Christmas Eve

"Regina, dear. There you are. I must have been mistaken in believing I'd raised you better than this."

Biting the inside of her cheek, Regina didn't even bother to look over her shoulder.

"I'm clearing the dishes, Mother. How about you hold off on the theatrics until the day I plan to run off and join the circus?" Regina scoffed and picked up a plate she'd already washed three times.

"We hire help to handle dishwashing, sweetheart." Regina pressed her lips together to resist rolling her eyes as Cora continued. "Don't try and pretend like you're not hiding out in my kitchen to avoid speaking to the lovely gentleman waiting for you in the other room."

Regina reached for a dish towel, drying her hands swiftly, and turned. She crossed her arms across her chest.

"While I appreciate the expansive amount of energy I'm sure you've expended convincing him to come here tonight, I've made it abundantly clear that I do not need any more blind dates." Her tone was sharp, and she wasn't sure if that would only infuriate Cora or if it would work to get her to drop the subject entirely.

"Oh, Regina," Cora sighed and took a step closer. The sharp slope of her lips gave Regina her answer. "You know I only have your best interest at heart."

The soft scoff never escaped her lips – getting trapped somewhere in Regina's throat. But the sound was still audible.

"The last man you tried to set me up with spent the duration of the evening discussing his love for the second amendment and his firm beliefs in pro-life. Perhaps you can leave my dating life up to me going forward?"

"I worry about you. You spend all your time alone, with your phone pressed to your ear in those harrowing business meetings all day."

"Well, Mother. Last I'd checked, that tends to come with the territory of starting your own business and serving as its CEO."

Regina didn't boast, but she loved to remind her mother of her success at any chance she could get. Sure, she might not be spending her weeknights out with friends or perusing the club scene of New York City on weekends. But there was a certain swell of pride in her chest that always accompanied the thought of how far she'd come.

It helped that she had assistance from her father – both his financials and his business background helped her get started. But the hard work was something she would never let anyone take from her. She built her marketing firm from the ground up, taking the company public only a few years ago.

"Yes, dear. I know all about how hard you work. But isn't it all just a bit selfish?" Cora shook her head.

Regina blinked. "I'm sorry? Selfish?"

"Well, yes. I'd love to see a grandchild in my lifetime. And for my daughter to be happy, of course."

Lifting her hand up to her head, Regina pressed two fingers to her temple and frowned.

"I am happy, Mother. And I don't need to marry to have a child."

"Well, you're already in your mid-thirties. Don't you think you're playing with fire waiting any longer?"

"Okay—" Regina lifted both of her hands in the air. "I'm done with this conversation. It's always the same with you. Why don't you ever care about what I want?"

She stomped out of the kitchen and saw the eager smile on the man her mother invited tonight.

"Ah. There you are, Regina." He beamed as he took a few steps closer.

"I'm so sorry, Robin. You seem like a lovely guy." She paused, unsure how she could talk her way out of it. But before she could utter another word, Robin lifted his arm and reached for her shoulder, his eyes remaining locked on her chest.

"Why don't we go somewhere a little more secluded and I can show you just how lovely I can truly be?"

Through gritted teeth, Regina inhaled sharply. It was bad enough that this man was implying they go sneak off to make out like children while in her parent's home, but there was something off in his smile that unsettled her.

"It seems you've already managed to prove me wrong. What a shame. You weren't even all that horrible to look at." Regina forced a grin before reaching for her coat and heading out the door, not bothering to say her round of goodbyes. She made a mental note to send a text to her father later to apologize.

Grateful that Cora had opted to host Christmas Eve this year at her home in the city rather than their usual winter home in Connecticut, Regina took the opportunity to walk home – despite the sharp bite of the winter air.

String lights managed to make the city seemingly brighter than usual, making her walk a pleasant one. But as the wind picked up—and adjusting her scarf did little to keep her warm—she couldn't resist the way the soft lights from a bar just down the block were calling her name.

