Emma avoids her like the plague. Tom is subdued and says very little. Grace does not bring Henry over very often anymore, likely at the request of Emma, and Henry looks equal parts frustrated and upset on the rare occasions that she sees him now.

All in all, she has royally fucked up, and she doesn't know how to fix any of it.

"I thought we agreed that Ruby and I are staying out of it," Belle says, concerned. Trina winds the phone cord around her finger with an anxious sigh.

"I know, but I just— I don't know! It's complicated, Belle. Tom is walking on eggshells around me and I don't have anyone else I can talk to."

She must sound pathetic enough because Belle relents moments later, promising she'll be right over. She arrives within the hour, Ruby dropping her off and waving halfheartedly at Trina from the car before driving off. The two women settle down in the den, Belle nursing a glass of wine while Trina sticks to water. She can't quite bring herself to drink wine now, not since finishing off an entire bottle and then throwing it up that fateful night after crying over Emma's rejection. She had been drunk enough that she still doesn't quite remember all that she might have said during that time, afraid she may have blurted out something she shouldn't have... which could very well explain why Tom has barely spoken to her and all but pretended that night never happened.

"Where's Tom?" Belle asks as if reading her mind. Trina sighs and shakes her head, staring down dejectedly into her cup.

"Working. He took a few extra Tokyo shifts."

Belle hums and tucks her legs in underneath her. "Okay then. Start from the beginning. Tell me everything that happened."

And she does— mostly. She leaves out the dreams and her own growing belief that Henry is hers and that she knows Emma from a previous life because the last thing she needs is Belle committing her to a psych ward, but she confesses the rest. Her emotional connection with Emma, her adoration for Henry, the fact that the life she once wanted with Tom is something she wants with someone else now. Belle listens with a furrow between her brows, saying nothing at all until Trina is finally done, falling silent and watching her friend with trepidation.

"How long have you felt this way?" she asks after minutes of silence, taking another slow sip of wine. Trina downs the rest of her water to soothe a dry, tight throat.

"Months ago, ever since that party where she and I..." She trails off, not wanting to revisit that memory. "Tom started coming around to the idea of us being monogamous and having kids, and that's when I realized I didn't want that anymore. Not... not with him."

Trina looks down, guilt stirring within her chest again. It feels wrong of her, to have asked and pleaded and pressured Tom for a family for so long, and now that he's finally agreed... she's the one who's changed her mind. She's the one who craves a new life with someone else, completely disregarding the vows she'd made to her husband all those years ago.

So much for 'to love and to hold, till death do us part.'

"I'm a horrible person," she whispers, voice cracking as tears sting her eyes. Belle reaches across the couch immediately to grab her wrist in a comforting manner.

"Trina, no," she insists, "You've just... you've changed, and maybe you and Tom aren't the best match anymore, but that doesn't make you a bad person. You didn't cheat on him. You've done nothing wrong."

"Wanting to start a family with someone other than my own husband isn't wrong?" Trina barks out a bitter laugh, swiping at wet eyes with a sniff. "I think Tom would disagree with you."

"He would be understandably upset." Belle frowns, gently stroking her thumb along Trina's wrist until the older brunette slowly relaxes from her tense position. "But that's life, Treen. Sometimes people fall out of love and go their separate ways."

"I haven't—" Trina bites down on her lip, her dark eyes conflicted, hesitant to admit her thoughts. "I... haven't fallen out of love with him. I still love Tom. I love him. He's my best friend."

Belle's brows knit together, her mouth tightly pursed. "Trina..."

"Am I supposed to just let go of the last decade of our life together?" Brown eyes turn pleading, begging for... something. Confirmation. Rejection. A lecture, even. Anything to take some of the responsibility off of herself, unfair as that may be.

"You have to make a choice. I'm not going to tell you what to do." Belle shakes her head, looking disappointed in her. "It's Tom or Emma. Either way, someone will be hurt, and those are feelings you'll all have to deal with like adults."

Setting her empty glass on the coffee table, Trina buries her face in her hands, groaning softly and rubbing the heels of her palms into her tired eyes.

"I'm being selfish."

"Yup," Belle agrees, smiling wryly when Trina sighs in frustration. "Can I ask you something?" When Trina makes a vague 'go ahead' gesture, Belle continues. "What is it about Emma that could make you risk losing your husband— your best friend?"

