Chapter Eighteen

Regina stood in front of her full length mirror, scrutinizing the fifth outfit she'd put on that night. Nothing felt quite right for a date with Emma Swan, but she'd finally opted for a form-fitting, deep red dress that ended mid-thigh and revealed just enough cleavage to be enticing without being trashy. She added sheer charcoal nylons and black pumps, and she knew her make-up was flawless, and yet she couldn't help looking at herself with an air of self-consciousness.

She tried to tell herself that she was being ridiculous. If there was one sure thing in life, it was that Emma would always want her.

Or, at least there was a time when she believed that to be true.

As of late, she wasn't so sure exactly what - or rather who - Emma really wanted anymore. She wasn't young and naive anymore and Regina wondered if perhaps Emma wasn't quite as enthralled with her as she once was. Afterall, Regina had gone to great lengths to push Emma out of her life, for a long time.

As much as she didn't want Emma around, what she really didn't want was Emma here, in her town, getting close to Graham. She didn't particularly care what Graham did in his free time, so long as what he was doing wasn't Emma.

She had to shake her head at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. She shouldn't be going out on a date with the savior, and yet here she was, getting ready for her date, all because it was eating her up inside to think that Emma would be with anyone else but her.

Of course, she knew that Emma had been with plenty of other people, but that was always when Regina wasn't around to have to watch it happen. It was just like the effect the redhead in the bar had had on her all those years ago, and Regina was beginning to realize she didn't just want Emma, she wanted Emma all to herself.

And Regina was quite used to getting what she wanted.

"You're making a mistake," she whispered to herself. And she knew it was true. There was not a single way this could work out, in the long run. She was walking headfirst into a disaster just waiting to happen. Either, Emma found out the truth and hated her for it, or else she allowed Emma to live a lie for the rest of her life, just like everyone else she cursed.

Could she really live with herself allowing Emma to be roommates with her biological mother, and never let her know the truth?

Then again, could she go on at all if Emma learned the truth, and never wanted to see her again? What if she took Henry away? Regina knew she stood to lose everything right now, but still, all she could think about was being with Emma again.

This girl had had her enraptured since their first night together, and Regina was worried about how much of that pull to be near Emma was fate making sure they remained on a collision course. If it was fate, however, then why would Regina still want her now? It didn't make sense, and Regina was sure there was more at play here than just fate.

Regina sighed. It was nearly six o'clock, and if she knew one thing for sure, it was that Emma would never be late to meet her again. She'd made sure of that years ago. It was too late to change again, so this was what she was going to have to go with.

She headed down to her foyer to wait for Emma, and, like clockwork, her doorbell rang at precisely six o'clock. She opened it to reveal Emma, standing with an awkward smile, in a short black shirt, a white tank top and her red leather jacket.

Regina swallowed hard, unable to even return Emma's smile as she grabbed her by her jacket and pulled her into the house.

"Fuck dinner," Regina muttered, as she pushed Emma up against the wall and pressed her lips down hard on the blonde's, catching Emma's surprised gasp in her eager mouth.

To her surprise, though, Emma pushed her off of her, with a cheeky grin. "Uh uh. You promised me a date and we're going on a date," she reminded her.

Regina rolled her eyes. "Fine. Let's go."

"How romantic," Emma laughed, as she followed Regina out the door towards her Mercedes.

"Don't test me, Miss Swan," Regina said, curtly. "Remember it's my decision if there will be another date after this one."

"How could I forget?" Emma asked. This time it was her who rolled her eyes. How could she ever forget who called all the shots on any encounter the two of them had ever had?

Emma sat silently as Regina drove her to the fanciest restaurant Storybrooke had, smiling to herself at the fact that this was even happening at all. All she had wanted from the time she'd met Regina at seventeen, was to go on a normal date and have a chance at a normal relationship with the woman.

It had seemed entirely impossible then. In fact, Regina had made damn sure that Emma knew it was impossible then. But now… well, now it felt like it was entirely within her reach. If only Regina would let her walls down, just a little.

They sat and made small talk at the table once Regina had put in their wine order. Emma talked about her day at the station alone, and Regina talked about Henry - which Emma found strange, since Regina had been quite adamant that she didn't want Emma in Henry's life, period. But she enjoyed it, nonetheless.

