Chapter 9-

A point nonetheless

Her phone is ringing, that much she can register in her sleepy state.

It's ringing again and again and she groans at it but ends up lifting herself off the couch, leaning to retrieve her cell. She squints at the screen, her sight still blurry and cobwebs-filled. It's not Mother, or Robin for that matter, and she deems it safe to accept the call.

"Hello?" she rasps out into the line, her voice lower than usual.

"Err" the recipient on the other line pauses, probably slightly thrown off by that "Regina?"

"Speaking" she rubs her eyes for a long moment, trying to wake herself up a bit.

"This is Emma" the voice says "Swan" she adds and Regina is a little more alert after that.

"Miss Swan" she acknowledges, and that wakes her up almost immediately.

Emma's chuckles fills the line "Again with the Miss Swan thing?" she teases and there's the smallest of smiles gracing Regina's lips in the face of Emma's clear discomfort with formality.

"Emma" she corrects, imagining the blonde's nod of approval at that "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I was actually calling to ask" she hears an intake of breath "You missed the last two classes and I was wondering if something was wrong or maybe you weren't taken with the class like I assumed you were…" the blonde is on the verge of babbling and Regina decides to take pity on her.

"No, no" she reassures immediately "I, there were some personal issues that needed to be taken care of" she pushes out, and it's personal and impersonal enough to pass as a valid explanation.

"Okay" Emma draws out the word, her tone thoughtful "Is everything okay? Anything I can do to help?" she asks and Regina feels a small pang in her chest at the care the blonde is showing towards her, a practically complete stranger.

"Nothing, but thank you" she bites her lower lip and casts her eyes down. It's been a while since someone actually asked about her. Not how her job is coming along, not when she is coming back, not why she isn't picking up the phone. A simple 'are you okay' and 'what can I do to help', so easy and mundane yet so rare.

"So, I guess you'll be joining us tomorrow?" Emma asks after a moment of silence, and Regina thinks she can spot a hidden anticipation in her voice.

"I guess I will, yes" she confirms, nodding to the empty apartment.

"Good" Emma replies and Regina smiles at the one word response.

"Indeed" she draws it just a little longer, enjoying Emma's unexplained need to keep the conversation going, even if awkwardly so.

"Yeah"

"Mmm" she adds, a smirk plastered firmly on.

"Okay," Emma concludes and she sounds incredibly uncomfortable "I'm gonna go now"

Regina can't help the small chuckle that bubbles out of her.

"Alright, Emma. Have a good day."

"You too" she replies sheepishly and ends the call.

Already up from her noon nap, immensely satisfied with it being dream-free, she approaches her work desk and is surprised to find some more work waiting for her in the mailbox. She smiles at the screen, fingers itching to busy themselves already. She moves to the kitchen and places the iconic small pot on the stove, only this time she fills it solely with water. While letting it boil, she moves to her newly purchased tea kit.

It's funny really, Regina would have never guessed making tea could be so... what's the word? Satisfying. It's only after purchasing some rather plushy mixes of herbs and spices; ready-to-use bags as well as self-prepare individuals, that she realized coffee was a ritual more than anything else; It's using her hands for something, spending time on the process, that captivated her.

Now, she finds the same sense of comfort in picking up tiny jars, lifting the lid and smelling their content profoundly; placing the chosen winners of the day to her right, she grabs a special tea bag and a tiny spoon. She places small amounts of the content from each jar on the white, semi-sheer, paper before closing it and shredding the lose string so it becomes a small sack. By the time she's done with her homemade bag, the water is splashing inside the Finjan, ready for use. She places the bag in the water. Holding the strand, she starts jerking her hand up and down and then to the sides, shaking the sack until the water starts to color, molding the substances into one aroma filled greenish liquid.

The steaming water smells divine, and she can feel her body instantly relaxing, the mixture already working its magic.

Once deciding she will truly put some effort into bettering her sleep, she read about tea and its qualities; finding it a remedy to physical and mental problems at once if used correctly. Verbena Lemon to fight depression and the effects caused by lack of sleep, Mlissa to help fighting mood swings, Rosemary to treat headaches, Babong for a calming effect on the body and the soul and the list goes on.

With time, Regina has learned that some flavors of tea can be more awakening than coffee, and therefore, the importance of matching the perfect brew for the different times in the day.

Keeping the caffeinated substances out of her afternoon tea, she focuses on calming and headache curing herbs to keep her good mood going. She pours the tea into a large mug and adds a mix of sugar and honey, not being able, just yet, to lose the sugar completely; though definitely on her way there.

She takes the mug with her to her work station. Serene already, by the ritual itself, she takes a sip and lets the scorching liquid warm her insides, as it spreads all the way to her toes.

She opens the mail, reads the requirements and downloads the attached files. Then, she gets to work.


Entering into the heated studio, Regina makes a bee line to the locker rooms. She's far earlier than she was the first time, opting on avoiding the heavy socializing that happens before class by being in and out of there before anyone else arrives.

Ready for class in her second pair of leggings, this pair a charcoal gray, and her turtleneck, she leaves the locker rooms and heads towards the studio.