Trina looks up then, eyes wide with surprise. Her mouth opens and closes for a moment, floundering for some sort of excuse, but eventually the truth wins out and she slumps a little in her seat, expression softening into something that Belle's never seen before. Something decidedly not-Trina, and yet as natural as breathing.

"She makes me feel whole," Trina murmurs, warmth in her eyes. "Like a part of myself I never knew was missing until I met her and she filled that void in my heart. I... I don't think I could survive losing her now that I've found her."

"Well then," Belle says, and she promptly downs the remainder of her wine with a flourish and an apologetic smile. "I think you have your answer."

Tom doesn't speak to her.

Not when the first thing she blurts out when he walks through the door is that she needs some time apart, and certainly not when she nervously motions to the manilla envelope on the kitchen countertop. He doesn't bother opening it; it's obvious what's inside. He retreats into their bedroom, dragging his work suitcase and uniform behind him, and Trina doesn't follow.

An hour later, he comes back out, having changed into a cotton tank top and a pair of comfortable silk pants he favours as pajamas. Trina freezes in place where she sits at the kitchen island and waits for him to approach, eyes downcast and hands clutching at the counter. He sits across from her, clearing his throat, one hand rubbing nervously at his moustache as he stares at the envelope as if afraid it might bite him.

"Was it something I did?" is the first thing he asks, which sends Trina's heart plummeting down into her stomach.

"No, Tom. No. It's not you."

"Then why?" He looks at her, eyes wide and pleading, uncomprehending of what could have possibly gone so wrong in such a short time. It had taken him a few weeks to get onboard with the idea of starting a family after their argument, sure, but that was a reasonable amount of time, wasn't it? Hadn't she agreed that it was still what she wanted last week? Before she'd gone and gotten wasted in what was likely the most conflicting night of either of their lives?

"I..." Trina swallows hard, mulling Belle's words in her head over and over again, trying to convey the same to her husband. "I've changed, Tom. We both have. I just don't think we're at the same place anymore."

"Same—" He rubs a hand over his face, breathing out harshly. "You wanted a family, didn't you? I'm trying to give that to you. I told you I was ready for the same. How can we not be in the same place anymore? Did you change your mind?"

She wants to say yes, but the word dies before it can even escape her lips. She can't lie to him. Not when she still loves him, not when he's still her best friend, even if it's not enough to keep them together—

"No," she whispers, unable to muster any more strength behind her words. "Tom, I'm so sorry. I just... I can't. Not... with you. I love you, I will always love you, but I can't do this anymore."

He stares through her, sees the unsaid words even if she can't bring herself to voice them, and the pain and betrayal in his eyes is evident despite the steadying breath he takes.

"It's Emma, isn't it?" he says, quiet.

Trina's eyes close, lips twisting with sorrow, unable to face him. "I'm sorry."

They sit like that in silence for a long time, neither saying a word. Wetness seeps from Trina's closed eyes and Tom switches between pressing a palm to his mouth and running his hands helplessly through his hair. It's the most uncomfortable and disjointed they have ever been with each other, and neither knows how to put an end to it. Eventually, though, Tom is the one to be the bigger person.

"So what do you want to do?" he asks, his voice quiet, soft. Defeated. His shoulders are hunched and he looks lost, almost, looking anywhere but at her.

"I don't know." She's been saying that too much lately and already hates herself for it. "I'm so—"

"Don't apologize," he interrupts, frowning. "Don't."

Swallowing down yet another apology, Trina wraps her arms around her midsection and hunches her shoulders further. "I'll pack up my things tonight. Ruby's grandmother runs that little B&B down on Elm. I can probably—"

"Trina, I'm not chasing you out of your own house," he sighs, finally meeting her eyes with his own somber ones. "You put as much work into this as I did. Let me take a look at our finances. We'll talk to a lawyer and figure something out in the... the divorce."

They both wince. It's the first time that word has been outright spoken and neither look comfortable with it. Tom just nods his head, eyes averted, and turns to retreat, shuffling down the hall back towards the bedroom with his shoulders slumped.

"Tom..."

He hesitates, turning halfway to glance at her. He looks so small for a moment, slouched and sad, nothing like the charming, outgoing pilot she'd once fawned over. Her heart clenches painfully in her chest, sorry to have done this to him. To have broken his heart over something none of them had any control over. She wishes she could turn back time, kiss him and tell him it's all okay, make love long into the night the way they used to.

