Regina's "errand" involves trailing after Emma once the agent is off duty for the day. She takes Marian's coat and car keys, and leaves around seven o'clock when the next change in shift takes place. By then her buzz from the alcohol has worn off.
To the knowledge of her security team, she's safe in the comfort of her home.
In actuality, she's behind the wheel of Marian's sedan, following Emma's range rover through the city and towards the nightlife by the wharf. If her hunch is right, Emma Swan doesn't just take an evening off. Regina parks on the street, far behind where Emma pulls over.
It's a breezy, rainy night, and the wind whips at the hood of Regina's borrowed coat, even as she holds it in place. She sloshes through puddles and moves as fast as she can, while trying to shield her eyes from the splatter of raindrops. It's hard to keep track of Emma, though the woman's stride is so distinctive.
They're headed for a lounge or club, and it looks upscale enough that Regina might have trouble getting in with her plain, businesslike attire.
All Emma will have to do is flash her badge, but the agent only nods to the woman at the door, and then passes inside without sharing any credentials.
"I'm with her," Regina breathlessly states, and gestures after Emma with a sweep of her arm.
The woman at the door gives her an openmouthed stare, as if the idea either insults or shocks her. "With Swan?" she gapes. "Swan didn't tell me she had a girlfriend."
"Perhaps because I initially turned her down, and then made her beg," Regina replies without batting an eyelash; then she pouts in mockery of her fictional, begging Emma.
"Well, I'm Ashley," the woman shrugs, and steps aside to allow Regina through. "Swan's a regular, and I would consider her a friend, so be good to her, okay? She's probably at the bar waiting for you."
"Thank you, Ashley," Regina dryly intones. As she enters the lounge, she finds that the woman's tip is helpful: Emma Swan is perched at the bar over a glass of whiskey.
The bar itself isn't what Regina assumed it would be—the interior is much shabbier than she expected, and it appears that Emma is indeed taking a night off.
Regina's on the verge of turning around and leaving when Emma glances up and looks directly at her. So she begrudgingly strikes out across the small dance floor and slides onto the empty stool beside Emma.
"What are you doing here?" Emma snaps, like a frustrated mother who has found her kid out of bed in the middle of the night. "Did you follow me? How did you even sneak away?"
"Your security team isn't as observant as they should be. Neither are you, for that matter," Regina softly answers, and nods to the bartender to bring her a drink. "I'll have what she's having," she hums, with a flick of her eyelashes in Emma's direction. Her poison of choice is never whiskey, and yet the smoky taste of it soothes her. The whiskey hits her bloodstream, and she fleetingly wonders about the woman at her side. Emma Swan excites all of her extreme emotions, and she can't rationalize why that is, but she won't think about it too deeply—she's been under an extraordinary amount of stress, and in part, the fault for that lies with Emma. She's still infuriated by what happened earlier, but she also has a plan.
Regina will have to try to look past Emma's errors if she wants to be successful with what she's about to propose. "I want to help you find whoever was responsible for my abduction," she calmly states. "Clearly the men who carried it out were not calling the shots, and although they're dead, I don't for a second think I'm safe. So, who is behind this? Are they drug dealers? Do they trade in weaponry? The best chance you have at this point is to use me to lure them - "
Emma takes a long gulp of her whiskey, and leans heavily on one elbow over the bar. She's obviously not keen with Regina's idea, but from the way she withdraws, Regina can tell that it's a plan that the agent's already been considering.
"You can't do it," Emma flatly argues. "It's really high risk. I doubt we'd get authorization, and no offense, but look at you." Her hand flew wildly as if to indicate something, and Regina stares down at herself, perplexed by what that might be.
"You're like…I don't know, some hot trophy wife," Emma blurts out at last. "I'm not downplaying your accomplishments, but you have a finishing school background. Growing up, I went to the school of hard knocks. You, on the other hand… you're…delicate—"
"Delicate?" Regina hisses in disgust, and she has half a mind to shove Emma to the floor. "Listen, Ms. Swan, you might have a bunch of files that tell you some of the details of my life, but you truly don't know much about me."
