She's a creature of habit, does the exact same thing every workday: wakes up, works out and makes herself look nice, then she wakes her grumpy son, makes them breakfast, takes him to the bus stop and tells him to have a good day before getting in the car for the ten minutes it takes her to get to her office. She arrives between 7:25 and 7:30 every day and usually gets in the elevator on her own, but not today.

No, today there is a handsome man (well, from what she can see anyway) standing there in a tailored, dark blue suit pressing the up button. He doesn't have to wait long at all for the elevator—you never do at this hour—and she finds herself asking, "Hold the door, please," as she enters, even though she could have easily gotten the next one.

She's intrigued by him, which is silly, because she's only seen the back view, which is quite nice, and she wants to know if his front matches his back. She wonders what he's doing here, if he just started or if he's worked here for years and she's never seen him, or if he's on a one-off visit.

"Not a problem," he says in a lovely British accent, as his arm shoots out to hold the door.

She smiles at him as she steps in with a thank you, her eyes lingering on him for longer than necessary, but my, is he ever attractive. Sandy hair and deep blue eyes, a bit of scruff and an endearing smile that widens to show off dimples that should be illegal on someone this good-looking, the fact that he's so well dressed only adds to the overall effect. It's rare she's this struck just by someone's looks, but it has happened before, though not in a long time. He's probably an asshole, the ones she's this attracted to right off the bat always are, but he did hold the door, so he can't be a complete jerk.

She presses the number six, and he reaches across her to hit eight, the future home to a new addictions organization she can't for the life of her remember the name of—there's a pamphlet for it sitting on her desk right now. She could ask, but then is it weird to chat with him in the elevator? She usually hates when people do that to her, so perhaps she should just admire silently. If he is involved in the organization like she suspects, their paths will cross again.

He catches her looking and smiles at her, flashing those gorgeous dimples again, and she looks down, willing her cheeks not to flush as she pretends she wasn't just staring at him.

"I'm Robin," he tells her, extending his hand out, and she shuffles her jacket onto her arm so she can grasp his hand.

"Regina Mills," she says, during the firm handshake, wishing she could remember the damn name of the place on eight so she could ask what he does there.

"You're on six, that's the sexual assault centre, right?" She nods right as the doors open to their entry and confirm it. She steps out as he offers, "Well, it was lovely to meet you, Regina."

"Likewise," she tells him with a smile, a stupid little wave as the doors shut. Though she'll probably never run into him again, she scours her desk for that pamphlet and commits the name No Shame to memory.

As she prepares for the appointments she has today, her mind flits to the handsome elevator man, Robin, more than once before she forces herself to focus. She has work to do, has one of her hardest cases today, a client who has had such an incredibly traumatic life, who has slowly begun opening herself up. Regina's heart aches for her every time she reveals a little more of her history, it's hard to fathom living through it all, but she's a survivor, like everyone who comes through these doors. Regina knows many people think she's a hard ass, cold and seemingly detached, and she is in most instances but she has compassion and she genuinely cares about her clients. Her cool, nothing fazes her demeanour and her dark, dry humour are just part of what allows her to do what she does.

Growing up, Regina never wanted to be a therapist, never once considered it, but a series of events in her freshman year of college changed her life, leading her down a path to what she now knows she was meant to do.

It's hard work, and she gets frustrated, and disheartened, feels the weight of her client's traumas and burdens so heavily sometimes she wants to scream. Everyone has their own way of dealing with it. For her, it's a walk down the street with blared music, watching old clips of her son being silly, or a quick meditation. She's pretty good at shaking it off, but occasionally something will hit hard and she will find herself struggling even with her normal tools. Desensitized is not quite the right word for her normal state because she does care—you have to to do the job well—but the shock and horror of the suffering humans can inflict on each other doesn't affect her in the same way it did when she started out. Even then, she was never one to end up crying over the unfairness of it, no, when it gets to her, she gets mad, fucking livid, and her coworkers know to stay the hell away from her when she's like that. She's snapped at more than one of them before on a bad day.

Today turns out to be one of those days. She knew it was going to be a hard day as scheduled, but they'd also had someone in crisis, and she ended up working through with no break. By the end of the day, she is ready to scream, has that lingering anxious feeling in her belly she can't get rid of from a day of too much. Too much tragedy, too many breakdowns, and too little time between. She desperately needs a break, more than a few minutes to regroup, but that wasn't in the cards. As a result she has a short fuse and is seconds away from blowing up on anyone who gets in her path, which is not conducive to the plans she was supposed to have.