Another part of her soul wishes to be reunited with its other half more, and that is the force she cannot fight against.

"I don't deserve you," she says softly, and it's the truth. He's a good man. He deserved better than to be a middleman to someone who has already been claimed in a previous life.

"You're still my best friend," he whispers, and then he disappears into the bedroom, leaving her alone at the kitchen island.

Emma isn't home when Trina knocks on her door. She knows this, because she'd specifically watched from her window when the blonde left her house that morning, driving to work in that shiny yellow Volkswagen of hers, leaving Graham at home to babysit Henry for the day. So when the door swings open and Graham nearly chokes on his own saliva at the sight of her, she merely gives him a stiff, pursed smile.

"Hello, Graham. Can I come in?"

"Um..." He looks worried, eyes shifting back and forth as he makes sure to block the door with his body. "Emma isn't here right now."

"I know. I wanted to speak with you."

He looks mildly alarmed at that, but his proverbial hackles rise shortly thereafter. "I don't think that's a good idea..."

Because Henry's in the house. She cannot explain her sudden urge to curl her lip and sneer at him, but tamps down on the unruly response and instead tries to give him a comforting smile.

"Graham, please. It's very important."

He stands there for a long moment, conflicted and unsure, before finally backing away from the door to let her inside. A little gasp and a thundering of tiny footsteps heralds Henry moments before he collides against her legs, nearly knocking Trina over in his haste.

"Henry," she breathes out, heart warming as she reaches down to run her fingers through his wild dark curls.

"I missed you," he says in a whine, releasing her legs and holding up his arms. She happily bends to scoop him up, hugging the child to her chest with a sigh of relief. She'd missed him dearly, deprived of his soulful brown eyes so much like her own, and those big dimples in his cheeks and chin that look just like Emma's. He snuggles himself in under her chin contentedly and Trina momentarily forgets that Graham is standing right there.

"Sorry, he's a little clingy lately," he says, taking a tentative step forward and reaching out. "Here, I'll—"

"No," Trina snaps, and it's the sudden fire in her eyes, the way she turns away with Henry held protectively in her arms, her teeth bared in a snarl, that has all the color draining from Graham's face.

"Trina—"

"He's my son," she growls, eyes flashing as Graham stumbles back a step. "Isn't he?"

He doesn't know why she's asking him. It's clear in her eyes that she knows, and he wishes dearly that Emma is here because he's about one more surprise away from a heart attack. "You... you remember?"

She pauses, clutching Henry to herself, the little boy clinging to her for dear life. She knows, of course—her dreams and Henry's insistence and all of the little things that just add up—but it's still bizarre to hear Graham confirm it.

"I have dreams." She evens out her breathing, rubbing Henry's back in a soothing manner. It does none of them any good to be at a stand off in the middle of the foyer, so she jerks her head towards the living room and Graham nods, following her inside as they sit on opposite couches, Henry remaining firmly planted on his mother's lap. "Of my... other life, with Emma. In that strange fantasy world. They're memories, aren't they? They're real?"

Even Henry, who has grown up here and has only ever heard vague stories about his blonde mother's past, looks to Graham for confirmation. With both sets of brown eyes on him, the man is weak and relents.

"Yes," he says feebly, sinking down into the couch. "It's all true."

"Tell me how." When Graham looks confused, she clarifies, "Our past. In that other world. Tell me how I could have lived my entire life here in Illinois and yet also be... be the Regina from yours and Emma's world."

"Time works differently between worlds," he says, shaking his head. "Even we don't know the details. You—uh, Regina... Regina died back in the old world, so Emma took a portal to another world for a fresh start. Somehow, she ended up here and found you instead."

Trina sucks in a breath, head reeling at how bizarre his words sound. "And I'm... I'm..."

"A reincarnation?" Graham offers quietly. When she blinks at him, he shrugs. "That's what we think. You're remembering your old memories, aren't you?"

At that, she hesitates. "I... I dream of them. Like I'm watching them through— through someone else's eyes. It's not like I'm just gaining memories of someone I used to be. I'm still me... I'm still Trina Decker."

That's not the answer he wants to hear, evidently, if the anger in his eyes is any indication.

"Why did you come here, then?" he questions, guarded now. Regina bristles.

"What the hell does that mean? I know the truth now. Why wouldn't I come and talk to you two about it?"

Graham's eyes flicker between her and Henry, and she hugs her son a little tighter, protective, her heart clenching at the way he curls into her.

