A/N: Not a super christmassy/ merry chapter, but, happy holidays anyway! Not a huge fan of this chapter, but needed to set the scene for the next :) Hopefully there's some parallels in here that work well though :) Please review, and thanks for all your reading and comments :D


Closing the door to the dishwasher and waiting for the telling noise of the pipes to kick in, Regina sighs as she leans against the countertop and casts her gaze out at the slow reddening sky. Having spent a fair amount of the afternoon indulging Emma with tales of some of the town's lore- Miner's Day looming, and whatever else her mind could conjure- it had been on the tip of her tongue to ask the blonde if she might like to stay for dinner, before she'd caught herself in the act. She'd even opened her mouth to voice her proposition- Emma still chuckling over the conclusion to a rather unfortunate tale relating to last Halloween- when husky laughter had died down and become a shy smile, and she'd found herself licking her lips and shaking herself from such a foolish notion.

"Besides, she has work, what was I thinking?"

She mutters, but she knows in her heart that the blonde's responsibilities at the Diner have little to do with anything. It doesn't matter. What matters is she'd been dangerously close to asking Emma to spend time with her in a setting where things might have swiftly come out from under her control. She has been extremely grateful that the blonde has seemingly accepted her need to see to matters in her own time, but she also knows that the younger woman can be wily when she wants, and perilously charming in her own way.

"No. Not charming. There must be another word."

She sighs, rubbing her temples, but she allows a small smile in spite of her irritation.

Her frustration.

She has discovered a newfound sympathy for the blonde if Emma's desires have been anything like the ones she has suffered today. They are something she'd struggled to keep in check earlier when the younger woman had offered her a friendly grin and tied back long hair with a careless flick of her wrist, exposing pale skin just begging to be tasted. She'd thankfully managed to stop herself from barking irritably at the girl- fairly certain it hadn't been an act of malice- but she had remained tense and restless for the best part of the day as her mind had continued to churn and wander.

Finally, she'd known when Emma had taken her leave this afternoon- waving amiably and telling her to have a nice evening- that she'd have to do it tonight. Have to write the goddamn letter tonight, because while she feels sympathetic towards the younger woman now that she's been given her own taste of the peculiar undertow to their relationship, she is also a creature of habit- a woman who has her ways- and something she has grown particularly used to over these last few years is getting what she wants. She is not used to being denied her pleasure... And she is wary of how long it might be before she bows down to old habits and fails in her irksome struggle to do the right thing.

It's funny, in a way. Only yesterday, she'd have baulked at the idea; wounds still fresh from the younger woman's brief departure, and generally accepting she just wants what's best for one of the few people she can stand to be around.

But her talk that night with Emma- and Ruby's talk with Emma- seem to have done the blonde some good, and what had seemed like a certainty only a day ago now causes her concern, as cheerful laughter and meaningful glances have served to leave her flustered and uncomfortable. She knows her own heart and knows that even the best of intentions can give way to impulse and need.

She needs to write the letter.

"Well... No time like the present."


A knock at the front door pulls Regina from her thoughts as she sits with her head bowed, studying the delicate cursive of her handwriting. A single page. That's all. A single page to tell Emma the truth. It doesn't seem like enough. It doesn't-

Another knock, and she sighs and covers her confession with several documents pulled from her drawer before making her way over to the front door and opening it curiously.

"Graham?"

She frowns, and the Sheriff smiles expectantly.

"What are you doing here?"

"Madame Mayor?"

His brow furrows in confusion, and he checks his watch to make sure that he's come calling on the brunette at the right time. The regular time.

Coming to the slow realisation of what business Graham might have, standing out on her porch with the sun setting behind him, the Mayor feels an uncharacteristic wave of discomfort. She is torn. She's not given the Sheriff any real thought over the last couple of days and is undecided now on whether she really desires his company. Her time spent with Emma has left her feeling both aroused and frustrated, and there is something appealing in the idea of being offered swift release.

It's not really what she wants, though.

He's not really what she wants.

Clearing her throat and offering a wry smile when she realises she's been stood frowning at her guest and barring the door, she shakes her head and steps aside.

"Sorry, Sheriff. I didn't realise the time. I'm afraid you'll have to forgive me though, I have rather a lot to do. I'm not sure I, um, wish to go ahead with our general arrangement."

"Oh."

Graham frowns. He is not about to argue with the Mayor, and is happy enough to give her space if it's what she wants, but her inviting him across the threshold makes him nervous; Regina is not known for her hospitality and conversation.

Well, until recently.

He had been surprised when Emma had come to find him to ask after the brunette, and even more surprised to learn of Regina's trip to bring the girl back to town following the troubling events a couple of days ago. Emma, it seems, is rather fond of the formidable Mayor, and from what he's seen and pieced together, the two of them appear to get on remarkably well. Twice now, he has popped by the Diner to pick up his morning coffee and spied the younger woman clad in her little waitress' uniform and chatting amiably with Regina, who had even smiled back and laughed prettily in response to whatever was being said.

