VIII.
The end of the semester comes in mid-December, leaving the small campus completely abandoned as students temporarily move out of the residence halls for the winter break to visit family, travel, or do whatever else one does in the harsh New England winter when the college shuts down. Regina finds herself saddened that the term is over, but she chalks it up to being stuck at the Blanchard mansion without an escape for the next three weeks, combined with a touch Seasonal Affective Disorder. It's most certainly not the lack of banter with a blonde faculty member she had come to appreciate more than she ever expected. Or the semi-erotic dream she had about the woman the night before her final exam. Absolutely not… or so she tells herself.
Fortunately for the college senior, her parents jet off to Aspen only four days after the end of the semester, promising to be back a few days after Christmas. "We'll celebrate then," they promise, as Mary-Margaret is spending Christmas with David's extended family in Iowa and would be coming back on the 27th. Leopold and Cora had encouraged Regina to join them in the Colorado mountains, but the thought of spending seven days with her parents in a small three bedroom ski lodge cabin was less appealing than being alone for Christmas in a sprawling mansion in a deserted town in the backwoods of Maine. She takes a hard pass on the offer, instead deciding that she'll use the opportunity to get a head start on studying for the GMAT, which she is scheduled to take just before spring semester begins in January, as well as working on her business school and job applications. Her hiccup with Harvard means that her MBA dreams will be pushed back a year, but she tries to tell herself that a year of real-world experience will only help her when she finally walks into Northwestern, or University of Chicago, or maybe UPenn or Stanford. (Harvard is clearly no longer an option, and she'll be damned if she doesn't go to a top five business school. She tells herself it'll make the decision-making process easier, only having four schools from which to choose with Harvard no longer in the running). Her parents buy her excuse for why she cannot join them, but they remind her of the rules, although they all know it isn't necessary. There is literally nothing to do in Storybrooke during winter break. Even Granny's Diner closes immediately after the dinner shift ends at 7pm.
It's on her third day of solitude as she's making her favorite hearty butternut squash lasagna that she finally feels the need to get out of the house. She hasn't spoken to anyone since her parents left for the airport, and she has to admit that she's going a little stir-crazy. But more importantly, it seems that her mother hasn't replaced the sage, and without that ingredient, the lasagna isn't worth eating. She throws the otherwise prepared lasagna in the refrigerator for safe keeping and grabs her car keys, heading over to the corner market.
The small store is nearly empty, which is a relief. She's hungry and doesn't want to wait in a long line to buy one small packet of fresh herbs. She detours on the way to the produce section, deciding that she could use a bottle of wine to go with her meal. Her parents have a fully-stocked cellar at home, but she would never hear the end of it if she wasted a bottle of Masseto on a dinner by herself. She browses the pinot noir section, her preferred varietal, regardless of whether a sommelier thinks it is an appropriate complement to her meal, and picks up an $18 bottle that will do just fine. As she turns around to head back toward the main part of the store, she nearly crashes into someone. "Oh, I'm sorry," she apologizes reflexively before even looking up.
"Oh, it's no … Regina, hey."
"Emma," Regina gasps, not expecting to see her former instructor in the wine aisle. "Hi."
"How are you?" the blonde asks, a friendly smile on her lips and a small shopping basket in the crook of her elbow.
"I'm doing well," she says. "And I saw that grades posted. Thanks for not failing me," Regina jokes. She had managed to pull off a B in the woman's course.
"You earned it. I know you hated taking a freshman seminar and felt like it was beneath you, but you grew a lot in that class, despite the rough start to the semester."
Regina smiles shyly and quickly changes the subject. "So, what are you still doing in town? I'm surprised you didn't leave Storybrooke like everyone else tends to do."
"I thought about it, but the friends I usually visit for Christmas are vacationing in Hawaii, and I can't swing that on my grad student budget right now," Emma confesses. "This town isn't that bad, though. And it's nice and quiet when all the students are gone. I like when it's just the locals. They're charming."
"You mean the townies?" Regina wrinkles her nose. 'Charming' wouldn't be the first word she thinks of when she thinks of townies. She should know; she's one of them.
