Emma got up from the couch and crossed to the bookshelf. She owned 3 DVDs: Thelma and Louise, Breakfast at Tiffany's, and Lara Croft - Tomb Raider.

"They're kind of like TV, except you keep them," she said. "Most people have a lot more than three, but these are the only ones I've ever bought."

"I do not know how to choose," Regina said, examining the covers one by one. "Which is your favourite?"

"They're all my favourite, that's why I own them," Emma said with a shrug. "I mean, Tomb Raider's kind of stupid, it's from a video game, I played it once, in a foster home."

"What is a foster home?" Regina asked absently, expecting it to be some kind of place where children played.

"Uh, like, when kids don't have parents, other people foster them. The kids live with them."

"That is kind," Regina said. Emma laughed dryly.

"Not really. They get money from the state."

"Oh… So you were an orphan?"

Emma shrugged. "Dunno. The cops found me at the side of a highway. My parents are probably out there somewhere."

"I thought… I thought they had disowned you," Regina admitted. "Because of Henry. I didn't like to mention it, in case it was an uncomfortable topic."

"Regina, I think my entire life could be called an uncomfortable topic."

There was a pause. "In my world, orphans suffer a great deal, unless they are very lucky," Regina said quietly. "People do not seem inclined to look after children they do not consider their own. Is it… Is it similar, here?"

Emma flopped back on the couch. "You could say that, yeah," she said, her tone verging on sarcastic.

"I have upset you," Regina said.

Emma sighed. "Nah. Not your fault. My childhood was shitty. I had Henry while I was in jail. That's how bad my life was. But it's good now."

"You were in jail? What for?"

Regina didn't seem repulsed, at least. Maybe she was in shock.

"My ex stole a bunch of watches, then let me take the fall for it."

"He sounds like an ass hole."

Emma grinned. "You say it in one, like asshole."

"Asshole," Regina echoed.

"You got it! And yeah, he was one. A real ugly one, too."

"Henry takes entirely after you, then," Regina said primly.

"Pick a movie," Emma said, trying not to blush.

Regina pointed to Breakfast at Tiffany's.

"Trust you to pick the fancy looking one," Emma said. Regina appeared almost hurt; Emma patted her shoulder. "I'm teasing you, Princess."

"I'm not a-"

"I know." Emma popped the DVD into the player.

"Are you ever entirely sincere?" Regina asked as the opening credits rolled.

The blonde shrugged, leaning back into the couch. "Stuff's a lot easier to deal with if you don't take it seriously," she said in the end.

Regina didn't answer, enthralled by the music.

"She looks like your kind of princess," Regina chuckled as Audrey Hepburn took a sizeable bite of pastry and slurped down some coffee while staring through the window of Tiffany's jewellery store.

But you're my kind of princess.

Regina had thousands of questions throughout the movie; Emma did her best to answer them, though she often had to pause the DVD player because every answer only seemed to lead to more questions.

Consequently, they didn't finish watching it until long into the night, and something about the dark, silent hour, the circumstances, or maybe just the company, made Emma Swan see the final scene in a light she's never seen it in before. She watched Fred make his impassioned speech before running out into the rain after the nameless cat and she watched Holly shake and cry in the back of a taxicab and suddenly it was her life that was falling apart.

Untamable tears poured down her cheeks and Regina looked over in wonder at the sobbing woman illuminated by the bizarre pink light of the menu screen. Regina had always thought, known, even, that she would be the one to break. She was the one this was breaking. But here they were, and sure, the story had made her heart scream and soar just like it had Emma's, but they both knew Emma wasn't crying over some couple in tan trench coats and a rain soaked feline.

Although, honestly, neither of them quite knew what Emma was crying about.

Emma blinked through the waterfall pouring out of her eyes and tried desperately to think of an explanation.

"When you said she was my kind of princess," Emma hiccoughed, "you didn't mean she's the kind of princess I'd like, did you?"

Regina frowned, trying to contextualise the question.

"You meant she's me, you meant she and I are the same," Emma continued.

"I… Well, I suppose I did," Regina said awkwardly, wondering if this was the cause of Emma's emotional breakdown. "But there are many differences, of course."

"I always liked her," Emma said. "But I never saw it like… Do you think I'm keeping myself in a cage?"

"Emma, you have a wonderful life. You have a beautiful son, you're kind, you're giving, and-"

"I don't have any friends," Emma blurted out. "I have Henry, and that's it. I got out of prison, I got out of that cage and I was so hurt, by everyone and everything, that I just took Henry and ran from it all. I support myself, I don't need anything from anybody, but you're the first person I've actually tried to be nice to in over a year and you're not even from this freaking world, you're going to leave and I'm going to go right back to how I was before and maybe one day I'll find some cute, rich guy to take care of me and pay for Henry's college and I'll convince myself that I care for him but it'll be just like Holly, I'm a chicken, just like her, because I'll never have the courage to-" She stopped herself abruptly.

