The Love Hack by mariacomet
Author's comments:
Happy...er...Wednesday everyone, this is your captain speaking.
I was going to tell you all that I am taking a two-week break after posting this chapter. I'm still saying that, but I am also saying that Hurricane Irma who has no regard for fan fic posting schedules is bearing down on my home state of Florida so (a) I am posting early and (b) YIKES. My lovely wife and I are leaving the state in the morning with my in-laws and our two cats. My wife will be sitting in the back seat with the two cats because they are not shy about voicing their displeasure about cars. We also will be using cat nip on them. Just saying. I'm not sure how bad/good things will be when we come home which is a scary feeling so send out a positive thought or two if you get a minute.
My wife wants you all to know she didn't fully edit it. Any missing commas or punctuation can be blamed on Irma.
betagamma - Do let me know if you see Regina in Branson. Also, take pictures and share. The dynamic of Emma and Regina is so often balanced in nuanced ways. One thing I tried to do was to keep putting them in situations (even when they were in conflict) where they had to team up. It felt pretty organic to do so which tells you a lot about how I feel about their chemistry overall. More chemistry to come!
Guest - The burn, she is slow, it is true. They have had a lot to work through in this one and we're coming to a place in the story where they are going to become closer and closer. I hope you aren't in agony too much longer. Unresolved Sexual Tension - the struggle is real.
pFire274 - Glad that you are enjoying! Thanks for the feedback.
Chapter 26 - The one with all-out war
Mary Margaret stepped up to the line they formed, inspecting them. She marched down the row, meeting every eye, then nodding in solemn approval. "Soldiers, I know you're afraid. I know you're wondering if you can face the enemy today. If you have the skill, the courage, and the strength. Will you falter on the battlefield, or will you provide an accounting of yourself to be remembered through the ages?" She touched Emma's shoulder, squeezing it and imparting encouragement.
This was going to take a while. Emma leaned her water gun against her shoulder as her mother moved on. She and David communicated silently about when they should step in. David held up an index finger, telling her to wait. Regina pinched the bridge of her nose, and Emma assumed she was wondering how they'd talked her into this.
"But, you are the brave-hearted. You are the iron-willed. I promise you, you will conduct yourselves with honor. When you meet the enemy, you will know what is right and you will not hesitate. You will not, for example, go into David's and my bedroom because that is out of bounds. Instead you will keep to the agreed areas in the yard or the house." She held up a fist, pointing with her thumb to Henry. "You will reload your weapons only at the allocated sinks." She gestured to David. "You will not continue to fire beyond the fifteen-minute time limit." Finally, she motioned to Regina. "And should you hear the cry of 'Time is up', you will not use that moment to ambush someone else. No matter how tempting it is."
Mary Margaret faced them, feet apart, hands behind her back. "But beyond that, this will be your moment. Yours in glory. Yours in courage. All things are ready if your minds are ready. You know your places." She reached for her two pistols on the hood of the moving truck, taking one in each hand. "You have one minute to retreat to your hiding place. God be with you all."
"Does she think she's Patton?" Regina whispered to Emma.
"I think that was a mix of Patton and William Wallace," David said back, careful to keep his voice low.
It was six weeks after the presentation in Chicago.
Nothing had happened with the reporter-who-may-not-have-really-been-a-reporter guy. Storybrooke remained the nice, quiet town it always was. During the week Regina was in Branson, they held daily check-in meetings on Skype. After that, videoconferences became weekly again, and life went on. David and Mary Margaret packed. Emma continued to work on whatever Gold had assigned her. Regina worked on her green initiative and occasionally mentioned creating an emergency plan she and Henry could use if it was ever needed. She also arranged for Emma to be interviewed in Portland about her background so they could put the video on social media.
Regina didn't raise anything personal with Emma, and Emma didn't want to push so she left things alone. The only exception was the issue of Henry messaging her. He'd started to every few days, and she wanted to make sure Regina was okay with it. Regina answered that it was "fine". The whole conversation took place over text, but still, Emma took it as a victory.