Tonight was supposed to be dinner with her best friend, Mary Margaret, to go over the guestlist for her wedding now that the RSVP deadline is over, but she can't, not tonight, not when she's feeling like this. All it takes is a simple text and the meeting is rescheduled to Wednesday like it's no bother. She's grateful her friend is so accommodating, and it takes a little of the edge off of the rage that's threatening to swallow her.

She gets into the elevator alone, and sighs out into the empty space, trying to expel all of the negativity and tension. When she exits, she sees Robin again. He looks at her sheepishly as they trade places, admitting that he forgot his keys upstairs. If she was in a better mood she'd tease him for it, but as is, she gives a little laugh and walks off to her car.

By the time Henry gets home from his swim lessons she's feeling a lot better, the last of the dark clouds disappearing as her son regales her with a dramatic tale of his day.

She meets with Mary Margaret on Wednesday and she thanks god she cancelled on Monday when Mary drops a bombshell right at the start of dinner.

"I don't know how to tell you this, but my father invited your mother as his plus one. God, I know it's, shoot, don't worry, I can uninvite her, it's not a problem. You know I should have just done that, I'm sorry I didn't, I don't know what I was even thinking, I just wanted to talk to you about it first. Shit, I'm sorry, Regina. I should just uninvite her, right? Yeah that's what should happen, shouldn't it?"

Regina hasn't seen her mother in ten years, not since her mother scolded her in front of everyone at her husband's funeral, telling her to pull herself together as if her world hadn't just been shattered.

That had been the last straw. After years and years of abuse, Regina had snapped, finally doing as her late husband had always wanted and cut her mother out of her life. It had been a long time coming, but Cora treated it like it was temporary, just her daughter's grief-stricken hysterics. It took a year of ignoring Cora's summons for her to get the picture, even then, to this day, she still gets random voicemails reminding her what a terrible daughter she is, demanding that she apologize. She should have changed her number but she's weak and sentimental and wanted to keep the landline number she'd shared with Daniel. Henry's asked why they even have a landline, and in truth, they probably don't need it, but she can't seem to let go of that connection to Daniel (and her mother, but she'd never admit that).

Though apparently it's not the last connection to her mother. She thought every other connection had been severed, she doesn't live in Storybrooke anymore, doesn't even live in the same state—not that she's all that far away—but she also has no contact with anyone from their sleepy little town, except Mary Margaret. She and Mary are childhood friends, moved out to Boston together for college and never left. She knows her mother and Mary's father run in the same circles, and given that he's extremely wealthy and was single, it's not surprising to her that her mother made a move. She should have seen this coming.

But god, why did it have to be Mary's father and why now? Couldn't she have waited until after the wedding so Regina didn't have to see her? She's the maid of honour, but even if she weren't, she would not miss her friend's wedding, no way. Her mother has stolen enough experiences from her, she will not take this too. The easy solution is to uninvite her mother, but there are no simple solutions when it comes to Cora Mills. She'd probably still show up—she wouldn't, not if it got out she wasn't invited—but god, she would make such a big stink, would ensure everyone heard about it, then they would all know Regina can't handle her mother. She should not care about that at all, but she does, because deep down, no matter how much she fights it, she is her mother's child. Certain expectations were indoctrinated into her so hard she doesn't think she'll ever be able to shake them.

Ugh, Cora never even liked Mary Margaret, used to tell Regina all the time that Mary wasn't worth her time, so why does she feel the need to attend her wedding? She knows the answer to that, it's 'for her,' it's that she 'wants to see her daughter,' which is complete bullshit because she doesn't want to see her, she wants to criticize every aspect of her life until Regina feels about an inch tall. She's been through that time and time again, but she's been free of it for almost a decade, isn't accustomed to it like she used to be.

Fuck, this is a disaster.

"Regina," Mary asks tentatively, interrupting her thoughts, "What do you want me to do? You want me to uninvite her, right?"

That is the question, isn't it? It's only a week away, maybe it would be okay. She's not bringing Henry, she didn't want to pull him out of school so he's spending the time with his other (only) grandparents. She will protect her son from her mother if it is the last thing she does. Herself however…

She admits ruefully, "I don't know," and tries to ignore the sympathy that wells in Mary's eyes.

"You don't have to decide right now, just let me know, okay?"

