Regina was depressed, and when she felt blue, she played Klezmer music. She was home alone, rehearsing in her soundproof studio, her back turned to the open door. Henry was meeting Emma after school and wouldn't be back for a couple of hours. Regina knew that the night before, he had dragged her to the quartet's concert, but she hadn't met the blonde woman at all – Emma had disappeared before she could even leave the stage – and that ending had left her strangely disappointed.

Regina admitted that it was probably her fault. She had quite lost control of her power game. Seducing people to wrap them around her little finger was nothing new to her, but rule number one was to never get attached, for god's sake! Thinking about someone obsessively, actually sleeping with them all night and waking up in their arms, giving a damn about their opinion as to her playing, well, that hadn't happened to Regina since… Since Daniel, a little unwelcome voice reminded her.

Since Daniel, she had always been careful to keep her personal relationships and occasional sex partners neatly separate. Or maybe it was more accurate to say that she had practically stopped bothering with personal relationships altogether. Romantic love was something she was through with. But with Emma Swan, she had let things get out of hand. As much as she wanted this relationship not to exist, there was a primary one that couldn't be denied – the one between Emma and Henry. For Henry's sake, Regina had to be at least civil to Emma. Sex should have remained out of the equation. Yeah, it had been a bad idea. Definitely. Well, not bad, but… And the snuggling on top of everything! If Emma had decided to avoid her from now on, it was all probably for the best. And yet…

Hating herself for being so weak as to yearn for human companionship and intimacy in spite of her best judgement, Regina definitely felt blue. As she did in such cases, she played traditional Klezmer tunes on her violin until she felt better. The songs helped her cope with her overflowing emotions, because no matter how melancholy a Klezmer tune is, there's always a secret spark of joy ready to ignite underneath the surface – and vice-versa. And today, Regina really needed a dose of that medicine.

As a warm-up, Regina played the well-named "Dance of Displeasure" in a loop for a little while, going crescendo and faster and faster, and started feeling a little better. Still facing the window without really watching anything outside, she played another tune, stolen from the great Klezmer fiddler Alicia Svigals, "Romanian Fantasy N° 1". The song was so beautifully bittersweet that it ripped her heart out and soothed her aching soul at once.

Rapt in her playing, Regina turned around, slowly pacing the studio's carpeting – and nearly jumped out of her skin, surprised in the middle of an intricate gust of lilting semiquavers by the presence of an intruder leaning against the doorframe.

"Miss Swan!" she said icily. "I haven't heard you come in. I nearly dropped my bow!"

Regina could have happily killed Emma right now. How dared she show uninvited and disturb her in such a private moment? How insufferably rude! Regina lowered her violin threateningly, ready to skewer the invader at the tip of her bow.

"S—sorry." Emma said. "I—I didn't mean to disturb you. The door was open, and…" Her voice was low, a bit hoarse. Shaky, maybe?

Regina loved a good fight, but there seemed to be no fight in Emma. It wasn't fun. Still holding her violin in her left hand and her bow in the right, she came closer to get a better look at her. "Are you all right?"

There was a trail of tears on each one of Emma's cheeks, and her eyelashes were still wet. Emma wiped at her face impatiently, flushing pink with embarrassment. "I'm fine!" she mumbled.

"What's wrong?" Regina insisted, walking up to Emma again after carefully putting her instrument down in its case.

"Nothing," Emma confessed, mortified. "You play so beautifully it sounds like a human voice, and that tune was so incredibly sad and yet full of joy, I just got a bit emotional hearing it, that's all."

"Oh," said Regina, raising an eyebrow, "Well, thank you Miss Swan!" She was actually quite pleased with the compliment. Emma was already undone – there was no point in tearing her apart anymore. While Emma was discreetly sniffing the last of her tears away, Regina asked, "But what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with Henry?"

"I was," Emma agreed. "But he said he needed to pick something up from his room first, and since I was in the neighbourhood, I was supposed to meet him here. And then I got a text from Henry. He says there's been a delay on his subway line and he'll be late."

"Well, you two can make up for it some other day I guess," Regina mused. Now was the time to get rid of Emma Swan with a few chosen words. Emma's spontaneous appraisal of her talent had tugged at Regina's vanity though. As Emma seemed about to leave, Regina added on an impulse, "I was about to make myself a cup of tea, would you care to join me? You can wait a little for Henry if you want."

Emma seemed surprised. Regina expected her to decline - there was no way Emma was a tea drinker - but the blonde woman, shrugging, replied "Why not? I'd like that, thank you!"

There was a bit of awkwardness between them as Regina filled the kettle and put the teapot, teacups, saucers, spoons, napkins, sugar, milk and lemon on a tray with a plate of homemade butter shortbreads. Regina was a meticulous housewife and a very good cook. The tea was ready in no time. When she turned around after filling the teapot with the perfectly heated water, Emma was gazing at her with a strange look on her face.

"What?" Regina asked.

"Nothing." Emma replied, averting her eyes.

"Seriously," snapped Regina with a hint of impatience, "What's wrong with you today? Is there something you want to talk about?"

"Hm," said Emma, "Sorry again, I'm kind of… In fact I don't get it. You were fantastic last night. I've never heard anyone play like you! And the way you were playing ten minutes ago, it's like… I can see the real Regina. I know it's probably the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard, but it's just… How come you only care to show who you really are in your music? You're so awesome!"

There were many ways to understand what Emma had just said, and Regina could easily have chosen to take it the wrong way. But it was a good thing she wasn't holding the tea tray yet because she might have dropped it. I can see the real Regina. Nobody had told her that since… Since Daniel, the little voice reminded her mercilessly. For all of her mother's lecturing, Daniel was always able to see through Regina's acts of cold aloofness, saying that the more she tried to hide the wonderful, warm and generous person she was, the more it showed in her music. I can see the real Regina when you play, darling. I can hear her voice. She had never fooled him, not for a second. But then, the only time Daniel had ever hurt her was the day he died. How come Emma of all people could see through her just the way Daniel did?

The Regina who had unwittingly asked Emma to join her for tea when she could have dismissed her in no time was dumbstruck for a moment. She thought about laughing the assumption of "the real Regina" away with a flippant, "Nonsense, my dear!" but then her eyes met Emma's, whose honesty and openness tugged at the part of herself that had just been called "the real Regina".

She sighed and thought, but didn't say, the real Regina can't live in this world – she's too weak to survive. Instead, she cupped one of Emma's cheeks with her hand, and looking her in the eye, let her thumb softly stroke her face for a brief moment, smiling sadly. "Come on dear," she said, taking the tea tray. "Let's have tea."