Yesterday she'd driven into Storybrooke so she could be there when her parents and the rented moving truck reached the house. It was the first time she'd been back since Chicago.
David had raised the idea for today's battle two weeks ago. An empty house that needed some work, he said, would be ideal for a war with guns that shot foam darts. Mary Margaret countered with a proposal for a water battle.
"I think we need Henry's opinion," David said, and Regina called for him to come to her office.
Henry, a delighted grin in place, agreed with using water guns.
"While you children are having your fun, I'll review Nolan Securities' books and make sure we are on track," Regina said.
The rest of the group looked at one another, scandalized. Emma was the only one brave enough to speak. "So, you're too scared to get your hands dirty? Um, metaphorically speaking."
Both of Regina's brows raised. "Are you challenging me?"
Henry turned to his mother solemnly. "Mom, I think we have to do it. Mills family honor."
Her lips slid up into a playful half-smile that made Emma's heart beat faster. Regina's professional mask slipped as she placed her brow to Henry's and touched his chin. "Well, then, how can I say no?"
Everyone agreed to purchase their weapons ahead of time and be ready when David and Mary Margaret arrived in the moving truck. Now, the moment of war was at hand. They all had their strategies and preferences for today.
Henry had the only water gun with a backpack, a special dispensation Regina fought for because he was the only one under twenty-one. David's gun was motorized, a tiny engine assisting the power of the lime-green uzi. He wore a belt with extra clips of water across his chest. Emma went with the closest thing to a water shotgun she could find. It had a nozzle the size of a dime. An extra pistol was tucked into her belt. Regina had let Henry pick for her. The barrel of her gun was long and four muzzles would deal extra damage.
David checked in with everyone, reminding them of one more thing before they officially started. "Okay now, everyone hide and then when I yell 'go', we start the fight, okay?"
Emma chose a spot outside the door leading to the back yard, crouched down, and waited. She heard David yell "go," thinking it was odd that it sounded like it came from somewhere above her. She stayed low and advanced into the house, then down a hallway. She passed one of the three buckets of water balloons. With a smirk, still crouched, she plucked three from inside of it and hid them behind the nearby bathroom door. Her own secret stash of grenades.
She scanned the hallway up ahead, which led to two bedrooms. It was quiet, too quiet. Weapon at the ready, she advanced into the first room. She made sure to check her flank before sneaking to the closet and sliding it open.
Nothing.
She steadied herself and headed to the other room. She stuck her head around the corner of the doorway and lukewarm water blasted her in the face. She retreated, but from behind her came more gunfire, soaking her shirt. Mother and son had ambushed her. This violated the "every person for his- or herself" rule, but Emma was so busy trying to escape that she didn't have time to think about crying foul. It was not the last time Regina and Henry would lie in wait for her and attack as a unit.
She seemed to be the only one singled out for a coordinated attack, because at another point, Henry spotted Emma, called for his mother and, again, they advanced on her. The same thing happened six other times, sometimes with Regina instigating it. Emma never did get to use her hidden grenades.
By the end of the battle, Emma was the only one soaked from head to toe, dripping on the driveway. Her hair went from straight to zig-zagging into loose curls. Usually that only happened when she took a shower.
"Mills family honor," Regina told Emma in a flippant tone. She did at least hand her a towel.
They all pitched in to first clean up the water, then start moving in boxes. Her favorite part of the day was after all the hard work, when, exhausted, they sat around in the living room eating pizza. They were all sweaty and disheveled and they were together. A team.
The word "family" was still scary.
She still couldn't see herself sitting down with her "team" for a formal dinner either.
Her Pertential score prodded at her for an excuse to change—it wondered if her continued imperfections meant her overall number should be lowered. For the second time in the last few months, she put the scale away in the back of her emotional closet. She couldn't fight her demons with it constantly popping up in her head like an overactive puppy.
She'd come back to it as soon as she could.