She's so focused on making it there unbothered that she completely misses a familiar blonde who's in the midst of supervising a largely built female in a weightlifting set.

"Regina" Emma calls and the brunette turns to her right.

"Miss-" Emma's eyebrows are already in her hairline and Regina corrects herself with a smile "Emma"

"Miss Emma" the blonde feigns thoughtful look "I like it" she smiles teasingly and Regina shakes her head.

They stare at each other, not knowing what else to say. When it gets too awkward for Regina to handle she excuses herself, and finishes her original route to the blissfully empty and private room.

She sits on a pile of mattresses when Emma comes in, minutes later.

"So is it taken care of?" she asks out of the blue, earning a confused look from Regina "The personal matter?" she clarifies and the brunette's shoulders stiffen only to relax a moment later.

"For now, I guess" she provides and it's not informative to the point of socially rude, but Regina suspects Emma doesn't really care about social protocols.

"I see" Emma mumbles, hands crossed in front of her in a tight grip, making the muscles in her forearm flex. Regina's eyes are immediately drawn to the sight but she averts them quickly.

"Are you going to do the pairings today?" Emma asks and Regina can't for the life of her understand why it is so important for the blonde that she does.

"I don't think so" she shrugs and Emma nods.

"You're pretty flexible" Emma chirps out after a stretched silence, her eyebrow coaxed in a teasing manner.

Regina feels the corners of her lips edging up.

"A former dancer" she shrugs but her eyes shine just a little.

"Really?" Emma perks up "Like a dancer dancer?" she asks and honestly she should since nowadays every girl who has taken one class in her life calls herself a dancer.

"Oh yeah" she smiles fondly at the memory "five hours a day, six days a week, twelve months a year" she provides, and when her chest puffs a little, she doesn't tame it down.

Emma whistles, impressed.

"Wow" the blonde says, eyes scanning her from head to toe.

"Well, I guess you could see it in your posture" she says eventually and Regina chuckles and shakes her head "What?" Emma questions amusedly.

"The posture is not from dance, this" she gestures to her straight-as-a-plywood back, even while sitting down "is all my mom"

"Ouch" Emma winces in good spirit, making Regina's smile a little broader.

"Yes" she agrees and they share a small moment of their own.

Then girls start piling in, grabbing Emma's attention but not enough to prevent the brief glances Emma sends her way during the warm up, the stretching and later when she's on the bench while the others pair.

In the locker rooms, the brunette gets to know two ladies by their names, making courtesy plans for coffee. Plans that probably won't take place in the near future, if at all. Still the room suddenly feels a little friendlier; some human warmth in a world that was freezing for a very long time.


She stops watching trashy, meaningless TV and moves to things that actually interest her. She watches cooking shows with a notepad on her lap, scribbling furiously as she attempts to get down recipes for foods that she would like to try. She watches Latin soap operas, or novellas if you will, which might not seem deep or meaningful but to Regina they bring sounds and culture that she has been missing in her house since her dad passed away. She watches National Geographic in an attempt to fulfill the promise her younger self once made to see the world; while not in the traditional way, she still enjoys it, embracing the world she's been petrified of lately, a world that is still scary but is somehow more achievable than it was weeks prior. And it's those small changes, those tiny little shifts in her soul and mind that spark a sense of hope. And that hope is followed by motivation, and that pushes for action, and just like that Regina finds a point again; small and realistic and so very simple but a point nonetheless. Suddenly, day by day doesn't sound like a curse but an inevitable road back to herself. Not her old self, she realizes fairly quickly, since she can never be her old self after such a life altering experience. But maybe a better version, just as beautiful as the old one, only slightly different, she muses to herself. That raises a smile, and the minute the sun goes out of its hiding spot Regina grabs a thick coat, places it over a turtleneck and heads outside for a walk in the park.


"So? How about today?"

Regina sends an unamused glance Emma's way.

"I thought you said you were giving up" she retorts because it has been almost two months of taking classes and Regina still retires to the benches each and every time they get to the pairings. It hasn't stopped Emma from asking her before and after each class, Are you doing the pairings today? at the start, and Will you do it next time? right when it ends. And it's the same negative answer, yet somehow it doesn't seem to deter the blonde instructor from inquiring.

It was about two weeks ago that she lifted her hands in surrender, with her head hanging low, and announced I give up. Her face painted with disappointment but her eyes shone with humor, and when Regina chuckled and responded with a dramatic finally, Emma's expression morphed into an easy smile.

They weren't friends, exactly, but Regina kept arriving earlier to find Emma waiting in her studio. There were one or two occasions in which Emma was busy with a client when Regina had arrived. Though that seemed to stop as soon as the blonde realized Regina intended on making it a regular occurrence.

Sometimes Regina would be almost thirty minutes early, and when that happened she would bring two cups of coffee to share with the grateful blonde.

Today is one of those days and she watches Emma sip on her coffee, enjoying the blissful warmth and alertness as it washes over her.

"Well, I'm getting back to it" she smiles and Regina huffs halfheartedly, she likes their weird banter, it's amusing and, all in all, harmless.

"So?" Emma pulls her back in.