"Arm wrestle me," Emma demands suddenly, and reaches out to take a flabbergasted Regina's hand.
Regina swats Emma's gripping fingers away, but the agent balls her fist around Regina's knuckles.
"Give it your best shot," Emma insists, and rolls up her long sleeve to reveal a well-rippled, muscular arm. "If you're strong enough to beat me, then I'll seriously consider what you're suggesting."
"This is absurd," Regina protests, but they move to a table for more leverage and she finishes her glass of whiskey for some liquid courage. She flexes her smaller muscle, and compares it to Emma's well-toned bicep.
If she's going to play, Regina is going to play to win – and that will only happen through mental rather than physical strength.
As their hands lock over the table, Regina leans completely forward and gazes at Emma with so much intensity that the agent blinks furiously and loses focus. Regina's not afraid to take it one step further, to distract Emma with a further invasion of personal space, but she's already significantly flustered her opponent.
Emma releases her hand and draws back, utterly confused by what's happening. "What the hell was that?" she splutters.
"I was intimidating you, and it worked," Regina triumphantly snorts, gloating over her victory as she stands up.
"I don't call that intimidation," Emma practically growls, and they're staring at each other heatedly, as if they might hit each other or share a turbulent kiss.
"I call it a win by deception," Regina finally murmurs, and then she waves at the bartender for another drink. She never drinks this much, but the whiskey in her veins makes her feel powerful, and she's missed this feeling. She's missed feeling powerful.
There have been many times in her life when she was at the mercy of others, and she's vowed to herself that this most recent experience wouldn't break or even bend her—yet the sudden thought of the attack makes her sway a bit after all, or maybe that's just another side effect of the drinking.
Emma's whining about a rematch, but Regina only chuckles quietly as she lifts her glass of whiskey to her lips. She settles back at the table, and Emma continues brooding until a waitress appears with some menus.
The waitress is thin and tall, with fake eyelashes and wild red make-up that goes with the clip-in streaks in her dark hair. She's friendly, and beams down at them with a bright smile as she squeals, "Em—l just came in for my shift, and I was so surprised to hear that you brought a girl around. Introduce us."
Emma's slumped in defeat, but the waitress' exuberance quickly pulls her out of her mood. "What, you mean Regina?"
Regina lifts her chin, and puts on her best poker face. "You could do a better job of introducing me, dear," she rumbles critically.
"I'm Ruby," the waitress cheerfully pipes in, ignoring Emma's odd behavior. "It's nice to meet you, Regina. I'll be right back with your food."
As Ruby bounces off to put Emma's order in, still under the impression that the two women have been seeing each other for a while, Emma spins to face Regina. "Why does Ruby think we're together?" she asks, spilling her whiskey on the tabletop in the process. This whole charade has brought out her latent clumsiness, and she's behaving like an awkward teen on her first date.
Regina's entirely too amused by the situation, and shrugs casually. "I told the woman at the door that we'd been on a couple of dates," she remarks. "I'm perfectly capable of thinking on my feet when the situation calls for it, and I wasn't sure if this was an exclusive lounge. It certainly looks nicer on the outside than it does on the inside."
Emma mops up the whiskey with a paper napkin and then thrums her fingers on the table. "I'm guessing this is all part of convincing me that you'll be an asset to the investigation," she concludes. "I have to admit, going on a date with me is a pretty nice bribe, but I'm still not sure you could hold your own in a fight."
"Who ever said this was an actual date?" Regina scoffs, and re-positions herself so that she's sitting cross-legged. It matters very little that Emma Swan is exactly her type, with a little less polish than she's accustomed to – although if she's being honest with herself, she's always been attracted to more roguish individuals.
