There was no word from Regina for almost a week, and Emma began to think that the hapless stalker was no longer a threat, and went underground altogether.
However, when Regina calls again the following Monday, the way she says "Sheriff" makes Emma instantly tense.
"Him again?"
"Yes," the woman breathes, and that's enough for Emma.
"Where do we need to go?"
"To my house."
"We'll be there in ten minutes," Emma hangs up, jumps to her feet, and waves Jones over as she pulls her jacket off the back of the chair.
The red paint on the door looks ominously like blood, and Emma knows that was the idea. Jones can't help but whistle as he reads the reproachful 'Whore' which stands out sharply against the snow-white front door of the mansion.
"Pretty strong statement," he comments, and Emma shoots him a warning look. She doesn't want Regina to snap at her for letting her assistant in on the whole story without consulting her. Regina doesn't trust Jones the way Emma does, but she doesn't want Regina to feel like she shouldn't trust her, to regret opening up to her.
Regina just gives him a tired look. She stands with her arms crossed over her chest, looking more like a person who had enough of everything, but Swan knows she just puts on a brave face.
"It can be painted over," Emma consoles as best she can.
"Thank you for that invaluable piece of advice, Sheriff. I don't know how I've ever managed without you before," Mills grumbles.
Emma knows she's stressed out, and she can't blame her.
"Any chance you have some white paint? KJ will paint it over as he watches the house. And we'll go to the station and watch the footage. The camera was supposed to capture this scumbag," she nods at the note on the door.
"There must be some paint left in the basement after some repairs."
"I'll come down and get it," Jones volunteers.
Regina takes a shuddering breath, digging her fingers deeper into the biceps, and glances at Emma.
"We'll take my car."
Sitting in the empty station late at night feels strange and uncomfortable. The burned-out fluorescent light flickers incessantly, unnerving, and Emma feels like a participant in some stupid, cheap teen thriller. She connected the camera to the monitor, and now she and Regina peer intently at the blurry shadows on the screen. It's a man, Emma is sure of that now. A hoodie hides his face – in the dark, it's impossible to recognize anything but a silhouette. He wields spray paint, unaware that he's being recorded. And then he turns directly to the camera, but at the same time, his hand rises, still holding the can, and for a few seconds, she and Regina just stare blankly at the black screen.
"He painted over the lens..." Emma mutters, more to herself.
"He knew there was a camera all along," Regina says quietly, confused.
"So he's watching the house?" she glances at Regina, who looks back at her, eyes filled with concern. "Crazy freak..."
Regina's jaw moves, nostrils flaring, and Emma quickly reassures her.
"We'll assign protection to your house."
"No," Regina shakes her head. "I don't want to attract public attention. The presence of an officer on the street will inevitably raise questions, and unnecessary rumors will percolate throughout the town."
"I can patrol in your car. No one will notice anything at night," Swan suggests. "There is no point in installing new cameras. He's aware of them, and they obviously don't bother him."
"I wouldn't be surprised if he painted over the others, too. If he's watching the house..." Regina trails off.
"Okay, let's go back. We'll figure this out together."
Regina's black Mercedes pulls up in the driveway of the mansion where Jones sits on the porch. The night air smells of fresh paint. The man stands up when he sees them.
After pausing on the porch for a few seconds and taking stock of the Deputy's work, Regina doesn't say a word but opens the door with her key and goes inside, leaving it open behind her. Emma and Killian follow. But Swan doesn't even get to take a few steps inside the house – she bumps into Regina, who suddenly stops on her tracks by the kitchen doorway. Very slowly, Mills steps through the door, and the kitchen is flooded with a pleasant orange glow. Emma knows immediately, something is wrong, and with a sudden pang of unease, she follows, trying to keep up.
It becomes immediately clear, what caught Regina's eye – the marble tile that covers the wall behind the sink, was painted in the same red paint, but this time with a slightly different message.
'Scared?'
There are no direct threats or insults, but somehow the scene looks much more threatening in an empty house in the middle of the night.
"What the...?" gasps Regina.
"Fuck," Emma swears.
Jones just whistles, but this time it was a minor note.
"How did he?.."
"You closed the doors, didn't you?" Emma asks Regina, a little more sharply than she intended.
"I did close them. Both front and back. I'll tell you more – I went inside while I was waiting for you, but none of that was here, " Regina says in a steely voice, but Emma senses fear lurking behind her anger. Mills looks pointedly at Emma as if to say, "do you know what that means?".
Emma understands.
"So he broke in the house while KJ was looking after it..." she says, turning to her Deputy, who looks a little confused. "You didn't go anywhere while we were gone? Didn't go to the backyard?"
