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Regina answered the call on the second ring.
Emma didn't bother with a hello. "I looked at the memory in the dream catcher."
"I told you not to do that."
"Well…I did." She didn't know what else to say. She hoped Regina would offer up some kind of explanation for why she'd chosen that specific memory, knowing the dream catcher would only suck it out of her head without her actually seeing it.
When it was clear Regina had no intention of explaining herself, Emma launched into her own questions. "Why give me the dream catcher at all? You could have kept implanting your memories into my head until the end of time."
"I've thought about that, too."
"And?" Emma pressed.
"I'll let you know if I ever discover the answer," Regina replied.
"That's not good enough, Regina."
"I gave you access to my memories from the Enchanted Forest to explain why I behave the way that I do. Why I proposed the dream catcher?" Regina said stiffly. "I don't have an answer for you."
"The memory in the dream catcher wasn't from the Enchanted Forest."
"I know that. It was the day you and I first met."
"Why did you choose that memory?"
"It's …" Emma heard Regina suck in a deep breath. "I wanted you to feel the love that I have for Henry. I don't think I'd ever been so scared as when Henry disappeared or so relieved like when he'd returned. I wanted you to know that about me. And I think maybe I wanted you to know that I didn't hate you then. When we first met, you were a curiosity, but you weren't my competition."
Emma licked her lips. She hadn't expected Regina to reveal so much. "Oh."
The apartment door opened and Henry popped inside. "Hey, ma," he greeted.
Emma cupped her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. "How was school?"
"Fine. The usual." Henry bobbed his head. He jerked his thumb in the direction of the hallway that led to his room. "I've got a book report to start on."
"Good work, kid," Emma approved. "I'll come get you when dinner's ready." She had to give Regina credit in the parenting department; Henry had impeccable manners and he wasn't a procrastinator, unlike herself. She hoped none of her bad habits would rub off on him.
Henry bounced off to his room and his homework and Emma returned to her phone call. "Sorry. Henry just got home from school."
"How is he?" Regina's voice sounded strangled whenever she talked about their son, like she was trying to shove down stubborn emotions that refused to remain dormant.
"He's good. He misses you."
"Has he said so?"
"Not in so many words," Emma admitted with a small frown, "but I can tell."
"Another of your super powers, dear?" Regina mused.
Emma chuckled. "Something like that."
"Have you thought more about moving into the mansion?" Regina asked.
"I couldn't do that, Regina. It's your house."
"But I'm not using it," she pointed out. "And it's the house Henry grew up in. Nothing against your apartment, but my house is infinitely nicer."
"I don't have a way to get into it," Emma floundered for excuses. "And even though I'm Sheriff, I can't just go breaking and entering houses. You'd have to come back to Storybrooke to let us in."
"Henry has a key, Miss Swan."
"Oh. Right. I guess he would."
"I know it might be strange, living in that house, but I only want what's best for him," Regina explained.
"And why wouldn't having you in his life fulltime be what's best?"
Regina released a long sigh. "It simplifies things. We don't have to worry about mundane scheduling like who has Henry when, but more important, he won't be stuck with the stigma of having the Evil Queen as his mother. Now he can just be the son of the Savior and the grandchild of Snow White and Prince Charming. It's the way things were supposed to be."
"Things are messier with you around," Emma acknowledged, "but 'simple' doesn't automatically mean 'better.' It might just mean boring," she added as an afterthought.
"Why is this so important to you?" Regina questioned. "Why do you care so much about me coming back?"
"Because I want what's best for Henry, too. But I also want what's best for you, Regina. And I truly don't believe you could ever be happy without Henry."
"And I can't imagine why you'd concern yourself with my happiness," Regina countered. "I've done you no kindness. I tore your family apart and cursed them. I'm the reason you were in foster care."
"If I'd been a princess in the Enchanted Forest, I never would have had Henry. Maybe I would have gotten married and had a kid or two, but it wouldn't have been Henry."
Regina seemed to ignore Emma's logic. "I've been nothing but cruel to you since your arrival in the Storybrooke."
"I'm a tough old bird," the blonde tried to joke. "I'm sure I've had to deal with worse."
Regina made a quiet, frustrated noise. "I don't have the energy for this."
"Does that mean I've broken you and you're coming back to Storybrooke?" Emma half-joked.
"Talk to me about something else. Anything," Regina implored.
"Ok," Emma conceded. "Why do we keep having sex?"
Regina coughed delicately. "Let me amend my previous statement. I'll talk about almost anything."
"I'm serious, Regina."
"As am I."
"You can't keep avoiding these conversations."
"Of course I can," Regina stubbornly insisted. "You'll grow tired of me eventually."
"I wish it were that simple. I know I should be angry with you. For lots of things—the nightmares are only the tip of the iceberg." Emma clutched the phone a little tighter. "And I am angry. But I'm angrier at our situation than at you. I've tried to be mad at you, Regina, but it just won't work. I just can't do it."
"Why do you think that is?"
"Now you sound like Archie," Emma chuckled.
"A grasshopper with a shady past?" Emma could almost hear the smile in Regina's tone. She wished she could see the real thing. "I'll try not to take offense, dear."