"You know the answer to that" Regina chastises and Emma is smart enough, even after two months of befriending, to not ask why. Maybe, she muses to herself, this is why Emma so easily, and quickly, wriggled her way into Regina's 'acceptable people' list. The blonde reminds her of Katelyn, with her curious-yet-not-prying show of interest. It's the best kind really, it makes you feel wanted and thought of, but not violated nor interrogated.

She spent quite a few nights wondering whether it's Emma's character in real life or just a well-placed mask appropriate for her place of work. She figured that she has no way of knowing.

"Okay, so is it like a social thing, you don't want to do pairings with any of the girls because you don't know them?" she inquires and Regina opens her mouth to answer, but Emma beats her to it "Because if so, you can just practice with me, you know... I can be your pairing." She shrugs. Regina sticks with her regular refusal, but that idea doesn't leave her for a while after, nagging from the back of her head. Because honestly, it might not be such a bad idea.


"Katelyn?"

"Hey honey, thank you for coming" the librarian passes next to her in a blur, a pile of books and papers hiding her entire torso.

"Sure" she mumbles, her brow furrowing.

Katelyn probably picks on her tone and she's back in no time, pile-free.

"Lea," she breathes out while stacking another pile, this one significantly smaller "the other girl who helps during the week is sick and I need help with the children."

"Children?" Regina voices out in what could only be described as terror.

"Yes," her companion confirms with a chuckle, amused by the sheer fear that dances in the brunette's eyes "But don't worry, I will be with the kids, I just need you to keep an eye on the rest of the library, assist, and work the desk in case someone comes in."

Regina nods, feeling her clenched muscles relax one after the other. Two dozens of snotty, attention demanding little humans wasn't something she could handle, but a rarely approached library she definitely can. Besides, the chance of having someone arrive in the library when it's a freezing mid-week day outside is slim to none.

Still half observing Katelyn in her hurry-like state, Regina slowly takes a seat on a chair that, finally, doesn't tip over. She leans back and listens to the faded voices from the far end of the library. Every once in a while she hears a high pitched call that is immediately shushed, but the majority of the time it's just quiet mumbling.

She sees little human missiles running around the library, not even sparing her a glance while they try to hide from their teacher, who's right at their heels.

She can't help her mouth from quirking up at the sight. With a gun pointed to her head she will admit that kids are nothing short of adorable. Countless times she has found herself staring at women interacting with their children, finding herself slightly envious at the minimum effort and natural approach those women seem to have.

She might be like that as well, but she has no way of knowing; growing up as an only child to a mother who's an only child as well, and a father with nine siblings (that lived thousands of miles away) didn't leave much room for interaction with miniature versions of people.

She distinctively remembers asking for and about a sister to play dress up with. What she doesn't remember is a clear answer, always vague distractions and a moody Cora for hours after bringing this up. It has taken almost seven years and a very ill daddy to tell her that her mother was pregnant once, three years after she gave birth to Regina, and that the fetus didn't make it past the second trimester.

All in all, Regina hung around people her own age growing up; weather it was with her classmates or fellow dancers. She never got to have a nephew or a cousin to take care of and never babysat. Working during high-school was generally a foreign concept to Regina, one that didn't go hand in hand with academic excellence, as her mom kept insisting.

How does one communicate with them? What if they fall? Or find her scary?

Questions upon questions kept piling up, leaving her craving the interaction yet keeping her distance.

A soft rustling sound to her right pulls her back to reality and she's surprised to find an adorable blonde girl staring at her. Regina stares back, unsure what she should do or say to her.

The girl tilts her head to the side, her look suspicious, before breaking into a cheerful smile.

"Hey!" she greets, eyes locking with Regina's in a way adults never do "You're pretty"

"Err… Thank you" she says eventually, a little surprised by the directness and the complete abundance of social protocols.

"What's your name?" the girl asks, deeming Regina worthy of conversation, it seems. But Regina doesn't get the chance to reply when the teacher whose name she's not aware of, storms in.

"Penny" she calls, her voice stern yet not unpleasant "come here" she grabs her hand and the girl waves for Regina and then follows her teacher back to the group.

Regina remains still for a minute, processing the situation.

Eventually she settles in her chair with a book in hand, a small smile tugging at her lips as she reads.


She ends up staying in the library much later than expected, and the way home under the setting sun is rushed and uncomfortable. She makes it to the apartment when the last rays of the sun disappear.

Sighing with relief she enters the apartment and goes straight for the tea kit.

Her phone blares before she has the chance to open the cabinet and she rolls her eyes and approaches her bag instead.

Her brow furrows when she sees the name of the caller; not a person she would like to talk to at the moment, or ever, for that matter. Also not one whose calls you avoid.

With a headache already threatening to make an appearance she hits the accept button.

"Regina Mills" she answers with the most professional tone she can master. Some people shouldn't be aware of one's weaknesses, he is definitely one of them.

"Hello, Regina" he acknowledges and her lip curls just a little before she replies with a tamed, well practiced-

"Mr. Goldman"


Aaaaaand, you want to kill me. But you won't because you love me (hopefully) and because you want to know what happens next. *smirks evilly and struts away*

Leave a comment if you liked it (or if you hate my cliffhangers) :D