Summary: Emma is one step closer to discovering the truth. Regina learns of a rather interesting non-fact, but she's happy to play along.
Special Dedications: Alexander S, Ranma, AtomicStryker, mxwn, and tryllejens. Thank you.
Chapter Seven: A Miner Celebration
Two months after her arrival, the people of Storybrooke knew that there was a new sheriff in town.
Graham was gone, officially, and Emma had been working alone for a week. A rumor had gone around that Emma had never even met Graham. Of course, the two had met – she had to pick up the gun and badge from someone, and Regina didn't have a drawer full of those on her own person.
He looked happy to get out of town, and completely uninterested in anything else. The badge seemed like it was cursed to him, which did not help her suspicions one bit. He had offered a uniform, but she immediately turned it down - she didn't see the point of filling up her closet of clothes she'd never wear. The red leather jacket became the standard uniform to look for, and the symbol of the law from a distance; something Leroy was quick to realize when he was in one of his moods.
"Where was he this time?"
Emma bit into her grilled cheese sandwich slowly, smiling contentedly, before responding to Ruby. "The Rabbit Hole. Again. For a half-pint, he really knows how to put it away."
"But apparently, he can still get twice as drunk as a normal-sized man." Ruby grinned, swiping a fry from her basket.
"Hey!" Emma looked horrified. "I deserve a refund! You can't cook my meal and take it away. I paid for this!"
"Oh please, I gave you too much to begin with. I don't need you throwing your badge around."
She made a non-committal grunt. "Steal another fry and I'll put you in a cell next to Gold."
The waitress shuddered, while Emma took a sip of her chocolate shake, keeping an eye on her food.
Emma and Regina had agreed on keeping some distance between each other, for the time being, and so far, it was... working. Not working well, for her anyway. They still met on official business, and the occasional circumstance where Henry would be picked up by Emma while Regina made her therapy sessions.
She worried for the mayor, and she offered her help whenever she could, but the brunette turned her away at every chance, barely allowing spiritual support.
Emma had busied herself exploring the small, remote town, and she wasn't disappointed by what she had discovered.
Nicholas and Ava, two little troublemakers that reminded her far too much of a younger Lily and herself, had tried to get Henry in trouble at the gas station, and it probably would've worked if she didn't see them sneak the candy bar in the bag with the same subtlety she had when she was ten. She was betting they were waiting for Henry to cause a distraction for them to take much more. They had empty backpacks - another thing she and Lily did - and disheveled clothes.
After some, admittedly, very convincing lying, she found that their mother had passed, so after a quick stop at the diner, she and Henry set out on a journey to find the children's unknown father.
It was easier than expected. And how they did it screwed up Emma in a frightful way.
Henry quickly deduced that they were Hansel and Gretel, and said their father was a woodsman. Emma hesitated to dismiss him out of hand, speculating that there wasn't such a high demand for a woodsman in a town, and besides, the breadcrumbs must have been eaten up by then.
He suggested the man who owned the wood shop, but Emma countered that there was only one wood shop in town, and Marco couldn't be both Geppetto and the woodsman. Henry considered this seriously, while Emma rolled her eyes, and the siblings just stared at them from the back of the bug, looking like they were considering running away again. Luckily, they were in a two-door, but she kept a close eye on them – in case they decided to open the trunk hatch from the inside and roll out. It's what she would've done.
The sheriff, on a hunch, and with no clues other than an old compass left to them by their mother, took them to Gold's Shop. The trinkets in the shop were set for auction or return, having been inspected thoroughly by Emma, Henry, and after tentative request, Regina.
She seemed interested in a few things there, but she didn't take much. Emma wasn't even sure of most of the trinkets, liquids, books in different dialects, they were looking at, and she had a plethora of questions, and Regina tried to be accommodating. The bottles of body parts were self-explanatory, but none of them looked human at first glance, so she couldn't do anything about it.
When she and the children had arrived at the pawn shop, it was noticeably emptier.
She wasn't too surprised. If Ashley managed to steal from him, a heavily pregnant woman sneaking in and out, then anything was possible. Henry scoffed at her supposed ignorance, and searched through the store again, all the while considering the benefits of a woodsman in the twenty-first century.
