THE STAIRCASE
By Red Charcoal
CHAPTER 35: ROCINANTE
It was the horrifically loud truck horn that woke her. Emma's eyes snapped open at the blare only to find an enormous black shadow filling the windscreen. Heading straight for them.
"Regina!'' she shouted, snapping her head to the left. The mayor seemed to jerk to life and yanked hard on the steering wheel as the heavy mechanical whoosh rattled and battered the Merc. It came perilously close and then it was gone. A derisive second honk sounded as it receded into the distance.
The brunette leaned heavily on the brakes, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and pulled over to the wide verge.
For a moment all that could be heard was the low, patient idling of the engine and the hard breathing of two occupants.
"Close call," Emma muttered redundantly, blinking at the empty road in front of them. She glanced back over her shoulder. "Were you overtaking?"
The empty road yawned behind them. Not a speck in sight.
She swung back to the front and looked questioningly at Regina who simply shook her head.
Emma's eyes fell to the white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Still holding on tight.
"So how'd we get on the wrong side of the road?" she asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Black ice?"
Another dazed head shake.
Emma leaned over and, one by one, peeled Regina's clenched white fingers off the steering wheel.
"You fell asleep didn't you," she stated gently, massaging the fingers back to a shade approximating pink.
Regina swallowed and turned, her face a mix of regret and guilt and worry.
"Yes," she whispered. "I believe so."
Emma eyed her without judgment and let go of her hands.
"Exactly how much sleep did you get last night?"
"Almost ... I think ... maybe two hours."
"Shit Regina! You should have said - I would have driven. Hell, I still will." She unbuckled her seatbelt and fumbled loudly for the door handle.
"No.''
The voice was quiet, ragged and dismayed.
Emma tilted her head. "No?" she asked askance.
"It's my vehicle, Miss Swan. You will not just take custody of it. Like everything else."
"Take custody of it? What the hell? I just want us to get home safe and sound. In one piece. This isn't some cunning car heist."
Regina paused and regarded Emma closely. "Home?"
Emma bit her lip. "Ah. Well to Storybrooke. Your home."
"Hmm."
"Not my home," Emma babbled on.
"Indeed."
They stared at each other for a beat.
"Why only two hours?" Emma finally asked for want of anything else to say.
Regina grimaced. "Why do you think?" she asked with a tightly-knitted scowl. "You really want to ask me that now? I am tired and irritable and almost got us both killed - and you AGREED we'd tabled this!"
Emma head snapped back at the outburst. "Shit, Regina, calm down. And what do you mean, we tabled this? Your lack of sleep is because of what we ... um ... cos of last night?"
The mayor rolled her eyes. "Are you seriously this dense? Because I am failing to understand what I see in you right now." She pouted in a way Emma could only describe as endearing and then turned to face the side window. Her shoulders slumped.
The blonde's lips twitched in spite of herself. "I know. I am an acquired taste," she said gently. "I don't know what you see in me either. I'm like, um, Chicken and Waffle Chips."
Regina retorted into the glass: "Those cannot possibly be a real thing."
"You doubt me? Fine. Let's check out the junk in your trunk."
The brunette's head snapped back, her mouth dropping open. She glared at Emma.
"Shit, that came out seriously weird and, um, kind of really sexual," Emma blurted, appalled. "I mean I packed that brand of chips. They're in with the beer nuts and Cheetos. Next to the Twix and M&Ms..."
She faded out. "S-sorry. Rambling."
"Yes Miss Swan. You are. We don't need an inventory of all the processed diabetic-comas-in-a-bag you packed."
They both fell silent and turned to stare out the front windscreen at the open road, a black snake endlessly winding into the distance. Regina turned off the ignition and sighed heavily.
"Want me to drive then?" Emma asked quietly. "I promise to respect the black beast is entirely yours at all times and give it back to you at the first pit stop once you've had a nice refreshing power nap."
"Pit stop?"
"Well you must have planned for us to stop at some point for gas or, gee, I dunno, bathroom breaks."
"My Mercedes has excellent mileage and a large fuel tank. No stops are necessary."
"Um, well, that's great for the car. But what about the other thing?" Emma bit on a nail and then gazed at her from under her lashes.
"No stops are necessary," the mayor repeated.
"Regina, you are human. You're gonna want to get near a restroom at some point in the next ...'' she glanced at her watch, "five and a bit hours."
"I do not intend for any part of my being to be anywhere near a restroom at one of those awful truck-stop dives," Regina stated with finality. "Filthy disease-ridden infestations." Her lips pulled back in an evil sneer.
Emma stared at her a little startled. "Are you seriously planning to just willpower away your biological urges? Is that how things work in your brain?"
"I will hold it in," Regina ground out firmly and looked completely appalled they were even discussing it.
Emma laughed out loud at her look of determination. "OK, fine. But don't expect ME to cop that." She opened the car door.
"Where are you going?" the brunette demanded, looking around.
The blonde jerked her thumb to a thick stand of trees not far away. "Doing what comes naturally, seeing you are planning to deny me the basics for the rest of this trip."
Regina pursed her lips and bit back whatever she was going to say. "Fine. Just hurry up," she muttered and pointedly turned to face the opposite direction. "We haven't got all day."
When Emma got back, still buttoning up her jeans, she saw Regina was outside the car and had the coffee thermos out and was about to take a long sip.
"Oh no you don't," she said snatching it from Regina's hands. The mayor gave an outraged squeak. "That's mine - as I am driving now, and you are officially in napping mode."
"I did not agree to that, Miss Swan." She narrowed her eyes.
"True. But think about this - if you kill us both by falling asleep again, who looks after Henry?"
Regina paled and grimly handed the coffee over to Emma. Her voice dropped to a low growl: "I cannot believe you'd play the Henry card. That was most devious."
Emma shrugged and held out her hand. "Whatever works." She waited. After a moment car keys plopped in it.
"Just try to stay on our side of the road," Regina muttered and then had the good grace to look a little sheepish. "Well, more so than I did," she added. A reluctant smile teased around the corners of her lips.
Emma grinned back and took a deep swallow of the coffee. "I promise to look after your baby. Say, what's her name?"
"What?"
"Surely you named your car. Everyone cool does."
Regina snorted. "Well what's that revolting yellow deathtrap called, dear? Roadkill? Rust Bucket? Carrmageddon?"
"Oh ha-fucking-ha, Regina," Emma snickered. She straightened. "It's called Bug. Obviously."
"Original."
"I know. So?"
Regina huffed at the perceived imposition before finally clearing her throat and offering a name.
"Rocinante."
Emma's eyebrows lifted.
"Named after my most beloved horse, who was also dark and sleek and powerful." Regina leaned against the car door and a faraway look crossed her face.
Emma fell silent and watched the strange, distant expression curiously. She took another swallow of coffee. She tried to think of something else to say. Something relevant.
"That reminds me - Henry tells me you go horse riding these days," Emma offered after a moment. "Is it just him and you?"
"No. I mainly ride alone now," Regina said and suddenly pursed her lips. "Although he comes with me on weekends."
"Why? I thought the purpose was for you and Henry to get on better? Some sort of therapy from the doc? Right?"
Another long silence fell and the brunette squinted into the sun.
"No, Miss Swan," she finally said. "I thought initially that was why. But it turns out that was not the reason after all. Now if you don't mind, can we get going? And try not to take out any street signs."
She opened the passenger door and slid inside. Emma followed suit on the driver's side, making a science of adjusting the seat. She turned and grinned. "I make no promises."