In the third quarter of a tied-game rivalry
So just say how to make it right
And I swear I'll do my best to comply
I know that I have made mistakes and I swear
I'll never wrong you again
"Nothing Better" – The Postal Service
Coveted – Chapter 11
Emma's head is pounding and her back aches with a strange stabbing pain when she slowly regains consciousness. The bed feels familiar, but she knows it's not her own. She can feel that she's still dressed, which brings a sudden wave of relief. The evening's events are sketchy and refuse to come together in her addled mind. Her eyes flutter open gradually and her pupils dilate as she takes in her surroundings. Oh fuck, Emma thinks through a hazy fog. She rolls onto her back to check for Ruby, but the bedroom is empty. Emma has no idea if that is a good sign or bad. She can't seem to remember getting here last night. The last thing she remembers was having some kind of conversation with Regina, but even though she feels the intensity of their meeting in her chest, she cannot remember what they had said to each other. Despite her lack of memory, discomfort born of guilt rolls around in her stomach until it forces her out of bed and running to the bathroom. The cold water splashing on her face makes Emma feel slightly better, and she finds the energy to emerge from the bedroom.
"Hey," Emma says almost to her feet rather than to Ruby who is sitting on a bench under the living room window. Ruby doesn't speak, but she turns her gaze to Emma. The sight of her fidgeting in the doorway causes the heat to rise in Ruby's body. She wrestles the desire to sprint across the room and slap Emma in the face, and unfolds her legs to stand and glide to the kitchen where she wordlessly pours herself coffee. She doesn't need the caffeine to stay awake, but feels compelled to keep her hands occupied.
"Listen," Emma begins in a soft tone, eyes still lowered. "I'm sorry I came here. I guess I had a bit too much to drink. I didn't mean to. . ." Emma's voice trails off into nothing. Green eyes move quickly to steal a furtive glance in Ruby's direction. Emma has never seen the other woman so quiet. So still. The nausea in Emma's stomach swells. "I mean. . . I meant to see you of course. . . I just didn't mean to bother you. I guess I didn't know where else to go." Emma tries to explain, but her head is pounding as hard as her heart, and she doesn't exactly know what she's saying. The moments tick by in silence, and each second brings Emma closer to a panic attack. Her hands are sweaty and her muscles are contracting from the tension coiling within them. She wishes Ruby would say something instead of just looking at her with a blank expression. Emma can't tell what she is thinking at all, and it's making her anxiety increase exponentially.
"I mean, I didn't only come here as a last resort," Emma tries to correct herself when she thinks better of her previous statement, but her words feel heavy and awkward on her tongue, and all she can really think about is throwing up the contents of her stomach. "I would have –"
"You could have stayed with her." Ruby interrupts calmly watching the milk she poured into her coffee swirl artfully around in her mug.
Emma's words lodge in her esophagus and she tries to sputter out a coherent response, but no sound passes her lips while her mouth hangs open.
"If you try to lie to me and tell me you weren't with her, I will never speak to you again." Ruby's huge brown eyes finally lift from her cup and focus in on Emma. The honesty in her statement is clear, and Emma closes her mouth halting the bullshit she was about to utter.
The quiet admission sends a cold spike of pain through Ruby's heart. Until that moment a part of her had hoped her instincts had been wrong. Emma's miserable face and slumped shoulders confirm her suspicions.
"Get out." Ruby orders more evenly than she expects given the rage vibrating in her body.
"Ruby, please, don't do this. Don't shut me out." Emma begs with her eyes full of sorrow. She can't explain the sudden urge she feels to keep Ruby. Perhaps it is fear of being alone, of losing everything, of living the hell of the last few weeks forever – whatever it is, it spurs Emma forward. She needs Ruby, she needs safety and love and someone who isn't Toxic-As-Fuck Regina. Emma approaches Ruby slowly, and makes it within a couple of feet before Ruby steps back indicating that is as close as she is getting. "Just don't shut me out." Emma repeats in a low voice.
"Don't shut you out? I haven't heard from you in weeks! Weeks! And then you show up on my doorstep drunk and reeking like her, and you don't want me to shut you out?!" Ruby's face breaks with her anger and all Emma can do is stare at her feet like a scolded child.
They stand in silence when Ruby stops screaming. She takes in the pathetic state of Emma in front of her. She wonders if Emma ever really loved her – if she ever really loved Emma – perhaps it had been an infatuation, a desire for excitement. Ruby remembers when Emma first showed up in Storybrooke, so new and exhilarating. It felt like Emma had literally breathed life into the town. Into her. Ruby had been smitten from the start, but she always felt a hesitance from Emma, like there were parts of her she could never reach. Maybe that's what she found in Regina, Ruby thinks sadly. Emma had been Ruby's first real relationship, and perhaps she had made too much of it. The crack in Ruby's heart grows larger at the thought. "I really think you should go." Ruby finally says, turning her back from Emma.