Emma's face flushes red with color, but she covers for it by reasoning aloud, "Well, we're having a couple of drinks together. You mentioned I hardly know anything about you, and this seems like a perfect opportunity to get to know each other," she suggests.
Ruby interrupts them and drops a basket of hot wings in front of Emma. The waitress' sudden appearance gives Regina the chance to really consider whether or not she wants to develop even a tentative friendship with Emma. It's never been easy to have any kind of relationship with anyone, and she doubts it will be worthwhile.
"You want to get to know me?" Regina asks, unaware of how her eyes shine at the prospect of that—but she's still got her defenses up, and there's a clear reluctance in her body language. How can she possibly trust Emma after the past week has been so hectic, and when the woman might have ulterior motives?
"Yeah. Let's get to know each other." It's the first time Emma smiles genuinely, and she takes a little breath of relief that lifts her shoulders. "I'll start." She swirls her whiskey around in her glass, and places it next to her wings almost as an after thought. "Since we're on the topic of dating, I can tell you that the last woman I went out with broke all of my DVDs because she thought I was cheating on her. Then she found out that my only mistress is my job. It's been a really long time since I went out on a date."
Regina goes silent, and slips her arms in front of her chest as she swallows thickly. "I gathered that from the way that waitress reacted to my presence," she admits. "It's been a long time for me, too. I prefer relationships that don't involve strings. It's just easier that way, because I have Henry. He might take it personally if someone walked out of our lives."
Her serious relationships have been complicated disasters—she can't think of a single one that wasn't an elaborate power play, or in the rare case of Mallory, a bonding of two brokenhearted souls.
She keeps any other version of the past out of her head, because now isn't the time to be thinking about anyone she truly loved—not in present company, not with Emma staring at her so curiously.
Her eyelashes sweep up her tears before they fully form. "Shall we get another round of drinks?" she asks.
"If we're gonna talk about exes, then definitely," Emma's lips turn up in a slight smile, and she kicks back in her seat. "So what's the deal with you and Mallory?"
"Excuse me?" Regina blinks, already on the defensive from this little exercise.
"Carla mentioned you were involved with Mallory at one point," Emma clarifies. "It seems like you're still friends. Why'd you break it off with her?"
"She didn't support the career path I was taking," Regina cautiously explains. There's no point in lying to Emma over this part of her history; her employment records are a matter of public record, and Emma's ongoing federal investigation will no doubt involve interviewing more of Regina's personal contacts. "I decided to work for someone who is known for making questionable ethical decisions. I'm sure you've already talked to Mr. Gold."
"I might have spoken to him," Emma says, without allowing her opinion of him to show on her face. "He does business with a lot of unsavory people, but all of his dealings are perfectly legal."
"Of course they are," Regina laughs, though she's visibly riled by the reminder of Gold's practices. "His personal record is spotless, because he manipulates everyone else into doing his dirty work for him."
"Yeah," Emma softly agrees, though she still seems to be mulling it all over. "Is that what he did to you?"
Regina begins to shake her head, because this whole conversation feels like a perfectly set trap. "It's starting to seem like this is yet another interrogation," she remarks. "Let's turn this around, shall we? Why don't you tell me what went wrong in your previous relationship, and all about your professional failings?"
Emma fidgets at the prospect, but then nods seriously. "Sure," she mutters aloud to herself, and locks eyes with Regina. "I mean your friend Mallory seems capable of digging up the dirt on me anyway. I'd rather you hear the basics from me." She moves her glass around on the table, takes a quick drink, and then begins. "A couple of years ago, I was asked to interview these two guys."
