A/N: Apologies for the lack of a chapter last week. I've tried to make up for it with an extra long one this time!

As the week passed, Emma and Regina fell into a routine of sorts. Once Emma's shifts started again, she was reluctant to crawl out of bed each morning, leaving Regina snuggled beneath the duvet. But by the time she had showered, Regina was up too. They'd eat breakfast together, the brunette wearing a dressing gown as she received her morning methadone dose. Emma would give her a kiss goodbye at the door and head to the hospital.

After work, the two of them would cook together, sometimes with Ruby too if her shifts aligned. Then they'd watch tv or read before heading up to bed where Emma would be the big spoon and Regina would fall asleep in her arms.

Work was, in a way, a welcome distraction for Emma. Not that she wanted to be distracted from Regina but she had to admit it was nice to be able to focus on something where she wasn't constantly worrying. Because despite the fact that they hadn't had another night like the previous weekend, Emma did continue to worry about Regina, particularly her recovery.

She'd even used one of her breaks to go and speak with Doctor Hopper, to ask some questions and seek reassurance that Regina was indeed on the right path. Archie was understanding in Emma's concerns but was able to console the blonde by praising Regina's progress so far. Everything was moving in the right direction.

Regina herself had come into the hospital for a second CBT session. It had coincided with the end of Emma's shift on Friday so the two of them had shared an Uber home. Emma hadn't brought up the idea of taking the tube again. She knew Regina didn't yet feel safe enough to use public transport. She wondered whether the woman would ever truly feel safe again. Certainly, she wouldn't be comfortable enough to move around London on her own until the man responsible for her trauma was behind bars.

While Emma didn't push, she was curious to know what Regina spoke about in her CBT sessions. But that Friday night, Regina didn't seem ready to share. Emma let the matter rest, hoping that in time Regina would be able to open up to her. Instead, they snuggled up on the sofa, watching a movie.

"Did you remember to wrap your mother's present?" Regina asked as a character on the screen unwrapped a gift for their birthday.

"Yep, all done. Card too," Emma said, pressing a kiss to the side of Regina's neck as she pulled the brunette a little closer against her. She loved being the big spoon to the shorter woman. "Are you still up for coming to the restaurant?"

"If I'm still invited, yes, I think that would be nice. It'll be a change of pace. Are you sure your mother won't mind?"

"Dad wouldn't have invited you if she would."

Regina was unconvinced by that but said nothing. She knew Emma's father was acutely aware of her circumstances but she didn't know how much Emma's mother had been told. She assumed most of the details. The knowledge that she was about to meet someone else who knew what she'd been through put her a little on edge. But that feeling was overridden by the desire to go out for a meal with Emma. Despite everything, she was looking forward to doing something 'normal' with the woman whose arms were now wrapped around her.

"And, do they know about us?"

"I haven't told them anything yet," Emma murmured.

"Ok."

The tone was a little despondent and Emma immediately read Regina's mind. "Not because I don't want to tell the whole world, Regina. I'm not hiding this from them. It just hasn't come up in conversation and I figured I'd wait until I saw them in person. Plus, I kinda want them to get to know you first, see how amazing you are, independent of our relationship status. Does that make sense?"

"Aside from the fact that you think I'm amazing, yes, it makes sense," Regina answered, stroking her fingers up and down the back of Emma's hand.

Emma didn't reply. She knew Regina was never going to believe how inspired Emma was by the strength and courage woman lying in her arms. It wasn't that she'd given up telling her but now wasn't the time. Instead, she pressed another kiss to just below the woman's hairline and murmured in her ear that maybe they should go upstairs to bed.

Despite the fact that they had been sharing a bed for a week now, their physical relationship hadn't progressed beyond kissing and holding one another. Emma was hesitant about putting any sort of pressure on Regina and Regina was not yet ready to take the lead. It wasn't exactly a stalemate; neither woman found their situation at all stale. It felt right for where they were, for what they had been through.

So when Emma slipped into bed, she nuzzled herself into Regina's back, curling her body to fit the shorter woman's, and kissed her cheek.

"Goodnight, beautiful," she whispered, as Regina reached out to switch off the bedside light.

Thanks to a busy Saturday shift, Emma was late back from work and only had twenty minutes to shower and change before heading out to the restaurant. This busyness was perhaps a blessing in disguise as it distracted the blonde from worrying too much about how her mother would react to Regina.

