Glancing at the former mayor, the sheriff took a deep breath and frowned. "I'm guessing that's not a good thing."
"I think she was attempting to transfer the bond onto your mother," Regina said, searching for Henry amongst the children hurriedly exiting the school. She smiled, watching her son look both ways before crossing the street.
"Is that possible?" Emma asked, starting the car.
"Apparently not," the brunette supplied, getting out of the car and flipping the seat forward for Henry. She almost missed the whispered "good" from Emma.
"I'm hungry. Can we go to Granny's for dinner?" Henry asked, slightly out of breath as he climbed onto the backseat, settled and buckled his seatbelt.
"Not tonight, Kid," the sheriff answered as the former mayor sat back down. "Your Mom promised me meatloaf." She flashed a smile at Regina and snickered at the expected eye roll.
~SQ~
It was dark when Rumpelstiltskin reluctantly left Storybrooke Hospital after another fruitless visit with Belle. This was the worst one yet. And if her uncharacteristic outrage had been any indication, it would be his last unless he could somehow restore her memory. How did Regina manage this? he pondered. She shouldn't have been able to make adjustments to his masterfully crafted curse. He most certainly didn't believe she had the skill.
"You do prefer your companions young, don't you?" an unfamiliar female voice asked as a figure stepped out of an employee entrance onto the sidewalk, a few paces behind the pawn broker.
Scowling, Gold firmly pressed his cane into the cement as he slowly turned around. The unrecognized nurse was quickly enveloped in a plum of purple smoke to reveal Cora. "We've already made our deal, Dearie," he said brazenly, turning to walk away. He was in no mood for her taunts and conniving words.
"Yes," the sorceress agreed. "I'm just reevaluating my options and looking into a few contingencies." Unsurprised that her admission stopped him in his tracks, she smoothly informed him, "It would appear that things were misrepresented."
"Unlike other people, I honor my bargains," Gold coolly replied before he started walking away again. He refused to get drawn into an altercation with her. Why did her betrayal still sting after all these years?
"I know you, Rumpelstiltskin," Cora darkly jeered. "You wouldn't soil your own hands unless absolutely necessary." She smirked with satisfaction and was completely unconcerned by his heated gaze when he once again faced her. A strange softness overtook her features as she whispered, "You always were afraid of the inevitable price."
"I'm in no mood for your games," he hissed, forcibly grinding his cane into the concrete of the sidewalk. "So spare me your pathetic taunts."
"Then stop playing your own," the sorceress snapped, lifting her chin defiantly. "Emma Swan has the magic potential of a potato. Yet somehow, she managed to bind herself to a suitably powerful magic practitioner via an arcane spell from another realm." She paused and tilted her head. "As if I wouldn't figure out it was you who supplied the spell. Tsk, tsk, Rumpel, you're getting careless."
"What do you want?" he asked in a growl. His patience was wearing thin.
Cocking an eyebrow, she answered, "You know what I want, but you've taken that from me." She chuckled softly. "Now, I'm going to return the favor." And then, she disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke.
Panic momentarily seized Gold before he transported to Ms. French's hospital room. When the red cloud dissipated, he saw Cora standing over an unconscious Belle, who lay oddly on the bed. "Get away from her!" he warned, forming a fireball in his free hand.
"Temper, temper, Rumpel," the sorceress said mockingly. "I may not fully understand the . . . technology of this world," she continued, gazing down at the sleeping woman, "but I'm fairly certain it wouldn't react well to fire," she taunted before quickly waving her hand over Belle's head. "There," she said, quite pleased as a purple mist seeped into Belle's head. "All better."
"What did you do?!" Gold roared. The fireball in his hand grew in intensity.
In the midst of a staring contest, the pair ignored the sound of footsteps rushing down the hall towards Belle's room. As one young nurse finally reached the door and peered inside, she immediately popped back out with a squeaky, "Oh!" But she was quickly shoved out of the way as an undaunted, older nurse marched into the room.