Emma just laughs. "Yeah. This town has grown on me in the year and a half I've lived here."
"I see," Regina nods. "Any big plans then for your reprieve from students?"
"Not really. Probably catching up on my Netflix queue, and maybe some reading for fun. And honestly, probably working on my thesis. I'm not quite where I want to be on that, and I have to give Dr. Midas an updated draft of what I have as soon as spring semester starts."
"That sounds almost as much fun as my plan to spend winter break studying for the GMAT."
Emma winces in distaste. "I think they're equally as boring and depressing for the Christmas holiday."
"Very true," Regina says.
"Speaking of, why are you still in town? I figured you'd head back to visit your family."
"Oh," Regina replies. "I am actually from here."
"Really? How did I not know that? I knew you were from Maine, but I just assumed you were from somewhere else in the state, since you didn't say anything."
Regina bites her lip, still hesitant to reveal the identity of her parents. "Yeah, well, it's not something I like to advertise," is what she decides is still a vague enough reply.
"Ah," Emma nods. "Well, it's nice that you don't have far to travel to see your family."
"Yeah," Regina agrees, neglecting to mention that she's not actually spending the holiday with them. She knows Emma grew up in the system and never had parents of her own — it's something that came up during one of their office hours sessions, when Regina had asked her about her thesis topic. The blonde mentioned her analysis of the foster system and revealed her own status as a foster kid who aged out of the system. So, Regina would feel guilty admitting that she passed up the opportunity to spend Christmas with her own parents.
"So, what are you up to?" Regina asks, eyeing the case of Miller Lite in the blonde's free hand. "Throwing a raging party?"
She laughs. "I wish. No, just picking up some beer to last me through break, and then hitting up the hot food bar to get some dinner before going to get started on my Netflix backlog."
"That's pathetic," Regina says before she can filter herself. At Emma's look of surprise, and possibly offense, she frowns and quickly self-corrects. "I'm sorry, I just mean…no, I stand by what I said. It's pathetic. The hot food bar here isn't even good," Regina cringes. She's not opposed to ready-to-eat grocery store food on principle, and she even misses living across the street from Whole Foods where she would pick up a to-go container of dinner after her late study sessions when she was too tired to cook. But the options at Second Avenue Foods are questionable at best. "Who knows how long that stuff has been sitting out? Especially since the town's population just decreased by 75% with the campus closing for break. You'll probably get salmonella just walking past the food bar."
"It's not quite that bad," Emma rolls her eyes. "And I'm a terrible cook and can't do take out from Granny's for a third night in a row. I always feel like she's judging me when I go to pick up my order."
"Then join me for dinner. I have a lasagna almost fully prepped at home. I just realized we were out of a few key ingredients and I wanted to pick up some wine to go with it," she says, holding up the bottle in her hand.
"Seriously?" Emma asks, equal parts nervous and surprised.
"Why not? It's more food than I can possibly eat on my own, even if I have it for leftovers every day for the next week. I could use the help."
Emma smiles despite herself. "Then, sure. That sounds great."
"Perfect. I just have to pick up one more thing but I can meet you by the entrance and you can follow me over," Regina says, waving Emma off before the blonde can change her mind and hurrying to go find the needed sage for her pasta sauce. Unfortunately, Second Avenue Foods is no Whole Foods, so there are no fresh herbs in sight. She reluctantly picks up a container of dried sage from the spice aisle, quickly pays the cashier, and finds Emma waiting for her at the front of the store. "I half expected you to bail," she comments honestly as they walk toward the parking lot.
"The promise of lasagna is too good an offer to pass up."
"Just wait until you actually taste it," Regina smirks as she sets the plastic bag down in her passenger seat. She raises an eyebrow as she sees Emma open the driver's side door to the yellow Volkswagen Beetle parked next to her. "Bold choice," she comments.
Emma rolls her eyes. "So, where am I going?"
"Just follow me. It's only a few minutes away."
IX.
