It went on like that for weeks. Emma would stop by the hospital with some coffee and something to eat. They would talk to each other for a good hour. The coffee would be downed, refilled with hospital coffee, and the food untouched. They would talk politely for a while, then move onto Henry, and Emma would leave when the hour had passed to go on with her day.

The going on part was the hardest.

It seemed that, with every visit, it became harder to focus on every day events. She found her thoughts drifting back onto Henry and, to more of an extent, back on Regina. Regina, who somehow still managed to sit upright despite the fact that Emma was unsure how much time she spent away from the hospital. Regina, who still worked on paperwork from the station despite the fact that her son was still lying next to her, still from drugs. Regina, who managed to keep every hair on her head straight despite the obvious stress. Regina, who never once mentioned herself or her own worried about the situation.

Emma wondered how many days and night would go by before her thoughts passed on the woman. Before her curiousity died out. Before her nights in bed wouldn't be spent thinking, thinking, thinking about this woman.

Get out of my head.

That was the thought that came rushing by the second that anything seemed to be creeping up into her thoughts. Get out of my head. Regina Mills, did not in fact, belong there. She was meant to be a bystander, a coworker in a sense of the word. She wasn't supposed to be lingering in Emma's thoughts, in her feelings, in her actions. Regina Mills was supposed to be far, far away.

Still. She invaded. She took over. And Emma found this harder and harder to deal with.

"Swan! What the fuck are you doing?"

Emma dropped the hose that she'd been using, which sprayed a rather large amount of water towards James. Instantly, she fumbled back to shut the water off, far too late to actually fix anything. He glared a her as he flicked the water off of himself in slow, twitching movements, and Emma found herself standing stock still waiting to be yelled at.

"Well?"

"Sorry, Chief! I just, uh. I was washing the rigs."

"You were standing there spraying the same spot for a good five minutes. Care to explain?"

Emma swallowed, still as a rod. She didn't have an explanation. At least, not one that she'd be willing to hand off to James. 'I was thinking about the woman you supposedly hate.' She supposed that wouldn't go over so well.

"Well, sir. I was just…Thinking."

"Think on your own god damned time, Swan. Wasting tax dollars just standing there."

She nodded, bending down to grab the hose and pointing it away from him. "Won't happen again, sir."

"Better not."

He turned around and stocked out. When he was long out of view, Emma leaned against the garage wall and laid her head back, groaning in annoyance with herself before she kicked the cement blocks that surrounded the walls. Damn it.

"Swan!" She stiffened immediately, waiting for Chief to come back and start yelling. Instead, she saw a dark tuff of hair and the stubble of a beard appear in the garage door. Killian. She hadn't thought she could be so relieved to see the man in her life. "Care to tell me why Chief is bonding around muttering to himself under his breath?"

"He's crazy?" she offered as an explination, but seeing the light smile on his face, lightened up. "I may have sprayed him with the hose."

"On purpose?"

"On accident. I've been thinking a bit too much, I guess. Too far into my head?"

He nodded in understanding and hopped up onto the front of the truck, something he had frequently been told not to do but did despite.

"Thinking about overseas?"

Emma blinked, not expecting to hear that as an explanation, and shook her head. "No. I haven't really thought about that in…Well, a pretty long time."

"What then? A handsome lad on your mind?" He flashed a smile in her direction.

"I guess you could say that."

His demeanor relaxed immediately, as though he was glad they wouldn't be discussing anything deep, and he patted the spot next to him as an invite.

"Care to tell me who's on your mind, love? If it's little ol' me, I wouldn't be the least bit insulted. Believe it or not, many ladies have fallen to my charm."

Emma snorted, hopping up next to him and then laying down, her hands behind the back of her neck. "Not exactly you. Sorry, buddy. You know my stance on dating partners."

"Aye, but it doesn't mean you don't find me mighty attractive, no?"

"You're great, Kil. Really. Just. Not you."

He nodded and leaned forward so that his elbows were on his knees as he stared ahead. Perhaps, if they were off shift, he would have a beer in his hand and offer it to her, she would drink and hope to forget everything.

"You gonna tell me who, then?" His face contorted. "Don't tell me it's David."

"Chiefs brother? Hell no."

"Thank god. I think I'd have a heart attack right here and now."

"Myocardial infarction," she rattled off immediately, and then scolded herself when she saw Killian give her a weird look. "That's like, the medical term for heart attack. Myocardial infarction. We had it pounded into us when we were trained."

"Aye. I tend to forget. That was your job over there, right?"

"Yeah. Right."

There was a long silence, silence that was much more comfortable than any silence she had yet faced when talking to Mills. Which made sense. She'd known Killian for longer. Hell, Killian was her partner. They'd better damn well be more comfortable around each other.

"How 'bout Peter?"

"Nope."

"Scully?"

"Nope."

"God forbid, Chief?"

"Fuck, Killian! No!"

"Am I even on the right track here? Is it someone I know?"

She had to think about that for a second. Yeah, Killian knew of her. But that didn't mean much. It wouldn't cross his mind to mention Regina.

"Yeah. You know 'um."

"'Um', huh?"

The pronoun game. She'd tinkered with it frequently in high school. How often had she used the most general word possible when talking about a crush, girl or guy?

"It's not like…I'm not crushing on anyone, Killian."

"'Crushing'?"

"You know what I mean," she said, nudging him slightly with her leg. "I just. Someone's on my mind, is all. It's not that big of a deal."

A look of understanding suddenly crossed his face, and Emma could have darted away right then and there to avoid the rest of the conversation. This wasn't one she wanted to have right now. She didn't want to talk to Killian about this particular matter.

"Mills? You're thinking about Mills?"

"Look. Can we just drop it?"

"Drop it? You're thinking about Mills and you want me to drop it?" The look on his face didn't show horror or anger. It was more like subdued surprise. "Is that why you're coming in late every day you're on? Why you aren't sleeping? Because of Mills?"

Emma kicked the air and shrugged, rolling over to her stomach in a quick motion.

"Swan…Come on. Talk to me. Why Mills?"

She didn't know, and that was the thing. She didn't know why Regina was coming into her thoughts so often. It certainly wasn't their personal discussions, because they didn't really talk about personal things. Occasionally, her life would come up in conjunction with Henry's, but mostly it was just about him. She probably knew more about the boy in a hospital bed than she knew about the woman who stayed glued besides him.

"I don't…I don't know, Killian. I really don't know."

As if a sign from the angels themselves, the sound of their pagers went off the instant she finished the sentence. Killian pushed himself off of the rig immediately, and Emma followed, starting to suit up and jump into the rig. Garage door open, maps out, truck started. Out they went with a short message to dispatch.

"St. August fire needed at 2041 South Main. 2-0-4-1 South Main. Vehicle vs. vehicle. No patients on scene. Police are on scene. Possible fuel leak. Repeating the page…"

Emma sighed. "Just another day in paradise?"

"Aye, love. Just another day in paradise."

That was perhaps the best thing about talking while at work. Social issues went out the door the instant that anything went out. Your focus couldn't be on what was going on in your head. Your focus had to remain on the situation in front of you, and who could be at risk.

It was, in fact, Emma's favorite part of the job.