The first thing that Regina feels as she and David enter the convent together, Emma trailing behind them, the anxiety that has been dogging her for months covering her up like a thick cloak, is a blast of white hot energy that just does manage to skip past her left cheek. It lightly singes the skin there, sizzling atop her flesh for just a brief moment and she sighs thinking about how she'll need to treat that spot with some of her disturbingly smelly specialty oils when she gets home. Either that or risk waking up to find out that she's grown something strange and unsightly at the point of impact.
She's done that before and well...maybe that's where Disney had come up with some of it's evil witch ideas.
"What the hell?" she growls as she throws up her hand and blasts back some of the magic; it scatters against the wall, thick green vines growing where the sparkles of white dust land. One of the vines tumbles forward, reaching for her, and she immediately saws it off, smirking as it howls in protest.
"They tried to cook the fairy dust," David notes.
"Cook the dust?" Emma echoes. "Like as in they tried to make fairy meth?"
Regina chuckles. "More or less, though I expect in this case, they were attempting to return themselves to full power as opposed to getting high." She catches Emma's lifted eyebrow, the surprise clear in her eyes. "I had a lot of time to watch TV while Henry was living with you and your parents at the loft."
"So you watched Breaking Bad?"
"What's Breaking Bad?" David queries.
"A show about amoral and immoral drug dealers," Emma replies, her eyes on the shields that Regina is tossing around; she could technically be helping and she's sure that eventually she will, but she finds her willingness to indulge in magic to be something that comes slow and cautious to her.
Because the line between light and dark magic is dimmer and thinner than most people will ever know.
"You watched a show about –"
"Yes, yes," Regina sighs. "I was bored and it was complicated and interesting, and it was either that or get or poof my way over to your apartment and kill everyone; I found that the show sometimes helped me with those urges." She smiles at that, wiggling her eyebrows in the most macabre and twisted way that she can manage.
"Regina," Emma chuckles because she knows that her lover is trying to un-nerve her father.
They've always had a somewhat strange and occasionally adversarial relationship (what with the whole signing off on executing her thing and then of course the casting of the Dark Curse but hey water under the bridge, right?), but it's gotten even odder since she'd started dating with and then practically living with Regina (she's not living at the Mansion, she attempts to convince herself, just occasionally struggling to climb out of bed in this morning). Now, it seems like David and Regina are constantly trying to irritate each other. And far too often succeeding.
The Queen rolls her eyes and then sends another blast of magic up, dust glittering off of it.
"Nice show," David murmurs. "But it keeps coming; got a plan on how to stop it?"
"Where are the fairy twits? Hiding and letting everyone else clean up their messes as usual, I imagine?"
"Yes and no," the prince sighs. "One of them – Orange, Magenta, I dunno which one this is, actually – tried to consume some of the freshly cooked fairy dust, and it might have made her…hulk out a little bit?"
"You watched The Incredible Hulk?" Regina asks. "That's about right for you."
"Argue about which TV shows shows are right for you guys later," Emma grunts. "Right now, let's figure out how to stop Super Crack Fairy and get home. I was hoping this would be a quiet Christmas not…the usual kind of madness and gut-wrenching bloodshed."
Both Regina and David turn towards her at that, their eyes so serious and worried, and she almost immediately regrets her words, regrets the concern she sees there, but then Regina is smiling at her (and she thinks how had it taken so long for her to notice how stunning the Queen looks when she's not holding anything back) and saying, "Oh tonight is going to be perfect, my dear; the ham is in the oven and I have the perfect Christmas present for you."
David immediately makes a face at that.
Which Regina laughs at, thick and throaty. "Look where the shepherd's dirty little mind went to."
"Exactly where you wanted it to –"
"Hulk Fairy up ahead," Emma cuts in. "Maybe we try to focus on it and not my…uh…yeah."
"Sorry," Regina and David mutter, both turning to face the incoming fairy – apparently Purple considering the exploded overly colorful dress and the monstrously glittering cleavage that she's rocking (thankfully, she's covered, but like many of the Evil Queen's outfits, this one is leaving little to the imagination).
"Wow," Emma says. "That's –"
"Impressive," Regina finishes, her eyes keenly sweeping over the enraged and high as a kite fairy. She turns towards Emma, meeting her eyes and quickly making sure that the Sheriff is on the same page with her (she is; these days, she always is). "But also an opportunity, I do believe."
"You're going to –" David stops and shakes his head.
"Yes," Regina answers. "Not exactly progressive, but the idea is to knock her backwards and right now, her chest is where she's exposing the most skin to us so that's where we go." She says this just as a sharply focused blast of energy cuts right beneath her left ear, opening a wound there; blood flows out quickly, nearly whistling as fairy dust mixes with it and corrupts it.
