A/N: Oh, someone asked me in a review if there was going to be a rape scene in this story. There isn't, just FYI. Hope your week's going well!
Emma reached up and ran her hand over her hair, trying to flatten it as the static from the wool sent long blonde strands flailing in the air. The owner of the brown eyes watching her silently wished she was the one sorting out the wild mane, partly because she wanted to run her fingers through it and partly because the movement would mean her hands were finally untied. Her wrists were aching. And then Emma's gaze locked with hers once more and she forgot about her pain for a moment.
"My God, you're just a child." Regina said as she realised how young her captor really was.
Emma's nose wrinkled in a typical teenage way. "I'm seventeen," she replied, arms folded.
"A child," Regina repeated.
"You're not much older than me," Emma shot back.
Despite the conviction in her words, Emma realised it was hard to tell Regina's age. There was something mature about the elegance with which she carried herself but her features still looked youthful.
"Ok, technically," Regina pouted. "But I am an adult."
Emma smirked. "You're eighteen, aren't you?"
Regina bit her bottom lip before winching at the pain as the cut on her face tugged uncomfortably at the skin. She nodded. "Yes."
Smiling triumphantly, Emma leaned back in her chair. "Well, then don't call me a child."
"In light of today's events, it's a good thing, to be fair," Regina mused. "Chances are you'd be charged in family court, right? I mean, you're a minor."
Emma shrugged her shoulders. "I'm pretty sure that only works for less serious crimes. Although to be fair, I get all my knowledge of our legal system from Law & Orders but even the fourteen year olds on there who are charged with murder are tried as adults. I assume Dick Wolf did his research."
"My mother watches that show," Regina said, suddenly wishing she was curled up on the sofa with the woman, the two of them munching on snacks as another case unfolded before them. And then she realised what Emma had said. "But … you've not murdered anyone."
There was no mistaking the tremble of fear in her voice as she spoke. Every now and then waves of clarity rolled over Regina when she remembered that she was being held hostage at gunpoint. Despite Emma's seemingly kind nature and, she swallowed, her stunning beauty, the woman was still holding a loaded weapon and was part of a robbery crew who had already injured two other hostages.
"I'm not planning to murder anyone," Emma said quietly. "I've never even fired a gun. The thought of doing that scares the shit out of me. Although don't tell Neal that."
Regina couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Why would I tell Neal?"
Emma shrugged again. "I dunno. You were childhood friends, right?" Ever since she had found out Neal's connection to the bank and, incidentally, to Regina, she had been wondering about the history between the two.
"Barely. He was five years older than me. When he disappeared, we wouldn't exactly have called on another friends. Back then I was a snotty eleven-year-old. He was a moody teenager. Perhaps we played together when we were much younger but I don't really remember it. He was just the son of my parent's friends."
"I doubt you were ever snotty."
"Wealth doesn't counteract nasal mucus," Regina laughed, ignoring the pain which stemmed from her lip as a result of the movement.
Despite the disgustingness of the sentence, Emma laughed too. Regina watched as the blonde leaned back in her chair, seemingly relaxed once more. Just like her, it seemed as if Emma sometimes forgot the dire situation she was in and let herself act naturally.
"Regina?"
At the croaked word, she tore her gaze from the enchanting blonde and turned to Mr Gold whose eyes were cracked open once more. "Robert, are you ok?" she asked, noting how pale the old man looked, the blood now dried against the side of his face.
The man took in the scene before him. Was he concussed? From what he could see, a girl who was, even without the ski mask, unmistakably one of the hostage takers appeared to be laughing with Regina. The brunette, he realised, had been injured. He could see the raw pink flesh where her skin had been split open. He had failed to protect her. How was he going to tell her father what had happened?
Regina glanced to the blonde as she waited for Mr Gold to reply. Emma was staring at her feet but sat up a little straighter and tucked her hair behind her ears. She considered reaching for the ski mask again but the damage was done.
"What's going on?" Mr Gold asked at last, thoroughly confused. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm ok. Would you like some water?" Regina asked, ignoring the first question which she didn't know how to answer and focusing on how parched the man sounded.
When the man nodded, Regina realised that she had no way of complying with the offer she had made. The jug which had held drinking water was still on the floor beside her chair from when Emma had used it to clean her lip.
"Um, Emma, can we give Mr Gold something to drink? He looks thirsty."
It was at that moment when Emma noted she too was thirsty. And hungry. That said, living on the street meant she was often hungry. Glancing between Regina and Mr Gold, Emma eventually nodded. Standing up and tucking the gun into her waistband, she crossed the room and bent down beside Regina to pick up the jug. As she did so, the back of her hand grazed down the smooth skin of Regina's calf. The older teen jumped at the contact but didn't move away. Straightening, Emma didn't look at the brunette and instead picked up a glass from the desk. Pouring out some of the liquid, she gulped it down herself before repeating the action and circling the desk.