That may be true, but the wedding is only six weeks away, and it's a destination wedding, in Portugal, her flight leaves in just under five weeks, she could bet her mother and Leopold's flights and accommodations are already booked.

They let the issue of her mother rest, as best they can. They talk details for a bit, setting the tables for the reception with the guest list as is, throwing in a couple of extra seats here and there just in case, she doesn't know that there will be anyone that last-minute says they are coming because it's abroad but one can never be too careful—and all the while Regina stresses about her mother. She will pick, will poke all of her weak spots (she created them all so she knows just how to hit where it hurts) and leave Regina feeling wrecked. It's not at all what she wants for her friend's wedding, for what was supposed to be a nice week away.

She has one concern though, which she voices once they've covered all the things on their list, "Will it upset your father?"

Mary Margaret loves her father dearly, and though he's always doted on her, he's not a good father. Mary sees the best in him, or tries to, but Regina knows she was at one point worried he wouldn't come. He didn't want to travel, which was ridiculous because the location is gorgeous and more importantly, his only child is getting married. She doesn't understand how he could even think for one minute about not attending.

"I… I don't know."

Then she asks another question that's been eating at her, even though she shouldn't be interested, shouldn't care at all about what goes on in the life of Cora Mills, "How long have they been together?"

It's not meant to be an accusation but Mary flushes a little as she admits, "About six months, he only told me about a month ago, and I didn't put two and two together until I started going through the RSVPs and… I wanted to tell you in person. I hope that's okay, god I'm—"

She places her hand over Mary Margaret's, stopping the anxious rambling she knows could go on forever if she let it, and smiles as she assures, "It's more than okay, I really appreciate the consideration for my feelings. You're a great friend, truly."

Her face lights up, her eyes watering, and oh no, look what Regina has started. To her relief, Mary doesn't go all sappy, just says, "Thank you."

She lets out a long sigh as she tries to think out what to do here. She's been given time but she needs to make a decision. This needs to be figured out, she cannot have it looming over her head. She knows her mother will not take kindly to being uninvited, but the real question is whether Leopold will come without her. She has a feeling he won't and she will not let her unresolved mommy-issues come in the way of Mary having her father at the wedding. "I want you to have your father there, and if my mother is necessary to make that happen, then so be it. We'll make it work."

"Are you sure?"

"I am, though I'm really hoping he says it's not a problem and she's not coming."

"Me too, I'll see what I can do and let you know."

It's getting late and she should go pick up her son, so she bids her friend goodbye and hopes to god her mother isn't coming to the wedding.

Luck turns out not to be on her side as she steps into the office building on Friday. She gets a text from Snow White, the contact name she has set for Mary Margaret to make fun of her cheery disposition. It reads: I'm so sorry. I tried but he won't come without her

Her stomach drops and she keeps staring down at the words like somehow they will change, so caught up she doesn't notice her surroundings until she runs smack into Robin.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," she stutters out as she looks up to find him smiling down at her and wow.

He's in grey today, which is definitely his colour, it brings out the blue in those eyes she's rather fond of. She's momentarily distracted as he tells her, "It's okay, no harm done."

She's still standing far too close to him, not as close as when she collided with him, but closer than she's ever been before. There's something intoxicating about being this close and she's almost sad when the elevator door opens and the moment is broken. After they step inside he hits both six and eight—he's only been in the elevator with her twice, and someone else wouldn't have remembered where she was going, but he did, and she finds it oddly touching. He might just be observant, but perhaps he's intrigued by her as well.

It's only when her phone vibrates again she remembers what had her in such a state she ran into Robin. It all rushes back, and fuck, she is a goddamn therapist but the thought of seeing her mother has her pulse racing, throat constricting and palms going sweaty. She of all people should be able to keep it together, but she can't.

Her sudden change in mood must be obvious because Robin asks, "Are you okay?" and she nods though it's not true.

He doesn't let it go like he should, asks if she's sure about that and no, she's not, but she's saved by the elevator door opening. She says, "Really, I'm fine," with her eyes looking out and not at him, as she walks out, rushing off to her office without ever looking back.

She's in no state to do her work, so as soon as she's in her office she begins a meditation, annoyed by the thoughts of her mother that won't stop popping up. Eventually, she is able to keep the thoughts at bay, to enter a true meditation, and she soaks in the serenity of it until it's time to see her first client.

