"So what are we looking for exactly?" Emma asks, picking up a small golden trinket off one of the many shelves inside Regina's vault.
"Anything we can find on that sword. Your wound shouldn't have been able to reopen like that-" Regina looks up from the ancient tome on the table in front of her. "Put that down," she says, stepping around the table and snatching a small vial, filled with a glittering black liquid, out of Emma's hands. "You can't just go picking up everything that you see. Some of the things in here are dangerous."
Regina turns around, going back to her book. Emma glances back to the shelve, her fingers just a hairsbreadth away from an emerald jewelry box. "Emma," Regina snaps from the other side of the table. "What did I just tell you? No. Touching."
"Sorry," Emma mumbles, returning her hands to her sides and looking properly chastised.
"As I was saying," Regina looks back down to the book in front of her, scanning the page before turning it, "your wound shouldn't have reopened. So there must be something more to that sword, and maybe I can find out what that is."
Regina continues reading, a slim finger tracing the lines as she goes. She sucks in a sharp breath, and freezes.
"Did you find something?" Emma asks eagerly, moving quickly to the table, in front of Regina.
After a moment, Regina meets Emma's eyes, swallowing visibly. "What...what if it had nothing to do with the sword," Regina says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if I didn't heal it properly? What if my magic wasn't enough to save you?" Her eyes are wide, glistening, her hand trembling where it rests on the book.
"Regina, hey, no." Emma moves quickly around the table. She puts a hand on Regina's shoulder and turns her around so they are facing. "Your magic was enough. I wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for you. You did save me."
Regina looks down, refusing to meet Emma's eyes. The hand on Regina's shoulder squeezes gently, and with her other hand, Emma puts a finger underneath Regina's chin tilting her head back up to face her. "Look at me," Emma says, quietly. "You can't blame yourself for what happened. We have no idea what's causing this, and have you ever heard of a wound reopening after being healed with magic?"
Regina shakes her head, causing Emma's finger to drop and she moves it to rest on Regina's other shoulder. "But that doesn't mean it hasn't happened before," Regina says. "If it has, we need to find some sort of information on how to counteract it, before it happens again." Her face turns pensive.
"That's a good plan, however, I don't think that's where we should start. Doctor Whale said the scans came back clear; there wasn't a single sign showing what happened to me. If there was something wrong with how you healed me he would have caught it.
"We should start with the sword; I think it's our best bet," Emma says with a nod. She gives Regina's shoulders one last squeeze before dropping her hands. She turns and looks down at the book.
Regina turns back to it as well, her arm brushing against Emma's. "I just don't want to be the cause of you getting hurt. If something happened to you and it was my fault, I couldn't-" Her breath catches in her throat, the words refusing to come.
"No," Emma says fiercely, looking at Regina. "Stop thinking like that. Stop throwing a pity party. If something happens to me because you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself instead of helping to find out what is really going on, then you can blame yourself. But right now I need you. You are our best chance of understanding whatever curse might have been put on the sword.
"You saved me, and we both know you're going to do it again and again until my time is actually up, and even then it still won't be your fault. Unless you, you know, go all Evil Queen on us again and decide to go after me," Emma says the last part with a grin.
Her smiles grows when Regina finally meets her eyes. "See, it's not your fault."
Emma lifts a hand and cups Regina's cheek, and she leans into The Savior's touch unintentionally, a soft smile turning up the corners of her lips. Their quiet breathing the only noise to fill the room as they look at each other, neither one daring to look away.
Emma's gaze drops to Regina lips. Regina's eyes widen and she sucks in a sharp, but quiet, breath.
Emma turns her body toward Regina, leaning closer. But as she turns, she bumps into the table, knocking over an intricate black vase that rolls onto the stone floor, shattering on impact.
"Shit," Emma says, jumping back and kneeling over the pile of broken glass, hands outstretched, as if to push the pieces back together.
Regina stands frozen, the air leaving her lungs in a rush, hardly noticing the scene before her.
"Shit," Emma says again. "I'm so sorry, Regina. I didn't mean to. I was just-" She cuts herself off, eyes going wide. "I mean, I leaned too close to the table. Too clumsy. I'll buy you a new one." The words come out quickly, all strung together.
Regina blinks, and looks down at Emma. "It's quite alright, dear." Her words come out roughly, and she clears her throat. She waves her hand and the pieces float back together until they are whole and the vase rests back upon the table. "See, no harm done."
