Thank you, my dears, for the reviews! I don't always have the chance to sit and reply to all of them, but I do read every single one of them and I really appreciate it! If you haven't already, please follow me on Tumblr at Niki-Frost to keep up to date on all my SwanQueen fanfiction and artwork! Los quiero, mi cariño~
For the first time since meeting Regina, Emma was having a crappy day. She woke up at around five in the morning, restless and unable to get back to sleep, and tried to keep herself occupied while waiting for the Mills' arrival. Her toothpaste tube exploded when she was going about her morning routine and she spent twenty minutes carefully wiping the entire counter with a damp cloth until she was sure it was clean again. She managed to stub her toe twice on her way out to the living room, somehow got the TV stuck on a channel that was playing what she assumed to be a Spanish soap opera, and burnt a pop tart in her attempt to make food. Eventually she settled for munching cereal out of the box (she had to sample four boxes until she finally found the Fruit Loops) while listening to what sounded like a very angry Latina woman yelling at a man on TV.
"Usted no es un hombre," she repeated one of the voices, amused. She wondered if Regina grew up speaking Spanish. That woman's voice could make anything sound good.
Another attempt at changing the channel did nothing - she might have hit record, actually, and was now regretting not having memorized the TV remote's layout - until she gave up and felt her way into the bathroom for a quick shower. The water was a little too hot, she'd failed at keeping her bandages out of the spray of water, and the clothes she'd retrieved from the drawer were probably mismatched.
By the time Regina and Henry arrived, Emma was curled up on the couch, hair and bandages damp, red as a lobster, and pouting like a petulant child.
"Good morning, Emma," the brunette greeted, quickly echoed by her young son. She moved to the blonde's side as Henry went to peruse Emma's DVD collection. "Your bandages are damp."
"I know," Emma huffed, irritable. "I wanted to shower. It didn't go so well."
"You should've waited for me," Regina chided softly. When Emma said nothing and ducked her head with a frown, Regina gently grasped her forearm and coaxed her to her feet.
"Let's change your bandages now, then. Come on." Guiding her to the kitchen, she seated her at the counter while she brought out the supplies. Emma peeled the damp gauze away from her face with a sigh.
"I'm sorry. This day is not starting out well."
"Want to tell me about it?"
As Regina went about replacing her bandages, Emma recounted her morning. It didn't take long to tell at all. "Wow. My life is so exciting," Emma snorted. "Sorry. My issues sound lame when I say it out loud."
"Not at all. You're doing what you can right now. I am here to help you, though, so let me make your life easier, alright?"
"Kay."
"Besides, Mary Margaret may try to kill me if she comes back to find you looking like a cooked lobster again."
Emma laughed aloud, automatically rubbing a hand over her red forearms. "Yeah. Couldn't get the water to the temperature I wanted. Also, I may have accidentally recorded a Spanish soap opera."
"So you don't speak Spanish?" Regina joked, glancing at the TV. She recognized the show; it was one of the ones her mother liked to watch. For all the airs that she put on, Cora Mills was secretly a huge fan of the melodramatic soap operas, if only to make scathing remarks about the foolishness of the women and to ogle the handsome men. It was no wonder that she'd married the Latino Henry Mills senior after divorcing Zelena's English father.
"Not since Spanish class way back in high school," Emma chuckled. "Do you?"
"Sí, yo hablo Español. No mucho sin embargo." The smile in her voice was evident, and it had Emma's lips quirking up into a little grin as well.
"Wow."
"Qué?"
"You make Spanish sound good. Like, really good."
Regina opened her mouth, closed it, then ducked her head with an almost shy little smile. "Gracias, querida."
"What's that mean? Querida?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out."
"Okay, that's not even fair. I can't Google it."
"Exactly, dear." Regina laughed, putting away the medical supplies as Emma pouted dramatically in her direction. "I see you found a box of cereal. Would you like me to make some real breakfast now?"
The idea of hot food managed to perk the blonde right up, and once the three had eaten, Regina helped dig up a box of specialty paints for them to work with. They'd pushed furniture out of the way and spread a canvas across the hardwood, setting up two easels for Emma and Henry to work with. Once more Regina declined joining, insisting that she was happy to sit back and watch. They ended up plugging her phone into the speaker dock again, filling the room with soft orchestral melodies.