Emma trails off as if she's decided to end her explanations there. Her story is choppy as she goes through a range of emotions; maybe she's never told it to someone in her personal life before. "They were defectors, and they wanted to trade information for immunity and protection," she breathes. "They told us the location of one of their bases. The problem is that their leaders anticipated what they would do. We raided the base, and they were ready. I sensed something was off, but I made a bad judgment call and pushed ahead. As a result, we lost most of my team. The rest of us became hostages. I spent a couple of weeks in a standing cell. Just when I was beginning to lose my mind, they moved me. They kept a few of us alive, and then finally it was down to just me and another guy." She holds off then, taking another drink. "They let me go after a few months. I still don't know why, but when I came back home, we had new trails to follow. So far they've all been dead ends. We bust a small crime ring here and there, but I think they're all part of a much greater network."
Regina's taken aback by all of the sudden honesty, but she has the sense that there's much more to learn about this piece of Emma's past.
"Anyway, I also had a girlfriend back then," Emma continues, jutting her chin sharply. "Didn't work out with her. She was my first and last serious relationship."
"Is that the woman who broke all of your DVDs?" Regina asks, if only because Emma's looking overwhelmed.
"Yeah," Emma shrugs, and picks up her glass of whiskey to toast with Regina. "That's not all she broke."
Regina raises her glass of whiskey and chinks it against Emma's glass. She has a newfound respect for Emma, though she doesn't say as much.
Ruby is back and forth to their table with orders, until Regina's bleary-eyed from all of the drinking. It's numbing, and as the night passes, Regina finds she wants to be numb. The thought of another sleepless night is what drives her, and even though her lips pucker in resistance, she swallows down another full glass.
When this one kicks in, she hears herself talking as if through a telephone that she forgot to hang up. "I think it's time you take me home," she tells Emma, mid-conversation. The churning of the alcohol in her stomach provides an added warning that they'd better hurry.
It seems like a long walk up the little stone path outside of Regina's home. Emma carries Regina in her arms, and the woman hardly stirs in spite of the steady rainfall.
Emma's forced to pound on the front door, even though Henry must have gone to bed hours ago. There's no other option, because she doesn't want to invade Regina's privacy by rummaging through her purse. As it is, she's going to have to face both of Regina's friends, and she doubts that'll be pretty.
Mallory props the door open, and her cool eyes travel over Regina as she waves Emma inside. "Take her upstairs," she instructs.
Marian's waiting in the living room, but she overhears the conversation, and gets up to follow everyone to the staircase.
Regina's bundled in Marian's borrowed coat to stay warm. They leave it to Marian to unzipper the wool, and remove Regina's shoes. Emma then lays Regina out on the bed.
Regina squints against the harsh light in her room and opens her mouth as if to speak. Her head falls back on her pillow. Tears stream unexpectedly from her eyes and her mascara smears a little. She sobs—a devastated, thick sound that comes from deep inside of her as she tries to sit up.
They all try to help her—Marian puts pillows behind her, while Emma holds her arm and Mallory pushes the hair away from Regina's wet face. Marian has to rearrange the pillows three or four times, until she finally finds the right positioning to make Regina comfortable.
Regina clutches at the pillows and turns on her side to stare at her night table. None of them know how to address her, and Emma feels particularly uneasy in the silence.
Marian's the first to move and sinks down onto the divan in the corner of the bedroom. She grabs a throw blanket and wraps it around herself. "I'm going to sit here for a while," she says. "Why don't you two go get some coffee?"
Mallory strides into the hall, and Emma hovers at the end of the bed for a minute before joining the taller blonde.
"What the hell happened to her?" Mallory asks, once they have coffee brewing and she's setting out the mugs. Emma's not sure how to respond, and she looks down at her feet as Mallory continues. "I have never seen Regina this drunk, and I've been with her through some pretty tough times."
This isn't so much a conversation as it is a chance to voice frustrations.
"Is she seeing a therapist?" Mallory rants, and picks up the steaming coffee pot. "She should be seeing someone to help her deal with all of this. I damn well hope she has the good sense to do that."
Emma waits for her cup of coffee, and pours sugar and milk into it. "Maybe it would help if she talked to you or Marian," she quietly states. "I think it would be best for her to speak to a friend. I guess therapy couldn't hurt, either."
