At twelve o'clock in the afternoon, Emma Swan discovered that she had, inadvertently, committed a cardinal sin derived from every high school movie she could think of- she'd been stood up in the middle of an empty parking lot by (arguably) the hottest woman in town. Her teenage self cringed, slapped her forehead with a heavy hand, and headed back to whichever home she was living in at the time to scrounge for ice cream and wallow in self-loathing and despair, leaving adult-Emma behind, because that should have never, ever happened. And certainly not when she had been so close to making something happen (promises of the date on Friday excluded).
A real something- a kiss, more-than-friendly hug, second base in the front seat of Regina's Mercedes like two teens in a middle school parking lot with a bottle of bottom shelf discount liquor and enough dreams to propel their over-inflated egos to the moon and back. It could have happened, but it didn't because she was too slow or Regina was too fast...or, hell, it didn't even matter because she was still standing in the middle of the parking lot doing her best impression of a terrified sardine who just went fin to fin against a Great White Shark and lived to tell the tale.
Miraculously. Like when Nemo had been flushed down the toilet into the unforgiving unknown, she, too had lived to see the big, wide, wet, and blue ocean. Only it was more like Granny's back parking lot instead of the ocean, and she hadn't just completed some life-changing adventure, so, really, she had nothing in common with a clownfish.
Sometimes, she really wanted to steal Mary Margaret's bow and arrow and shoot herself in the foot for being so...whatever the heck she was.
Instead of finalizing the logistics of a plan involving self-loathing (aka, more ice cream than Dr. Whale would dignify as healthy), Emma straightened her spine and marched herself through the back door of the diner, well prepared to make amends with her teenage self by planting a good one on a certain brunette. Nice, wet, and thoroughly embarrassing for their son should he be witness to the event (or hear about it later from the town's resident gossip queens). She continued her march down the short hall, past the industrial-sized freezers, and made it to the open doorway that would lead into the main part of the diner before she realized the one fatal flaw in her plan-
The town of Storybrooke, Maine was out to screw with her impending love life.
All of its lovely inhabitants, superhero or otherwise, congregated in the small diner had, apparently, decided to take sides in the Rumple/Team Beta/Cora/It's-high-school-all-over-again fight. Literally. Took sides.
The diner had become Ground Zero, a battleground of sorts with poor Henry stuck underneath one of the tables near the middle like an unfortunately placed referee. Poor kid looked like a terrified wildebeest in the middle of two squabbling packs of lions; that is, if the lion packs were headed by some really Type-A personalities with weapons and superpowers and an intense hatred of one another for some inexplicable reason that had never been explained to a certain blonde onlooker.
Emma peeked over Regina's shoulder, making a mental note to ask the woman to either switch to practical flats or shorter heels. If she snuffled a bit of dark hair while she was there, well, all of the potential witnesses were too busy hollering at each other and making empty threats to really take notice of what she was doing in the doorway with the notorious Evil Queen, who, by the way, smelled of homemade apple pie; which only served to make Emma's stomach growl and turn in an unfortunate manner.
"Move your hand, Ms. Swan," came Regina's predictable reply when the blonde's left hand happened to stray a bit south (purely for balance, as she was perched rather precariously over the brunette's shoulder to get the best look at the happenings in the main part of the diner- again, Regina's fault with those ridiculous shoes.) It wasn't her fault that she had been born a complete klutz and needed more assistance with stability than most people, and Regina's hip just happened to be there, so-
"Are we going in? I mean, we should probably stop...whatever they're doing," Emma trailed on the last bit, carefully observing what the heck her friends and enemies were doing. As she had said in the meeting earlier, if Regina wasn't there to fight with, then it really wasn't worth it. There were only so many times she could take Cora waving her hands, making her disappear and reappear in the middle of the forest during a fight, before it became predictable and draining.
She had not signed up for that shit.
As a certified member of Team Beta, she expected better. And if better meant that she were forced to spend the day, night, whatever in the back of Granny's diner with only Regina and a plateful of previously frozen french fries, then so be it.
She could adapt to her surroundings like a forest ranger or Yogi Bear (with a picnic basket full of yummy goodies).
"We should ascertain that they haven't been foolish enough to break the barrier keeping the Pan out," Regina replied flatly, almost resigned to her fate as she fidgeted for the briefest of seconds. Her hands clenched at her sides, the only outward sign of her discomfort as she stepped forward, acutely aware of the presence lurking at (and on) her shoulder.