Emma tossed a dying vase of red roses into the garbage can. Their decaying scent had left a sickly sweet perfume in the center foyer of the Mayor's home. Former Mayor. Former home.
That was going to take some serious getting used to.
She had decided to take up Regina's offer to move into the Mifflin Street mansion on a trial basis. She'd insisted on the latter to Henry. If things didn't work out, she still had her lease at the apartment above the barbershop, and there was always the option to move back into her parents' loft, although living in Regina's home was a far more attractive option than cohabitating with Snow White and her Prince.
Emma knew it was only her imagination that the pillows in the guest room smelled like Regina's perfume. If she'd thought the spider plant and dream catcher had been onerous, being surround by Regina's personal affects was downright maddening. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all. Maybe suggesting they moved into her vacant house had been Regina's plan with the End Game of driving Emma crazy.
She didn't know where most things were—not the frying pan to make Henry scrambled eggs, not extra wood if she wanted to build a fire in the fireplace in the den, not the whisky bottle when it all became too much.
When the electricity in the guest bathroom went out, she could have probably found the fuse box on her own—the house wasn't that big—but it gave her a reasonable excuse to call Regina.
"What's wrong?" Regina breathlessly demanded when she answering the phone.
"Nothing. Not really."
"Miss Swan," Regina said in warning, "I hope you're not going to make this a habit."
"I haven't called you in days, Regina."
"I noticed that. I almost entertained the thought that you'd died," Regina remarked. "What is it this time? Did you find more of my memories laying about?"
"Where's your fuse box?" Emma didn't have the patience for Regina's attitude this morning.
"My what?"
"The fuse box. The breaker box. Whatever you call that thing that apparently trips when you try blow-drying your hair in the guest bedroom."
"Why would you…" Regina paused. "Are you living in my house?"
Emma bristled. "You're the one who suggested it. You said it would be in Henry's best interest."
"I know what I said," Regina snapped back, meeting the bite in Emma's tone with heat of her own. "But I never expected you to move in so fast. Are my sheets even cold yet?"
"I don't know. I haven't stepped foot in your bedroom."
The door to Regina's bedroom had been closed when she and Henry had first arrived with their suitcases, and Emma planned on keeping it that way. She could have claimed the master bedroom and its en suite bathroom as her own, but she knew it would have been too weird. It was surreal enough trying to assuage her guilt and doubt about moving into Regina's home. But she was right; it was far nicer than any apartment Emma could afford and Henry deserved the best.
"I don't see why not, you seem perfectly fine taking over everything else in my life. Why stop now?"
"God damn it, Regina!" Emma slammed her hand on the bathroom counter. "I'm done arguing with you. I'm just done with it all. I'll find the damn fuse box on my own." She hung up before the other woman had the opportunity to yell at her again.
Emma left her phone in the guest bathroom while she hunted for the elusive fuse box downstairs. The electricity had gone out once before when she'd given Regina a ride back from City Hall, but she hadn't followed the former Mayor to find out where the fuse box was hidden. Knowing Regina, there were probably secret passages and underground chambers where the elusive fuse box could be hiding.
As she hunted, she could hear the ringtone she'd picked out specifically for Regina echoing throughout the cavernous mansion. After the past few months, however, she'd considered changing the song. Zedd's "Stay the Night" or the Big Data's "Dangerous" immediately came to mind.
She continued to search the first floor without result. Her phone stopped ringing upstairs, but the silence didn't last long. Regina's landline chirped to life in the kitchen and front den; Emma didn't need to consult the Caller ID to know who was calling the house over and over again.
"Hello," she growled into the phone when she'd had enough of the landline's incessant noise.
There was silence on the other line, and for a split-second, Emma worried she'd made a mistake. Maybe it hadn't been Regina calling after all.
"You…you scared me, Miss Swan."
Emma let out a long, deep breath. "And how did I manage something like that?"
"You hung up, and when I called back, you didn't pick up."
Emma couldn't help her quiet laugh. "Because I was mad at you, Regina." She kept the 'duh' part to herself, sensing the other woman wouldn't appreciate the added comment.
"I'm sorry I was so rude," Regina apologized in earnest. "I know I was the one who suggested you and Henry move into the mansion."
"Then why did you get so angry?" Emma pressed. Fuse box and damp hair momentarily forgotten, she slid down to the floor to sit with her back pressed against the plaster wall.
"I guess it made my leaving Storybrooke feel more complete. Like the two of you are getting on with your lives … without me."
Emma chewed on the inside of her cheek. Was that what she was doing? "Again, Regina," she gently started, "isn't that what you want?"
"I don't…I don't know what it is that I want." Regina's voice wavered on the syllables. "I'm scared, Emma." The final words were so quiet, they were almost a whisper.
Emma clutched the phone tighter. "You don't have to be scared, Regina. Come home."
She expected Regina's reflexive refusal and a reminder that she would never find her Happy Ending within the confines of Storybrooke, but instead she was met with more silence.
"Regina? Are you still there?"
"Yes, Emma," the voice on the line finally responded. "I'm here."
TBC