"Have the courage to what?" Regina whispered after a considerable pause. There was that feeling in her stomach again, that exciting, intoxicating, tangled up feeling, only this time it was far more complicated and confusing and she just wanted to wrap Emma up in her arms and-

Emma jumped up from the couch. "I can't do this," she cried. "And we never did the laundry."

Silent and swift, she hurried through to the bedroom and collected the hamper, threw the towels, hoisted a still sleeping Henry onto her hip, and marched out of the apartment. Regina followed. Eight flights of stairs proved Henry to be a remarkably heavy sleeper. Emma threw everything into one washer, poured in the detergent, fed in the quarters, then marched for the stairs again, all without saying a word or even looking at Regina, who was following her like a lost puppy.

Emma put Henry back in bed (he had hardly even stirred) then looked around the room in miserable exasperation. Regina stood in the doorway.

"What on earth is the matter?" the brunette finally whispered, channeling her mother's demanding nature.

Emma waved her back into the living room, silently closing the bedroom door before rounding on the woman who had proved to be her complete undoing.

"We were fine, you know? Before you showed up!" she said, wiping fruitlessly at the tears that were still running down her cheeks. "And we'll be fine again. We will. Just you watch. Just you watch, Princess. We'll be just fine."

Then she turned on her heel, strode back into her room, and closed the door on her incredibly confused houseguest.

Regina walked over to the couch and examined the controller for the TV. She pressed buttons systematically until the screen (and the room) went black, then lay down on the couch and stared into the darkness.

She was still lying there, thinking, when Emma came in 40 minutes later. "I'm putting the clothes in the dryer," Emma whispered. "Stay here in case Henry wakes up?"

Regina wondered how Emma had known she was awake. She sat up and watched the door until Emma came back. The only thing Emma could see when she re-entered the apartment was the reflection of the light from the hallway in Regina's eyes. It was both creepy and cute. She turned on a lamp and sat on the couch again.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Regina brushed some imaginary lint off her pyjama bottoms.

"I know you will be fine when I leave," Regina said quietly. She bit back everything else. She couldn't stay. Emma clearly wanted her to go. It was painfully obvious that she was having a very negative impact on the blonde's happiness and wellbeing.

"It's that damn movie," Emma said. "It always gets to me. I just…"

"You identify with Holly."

"Yeah."

"But you are nothing like her. Not really."

"Hey, you even said I was."

"After a moment, based entirely on the way she ate!"

"Okay, fine, but I am like her. How am I ever going to make anything of my life when all I do is run from my feelings?"

"Do you really run from them?"

"I… I don't know."

"If either of us is runner, Miss Swan, it is me."

"What do you mean? You didn't want to leave, you want to go back."

"Neither of those statements is accurate. I did not mean to leave, but after the initial shock, I am very glad that I did."

"You… You are?"

Regina studied Emma's surprised expression.

"I do not want to marry the king."

Emma had pretty much known that, anyway.

"You said they were both wrong," Emma said quietly. "You don't want to go back?"

Regina bit her lip. Hard. Emma waited. Eventually, Regina shook her head. To her surprise, she felt Emma's arms wrap around her and pull her against a warm, surprisingly soft body. Emma stroked Regina's hair, held her close, and wished with all her heart that life didn't have to be real.

"But I have to."

"What if we don't find a way?"

Regina curled up small and breathed in Emma's scent.

"We don't have to. She will."

"She?"

"My mother."

"Regina, I-"

"There is nothing you can do. If she wants me back, she will bring me back. It will be immediate, there will be no opportunity for refusal."

They sat in silence until the alarm on Emma's phone vibrated, telling them the laundry was dry. Emma went to fetch it, then returned, dumped it on the couch, and took Regina's hand.

"Come on," she said.

Regina allowed herself to be escorted to the bedroom. In any other situation, she would have felt afraid, but with Emma she needed no explanation to know she was safe. Emma put her into the bed, going as far as to arrange her pillows and blankets for her, then climbed in the other side, wrapped her arms around her, and murmured,

"I don't have a fucking clue how to help you, but you're not alone, okay?"

Regina relaxed into the hold and closed her eyes. "Thanks for the movie," she breathed. "I loved it."

Emma laughed. And I love you, Regina Mills.

BREAK

They awoke seemingly moments later to a screaming child, loud cries interrupted with loud, snuffly coughs. Emma was out of the bed in a flash; Regina was right behind her, standing, waiting to be told how to help.

Emma cuddled Henry close and felt his head.