"Yeah, we should do that," Emma agreed, though with less conviction. Seriously? The barrier could be broken if, say, Ruby wanted a smoke break or if Leroy had to be chucked out on his rear for consuming immense quantities of liquor that made him believe he was the equivalent of Don Juan with the local nuns. One nun in particular, if she were being specific about the matter.
They broke past the open doorway, and Emma found that she regretted it immediately. Sure, there might not have been cooked food in the kitchen, but Regina was good for that. It was a diner; they had red pepper flakes and other stuff that went into lasagna, meaning that Emma would have been set for a lifetime or two. Too bad they had to walk into the war zone where she might be hit by a flying something or other before she could convince Regina to give up all things evil and take up the position as her personal chef.
"Belle! Give her back! I know you have her hidden away somewhere. Give her back or I'll set fire to the entire town."
"For the-"
Yeah, she didn't need to be listening to this nonsense again when there were other, more important things she could be doing. Like rescuing Henry from his little cubby-hole position, going to back to Regina's, and relaxing while she updated her Facebook status and checked her Twitter feed. How many more times did she had to listen to Mary Margaret's insistence that they were good, Regina and co. were evil, and none of that was going to change unless aforementioned Regina and co. saw the error of their ways and sought forgiveness like a bunch of fallen Catholics.
Or Rumple's one note demands to have his girlfriend dragged out of her rented room at Granny's and presented before him.
"Enough!"
Emma froze. Years of training in the foster system, whether in group homes or placed with a family, she knew that nothing good ever happened when someone raised their voice to that particular level. Nothing, ever. There were no cakes, no parties, no fancy cardboard hats. No, a whole lot of yelling equaled more yelling and screaming and, altogether, badness, usually aimed at one misfortunate individual who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong presumed stolen thing in their hands. Mentally, she scanned through her movements leading up to the point of holler, finding nothing that would lead her to be in trouble.
Once her innocence was established, she visibly relaxed and followed the screamer into the middle of the room. Better to be by the side of the individual stopping the ruckus than in the fray where more screaming might be aimed in her direction. Because, dammit, she was innocent this time. And-
Child rescue.
She felt like Superman. Except she wasn't 'cause he was kind of a jerk for not even reading her application into his syndicate. So what if she couldn't fly or have super strength or the ability to walk around in spandex without feeling self-conscious about the lacking amount of crunches she managed in between her double cheeseburgers.
The yelling made sense, then, if Regina had raised her voice to make a path through the room and ensure Henry's continued existence. Emma knew there had to be a reason; she had just hoped it would be for more selfish reasons, like carbohydrates or rocket launchers. But the kid was good, too. More important, even.
She stood back and watched the brunette snatch their son by the scruff of his neck and tuck him under the protection of her arm before she turned back to the forces facing off. "Oh, mother, please tell me you haven't been chasing after Rumple this entire time."
"Shouldn't I be asking you about your intentions with the Savior, darling?" Cora retorted in a fashion that made her look like a young child. Pouting as she was, she was the indignant sort, preferring to fling barbs as quickly as they pierced her own hide. Even at the expense of her own child.
Emma had always believed Cora Mills to be the heartless sort, and as she stood waiting for the next set of directions (leaving, her go-to option, obviously wasn't the solution with the barrier and all) she couldn't help but wonder about the exact nature of the Queen of Hearts' love for her daughter. Sure, she knew from experience that there were parents who pushed their children to success no matter the consequences, but to possibly humiliate their child in front of a group of their enemies?
Regina rolled her eyes in response, and Emma reevaluated her initial thoughts about the humiliation part of her musings. "If you are asking my intentions, mother, they're quite simple. I plan on joining Ms. Swan for dinner on Friday night assuming we can rid ourselves of the Pan by then. And, think of it, I've never made a fool of myself by chasing after the person I'm infatuated by."
That stung. Emma ducked her head to her chin for a brief moment, catching the eye of her fidgeting son as she did so. Tucked under Regina's arm like a parcel, he had very little wiggle room to maneuver away from the one he deemed 'evil'.
Cora sniffed the air in a delicate fashion that only seemed to further amuse her daughter. "I raised you to be obedient and respectful, Regina," she threatened in a low, rough voice, her fingers dancing in anticipation at her sides.