Nicholas and Ava had become part of Henry's scheme after a moment, or they were just indulging him, and suggested some occupations; lumberjack, repairman, plumber, florist, and mechanic being the top choices.
Emma started to regret the entire idea when the three began pestering her to go to their locations, based on complete guesswork regarding fantasy.
It made as much sense as trying to find anything else in this town, but she was willing to play along. Today, like the others, were slow, so she could drive the kids around for a bit, before she was forced to take them to some foster care system out of town.
She hadn't considered that. She didn't want to consider that in her job, she was required to report lost children, and give them over to a system that she herself went through.
Not if she could help it.
She eyed the siblings listening attentively to Henry's explanation of the clock tower's sudden motion, asking questions not in a dismissive way, but with intrigue and curiosity.
Today, they were allowed to be kids. They were allowed to dream, even for a moment. They could follow their imagination.
Thank God for taxpayer gas money.
Emma leaned against the counter, tilting her head at Henry's wide grin as he began to weave the tale of Rumplestiltskin. Some kids could tell a story, some couldn't, but were very animated about it. Henry was going to be quite the tale spinner one day, she could tell.
She didn't believe Henry's words, but the way he told it, the way his eyes lit up, knowing that he believed in it with all his heart – she wished she did. She wished she could. She wanted to believe.
Remembering what she had come for, she went to the backroom, now easier to roam through, now that Regina – or rather, someone who might have had an interest in these things and knew it was unprotected and probably had access to a key – cleaned the place out. Less paperwork and less moving shit around, and nothing illegal, so she didn't really have a problem with it.
Perks of being the only officer in town.
She came across a locked door in the back of the room, and pulled out a hairpin from her pocket. She made quick work of the door, looking back to make sure Henry couldn't see her. They hadn't looked through this room at all yet, Emma not too keen on showing Henry that she could pick a lock, and not willing to share with Regina all of her criminal history. At least, not until she taught her how, on a future date.
She came upon a bedroom, and that answered the question of where he lived. It wasn't the junky pigsty she had almost expected, but... the man was certainly a hoarder. Shoe boxes upon shoe boxes of anything but shoes, vials and tree roots and string and... a spinning wheel? 'Who the hell has a spinning wheel?'
It was under his pillow that she found it – a small book, filled with details and records of his trades. He found a picture of the compass – apparently, he had wanted the trinket, as it could 'lead you home,' whatever that meant. He had last tracked it to a mechanic.
Emma's lips quirked. How... odd.
She was almost out the door, when a massive thunk sounded behind her. Whirling around, unfastening the gun at her side but not drawn, she looked around for the source.
Lying on the middle of the otherwise undisturbed bed, perfectly set and covered with dust, a leather-bound book waited for her.
Once Upon a Time, the book said on the front, and she'd be damned if she said her day couldn't have gotten any weirder.
"Ruby! Table Four!"
"In a minute, Granny!" She turned back to Emma, her eyes wide. "So? What happened next?" The tall brunette waitress had gotten invested in the children's well-being after she served them, and Emma had briefly told her what she was doing before they left to find their father.
She sucked the milkshake down through her straw, and after silent acceptance that there was none left, she pushed the glass across the smooth tabletop, which the brunette caught. "We found him. The mechanic. The compass started working when we found him, too."
"Wow... that's – "
"Yeah." She flashed a grin. "Poetic."
"I was gonna say 'convenient', but that works too. So, you found Henry's book?"
"No, actually. It's a completely different book. This one seems to feature our Mayor prominently; the biography of the Evil Queen. So, we either have a stalker who has complicated feelings for her – and I completely understand where they're coming from – or I'm really in the Twilight Zone."
"So you're starting to believe Henry's tall tales?"
"I don't know what to believe. What do you think?"
"Well... I think that I don't turn into a wolf at night. I think that Mary Margaret wouldn't hurt a fly, much less know how to use a bow and arrow. Doctor Hopper doesn't look like a cricket, nor does he look like he can jump very high." She caught Emma's raised eyebrow, and responded with one of her own. "I had to hear all of this when the old Sheriff brought in Henry after school. I don't see much of her, but when I do, I have to doubt everything Henry says, the way she looks at him. 'Cause when he starts talking about how evil she is... he's just wrong. You know how he talks about her. I'm surprised she isn't trying to give him back to you right now."