Regina slowly pulls into the detached garage behind her house, checking her rearview mirror to make sure that she's still being followed. She sees the tell-tale round headlights of the Bug pull into the long driveway off the back alley before the lights die off and the blonde emerges from the car, barely visible in the winter darkness and illuminated only by the soft glow of the streetlamp.
"Jesus. You live here?" Emma asks as she looks up at the large white Colonial. Even from the back it's impressive.
"Yep," Regina says.
"I figured you'd live in an apartment or something. Just how rich are you?" Emma teases, but she's only half-joking. She knows Regina is wealthy, but she didn't realize she's 'owning a mansion at age 22' wealthy.
"It's my parents' house," she offers by way of explanation, leading the blonde through the back garden next to the garage so they can head toward the house and get out of the freezing temperatures.
"Well, it's lovely," Emma says, feeling slightly embarrassed by her earlier outburst of shock.
"Thanks," she replies, holding the door open for the blonde and ushering her inside. She kicks off her boots and shrugs off her Canada Goose parka as soon as the door closes behind her, tossing it on top of the laundry machine in the mud room. Emma does the same, and Regina guides her guest into the kitchen. She sets the bottle of wine she purchased on the large island, and tells Emma to take a seat, that it will only take her a few minutes to finish prepping the sauce for the lasagna. She heads to the refrigerator to take out the lasagna and remaining ingredients, stopping briefly to preheat the oven on the way.
"So are your parents here?" Emma asks, suddenly a little sketched out about being in her former student's parents' house. It was bad enough when she thought she was going to the woman's apartment, but this has the potential to be extra awkward.
"No. They're out of town skiing, actually," she answers with an eye roll.
"Oh. Well, anything I can do to help?" Emma asks, wanting to feel useful and not like she's bumming dinner off one of her former students.
"You can open the wine, if you'd like. Glasses are in the top left cabinet, corkscrew in the center drawer," she answers, frowning as she mixes the dried sage into the creamy base she made earlier. It's just not the same as the fresh herb would be, but it will have to do.
"Here you go," Emma says, handing her a glass of wine after the brunette places the dish in the oven.
She smiles as she takes it, immediately sipping it and enjoying the taste. As she sets the glass back down, she notices the blonde staring at her. "What?" she asks, growing anxious.
"Nothing," the woman says quickly.
Regina raises an eyebrow, not buying the quick dismissal.
Emma bites her lip, hesitating before she voices her thoughts. "It's just a bit of cognitive dissonance."
"How so?" Regina asks, taking another sip of her wine.
"It just caught me off guard all of a sudden. You were always so polished in class, and I don't think I've even seen you wear a sweatshirt before, let alone leggings. And I never took you as someone who would be so meticulous and interested in cooking. I'm just trying to reconcile the two Reginas in my head," Emma explains. She hadn't noticed in the store since they were still in their winter coats, but now that she had been watching the woman prepare their meal, she was intrigued by the more relaxed version of the student.
Regina slowly nods, taking it in. "I see," she says, suddenly self-conscious.
"Sorry. Please don't take that the wrong way. It's not a bad thing."
Regina shrugs. "I'm not offended. But in my defense, I really had no intention of interacting with anyone other than the market cashier tonight. Had I known, I probably would have put on real clothes."
Emma chuckles, relieved that she hasn't completely insulted Regina. "Well, you pull it off well."
"Thanks," she rolls her eyes as she takes another drink of her wine. "So, we still have at least another 40 minutes for the lasagna to be done. Did you want to watch Netflix or something while we wait?"
Emma smiles. "That sounds great. Lead the way."
X.
It's three days later and Emma finds herself once again sprawled out on Regina's living room sofa, a bowl of popcorn resting in her lap as the brunette sits on the floor in front of the couch, blindly reaching her hand over her head for a handful of popcorn. Occasionally she misses and grazes the blonde's thigh or abdomen when she fumbles for the bowl, but neither woman chooses to acknowledge it.