"Still. I'm sorry I did that," Emma says, looking at her feet. Regina gets the feeling she's talking about more than just the vase.
"You're already forgiven," Regina says, reaching an arm out towards Emma, who's eyes snap toward the movement so quickly that Regina falters, dropping her arm back down to her side. "We should get back to trying to find something about the sword." She turns a page of the book roughly enough that it strains, nearly tearing. "There's another book on that shelf. Why don't you read through that one." She points to a shelf across the room without looking up.
Emma's shoulders tense. "Yeah, okay," she says and moves across the room. She picks up the book, and turns back around. She looks toward the table and hesitates. A metal stool to her right catches her eye, and she moves toward it and sits.
She balances the book awkwardly on her lap, and resigns herself to an inevitable aching back.
"Mom?" Henry calls, knocking on the half-open door of Regina's home study.
"Yes, Henry?" Regina asks, looking up from her desk, black rimmed glasses perched on her nose. Henry pushes the door open the rest of the way and steps inside the room.
"Did you and Ma find anything in the vault today?" he asks, leaning back against the arm of the sofa where it faces Regina's desk.
"No," Regina says with a sigh. She leans back in her chair and sets her glasses on top of an open book. "But that doesn't mean I'm not trying." She waves her arms at the piles of books stacked haphazardly across the desk's surface.
"I know you are," Henry says. He steps up to the desk and lifts open the cover of a book before letting it fall closed with a soft thud. "I know you're trying harder than anyone else. You and Ma don't fight each other anymore; you fight for each other."
"Henry," Regina says softly, with a smile, and reaches for his hand.
He lets her take his hand in her own. "If there is anything to find in any of these books you'll find it; I know you will…" His gaze drifts downward.
"But?" Regina asks.
"But what if it isn't soon enough?" His voice is quiet, and he appears to shrink into himself.
"It's alright to be worried. What is happening to your mother is…"
"Terrifying," Henry whispers. Regina stands and walks around her desk and leads Henry to the couch.
"Yes, it is terrifying," she says, sitting beside Henry and pulling him into her side. "But we can't let that fear dictate our every thought. We can be cautious and we can try and find everything we can about what is happening to your mother, but we can't let it consume us."
"I know, but it's hard not to think about it. The wound reopened once, so what if it does happen again? What if The Queen isn't there to help this time?" His voice is thick and when he looks up, tears are running down his cheeks.
"I know it's hard not to think about," Regina says, wrapping her arms tighter around him. "But it doesn't help anyone to dwell on what could happen; your mother reminded me of that."
"You worry about her too," Henry says, looking up at her.
"You know that I do, Henry," Regina says.
"No, I mean you care about her," he says, exaggerating the word.
"Your mother and I are finally at a point where I can say without a doubt that we are friends. She is probably my best friend," she says softly.
"I know she is. But you and Ma have never just been friends. When I first brought her to Storybrooke, you hated each other, and then you learned to get along and now you're friends. But it's never just been about that."
"No, for the longest time it was about you; although now, your mother and I can both admit our relationship is more than just both of us being your mother."
Henry sighs loudly. "Mom. Are you purposely being dense?"
"Henry," Regina admonishes. He looks apologetic for a moment.
"You and Ma care about each other, and it's more than just being about me or even about you just being friends. You and Ma love each other."
"Henry, that's…" Regina says, eyes unfocused as she stares over the top of Henry's head.
"True?" Henry supplies. Regina opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. "You don't have to say anything, and you don't have to admit anything. Right now." The smirk on his face undoubtedly learned from her. "But maybe just work on admitting it yourself."
He extricates himself from his mother's arms and stands, giving her a sheepish smile. "I'm going to do my homework; call me if you find anything," he says, glancing at the books on her desk, and then bounds from the room as if he hadn't shaken her world completely.
Regina slumps into the couch with a loud sigh, her arm resting over her eyes.
"I don't like it; I don't trust him," Emma says, hands shoved into the pockets of her red leather jacket for warmth.
"And you think I do?" Regina asks as they walk down the sidewalk. "I've spent days going through book after book, and I still haven't found anything useful. No sword that seems to keep attacking long after it's gone. No curse to make it do so.
"He's the only other person in this town that might possibly know anything about what's happening." She frowns as the pawn shop comes into sight.
"I know." Emma sighs. "But I still don't like it," she says, pulling her hands from her pockets.
Regina sends her a grim look, and her hand twitches at her side, as if to reach out to Emma's, just inches away. But she curls her hand into a fist and presses it into her side. She looks back toward the pawn shop, determination coloring her features.