Somehow, she manages to cross paths with Robin again as she's heading out to grab lunch from Granny's, a cute little diner across the street. The elevator opens to him and a couple others going down, and they smile at each other but say nothing.

She's content to walk away, but Robin calls out to her, a hand landing gently on her arm, but not holding her, "Wait, um, I'm sorry to pry and do feel free to tell me to shove it, but are you alright?"

She turns to him and nods subtly. She's not sure if he missed it or he's just pressing on, "This morning, you seemed rather upset… I do hope whatever was troubling you has been resolved."

If only. While that's sweet of him to inquire, the mention of it has her gut twisting, which she ignores in favour of a terse, "No, but it will in time."

He lets it go, thank god, changing the subject by asking, "Can I bother you with another question then?" She nods, "Where's a good lunch spot around here? I've been terribly lazy when it comes to packing my lunch."

They are in a good neighbourhood for that, and she tells him as much, gives him details about some of the better spots, where to get the best sushi within walking distance, best pad thai, best salad, best burger, before confessing that her all time favourite place is Granny's diner. The food isn't that spectacular, not that it's bad, it's just solidly good, not great, but it's the atmosphere that attracts her, has her coming back again and again.

He asks if that's where she was headed and when she confirms so, he seeks and is granted her permission to accompany her over. In their quick walk across the street and over one, she learns that he's doesn't just work for No Shame, he's the founder, something that leads her to have more questions for him, which go unanswered once they enter because she pre-ordered take out and he's dining in.

Granny watches them enter, eyeing over Robin with an arched brow and a smug look. Regina shakes her head as she grabs the bag, knowing Granny is biting back a comment she'll hear about the next time she comes in. Granny has the wrong idea though, well, sort of, and she knows she'll be pressed for details she can't provide, and that Robin is about to get grilled and sussed out by the older woman.

Robin takes a seat on one of the stools to peruse the menu, while she settles up, and she's half tempted to sit down beside him and eat her meal there, but he's a near stranger and inviting herself to eat with him is definitely a step too far. So instead she bids him goodbye as he promises to let her know what he thinks of her recommendation.

If she's smiling as she exits at the thought of seeing him again so he can report that to her, well, she's allowed. She will use whatever tools are at her disposal to distract her from the shit show that's coming.

Henry has a sleepover on Saturday night, and she can't be alone with her thoughts anymore, so she goes out for a drink with her coworker, Mal, and her friends. Mal is by far her closest coworker, but she wouldn't say that they are close. They rarely hang out outside of the office unless it's for an after work drink to bitch. Mal has a much more active and exciting social life, while Regina has a son to take care of. Mal likes to let loose, which she often suggests would do Regina a world of good. Though she's never really agreed, having suffered for two days after attending Mal's thirty-fifth birthday four years ago, she accepted tonight's invitation thinking this time loosening up with Mal and her friends may be exactly what she needs.

They are joined by Mal's friends, Ursula and Cruella. She's only met them a couple of times, but each meeting with Cruella was memorable. God, can that woman ever drink, even more so than Mal. So it's perhaps not a surprise that by eleven thirty she is quite drunk, having had round after round of free Martinis from men Cruella chats up for the sole purpose of getting a free drink.

The alcohol loosens her tongue, has her laughing and joining in on scoping out the bars other patrons. They create elaborate backstories for the men and women sitting alone at the bar, take bets on who will go home with each other, with Mal claiming the silver fox they've decided is a recent divorcee on the prowl for herself, making them all laugh and egg her on.

It's a good night, she's having a lot of fun, and this is how her vacation was supposed to go, drinking and laughing with friends, not being torn down by her bitch of a mother. But she's not thinking about that tonight, tonight is to have fun.

To keep it that way, she urges Mal to go over and chat up the silver fox. Mal slips her hair over shoulder, winks at the group and strides over like she owns the room. Regina has never seen someone ooze as much confidence as Mal does, and she wishes she had a bit more of that. Professionally she can dominate a room, and she used to be a bold and audacious flirt, but she's so out of practice she wouldn't even know where to start.

She grins as Mal saddles up beside the guy, her hand touching his arm as she leans in close.

"Well darling, we've lost Mal for the night," Cruella says as the man smiles and gestures for Mal to take the stool beside him. "Such a pity."

