Sammii16: I have a thing for cliffhangers too. I love and hate them as a reader because they keep me on my toes that's for sure. I like to go for the emotional kind of teasing; giving readers a taste of sweet shippy happiness but then like, "actually, not yet, have some more sadness instead."

baratta jennifer: Ikr lol. I was wondering why it kept doing that because I always caught it after posting the chapter.

OnceUponAFangirlOUAT: Sorrow is a start. Thank you, that means a lot 3


The presence of the Charmings wasn't doing Regina any good, even if Mary was doing her best to be friendly and understanding. "Baby steps." Emma whispered to her as she tugged her jacket on. "Just let me help her get her soul back and then we'll work on her relationship with the rest of the town." It was still Mary's home though so Regina would have to leave if she wanted distance. That's how Emma found herself at the park with the former queen. She supposed that they could have gone to Regina's house, but Emma was tired of being cooped up inside and the park kept Henry occupied.

Regina was as quiet as ever, only speaking if someone spoke to her first, even then sometimes it took multiple repetitions for her to finally find the desire to answer. Emma might have said that it was the pestering that coaxed an answer but the other woman didn't really seem all that bothered. For a good while she simply watched Henry sit on the swing and occasionally converse with a child Emma didn't recognize. Summer was quickly turning to fall and the breeze that fluttered the former mayor's hair was rather brisk.

"It's my favorite season." Regina whispered.

As per usual Emma was unprepared for her speaking so she didn't catch the words. "One more time."

"Autumn. It's my favorite season." She was looking down, fidgeting with the button on her jacket.

"I'm more of a spring and summer person." Emma confessed.

"But it's not the same. The colors used to be so bright…"

"They still are." Emma smiled warmly.

"Not to me." She steals a peek at Henry. "Can we go inside?"

It was the first thing she had actually requested in a long time, so Emma nodded. "Yeah, I guess we can." Frankly, she was enjoying the last of the summer air, despite its chillier edge. "Henry, come on, we're going back to Mary's place."

"Actually, I want to go to my mansion."

Emma tilted her head. "Well…okay." She didn't really care to go to Regina's house, but she would rather keep the ball rolling. If Regina was finally willing to decide things for herself, then Emma was willing to comply. "What do you want to go home for anyways. It's nice out here."

Regina shrugged. "It feels the same out here as it feels inside."

"Can't I have ten more minutes?" Henry asked. "Just ten?"

"Your other mom wants to…"

Just as his face started to fall, Regina lifted a hand, "it doesn't matter."

"Does that mean yes!?" He asked hopefully. "I can have ten more minutes."

"Yes."

"Are you sure Regina?" Emma asked.

"I said that it doesn't matter. I'll get home when I get home."

It was just one more statement that chilled Emma. This was the woman who had constantly told her to do her job. The woman who always had somewhere to be at a certain time. "If you're sure."

.oOo.

There was a whole list of things that Regina didn't want to talk about and Emma seemed to have a talent for discovering and discussing them all. She had a knack for creating new subjects as well. Regina supposed that she didn't feel any sort of way about Emma occasionally taking her hand. But she knew that she should. She knew that if the wraith hadn't come around she would probably have far more than just a few qualms about it. She didn't like being treated as though she needed her hand held. But mostly it was that it was Emma doing the hand holding. Yet she couldn't bring herself to be bothered by it, the way she thought she ought to be.

Such was how they'd gotten home, Emma took her hand, practically leading her to her own house. She'd lost her soul not her memory. She tried to find it in herself to be vexed by it, still the emotion wouldn't come. It seemed to drift on the fringes of her consciousness, just out of reach. If she unfurled the fingers of her mind as far as they could span, she would only just brush them over those twinges of annoyance.

For the first time she longed to feel mildly irritated. At least it would be something. Emma allowed her the pleasure of reaching into her purse, drawing out her keys, and unlocking the door herself. The mansion seemed vast these days, somehow emptier than usual. She found the thermostat and turned the heat up some. She began to wonder if the house was really chilly at all or if it was just another side effect of her missing soul.

"Oh, don't tell me you turned the heat down." Emma practically whined. It was the most reassuring thing, that she'd said yet.

"When are we going back to Snow's loft?" Henry asked.

"When your mom feels like it, I guess." Emma replied.

Right now Regina didn't feel like it, she didn't feel like doing anything.

She certainly didn't feel up for another discussion with Emma, about her past. She thought that she should have seen it coming though. Her staring hadn't gone unnoticed. She almost wanted to cover the tattoo entirely. But if she did then it would be lost to her eyes as well. She assumed that Emma wouldn't bring it up again, but she really was as idiotic as Regina assumed.

Regina tucked Henry in before she began her interrogation, leaving the former Queen to assume that this was a subject that never truly left the sheriff's mind at all. Henry still seemed conflicted over his adoptive mother being the one to pull the blankets over his shoulders. And her lack of enthusiasm probably hadn't helped helped her case. Emma had stood in the doorway, likely thinking over how to phrase her questions. Or maybe she just went in with no prepared dialog at all…it sure seemed that way.

Regina sat before an empty fireplace—one that hadn't any use since last winter—reading a book that no longer struck her fancy. It was actually more of a skimming…less than that. She read over the same sentence time and time again with just as little investment as the time before, never truly reading it at all.

"What was he like?"

She didn't bother to mark her place before putting the book down. "What was who like?"

"Daniel."