A bell chimes as Regina turns the handle and pushes the door open. They step into the empty store. "Gold?" Emma calls.
A murmuring of voices reaches their ears. "Yes, dear?" a voice that is decidedly not Gold, replies, pushing aside the curtain and striding forward.
"What are you doing here?" Regina asks.
The Queen leans lazily against the counter. "Hmm this and that." She waves a hand through the air, the gesture still just as careless.
Gold finally makes an appearance, his cane thumping against the floor with each step. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asks in a voice that makes it clear it is no pleasure at all. "As if one of you wasn't enough." He glares toward The Queen, who lifts a hand to appraise her nails, smirking.
"I have a question...about a certain sword," Regina begins.
"Ah such a popular weapon, I see," he says, glancing back toward The Queen.
"Like I said, it's good to know what you're up against," The Queen says, lowering her hand and looking towards her double.
Regina ignores her other half. "So you know why it is we need to know about this sword."
"A sword whose blade appears to keep working even after the wound has closed. Can't say I've ever heard of such a thing before. Now if you'll excuse me," he says, turning to reenter the back of the shop.
"You're lying," Emma says, super power pinging relentlessly. Gold faces them again.
"The question is what do you have to offer me for what I know?" he asks, a glint in his eyes.
"What do you want?" Emma asks.
"I want the sword itself. I'll tell you what I know, but first you must promise that once this sword makes another appearance you will do whatever it takes to bring it to me," he says, both hands on his cane as he leans against it.
Regina laughs. "And put a weapon with that much power in your hands." She turns and starts toward the door, reaching blindly back for Emma, to pull her along. The Queen's eyes narrow in on the gesture, and she quickly looks up toward Emma, who meets her eyes. The Queen looks back at the offered hand, daring Emma to take it.
"Why do you want the sword?" Emma asks. Regina looks back, hand resting on the door handle.
"I have a want for unique items," he says, looking around the room with a poor imitation of a smile.
"Regina, maybe we should consider it," Emma says.
Regina looks at Emma for a moment. "You're serious," she says. "Have you not yet learned that it is best not to make deals with the devil?" Gold preens at the name.
"I was well on my way to making my own deal, before you two barged in and threw that down the drain," The Queen says, looking bored. "Although I must say, I like your offer much better than my own."
Gold pays her no mind. "That is my price. Take it or leave it," he says. Regina looks pleadingly at Emma, who sighs, and follows Regina toward the door.
"Whipped," The Queen singsongs. "No wonder you didn't gives us the same offer." She laughs, and pushes herself off the counter, following the pair out the door.
"If you change your mind…" Gold says. The Queen rolls her eyes and exits the shop, catching up to Emma and Regina, her stiletto boots clicking against the pavement.
"What do you want?" Emma says, stopping and turning around abruptly, nearly causing The Queen to fall. Instinctually, Emma reaches out to steady the other woman, her hands coming out to rest on The Queen's hips. Regina clears her throat when her other half regains her balance, but Emma's hands have yet to move.
Emma starts to jump backwards, but The Queen grabs her wrists, holding her hands in place. "If she wants her hands on me she's more than welcome to have them there," she tells Regina, with a smirk. The Queen leans in closer to Emma. "My hips or anywhere else that you like." Her breath brushes Emma's ear, the words a purr.
"At least don't do this in public," Regina says, annoyed. She wraps them all in a cloud of purple, and they reappear in her living room.
"What? Afraid to be seen getting too close to The Savior?" The Queen asks over Emma's shoulder.
"No, I'm afraid for Emma to be seen with you," Regina says with a glare. "At least get a room, the both of you."
"Jealous are we?" The Queen says.
"What?" Emma cries at the same time.
"I don't trust you. I know exactly what you're capable of and I don't want you anywhere near Emma or the rest of my family," Regina says, taking a step forward.
"Well, Em-ma sure seems to want me around," she says, closing the space between her and Emma, pressing their bodies lightly together. Emma sinks into the contact, before her eyes widen and she stumbles backward. The Queen slides her hands from their grip on Emma's wrists down to entwine their fingers, now the one to keep Emma from losing her balance - and to keep her from getting too far away.
Emma pulls her hands from The Queen's grasp and walks backwards to Regina's side. The Queen sits down on the couch and crosses her legs, looking as if she were sitting upon a throne.