"You're burning up," she told him, her mind already racing through their options. She had to go to work, if she didn't go to work she'd stop getting shifts and she wouldn't get paid so she wouldn't pay rent and they'd get kicked out of the apartment and starve on the streets. She could get a sitter. Or-

Her thoughts were interrupted by the blaring alarm on her phone. Regina messed with it until it turned off (Emma tried not to laugh when she slid the phone along the table before realising you had to slide your finger across the screen). Then Regina looked up, rumpled and exhausted, and eyes alight with understanding.

"Henry is sick," she said. "But you must work."

Emma looked at her, hard, and wondered…

"I know you hardly know me, but I am good with him, I think. And it is high time I did something for you. I can care for him."

Emma thought about it. She wanted to say yes. She needed to say yes. She had to say yes.

"You wanna spend the day with Princess Dina?" Emma asked her snivelling son. He nodded, then reached out for Regina, perhaps understanding the transfer to be immediate. Emma passed him over and he wiped his snotty face on the shoulder of her new pyjamas as she snuggled him against her side.

"Thank you," Emma said, meaning it with all her heart. "I'll come back on my lunch break, I'll only be able to look in for a few minutes, but it's better than nothing. Don't try to cook anything, I mean, there's cheese and bread, you'll find something to eat. Call me, wait, uh… There's a payphone in the lobby. You feed it money, and you press the numbers I'm going to write down for you. So if something happens, call my cell with that."

Most of the information went over Regina's head but she understood Emma was talking about some kind of long distance contact. She very much hoped it would not be necessary.

Emma produced tissues and medicine to bring Henry's fever down (which he took only slightly under duress), then gestured for Regina to sit on the bed.

"Just hold him, the medicine should make him sleepy. I have to get ready and go. You want coffee?"

"Yes, please," Regina said distantly, letting the world whirl past her.

She wondered when her mother would summon her. Now that she thought about it, it was strange that it had taken so long. She knew from Rumple that crossing realms was difficult, but it was clearly possible. She also knew that she was in the torture he had designed for her mother. She laughed wryly. It was perfect. Her mother would have detested this place. Perhaps that was why she liked it so much.

Henry was asleep in her arms by the time Emma returned with her coffee. She would change at work; she had on a hoodie, she was slurping her own drink, and she fished in her pocket to produce a handful of candies, which she shoved into her mouth. She then took out the bag and handed it to Regina.

"You seemed to like the look of them in the car. They're chocolate. Keep them out of sight of the kid, he has candy of his own in the kitchen but he can't have these yet, they're too easy to choke on.

Emma forced herself not to comment on how safe and perfect Henry looked in Regina's arms. By the skin of her teeth, she also managed not to bring up their conversation the night before. It had sounded, and felt, a lot like Regina didn't want to go anywhere. Emma didn't know how magic worked, but Regina had said crossing realms was hard… Emma wondered if that meant they had time.

She held back her questions and kissed Henry's head. Without thinking, she gave Regina a similar kiss. Regina, who had been letting everything wash over her, snapped back to reality with a sharp intake of breath. Then she put down the bag of candy and grabbed Emma's hand.

"Emma."

Emma stared. She had said Emma. Not Miss Swan. Emma.

"Have a good day," Regina said.

"Thanks," Emma said, her voice cracking a little. Because she was tired. That was all. "You too."

Emma left the apartment, already late. Regina listened to her leave and wondered how in the world she was going to stop thinking of the Swans as her family. When that proved to be an impossibility, she watched Henry sleep and thought about other things.

She thought about "foster homes" and Emma's childhood that she had revealed so little about. She thought about her mother, her fears, and Rumple's plan. She wondered how safe she could be. She'd never been anywhere her mother couldn't reach her before.

She remembered a time when she had been about seven, when she had hidden in a closet in the servants' quarters. Her mother had been angry with her, she couldn't remember why, and for some reason she had found the courage, or cowardice, to try to escape. Her mother could have found her with magic in seconds, but for some reason, Cora Mills had chosen to search the fortress slowly. Perhaps she had known that waiting would torture her daughter as much as, if not more than, the inevitable punishment.

Regina remembered there had been a momentary lull in her fear. At first she had been certain that she would be found, but then no one had come, and she had been blissfully alone. She had lain down, just small enough to do so comfortably, and pulled a blanket over herself. Then she had closed her eyes and imagined a warm, caring woman, lifting her, hugging her, holding her close. For several wonderful minutes, she'd had hope, hope for a life away from her mother.

And then she had realised that she was in a closet in her mother's fortress, that it was only a matter of time before she was found, and that her punishment would be even worse because she had tried to avoid it.

"I think the lull is over," she whispered to Henry. "But perhaps I should just have enjoyed it. It was another hour, at least, before she found me. It would have been better to continue dreaming."

BREAK

A/N: Sorry it took me so long. Still, please review, lovely people.