"Emma!" The voice echoed across the room but Emma didn't turn. She recognized the sound of her best friend and could tell she'd had too much to drink from the slur in her tone. "Hey, Emma. C'mere!"

Finally, Emma lifted her head but didn't budge. She wasn't about to give up her seat on the couch that she'd claimed hours ago – she was confident there was an Emma-shaped imprint permanently etched into the fabric upholstery.

"Emma Swan, get your ass over here!" Ruby called again and Emma groaned. She stood, reluctantly. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy being in Ruby's company. She always did. But, for some reason, everyone and everything just seemed to annoy Emma tonight. She chalked it up to not having enough to drink. But, truthfully, she was just bitter about this whole holiday.

At 29-years-old, being the only single friend at every party was growing tiring with each event that came and went. She knew it was her own fault. Finding a date required you to put yourself out there, and she never wanted to do that. Instead, she focused on her work. Her reputation as a bail bondsperson was exponential – affording her the luxury of a furnished apartment in the Lower East Side that was the first place that ever felt like a true home for herself. And after years and years in foster care, she never thought she'd find that. She didn't take it for granted. But that didn't help the loneliness that always accompanied these parties, especially around the holidays.

"What is it this time, Ruby?" Emma asked with a chuckle. Ruby knew she was teasing, but Emma couldn't help but wonder if the edge in her tone was detectable. "I swear to god if you try to force some disgusting cocktail down my throat again, I won't speak to you for a week."

"Oh, c'mon. Neal is having everyone try this drink that's supposed to taste like a candy cane. We have to try it together!" Ruby bounced up and down, ignoring Emma's threats that she knew were just a front.

"What's in it? Rohypnol? Or just ketamine this time?" Emma muttered under her breath and rolled her eyes. She'd made her hatred for Neal abundantly clear, and yet – at every party – someone would encourage the two of them to get together. I guess that was the price she paid when they were the single ones in the friend group.

"He's pretty cute, and you know he likes you." Ruby sighed when she realized Emma wasn't going to cave and try the concoction in her glass.

"Oh, he's made that pretty clear." The recurring memory of the night when he had a little too much to drink mixed with god knows what drugs in his system burned in her mind: Neal's weight on top of her, his mouth inches from her own, when she woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom. Luckily, she woke before anything had happened. But the bad taste remained in her mouth permanently.

Ruby began to speak again but Emma didn't hear it. The rattling noise in her head was only growing, and it was accompanied by a pounding that she knew she wouldn't find any relief of while at this party.

"I'm actually gonna head out, okay? Say goodbye to Belle for me. Call me tomorrow and I can swing by if the two of you ever recover from the hangover you're both guaranteed to wake up with," Emma smiled apologetically. Ruby threw her arms around Emma's frame and squeezed her tight.

"Okay, but text me when you get home safely."

"Will do," Emma nodded as she fished her coat out of the mountain of jackets that were piled by the door.

The idea of sitting home alone in her empty apartment on Christmas Eve was even more unappealing than sitting alone at that party. But it wasn't until she was already getting on the subway to leave Tribeca that she realized that.

When they announced her stop, she didn't budge. Instead, she sat still for the second time this evening – not bothering to get off until nearly 30 minutes had passed.

Deciding some fresh air would do her some good, she exited the station and chose a direction to head in at random.

Even on Christmas Eve, New York City still had plenty to do. But nothing really caught her eye until the sight of a bar with nice string lights illuminating both the inside and the outside came into view.

"A beautiful girl alone on Christmas Eve in a bar?" The bartender smiled at her as she dropped down into the barstool. She frowned, wondering if she'd made a mistake coming here.

"Woman," she corrected. "And yes, it seems I am alone in a bar on Christmas Eve. Good eye." She didn't care that he would probably spit in her drink. She also didn't care if she was taking her resentment of the holiday out on this innocent young man.

Finally, she softened her smile – realizing she'd been harsh.