"So," Regina began, watching intently as Emma trailed her fingertips along the dry, raised lines of paint, mapping out where her image was. "Something's come up for tomorrow evening and I'm afraid Henry and I are required to attend."
Emma paused, turning her head to flash a quick smile. "Okay, no problem. I can manage for the evening."
"Actually…" Regina hesitated, frowning. She hadn't even taken Emma out of the apartment all week and now she was going to suggest subjecting her to one of her mother's social dinners? What a friend she was.
"You come too," Henry said matter-of-factly from where he sat in front of his own canvas next to Emma's.
"Me? But… uh, where are we going?" This she directed to the boy, who was clearly going to be more straightforward than his mother. His next response was more of a grumble, as if he didn't relish the idea of it either.
"Gramma's house for dinner."
Emma's head whipped towards Regina, cheeks losing their color. "Your mother's house?"
Regina didn't mention her mother often in conversation, but it was obvious Cora wasn't the most pleasant to deal with. The very idea of meeting this woman while blind and essentially handicapped made Emma blanch.
"I just didn't want to leave you here alone for half the day," Regina offered, a grimace in her voice. "If you don't feel comfortable-"
"Emma, come with us," Henry said, pouting fiercely at Emma despite her inability to see him. The blonde let loose a nervous laugh.
"Oh, I don't know if your grandma would appreciate me coming along, kid."
"Gramma invited you too."
"She- what?"
"Please?"
Regina grimaced. "Henry, if Emma doesn't want to come-"
"Pleeeease, Emma?"
A small, paint-smeared hand grabbed Emma by her thumb as Henry whined, clearly desiring her company at what he knew to be a boring, stuffy social function. Even without her eyesight, Emma could already imagine the chubby face of the brown haired, brown eyed boy, lower lip jutted out in a childish pout. The thought of disappointing him - and in extension, Regina - steeled her resolve.
"Alright, I'll come," she relented, stifling a sigh with a forced smile. Even as Henry squealed and jumped up to hug her, sticky hands and all, she was listening for Regina's reaction. The brunette didn't make a sound, didn't even seem to move from where she sat on the couch.
"You'll sit with me, right?" Henry asked, though his fierce tone made it sound more like a demand. Not wanting to get paint in his hair, Emma settled on nuzzling her cheek against his head.
"Of course! I'll totally fit in at the kids table."
"There is no kids table," Regina finally said. "You'll both be at the main dining table with everyone else."
"Everyone else? Who else is going?" Emma turned towards Regina's direction as Henry disentangled himself and went back to finger painting.
"A few family friends, mainly. My mother hosts these dinners quite often… Are you sure about this, Emma?"
"Sure, why not?" Emma grinned, ignoring the anxious flutter in her stomach. "I can keep Henry company. Sounds like he's not a fan of the grown-up dinners anyway."
Regina sighed. "No, he's not. Kathryn only occasionally attends, so he doesn't always have Jimmy to play with either."
"Jimmy?"
"Kathryn's son. It's why she asked me to be here, actually. He broke his leg climbing a tree, and now he refuses to be left with a babysitter."
"He said I could draw on his cast!' Henry said, sounding quite pleased with himself.
"Did he now?" Regina smiled, glad to see him chatting and occasionally grinning up at Emma like an excitable puppy looking for approval. He was rather introverted around most people, so it was refreshing to see him so openly friendly with someone other than his own family. How Emma could bring out this side of him was a mystery, but she appreciated it nonetheless.
"Well, better keep on practicing your painting then," Emma coaxed, grinning in Henry's direction. "That way you'll be ready to do some awesome artwork for Jimmy's cast."
Henry nodded eagerly, smearing his fingers onto his canvas again as Regina shifted in place on the couch, uncharacteristically fidgety. Emma seemed to sense her unease and turned in her direction, elbows braced on her knees.
"Alright, what's wrong?"
"Nothing." Regina turned her head away, avoiding the blonde's soft smile. Even with her eyes covered, there was something gentle and comforting about the way Emma smiled at her, and Regina knew she'd give in if she kept looking at her. She directed her eyes to the canvas Emma was working on. "What are you painting?"
Emma frowned. "Hey, look at me, will ya?"