"I don't care what's going on, but take it outside," the nurse barked with a sharp accent. She immediately went to Belle's side, checking her vitals. "Visiting hours are over," she firmly said, glaring at Gold. Her gaze shifted to the unknown woman across the bed and continued, "This poor girl needs rest."
"Of course," Cora smiled demurely as she gracefully dipped her head. Turning to Rumpelstiltskin, she said, "A pleasure as always, Rumpel." Then, she disappeared in a swirl of purple.
Relieved that Belle appeared fine, the nurse turned her attention to Gold. "Put that fireball out before you set off the sprinklers," she admonished, straightening Belle's covers. When she was finished, she frowned upon seeing Rumpelstiltskin still in the room. "I think it's best if you leave now, Mr. Gold."
"Yes, of course, Mrs. Potts," he said quickly and left. Arguing with Belle's charge nurse wouldn't help anyone, especially him. He cringed over what Cora could have possibly done.
~SQ~
Frustrated, Emma sighed as she ended the unexpected call with Ruby with the push of a button. She carefully balanced her cellphone on her flannel pajama-covered knee as she slumped down in the wing-backed chair. Glancing at the master en suite's closed door for the umpteenth time, she frowned. Regina was taking longer than usual preparing for bed tonight. Usually, the brunette moved with elegant and practiced purpose, but ever since the post office, she'd been increasingly sluggish. She didn't even make any snarky comments about tonight's episode of The Walking Dead.
Suddenly, the door opened and the blonde reflexively smiled. "Hey," she greeted softly. "Are you okay? Do we need to go to the doctor?" She tried not to wince at her own over eagerness.
Slightly startled by the open concern, Regina regarded the sheriff curiously for a moment before preparing to turn back the bed. "I'll be fine," she replied. As the blonde quickly went to her side of the bed, she quietly added, "Thank you."
The decorative pillows were quickly removed and the bed turned back. Emma sighed in relief as she settled in bed, thankful that the day was finally over and also that the former mayor hadn't yet sent her back to the chaise lounge. She fiddled with her phone for a minute before picking up a catalogue. Glancing over at her bedmate, her brow furrowed. "Not going to read?" she asked softly, watching the brunette's back.
"No."
Wordlessly, Emma dropped the catalogue in the basket under her nightstand and turned off her light. She pulled the comforter up before settling down to stare at the ceiling.
"You didn't have to turn off the light," Regina supplied, looking over her shoulder at Emma.
"It's okay," the sheriff shrugged. Again, she asked, "Are you sure you're alright?" She didn't know how to describe it, but the former mayor seemed less vivid somehow.
Pursing her lips, a sassy retort titillated the tip of Regina's tongue but she held it. "As I said, I'm fine. I'm just tired," she explained again, turning to face the closet. Her eyes burned with every blink. But as she closed them, she knew sleep would come easily that night.
"I realize you're exhausted, but I should tell you this now rather than later," Emma started to explain, fidgeting with the soft hem of the cream colored blanket. After a deep breath, she added, "Gold and Cora had a little discussion in Belle's hospital room tonight." She continued when Regina rolled onto her back and looked at her questioningly. "No one is really sure what it was all about, but while you were in the shower, Ruby called and was pretty upset. She said Belle wasn't non-Belle anymore but someone named Lacey."
The former mayor frowned as she glared up at the ceiling. This was very problematic. Suspecting the blonde's unasked question, she said, "Cora must have given Belle her cursed memories."
"Is that bad?"
"Well, it certainly puts her at a distinct disadvantage since everyone else already had their memories restored," Regina answered evenly, her mind becoming slightly fuzzy as she struggled to stay awake. "Obviously, Gold doesn't know yet." Or he's busy plotting his retaliation, she thought darkly.
"Yeah, Ruby says the charge nurse kicked him out of her room twice today," Emma supplied, staring up at the ceiling. "He'd really upset her today, something about a teacup breaking." She turned her head towards the too-quiet brunette and debated whether or not to push for more information. "So…," she prompted, her voice betraying her anxiousness. "If they break into a brawl down Main Street, how exactly do we break up a fight between a wolverine and a badger?"