"Hey! That's still my son you're talking about!"
She gave her a look. "Figure it out, Emma. Either believe him or don't, because that kid is on an island. He'll either be more sure of himself and keep spiraling, or you break his spirit." She nicked another fry, and this time, Emma was too shocked at her words to pay it any attention. "And look, I'm not saying this town isn't weird. It is. Either way, it's something that needs to be fixed. Thank God I'm not the savior, or I'd be hearing about this shit non-stop." Her nose twitched. "Gotta go – I smell some patties that need to be flipped."
Emma caught Ruby's arm as she slid out of the booth. "Hold on – you'll think about what we talked about before?"
Ruby nodded. "Already did. I'll give Granny my two weeks notice."
Emma smiled gratefully, and Ruby smiled back in return, before she left towards the back. Sitting back in the booth, she sucked in a silent breath of relief.
"What was that all about?"
She smiled, her eyes closed, but she could recognize that voice anywhere. "What do you think it was?"
She felt her slide into the booth, where Ruby just vacated. "I believe Miss Lucas was the one who flirted with you the first night in, and followed up on it just now."
"You're half-right." She opened her eyes, and the way she smiled at her relieved Regina of any misconceptions. "I told her I was spoken for, and she's accepted that since."
"But... you talked to her before we – "
"I called my shot." She smiled demurely around her fry. "I know you usually get a salad, but you should really try their fries. Especially dipped in the chocolate shake. They're glorious."
She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "It can't taste that good."
"I think it's the salty crispness, combined with the sweet, uh, texture?"
"If you say so. I see that your paycheck is well-contributed into the captivating mysteries of Storybrooke."
Emma rolled her eyes, holding out her half-eaten french fry. "Just eat the damn fry."
"Miss Swan, I won't touch that fatty lipid sponge if you held me down and – " she stopped herself, watching Emma's curious green eyes smoldering, begging her to continue. "No."
"Oh, go on. I wanted to hear how I might convince you. I mean, I know all your tickle spots."
"Emma... please stop that."
She tilted her head. "Just a little harmless flirting, Mayor. I'm single, I reserve the right to mingle."
Regina bit her lip. "I don't see it that way. I hope you didn't."
"You call it a break, and that's how I'm treating it. We can still be friends."
"Yes, we can. But," her fingers slipped forward to Emma's free hand on the table, fingertips touching, "just understand that this is a process for me. I'm not used to this. That's what the therapy is for."
"Hey, I get it. I understand." She smirked. "Maybe I need to see a shrink. I never went through a proper evaluation to become Sheriff. I never even went to school, you know."
"I'm sure your sanity has never been in question. You seem to be doing a significant job thus far."
"If you say so."
"I do." She plucked the last fry from Emma's basket, and inspected it closely. "But I must question your diet."
"Well, running every day helps me eat this crap. As you have no doubt noticed, I have a good metabolism. I used to lift from time to time, but there doesn't seem to be a gym here."
"You have not done your research, Sheriff. There is a gym, on Distance Drive. I believe it's called the... Greek Goat?"
"Huh. I guess I'll look that up." She eyed the fry in her friend's hand, unblinking. "Gonna eat that?"
"Honestly, Miss Swan, you just talked about going to a gym, and you just had a basket of these. One more won't..." Emma licked her lips. Regina blinked, and pursed her own. After a few tense seconds, eyeing the rather limp potato stick, she flicked the fry into her mouth, before chewing slowly, strictly for her own benefit of the salty texture. The hungry way Emma looked at her was a bonus.
"That was a pro move," Emma commented, smirking. "I thought you didn't eat fries."
She swallowed. "Cheat days never count, dear."
"You cheated my cheat day."
"So arrest me."
"Tempting," she whispered, "but I have to meet up with Mary Margaret. Something about some candles."
"Yes, I heard," she groaned, her cheerful attitude instantly impeded by the topic of the insufferable teacher. Even with an innocuous life and a mediocre job, she had proven to be just as much of an annoyance as when she was aiming arrows at her head. "The nuns came to me last week about continuing Miner's Day. It's a rather dated tradition, where the convent sells candles for charity, and trade with the miners for coal, for some odd reason. I assume you'll be going to the park?"