"I. . . I'm sorry." Emma says, her voice cracking and tears streaming down her face. She has no idea how to make this better, for herself or for Ruby. She just wants to make it right with everyone, but it seems like all roads lead to Emma being unhappy and alone. "I can fix this, just give me a chance." Emma says, her words choking with sorrow. Ruby holds down the sob fighting to break free from her chest. She won't let Emma see her fall apart.
Emma hesitates. She wants to say something – do something– before leaving, but she can't think of anything that won't make the situation worse and grabs her coat before walking out of Ruby's apartment without another word. As soon as the door clicks closed, Ruby rushes to Granny's room and gets in her bed. She can't stand the smell of Emma on her sheets. It will only make the pain in her chest worse, and Ruby's heartache is at maximum capacity as she sobs into her grandmother's pillow.
The morning is bright and cold causing Emma to wince when she leaves Ruby's apartment. Emma vaguely remembers taking a cab to Ruby's the night before and starts walking home where she can shower and try to collect herself before finding her car and going to work.
Emma's mind is racing. Her thoughts of Ruby are constantly bombarded with images of Regina. They are just intrusive flashes, but they are enough to throw Emma off kilter. She feels like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde are waging war inside of her, and she has no idea who will win. All she can understand is the overwhelming fear of losing Ruby and ending up alone. . . unloved. . . unwanted.
Maybe if I can somehow call a truce with Regina. . . I might be able to salvage some part of my life. Emma thinks as she nears her apartment. Her attempt to talk to Regina had been thwarted before, but maybe it was worth another try. She knows that any peace with Regina will be far from the easiest option, but she can't see any other solution. She will have to admit to defeat and humble herself. The thought makes Emma's stomach turn and she has to quell the rage that sparks in her chest. She shakes her head and tells herself that it's either this or leaving Storybrooke for good. The truth of it does nothing to ease Emma's discomfort. Regina Mills really did always win and the unfairness of it all was maddening.
Regina shoots up in her bed. Cream-colored silk sheets sticking to her sweat moistened skin. Another night has brought her yet another nightmare. She manages to slow her racing heart and wipes her brow with the back of her hand. Regina shuts her eyes tightly as if that will clear the images in her mind. She takes deep breathes to calm herself.
When she catches her breath, Regina descends the stairs silently and pads into the kitchen for a glass of water. The cold of the marble tiles feels good on her feet as she drains one glass of water and then another. A light tapping noise at the front door causes her to jump. For a moment Regina is not even sure that she heard anything at all, but she wraps her satin robe tightly around herself before investigating the sound.
It could have been anyone coming to her about a town emergency in the middle of night, but as Regina nears her front door she narrows it down to one possibility. Regina considers not opening the door. The knock had been so faint she would never have heard it from her bedroom. That was as plausible excuse as any for not opening the door in the dead of night. But the curiosity is too strong. Regina can't help but need to know what Emma wants.
Regina sets her expression to tacit annoyance and opens her front door. But instead of a dithering blonde, Regina is greeted by an empty porch. Confused, Regina pokes her head out of the doorway and finds Emma tossing pebbles at her second story windows. Regina stifles a wry smile and remembers all the fucked up shit Emma has pulled lately and forces her blood to ice water.
"What exactly is the meaning of this Miss Swan?" Regina in a hushed version of her peeved mayoral tone. Emma nearly jumps out of her skin. She hadn't expected such a quick response, and she hadn't heard the door creak open.
"I need to talk to you." Emma answers, trying to gather her nerve and her thoughts. She had thought about this moment all day and all night, but she hadn't known exactly what she would say to Regina. The sight of her in the door way, hair slightly mussed from sleep and satin clad form, are making it impossible for Emma to remember what she came here to do.
"There are these wonderful inventions called telephones Sheriff. Rather handy tools." Regina says sarcastically. Her jaw set against whatever is happening now. She keeps her face from betraying her emotions.
"It couldn't wait." Emma responds immediately, desperation evident in her face.
"Ah, so you thought it more prudent to come to my house in the middle of the night where you could pelt all the windows in my home with rocks." Regina's tone is thick with sarcasm. It calms the flutter of her heart at the sight of Emma calling her to the balcony like a lovesick knight beckoning her princess. Not that Regina entertained such a foolish fantasy.
Emma shifts her weight uncomfortably and her heels dig into the moist soil of Regina's garden. Dark brown eyes flash down to booted feet, and Regina's sigh is audible.