"But it sure as hell beats working the night shift at a bar on Christmas Eve, doesn't it?"

He smiled at her and asked what she was drinking tonight.

"Jack and Coke."

She was halfway into her drink when the chime over the doors alerted her that she wasn't the only person drinking alone in a bar on Christmas Eve. And when a woman dropped down in the seat beside her, Emma caught a whiff of her perfume. The subtle notes lingered, and Emma felt something inside of her turn warm.

Eager to tend to his only customers, the bartender headed back in their direction as Emma watched the woman unfasten the buttons of her peacoat.

"What can I get for you?"

Emma looked down at her drink when she felt the woman's eyes falling onto her.

"I'll have what she's having." A moment passed and Emma heard the woman's voice again, thanking the bartender. She took a sip from the glass and immediately coughed.

Emma turned her head, seeing that she'd taken a particularly large swallow of the whisky and was now grimacing.

"Rough night?" Emma asked.

"Well, that depends. Does being set up on a blind date for Christmas Eve by your mother when you're in your thirties constitute as a rough night?"

Emma offered an apologetic smile, but couldn't help but laugh. "Well, that depends. Was he a half decent man or was he a dick?"

"Does a half decent man even exist?" She scoffed and Emma nodded in agreement.

"Emma Swan," she said with a smile and an outstretched hand.

"Regina. Regina Mills." Regina ignored the hand and offered a smile as she reached for her drink instead.

"I guess I should be thanking you, Regina."

"What for? I don't suppose you're thanking me for critiquing your taste in liquor."

Emma laughed, and she realized it might have been her first genuine laugh of the night. "No. I was going to say thanks for showing up here. It would've been a pretty shitty night if I came all this way and just spent the end of my night alone on Christmas Eve."

"All this way? Hm, I would have pegged you for a local. New Jersey? Delaware? Don't tell me you're a tourist and this is where you chose to spend your time sightseeing?"

"Oh– no," Emma laughed again. "I was at a party in Tribeca. I have an apartment on Delancey Street. I just hopped on the subway and started walking and wound up here."

"Ah, so you left a party—that I presume was full of people—to come and drink alone. Either you're a loner or a sociopath."

"Are those my only options?" Emma lifted her drink to finish its contents and the bartender appeared in front of them a moment later.

"I'll take what she's having," Emma echoed Regina's earlier response to the bartender and he shifted his gaze from Emma to Regina, mildly amused.

"Blue Label, neat. Put them both on my tab."

"Well?" Regina asked with a slight smirk on her lips as her eyebrow lifted.

"Well, what?" Emma frowned, only realizing now that her hands were clammier than usual.

"Loner or sociopath, Miss Swan?"

The question wasn't meant to be a serious one, but Emma's hand jerked and she felt like she'd stutter if she tried to speak now. The bartender set their drinks down and disappeared, and Emma lifted the glass to her parted lips to calm her nerves.

"Loner, unfortunately." She was surprised by the calmness in her tone – a stark contrast to the acute panic rattling around inside of her. "I've never been a big fan of holidays."

She didn't want to divulge into her childhood and how many years she'd spent waiting around for Santa to show, only to end up falling asleep in front of the meager excuse for a tree and waking up to a hand-me-down gift or nothing at all. Instead, she came up with yet another reason why she hated this time of the year.

"All of my friends are in relationships, and these parties are starting to get old. I can only drink myself into oblivion for so long before my liver finally gives out on me."

It was Regina's turn to laugh. It was deeper than Emma had expected, and she wasn't sure why she felt her stomach muscles flutter.

"Sure, laugh all you'd like. But you're in the same boat right beside me, so what does that say about you?"

Regina pursed her lips, nodding and accepting defeat but refusing to ever say the words out loud.

"I suppose it means we both aren't very good at putting ourselves out there, hm?"

Emma nodded. "I'm not really the dating type. But it would be nice, for once, to have a date for a holiday just for the sake of not being alone."