"Yup. Wanna come with?" At the brunette's noticeable hesitation, she bit her lip. "I know you two don't get along, but... she's been in a real funk lately. I think she needs to get laid, but that might make her sadder."
Regina creased her eyebrows. "Why would Miss Blanchard be depressed? She seemed fine when I picked up Henry two days ago."
"Well, yeah, teachers can't look miserable at an elementary school, around their students. But I personally get to hear about how 'independent', and 'single', and 'alone' she is, and her adjectives depend on how late in the night it is, and she just goes on and on about how I managed to find someone a week after I get here – "
"Wait. Emma, you told Miss Blanchard about us?" Her tone was accusing, but her eyes told Emma that she felt betrayed, in some way.
"What? I know we were lowkey, but... I couldn't tell anyone?"
"... I didn't."
"Why?"
She looked at her like an honest alien, as if she had just admitted that she was a witch herself. "My position and standing in the community, Emma! I told you she spread a rumor about me once."
"That was after I already told her. She's my roommate! Besides, when I tell her to pick up Henry at your house if we're not back by morning, I feel like she could've put the pieces together. And she didn't tell anyone – hell, you're just finding out that she knew, and that was from my big mouth." She took a deep breath. "I know you don't trust her. And by the time you told me that, she already knew. Sorry about that, okay? But it's over."
"It's not," Regina said quickly, before she could even stop herself. "It's not over. It's a pause. But it happened. We have a history, Emma. You're the sheriff, and you're new. Neither of us need your reputation tarnished so quickly. I'm just..."
"Protective. I know. I appreciate it. I have the right to be protective of you, too. It's my job, in every sense." She grinned. "And I don't want you to be afraid of yourself, or of us. Then or now."
"I'm not," she admitted, and with the way Emma smiled at her, she wondered all over again why she had to do what she did, pausing their relationship. And immediately, her own question was answered. She didn't have a choice.
She knew that when the end came, everything she had been working for – everything that she gambled on, and believed in – would be worth it.
She squeezed Emma's hand, and with a start, realized she had never let go of it for the past few minutes. Reluctantly, she pulled it back. "I'll come with you," she finally agreed. "but only because I haven't made an appearance yet, and I need to make sure Mother Superior followed regulation correctly. For someone so conservative, she seems rather liberal when it comes to my instructions."
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Hold on – you have a problem with the freaking nuns?"
"You'll find that quite a few people have a problem with me. I've been unopposed for over a decade. If anyone could be right to replace me, or present viable competition, it would be Mother Superior. But she can't hold both positions, and she would never betray her cloth. She never really accepted that fact, and she resents me for it."
"So you just want to come with me to antagonize her?"
"Of course not, Sheriff! I merely want to antagonize Mary Margaret. Mother Superior, if she so happens to be there, wouldn't be an inconvenience for me." She blinked wholly innocent eyes, but it was ruined by the smirk that Emma was sure she didn't know was there, subconsciously.
"Fine, fine. But, I guess I should tell you – its only fair, since I somehow broke your rules about dating etiquette." She swung herself around the booth, and whispered something into Regina's ear.
She blinked, and when she returned to the table, even Ruby was intimidated by the wolf's grin that split her face. "Oh, really."
Miner's Day was setting up to be a simple affair. The booths were plentiful, and the games seemed to be doing well. Archie waved at the two as he sat on a plank over a giant tub of water, his other hand pinching his nose, in case someone's aim was true.
Truly, it was the first time The Mayor and the Sheriff wandered about together, in a very public setting. Emma's hands slid against the back of Regina's, and she couldn't bring herself to stop the blonde. In fact, she found herself returning the favor, subtly rocking into her, her arm brushing against the leather jacket in an overtly friendly gesture. Emma commented that it looked more like she was staggering drunk, and the Mayor only rolled her eyes.
Emma stoically looked ahead, averting her eyes when a nun wandered by – Astrid, if she remembered correctly – calling out for Leroy. "I meant to let him out for the festival tonight," she explained softly. "But I need to look out for him. Lucky they don't serve alcohol here."
"If anyone does, simply arrest them. It was one of my conditions. That man tries to sneak a cooler into this event every year."
Hearing a splash, they looked behind them to see Archie laughing as he was dunked in the water. "You ever tried that?"