David and Mary Margaret put down an air mattress for her that night, but predictably, she couldn't sleep. She went down to the kitchen and made herself coffee. An idea popped into her mind; the kind that stalked her through the night and wouldn't be shaken off. The next evening, again a sleepless night, it continued to poke at her. At midday she surrendered to it, letting herself be prodded into buying a few simple supplies.
That afternoon, she sat down at the metal table and chairs her parents were using until the flooring was replaced. Emma pulled another Post-It note from her stack, paused, then wrote down a sentence in black ink as neatly as she could. She placed it face down, sticky side up, starting a fifth row. Half of the table was covered in a bizarre yellow papered mosaic.
Mary Margaret descended the stairs and, of course, the table drew her attention. "What's all this?"
"All what," David asked, coming in behind his wife and using a dishrag to wipe at his face. Without waiting, he flipped one of the pieces of paper over. "Number five - You are the most honest person I have ever met." He plucked one more and looked at it. "Number six - You are a chess demon." Confusion made him stare at the table, then turn to Emma for an explanation. "I think I agree with Snow's question."
"Is this a Regina thing?" Snow asked. Emma wasn't a blusher, she really wasn't. She felt heat on her cheeks all the same. "Let us know if you need help," Snow said and squeezed her shoulder.
David came closer, studying the table again. Quiet realization surged into his eyes, making them twinkle. "Oh," he said, drawing the word out.
"This isn't—don't make this into a thing," Emma pleaded, "I'm just trying to...she's got a lot on her shoulders."
"Well, I like her. We like her. Just for future reference." He kissed the top of her head. "We're on our own tonight. Don't want the Millses to get sick of us. Hamburgers okay?" He wandered into the kitchen without saying anything else. Later, both her parents gave her a few suggestions when she started running out of ideas at number one hundred and forty-two.
When she was finished, she finally relaxed enough to fall asleep.
Three mornings after the Nolans moved in, Belle greeted Regina and let her know there was a message from Emma waiting in her office. Regina expected it to be a phone message or a file or something ordinary. Instead, the large window behind her desk was covered with canary yellow Post-It notes. There were so many that the sunlight could only get through in the cracks between the squares, making the room darker than usual.
Above them, a piece of loose-leaf paper read, "Just in case you ever doubt who you are again."
She peeled one of the yellow papers off and read it.
Number #1 - You care more than you ever let on.
Number #2 - I have never seen anything like the way you smiled at your town in the steamboat.
Number #3 - Your smile when you talk about Henry is the only thing that tops it.
Number #4 - You see potential in things no one else would see potential in.
Number #5 - You are scary as hell when you want to be.
Number #6 - You know the blue-suede-shoes dance even if you won't let me see it.
Number #7 - You came up with the idea for Cybersheriff because you didn't want anyone to go through what you did.
Number #8 - You stuck with the idea of Cybersheriff even though I was a bonehead.
Number #9 - You are an amazing planner.
Number #10 - You don't let things stop you (even when people act like boneheads).
On and on it went, each one a testament to what Emma thought of Regina.
The last one was numbered two-hundred.
She stared at it all for a long time, not sure how to feel about something she could barely believe was real. Her son was one of the few people who did nice things for her without deeper motivations other than "because". Her father had loved her in that same way, giving to her without thinking or asking for anything in return. Occasionally Belle or one of the townspeople were thoughtful. Usually when she was ill, which didn't happen often, thank goodness. Or near the holidays. Or on her birthday.
Henry and her father were family. The town appreciated her work as mayor and acted cordially. This was the act of someone who had no obligation.
She didn't bother taking her coat off, instead she told Belle she would be out for awhile and headed to her car. For once, Emma wasn't at the diner, but she knew the other place Emma would be. She found her, as expected, at the Nolans'.
Emma wore an old plaid shirt, hair back as she helped paint the living room.
"Can I talk to you," Regina said, barely stopping to say hello to David, who was in the room with Emma, or Mary Margaret, who was taking a hammer to the backdrop in the kitchen.
"Sure, my room is—" She gestured up the stairs. Regina nodded and waved her forward.