With the slight tilt of her head, Regina studied Emma. She took her in properly for the first time – taking her time as her eyes drank in everything from the vibrant hue of her green eyes to the way her tight black top hugged her curves.

"It's fairly easy to find a date these days, or so I've heard. With all these dating apps – two of my employees met on Bumble and are getting married in a few weeks. I'm certain there are a bunch of young, respectable men who would want to go out with a beautiful woman. Even if it's just for one holiday."

Emma's eyes widened, unblinking as she took in Regina's words. She wasn't sure why they'd had such a nerve-racking effect on her until it dawned on her that she couldn't remember the last time someone had called her beautiful – much less a mysterious, stunning woman who was alone in a bar.

Finally, Emma opened her mouth when she realized Regina was waiting for a response.

"I just hate making small talk – I'm not very good at it."

Tracing the rim of the glass with one fingertip, Regina smiled and lifted her gaze.

"We're making small talk right now and you seem to be doing just fine, dear."

"Well, I'm also gay," Emma blurted out more awkwardly than she would have liked. "So that makes things a little harder."

Regina laughed softly, but Emma wasn't really sure why. Deciding to brush it off, she gripped the coolness of her glass just to have something to do with her now-fidgety hands.

"It's a big city. I'm confident you'd have women lining up to date you all the way from The Met to Brooklyn."

For someone like Emma Swan, who always thought of herself as a pretty independent woman, she never realized how badly she needed to hear a flattering comment like the one Regina had just said. Maybe it was because it was coming from a woman like Regina—anyone with eyes could tell that this woman must come from a wealthy upbringing and be in good social stature—but, for the first time, Emma actually believed the compliment. When she felt her cheeks flush, she shook her head softly.

"I think that's maybe the nicest compliment anyone has ever given me?" Emma didn't bother to thank her. Her tone spoke for itself. "But what about you? You seem smart and confident and successful from the looks of you. Why are you letting your mom set you up on dates when you could be out there getting them yourself without having to lift a finger?"

Regina didn't let the compliment go unnoticed, and she smiled.

"My relationship with my mother is—" she paused, dwelling over her words as she took a sip of her drink and swallowed. "Well, it's complicated. She never approves of anybody. And she likes to spend her time criticizing me for my success instead of being proud of me and my accomplishments."

Regina realized the irony – as it was her mother who always pushed her to be such a driven woman when she was growing up.

"She should be proud of you," Emma said simply. "I don't even know you and I'm already impressed. Let me guess… politics?" Emma paused and pressed a finger to her lip. "No, that's not it. Though you seem like you'd be good at it. Wall Street?"

Regina hummed. "Sort of. My company is primarily consulting work and handles all the marketing efforts of the corporations on Wall Street."

Emma hummed into her glass, not having to say out loud that she was impressed. "What do you do there?"

"Well, it's my company." Regina said with that familiar swell of pride again. This time, Emma dropped her glass onto the bar and turned her head.

"Oh."

"So, I'm sure you can realize why I don't have much time for dating."

This time, Emma interjected with more than a syllable.

"I know plenty of people who are busy and still have time for a relationship." Okay, that was a lie. She didn't know them personally. But there were plenty of successful people who still found love, surely?

"Maybe," Regina exhaled as she finished the contents of her drink and signaled for another round. "So what about you? You obviously have friends, so you're a pretty bad loner if I say so myself. But what do you do for work?"

"What? I can't just be a self-proclaimed loner full time?"

Regina laughed and Emma felt that weird unfamiliar sensation again.

"Mm, I suppose that's a possibility. But something tells me you wouldn't be able to afford living in Manhattan if that were the case. And since you already mentioned that you live in an apartment and not in an alleyway, I'm going to take a guess."

"Oh, now this I'd love to hear." Emma tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears and tilted her head. She watched as Regina's eyes followed the trail of her long, blonde curls falling down past her shoulder but wrote it off as just one stranger studying another.