She grimaced. "Throwing, yes. My aim is decent when it needs to be. But if I was sitting on that plank, they wouldn't require the need for funding for a few years at the least."
Emma frowned at the implications of that statement. "I don't know if you noticed, but no one seems to be looking at you with fear, or hate. I don't see any hostility here. Honestly, they just look surprised that you're here."
Indeed, she was right. As the two walked down through the moderately busy aisle, some stopped whatever they were doing to stare, or to move out of the way, but no one looked particularly afraid of her. Ava and Nicholas ran up to greet Emma, and after verifying that, yes, they were with their father this time, bowed respectfully to Regina before running off.
"Maybe I'll try the dunk tank," Emma commented aloud. "Next year. I might have a reputation by then."
"A pair of children just came up and hugged you. You're going to have to try for a harder reputation than that."
"Oh! Emma! Madam Mayor!"
An instinctual scowl appeared on the brunette's face, before she masked it with a smile. Emma took note of the features of her fake smile, before they both turned around to greet the school-teacher. "Mary Margaret! I see the festival is going well?"
"Better than any other year! I'm surprised we made enough candles!" Her bright smile was famously infectious, but it didn't inspire Regina's to be any more genuine.
"That's nice." She might have sounded pleased, but Emma could hear the strain in her voice. "Is Henry here?"
"Oh, of course! He just dunked Archie. He has a heck of an arm."
Emma looked smug, while Regina blinked at the information. "He does? He never seemed very interested in sports."
"We play catch on occasion," Emma admitted softly, and Regina snapped to her with a bewildered expression. "He might want to join the baseball team. He was gonna tell you about it. I guess it slipped his mind."
"I guess it did," she muttered, and turned to the teacher again. "So, you'll be selling candles until midnight, I suppose?"
"If we don't run out by then, yeah. Henry doesn't seem to want to leave."
"He'll do anything to stay out of the house," she said in a cheerful manner, which Emma deduced was entirely sarcastic. "I believe the sheriff and I will take two."
"I already bought one," Emma began, and Regina gave her a look. "But hey, I'm not a fireman; what's a little safety hazard? We'll take four."
The glare she got in return was worth the hit on her wallet, and she pulled out a crisp twenty. "To the Nuns and the Miners. May they – whatever the hell they're doing together."
"Yeah, I'm kinda getting lost over the details of this thing, too." The pale woman chuckled, opening her basket. "But everyone's having fun. This town doesn't usually do carnivals, or fairs, or concerts, so why not do all in one?"
Regina pursed her lips. "Concerts?"
"Oh! They didn't tell you?"
"That seems to be a recurring theme here, Miss Blanchard."
Her smile dropped a little, and in any other scenario, Regina's would have brightened. "Well, it was one of the things the nuns were supposed to pitch to you. I thought you were the one that approved the sound equipment, and the building of the stage... well, the miners decided to start a band."
Regina's jaw dropped. Emma cackled.
Mary Margaret had the gall to be embarrassed, holding her basket of candles awkwardly. "Oh! That reminds me. Have either of you seen Leroy? He's running late, and he's supposed to be their drummer!"
Suddenly, Emma commiserated with Leroy's need to drink.
The band – 'A-Miner,' they shamelessly called themselves – was immensely relieved when Regina ultimately decided not to pull the plug on their entire performance. She had every right to, as well; The fair took up the park itself, and the band, apparently, was a last minute addition. So, in a fit of worldly inspiration, someone had the bright idea to block the whole street with the stage.
Regina pinched her nose, feeling a dull ache in her head forming. Idiots, the lot of them.
Both Henry and Emma seemed to be excited about the performance, and that was their one saving grace. Fining them at a charity event didn't seem to be the right thing to do, and it was far too late to move the stage, so she decided to waive the incident entirely, and come up with a way to punish them later. Perhaps an unpaid leave from the mines was in order?
In the end, Emma decided that their punishment depended solely on their performance. If it sucked, then so would the consequences.
Personally, Regina assumed that by tomorrow, Emma would announce that their heads would be chopped off, going by the creativity of their name alone.
She cringed when Blanchard asked if she could introduce the band on stage.