Holding the water up to Mr Gold's lips, Emma avoided looking into the man's small dark eyes which she knew were studying her features. Once the man had drunk the glass, she filled the cup once more and walked back to Regina.
"Do you want some?" she asked.
Slowly, Regina nodded. Emma placed the glass to her lips and tipped it back gently. She whimpered as the water came into contact with the wound on her lip for the first time.
"Are you ok?" Emma said, green orbs full of concern, as she pulled the glass back at once.
"It's fine. I'm thirsty. I want to drink even if it hurts," Regina assured her, nodding that she wanted more and that Emma could bring the glass back to her lips. Emma obliged.
As Regina swallowed, Emma's eyes followed the rippling of her slender throat, wondering what it would be like to run her tongue over the smooth expanse of olive skin. So fixated was she on Regina's neck that she lost concentration and water spilled out over the rim of the glass.
"Sorry," she murmured when she realised, reaching out without thinking and wiping the droplets away with the pad of her thumb.
Regina's breath hitched and Emma's movements stilled when she registered what she was doing. She stood, frozen with her thumb resting of Regina's chin.
"Um, where's my son?"
The two women sprang apart, suddenly remembering that they were no longer alone. Emma placed the jug and glass heavily on the desk and returned to her seat, wishing Mr Gold had not yet returned to consciousness. Regina watched her go, the exact same thought running through her mind.
Killian stood in the doorway to the HNT truck, staring out over the road to the building in which there were eighteen people being held hostage who were dependent on him to be rescued safely. Surrounding the bank was a ring of armed police officers, their guns trained on the doors and windows. He glanced up to the windows and roofs around and saw snipers poised and ready.
"Lieutenant Jones," a young officer said, appearing in front of him. "The car they requested is here."
"Good," Killian said. "Full tank of gas like they asked?"
"Yes, Lieu."
"GPS tracker?"
"Yes," the officer nodded. "Everything has been completed. Where do you want it?"
"The alley, like he said. Pointing East. Leave the keys in the ignition too but turn the engine off. Make sure the cops in that area stay put. And can you see where those escape route plans are? I need all of the different ways off Manhattan he could take from the end of that alley mapped out."
"No problem, Lieutenant. I'll let you know when we have that information."
"Good. And did you get an update on the security system?"
The officer nodded again. "Yes, they've shut the whole thing down. Our techs reckon it will take at least an hour to get it back up and running."
"We don't have an hour," Killian said, more to himself than the officer. "Ok, thanks for the update. Keep me in the loop."
"Yes, Lieutenant."
Killian nodded tersely and turned, removing his sunglasses as he stepped back into the interior of the truck. Sidney was now sat beside Henry and Cora was talking to Zelena who had insisted, according to the rattled officer who escorted her, on coming back to the HNT truck to wait with Regina's family. The older woman had her arm around the redhead's shoulders which were trembling lightly.
"The car's here," he muttered to Sidney as he passed.
Sidney excused himself from Henry and moved to Killian's side where he was bent over the table once more.
"What's the plan?"
"I don't know," Killian admitted. "I don't know their plan. We're missing something. They haven't asked for enough. I mean, yes they've got the car but they must know that it won't be possible to just drive out of the city without any consequences. So they must be taking hostages with them, right?"
"Sounds sensible, yes," Sidney nodded.
"But then even if they have a hostage so we can't take the car out, what are they going to do? Drive and hope we don't follow? No, there's another part of the plan. They're going to get out of the country somehow."
Sidney tapped his chin. "Did you offer them tickets to an extradition country? Or did they ask for them?"
"No," Killian said slowly. "Which is strange, right? And if we're assuming that we're correct thinking this is indeed Neal Gold, he's an educated young lad. He's not stupid. Yet his plan seems to be rather flawed."
"Call him," Sidney suggested. "Tell him the car is ready. Ask him what he wants next. Maybe he'll show his hand."
Stretching out his arms, Neal interlaced his hands behind his head and leaned back in the computer chair he now occupied, feet propped up on the edge of the desk. He smirked and winked at a young blonde hostage who ducked her head as soon as their eyes met. Shame, he mused. She was her type. But Neal wasn't into forcing women. Where was the enjoyment in having someone struggle against you? At least Emma, even if she was gay, didn't complain. And he knew she liked it, even if she might now say she didn't.
His attention turned towards Lily who was still standing, motionless as a statue, on the far side of the bank. Despite her earlier hot-headedness, he was coming to admire her now seemingly unflappable nature. He could tell Peter, who was stood behind him, was on edge and Emma, well, Emma was smitten. It was ok, Neal mused. Emma and Regina's little connection could come in handy for the next part of his plan.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small jewellery box. He ran his fingers over the smooth wood several times before flipping it open. The diamond glinted up at him, oblivious to the family it had torn apart. He remembered being taken by its beauty when he had first discovered the piece in his father's side table. What he had been looking for in the drawer, he could no longer recall.
