A/N: Sorry, my week off got away from me and was entirely devoid of free time during which to write! But I did manage to write my usual Sunday chapter for you.

The northbound platform was quiet with just a few other people loitering for the next tube. It was less than a minute before the familiar sound of an approaching train reached their ears. Regina stepped on first, closely followed by Emma. The carriage was busy and there were no spare seats, so they stood by the open door. Both women looked back at the platform while they waited for the doors to closed, half expecting Killian to appear. A few seconds passed before the beeps announced the doors were about to shut and, when they did, Regina let out a huff of air.

"Are you ok?" Emma asked quietly as the train pulled out of the station.

Regina resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the question to which both women knew the answer. If Emma thought she was ok, the damn blonde nurse would never have shown up at her apartment, uninvited, to find out what was wrong. That said, if Emma hadn't knocked when she had, Regina was fairly sure she'd be dead, so perhaps the woman's nosey, overstepping behaviour had some perks.

"Let's just get as far away from here as possible, then you can ask me again."

"Ok, but where are you going to go?"

"To be honest, I have no idea. I hadn't planned this and frankly, I kind of assumed you'd be able to help me out there. I mean, that's what you've been trying to do all day, right?"

Emma nodded. "Yes, of course. I mean, we can go to the police. I can call my dad and -"

"No," Regina replied sharply, causing several other passengers to look up from their mobile phones and shoot curious glances in their direction. Regina ignored them; she was used to a society where everyone was listening in all the time. London's weird obsession of not making eye contact and pretending everyone else didn't exist was strange to her. "No cops. Not yet."

"But Killian -"

"Can't know where I am," Regina said firmly. "Please, Emma. Just help me find somewhere to hide out until I can work out what my options are and how to get home."

"Home to Puerto Rico?"

"Yes," Regina nodded. "There's nothing for me here, never was. At least, it wasn't what I dreamed it would be. And frankly, I've got no reason to stick around."

Emma said nothing as the tube pulled into Highgate and several people got off. She realised that the carriage was not only busy but also that the air conditioning wasn't working. She needed a drink. Regina, too, looked flushed. A few beads of sweat had started to form along her hairline.

"Ok, so, you're going to head to the airport?" Emma asked as the train began to move again.

"I don't have my passport," Regina replied. "But the first thing I need to do is get somewhere Killian can't find me. Do you know High Barnet?"

"Not well, why?"

Regina pointed to the map of the Northern Line above Emma's head which showed the final destination of their mode of transport. She was starting to think maybe southbound would have been better. Putting the Thames between her and Killian would have instantly made her feel safer even though there were dozens of ways to cross London's iconic river.

"I live in Finchley," Emma said, pulling Regina back from contemplating what Morden would be like as a place to disappear.

"Ok, and?"

"And you can stay at mine," Emma replied. "I mean, I'll have to check with my flatmates but I'm sure they won't mind."

"No, I can't ask you to do that," Regina exclaimed, suddenly realising that Emma really was involved now. As the adrenaline in her veins lessened slightly with every moment she moved further from her uncle, she was becoming more and more aware of the fact that the blonde standing defiantly before her was now entangled in her life in a way that wasn't going to be easy for either of them.

It was clear the nurse was stubborn however and showed no sign of not wanting to run away from the shit show that was Regina's life. "You're not asking, I'm offering. You told me you needed saving, well, let me offer you somewhere to hide."

"You don't want to get involved in this, Emma."

"Too late," the blonde shot back. "I am involved. And I promised you I would keep you safe. My dad said the same thing. And while I'll respect you don't want to go to the cops right now, that doesn't mean I'm just going to wave you off at the station in High Barnet and let you fend for yourself. I have a spare room. Come crash with me, just until you decide what you want to do."

Regina had had to restrain a snort when Emma had declared that she respected Regina's decision not to go to the police. It was the first thing Emma had respected when it came to Regina's autonomy over her situation all day. But she had to admit the offer was tempting. The thought of stepping out onto an unfamiliar high street and having to find somewhere to stay with the few notes she had stuffed in her handbag was not appealing.

