For a savior, Emma looked particularly ordinary in her current state. Sprawled out on the couch, Regina had taken special care in removing her boots. One by one, she'd slipped them off and set them down neatly. A throw blanket was draped over her lithe, slumbering form and she'd managed to wiggle her feet out from underneath. Her toes peeked out of the front end.
To the blind eye, Emma looked like an overgrown child.
Ironically, said woman also happened to be the mother of her son. She kept telling herself that was why she cared. Because of Henry.
Speaking of which, he was going to be late for school if he didn't get a move on. One of his friends was coming by to get him, so that they could walk there together. Regina was mentally preparing a speech of self-awareness and precaution, despite the fact that Charming taught him how to handle a sword.
"Henry, you're going to be late!"
It was then that she heard a loud groan, peering out from the kitchen where she was preparing Henry's lunch to see a large mass hidden under the blanket.
"Rise and shine, princess."
Emma kicked the blanket off and gave Regina a sharp look, before stretching her arms above her head. Henry always did the same exact thing, because he wasn't a morning person either. She called it his stink eye.
"How are you even awake and so, so... ugh!"
"Immaculate? Perfect? An inspiration? It takes years of practice, Miss Swan. You don't just wake up one day and look this good."
"Do you even feel a little bit like crap?"
"Absolutely not. You forget that I'm a queen, dear. We don't feel such things."
Huffing over dramatically, Emma muttered something along the lines of "you don't feel anything" or "the queen of being a pain in my... ow."
Okay, so maybe the latter was more accurate, considering that Regina's mind did a lot of self-loathing on its own.
The nameless wonder decided to make its appearance, paws scuffing and skidding against the linoleum floor as it leapt up on to the couch. Emma was jolted into a sitting position, turning her head to acknowledge the loud mouth breather with twitching lips akin to something of a smile. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.
"How much do you remember about last night?"
Emma's lips parted, but no words slipped out. She looked like a fish out of water. "I think... that it's way too early to be asking these philosophical questions."
Regina rolled her eyes, handing Henry his lunch as he bounded down the stairs, said his quick goodbyes, and ran out the door before either of them could change their minds. So much for the speech. Moving over to the couch, the mayor sat down between the blonde and the mutt.
"Now what?"
"Now you get up and get dressed, before I reconsider your position in this town, sheriff."
Emma grinned at the other woman, but she moved far too quickly into a standing position and doubled over, rubbing furiously at her temples.
Regina hated seeing her in this state. Without much preamble, she reached over to brush some hair behind her ears, before wrapping her free arm around Emma's waist. Guiding her into the kitchen, she sat her down by the counter and started up some tea. The savior wrinkled her nose at the smell, but said nothing. They sat there in comfortable silence as they waited.
"Mickey."
Regina looked up from her desk, quirking a brow at the sheriff's words. It took her a minute to pick up on her thought process, but when she did... oh, she almost preferred to be blissfully ignorant.
"Absolutely not. That's a boy's name."
"Michaela isn't. C'mon, Regina, it's gender neutral..."
"You do remember that I've asked you not to address me that way, right?"
Emma's eyes narrowed at the sharp tone, unaware where she'd gone wrong. Then she understood: she was being too formal, in public. "And you do remember the other night when you asked me to call you - "
"Enough!"
With her chest heaving underneath her royal blue suit jacket, the mayor of Storybrooke stood and slammed her hands against her tabletop. "I've had enough of you and your insolence. This is not a game, Miss Swan. You don't get to hold my personal life over my head. I do not owe you anything. We are done... done!"
To her credit, Emma tried not to appear as startled and confused as she felt. "What's done? Because you have made it perfectly clear that there is nothing going on here. You invited me to see Henry's play... you brought me coffee... you chased me down and got into my car." They were standing nose to nose, each of them on opposite sides of the desk.
Neither of them spoke, but the tension was thick in the room.
"Get out."
Emma didn't waste another second. She got into her yellow bug and sped off, leaving Regina behind to stare out the window. The first place that she stopped at was the pet shop, where she got Mickey's name engraved and a new collar. It had been roughly two weeks since they found the dog. If someone wanted her back badly enough, they'd be knocking at her door by now.
After pitching the idea to Henry, she was pleased to find that her son agreed with her suggestion and tried to teach the dog to respond to her new name.
It wasn't completely fruitless, but this really had nothing to do with the dog. It was an act of pride. Much like the fact that Emma waited up all night to see the look on Regina's face when she walked in, but never had the opportunity.
Regina Mills didn't come home that night.