She went rigid, wholly on instinct.

"Well?"

"He was a good man."

"Was?"

Regina's grip tightened on the arm rests. "He died because of your mother. All she had to do was keep quiet…" She was scared more than ever, for the state of herself. Where was it? Where was the rage that usually came with those words? Where was the venom? She found herself terribly chilled once more.

"I'm sure she didn't mean it."

"No, of course not." The words were as habitual as the rest. "Snow White, never means anything bad she causes." She speaks them without any passion, more or less because she feels like she has to.

"I'm sure that's not true." Emma chuckled. "Everyone has done something bad knowing it was bad."

"Is asking me about Daniel one of those things?"

"It doesn't have to be." Emma tried. "Did you ever talk to anyone about him? About what happened."

Regina thought for a moment. Gold couldn't possibly count. "No."

"Then why not give it a try?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to admit that it was simply a dangerous lake to swim in. In the same heartbeat, she pondered it to herself, deciding that now would be a better time than any to have such a conversation. With her emotions so subdued, she could safely tread those turbulent waters. "I watched him die. He died in my arms and I couldn't do anything." She was soundly nonchalant. "I tried true love's kiss—it works for everyone but me. I guess that true love's kiss only works if you still have a heart."

"You do have a heart, Regina."

She shook her head. "But Daniel didn't." The vast, hollowness within her seemed to expand and she began to wonder if she was still in a dangerous place after all. It would seem that she was still allowed to feel a very generous amount of mourning. "She ripped it out of him."

"My mom?" Emma's eyes seemed to bug out.

"My mother."

She saw Emma swallow. She reached out, once again her hand was on Regina's. She could see the blonde struggling for words. Naturally she landed on a very simple, "I'm sorry." Regina wasn't sure exactly what it was in regards to; hearing of the situation or for brining it up at all. She was willing to bet on the first of the two because she wasn't letting the subject drop.

Not entirely.

And Regina couldn't figure out why. Why she kept pushing when she saw that it put Regina in such disarray. In the same sweep, it rendered that, that might have been exactly why she kept going. She was looking for a reaction. Emma always had gotten a kick out of provoking her.

But this time her question was innocent. "What was you're favorite thing about him?"

It took Regina a moment to answer; she didn't think that it was any one thing but rather a series of many things—smaller and greater. Eventually she settled on the most prevalent, "he cared."

Emma tilted her head.

"About me." She elaborated. "He listened to what I wanted and did what I liked doing. Usually I was doing things that other people enjoyed. He was the only person who took what I wanted into consideration." She paused. "He liked the same things that I did. Horseback riding—that's how we met, he was my stable boy—walking in the woods, seeing who could climb to the tops of trees first, swimming in ponds that weren't exactly enchanted…"

"You never struck me as an outdoorsy person, madame mayor."

"When I was younger…" She stared at her palms, wondering where her sense of adventure had gone. Had it died with him? Would she have had any of that sense still, had she not lost her soul? "I liked his smile too." It brought a foreign warmness to her core, thinking about it. "He had a reckless streak and a bit of a hero complex. He was always so bold, he reminded me that I was too."

It was rather refreshing to think about him again and in a way that didn't find a focal point around his death. She could very vividly remember the feeling of his hand on her cheek and his lips brushing against hers. His palms had been rough and calloused, but he was gentle with her.

Something welled up within her, it wasn't like that ominous, empty churning. It was much more weightless. Kindly weightless.

So she kept talking.

.oOo.

"He was also dreadfully annoying, Swan. He knew exactly how to bother me." Regina noted but not without a hint of fondness. It seemed to cheer her some, to talk about Daniel.

"Like what did he do?" Emma asked.

"Sometimes he would howl like a wolf at the most inappropriate times. He liked to scare my neighbor's sheep. Father got a kick out of that one. But he would also do it when we were at Firefly Hill. Not only did it ruin the mood but it scared the fire flies off too."

Emma could tell that it was a treasured memory. She could see it in the woman's eyes. Eyes that, only moments ago, had been so startlingly vacant. She was scared that if she let the conversation end, that the glimmer would leave them again. "He sounds like a fun person."

Regina nodded, "he was." For a second, one terrifying second she was quiet and Emma thought that the conversation was going to drop. "One time he convinced me to break into a pumpkin farm and steal some of them—he told me that if the boy tattled no one would believe him anyways because he liked to cry wolf."

"Did they believe him."

Regina nodded. "He cried wolf, not pumpkin. My mother wasn't happy with the fines."

Emma tried to picture the mayor, her grumpy, uptight Regina eloping through a pumpkin patch, trying to find the best one to swipe.

"You would have liked him." She her look was faraway now. Faraway but almost dreamy. She wondered if she should keep the conversation going a bit longer. But Regina seemed to be comfy in her thoughts for a change, it might be best to let her do things on her own. Anyways, she need to make sure the woman still had plenty to discuss should her mood fall again.

Anyhow, Emma was lost in her own thoughts now. Thoughts that surprised her. Thoughts that maybe shouldn't have, but still did. She couldn't help but dwell on the image of a happier Regina. A daring risk-taking Regina. The kind of Regina she would have gotten along with very well. The kind of Regina who would have stole a yellow bug with her.

Emma couldn't quite grasp why—or perhaps didn't want to. But she couldn't help but create a scenario in her head, where it was she who'd snuck out with Regina to cause a little mischief in the countryside.