"You won't say that you're Regina but you're still here for... for Henry?"

"He's my son," Trina says lowly, warning.

"And Emma?" His eyes narrow, something angry and defensive rearing up in the way he straightens and glares at her. "How do you think she's going to feel when she knows that you know? That you want to be Henry's mother now while still living your Trina Decker life?"

"Excuse me?"

He looks more like the Huntsman in her dreams than the Graham she knows, his teeth white against tanned skin and his eyes dangerously slitted, hands fisted tightly on his lap, the knuckles nearly white.

"Go to your room, Henry," he growls, low and demanding. When Henry hesitates, wide eyes lifting up to Trina, he snaps, "Now!"

Eyes wide with fear, Henry scrambles from Trina's lap and retreats to his bedroom, nearly in tears. Graham has never spoken to him so harshly before, and Trina seems to sense the same thing, her eyes narrowing in outrage. She doesn't have the chance to snap at Graham, however, because he's already turning on her with all the protective fury of an older brother.

"Do you know how much pain you've caused her just by existing in this world? The face and voice of her wife, married to someone else. It was hard enough for her to pretend none of that existed, but now you— you just want to stroll in, knowing some of Regina's memories, just enough to want to be in Henry's life, but not to be Regina. You'll still be Trina Decker, living across the street with your husband, knowing the truth about all of us like some sick inside joke. Do you know how much that will kill her?"

Trina stares, wide-eyed and shocked by his outburst. Graham has only ever been meek around her all this time, always acting like a submissive animal in her presence. Now that she's outright differentiated herself from Regina, he doesn't look at her with the same mixture of fear and respect. Now it's just distrust and anger.

"I'm not here to hurt her," she says, quiet and cautious. His nostrils flare and she quickly holds up a hand. "I asked Tom for a divorce."

At that, his shoulders drop and his eyes widen. "You— what?"

"I asked him for a divorce." Trina exhales, expression turning pained. "I love him, but there's a part of me that wants—needs—Emma more. And I know she deserves better than to be the 'other woman' so... I ended things with Tom."

Graham stares hard at her for a long moment, blue eyes dark and conflicted. His eyes flicker towards the window a few times, towards the Decker house across the street, feeling sorry for his friend, but a bigger part of him is internally panicking at what this will mean for Emma and the fragile life she's struggled to build here.

"You need Emma?" he asks eventually, voice hoarse. Trina swallows hard.

"She makes me feel... right. Like I never knew there was a part of myself missing until she came into my life."

Graham's lip twitches into a tighter grimace. "Is that how you really feel or is that just what you think Regina would feel?"

"What the hell is your problem?" She slaps her hands down against the couch before she can stop herself. "I thought you agreed that I was a— a reincarnation! Do you just expect me to instantly be Regina now? I'm still me! And I feel that way about Emma. Me. Trina."

"That's not good enough."

"That's not fair—"

"You want to know what's not fair? Reuniting with your wife who's not really your wife, who doesn't act the same and has all this history with other people and none of that history with her. You think she'll be happy with that? You think she won't ache for Regina every time she's with you? That's what you want to do to her?"

He's not wrong. Trina can't argue that he is because fuck, it really isn't fair. But it's not like she can choose to suddenly turn into Regina, nor can she change the fact that—regardless if it's because of the Regina inside of her or not—she's fallen head over heels for Emma. Would it not also be wrong of her to hide the way she feels? To deprive her past incarnation of another chance with her beloved?

"It's not up to you," she says instead, not knowing how else she can continue arguing with him, not when she's at the mercy of her own feelings while Graham bristles in defence of his little sister.

"You're selfish," he spits, lips curled in disdain. Trina winces, hating that he's called her out on the one thing she'd called herself just a few days ago during her talk with Belle.

Selfish. For following her heart no matter who gets hurt in the process.

"I won't apologize for loving her," she says lowly, standing and striding for the foyer. He jumps up from his seat but doesn't follow, just glares at her back as she opens the front door.

"I knew from the moment I first met you that you would bring her nothing but heartbreak," he says, and from the far-away tone in his voice, she knows he's not talking about when they first met at Emma's housewarming party.

The door slams shut behind her.

"Okay, seriously, what the fuck is up with you?"

Emma's head snaps up, nearly clocking Lily in the nose where the brunette had been leaning over her just a moment before. With her hands held up in a placating gesture, Lily backs off and the blonde gives an apologetic smile.