"You strike me as a bit of the creative type. Especially living in LES – you're probably a part of some grunge, hip, new art scene." Emma didn't give her any clues and Regina quickly shook her head. "No, I've changed my mind. Maybe a job in publishing? Random House, perhaps?"

Emma finally caved and shook her head. "I'm a bail bondsman. Bondsperson."

Regina laughed, unashamed of the surprise that she was certain was written all over her face.

"Full of surprises, Miss Swan. Although that would have been my next guess."

This only made Emma laugh and she reached for her glass, feeling a pleasant buzz that accompanied the warmth she felt inside. For a moment, she'd completely forgotten about the horrible night she had earlier. As if being with Regina, alone in this bar, made up for every dull moment she'd spent alone the rest of the evening.

"Well, it's no wonder you don't like to date. You probably spend the majority of your day having to interact with defendants and criminal attorneys."

Emma nodded, not bothering to correct Regina. Truthfully, she didn't trust herself, or others, enough to ever open up. Something that you were required to do while dating.

A comfortable silence fell over them as they both took a sip of their drinks. Emma was the first to break the silence.

"I'm surprised there's not some app by now that matches you with a random, decent stranger to be your date strictly for holidays. No strings attached. Hell, no friendship attached."

Emma laughed at the words as they came out of her mouth, but froze when she realized Regina was studying her earnestly.

"Perhaps that's not such a ridiculous idea," Regina finally spoke. "What would be the terms of this–" she paused and then laughed as she continued. "-holiday date?"

Emma raised an eyebrow, pressing her fingertips against the weight of her neck as she studied Regina.

"I was joking, Regina."

"I know. But what if I said I'd be willing to take part in this arrangement?"

Emma rolled her shoulders back, sitting up straighter with her eyes wide when she realized Regina was serious.

"You– you like women?"

"What? Is it so hard to believe? Or is it just that you wouldn't want to be seen with a woman like me? Maybe I'm not your type? I mean–" she paused, realizing she was rambling more than she'd ever liked to. "–I thought the whole point was that we wouldn't have to sleep together. Or even be friends."

Emma shook her head quickly. "No, no. It's not that. I mean, you're probably the most attractive woman I've ever seen." Emma's bluntness was met with a soft smile from Regina. She panicked and backpedaled. "But how do I know you're not the one who's a sociopath?"

Regina smirked, and Emma's panic only intensified. It was one thing for a woman who looked like Regina to flirt with her, but this was something else.

"Guess you'll just have to take a chance and find out for yourself."

This made Emma laugh, though she wasn't sure why.

"What if we both just had way too much to drink tonight? Maybe we'll agree and then wake up and realize it's somehow even more ridiculous than it already sounds now?"

"You worry too much," Regina dismissed all of Emma's worries with just four short words and they both smiled. "The worst that happens is we both have plans for New Year's Eve and if we end up hating each other, then we never have to see each other again."

Emma pretended like she was mulling it over, but she knew Regina was right. She pulled her phone out of her bag and handed it to Regina.

"Is this is how you obtain a woman's number? It seems I can see why you're single, after all."

"Shut up," Emma laughed as she watched Regina clutch the phone and type in her name and number. Regina handed the phone back and Emma sent her a text. "Now you have mine as well. So how do we plan to do this?"

"Simple," Regina said. "We coordinate plans for New Year's Eve as it gets closer and then we go together for the sake of having company." She finished the last of her drink and closed the tab.

"Honestly, that sounds perfect." Emma's smile only made Regina smile as they stood. Emma couldn't help but watch while Regina bundled up in her scarf and coat.

"Then we have a deal." She reached out her hand this time, and Emma shook it and laughed. "I'll see you next week. Get home safely, Miss Swan."

Emma watched Regina disappear into the darkness of the night. Smiling down at her empty glass, she pulled her arm through the sleeve of her jacket and realized this night hadn't been so bad after all.