There wasn't much to Emma's room, just an air mattress with beige sheets and a couple of pillows. The only sources of light were a desk lamp on the floor near the bed, and the long rectangular window that looked out onto the yard. In front of it, the sill stretched in a wide window bench big enough for two. It was bare now, but Snow would probably make it homey with a cushion and pillows in time. For the moment, it was a good enough place to sit as they began their conversation.
"I don't understand you," Regina said, sitting primly.
Emma followed her across the room but remained standing. "I get that a lot."
"I have done nothing to encourage you. I assumed we both silently agreed to leave well enough alone and then…" She dug her hand in her pocket and produced the gathered pile of Post-it notes.
"Oh. Well, you know what they say about people who assume?" Emma scratched her forehead and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, hands lifting to rest on her hips. "Sorry, I don't know why I said that."
Too many explanations crowded Regina's mind; the silence in the room grew heavy as she sorted through them. "I know we said we would talk. I have thought about reaching out to you almost daily. I was putting together an emergency plan for me and Henry, and then I told myself I should wait till we were face to face again…"
"It's okay."
"It's not. I'm not usually so—I don't know...uncertain." Regina focused on the doorway, wanting to give herself the comfort of knowing she could leave if she wished. "You have no idea how bad I am at letting people in. And I never give second chances. Which is probably why my son rightfully observes that I need a life."
Emma sat down next to her, also staring at the open door. "I don't blame you for hesitating, you know. I'm trying now, but I didn't for a long time. You don't know if you can forgive me, because it's not something you usually do. I'm not sure that I'm a good investment." Regina shook her head, trying to stop Emma. Emma continued, unaware, "You know how they say you have to walk before you can run? I'm not even walking, I'm crawling."
Regina's reservoir of patience was shrinking, and Emma kept pouring words into it. "Emma…"
"I don't know what I'm doing. I am going to fuck up again and—"
Regina thrust out her hands, palms up. "Okay, stop," she snapped, needing the relief of silence. She hated her anger, how it burst in without invitation, how it took over.
A matching agitation made Emma raise her voice. "Hey, I'm just being honest."
"If we're both uncertain and afraid and that's all we are...there's nothing left to say. No way forward." She waited until her temper receded. "For future reference, telling someone how horrible you are at something is not a good selling point."
Emma pushed her shoulders back as far as they could go, her head tilting back against the wall at the same time. "So, what do we do now?"
As an answer, Regina held up the Post-It notes. "You are this impossible presence in my life, Emma Swan. I can't rely on the Emma who lied to me, the one who hurt my son. But this one—" she lifted the papers up a little more "—the person who has this kind of heart? I want to believe in her. You. I just need…" Her voice was barely louder than a breath, a lower register than usual. "Tell me what happened. What made you change?"
Emma's fingers flexed and unflexed around the lip of the bench. "Playing the part of a knight in shining armor isn't the same as actually being brave. If I just keep avoiding the things that scare me the most, the hard things that stick with me all the time, that's not heroic. I've been a coward for way too long. I knew I was. Deep down, I knew. I was just so used to it." She rocked her toes back and forth, a slow to-and-fro motion. "I'm tired of it." Frustration at the strength of her fears made her voice rough. "I don't want to feel like a knight only in moments. I want to feel that brave every day." She stopped swaying and raised her eyes to Regina's. "You and Henry make me feel like maybe I have a shot at it. You stop me from being okay with being a coward. I don't know how much I've changed. Right now it feels like a daily fight, but I think I'm winning more than I'm losing."
Every word was the strike of a sledgehammer against her walls, and inside she trembled from the blows. Regina clutched harder at the papers in her hand, then looked down to see the writing on the first. You care more than you let on, it read. It was certainly true about Emma. She had put hours of effort into trying not to care about her, but she had never actually managed it.
Some people were naturally positive; she wasn't. Some saw good without straining, but not her. Her self-reliance and pain soured many of her observations and aspirations. She had tried to catch hope all of her life, but it was too fast, flitting in the air in front of her, just out of reach. Sometimes she barely closed her hand around it, she could feel its wings, but it always got away, darting off once more. When Emma was with her, it fluttered to her palm and rested there.