Emma's only saying what she thinks Mallory will want to hear, and doesn't bother to offer up more advice on the matter; she doesn't actually believe that anything will "fix" Regina. Then again, she's biased: she's tried all kinds of therapies and none of them have succeeded in making her feel whole. After the failure of Operation Cobra, she'd been mandated to spend months in psych appointments and evaluations, and she had to lie just to get back to work.
"What those men did to her…" Emma trails off when the realization hits that she's speaking.
Mallory and Marian can only guess, but Emma knows—she read the reports, and even if she hadn't, she saw the handprints on Regina's thighs. Either Regina had tried to cover herself, or forceful hands had pried the woman's legs apart.
"I'm not an idiot," Mallory fumes, as if Emma has made some kind of direct accusation. "If all of my assault victims looked like she does, I'd win every one of my cases and put many more bastards in jail."
Emma wonders what might have happened if the guys she'd been pursuing had led her to the warehouse earlier in the evening. What would she have done if she'd come across their buddies in the act of violating Regina?
She snaps herself out of the dangerous, checked out state she's entering. "I'm gonna go… check on Regina," she tensely mutters, then wanders back upstairs.
She comes to a stop outside of Regina's bedroom. From the doorway, she sees Marian sit on the bed and rub her friend's back as Regina empties the contents of her stomach into a trash bin. Regina dry heaves a few times, and then withdraws.
They're all constrained by what they won't say, and the personal boundaries that Regina keeps firmly in place.
"I don't need you to stay," Regina mutters, when she's able to be coherent again. "It's just been a long time since I've gone out. I wasn't expecting the drinks to be so strong."
Mallory comes back into the room with a cup of coffee for Marian. "We're all spending the night," she gruffly informs Regina. "You have a guest bedroom and a couch, and one of us will sleep in here."
It's not a negotiation, and they all proceed to nurse their coffee. "I wish I had some of whatever you drank tonight to put in my coffee," Mallory says in a lighter twang.
Regina concentrates on breathing; she shuts her eyes and only moves again to swivel her head towards Emma. "You stay," she states succinctly. "Everyone else go to bed. I'm fine. I just need to sleep. I'm sorry for taking you away from your busy lives—"
Emma's surprised by Regina's choice, but doesn't even question it; she sits in the armchair by Regina's bedside, and looks expectantly at Mallory and Marian.
"Girl, I was just going to go home and watch Netflix," Marian remarks with a playful roll of her eyes. "By myself." Her attempt at humor makes everyone relax, but Regina doesn't seem to calm down until both Mallory and Marian step out of the room.
"Why'd you want me to stay?" Emma asks without wasting a second.
Regina flips over and runs a hand over the bedspread, smoothing it. "Because we hardly know each other," she whispers flatly. "But I know you're capable of being quiet."
Emma hunkers down in the armchair with a soft quilt for warmth. She shuts one eye and falls into a rapid silence—determined to prove Regina right.
Regina adjusts her pillow, and Emma can hear the woman moving around under the blankets. Then silence.
Sleeping in an upright position never bothered her, and Emma has no trouble dozing off. She's in the middle of a strange dream when she's startled awake by a noise—a loud gasp as Regina sits up in bed.
"You okay?" Emma whispers. "Regina?"
The next sound from the bed is a muffled whimper, and Emma follows her gut intuition – she gets to her feet and approaches Regina.
Regina gazes up at her in the darkness, as if making a wordless request. Emma slides into the bed, and Regina lies down again but keeps her distance.
Small shudders run through Regina as she takes in tiny gulps of air.
They're practically strangers, but Emma knows why Regina asked her to stay; Emma has already witnessed Regina in a vulnerable moment, and beyond that fact, they are beginning to understand each other.
They don't talk, and Emma respects the space between them, but she feels Regina's eyes on her even in the darkness. She watches over Regina until her eyelids droop, and then she sleeps until the alarm clock buzzes irritably at six A.M.