"A good question," the former mayor answered in a whisper as her eyes drifted shut and sleep claimed her. A magic-fueled duel between her mother and Rumpelstiltskin would devastate Storybrooke.
"I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it," the sheriff said, rolling onto her side to face the brunette. She frowned slightly, realizing Regina had fallen asleep. Searching the brunette's face for a moment, she easily rolled over and grabbed the small snack bowl of grapes from off the nightstand. It was the only snack Regina would allow Emma to have in the bedroom.
Popping a red, seedless grape in her mouth, the blonde chewed and watched the dancing shadows of branches from the tree outside the window moving on the ceiling. She ate another grape before she looked back at the brunette and listened for the soft, regular breathing. Considering everything, she had to admit that things were going quite well between them—all three of them, actually. Archie's advice was paying off.
"I still can't shake this feeling of impending doom," Emma said, lying on her back across the entire length of the leather sofa. Her head was flat on one of the throw pillows while her socked feet hung off the opposite armrest. She was thankful that Archie had a fire lit.
"Why do you think that is?" Dr. Hopper asked, making a note on his legal pad. He still wasn't sure if helping both women back-to-back was a smart idea, but it seemed to be working thus far.
"Hell, I don't know." The sheriff drummed her fingers on her belly. She sighed. "No, I do. I still feel guilty." She paused to gaze into the flickering flames. "Only you, my parents, Henry, and Gold know what's really going on. No one else does."
"And that bothers you?" he asked.
"Doesn't it you?" she snapped, turning to glare at the therapist. "I put us in this situation, and no one can get us out of it." Swallowing, she stared back up at the ceiling. "And Regina just, she just rolls with it." She cringed inwardly, wondering how whiny she sounded. "She doesn't talk about how she feels. She just takes care of Henry and me."
"Do you want her to discuss her feelings with you?" Archie carefully prompted, thinking Emma was making some real progress.
"I…," the sheriff started then abruptly stopped and frowned.
"Do you talk about your feelings with her?" he asked after a few long moments of silence.
"Not really," Emma grudgingly admitted. This therapy stuff was depressing. "It's a shame you can't give me any hints, like insider trading." She flashed a hopeful grin at Archie.
"If I'm not mistaken, that's illegal," Dr. Hopper easily parried, ignoring the sigh from Pongo. However, he still considered her request, as it had possible merit. After scribbling down a note, he asked, "Do you think you know yourself fairly well?" well aware that Emma Swan was not an overly sharing person.
"Yeah. Well enough, I suppose."
Nodding, Archie pushed his glasses back up his nose. "How would you like to be treated if the roles were reversed? How would you feel if Regina had cast the binding spell on you?"
"I doubt she'd ever do something that stupid," the sheriff instantly replied and bit her lip. After a beat, she added, "I'd be pissed." She was still waiting for the bout of uncontrollable, inevitable anger.
"Wasn't Regina angry?" he continued.
"Yeah, but it was different," she explained as she sat up, sitting crossed-legged on the center cushion. "She was resolved."
Glancing at the clock, Archie flipped back the turned pages of his notepad and put it on his desk. "If you want Regina to open up to you, it's going to take patience and a fair amount of work on your part." He pinned Emma with a pointed look. "Try being actively conscious of her likes and dislikes. Get involved with her hobbies—involve her in yours. Talk to her about whatever you feel comfortable discussing, and include her in decisions that will impact the both of you." He smiled and added, "This will take time, of course, but eventually, you'll notice a difference."
With a cocked eyebrow, Emma smirked, "This sounds a lot like relationship counseling." Should she tell him that she didn't do relationships?
"In a way," he agreed. At the soft chimes of the small mantel clock, he stood up. "You're doing well, Emma."
Pulling on her boots, the sheriff said, "Thanks, Archie."
Eating the last grape, Emma glanced over at Regina and couldn't help but feel like she was missing a lot of the puzzle. Yet somehow, Archie was guiding her away from self-destruction. She leaned over and put her snack bowl back on the nightstand. After settling down to sleep, she listened to the brunette's quiet, even breathing for a few minutes. She twisted to look over her shoulder at her sleeping bedmate.