While she hadn't said anything to the brunette about her mother, she knew that unlike her father, Mary Margaret had serious concerns about Emma getting involved in Regina's life. They'd only had one brief conversation about it, during one of Emma's lunch break earlier in the week, but she knew her mother had reservations. She didn't know how she'd react when she found out her daughter was romantically involved in the woman whom she had more than once referred to as a prostitute.

Regina knew none of this, however, as she waited patiently in the living room, a bag containing Emma's mother's present and card sitting on the hall table. When she heard Emma's thunderous footsteps, she got up and met the harried blonde in the corridor.

"Ready?" Emma asked, grabbing her purse and checking that her phone was in it.

"Yes," Regina smiled, reaching out to flatten the collar of Emma's shirt down. "Where is the restaurant."

"Just down the high street. Walking distance, if that's ok?"

Regina hesitated for a moment before nodding. Emma, however, caught the slight pause.

"We can get an Uber if you want," she offered. "The restaurant is just beyond the tube station. It'll take us about ten minutes to walk. I'd planned to cut through the park but we can stick to the main roads if you prefer and you're comfortable walking."

"Main roads sound like a good idea," Regina said quietly. "I'm sorry, I don't want to be awkward."

Emma offered a sad smile before stepping close to Regina and kissing her lightly. "You're not awkward. You're sensible. Main roads it is. And if we decide to get an Uber home when it's dark later, that's totally fine. Just tell me what you feel comfortable with, ok?"

Nodding, Regina held up the bag containing the present which Emma took in one hand before opening the front door with the other. On the quiet street outside, she reached for Regina's hand and interlaced their fingers. She squeezed lightly before they set off.

It was early evening, the heatwave now over but the air still pleasantly warm. They talked as they made their way to Finchley high street. Both women kept their eyes peeled for Killian, and Regina was also on the lookout for any of his known associates. But the streets were empty of threats and they soon arrived at the restaurant. Emma let go of Regina's hand to open the door and stood back, allowing the younger woman to enter first.

"Emma! Regina!" David called as soon as they stepped inside, Emma's hand guiding Regina at the small of her back.

"Hey," Emma grinned, weaving her way through the tables to reach her parents. "Happy birthday, Mum."

"Thank you darling," Mary Margaret said, accepting the gift bag which her daughter handed to her and pulling her in for a hug. "And you must be Regina." She spoke these words over the blonde's shoulders, catching sight of the woman standing slightly awkwardly behind their embrace.

"Yes, hello Mrs Swan. It's a pleasure to meet you, and happy birthday."

"Call me Mary Margaret," the pixie haired woman offered, releasing her daughter and gesturing for the two of them to take their seats. "David and Emma have told me so much about you."

Emma groaned internally at the words and Regina froze. Mary Margaret realised her mistake and stuttered to clarify what she meant. "I wasn't talking about … I mean, they had just told me … it sounds like Emma …"

"Mum, be quiet," Emma said gently to the stuttering woman.

Mary Margaret did stop talking, a look of embarrassment on her face. She might have been concerned about her daughter getting involved in rescuing a sex worker from a sex trafficking ring by essentially hiding her in her home, but her British upbringing prevented her from actually addressing the subject. Silence fell and Regina took her seat and picked up the menu, needing something to distract herself from the elephant in the room.

"So, are we getting some Champagne?" David suggested, eager to break the tension.

"Yes, great idea, Dad," Emma smiled, looking around to catch the attention of one of the wait staff. "So, Mum, what did you get for your birthday?" she asked once the order had been placed.

"Your dad got me this dress," Mary Margaret began, gesturing to her outfit, which both Emma and Regina politely admired, "and obviously a tray of my favourite chocolates. I also got a new food processor which I've already tried out and it's amazing. I've got a box of brownies for you to take back with you, by the way. This meal is his treat and tomorrow I'm dragging him to the cinema to see a film he really doesn't want to see."

"It's not that I don't want to see it," David defended. "It's just not my first choice. But for you, sweetheart, I'm more than happy to accompany you, pay ridiculous prices for popcorn, and sit in the dark with loud members of the general public for a couple of hours."

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes but smiled at her husband. "Thank you, dear. Emma, how was work this week?"

"Not bad," Emma replied. "Busy today though. We were almost late because the last patient I caught took longer than expected to get patched up."

"Well, your job comes first, of course," Mary Margaret said. "You get that from your father, you know."