Yes, his first thought had been how beautiful the rock had been. But then slowly he had realised that it was not a ring he recognised and most certainly didn't belong to his mother. And that meant …
Neal tossed the box onto the desk, much as he had thrown it onto his father's side table seven years earlier. Before he could spiral down the rabbit hole of hatred he felt towards the man who had broken his mother's heart, however, the phone rang.
"Hey Jolly Rogers," he said casually. "Got my car yet?"
"Hi Neal," came the now familiar tone. "Yes, it's in the alleyway, pointed East as you requested."
"Full tank? Keys in the ignition?"
"Yes," Lieutenant Rogers replied. "Now, what else can I get for you?"
Neal said nothing. A smirk spread over his face. "Nothing thanks. I would ask you to clear the alley of police but I know you won't do that. But it's ok. I'm pretty sure you're not going to risk shooting Little Miss Regina Mills, right?"
There was a pause. "Neal, you don't need to take Regina with you."
"True," Neal grinned. "I could take this kid I've got hostage in here. Cop shoots kid is always a bad headline. What's your name, kid?"
All the hostages knew who Neal was talking about. The mother shuffled impossibly closer to her son. Neal grinned in enjoyment at the ripple of terror he had created.
"Kid. Name. Now."
"T-Tommy," the small boy stuttered eventually.
"Tommy," Neal repeated. "Right. So Jolly Rogers, I could take Regina or I could take Tommy or maybe you want to piss me off a bit more and I'll take both of them. What do you say?"
"No, Neal. I told you, you're in control. No one is trying to piss you off."
"Then you must have a natural talent for doing so," Neal chuckled.
"I'm sorry, Neal. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"Nah, I'm good. Thanks for the car, Jolly Rogers." At that, he dropped the phone back onto the receiver and stood up. "L, P, stay here. Feel free to shoot them if they move. The paramedics will be in soon enough anyway. They probably won't die."
Lily didn't move. She just nodded slowly. Peter nodded too but Neal knew full well he would never fire. He walked from the room, picking up two of the sacks of cash as he went and turning right when he entered the corridor.
After a few minutes of silence, Emma couldn't resist looking back at Regina. She was unsurprised to see intense brown eyes locked on her face. She felt her cheeks burn red.
"Do you know what Neal's plan is?" Regina asked quietly.
"What?"
"The plan," Regina repeated. "He must have one. Do you know what it is?"
Emma looked down into her lap, mindlessly scratching at a stain on her thigh. "No."
Even Emma knew how untrue that one word sounded. But she kept her gaze fixed on her jeans, not daring to look up because she knew if she looked at Regina she'd break.
"Emma, if you tell me, maybe I can help," Regina said, her voice almost pleading now.
It was no good. She raised her head but her gaze darted to Mr Gold first. His eyes were closed. Was he unconscious again? As she watched, they fluttered open briefly before snapping shut. No, he was awake, she was sure. And feigning sleep to allow her and Regina some privacy.
"You can't help," Emma said quietly. "Just do as he says, ok?"
"What's he going to say?"
Emma looked directly into the deep brown eyes, pleading, filled with fear and apprehension and yet something else lurked beneath the surface, something that wasn't usually felt when one was held hostage.
"Regina, I can't tell you. If he finds out I told you, he'll … I can't tell you."
"Damn right you can't."
Shit, Emma thought to herself. Why did she have to get lost in those beautiful coffee orbs every time Neal was about to appear. But the man didn't seem angry this time. In fact, he laughed.
"Fuck, Ems. You took your mask off? Thought you'd win her over with your high cheekbones or something?"
If possible, the blush on Emma's face which hadn't yet faded got even darker. "What do you want from us?"
"Us?" Neal repeated, before laughing. "Oh, Ems, there is no 'us'. There is you and her. Separate. There's never going to be an 'us' between you and Regina fucking Mills. Anyway, I don't want anything from you except to help me get us all out of here alive. I'm pretty sure you want that even if you are mad at me."
Emma said nothing but she did narrow her eyes. "What do you want?" she repeated.
"Your fantasy girlfriend," he said, crossing towards Regina and yanking to her feet before Emma had even launched herself from her chair and taken two steps. Neal laughed. "Fine, take her yourself. I've got a job to do anyway." His face went stony at the final few words.
Emma followed the man's gaze to land on Mr Gold whose eyes were open again. "Neal, no. Just leave him."
"Can't, Ems," Neal said, his voice a little constricted. "Now I'm giving you a chance to take this sexy piece of ass out of here. I'd suggest you do that. I'll meet you at the back door in a minute. P and L are still in the front of the bank."
Torn between arguing with Neal and trying to keep Regina safe, the latter soon won out and Emma took hold of Regina's arm and steered her from the room. Two two women looked back in the doorway just as Neal swung the rifle from his shoulder and advanced towards his father.
A/N: see you on Sunday!