"Shit. Sorry, Page."

"I've been talking to you for a solid minute and you only just now noticed me."

"Really, sorry. What were you saying?"

"I said you've been distracted all week and moping around when you think we're not looking. We're your team, Chief. And your friends. You know you can talk to us, right?"

"I know." Emma tries to look amused but really only manages an awkward grimace. "I'm fine, honest. Just tired lately."

"Today is not a good day to forget about my bullshit detector." Lily taps at her own temple with a finger before dropping down into the chair on the other side of Emma's desk. "Come on. Give me something. It's not Decker, is it? I thought you two had figured things out. Or are you fighting with that hunky brother of yours?"

"First of all; eww." Emma makes a face and squints her eyes at her deputy. "We're coming back to that later... Second, why do you always think it's Trina?"

"Cause that woman is trouble and you're neck deep in it."

Emma can't even bring herself to argue the fact.

"Besides, she hasn't been around lately. And you two have been doing your weird 'friendship' thing for weeks."

Emma does open her mouth to argue that one, but Lily is once again right. Trina had been going above and beyond in her role as a friend, dropping by the station every so often with lunch for Emma or treats for the officers to share. The woman was evidently bored of being a housewife with nothing but a house to care for, even going so far as to improve her own baking skills with all the goodies she's been making. This past week she'd been suspiciously missing from the station after Emma had stonewalled her on Monday, the officers silently wondering what had happened while their Chief continued on as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Are you complaining?" Emma finally settles on saying, leveling a deadpan look at her friend. Lily purses her lips and shrugs.

"She's been bringing snickerdoodles, okay? I don't hate her."

Sighing, Emma nudges aside the paperwork she'd been staring at for the past half hour and leans back in her chair, running a hand through her hair. "I'm a homewrecker."

Lily's brows shoot up into her hairline. "Wait, what?"

"Her marriage with Tom. Ever since I got tangled up with them, they've been having troubles. Not to mention the whole debacle with Henry thinking she's his other mother..."

"You know, I always heard that if a marriage is meant to be, then it'll overcome anything." When Emma narrows her eyes at her, Lily holds up her hands in surrender. "I'm just saying, it can go two ways. They get over this and it makes them stronger, or they break up and find someone better suited to them. What's happened now, though? You two were doing so good at the friends thing."

Emma hesitates, glancing down at her hands as she anxiously knits her fingers together. It wouldn't be fair to Trina if she told someone else, regardless of whether or not she wants advice from a friend. After a moment, she shakes her head. "I can't say. Sorry, Page."

"Don't sweat it." Lily glances to the side, makes a face, and quickly stands. "Speak of the devil... I'll leave you to it."

She makes a hasty retreat, leaving the door wide open for Trina Decker herself to slip into the Chief's office, an unreadable expression on her face. Emma straightens in her seat, tension winding its way up along her spine.

"Trina," she says, voice high and tight with anxiety.

We knew each other in another life, didn't we?

The words echo through her mind, taunting. She swallows down the lump in her throat and laces her hands together on her desk, wondering when her palms had become so sweaty.

"Can I..." She clears her throat, trying for a look of professionalism. "Can I help you with something?"

"I need to speak with you, actually." Trina shuts the door behind her, then after giving the office a cursory look, she begins pulling on the blinds to cover up the windows looking out into the bullpen. Emma stiffens in her seat, nearly breaking out in a cold sweat.

"Trina, what are you—"

"It's important, Emma. Please."

Emma snaps her jaw shut, saying nothing more as Trina hides them away from the rest of the station. With the windows fully covered, the brunette walks around the desk and stops in front of Emma, their knees nearly bumping.

"I asked Tom for a divorce," is the first thing she says.

Which sends Emma into a near panic attack.

"You— you what?" Emma gasps, jerking back in her seat with a look of fear and pain etched onto her face, because this wasn't supposed to happen. Trina was supposed to live her life, happy and unburdened, not divorcing her husband and losing everything she's worked so hard for. This... this wasn't...

"Emma? Emma!"

Emma blinks, sucking in air when she realizes she's not breathing. Trina's hands are grasping her face, her body leaning over Emma's with concern, nearly sitting on Emma's lap since the blonde is slumped in her chair.