"You don't make any sense," she whispered, laying her head back down on her pillow. I would totally hate my guts for all of this crap, she thought. Exhaling heavily, she tried to slow her overactive brain, but it wouldn't co-operate. "Mary Margaret thinks you're the devil incarnate," she whispered. "For a while, I believed her, but now…. I just don't know anymore."
~SQ~
"I really hope people are smart enough to stay home," Emma muttered, gripping the police cruiser's steering wheel. She tried to relax but kept feeling herself lean forward, peering past the relentless wipers fighting off the increasing barrage of snowflakes on the windshield. It was going to be dark soon, and they still had no idea where Henry was.
"It would appear we finally lost our shadow," the former mayor commented to the sheriff whilst she held her cellphone to her ear, eagerly waiting for Ruby to return. Watching the scene unfold in the half frosted side mirror with slight amusement, she observed Leroy's ever-present truck slide into a shallow ditch on the side of the road. When the cruiser failed to slow down or stop, she raised an eyebrow, turned to Emma, and asked in surprise, "Aren't you going to stop and help?"
Glancing again in the rearview mirror, the blonde shook her head as the grouchy man easily climbed out of his truck. His booted feet slipped on the wet road while he fought to maintain his balance. She saw him kick a tire as he pulled out his cellphone. "Nope," she said with a satisfied smirk. "He's not hurt and that four-by-four can easily get out of that ditch." Serves him right, she thought. Again, she peered into the mirror and saw Leroy pull a large bag of kitty litter out of the metal tool box behind the cab. "He's fine," she said, focusing on the road ahead. She listened as the brunette resumed talking with Ruby.
"Given the intensity of the snowfall, Miss Lucas can't track Henry," Regina said after ending the call with the waitress. She scrolled through her contacts. All of them were already searching, useless, or unavailable.
"Why would he just run off?" the blonde asked. Her brow furrowed as she slowed the car down to make a turn. The snow was starting to stick to the road. "He was only going to Granny's for a hot chocolate. The bus stop is on the same freaking block."
Since the storm wasn't supposed to start until late in the evening, everyone had thought they had plenty of time to prepare. Storybrooke Academy had already planned on a half day then sending the kids home after lunch. But by the time their day had begun, it had already started snowing. It was light, at first. So when Henry called from the school office, Emma and Regina were responding to calls and patrolling the outskirts of town. Both easily agreed to pick the boy up from Granny's. It wasn't until Mary Margaret called Emma's cell (which was responsibly passed to Regina) an hour later asking about Henry, did they realize the boy wasn't where he'd said he would be. Now, those available were searching for him while his two mothers carefully drove back into town.
"It's not as if it's a new behavior," the brunette quietly said, looking out the mostly fogged-up passenger window. However, this time she was with the blonde, and Storybrooke wasn't as safe. Her brow furrowed in thought.
Emma sighed heavily. There wasn't a whole lot she could say without starting a fight. After all, she had perpetuated said behavior. "Are we sure he's not at the arcade?"
"The arcade didn't open today because of the storm," Regina distractedly answered as she searched through her purse. Not finding the vault key, she instantly grabbed her cellphone again and called David.
Keeping her eyes on the road, the sheriff listened to the rather terse conversation. After the former mayor hung up, she asked, "What's your vault?"
"The mausoleum in the graveyard is where I stored magical trinkets I brought over." Pausing, the brunette looked over and continued, "I thought it best to send someone there just in case Henry decided to return and snoop."
"Okay," Emma drawled, realizing there was more to the story. Not wanting to get into that right now, she asked, "Shouldn't we just, I don't know, Apparate over there?" She chanced a glance at the former mayor, knowing the Harry Potter term would irritate her.
"You don't know how and I can't, yet," Regina replied, looking straight ahead. She explained, "Transporting halfway across town right now wouldn't be advisable."
"Great," the blonde grumbled, readjusting her grip on the steering wheel. She knew the former mayor was worse off than she had claimed last night. It was going to take at least thirty minutes to get to the graveyard at this rate and another ten to the house. Suddenly, she asked, "Can't you track him with magic?"