It's way past her usual bedtime, and she briefly considers going home, but then Cruella snags another lonely man and a new drink appears in front of her. Maybe she'll go after this one…

She doesn't, ends up going out dancing with Cruella after Ursula bows out. They are at a salsa club and she loves it. Cruella's skills are limited, but Regina has years of training under her belt and muscle memory starts to kick in around the second song. She's flushed, breathless and sweaty as they take a break to grab a drink, a water for her this time. They take a spot at the bar to rest, and she giggles as the two men they were dancing with try to get them to come back to their hotel room, which is not happening.

"We have to do this again," Cruella drawls and she nods in agreement. "Darling, I don't know where you've been hiding those hips, but you need to show of those moves more often. It's a crime to keep that skill all locked up."

She laughs, revealing, "I haven't danced in years, I think the last time was when I went to Spain with a friend after her engagement to a complete jerk ended and she was convinced she was going to end up as an old maid."

"Did she?"

"Did she what?"

"End up as an old maid? It's not a bad life."

She snickers, "Well, one, she's a year younger than I am and I would not consider myself old enough for spinsterhood, and also she's getting married June fifth."

"Hate to break it to ya, darling, but you are too old for a spinster, over twenty-six is a thornback."

"What the hell is a thornback?"

Cruella shrugs, "Who knows? I read it somewhere, but who wants to be tied down, anyway? I can have sex with whomever I want, can kick anyone who snores out of my bed. I have my own space, any messes are mine and no one is judging me for them. I honestly don't know how people get married, I need my alone time. Too much time with other people drives me insane."

"I loved being married, though there were some little annoyances you have to live with. My husband never ever put his laundry away, it drove me bananas. How hard is it to put the dirty clothes in the hamper? My god."

Cruella eyes her curiously, "You're a divorcée?"

"Widow, actually."

"Well, that's shit, isn't it?"

She nods, "Yeah, it was a long time ago but yes, it's shit."

"So, who are you picking up at this wedding?"

She snorts, Cruella's comment having the desired effect of breaking the mood. "God, no one. Unless there's someone random from the resort, but that's not really my style."

Well, except that one time, but she tries to black that out.

"Oh, Resort? Destination wedding?"

"Mm-hmm," she confirms with a nod. "Faro, Portugal."

"Ooh, nice. Any chance you need a plus one? I'm sure I could get myself a great deal."

That's probably true because Cruella's a travel agent, but, "Sorry to disappoint, but no. Though, god, if I had a plus one that might get my mother off of my back."

"How so?"

She ends up telling an abridged version of her tumultuous relationship with her mother and Cruella offers up her brother as an option when it becomes clear bringing a woman would only add to her mother's ire.

"Seriously, he's rich, decent looking, he's a bit of a jerk but can schmooze well."

"Sounds like my mother would love him," she remarks dryly, which doesn't deter Cruella, and somehow she's answering how long she's there for, giving her complete itinerary and agreeing Cruella can ask her brother if he wants to go. It's outrageous, but Cruella makes it sound so easy and it really would take a lot of the pressure off of her. Cora would want to know all about the man in her life, would direct her criticism at him—and by extension Regina, but she doesn't know or care about Isaac so it wouldn't hurt like her mother's criticism of Daniel had.

It's a pretty foolproof plan, one that they flesh out as they split a cab home, so much so that she texts Mary Margaret at three am asking if she can bring a guest. As she collapses into her bed she revels in the brilliance of this solution.

She wakes up to a friend request from Isaac Heller and she goes to delete it because she doesn't know an Isaac, then it hits her.

Good god, that was a stupid idea, and how desperate must he think she is? It's super embarrassing, and she only accepts his friend request so she can message him and let him know she will not be needing his help.

She opens his profile to do just that and stops dead in her tracks when she realizes he is wearing a Make America Great Again shirt in his profile picture. Fuck no! How on earth did Cruella think that would be acceptable to her? She starts going through his profile, growing more enraged the more she scrolls. He is the epitome of white male privilege, entitled and ignorant, oh and also a fucking racist. She has to close his profile before she loses her mind. What the fuck is wrong with Cruella?

She doesn't give a shit that Cruella's probably not up yet and calls her. It takes two calls for her to answer and her only justification is, "I told you he was an asshole," which is true but she neglected to mention some key points. After she reams her out for a bit, Cruella says, "Whatever, I owe ya one," and hangs up.

Well, she certainly dodged a bullet there. What a stupid idea that was, she can't bring a fake to the wedding, that's ridiculous.