Yeah, definitely going to have to treat that when she gets home; she still has memories of an infected wound many years ago that she hadn't bothered to treat (in fairness, she hadn't really known to) and the six days of hallucinations which had followed, and while those had been somewhat entertaining (afterwards - they hadn't at all been so during the time and in the immediate aftermath thanks to her strange actions and the absolute displeasure of her unwanted loathsome husband) she wants better for tonight.
She wants better for Emma and for Henry and for this weird little family of theirs.
But that's for later and this is for now, and so with one more look shared between them, she and Emma step forward, moving in front of David (who has pulled his gun and is holding it up, ready to fire should this magic show of theirs fail to stop Purple) and then lifting their hands.
"Ready?" Regina asks.
"Yeah," Emma nods and then she's shoving her hands out and trying not to throw up as magic sizzles up from her palms and explodes out of her fingers; it feels good and she hates that it does because when she sees the gold light swirling in the air, tiny threads of black mixing in, she remembers days and weeks and months spent as the Dark One. She remembers the sound of screaming and the heat of blood, and she remembers the way that people had looked at her.
The way many people in this town still look at her.
Not like the street rat that she has come to accept herself as, but rather as something evil.
Evil and wretched and meant to be destroyed.
She remembers all of that and her head swims, but then one of Regina's hands is finding hers, and squeezing tight and they're both just throwing magic out of one palm now, but somehow it seems even stronger than it was before. Somehow, their combined magic seems ferocious.
And unbeatable.
Still a surprise, but less of a revelation.
Still something magnificent to behold, though.
The magic turns white and red and spins together before bursting and shoving into the front of Purple's chest; yes, it collides against her exposed cleavage, but then it burrows under, using the revealed skin and flesh to attack the muscle and organs beneath. One more blast, and then the fairy it toppling with a loud groan, sparks flying upwards into the air, bouncing chaotically.
"Well then," Regina announces. "That's that."
"Is she alive?" Blue asks from somewhere behind a wall. Which earns her a glare from Regina.
"Oh, you're here. I thought maybe you went out and got some sun," Regina snarks.
"Fairies are not allowed to use magic on each other," Blue defends as she approaches.
"Does Tinker Bell know that?"
Blue ignores her, bending down instead to check on her…whatever Purple is to her. "She's alive," she says after a moment, sounding like she's actually relieved. She then looks up, her eyes sweeping over to David who has stepped forward, his gun holstered once again. She stands up and addresses him, "I very much apologize for the inconvenience, Sheriff –"
"Emma is the sheriff," Regina says sharply.
"Regina," Emma says softly.
"David is her assistant sheriff, but Emma is the sheriff. Which you're well aware of."
"Apologies," Blue says archly, looking over at Emma. "The matter appears to be finished."
"We still don't know what caused…the matter," Emma replies. "Why were you…cooking dust?"
"With all due respect, Sheriff Swan, after what happened with you becoming the Dark One and rampaging through this town, we thought it best to protect ourselves, and the most efficient and obvious way to do that would be to regain our old powers outside of just our wands. Which while useful are hardly powerful enough to completely stop a Savior gone mad. So we tried to concentrate pixie dust into something consumable, and well, it appears to have failed."
"Appears?" David asks in surprise. "I'd say that it more than appears."
"I'd also say you meddling good-for-nothing twits have no business powering up," Regina snaps.
"No, of course not, Your Majesty, better that just a few like you and our former Savior have full magic available."
"You really want to keep pushing on this, Reul; remember, I know most of your little secrets as well, bi-"
"And that ends this friendly little session of Meet the Mayor," Emma chirps. "We'll be going."
"Yes," Regina agrees suddenly, an absolutely feral smile on her lips as she adopts an almost sickeningly sweet tone. "We have Christmas to celebrate. You know what that is, don't you, Reul? Family? Lovers? People who actually want to be with you."
"How new for you," Blue retorts. "Make sure you hold on tight to that."
"Emma," David says quietly, his hand circling her upper right arm; he knows his daughter well after all that they've been through, and he can tell when her anger is starting to build. Since her time as the Dark One, she's been working hard to control her emotions, so deeply afraid of the things inside of her that had allowed the darkness to almost win. But family and the threatening of it seems to break away those locks, and this second chance she's received, it's sacred to her.
But here is neither the time nor the place, and Regina can more than handle her own.
Also, part of this fight is happening because Regina had been defending Emma's honor.
David almost wants to laugh as he considers the weirdness that his life has become; the woman who had led to him sending his newborn child away is now sleeping with that baby as an adult.
Yeah, weird.
"Don't you worry about that," Regina promises. "In the meanwhile, do try to keep your drug making experiments controlled; I would hate to have to order the destruction of the convent because it had suddenly become unsafe for...human occupation."
"You could try."