"And I've let you live in my home without paying a dime since Daddy died," Regina retorted easily, releasing Henry with a small shove towards his blonde mother. "To say that your typical routine isn't going to work today would be an understatement, but if you insist-"
Fireball! Fireball! That was one big ole fireball!
Emma squirmed, unsure of whether running was a feasible option or if she should just apply the standby of Stop! Drop! and Scurry Out of Harm's Way! She liked her buns un-toasted, thank you very much.
"But I told my son that I was trying to change for the better, so this is going to have to wait," Regina continued, fireball disappearing from her palm with a small whoosh of smoke that fluttered harmlessly through the air. "If you're quite done, mother, I'd like to inform everyone of the newest developments with the Pan. As Ms. Swan and I have already had one run-in in with the creature, I would like to inform all of you that-"
"Why should we believe a word you say?" Charming, of the Princely sort, asked with a raised fist, as if he would really land a blow on a woman who could disappear and reappear with his neck held in her grasp. "How do we know that this isn't just an elaborate plan to betray us and then kill us in our sleep?"
For a few seconds, Emma was reminded why Regina's moniker was the Evil Queen. The glint in her eyes, directed, thankfully, at Prince Charming at the rest of the accusing eyes from Team Beta was nothing short of terrifying. "The Pan is really out there," she interjected, stepping forward and placing herself in the middle of the fray (as stupid a plan as that was). "He threatened the children of Storybrooke. And," a deep breath, "he threatened to eat me, too, if I got in his way."
Not strictly true, but none of them were there and Regina didn't seem too keen on calling her out on her obvious Pan-baiting.
"See? The Savior believes I have no intentions to kill you in your sleep, which," Regina paused and took the time to roll her eyes at the implication that she would do something so...banal. It was boring, unimaginative, and she had not earned the title of the Evil Queen by being such. "Is ridiculous. If I wanted to kill you, Charming, or you, Snow, I would do it in such a way that I could watch the life leave your body, not while you were having pleasant dreams of bunny rabbits and rainbows."
"Guys, please, just listen to Regina," Emma offered. "The Pan is a threat to every single kid in Storybrooke and if he manages to eat one before we find his shadow-"
"He'll be nearly indestructible, dearie," Rumple finished for her, broken, for the moment, from his quest to regain the love of his beloved. "I could offer my assistance...for a price, of course."
"I swear, if you say Belle I will kill you. Dagger or no dagger, I will find a way to rip your head from the rest of your body and drop it down your precious well." The Savior clenched her fists and swung in the direction of Rumplestiltskin, ire rolling through her veins freely, and then she winced at the sight of the rest of her team's expressions. And her son. Henry stared at his blonde mother with the same sort of accusation that laced his interactions with Regina and, well, it stung. Really, really stung. "Completely figurative, though. I wouldn't actually, you know."
"As cute as this is, there is still the issue of finding the Pan's shadow so he may be destroyed." The Evil Queen stepped forward with all the confidence in the world captured in her step as she addressed those around her like she would to lowly peasants. "Ms. Swan and I-"
"Charming and I should go," Mary Margaret broke in, loudly. "We can find the Pan's shadow and then bring it back here."
"Enlighten me, dear, how do you propose to catch the Pan's shadow once you locate it?"
The pixie-haired brunette frowned and thought about the question for a minute, looking altogether too puzzled by the question to have a passable answer in the works.
Regina nodded slightly, the barest tilt of her head in Mary Margaret's direction. "That's what I thought. You haven't had the distinct displeasure of interacting with a Pan. They're tricky creatures, Ms. Blanchard, and that is why you won't be involved in the retrieval process. Rather, I believe you might be quite handy in surveillance of the diner, should we choose to use it as a home base of sorts. That, of course, assumes that the children will either be brought here or the parents take exclusive responsibility for them and remain in their homes." She eyed the blonde and her son. "As I was saying before I was interrupted, Ms. Swan and I will take point in finding the Pan's shadow while Henry remains in the wolf's care."
"I should go, too," Neal said with conviction as he rose from his seat. "I am one of Henry's parents, after all, and if he's in danger then...well, I should go, too."
"That's fine with me, dear." The Queen shrugged her shoulders and smiled (read: bared her teeth like a hungry wolf) at Neal. "At least now we'll have bait to dangle in front of the Pan should he choose to confront us, and provided you don't give him indigestion, you might be a good bargaining chip should the need arise for one."