"Miss Blanchard," she began, her eyes narrowed, and the pale woman flinched. She pursed her lips. "I appreciate the offer," she said suddenly, and the woman flinched for an entirely different reason.
"You do? Really?"
"Oh, don't be too surprised, Mary Margaret. I'm looking forward to hearing them play." She smiled, sincerely. "I've never heard them before. They could be a refreshing new sound for my virgin ears."
She nodded. "I've heard them. They're actually pretty good, when they're all on the same page. They work well together, but playing... it's new to them."
"Yes, I find that new experiences take a bit of practice. It takes time to get it right. I would bet the first time they played was painful to hear."
She smirked as Mary Margaret started to blush, and pressed on. "I wonder, do they swear in their songs? I hope Leroy doesn't have any authority over their lyrics. I'd rather keep Henry untouched by such vulgarity in music, for a few years yet. Innocence is a precious thing... in a child, you see."
Mary Margaret cleared her throat, her face a contrast to her forgotten alias. "B-but Emma curses all the time in front of Henry!"
"I'm not asking the mother of my child to censor herself in front of her own son, Miss Blanchard. Besides, music with inappropriate language tend to leave a bigger imprint. The way it touches a pure mind, corrupts you in a way that you've - likely - never known."
She sputtered. "I've heard swear words in music, Mayor."
She made a little hum. "I'm sure, dear. But have you ever let it take you? Let it sink into you? The rhythm can be quite sensual in some respects." Brown eyes sunk into nervous hazel ones, and the timid school teacher couldn't look away. "I find it's quite exciting. Music can be rather intimate, don't you think?"
"I-I don't know."
"Hm. Well, I hope that one day, you will. Maybe you will find the right genre you might truly love. Sometimes, I can be a melomaniac. Emma understands my particular taste." She checked her watch. "Unfortunately, I have to get back to the office for some last minute business; detour signs need to be placed around this area, thanks to this ridiculous stage. I may be able to catch the end of the performance, when I pick Henry up. I entrust you with my son for the next few hours. Please don't blow it." She smiled brightly, her teeth gleaming and slightly predatory. "But I have not known you to blow anything before. I'm sure you don't even know how to." She paused, purposefully. "You are my son's favorite teacher, you know. Even when you foolishly left your credit card unattended, he didn't buy so much as a bar of candy when he left the state to find his birth mother. Consider that payment for the book you gave him, that put him in therapy."
Mary Margaret worked her jaw, before snapping it shut.
"I must be on my way," Regina concluded, and turned away. "Thank you for the candles. I'm sure Emma and I will enjoy the cinnamon ones. Do try to enjoy yourself tonight, Miss Blanchard. You've been overworking yourself. Try to loosen up, will you, dear?"
No one could see Regina's devious smile, until Emma sidled up to her. "Wow."
"Wow, what?"
"You gave Mary Margaret quite the pounding over there. I'm jealous."
"Oh? How much did you hear?"
"I tuned in around the time you started referring to music as a penis. Think she's a fan of Hard Rock?"
She chuckled. "How long do you think it took for her to catch on to my innuendos?"
"I shouldn't have told you anything," she muttered, looking ahead as they walked. "I shouldn't have told you she was a virgin. Goddamn my misguided sense of balance and fairness! Not once, did she tell anyone about our relationship, and you just went right in on her, no lube, and, it was kinda relentless. Kinda hot."
"So you enjoyed it."
"That's not the point, Regina! That was a secret she told me in confidence! I mean, she's depressed, for God's sake!"
"I was just amusing the girl. I didn't divulge to anyone her squeaky clean secret."
"You call her a girl, but she's my age."
Regina shrugged, brushing her hand against Emma's again. "I know you're not a virgin, Sheriff. I can hardly see her as a grown woman again."
"Really? That's your criteria? Because from what you told me, I basically popped your cherry."
Regina leaned against Emma's shoulder, rolling her eyes as she did so. "Your arrogance knows no boundaries, Emma. But... yes. Basically."
There was no one around, walking through the empty streets of Storybrooke. The Mayor's office was in walking distance from the diner and the park, so neither saw the point in driving around since they met up at Granny's.
And even though they weren't supposed to be doing stuff like this, because space and all, Emma's arm found its way around Regina's waist, and the motion felt so natural, she just couldn't chastise her for it.