"No," she cries softly, tears blurring her vision even as Trina's thumbs gently stroke at her cheekbones in what is supposed to be a comforting gesture. "No, no, no! This wasn't— You weren't supposed to— Oh, god—"

"Shh, Emma, breathe, it's okay." Trina pulls her close, lips touching her forehead, her temple, her hair, and Emma isn't strong enough to resist her, head burrowing down under Trina's chin as the brunette soothes her, fingers combing through long blonde curls. "Why are you crying?"

"I've ruined everything," Emma rasps, clinging to the soft fabric of Trina's shirt as it soaks up her tears. "I ruined your marriage. I ruined your life here. You were happy and I— I'm so sorry—"

"Don't you dare apologize." Trina's fingers find her chin and tilt her head up, watery green eyes meeting smoldering russet ones. "Don't you dare apologize for being in my life. Whatever happened since then was my choice. It is my choice. And I choose you, Emma White-Mills."

Green eyes grow wide, panicked but also... hopeful. Her voice comes out breathless.

"I never told you—"

"I know." Trina's fingers release her chin, trailing up her cheek to brush blonde curls back behind her head. "I remembered."

Emma gives a choked little sound, tears flooding her eyes again as gentle fingers caress her cheekbone. Her entire body is tight with apprehension, heart clenching in wait, standing on the precipice of joy and agony, just a single push away from falling to either side.

"You— you really—?"

"Not everything," Trina admits. "But enough... Enough to know that I can't be with Tom when my wife and son are right here."

Emma kisses her then, hard and desperate, and it's everything Trina has hoped for and dreamed of for so long ever since their first—and only—night together those few months ago. Months of maintaining a friendship that always teetered on the edge of something more, months of pretending to be simply friendly neighbors, months of longing gazes and lingering touches—

A moan. A whimper. It's hard to tell who it came from, not when they're fumbling together, Trina straddling Emma's lap and tangling her fingers in her hair and Emma running her hands up Trina's back beneath her shirt, missing the feel of her soft, warm skin.

"Emma," Trina moans, twitching happily in her grasp at the feel of Emma's fingers grazing the sensitive flesh of her sides. She tilts her head back, eyes falling shut as soft lips nibble their way down her throat.

"I've missed you," Emma rasps, pressing a reverent kiss to the hollow of Trina's throat. "I've missed you so much, Regina."

And it's that name, Regina, whispered against her skin that has Trina wincing, pulling back as guilt floods her belly, the same way that hurt floods Emma's bright eyes.

"Emma," she whispers, apologetic, and though the blonde doesn't pull away at her gentle touch, her expression has grown cautious. "I remember a lot of my... past life. But I'm still... I know I used to be Regina, but I'm Trina now. I'm still Trina."

"You... used to be... Regina," Emma repeats slowly, blankly. Trina can sense her growing distant and clings on even tighter, desperate to keep her close.

"Emma, we're the same person. It's still me. I feel her love for you. I love you."

Those beautiful green eyes stare into her, conflicted, so very conflicted. Trina cradles her face and kisses her again, soft and chaste, feeling the way Emma melts into her.

"Give me a chance," she murmurs. "Give me time. It'll come back to me. Please."

And she knows, from the way green eyes soften to the way Emma curls into her, that she still has a chance. She can't screw it up this time. She needs Emma and Henry. She needs her wife and son.

"We need to do this right," Emma says roughly, leaning back to wipe the wetness away from her eyes. Trina nods along, ready to do whatever it is the blonde wants. "You're still married right now. You and Tom need to... to get things sorted out. And I need to talk to Henry and... We can't rush into things. You're... adjusting. And we can't tell anyone else about our past life, so we have to do this properly, take it slow and date and—"

She stops at the touch of a finger to her lips, blinking up at Trina as the brunette smiles softly. "Whatever you want is what we'll do, Emma. Deep breath, okay? We'll do this right, I promise."

Emma nods, her smile small and hesitant. Trina lowers her hand and gently kisses her again, unable to resist.

"We'll be alright, won't we?" she asks softly.

"Yeah." Emma stares into her eyes as if searching for something. After a moment, she softens under Trina's touch, eyes fluttering when the brunette's thumb strokes across the plane of her cheekbone. "We'll be alright... Trina."

The smile Trina gives her is blinding.

"Hey, babe." Ruby deposits a takeout coffee on Belle's desk, leaning down to kiss her girlfriend as Lily snatches the tray of remaining coffees from her hand to gleefully distribute.