"Are you sure?" she asked, suddenly shy at the realisation that she was close to accepting help from this woman who had been bugging her practically all day.

"Totally sure," Emma nodded enthusiastically.

"And your flatmates?"

"Will be fine, don't worry. Belle is hardly ever in now she's met her rich older boyfriend and Ruby's brought home more than her fair share of strange people in the past few years."

Regina bristled a little and Emma hurriedly stuttered something about Regina not being strange just as the tube began to slow down again. "This is my stop," Emma said, cheeks a little pink. "Ready?"

With only two tube stops between herself and Killian, Regina couldn't exactly say she felt safely away from the man who had controlled her life ever since she arrived in London. But she had to admit the idea of being inside someone else's flat, a person Killian didn't know and wouldn't be able to find, was appealing.

"Ok, let's go," Regina nodded, reaching out to press the 'open' button on the doors as the train juddered to a stop.

Emma led the way as they walked in step with the other passengers who disembarked at East Finchley, working their way through the station until they emerged into the sunshine. Setting off down the street, Emma started up a commentary for Regina about the area, pointing out her favourite coffee shop, the deli which does the best sandwiches and showed her the park gate which would allow them to cut through Cherry Tree Wood to get to her house quicker. Regina wasn't really listening though. She was looking around at the leafy suburb, marvelling at how different every area of London was.

If Emma realised her words were floating over Regina's head, she didn't let on and kept up the continuous chatter until they reached a small wrought iron gate which she unlatched to lead the way up a slightly overgrown garden path.

"Sorry about the mess," Emma said, waving her hand towards the flowerbeds which did look as if they needed attention. "I'm not much of a gardener."

Regina ignored the unnecessary apology, looking up instead at the beautiful facade of the semi-detached house they now stood in front of.

"How do you afford this place?" Regina asked, not caring how rude the question may be.

"It's my parents'," Emma replied as she put the key in the lock and opened the front door. "They moved to a place with a bigger garden. My mum is super into growing veg and apparently the soil around here isn't any good either."

Regina stepped into the large, cool entrance hall, gazing in awe at the corridor which led through to the back of the house. Already she could see a beautiful large kitchen which looked out onto what she considered to be a perfectly reasonable sized garden. Emma walked on ahead, pointing to the living room as she passed an open door before making her way through to the kitchen.

"You want a drink?" she asked when Regina appeared in the doorway, still looking around in wonder.

"Water, please," Regina said, running her fingertips over the granite worktops.

"Sure you don't want anything stronger? I think I have some cider."

Shaking her head, Regina moved further into the room, walking around the dining table and over to the glass doors which led onto a walled garden, complete with small raised vegetable beds which looked, it was true, rather sparse in its summer produce.

"My mum is sad I didn't inherit her green thumb," Emma said, appearing at Regina's shoulder and passing her a glass of cool water. "I try but, well, you can see the results. Most of my carrots got eaten by slugs as soon as their little shoots appeared. I'm holding out some hope for my tomatoes but I think I'll be dependent on the supermarket for a few more years."

"Emma, this place is gorgeous," Regina breathed, turning to survey the kitchen again, taking in the large island, complete with what looked like a custom wine rack built into the side she was now facing. "What does your mum do to allow them to buy a place like this?"

"You mean, you don't think my dad could afford this on a cop salary?" Emma asked as she unlocked the back door and stepped out onto the small patio, motioning for Regina to follow.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend," Regina said hurriedly, knowing that British people firstly didn't like to talk about money and secondly didn't like to be questioned when it came to their salaries. She'd learned that from one of her regulars who'd become angry when she asked about his work and his lifestyle beyond the back seat of his car.

Emma chuckled and sat down in a wooden chair, waving away the apology. "No, you're right. Dad couldn't have bought this if it wasn't for Mum. She doesn't work, actually. But she comes from money. A distant relative was a member of the royal family, I can't remember who or when but basically that was enough for her to never have to work. I think she's technically a princess. So when they had me, they bought this place to be the family home. But then when Mum decided she wanted more outdoor space, they moved a bit further from the centre of London and since they didn't need the money from the sale, they suggested I move back in and have it as my own. Spoilt as hell, I know."