David winked at his daughter before reaching for the bottle of Champagne which had arrived and pouring out four portions.

"Just a little glass for me, thanks Sergeant Swan," Regina said quickly as he moved to the final glass.

He nodded his understanding and pushed the half full glass over to her. "Here you go, and please call me David. I'm not a police officer today. I'm Emma's dad, ok?"

"Ok," Regina agreed, "thank you."

"Cheers," Emma announced, picking up her glass and raising it, "Happy birthday, Mum."

They all clinked glasses and then took a moment to browse the menu before placing their orders. Once done, Emma steered the conversation onto a topic she knew would keep her mother occupied for a while and minimise the risk of questions being directed towards Regina: baking.

As predicted, Mary Margaret prattled on about baking and her new food processor until half way through their main course. Emma and Regina listened as she explained the superiority of the new piece of equipment when it came to cake batter without really understanding. It was at this time that Emma prompted her mother to open her present, which led to peels of delight as Mary Margaret unwrapped a first edition, signed copy of a Mary Berry cookbook. This led them onto conversations about how the Great British Bake Off wasn't the same without the legendary master of cakes. But even Mary Margaret couldn't talk baking for the entire meal and as their main courses disappeared from their plates, the topic changed.

"So, Regina, Emma tells me you're from Puerto Rico? What's it like?"

Regina looked up from her plate where she'd been cutting the last of her fish. "Oh, it's nice. Warm, most of the time. Hot, really. Have you ever been to the Caribbean?"

"No, but I'd love to go some time. What's the food like there?"

"It's nice although it can be quite unhealthy. We love frying things and there's a lot of rice which can make dishes a bit heavy. I've promised to cook Emma a traditional Puerto Rican meal actually. Perhaps you two could come over to try it?"

Emma beamed at Regina's offer and nodded enthusiastically at the idea. But her smile disappeared at her mother's response. "So, you plan to stay with Emma long term, do you?"

"Mum, not now," Emma hissed.

"I'm just asking, darling," Mary Margaret defended. "Am I not allowed to be curious about your newest flatmate? The mortgage is in our name still, remember?"

"But I pay it," Emma shot back at the passive aggressive snipe. "Seriously, Mum, back off."

"Emma, it's ok," Regina said, laying her hand gently on Emma's forearm. "Mrs Swan, I understand that you're probably not happy about me being in your house and I don't blame you. I am grateful, however. I know it's your house and I owe both you and Emma a debt of gratitude for allowing me to stay. I don't take that for granted, believe me."

"Well, good," Mary Margaret replied, a little flicker of guilt as she watched Regina sit back in her chair, the remainder of her meal forgotten.

"I know what you're thinking," Regina pressed on. "I know you think Emma's taking a risk to allow me into her home. I suppose I am a risk but I want to reassure you both that I am doing everything I can to get better."

"Get better?" Mary Margaret asked.

Regina glanced at Emma, forehead creased. She had assumed the blonde had told her parents about her heroin addiction. David, surely must know.

"Mum, you know Regina's a recovering addict, remember? She's doing really well. It's been two weeks now and she's making real progress. I'm really proud of her," she added, shooting a smile at the brunette.

"That's amazing, Regina, congratulations," David beamed, raising a glass in her direction.

"Well, I suppose that's good news," Mary Margaret nodded. "And thank you for acknowledging our concerns."

"Mum, you and Dad don't have the right to have concerns about this," Emma sighed. "This isn't anything to do with you. Dad, yeah, ok, I can see why you might have an opinion but Mum, you met Regina for the first time tonight and you already have a negative preconception about her. Can't you judge her for who she is, not what you've heard about her or speculated about her history? Regina deserves to be seen as more than her past and I really want you both to see her for who she is today, not what's happened to her."

"Of course, sweetheart," David assured her. "Regina, I'm sorry if either myself or Mary Margaret made you feel judged in any way tonight."

"Thank you, Sergeant Swan, I appreciate that," Regina replied.

"It's David," the man reminded her. "Unless we're talking specifically about your case, it's David, ok?"

"My case?"

Emma glared at her father before turning to meet Regina's curious gaze. "It's not what you think."

Regina arched an eyebrow. "It isn't? What do you think I think it is?"

Shifting awkwardly in her seat, Emma reached for Regina's hand under the table but the brunette pulled away. "I didn't ask him to do this but, well, Dad has been looking into the address where I found you."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. Regina's eyes widened as she realised the implications of what she'd been told. "You're investigating where I lived?" she asked, turning to David.