"Still the Mayor," Regina answers with a grin. "Have a wonderful evening...Mother Superior." Then, turning slightly (but never really taking her eyes off of Blue and the still unconscious Purple), she says to David and Emma who are both watching her with equal measures of exasperation and bemusement, "I do believe that we are done here; I have a ham to get back to you and you two need to finish up."
"We do," David agrees.
"You should really see about getting these walls patched up," Regina notes as she starts to walk away. "I do believe you might have some vegetation growing in through the cracks."
"Thanks for the advice," Blue answers. "And as my own holiday gift, do remember to clean out that cut behind your ear, Regina; who knows exactly what kind of magic got into your blood. Such a shame that your Christmas Eve has been ruined by your...heroism."
She whirls her hand, then (her wand hidden under the cuff) and vanishes, taking Purple with her. And leaving David and Emma looking at Regina, Emma's eyes slightly wide with worry.
"Regina, what did she mean by that?" Emma demands.
"Mostly she meant to annoy me," Regina drawls, flipping her hand dismissively. When that doesn't work, she sighs. "It's nothing; a small cut that I need to clean out and I will when I get home. You two get to the station and finish up. We're still on schedule for dinner and I'd like to stick to that if possible."
"Copy that," David says, and moves away, intentionally allowing the woman a few moments alone. Because yeah, it is weird, but it's also good for both of the, and that's enough for him.
"You're sure you're okay?" Emma asks, stepping forward and lightly tracing her finger over the small ear cut just below Regina's ear, the tip of her finger coming away with a spot of oddly reddish-green blood. She tries not to think about Camelot and a seemingly innocuous wound which hadn't healed when it had seemed to, but it's hard not to, and it's hard not to feel fear mounting and it's hard to breathe and to think that –
"I've dealt with this before," Regina assures her, moving her hands away and then placing a palm lightly on each of Emma's cheeks. "I learned my lesson and actually have de-tox potions at the house; the treatment is simple if a bit maddening, and there are almost no real side effects once it's completed. It's a fast fix."
"Really? I thought all magic –"
"Comes with a price. Yes, but this is a potion; Purple cast the magic is already paying the price."
"You promise you're okay?"
"I have a present that I'm really looking forward to giving you tomorrow morning," Regina tells her, a finger lightly trailing over Emma's face, sliding along cheekbones and then over lips.
"Promise?" Emma urges again.
"I promise. If you didn't have paperwork to finish, I'd let you come home with me and –" she chuckles then, her eyebrows wiggling. "But then I have a feeling the ham would end up burnt."
Emma laughs at that. "Yes." And then leans forward and kisses Regina hard on the lips. "I'm sorry," she says after a minute. "Sorry that you're having to deal with how much these people hate me -"
"It's not an unknown thing to me, Emma; most of them still loathe me, and I could really care less. The people I care about...care about me, too."
"We do," Emma concurs. "I do. But still, I'm sorry for me being so damned needy –"
"If you'd been the one cut, we'd be having this argument in reverse," Regina assures her.
"I know that holding on too tight is what caused the last problem. And that living afraid isn't good for either of us. I don't want to do that. I just want to be –"
"Happy. Me, too. And tonight –" she leans up and kisses Emma on the tip of her nose. "We will be. And tomorrow. And the day after. We have worked too hard not to allow ourselves this."
"When did you become the optimist between the two of us."
"When you needed me to be." Another graze of fingers, this time over Emma's jaw. "That's what we do for each other, Emma; when I needed you to give me hope, you did. Now it's my turn to do the same. We make each other strong; we have always been stronger together."
"You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to tonight," Emma says with a tired sigh.
"Oh I know," Regina answers. "I know you're hoping for…well…I don't know, but I hope it'll be enough." She smiles awkwardly at that, allowing just the smallest bit of doubt onto her face.
"It will be," Emma tells her, leaning her forehead in to touch Regina's; they hold like this for several seconds, until it seems indulgent in a way that neither of them is comfortable with.
Not in public, anyway.
Emma steps back. "I'll see you at ho – at the house."
"Don't be late," Regina tells her, smiling through Emma's near slip, trying not to think about it.
Well aware of every morning that Emma has struggled to crawl out of the bed they've shared.
"I won't," Emma promises and then she's down the steps and joining her father; they bump shoulders and it's nice to see how easily the two of them continue to fit. Emma and Snow still struggle with that, and there are times Regina thinks that she might interfere, but she thinks that it's not her place especially considering the role that she'd played in their estrangement.
All in the past, but still a truth, and eventually she thinks they'll find their way to each other.
Family always does.
Especially the Charming Family.
With a chuckle, Regina descends the steps, stopping herself from scratching behind her ear.
Ignoring the bright dots of orange-white light that she can already see in front of her eyes.
The police cruiser pulls up in front of the garage and Emma gets out, patting the tap of it and reassuring her father that she's got this. He asks again and she chuckles and says, "Go."