Emma felt a sad understanding for her friend. She had been told a version of Regina's past – how she was married off at a young age, how she was raised in the old ways, where certain practices were expected, and responsibilities were burdened on the undeserving. She was told of a boyfriend that was tragically killed, and how it made her accept her fate that much faster. She was told of her eventual escape, and her rise to the position she had come to, despite her deep-seeded hatred and shame at herself, and the eventual acceptance, and perhaps, desire to join Daniel on the other side.
That was Regina's version of events, and Emma accepted that.
The Storybook she found told a very different, yet terrifyingly similar story, and Emma accepted that, too.
Regina hadn't lied. She omitted the rather unbelievable parts, but it told the same tragic story, with an untold tale of revenge. That was the problem with reading a book – she couldn't tell if it was lying to her.
"How's the therapy going?"
Regina tensed, and Emma rubbed small circles in her side. "He wants you to be there."
"Okay." Incredulous eyes turned meet a gentle smile. "You seriously thought I might say no?"
"My problems are my own, Emma."
"Yeah, sure. But it's Archie's job to help you. And it's my job to support you. You're still my friend. And if you need me, to help get you to a better place, then I'd feel like a piece of shit if I didn't help. Not that I'd ever say no, of course. You'd help me. Right?"
"I would," she admitted, without hesitation. "But you're relatively sane, despite your eccentricity, most times."
"You love it."
"I might. And that alone calls the need for shock therapy."
"Eventually, he's going to ask for Henry to attend, as well." When she said nothing, Emma continued. "I don't know who you want in that room first, but I want to be in that room, with you. It might be too much for Henry. But it's totally up to you. He might not need the therapy, but he needs to talk to you."
"You don't think I know that?" She hissed, frustration slipping through.
"I don't think you know that you shouldn't have to do it alone."
They stood still on the sidewalk, across from the Town Hall, but the brunette clung onto the blonde, not quite willing to let go.
Emma maneuvered to circle her arms around her friend, feeling the tense woman relax into her like she had been waiting to do so all her life. It was comfortable - it felt right.
"When truths come out," Regina whispered, "I hope you aren't too afraid of what you might discover."
Emma crafted her next words carefully. "When truths come out, I know I've met someone who did everything she could to atone for her past. Your son will be proud of you, and I will never judge you."
"Spoken like a savior. Of a sort."
She chuckled. "Nah. I just don't think that's my style. I don't think we're born into a mold."
"How do you justify that statement, and also hold a badge?"
"Easy. I'm just trying to get on your good side." She swept the short brown hair back, and placed a kiss on her temple. "And Henry's."
"I should never have put him into therapy. He deserves to know... to know that I'm sorry."
"He does. You raised something special in that kid. Even if he doesn't know why, he just - he just knows. It's insane. You didn't just suddenly go wrong because he found a book. He'll find his way back. I know I did."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." She sighed, wistfully. "If everything I'm learning about this town is true... that makes a lot of things in my life make a whole lot more sense. Some things I can just assume is New York Fever, but some things I could never explain. Like the lady that pulled me in front of a bus once. She was a nut. And the guy that caught me stealing candy at a movie theater - which, let's face it, is totally justifiable, they're stealing from us at this point - and he started talking about doing bad things will probably kill me, and pulling a sword from a stone." She sighed again, but it was more depressing than the last. "I swear, sometimes I think the world is sane, and I'm crazy."
"Two peas in a pod, as they say." She held up their conjoined hands. "Wednesday at Noon?"
"I'll be there. I'll get Ruby to take my shift."
"I knew it!" she smirked. "So you did take her on as deputy."
"Temporary. We're just seeing how this will work. Not everyone's cut out for it, and waitressing is all she's known. The girl runs like she was on the track team, I swear. I can spare a couple of hours, but I'll need to go back before she realizes I'm dumping all of my responsibilities on her to be with you."
"You have my gratitude." With weak, reluctant arms, she pulled away from Emma's embrace. "I really do appreciate it. Have a pleasant evening, Miss Swan."
"Not that pleasant. I still have to deal with Leroy. He can be a real grouch, sometimes. And, if you're not doing anything later, I'd like someone to cringe with during the concert."