"Cider?"

Regina turns to ask him now, and he smiles indulgently and nods.

"That sounds nice... Is everything alright, Regina?"

Studying the Sheriff thoughtfully, the brunette eventually offers a small shrug of her shoulders and bends down to fetch a couple of crystal glasses from the drinks cabinet.

"Everything's fine, Sheriff."

For the time being... Tomorrow? Well, that depends on if I can bring myself to give Emma what I need to give her.


"Coffee before you go?"

"Always!"

Emma grins, before calling the brunette back as she stalks for the door to head to the kitchen.

"Regina?"

"Yes, dear?"

"...Is everything ok? You didn't look very well when you came by the Diner for breakfast, and you've been really quiet all day..."

Sharp teeth nip at a soft bottom lip with nervous concern, and the darker woman sighs as she regards the blonde morosely.

She is tired, having spent the night tossing and turning and fretting about the words painstakingly selected to tell a truth she doesn't want to tell. She'd sat down to write the accursed letter knowing it had to be done– and done without any further delay. Now, though? Well, it is almost time for the younger woman to leave for her shift at the Diner, and she has yet to make a move. She is unsure whether she can.

"I'm fine, Emma."

She assures quietly, and the blonde offers her a knowing look that suggests she is not about to be so easily fooled.

No, not so easily persuaded as the Sheriff had been.

"... Okay."

Emma frowns, and the brunette applies a strained smile, before slipping from the room to make them both coffee. She is aware of the fact that her rather tense behaviour today has served to put the younger woman on edge also- presumably worried that she's done something wrong- but she has been unable to help herself from injecting her discomfort into her tone.

Hence the coffee.

The last thing she really wants to be doing is sharing a coffee with the blonde, but she has caught the nervous glances in response to her rather curt dismissals of attempted conversation, and she doesn't wish for Emma to feel bad. Doesn't want her to feel the way she's feeling herself.

Just give it to her!

"No. No... I can't. I can't lose her."

And she bites her own lip in a way she hasn't since she was a little girl as twin droplets of salt spill out onto her cheeks.


Bouncing her foot nervously as she waits for Regina to come back with their coffee, Emma plays with her hair distractedly; not understanding the sudden change in the brunette's mannerisms, but smart enough to imagine it might have something to do with whatever it is the Mayor wants -needs- to tell her.

She just wishes Regina would get on with it already.

And not only because of the way she feels her cheeks flush with colour and her stomach clench whenever the brunette looks at her.

No.

She wants Regina to get on with it because she can see that the darker woman is beginning to hurt. Beginning to beat herself up about whatever it is that's weighing on her mind. It is a chain of emotion she is entirely familiar with, but to see those unhappy signs in someone as well put together as Regina worries her.

She doesn't want the brunette to be unhappy.

That's more important to her than anything.

She wants Regina.

But she also wants Regina to be happy.

"Maybe I should-"

But she trails off as her incessant fidgeting- drumming her fingers on the desk, plaiting her hair and rifling through papers while clicking her pen- uncovers a sheet of paper baring delicate scripture.

Emma,

Glancing up at the door, she bites her lip and scans the neat cursive beneath her name.

You suggested I write you a letter, and I have decided to do so, but please believe me when I begin this confession by telling you that this is the hardest letter I have ever had to write. I-

"-I don't have milk, just cream, I-"

Regina frowns as she reenters her office; Emma jumping as if burnt and hastily repositioning herself in her chair.

"-Everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

Emma smiles, pushing her hair back, and the Mayor frowns as she takes a seat.

"Alright..."

She sighs, and they drink their coffee in awkward silence.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

Regina muses as Emma places down her mug; having all but wolfed down the scalding liquid, and the blonde nods, and offers a more genuine smile.

"Yup. Granny's making turnovers today, so maybe you should take a break from your muffin tradition tomorrow morning. They're good! She made Ruby and me some when I first got here."

"I'll take your word for it."

The brunette smiles, and she raises her hand in farewell as she watches Emma take her leave a little defeatedly.

You fool.

You should have done it.

Should have given it to her.

What use is it you sitting here torturing yourself?

She shakes her head in despair and flicks through the various documents on her desk, supposing it can't hurt to at least reread her words and assess whether they need to be rewritten.

Not that she imagines she will be able to make them any less devastating.

"What the..."

Shuffling through the papers littering the desk once more, she feels her heart begin to race as she searches for the letter with growing alarm.

"No... no no no..."

But what had started out as shocked disbelief is swiftly becoming terrified realisation, and she begins to shake as several official documents spill onto the floor in her panic.

"No!"

She slams her fists down onto the desk- eyes wide- before letting out a sob and lowering her head onto lacquered wood.

"Fuck..."

Not a word she condones, nor usually uses.

But one that suits this situation just fine.