But once his car is driving away, she's staring at the garage, taking deep breaths.
Like she always does before she has to speak to someone she hasn't talked to since…before…
Not that she and Michael Tillman had ever been anything close to friends, but she had helped him out once upon a time and well…still, he assuredly knows everything everyone else does.
Knows about the blood on her hands.
Knows that even after all she'd done, she'd somehow ended up with a second chance.
Maybe…
"Emma!" a voice calls out. She turns and Michael is walking towards her, a smile on his face.
"Hey," she says softly. "I was just about to –"
"Stand outside all day?" he asks. When she reacts with awkward surprise, fidgeting as she recognizes how obvious she was, he adds, "I saw you out here. Everything okay?"
"Yeah. I just…people sometimes get uncomfortable when they see me."
"You didn't hurt me or my kids," Michael replies. "And you're why I have my kids." He chuckles. "And you look at me like I'm not just some grease-monkey that can barely spell his own name."
"Who am I to judge?" she says.
"Yeah, definitely. Anyway, Henry sent you over, I assume?"
"He did." Then with a frown. "You have a Santa Claus costume just hanging around?"
"Weird, right? Found it in a box up in the attic. It's like the curse half-ass created a bunch of shit, but didn't know what to do with it. There's weird Easter Bunny stuff up there, too."
"I assume Regina doesn't know?"
"I like you, Emma," Michael tells her, his voice solemn. "And I meant it when I agreed with you about not judging, but me and the Queen, we're never gonna be right with each other."
"That's totally your right," Emma assures him. "I'm sorry, I…that was stupid."
"Nah. You love who you love." He shrugs. "But no, I assume she doesn't know."
"You mind if I come back and look through the stuff sometime after the holidays."
"More than welcome," he says. "Costume is over there. Bit faded, but it looks clean."
"I can have it back to you –"
"Keep it; my kids don't believe in it, anyway. We do Christmas now, but our own way."
"I get that," Emma answers with a small smile. Then, her voice quiet and trembling just a little bit, she says, "Thank you. And not just for the Santa suit but…for looking at me like I'm not someone who you're afraid of. Aside from my family, I'd almost forgotten what that was like."
"Me and the Queen, we'll never be right because of what she did to me – because of how she took my kids away from me, and what she made them go through. But the opposite side of that, Emma, is that you and me will always be right for what you did." He smiles, then. "And besides, I've done some really awful things, too. I have a pretty good idea what hate feels like."
"Not good."
"No," he agrees. "Now get out of here; the kids want to try that whole deep fried turkey thing."
"Be careful," Emma cautions. "Don't burn your eyebrows off."
He laughs. "Merry Christmas, Emma."
"You, too, Michael."
"Mom?" Henry asks as he steps into her bedroom; he finds her in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet and it's a bit of a surreal moment to see his usually very proper mother lounging here, the medicine cabinet behind her swung open and the water faucet dripping warm and steady.
"Hey," she mumbles, dropping her head forward a bit. She sounds drowsy, a bit drugged up, though still mostly coherent (Henry is reminded of seeing one of his school buddies like this..."buzzed" he'd called it, nothing all that major).
"Are you okay?" he asks, coming up beside her and looking down; from where he's standing, he can see a slightly jagged wound just beneath her left ear, the color around it deep and mottled. It's not bleeding, but there's a strange glittering fluid that appears to have been spread over the open cut. "What is this?"
"I got hit by fairy magic," Regina tells him. "In the blood stream, it can be…powerful. So I needed to counter-act it before it could really get going." She looks up at him and smiles, and that's when he notices a similar smear of the oddly colored fluid on her face, covering a scratch.
"So…this is…first aid?"
"It is, and I'm fine," she assures him. "It just feels really strange. Like my blood is actually alive."
"So you're on drugs?"
"Not quite. This is what happens when I stop it. Had it actually gotten all the way into my blood, I would be on the floor of the bathroom challenging the shower head to a magical duel."
"Weird," he laughs. Then, growing serious, "Are you going to be okay for tonight?"
"Yes. I'll be able to wash this off in about twenty minutes, and then I'll take a shower, and I should be fully back to myself by then. It's just…while this is mending that I feel…oddly."
"So if it's not like you're drugged –"
"It kind of is," she corrects. "Just not completely. Everything I'm seeing is distorted. You're blurry and colorful in the middle and then dark around the edges. And you sound like a chipmunk." She laughs at that and then quickly apologizes because no boy wants to hear that.
"It's fine," he chuckles. Then, "Do you want me to stay with you until you can wash it off?"
"The ham –"
"Is out and cooling. I just talked to Grandma and everyone is where they should be and completely on-schedule. Mom and Grandpa are finishing up their paperwork now."
"Good." There's a pause and then, "Yes, I would love for you to stay with me."
TBC…