"How did you-"
"Your voice is going in that direction." Emma gestured towards the canvas with a dismissive wave of her hand. "What's wrong, Gina?"
Regina did look at her then, her nose scrunching. "Gina?" she repeated, almost offended. Emma had said it once before and she'd dismissed it as her simply slurring over the "Re-", but this was very clearly a shortening of her name.
"I think it's cute." Emma shrugged. "Seriously. What's bugging you?" Lowering her voice, she added, "Do you not want me to come? I don't have to go if it makes you uncomfortable. I'm sorry if I crossed a line-"
"No, no," Regina interrupted, holding up her hands momentarily before dropping the useless gesture with a sigh. "No, it's not you. It's…"
Emma leaned forward towards her, eyebrows creased and her lips pursed with concern. She waited patiently as Regina decided on her choice of wording.
"It's… my mother," she finally conceded. "She's difficult, and not very welcoming to most people. Especially when it comes to…" Invalids, Cora's voice rung out in her mind. "-strangers."
"Oh." Emma's lips pressed together and her shoulders moved with her slow, steady breaths. Her brows twitched downwards and for a moment, she frowned... then her expression smoothed back out. "I understand; I'll stay here. My neighbor Ruby is pretty cool, I can probably give her a call if I need help with anything. I'll be fine for the day."
"But, Emma-"
"Really, I'll be fine, it's no problem." Emma flashed a wide grin with too much teeth and turned back to her canvas, dipping her fingers into the first small cup of paint she found. She hesitated, rubbing the paint between her fingers as if debating whether she should ask what color she'd just picked up, before giving a slight shrug of her shoulders and adding it to her painting.
Henry was scowling at them both from where he sat, having abandoned his painting when Emma and his mother first started speaking quietly. Adults always lowered their voices when they didn't want to alert him to something.
"Emma?" he said, his tone almost a whining demand. The blonde turned her head to smile meekly in his direction.
"Heard that, did you?"
"Come with us!" He stomped his foot a little, earning a sharp look from his mother.
"Henry," Regina began, scoldingly.
"Emma!" he complained.
"I'm sorry, kid, but I can't come tomorrow." She sat back a little, straightening in her seat when she heard him clamber to his feet next to her.
"Can't or won't?" he demanded, which took Emma and Regina both by surprise, because when has that ever been a part of any six year old's vocabulary? Of course, Regina immediately knew it was her fault. She used it on Henry, just like Cora used to use it on her - still did, if she was being honest.
"Henry," Regina said again, her voice terse. It was more out of guilt, realizing that she'd used her mother's tactics on her own child, but Henry mistook her hardened tone for anger and tears immediately sprang into his large brown eyes.
"You said!" he insisted with a wobbly intake of air, grabbing at Emma's forearm as if he could shake her into changing her mind. For the first time since meeting him, Emma was at a loss for words, simply allowing him to jostle her arm without resistance. She was good with kids because she'd been around so many and knew how to entertain them, but she'd never had to comfort a child or deal with a temper tantrum at any of her many foster homes. It was never her responsibility. Besides, foster kids learned early on to hide their tears and to comfort themselves. A child that had a tantrum was a child who got sent back.
"Henry, I-" She swallowed, grimacing, as Regina immediately stood and moved around her to where Henry was. "I'm sorry, kid…"
And then Henry was being hoisted up and away, his paint-smeared hands slipping from Emma's arm as he gave a squawk of indignation. Emma froze in place, not wanting to move in case she bumped into either of them. For all she knew, Henry could be flailing.
"That's enough," Regina snapped, lifting Henry with some difficulty as he struggled. "Emma, I'm sorry, we'll be right back."
Regina hurried down the hall and into the bathroom with her crying son in tow. Emma dropped her head and listened as the door thumped shut and the faucet turned on.
"Henry Daniel Mills, you do not lay a hand on her like that," Regina seethed, her face flushed with embarrassment and guilt and something else entirely. She sat him on the counter and stuck his hands under the tap to wash off the paint even as he began sobbing strangled, breathy little sobs.
"I d-d-didn't!" he wailed, not understanding why his mother was suddenly so angry with him. She rarely lost her temper with him, and the only times he'd ever seen the vein on her forehead bulging was when she got into an argument with his grandmother. Now he could see it, clear and angry against her forehead, and grandma was nowhere in sight.