"You were away for half an hour at the most. I mostly watched the front door, but the back yard was clean. The asshole must know how to get in the other way," he says, spreading his arms.
Regina takes a deep, shuddering breath, her eyes still fastened on the message.
"We need to search the house," the Sheriff and the Deputy quickly leave the kitchen. Emma goes to the second floor, and Jones takes over the first floor and the basement.
About ten minutes later, Emma, who found nothing, goes back down to the kitchen, feeling the tiredness getting the better of her. Regina is still there, tries to scrape the paint off the tile with her fingernail, probably figuring out how to get rid of it.
"This is a break-in, he can land in prison for that," Swan says because there's a need to say something. "And it doesn't look like he's going to stop."
Regina shoots her a hard look. "Thank you for continuing to state the obvious, Sheriff."
Jones comes back, brushing the basement dust off his hands.
"Nothing," he reports, pursing his lips.
Regina chuckles – as if she didn't expect anything else.
"I'm staying here," Emma says simply, gauging the reactions of the others, mostly Regina. The momentary surprise on Mills' face is soon replaced by something akin to relief. Or so it seems to Emma. However, the woman remains silent, her eyebrows raised in surprise, and Emma continues.
"We can't leave you here alone. This lunatic let us know that he can easily break into your house, and I doubt that anything will stop him from doing it again. It's dangerous to be here alone now. We don't know what's on his mind or how sick in the head he is. And I, if anything..." she hesitates, meeting Regina's gaze. The woman nods curtly.
"Agreed, then," Emma says, smiling stiffly. "I'll probably sleep on the couch..."
"Nonsense," Regina finally says. "I have a guest room. Right next to mine. I'll make you a bed there."
"Cool," Emma shrugs lightly. "That's even better. I'll hear if... Well, you never know... We'd better not split up anyway."
Regina listens to her in silence, frowning slightly. Emma turns to Killian.
"Go home and get some sleep. Maybe we'll have to do more patrols tomorrow. We can spy on this guy, Sidney, but we don't have any evidence against him..."
"Are you sure?" he starts to say, but Swan doesn't think Regina would tolerate Jones in her house, even if it's for her good.
"This guy looks like a skittish sucker to me. He only has the balls to intimidate when he can stay off the grid. I don't think he has the guts to get into trouble with an armed Sheriff in the house," she pats the holster strapped to her hip.
After a brief hesitation, the man nods and says goodbye, walking out into the darkness of the night. And yet, with him gone, Emma feels more vulnerable. It's uneasy to be alone in this huge house, where a certain shady guy knows his way around too well. What is it like for Regina to be here alone? Emma thinks she would have got a dog long ago. Being scared with someone else is less spooky.
The lamp on the bedside table casts shadows on the floor, and as Emma sits with her legs swung over the side of the bed in Regina's spare room, for the first time in years, she feels the same chill of fear as when she was afraid of the monster under the bed. Only now, it wasn't a monster that she was afraid of, but a real person. Who seems to be able to hide anywhere and pop out of nowhere at any moment. And it makes it somewhat difficult to enjoy the comfort of the room.
Shaking her head to clear it of all unnecessary thoughts, Emma pulls her phone out of her jacket pocket to set an early-morning alarm, and her heart sinks – seven missed calls from Lily. Heck. In the chaos of the evening, she forgot everything else. Things like her girlfriend, who was waiting for her to get home from work, unaware that she, Emma, is spending the night in someone else's house and even forgot to tell her about it.
She was still twiddling with the phone in her hands and bracing herself to tell Lily this unpleasant news when there is a knock on the door. Emma answers and Regina comes into the room, carrying a pile of bedclothes that she leaves at the foot of the bed.
"Thank you," Emma says, but for some reason, Regina lingers, doesn't leave the room. Emma, who still twiddles with her phone, explains, "I forgot to tell Lily I'm not coming home today."
Regina nods absently, looking formal again. She doesn't answer right away. "I don't think your girlfriend will like it."
Emma shrugs indifferently and turns away, staring at the phone in her hand.
"What can you do? That's part of the job."
"And yet, something tells me that she would prefer you to stay anywhere but here..." she purses her lips and arches an immaculate brow.
Emma blinks, trying to hide her surprise. Did Regina mention... them? Did she make a reference to their difficult relationship? Did she admit voluntarily, when absolutely no one was forcing her to, that Lily has reasons to be jealous?
Now it's Emma's turn to purse her lips.
"I think she knows perfectly well that this is nonsense. As a Sheriff, I stayed behind to keep an eye on the Mayor's house. She knows better than to read too much into it."