"This isn't us, you know," Regina pointed out, once the wine had arrived and they'd placed their dinner orders.

"There isn't an 'us'," Emma reminded her, as she took a sip of wine. She didn't know wine well, but Regina had picked a good one, as far as she could tell.

"No. But this isn't what we do," Regina insisted.

"We've had dinner together before."

Regina sighed and rolled her eyes, feeling slightly exasperated. Why had she thought this was a good idea?

"Look, Regina, I know this is kind of awkward given our… history. But that was a long time ago. I'm not that same girl anymore," Emma conceded. It was fairly obvious that Regina was uncomfortable and way out of her element, and Emma knew as well as she did that the last time they'd had dinner together was nothing like this. That wasn't a date; it was just a prelude to the sex they both knew they would be having that evening.

"You may not be, but I can assure you that I haven't changed," Regina insisted.

"Maybe I'm okay with that."

"You're not. Emma, I already know you're not going to be happy with an ongoing casual relationship with me. You're going to want more. You already want more."

"How about… for once, you just let me decide what I want for myself?" Emma suggested.

"And what do you want?"

"Right now? I just want to enjoy a nice dinner with a beautiful woman, okay? And maybe when we're done here, I want to go home with you. And I don't want to sneak out your bedroom window afterwards."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "And how would you like me to explain your presence to my son in the morning?"

"Maybe I want to tell Henry that my car wouldn't start and I had no choice but to spend the night… in your guest room. He's a ten year old kid. He won't figure it out."

"He's smarter than you give him credit for."

Emma shrugged. "He's a kid who still believes fairy tales are real."

Regina stiffened at that comment. Fairy tales. Right. For a moment she's almost forgotten who she was dealing with here.

"Sorry," Emma said, quietly. "I didn't mean anything by that."

Regina shook her head, realizing that Emma was mistaking her sudden change in body language as taking offense to her comment about Henry. "It's fine. Let's just have dinner, alright?"

Emma bit her lip and studied Regina's rigid stance. It was clearly not fine, and Emma already knew she was walking a dangerous line. "I probably still believed in fairy tales when I was ten," Emma said, though she was quite sure that wasn't true.

Regina raised an eyebrow. "Probably?"

Emma shrugged. "I mean, I don't know… At ten I still believed my parents would come and find me, even though I knew they ditched me on the side of the road. Maybe I didn't believe, but maybe I still wanted to? I mean, if fairy tales are real then we all get happy endings, right?"

"Not everyone," Regina muttered, looking down at her plate.

"Isn't that how it's supposed to work?"

"Can we not talk about fairy tales?" Regina snapped, suddenly, taking Emma by surprise.

"Um, yeah. Okay. What should we talk about then?"

"This was a bad idea."

"Regina, please don't say that. It's awkward but it will get better," Emma insisted.

"I don't think so."

"You're right," Emma said, decisively, putting her fork down on her plate for emphasis. "This was a bad idea."

"It was your idea," Regina pointed out.

"Yeah, well, suddenly I like your idea a lot better."

"And what idea was that?" Regina asked, genuinely confused.

"The one that had me pinned up against the wall at your house," Emma said, with a wink.

In spite of everything, Regina couldn't help but smile. Still, she shook her head. "It's not what you want, Emma. Trust me. We've been down this road before."

"We have and we haven't," Emma replied with a shrug. "But all I know is we get along a lot better when we're sleeping together. You're right: this isn't us. And maybe I haven't changed as much as I thought. I didn't mean it when I said… what I said that night…"

"When you said you loved me?" Regina asked, but this time without any malice in her voice.

"Yeah. That. But we did have a connection, and even you can't deny that. Maybe we still have it," Emma suggested.

Regina nodded, taking it all in. "I guess there's only one way to know," she acknowledged. Her common sense was screaming at her to stop this now, and that if a date with the savior was a bad idea, then sleeping with the savior was a million times worse.

But suddenly, Regina didn't care.

For eleven years, she had never been able to get Emma out of her head, and it was quite clear that Emma had no intention of voluntarily leaving her life.

She knew there was so way this could end well, but she was also well aware that something beyond her control and understanding had put it all into motion in the first place.

And maybe it was time to stop fighting back and just give in.