"You shook her arm, Henry," Regina bit out, scrubbing his fingers with soap, her grip firm on his wrists to prevent him from pulling away and making more of a mess.
Shaking Emma's arm may have been harmless, especially at Henry's age, yes. But when he grew older? What if he thought that behavior was acceptable? What if he took it as permission to grab a woman's arm or to shake her when he was upset? The thought of Henry being physical towards someone else made her sick. Not necessarily violent, perhaps, but a simple touch could still be manipulative in so many ways. A possessive grasp of the wrist, a directing nudge of the shoulder, a simpering touch of the hair. She would know.
Henry couldn't turn out like Cora. She wouldn't let him.
"Don't ever do that again, do you understand?" Her voice still came out hard and angry. Henry shrunk away, cheeks damp with tears and his lips quivering.
"Yes," he whispered faintly. "I'm sorry, Mommy."
Next thing she knew, tears were running down her own cheeks, mirroring her son's. A strained little sound escaped her throat and she quickly pulled Henry into her arms, feeling him immediately lean into her chest and burrow his fingers into her shirt. She didn't even care that he was wrinkling the fabric with his damp hands. She considered it a blessing that he still accepted her embrace for comfort despite having shouted at him just a moment ago.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you." The little reassurances were whispered as she stroked his hair and felt him sniffle against her collarbone.
"Would never hurt Emma," he promised in a warbling voice, and Regina's heart plummeted with guilt once more because of course he wouldn't. Henry was better than that. He was good and kind and loving despite the track record of cold and unloving women in his life.
"I know, honey." She pressed kisses to his temple as he leaned back, hands hovering over his drippy nose.
"Tissue please?" He held out a hand, pouting. Regina cracked a watery smile and tore some toilet paper from the roll to help him wipe his nose clean. She tore off a bit more to dab at her own face; the fact that Emma couldn't see her didn't change the fact that she wore perfect make up every day nonetheless.
"Now, let's go back out and see if we can't convince Emma to come to dinner with us, okay?"
"Politely," he offered, nodding his head.
"Politely," she agreed, smiling.
Emma was wringing her hands together nervously as she waited, nearly jumping a little in place when the bathroom door finally opened and mother and son returned. She hoped Regina hadn't gone too hard on Henry - he was only six, and she had broken her promise to attend the dinner with him. If anything, it was her fault for agreeing to him in the first place.
"Hey," she began, voice hesitant as the pair stepped over to her. Even without her eyesight, she could sense there had been tears. Turning to face them fully, she opened her arms and gave a comforting smile. "C'mere, kid."
Henry hesitated, glancing up to Regina as if for permission, and Regina once again regretted her harsh reaction to him earlier. With a reassuring nod, she nudged him forward. Henry immediately flung himself into Emma's arms with an exuberant hug.
"Sorry," he mumbled into her shoulder. The blonde chuckled, rubbing her cheek against his head again to avoid using her paint-covered hands, musing his hair where Regina had smoothed it down just a moment ago.
"It's okay, little man. I'm sorry for making a promise I couldn't keep."
"You don't have to break that promise," Regina murmured, remaining standing on Henry's other side. The six year old nodded his head against Emma's shoulder.
"Come with us, please?" he asked, injecting as much sweetness and politeness as he could muster into his voice. Emma's brows knit together and she kept her head tilted down, facing him rather than Regina.
"I really am sorry, Henry, but I can't." Feeling the boy deflate in her arms, she continued, "But maybe we can take you for icecream on the weekend instead? If- if that's okay with your mom."
"Sure," Regina acquiesced, and though Emma could hear the clear disappointment in the brunette's voice, she said nothing of it. She focused on the extra tight hug Henry gave her before he sat back down on his stool, and they spent the rest of the afternoon painting quietly, the only sound that of the classical music. Emma suggested they order in from the Greek restaurant just a couple blocks away for dinner and Regina agreed without complaint, once again quietly using her own card despite Emma reminding her that her MasterCard was on the counter.
Henry cheered up by the end of the night after they put on another dragon-related movie and Emma told him about the awesome ice cream parlor nearby that they could go to on the weekend. He seemed to have forgiven her for backing out of Friday night's dinner, but Regina remained quieter than usual for most of the evening, occasionally casting odd glances at Emma when Henry wasn't looking. They were in the last quarter of the movie when Henry announced that he had to use the bathroom.