Perhaps it's the dim light cast by the lamp, but it seems to Emma that there are two faint red spots on the woman's chiseled cheekbones. Regina shakes her head, brushing a strand of black hair away from her face. There's something dangerous about her, the way she looks. Her jet-black hair, the severe curve of her dark brows, and these burning dark eyes that glitter darkly in the dim lamplight. A sleek black suit that she still hasn't taken off. She is obviously uncomfortable changing clothes in her own house, where the presence of an outsider is still lingering.
Emma's stomach lurches. Regina Mills turned into a remarkably beautiful woman who couldn't help but excite. And Swan wants to curse herself for these thoughts.
"Of course," Regina lifts her chin. "Is that all you need, Sheriff?" she's back to being Mayor Mills. "Towels are in the bathroom," she says, pointing at the door. "There's a toothbrush in the cabinet over the sink. I've brought you the bedclothes."
"I'm good, thank you."
"In that case..." she turns to leave.
"I'll keep my ears open," Emma assures her. She doesn't know why it was necessary to state the obvious. Maybe, for some stupid reason, she wants to delay the moment when Regina will turn around and leave. "If you hear anything, even the slightest rustle, wake me up right away. Don't go check on it alone."
With her hand on the doorknob, Regina turns to face her and says seriously.
"Thank you, Sheriff."
Emma nods, lifting the corner of her mouth slightly.
"Don't mention it, Madam Mayor."
Regina's lips twitch ever so slightly, and after saying good night, the woman closes the door behind her.
Fifteen years ago
After school, they sit at 'Granny's' in a booth by the window. Although Granny is a grandmother of their mutual friend Ruby only, it seems the whole town has safely forgotten about it. Regina went out of control and ordered a vanilla cheesecake with Emma, who now eats it, wielding the spoon unhurriedly. Regina's in a particularly good mood today – Swan can't help but notice. She must have made up with Robin over the weekend while Emma was hanging out at the rock festival. The thought makes her feel as if a nasty worm is methodically eating away at her insides. Emma doesn't want to ask. Regina will tell her when she feels like it. And much more willingly if you don't force her to.
But Emma doesn't want Robin's unseen presence to cloud their time together. It's easier not to talk or think about it. She'd rather imagine that Regina is just happy to spend time with her, that's why her brown eyes are shining with happiness, and a small smile has settled in the corners of her lips.
But the happy balloon that fills her with happiness whenever Regina is around starts to deflate inexorably. Her mere presence was always enough for Emma to feel good. But now, she starts to realize the simple truth – she's not the same thing to Regina as Regina is to her. She's no longer the reason for her good mood. Emma isn't enough anymore. Now Regina has Robin. Now it's up to Robin to affect Regina's mood. Now it's Robin who makes her eyes glow with happiness. Now it's way beyond Emma's powers, and there's no point in trying. Emma's... just a friend. And friends always come second.
The thought suddenly makes her feel so bad that for the first time, she wants to run away from Regina and not see her for a while. Leave her alone with the cheesecake and her thoughts of precious Robin. But she doesn't do it. She knows she just can't. Not when Regina is in her best frame of mind. It had been so long since she's seen her like this.
"How was your trip?" Regina asks, looking up at her. "You only said you liked it."
"Yeah, it was great," Emma forces a smile. "Chris introduced me to a couple of guys who also formed a band. They gave me their phone number, and I want to call them sometime."
"So you accepted her into the band?"
"She seems okay," Emma puts a spoonful of the forgotten cheesecake in her mouth. "I think she'll fit. And she's got style. Oh, by the way!" Swan brightens up. "We've finally come up with a name! 'The Dark Ones'!"
"'The Dark Ones'?" Regina crinkles her nose comically.
"Yeah. KJ suggested we should play with the Swan concept. Like 'Dark Swan' or something. But I said it smacked of ballet more rather than a rock band. So I decided on just 'The Dark Ones'! I think it's fun. Chris liked it, too."
"Sure," Regina grins, squeamishly picking up with her pinky the sugar grains that she spilled onto the table when she emptied the sugar bag into her coffee.
Emma freezes in place, looking at her friend. There she goes again. She was beginning to notice that Regina couldn't help but be sarcastic at the mention of Chris, and she didn't know what to make of it. Was Regina jealous? Emma looks down at her plate, picking at the pieces of dough with her spoon. Regina looks up at her because Emma doesn't seem to react at all to that little taunt. Emma sighs heavily, biting her lip, and steels herself for what she wants to say. Regina notices the change in her demeanor and doesn't take her serious eyes off her. Emma senses the sick feeling in her stomach, and her palms start to sweat. She swallows hard, knowing there's no turning back, and sets right her beanie hat that's fallen over her eyes.