"Unless you have some of his hair, no, I can't," the brunette said. She felt weak, and it was a feeling she loathed.
Slowing the cruiser down to make a left turn onto a back road, Emma decided that a shortcut back into town was necessary, and this heavily forested road just happened to pass by the cemetery. It would cut their travel time in half. She sighed heavily has she readjusted her grip on the steering wheel.
"He's so grounded," the sheriff muttered as the cruiser hit a large pot hole. She gradually reduced her speed to prevent skidding as the car rolled over more sections of broken asphalt.
"Definitely," the former mayor agreed, bracing herself.
~SQ~
"Henry?" David called, slowly descending the stairs into the vault. He glanced around, dusting the snow off his coat. He frowned at the additional trunks and crates scattered throughout the vault's hall. It looked like someone was moving in. "Henry!" he called again, making his way through the clutter. As he searched for his grandson, he wondered how the boy had managed to get in here again. After his initial discovery of the place, he and the dwarves had attempted to empty the vault, but the casket above wouldn't slide for anything. Pushing open a heavy door, he sighed with relief when he saw Henry. "What are you doing here?"
Looking at his grandfather, the boy simply turned back to the books lying across a large wooden table. "I was looking for clues," he answered, slowly turning the page of a very old book. The pages felt funny.
"Clues for what?" the deputy asked, walking up to the table. His eyes searched the covers as he idly flipped through a few pages of one that he could actually read.
"Can you read any of this?" Henry asked, focusing on another book. He turned a couple of pages, focusing hard on the strange illustrations and intricate diagrams, wishing for something in English.
"No," David quietly admitted, taking the book away from the boy and putting it on the table. "What are you doing here, Henry? Everyone is worried sick."
Looking up at his grandfather again, Henry tried to explain. "I'm trying to figure out Mom's plan."
"Plan?" the deputy asked with a cocked eyebrow. "Her plan for what?" He picked up his grandson's backpack and quickly ushered him towards the exit.
"I don't know, but she has to be up to something, right? Isn't that why you ordered the dwarves to follow her?" the boy asked in response, studying all the crates and trunks again. "Where did all this stuff come from? It wasn't here the last time."
"I don't know, Henry." David followed him up the stairs as he pulled out his cellphone. Before he hit the send button, something shiny on a trunk caught his attention. It was a gold engraving of the initials CM. "Cora," he muttered, urging Henry out of the mausoleum with a bit more urgency.
As soon as they were both out, the doors clattered shut and a solid click was heard. Curious, the deputy tried to open the doors, but they were somehow locked, now. He took a few steps back and called Regina, knowing Emma was driving.
~SQ~
Answering her phone, the former mayor barked, "Did you find him? Is he alright?"
Struggling to hear her deputy's reply over the phone, the sheriff relaxed at the brunette's sigh of relief. She blew out a heavy breath as she readjusted her grip on the wheel. It was already dark, and the headlights reflecting off the snow made it even more difficult to see.
"Yes," Regina responded tightly. She pursed her lips. "Of course Cora would store things there, it's her vault."
Emma chanced a quick glance at the brunette, her eyes quickly returning to the road. But she did catch the confused look.
"No, those weren't there before...," the former mayor's voice trailed off as she pondered on the new information. She was quickly brought back to the present by the deputy's demanding tone. "I have no idea what she's planning." Grinding her teeth, she said, "Please keep an eye on Henry until we can pick him up. Thank you." Swiping her thumb across the screen, she dropped her cellphone back into her purse.
"Henry's alright?" the blonde asked gently.
"More or less," Regina tersely admitted, adjusting her scarf. "Apparently, he thinks I'm scheming with my mother."
Emma smirked and scoffed, "Like you have time for that." Rolling her lips, she glanced at the brunette and seriously said, "He'll come around." She flashed a quick smile as she was drawn in by the hopeful gaze. Before she could say anything further, the car suddenly shuddered hard to the left and then immediately to the right as she over-compensated by reflexively jerking the wheel. The tires, unable to gain purchase, slid across the icy road. Repeated loud thuds drew her attention fully forward. "Shit!" she cursed as a deer wildly thrashed across the hood while she attempted to regain control of the swerving vehicle.