"Pause please," he said, patting his mother's hand as he clambered off the couch. Regina paused the movie and watched him putter off down the short hall to the bathroom. When the door clicked shut, she turned her head to glance at Emma again, only to find the blonde already facing her with a grimace on her lips.
"Okay, what did I do?" Emma asked, sighing.
"What?"
"I could feel you staring at me all day. What did I do? I'm already staying away from the family dinner, and if you didn't want to take Henry for ice cream you could've just said so."
"You didn't do anything wrong, Emma," Regina said, her brows knitting together.
"Then why do you keep looking at me like there's a problem?"
Regina frowned. "Why won't you come to dinner tomorrow?"
"... Excuse me?"
"You were fine with it earlier, but now you refuse to come, and we both know you're not doing anything tomorrow."
Emma's brows pinched together, her lips pursing. "I didn't want to be an inconvenience."
"I already told you that it's not a problem. And Henry was really looking forward to having you there with him."
"But not you."
Regina blinked. "What?"
"I got the message, Regina. Your mom wouldn't approve of me and I'd just be an embarrassment at her fancy social dinner. It's not a big deal, I already told you that I'll be fine here alone."
"What message, Emma? I never said that!"
"You didn't have to. I can read between the lines. Like I said, it's not a big deal." Emma shrugged then, turning away and folding her arms across her stomach. "I'm used to it. Don't feel obligated to invite me just because Henry wants you to."
Two fingers found their way to Regina's temple and she rubbed at her forehead fiercely, resisting an oncoming headache. "You think I don't want you there?"
Emma's pursed lips and lack of a response answered that question.
"Emma, I want you to come with us. We're friends, aren't we? Why wouldn't I want you to come?"
"You made it pretty obvious that I wasn't going to impress your mother any." Emma's tone was almost petulant and Regina swore she saw that lower lip jut out for a moment.
"What? Emma, no one impresses my mother. She's impossible, and she's none too kind to most people. I was just worried that she would give you a hard time."
There was a moment of silence. They could hear the flush of the toilet, then a scuffling as Henry dragged a stool to help him reach the sink.
"I didn't want to embarrass you," Emma finally muttered, shoulders hunched. "I'd be completely out of place in some fancy estate. Your mother has her own stables, for cryin' out loud."
"Emma," Regina breathed out, deflating a little at the sight of the blonde hunching in on herself. For someone so confident and full of life, she looked unnaturally small in that moment. "I could never be embarrassed by you. Forget about what my mother may think. Henry and I both want you there with us."
Emma's head lifted in her direction, meek. "You're not just saying that for Henry?"
It was concerning how much validation it took for Emma to actually believe her. Shaking her head some, Regina shifted closer and settled her hand on Emma's forearm, fingers closing gently around the other woman's warm skin.
"I want you to come with us," she said slowly, stressing each word. In a comforting gesture she rubbed Emma's forearm, feeling the tiny blonde hairs under her palm stand on end. An embarrassed smile found its way to Emma's lips.
"If you insist," she joked, and Regina chuckled, releasing her forearm as Henry reappeared.
"Okay," he said, climbing back onto the couch between the two women and motioning for his mother to resume the movie. There was less space between them than before but Henry didn't mind, just snuggled himself right in and happily leeched body heat from them both.
"Hey, kid, is it too late for me to come to dinner tomorrow?" Emma asked before the movie resumed. Henry's head snapped up in her direction, mouth open in surprise. Not wanting to question her change of heart, he shook his head, adamant.
"You can come," he exclaimed, leaning up against her like a happy puppy, and she ruffled his hair and grinned in his direction. When Henry peered up at his mother with a barely concealed 'Did you hear?! She's coming with us!' it was all Regina could do not to laugh.
Mary Margaret's daily phone call came shortly after the movie ended, when Regina was cleaning up and preparing to leave. It was half past ten at night and Emma had just stepped out of the bathroom when her phone rang with what Regina still considered the most obnoxious ringtone. Henry leapt up to grab it and bring it to Emma, wiggling like a puppy as she grinned down at him and his palpable excitement.
"Hey, M.M.," she greeted, leaning against the wall in the hallway as Henry hovered. "What time is it over there?"