"Alright, well come inside before you destroy my daffodils." Regina says after a slight roll of her eyes and pulling her robe tighter to keep out the evening chill.
Emma hesitates on Regina's lawn even after the other woman has walked back into her mansion. This had seemed like a good idea on the way over to Regina's house, but now Emma can't find her words, or even her purpose. The drum line pounding out an erratic beat in her chest is making it almost impossible to think. Emma jams her hands in her jeans pockets and tries to straighten out her thoughts that are twisting in a jumble in her head.
"Coffee?" Regina asks in almost reflexive courtesy, her back to Emma as she saunters toward the kitchen. Emma's eyes can't help but glance down Regina's form through the thin satin fabric. When she catches herself, Emma looks up as if asking for strength from a higher power. You can do this. Focus. She cheers herself on.
"Got anything stronger?" Emma responds under her breath, half in jest. Regina turns on her heels quickly changing course from the kitchen to her office.
Emma stands in the foyer, unsure of whether to follow Regina into the next room. After what seems like a lifetime, and an inordinate amount of perspiration on her brow, Emma wills her feet to move. Emma moves hesitantly through the doorway to where Regina is standing near an expensive looking dark wood piece of furniture with bottles and glasses arraigned neatly in its shelves. Emma watches Regina elegantly pour out two drinks and turn to face Emma. Regina doesn't motion for her to sit.
"I hope this is to your liking Miss Swan." Regina says stiffly while handing Emma a heavy glass tumbler with two fingers of a rich brown liquid. Emma takes the drink with a queasy smile and an awkward nod of her head. She hopes Regina didn't notice the tremble in her hands.
"Thanks." Emma offers weakly and takes a sip of the obviously expensive scotch or whiskey. Emma can never really tell the difference. The alcohol does little to settle her nerves, but she continues to drink it anyway. Emma can't help but stare at Regina, her skin and clothing standing in stark contrast to the dark mahogany of the paneled walls. Soft against hard, light against dark. Emma swallows audibly when her traitorous eyes glance down the swell of Regina's chest and over the curve of her hip.
"Well Sheriff, as thrilling as it is to entertain you in the middle of the night, will you tell me what it is you just needed to . . . get off your chest?" There is an undeniable smirk looming on the corners of Regina's nude lips. Emma's eyes take her in greedily as if she needs to memorize Regina in this moment. She realizes that she had never seen the mayor like this - hair undone, skin free of any makeup. Emma's heart races faster and leaps into her throat. Regina looks somewhat smaller without the hard lines of her usual power suit, and Emma hadn't been prepared for this almost vulnerable version of her nemesis. At least Emma was sure that Regina was her enemy. Fairly sure. The tip of Emma's tongue darts out to moisten her lips.
"Sheriff?" Regina repeats, snapping Emma back to the present.
"I want to make peace. Bow out. Wave the white flag." Emma responds honestly, moving her wrist in the air as if signaling surrender. The words flow from her lips easier than she expects, but her heart is still hammering hard. Regina's proximity devoid of the usual angry tension is disarming, and Emma doesn't know how to keep her mind on track. She tries to think of Ruby, of her promise to herself to do the right thing, but Regina's perfume and exposed skin beyond her slender neck is hopelessly distracting.
Regina doesn't speak right away. Her left eyebrow rises slightly as she regards the sheriff. Emma is gripping the glass so tightly that her unpolished fingernails have turned white. Regina hadn't expected this at all. Her game with Emma had taken on a certain pattern over the last several months, and this certainly wasn't the usual next step. Regina searches for a hint of falsehood in Emma's face, any indication that this is just a new ploy to get a one up on her. Emma seems to grow more anxious under her stare, and Regina finds her own stomach is turning with the increased fluttering of nerves. She can hardly admit the effect Emma has on her, even in the safety of her own mind, but the truth of it is in her trembling hands and lump in her throat.
"I hate to be difficult Miss Swan, but I do believe you started this . . ." Regina takes a long elegant sip of her 70-year-old single malt whiskey before setting the glass down on the silver tray with the glass decanter. "Endeavor." Regina finishes after finding an appropriate word to describe their dance.
Emma glances down at her feet and chews the inside of her cheek nervously. She knows Regina is right of course, and she hadn't expected her to just call it off – especially after Emma exposed her neck in defeat. The temptation to punish Emma would be strong for Regina, Emma knew that, and Regina wasn't one to just forgive and forget – not with everything Emma had done.