The beast's frantic hooves beat against the windshield, causing it to crack and splinter. The sheriff gently pressed the brake as another deer attempted to jump the cruiser. However, the beast failed, landing on top of the other animal. They wrestled each other across the cold, wet metal of the hood. This time, a hoof broke through the glass, swinging violently and connecting with the side of Regina's head, knocking her unconscious.
Instinctively, Emma covered her face from the flying glass and blood. A hoof slammed into her arm. She cried out in pain. Her body instinctively lurched backward, causing her foot to bend awkwardly, slipping off the brake and onto the gas. Suddenly, the weaving cruiser raced forward, the momentum forcing the struggling deer further into the car's cockpit. Glass, blood and flailing hooves were everywhere.
Finally, one of the deer managed to get its footing and scampered out into the woods. The second deer, no longer encumbered, gained purchase by slamming a hoof against the steering wheel. That's when the front right tire hit a large, iced-over pot hole. As the deer leapt to safety, one of its hooves bumped the wheel hard to the right, causing the cruiser to spin and slide into a slight ditch, crashing into the tree line.
~SQ~
Walking into Granny's, Leroy scowled in annoyance as he stomped his snow-covered boots on the doormat. He walked up to the counter and plopped down on a stool. It had taken him over twenty minutes to get his truck out of that ditch—no thanks to the Savior or the Evil Queen. He drummed his fingers on the formica, waiting to order a stiff drink to warm him up.
"Grumpy," called Mary Margaret, coming out of the restroom. She glanced around the diner and was relieved Henry was still sitting in his booth. As she approached the dwarf, she asked, "Where are Emma and Regina?"
"Don't know, Sister," he grumbled, turning to face her. "They ditched me." When the server finally walked up to him, he quickly placed his order for a tall beer. "Why?" After all, if they had driven all the way into town on Route 6, they should've been here long before him. He had planned on giving Emma a what-for. "They must've had another call." Storms always made people crazy, he mused. Damn it, he was determined to enjoy a nice malt beer before braving the cold again to catch up to them.
"Not that I know of, but David's on a call now, something about an obstructed exit by the nursing home." The school teacher frowned as she glanced over her shoulder at Henry who seemed not to be paying attention, quietly working on homework. She frowned as Leroy took a long sip of his beer.
"Well, that's all taken care of," boasted the deputy as he walked into the diner. Smiling, he sauntered towards Mary Margaret and planted a quick kiss on her lips. "Everyone is on standby, so we should be okay." He smiled brightly, feeling accomplished. But he frowned upon noticing his wife's concerned look. "What's wrong?"
"Regina and Emma aren't here yet," she answered softly, glancing over at Henry again.
"Maybe they went by the vault first," David supplied easily, sitting down next to Leroy. He pulled out his cell and dialed Emma. When he got no answer, he tried Regina with no answer, either.
"Maybe that pit of Hell doesn't have good cell reception," the dwarf snickered, sipping his beer.
"David," Mary Margaret whined slightly, flashing him pleading eyes, "something could've happened." She placed a hand on his forearm before asking Leroy, "Where did you lose them?"
"A mile before Old Cemetery Lane on Route 6," answered the unconcerned dwarf. Maybe he'd order something to eat.
"David!" she implored, hoping he would take immediate action. "That road goes directly past the graveyard. What if they took a shortcut?"
The deputy frowned and glanced outside. The snowfall was so heavy he could barely see the buildings across the street. Turning back to the school teacher, he reassuringly said, "Okay, it'll take me a few minutes to get the truck warmed up."
"Better take a couple bags of kitty litter, just in case," Leroy helpfully suggested, sipping his beer.
"We'll take your truck, then," David said, hopping off his stool and slapping the dwarf's shoulder. "Come on." He zipped up his coat and headed out the door.
"Dang it," Leroy muttered, taking one final swig of his beer. He had almost finished it—almost.
~SQ~
END PART 4