Regina tried to not scare it away. "I'd like to try and be better than I have been. I'd like us to try together."
Emma kicked her boot against the bench a few times. "So, I may be slow on the uptake, but does that mean you want to be friends again? I'm pretty sure that's what you said. Is that what you meant? I just want to be sure. If this was second grade, I could just send you a note and ask you to check 'yes' or 'no'."
"Well then, hold out your hands." Emma did so, openly curious about where this was headed. "Now, let's pretend your right hand is 'yes' and your left is 'no'."
Their eyes met, Emma's widening and her chin tightening. There were no shields now, no hiding, no walls. Regina used her fingertip to trace a check onto Emma's right palm. "Does that help?" Emma's fingers curled around hers, holding on.
Her awareness of Emma heightened. A smudge of dirt marred Emma's cheek. A toolbelt with only a screwdriver and a hammer hung low on her waist. Her plain white t-shirt under flannel had an ink stain. Black ink like the Post-It notes she mused. Where their hands still touched, pulses of heat spread over her skin.
She squeezed Emma's hand and with closed eyes, she let her head rest on Emma's shoulder. Neither of them moved for a long time.
Eventually she straightened and smoothed out her skirt. "Would you...would you like to meet for breakfast tomorrow? I have a very early meeting but perhaps after at Granny's? Maybe 9:30?"
A smile inched across Emma's lips, stretching out till it couldn't go any broader. "Deal."
The meeting lasted about half as long as she thought it would. That gave her a little time before meeting up with Emma. She consulted her list of to do's. Now that the Nolans were moved in, they could go forward with planning the next seminar. Before anything, she wanted to check in with Gold. He and Regina had originally discussed special permission for Emma to leave the state for the three seminars over a three-month timeframe. Since they were moving outside that timeline, due to the Nolans' move, she decided it was prudent to check in.
It turned out to be a wise decision.
Gold answered his cell phone pleasantly, making small talk. His refusal of her request, however, was immediate. "I have some bad news. I am afraid I can no longer accommodate you, Ms. Mills. I am going to officially announce that I am running for Governor soon. I can't take the risk of my name being attached to a convicted felon wandering freely around the country."
Regina sat up straighter. This was supposed to be an easy call. "I'm confused. We agreed that you would provide special dispensation for Emma to do three presentations, did we not? In exchange, you were going to use us in your marketing and sell yourself as a progressive. Wouldn't that be more relevant now than it was before?"
"I thought it would take me a couple of years to gather the right support. I thought by then, surely Emma Swan would no longer be in your employ."
Regina began to pace. She had never said any such thing to him. He could have deduced it from the original request, or perhaps because of Emma's background. His words caused shock to spread down her spine, like she'd misstepped, the weight of her entire body crashing down on one foot .
"Things have changed," he said. "I recently gained significant financial backing from several new donors. It's allowed me resources that I didn't have before. Keeping my little deal with you could quickly become a scandal. I can't afford that."
Regina gritted her teeth, but managed to keep her voice steady and confident. "We both know that Emma isn't a risk."
He tsk'd into the phone, and Regina's jaw flexed at the way his voice hinted at her foolishness. "You haven't forgotten she's a criminal, have you? She was a criminal long before she was caught."
"She's changed."
"Yes, well, a lot of criminals say that, don't they?"
She didn't know if he was baiting her. She stopped pacing so she could focus on listening, on gathering clues in how he said what he said and in what he might not be saying.
"It's very likely I am going to run for governor. I want to stay on good terms with you, and I am still willing to support your organization. I just don't think it's wise for you to be so dependent on Miss Swan. I'll tell you what, I shouldn't do this, but I can offer you the services of one of my cybercrime team members for New York. They can talk about the many crimes they have investigated and provide some of the same type of perspective Miss Swan did."
"Emma's story is unique, and she's an important part of our team."