"The real question then, is if you don't want me anywhere near Emma, why is it that you brought me with you?" The Queen's eyes are dancing, a smile on her lips. "Is it perhaps that you can't deny our dear Savior anything - or anyone - that she wants?"
"I don't want-"
"We've been through this, Princess. Your words say one thing, but your body says another. Maybe you could deny it the first time, but when it keeps on happening," she practically sings the words.
Regina's eyes narrow; Emma's cheeks darkening. Regina looks from The Queen to Emma. "What happened?" Regina asks softly.
"Nothing happened," Emma says, her voice too high. She takes a breath and tries again. "Nothing happened; I didn't let anything happen."
"As much as she wanted to," The Queen says, but the words are ignored.
"If you want- I won't stop you. I will never trust her, but if that's - if she's - what you want…" Regina says, voice small, vulnerable.
"Hey," Emma says, and brings the palm of her hand to Regina's cheek. "I don't trust her either."
"Not trusting and not wanting are two different things, Emma," Regina says. Emma brushes her thumb across Regina's cheekbone.
The Queen giggles. "It looks as if we have ourselves a little love triangle. Or is it really a love triangle if there are two of us?" The Queen questions.
"This isn't a love triangle," Emma says, not removing her hand.
"It's certainly something, seeing as you can't seem to keep your hands off either one of us," The Queen says.
"I could never be with you. Like Regina's said, we don't trust you," Emma says.
The Queen looks genuinely hurt for a moment before regaining her composure. "'Always the villain, even when I'm not.'"
"Right," Regina snorts. Emma drops her hand, and Regina misses the warmth immediately.
"You are always so quick to dismiss the fact that I helped save your princess. If I decide not to help next time, then where will you be? We both know where Emma will be." She looks pointedly toward the ground, before looking back to the two women in front of her. "You need me. You both need me."
"Once we figure out what this sword is we can figure out how to counteract whatever it is that it's doing to Emma," Regina says.
"Well, I see I'm not needed then," The Queen says, and stands, walking towards the doorway. She looks over her shoulder. "You best hope, that your dear princess, doesn't die in the meantime." They hear the front door close a moment later.
"She's right; we need to find a solution quickly," Regina says. "Maybe we should reconsider Gold's offer."
Emma looks at her incredulously. "I know I said that earlier, but you know I tend not to make the smartest decisions in the heat of the moment. We'll keep researching; we'll find another way."
"And if we don't find the answer soon enough?" Regina asks.
"We will. Do you really want me to give one of my mother's hope speeches?" Emma asks with a raised brow. Regina makes a face. "I thought so."
Regina laughs. "You're right. We'll figure something out."
"We always do," Emma says, with a wide smile.
Henry yelps when he catches movement over the top of his comic. He sits up against his headboard, staring at The Queen sitting in his desk chair. "What do you want?"
"Is that anyway to greet your mother?" she asks.
"You're not my mother," he says, sitting his comic book in his lap.
"I thought of everyone, you were on my side, Henry," she says.
"I want to be on your side. You saved Ma, and that's good, but you have to keep doing good. You have to prove that you're a hero. You know how long it took for everyone to believe that my mom was good. She had to work for it; she did work for it, and you have to do the same."
"It's not that easy," The Queen says.
Henry shakes his head. "It never is. But that's part of what makes you a hero; you keeping fighting even when it's not easy."
"You don't know how hard I've fought."
"Maybe not, but I do know that what you've fought for wasn't what you should have been fighting for. You can be good, if you want to. Everyone else may not be able to see it yet, but I can," he says, giving her an encouraging smile.
The Queen walks over to Henry's bed and sits on the edge of it. "I don't know if I can do what you want, Henry. I want to do that for you, but I don't know if-"
"Then don't do it for me," Henry says, and moves to the edge of the bed to sit next to The Queen. "Do it for you."
Tears well up in The Queen's eyes, but don't spill over. She looks down at the comic that now sits on his bed. "Wolverine," she says with a faint smile. "He was always my favorite."
"I know," Henry says and returns her smile. "Just think about what I've said, okay?"
The Queen starts to argue, but shakes her head. "I'll think about it, but I don't make a single promise. It's all sounds rather boring to me." Henry rolls his eyes. "I should go before Regina catches me. I've already spent too much time around her precious savior. As much as I would like to press my luck, I am not quite in the mood for it. Goodbye, Henry." She stands and runs her hand through his hair before disappearing.
A/N: As always, I'd love to know what you thought. So leave a review and let me know =)