Of course Mary Margaret doesn't see it that way, had answered her text asking if she could bring someone with a vehement yes and declaration of what a great plan that was.

Mary Margaret probably thinks that it's the start of some epic romance, has been a fan of unconventional beginnings since she met David, in Regina's hotel room. Mary Margaret had taken one look at him and decided it didn't matter that her best friend had clearly slept with him the night before, she wanted him.

In the start, Regina didn't think it would work out, they'd all met in Mexico but he lived and worked in New York. He and Mary flirted the rest of the trip but didn't even kiss—the lingering awkwardness of you fucked my best friend in last five days effectively put the brakes on any sort of physical affection. They did keep in touch, growing closer and closer, only seeing each other once when Mary went up for a weekend. By then, he had a girlfriend, and Mary was devastated when he got engaged to Kathryn two years later.

She told Regina she was in love with him, and that he was going to be the one that got away, and though it wasn't the best for poor Kathryn, she convinced Mary Margaret to tell him how she felt—and they've been together ever since.

But a fake date is not how Regina is going to find her next partner, and she rejects all of Mary's suggestions of who she could bring. The whole idea is nonsensical, but she can't seem to get Mary Margaret to realize that.

Even if she was considering it, all of David's friends are a hard pass, as are all the other suggestions Mary gives her.

The guy would have to be rich, handsome, in a good job, also known as having every reason not to attend a random wedding with a woman they barely or don't know. The type of men who would jump at a free trip to Portugal are not the kind of men that would impress her mother.

She's not doing it anyway so should put the idea to bed, despite Mary Margaret's enthusiasm. It's silly, the kind of thing you only agree to when you are drunk and not something to be actually considered.

It takes a while, but she finally gets Mary Margaret to give up on it, or so she thinks.

She sees Robin on her way into the building on Monday. Now he is the kind of man her mother would love, minus that his charity does work with addicts, of course.

He must hear her coming and recognize her footfalls because he holds the door without asking, and when she steps in six is already pressed.

"Good Morning, Regina," he greets, and she smiles as she offers a good morning of her own.

"Did you have a good weekend?" he asks, and she snickers as she thinks over that absurd plan she and Cruella drunkenly came up with.

"It was certainly something," is how she answers.

"Now that sounds like there's a story there." There is, but the elevator door opens and he sighs, "Well, guess that's that, maybe I'll catch you at lunch."

While that would be nice, she shakes her head, stepping out slightly to keep the door open, "I'm out after eleven actually. I'm supporting a client through a police investigation."

"Oh, well, good luck with that."

"Thanks, I'll need it." She smiles, bids him a good day and steps out, letting the door shut behind her.

He really would be the perfect guy if she was doing that, but she's not. It would ruin any shot she had with him; he'd think she's insane, and rightly so because it is an insane idea. Why is she even considering it? She dismissed it already, she needs to stop thinking about it.

But she doesn't, and on her way back, she thinks over how her client detailed to the police, all of the horrific, abusive things their ex said to them, which morphs into all the things her mother will say to her, and how much easier it would be with a buffer—a handsome man to distract her mother.

It is crazy, but dealing with her requires thinking outside of the box. It's not like he would ever say yes, no one in their right mind would say yes to that—case in point, Isaac Heller. Maybe if she humiliates herself with Robin she can let this go and start figuring out something else to make her mother's presence at the wedding less hellish.

Yes, she's seen Robin off and on in the elevator, but surely he'd avoid being alone with her after that, solving any awkwardness. If not, she could vary her routine a bit, could linger a little longer at home, have the cup coffee she has to procrastinate starting work at home instead of at the office, and start working as soon as she arrives. It's a bad habit she should break anyway. She was so used to waiting the five minutes for the pot to brew that when they got the Keurig, she started dawdling in the kitchen to avoid starting.

She's not going to ask him, that's crazy. Oh, and look at her using derogatory ableist language in her thoughts. How many crazies and insanes have popped into her thoughts today? They aren't terms she ever uses in her day to day life, no, but apparently she uses them to berate herself with, like that's somehow better. It's not, not at all, it's her goddamn mother in her head again influencing how she thinks, it's from all those times she told Regina she was acting insane, that she was crazy. She knows better than to indulge it. At the very least, if she's going to pick herself apart, she can use better language.

God, she's already thinking erratically, she doesn't need to add acting erratically into the mix. She's not going to ask him, she's not.

Then she does.