He sighed, and that same superiority lounged in his voice. "I get that you feel you owe Miss Swan a debt, but it it seems to me you have done your best to repay her. It may be time to let that debt go. At any rate, Miss Mills, I'm sorry I can't accommodate your request. Please let me know if you'd like to take me up on my offer. I think you'll find that one of my men would be—"
Regina ended the call, slamming her cell phone down on her desk. She sank into her desk chair and shoved her frustration away. It wasn't the first time in her life that someone had taken another deal over the one she offered, or tried to change the deal halfway through. In the old days, she would have used her wealth to broker information on Gold, find buttons to push or weaknesses to exploit.
She loved both sides of winning—getting what she wanted and beating others.
She did her best to ignore those old, dark impulses. She needed to make sure Nolan Securities still succeeded.
She needed a new plan.
She called a meeting. It meant cancelling breakfast with Emma. Something else to hold against Gold.
Regina told them about her phone call, and was patient while David vented at the injustice of judging Emma without truly knowing her and Mary Margaret insisted that "the man" could never be trusted not to profile people. Emma crossed her arms over her chest and didn't say anything at all. Regina touched her arm as she brushed past her and moved to the flipchart at the front of the room.
"I do have an alternative proposal. Well, a two-fold proposal." She flipped the page to reveal one word: Portland.
"Portland?" Emma asked.
Regina nodded. "The terms of your parole don't allow you to leave the state without permission. I think you'll find that Portland is in the state of Maine."
"But—I mean, compared to New York."
"Oh it's definitely not New York. However, it is the biggest city in this state. It will have to do. As for New York, I do have an idea. I have found a company that teams with people who want to make extra cash, and helps them offer their cars as advertising space. We pay for the signs, decide on the number and type of cars. I budgeted 6 luxury cars in Manhattan for one month, it's 4600 dollars. It's reasonable, and it could be something we could do in other cities, if need be."
"No, this is silly." Emma scowled at Regina. "You should all just go to New York. We've talked about how you could do the presentations without me there. You should just do that."
"I am afraid that that is impossible, Emma," Regina said.
"Why?"
"Because we're a team." The Nolans grinned, as a unit, both of them showering Regina with silent looks of praise. "Isn't that what you all said about Chicago?
"Come on, that's nothing like this."
"Obstacles in business are not unusual. The trick is to adapt quickly and creatively to whatever is thrown at you. My monetary goals for Nolan Security and the timeline have not changed. I believe in this approach, Emma. And I believe we need you. Please trust me."
Emma grumbled, turned, banged her head on the wall, then sighed. "Fuck. You saying please to me isn't fair. Just saying."
Regina tried her best to hide a smirk. "I'll make a note of it."
The next day they did have breakfast. The conversation was light, and primarily about business or what might be fun to do in Portland. The Nolans and Henry liked when everyone was together as a group, but they did manage to squeeze in an additional lunch over the next few days. Again, they stayed with easy topics, but at one point Emma bet Regina she could balance a spoon on her nose for sixty seconds (she could) and it felt...slowly...like it had before.
Emma could only stay a week. She had told her parole officer where she was going, why and for how long. She thought it best to stick to her plans, given how much of a jerk Gold was being. On the morning Emma left to go back home, Regina offered to walk her to her car. The walk to the yellow bug was made in small steps, prolonging the moment before Emma's department by mutual, silent agreement. They didn't speak, both of them walking with their hands in their pockets.
"Thanks for walking me. Um, I could text you when I get home. If you want. Just as a check-in."
"Thank you, I'd feel better if you did."
"Right. We have a business meeting next week."
"Yes, but I think we can feel free to touch base sooner if we wish."
"Right. Good. Okay…" Emma pulled a hand from her pocket long enough to wave. "Talk to you soon."
She thought about stopping Emma and re-instating their goodbye hugs. Emma paused with her hand on her door handle and stared at Regina; it made Regina wonder if she was thinking the same thing.
Regina stepped back from the curb. Not just yet.
She and Emma shared a smile.
But maybe soon.