"Half past six, dad and David are just starting up the grill- oh! Crap! It's- what time is it for you? It's past ten, isn't it? Sorry! I wasn't thinking."
"No worries, I'm still up. We just finished watching a movie."
"We watched Shrek!" Henry shouted helpfully, prompting Emma to chuckle. Mary Margaret made a sound of confusion.
"Who's that?"
"Oh, that's-" Emma hesitated. Ever since their first conversation about Regina taking care of her, Mary Margaret had left the topic alone, even going so far as to politely (and rather awkwardly) ask how Regina was doing one afternoon. Emma kept the Regina talk to a minimum for everyone's sake, and out of a respect for Regina's privacy, she'd said nothing about Henry's presence too. "We have extra company today."
"It sounds like a child?"
Emma gave a noncommittal hum in response. "So how's it going over there? What's papa Leo making for dinner?"
"Henry, get your shoes on, please," Regina said softly from across the room as she finished tidying the living room. Henry pattered away.
"Barbecue ribs and corn on the cob," Mary Margaret answered, before laughing and putting David on the phone because he wanted to say hello. A minute of jesting with him later and Mary Margaret was back on the phone, chipper as always. Despite enjoying chatting with her best friend, Emma kept an ear out for the Mills' activities, knowing Regina would be helping her to bed pretty soon.
"That's awesome," Emma responded after a moment, then purposefully gave a mighty yawn. "Sorry. I think I'm fading."
"Of course, you should get to bed. I'll call earlier tomorrow, promise."
"Mmmhmm. Enjoy dinner. Night, M.M."
"Night, Emma!"
She ended the call in time to hear Regina's soft footsteps approaching.
"Ready for bed?" the brunette asked, her hand touching Emma's elbow. Emma smiled and nodded, letting herself be led around in their usual routine after saying goodnight to Henry. With her bandages changed, teeth brushed, and pajamas on, she slid into bed and sighed pleasantly at the caress of cool sheets against her skin.
"So, what's the plan for tomorrow?" she queried, resting her arms behind her head. Regina sat on the edge of the bed for a moment.
"We'll come over at our usual time, start prepping at around four, and head out at five. Does that sound okay?"
"I'm good with whatever." Emma's smile turned apologetic. "Um, I'm not sure that I have anything very fancy to wear, though. Think my nicest pair of jeans would be okay?"
"If you're not opposed, I can lend you some things of mine. I think we're close enough in size."
"Sure." Then, quirking a brow in amusement, Emma added (in perhaps a slightly husky, teasing voice,) "What are you wearing right now, Regina?"
"Nothing but my stilettos," Regina deadpanned, and it was worth it to see Emma turn beet red and her mouth drop open in shock. The brunette let loose a throaty laugh. "I'm joking, I hope you know. You should see your face right now."
"Oh, that is so not funny," Emma grumbled, unable to hide the stupid grin splitting her lips. "For all I know, you could be telling the truth and I can't even see you."
Regina just chuckled.
"... Are you?" Emma asked, suspiciously. She reached out a hand to swat at Regina, colliding with what felt like a warm, suit-pant clad thigh. The brunette laughed louder and swatted her hand away.
"You wish, Miss Swan. I'm in a grey pantsuit and blouse."
"Oof, first the stiletto thing, then Miss Swan, and now a commanding pantsuit. I see how it is, Madame Mills." She smirked, a hint of white teeth visible beneath the cocky twist of her lips. Regina actually blushed.
"Purely coincidental. You're the one saying it," she chuckled.
"Mommy?" Henry called out softly from the living room, sounding bored and impatient.
"Your son awaits." Emma grinned, snuggling herself back into the covers. "See you two tomorrow then."
The weight lifted off the edge of the bed as Regina stood and turned off the bedside lamp. She paused, as she always seemed to do now, and glanced down at the blonde who was clearly waiting for her to say something. This was becoming their nightly ritual, it seemed.
"Have you dreamed of the stallion again?" she finally asked.
"I think so. My dreams are foggy sometimes, but yeah. I think I saw him. Why?"
Regina glanced over at the unfinished painting of the chestnut stallion in the corner of the room and smiled faintly.
"No reason. Goodnight, Emma."
"Night, Regina."