"I'll bring extra earplugs, should we have the need." She walked towards the Town Hall, before she stopped, and turned around. "Emma, if Mary Margaret gives you any guff for what I did today, just know that there will always be a room for you on Mifflin Street."
She didn't clarify which room that would be, and Emma didn't seem keen on asking for clarification. She grinned, and waved, before making her way down the sidewalk, a small pep in her step. Regina took a moment to stare at the retreating figure, biting her lip, before turning towards City Hall to put some last minute plans together, already missing her Sheriff's hands. 'And she wonders why I try - tried - to distance myself.'
As expected, when she opened the door to her office, her ever loyal slave was waiting for her, sitting in one of the chairs in front of her desk. "Sidney."
He hopped out of the chair and turned to her. "Madam Mayor," he nodded, tipping his cap. "A pleasure. I take it you have a job for me."
"Over a hundred, actually." She went to the table at the side of the room, placing a scented candle next to her cappuccino machine. "But for now, I have a single task for you to complete."
He said nothing, waiting for her to sit at the chair behind her desk. She finally did, not yet willing to truly relax and take off her shoes until she was finished with business. "As you no doubt have reported, Gold has been arrested by our Sheriff. That may cause problems for her in the long term, but for now, I have liberated a few objects of any worth in his shop. When he finds a way out, he'll be desperate, angry, and quite vengeful. I won't allow anything to happen to our Sheriff. When the time comes, I'll need you, ready to report."
He squirmed in his seat. "You want me... to follow... Mister Gold?"
"No, of course not." She waved off the idea like she didn't even consider it a viable option. "I want you to follow Sheriff Swan. Mister Gold has connections, and he may try to kill to escape, and if he fails in bringing her any harm, he won't stop trying. I need you to watch him, yes, but if he does anything unusual, steer clear of him. Only report."
"Understood," he nodded, leaning back in the chair, his beady eyes scrutinizing. "But why? We both know who the sheriff is. Why do you want to protect her?"
"Sometimes, I wonder that myself. I ask that more than you could imagine. But when I find the answer to your pressing question, I promise you won't be the first to know." She steepled her fingers. "Do not pry into her personal life, Glass. You'll find that Miss Swan and I may appear quite close. Do not question it. Don't question me."
He gulped, feeling the burning gaze of the woman once known as the Evil Queen, a woman he thought he loved, but grew to hate with the same passion. "Understood, Madam Mayor."
"Good." She allowed herself a devious grin. "Now, I understand that Storybrooke has had yet another new, uninvited guest..."
~Present Day~
Emmalina placed the last scrap of paper in her pouch, tying the golden string to her waist. "There, I think that should do it." She clapped her gloved hands together. "So, I have a hunch for what you might want, but I need you to say it - verbally."
Isaac Heller, formerly known as the Author, hesitated. "A-anything?"
"Anything within my power. So... yeah, anything."
"And what about the, um, 'price', that must be paid?"
"Well, you already paid it. You did me a great service. I would thank you, but I feel generous. So – what do you want? Money? Fame? Perhaps you want the world to believe that your books are slightly less popular than the Bible?"
"You can do that?"
"Of course, dear. That's what I've been saying."
"I don't get it. Why did you make me do this? Why didn't Henry do this?"
"Henry's a stickler for the rules, and as you've shown, you're morally dubious. And, the Writer can't also be the Dark One. It's one of those weird rules." She crossed her arms. "Well, Mister Heller?"
"I..." he licked his lips. "Can you change the past?"
"No." She allowed him an uncomfortable amount of time to be disappointed, before she continued. "I can, however, create an alternate past... which aligns with my plans in a downright unnervingly perfect way."
"Did you arrange for that?"
She gave a noncommittal hum. "I told you I knew what you wanted. Just say it aloud."
He took a deep breath, and made his wish.
Instantly, a white cloud descended upon them both, and by the time it dissipated, the dingy apartment room was lifeless.
Author's Note: Thank you to Sammii16 and barattadotjennifer for your reviews!
Next Chapter: Timeline-wise, we're approaching Christmas, and I was prepared to ignore and gloss over it, but I decided not to. Christmas is where the magic happens, so prepare for some freaking magic, people!
Remember when I said this will be a short crack-fic? I was so naïve.