This is the fourth night in a row they've had a movie night. The first had been that night at Regina's place over plates of lasagna. At the end of the night, Emma had made the startling realization Regina had been hoping to avoid: "Wait, why are there photos of President and Dean Blanchard on your mantle?" Emma had asked when she got up to help Regina put away their dishes. Regina then had to reveal the truth about her family, causing Emma to clam up and quickly excuse herself. She had already been feeling uncomfortable about hanging out with a former student, but the daughter of the president and the dean made it even worse in her mind. She had no right to be in their home without their permission.
But, the next night Emma had been bored, as literally no one else was in town. She had emailed Regina, as they had never exchanged phone numbers, to see if she wanted to watch the next movie in the series they had started. Regina had been more than willing, but Emma had insisted Regina come to her apartment, because the thought of being back in the Blanchard household creeped her out. (In hindsight, she knows it was probably not any better to invite the president and dean's daughter over to her apartment instead, but they were both bored without any friends around for the holiday, and it was only a movie). That had worked well until they both lamented the fact that Emma's 24-inch TV was nothing compared to the massive flat screen in the Blanchard's living room. Against her better judgement, on night three Emma had returned to the college president's house, impropriety be damned.
On that first night during dinner they had planned to watch cheesy holiday-themed Hallmark movies, but they started to go for slasher flicks instead when they discovered their shared interest in Freddie Krueger. It had seemed like a great idea at first to start working their way through the franchise, until a particularly powerful gust of wind from the roaring blizzard outside knocked a tree branch into the side of the house on their third night of movie watching, causing both women to scream and Regina to end up nearly in Emma's lap. Days — and months, if they're being honest — of tension finally hit the breaking point with that stray tree limb, and when Regina found herself so close to Emma, she couldn't help but lean in and softly kiss the blonde. Emma had reciprocated until another gust of wind howled loud enough to get her attention. She had quickly stood up and moved off the sofa, looking out the window at the quickly accumulating snow. "I should go before it gets any worse," she had said. Regina nodded her agreement as she peeked through the opposite window, but by the time the blonde started walking down the sidewalk, they both quickly realized there was no way her Volkswagen Beetle was going to make it through the foot and a half of snow. Regina had offered to let Emma stay in one of the guest rooms, which the blonde had graciously accepted, but it was irrelevant — they both ended up staying in the living room, deciding to continue their Nightmare on Elm Street marathon and passing out a little after 3am on opposite ends of the couch.
When the morning came, neither woman had acknowledged the kiss from the night before, instead working through the awkwardness until they resumed some sense of normalcy while eating cereal that morning. The snow had continued to fall all day, meaning that Emma was again captive in the Blanchard house. Knowing that they still had five more movies in the franchise to get through, they had started early, as they had nothing better to do. It's Christmas Eve and neither had anywhere else to be.
It had been nearly eight in the evening before Regina realized her parents hadn't even called to check-in. She had one vague "Merry Christmas Eve" text from Mary-Margaret, with an attached photo of her with David kissing under the mistletoe. Emma had seen the photo over Regina's shoulder and crinkled her nose in distaste. "How cliché," she had said, causing Regina to chuckle in agreement.
So, here they are, back in the comfort of the habit they had developed over the previous few days, but very much aware that they are on the final movie of the series — the terrible remake of the original classic. The snow has started to slow, but neither woman really wants it to end. "So…" Regina says as the movie enters its final half hour. "I know the roads are probably clear, but if you want to crash here again tonight, you're welcome to." She hopes she sounds casual.
"Oh," Emma replies. "I don't know if that's a good idea."
Regina shrugs, feigning nonchalance. "Well, the invitation is open. I don't have any other plans, so if you want to spend Christmas here, you can. We can always start Friday the 13th."
"Ooo, that is tempting," Emma smirks, glancing down at the brunette whose head is turned to look at her. When Regina refocuses her attention on the television, Emma speaks up. "So before I agree to anything, are we going to continue to ignore the elephant in the room?"
"I thought we were doing a pretty good job of it thus far," Regina comments.
"You kissed me."
"I did," she confirms. "And you kissed me back."
"This is true."
"Yep."
And thus the awkward silence continues.
A/N: One last installment to come tomorrow, when it all comes to a head and all is revealed. Thanks again for reading!