"I know that I crossed the line." Emma admits, swirling the drink in her glass before taking the last sip. The tumbler makes a faint clinking sound when it hits the tray. Regina makes no move to refill either glass. She feels strangely uncomfortable now, even after what she and Emma had done in the past, she had never felt so vulnerable – so exposed – as she did now standing inches from Emma, their respectively masks seemingly dropped. The moment becomes tenser as the loaded silence hangs between them. Regina's gaze doesn't leave Emma's down-turned eyes.
Emma doesn't know how to continue. How can she really explain anything to anyone when she herself can't remember how it started? Worse yet, Emma's feelings are a knotted mess sitting in her chest like a bowling ball. If she could just get her heart to slow down, and her brain to concentrate on the words she practiced in the car on the way to the mayoral mansion. Who the fuck wears perfume to bed anyway? Emma thinks, distracted by Regina's scent, which is making her want to lunge forward and drown in the other woman's essence.
"I just. . ." Emma starts, her blue-green eyes dragging up off the floor to meet Regina's brown tempest of a gaze. Regina seems to have gotten closer, dangerous close. Emma can't remember what she was going to say. There is only Regina. Her eyes penetrating her very soul and finding the buried truths and old scars of Emma's heart.
"Yes?" Regina asks in a whisper. She doesn't even recall what Emma was talking about as she feels herself succumbing to the almost magnetic pull of Emma's lips.
Emma never gave her brain the instruction to move forward, and yet her legs moved toward Regina, closing the small gap between them. Neither can look away, as if their eyes have locked in and are playing chicken to see who will break first. Everything felt like a competition with Regina, and Emma wondered if that would ever change.
Regina can scarcely believe her own actions as her hand moves slowly to cradle Emma's jaw gently in her palm. The contact is electric and Regina feels it in the depths of her blackened heart. Emma gasps when she feels Regina's hand on her cheek and her eyes widen at the sensation.
"Emma," Regina begins, her head leaning forward ever so slightly.
Emma's eyes slip closed for a moment and she almost lets herself fall. Regina is so close, so warm, so inviting. But when she feels Regina's breath and the closeness of Regina's mouth to her own, her eyes snap open and desire has been replaced with something closer to terror.
"I can't." Emma croaks, pulling away from Regina. "I can't." She repeats helplessly, tears forming in the back of her eyes. She turns on her heels and bolts for the door. Her body is shaking and her mind is reeling. What was I thinking coming here? Is all she can think as she runs to her car. This wasn't what she planned, and she almost laughs realizing that she has felt that sentiment after every exchange with Regina lately. This had been different, and as she races down the dark streets, her knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel, she tells herself that it was an act on Regina's part – another way to get even at Emma. She thinks of Ruby and vows to leave Regina alone. She relinquishes any notion of ever being able to undo the mess she made with Regina. All she can do is avoid Regina and make things right with Ruby. It is her only hope at happiness. . . at a safe future.
The yellow Volkswagen stops in front of the police station. It will be morning soon and Emma doesn't want to go home. She rests her head on the steering wheel, and her hand touches the place where Regina's fingers had been on her face. Her skin is still buzzing and Emma closes her eyes. She can feel the weight of Regina's touch, and smell the heat of her skin. The thoughts send Emma's stomach plummeting and her heart soaring. She forces herself to think of Ruby again, and silent tears roll down her face as the sky turns the color of freshly squeezed blood oranges.
Regina can hardly understand what has happened, and she wonders if perhaps she is simply having a very vivid dream. Even as she rinses two glasses in the sink, she is unsure of whether Emma Swan had indeed shown up to her house in the middle of the night.
Why did she come here? Regina asks herself as she finishes drying the dishes in the sink. Emma hadn't really said anything on her visit – just an incoherent request for a truce and a lot of fidgeting, Regina recalls.
Regina looks down at her right hand and cringes. What was I thinking! She chides herself. Touching Emma like that had been stupid, impulsive and pointless. And yet, Regina's hand was still tingling and the feeling had wreaked havoc on her senses. She hadn't felt anything like this in so long, not since she was a girl, or maybe not ever. She knows that Emma felt it too, but it had frightened her away and that made Regina's heart ache.
The darkness of night has broken but Regina could not manage any sleep. Instead she sits at her breakfast table, her coffee untouched, and lets herself feel the sadness in her body. She allows herself to mourn for the love she can never seem have. No one will ever love you. For who could fall in love with the Evil Queen, she asks herself as she stares blankly through the kitchen window. It is the dawn of another day in the happy ending she paid such a heavy price for, and it promised to be even more miserable than the countless ones before it.
A/N: Thank you for reading!
I'm trying to update more regularly, and I am grateful to all of you for sticking with me!
Leave a review if you can, they make my day. :)