"We are," David nodded. "And in Emma's defence, she didn't ask me to do this. Emma texted me the address just before she went into the building the day she got you out of there, just in case something went wrong. I didn't ask her permission before running it; I did that in my capacity as a police officer, not her father. It's my job to investigate crimes like the ones which you were a victim of, Regina. These operations move when they feel the heat of law enforcement on them. I couldn't sit on a lead like that until you were ready to talk."

"But I'm not ready," Regina whispered. "I'm not ready to do this, to talk about this. Emma, I told you I wasn't ready." She turned back to the blonde who was looking a mixture of guilty and worried.

"I know you're not and neither me nor Dad will ask you to do anything you're not ready for," Emma assured her, once again reaching for her hands and feeling a wave of relief when Regina didn't pull away. "I'm so sorry, Regina. I wanted to tell you myself, when the time was right, not … well, not here."

"There is no right time to tell me you've gone behind my back, Emma."

"Regina, this wasn't Emma, it was me. Don't blame her for me doing my job."

"But you knew," Regina pointed out to Emma, ignoring the presence of the blonde's parents now.

Emma nodded. "Yeah, I knew."

"For how long?"

"A week."

"A week?" Regina pulled her hands from Emma's grasp again. "So you knew that he was looking into this before anything happened between us? You knew when you were trying to persuade me to give my statement? Is that why you wanted me to talk? To help your dad's already open case?"

"No, I mean, yes. Yes, to the first two questions. But no to the second two. I don't want you to give a statement to help my dad at work. I want you to give a statement because I want the bastards who did this to you punished. And I also know that getting them off the street will protect other women. Your friends, remember?"

Regina narrowed her eyes. "Yes, I remember," she said coolly. "It's not like I can forget is it?"

"I know, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. Look, I know you're not ready and that's why I didn't tell you what Dad was doing. I wasn't hiding it from you, Regina. I was waiting until you were ready. Please, you have to believe me that I didn't want you to feel blindsided by this news, certainly not at my mum's birthday meal."

This reminded Regina that they had an audience. She blushed as she turned towards Mary Margaret and David, both of whom had been listening attentively. "Right, yeah, I'm sorry. We can talk about this later."

"I -"

"Later, Emma," Regina said, with more authority than she felt.

The blonde stopped talking and glanced at her father who gave her the smallest shrug. Mary Margaret, for once in her life, decided not to ask the question which she was burning to ask.

"Dessert?" she suggested, instead.

The four of them were soon distracted by the array of delicious sounding sweets, though neither Emma nor Regina had much of an appetite. Both decided to pass and sat quietly while Emma's parents shared two desserts between them.

As soon as the plates were cleared, Emma made an excuse for them to leave. The atmosphere was tense and she didn't want to stay there any longer than necessary. Regina said she was happy to walk back to the house, rather than Uber, mostly because she was willing to do anything which would allow them to get out of there as quickly as possible.

The four of them stood. Emma hugged both her parents while Regina stood a little back from the table. They said their goodbyes and then Emma followed Regina from the restaurant. Out of the street, the late evening dusk cast long shadows.

"You sure you're ok to walk home?" Emma asked.

"I'm fine," Regina replied, already setting off towards the house.

Emma hurried to catch up with her but didn't reach for her hand this time. They walked quickly, and in silence. Emma didn't know what to say and Regina needed to just get home. She needed quiet. She needed space to think.

Once at the house, Emma unlocked the front door and Regina followed her inside.

"Regina, can we talk?" she asked the retreating back of the brunette who was already climbing the stairs by the time she'd locked the door again.

"I'm tired," Regina replied, pausing on the staircase but not turning around.

"Ok. Um, I'll be up in a minute."

"Actually, I think I'll sleep in the guest room tonight."

"Regina, please -"

"I can't do this right now, Emma." Finally, Regina turned around. Emma could see that the woman was holding back tears. She hated that she had been the cause of that expression.

She slowly nodded her understanding. "Ok, we can talk tomorrow. But for what it's worth, I'm really sorry."

"I know you are," Regina replied. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

She watched as Regina climbed up the stairs and out of sight. A few seconds later, the door to the guest room snapped shut. "Fuck," Emma sighed before making her own way up to the top floor where her bed suddenly felt very empty.

A/N: Do you think Emma should have told Regina earlier?