"Heya. Thanks." Cradling the drink between her hands, Belle hums and breathes in deeply of the sweet-bitter concoction, eyes fluttering shut with delight. "Granny always makes the best mochas. Tell her I love her."

Humming, Ruby drops down into the chair next to her girlfriend's desk, throwing one leg over the other into what looks like an uncomfortable position, but the lanky brunette just sinks down against the chair with a content sigh.

"Is Trina still here?" She, like the rest of the station, has noticed the week-long absence of Emma's "platonic best friend", so they couldn't quite stop the urge to gossip when Trina had entered the Chief's office earlier that day and promptly covered all the windows. Belle shakes her head, smiling wryly.

"No, she left a while ago. But she looked quite happy."

"Oh?" Ruby quirks a brow. Belle had confessed about her and Trina's talk after that housewarming debacle a few months back, and then of her visit to the Decker household last weekend, but Ruby never expected much of it. Trina and Tom had been glued at the hip for the six years they'd known each other and she honestly didn't think that would end because of Emma's presence. Evidently, she'd thought wrong.

"She must have made her decision."

"And she chose Emma?" Ruby cranes her head around to look at the office, but the window shutters are still down.

"I think so. Emma's the only one who's made her smile like that in a long time."

Ruby sighs, scratching at her head. "Yeah... Poor Tom. But, I mean, if we all saw how obsessed Trina had been over Emma since the very beginning, Tom must've seen it coming from a million miles away."

"Pretty sure it doesn't make it any easier to swallow. But I am glad that Trina and Emma are finally figuring things out." Belle smiles wryly and swats at Ruby's hand when her girlfriend tries to steal her drink, instead motioning with a head bob to where Mulan is exiting the women's locker room, already changed into civilian clothing. "Someone's looking dolled up and handsome."

"Who?" Ruby looks over and promptly whistles at the sight of Mulan trying to slip quietly from the bullpen. The woman is dressed to the nines in a feminine suit, trim black slacks highlighting her narrow waist and a deep satin green blouse peeking out from under a sleek coat. "Hey, Fa, my girlfriend thinks you're handsome!"

Mulan jumps like a startled cat and turns about as red as a tomato as she continues inching towards the exit. "Um, thank you. Good evening."

And then she's gone, bolting out the door before any other officer can heckle her about why she looks dressed for a date.

"She's dressed for a date," Belle chuckles.

"The important question is: with who?" Ruby snaps her fingers. "Betcha it's that little fox from when we were at 54."

"Who, Rory? Didn't she say she wasn't gay?"

"You said you weren't gay before I got my claws in you," Ruby purrs, winking. "Or, well... my fingers."

Belle bursts out laughing and slaps her girlfriend on the chest in retribution.

"Where'd Mulan go?" Emma asks, finally appearing from within her office with a lovestruck look, clutching a disorganized stack of papers in her hands as if making a sad attempt at looking like she'd been working. Her hair is disheveled and there's a smudge of lipstick on her otherwise bare lips, and there's a snort of knowing laughter from Cassidy and Booth's desks that is immediately silenced when Belle glares at them.

"The real question, Chief, is where did Trina go?" Ruby teases, to which Emma blushes fiercely.

"Um, home...? I don't know. We just... had a chat. That's all." Clearing her throat, Emma dumps a few forms down onto Mulan's desk and then flees back into her office. Belle eyes her girlfriend with bemusement.

"I thought you were mad at Trina for a while there."

"Eh. Disappointed, more like." Ruby sucks on her teeth for a moment, thoughtful. "I hated that she was hurting Emma, bouncing around indecisively like that. But now, honestly? I'm kind of proud that she's finally made a choice. Someone was going to get hurt in the process eventually, and I am sorry for Tom, but Treen and Emma have this thing and it just feels right to see them together, you know?"

Belle nods in agreement. "Like they were meant to be?"

"Yeah. And they finally got their heads out of their asses and found each other again. Kinda like you and me."

Belle chuckles, pulling her girlfriend closer by her lapels to kiss her chastely. "You're cheese, you know that?"

"The cheesiest," Ruby agrees, kissing her right back.

Update: Yes, I'm still here. No, this story is not abandoned. I work in the film and TV industry so sometimes I get really busy, but I promise this fic WILL be finished eventually. In the meantime, feel free to follow me on social media to get updates, check that I'm still alive, and see other artwork and goodies I may post! I'm planning on doing a few SwanQueen giveaways on social media soon! ;D

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