Regina is her best friend, she has to understand, right? And what if she doesn't? Does Emma need such a friend? Intellectually she knows she doesn't. Yes, it will break her heart if Regina decides that she doesn't want to be friends with her anymore; if she thinks Emma is a freak and announces that she wants nothing to do with her any longer. But she also knows that she doesn't want to hide such an important truth about herself from a loved one.
And maybe she'll realize that Emma...
"What is it?" Regina's eyes grow alarmed. Emma fidgets, torn by the need to watch her reaction, but at the same time feeling she can't bear to look at her.
"I... realized something," Emma stammers, looking at her warily.
Regina waits in silence, frowning slightly. Something in her eyes tells Emma that everything is going to be all right. Their friendship is stronger than some stupid societal conventions. And Regina is the most adequate person she knows. She's always been a far cry from her terribly conservative mother, with her ideas of how things should be. Otherwise, she wouldn't be friends with Emma at all. Because Emma is... Well, Emma.
"I think I like girls," she hasn't had the heart to look up at Regina's face. That's why she starts when the girl slaps her palm on the table, which makes the saucers and spoons clink plaintively.
"Damn, I owe Zelena a twenty now," she shakes her head indignantly, but there's a hint of amusement in her voice, and Emma opens her mouth slightly, feeling a lingering tremor in her arms and legs as relief washes over her.
She blinks blankly. "You had a bet on me with Zelena?"
"Well, she said she wouldn't be surprised if it turned out you played for another team and that she'd give me a twenty if you didn't come out by our graduation. You're not offended, are you?" she squeezes her fingers gently, and it's enough to make Emma melt like butter on a frying pan.
"Why on Earth is Zelena so good at this?" Emma grumbles even though she's not angry at all. "Is she, by any chance...?"
"Who knows," Mills shrugs cheerfully. "She's never known which way was up. I wouldn't be surprised if she was. Well, how did you figure that out?"
"Well... I just thought that I was never very emotional about guys... And I was... about girls..." Swan mumbles listlessly, adjusting her hat again.
"Maybe you just didn't meet the right one?" Regina asks carefully. "You never had a boyfriend..."
"Actually, I did try going out with KJ, in case you've forgotten," Emma says fervently. "It's just I soon realized that he's more like a friend to me. And he got it, thank God, and took it well."
"You didn't even kiss, did you?" Regina wrinkles her forehead, recalling.
"You don't have to make out with a guy to know you don't want to make out with him," Swan instructs. "Like, you don't have to kiss Granny to know that – no, thanks."
They both look at Granny, who is just pulling a bear claw out of the display case with a pair of kitchen tongs. Then they look at each other and burst out laughing. The woman gives them a reproachful look over the top of her half-rimmed glasses, then belligerently blows away a stray gray lock that shook loose from the bun at the back of her head.
"Maybe you're right," Regina still chuckles, and Emma giggles into her fist. Regina's gaze becomes piercing.
"Curiously, you came to that conclusion after you got... um... more intimate with that Christina of yours," she drawls with an enigmatic smile.
"What?" Emma blinks blankly.
"Oh, Emma, c'mon! You couldn't not notice the way she looks at you! You are not blind. If you let her, she wouldn't get off you."
"Do you think she likes me? As a girl?" Emma stares at Regina wide-eyed.
"I think she has a crush on you," Mills says seriously, and after a pause during which Emma digests what she's just heard, she adds matter-of-factly. "Want to hook up with her?"
"Are you suggesting I hook up with her?" Swan asks, at a loss what to think. She didn't plan for this conversation to go this far. "Well, why not?" Regina shrugs lightly. "That'll be at least... an interesting experience for you. And maybe this will help you realize something about yourself. Whether you like girls or not," she flashes her a smile, but Emma doesn't smile back.
She nods vaguely and leans back on the bench, trying to sort out the jumble of feelings. Regina wasn't horrified by her admission, supportive even. Then why doesn't she feel particularly happy? For some reason, Emma would have liked it better if she was terrified that Emma might start having an affair with Chris. If only Regina showed that she didn't want to discuss the subject. If only she wasn't so willing to push Emma into another girl's arms.
Then Emma might have hoped that they were a little more than friends after all. Then there would be just a small chance that Regina wasn't looking at her as a friend, either.
She'd rather Regina didn't want to share her with anyone.
Emma is getting more and more tempted to get up and go out. Alone. But she holds back. She won't let her ridiculous illusions get in the way of her and Regina's friendship. It isn't Regina's fault that she doesn't have romantic feelings for Emma. It's no one's fault.
Perhaps she really should try to hook up with Chris. Maybe it would help distract her mind from thinking about Regina. Who still has Robin anyway.