"No, it's not spoilt. You're lucky. Your family wants to support you; that's what families are supposed to do."

There was a silence as Emma seemed to remember the events which had happened just half an hour before. Regina didn't want to be the one to break it, knowing that the subject would come up soon enough anyway.

"Um, so, is Killian your real uncle or does he just ask you to call him that?"

Looks like Emma doesn't have a problem getting straight to the point, Regina mused. She took a sip of water to buy herself some time. "He's my real uncle," she admitted. "My mother's brother. He offered to help me get settled in London when I had announced to her that I wanted to come here."

"So, you … you weren't trafficked?"

"No warm up questions you want to ask before you go in for that one?" Regina quipped. But before Emma could protest, she answered. "No, not exactly. I made my way to London of my own accord. It had been a dream of mine for years. I wanted to come here to work in the British Library and I got a job working for them. Just entry level but it was still a dream come true. I had no idea how Killian made his money in London; he obviously never told his sister but he used to wire money back often and I was going to do the same. Puerto Rico isn't a rich country and I wanted to help my mother and my little sister. I mean, I did help them. I used to send money each week. They just never knew how I earned it."

"Regina, I'm so sorry," Emma said earnestly. "I can't believe your uncle would do that to you."

"Yeah, well, it is what it is," Regina shrugged.

Emma took a swig of her own drink before replying. "Look, I know you don't want to get my dad involved or go to the cops but Killian's a bad man, obviously. And I get that he's family but I am guessing you weren't the only woman working for him. If we stop him, Regina, you could help so many women get their lives back."

"I know," Regina whispered. "Just … not yet, ok? Not today."

"Not today," Emma agreed. "But one day?"

Regina laughed, in spite of herself. "You're persistent, aren't you?"

Emma shot her a lopsided grin. "What gave me away?"

Both women smiled now and Regina felt her stomach do a little flip as the edges of Emma's green orbs crinkled in her direction. She held her gaze for a moment before breaking it, gazing off down the garden as she ran her finger through the condensation which had gathered on the outside of her glass.

"I need time, Emma," Regina said quietly. "I'm not ready."

"Ok."

"No, I mean, I'm really not ready. I'm not ready to think about any of this or what's happened to me, let alone talk about it with the police." She turned back to the blonde. "Did it ever occur to you that the reason I refused to say anything at the hospital was because I literally can't bring myself to say it out loud? It's too much. It's too big. I'm not … I can't … just, look, you got me here, ok? You got me out. Please let that be enough for now. Give me some time. A couple of days. I can't go anywhere. I've got no money, no passport. Just give me some time and then maybe I'll think about what to do next. Is that ok?"

"Ok," Emma agreed. "Whatever you want. I get it, I do. I mean, I know I can't actually ever really understand but I'll do my best to and I promise not to push you into anything you're not ready for. But I have a condition of my own."

Regina nodded slowly. "Go on."

"You can't make me apologise for what I did today. I know I overstepped. God knows my parents were mad when they found out I looked up your address on the NHS systems. I get that I shouldn't have done that and I get that I violated your privacy or whatever. But I'm not sorry I did it. It might have been technically wrong but I still think I did the right thing. And you might not be ready to hear that and that's fine. But please don't ask me to apologise for what I've done today because I'm not sorry for any of it and if I had to repeat today, I'd do it again exactly the same."

The blonde folded her arms in defiance as if to draw her statement to a close. Regina allowed her mind to wander back over the events of the past four hours or so, her fingers drifting up to her lip where the steri strips sat as a mark of how the two of them met. The raw wound tingled slightly but the pain from that morning had faded to a dull throb.

"I'm not asking you to apologise," Regina said eventually. "And I don't care that you found my address through work even if you shouldn't have. Because if you hadn't knocked on that door when you did, I think I'd be dead right now. Whatever happened today, and however it happened, I'm pretty sure you saved my life."

A/N: In case you missed it, this story was inspired by Little Lady by Ed Sheeran. Give it a google (or Spotify). We've gone off piste now so there'll be no spoilers if you listen.