Chapter Three
Once Henry was in bed, Regina's home became a place of solitude. She could pour a glass of wine, work in her study for a couple hours, and catch her beauty sleep without any interruptions. The house was still, quiet, peaceful. Regina could hear a mouse before it took three steps (and kill it brutally but efficiently before it took ten).
She could definitely hear a television set.
Regina's eyes narrowed as she heard the unmistakable sound of canned laughter. It was unthinkable that Henry was the culprit, which left Ms. Swan. (Oh, she might be Sheriff Swan now, but she'd never be Sheriff to Regina. Not in her head.) Regina thought they had an excellent system worked out last night. Once Henry was asleep, Regina retreated to her study while Emma went out. They hadn't heard or seen each other the rest of the night.
Naturally Ms. Swan had to upset the apple cart. Like she had the apple tree. Getting up from her desk, Regina stormed out of her office and down the hall toward the living room. What she found offended the very image of what the Mills house should be like.
Emma Swan sat on HER couch, watching HER television. Her back was to Regina, but her left arm snaked along the top of the cushions, clutching HER – was that a BEER? Regina never served that swill in her home. Wine was dignified, and spirits were appropriate when something stronger was called for. Beer was for riffraff and peons.
Regina looked at the TV screen. On it, a voluptuous young brunette, wearing a garish yellow waitress' uniform that even Ruby wouldn't be caught dead in, was bickering with a scrawny blonde.
"If men were the ones who got periods, tampons would be thrown from floats like Mardi Gras beads."
A cheap, tawdry joke, which naturally Ms. Swan appreciated. Her lip curled on pure instinct. Moving forward, Regina prodded her with one insistent finger. "Sheriff."
"Ye-agh!" Her tormentor nearly rolled off the couch, she was so surprised. Thankfully for the carpet, she managed to save her beer. "Jesus Christ, Regina! What the fuck?"
"What are you doing?"
"I'm watching television, what do you THINK I'm doing?" Emma asked rhetorically as she settled back onto the couch.
"I can see that! Must you make such a racket?" Regina retorted.
Emma looked disbelievingly at her. "The volume is at 25%, and I'm not much for belly laughs. I think you're exaggerating."
Regina snorted. "What is this crap, anyway?"
"It's, uh, '2 Broke Girls'. I missed it last night, so I'm watching it On Demand." As if to prove it, Emma began rewinding it to the point Regina tapped her.
"Let me get this straight," Regina said. "You like this garbage so much that you can't even miss one episode."
"It's not garbage, it's funny. And it's popular too," Emma said. "You've never heard of it? Let me guess, you only watch PBS and the History Channel."
"For your information, I don't watch television," Regina informed her.
Emma continued to look amazed by the words leaving Regina's mouth. "You don't watch TV? At all? Then why do you have a television set?"
"For Henry, of course. I'm not an ogre."
"No, ogres have layers, and you're a bitch all the way through," Emma snapped.
Regina could feel her nostrils flare, as if she was an actual dragon breathing out smoke. She didn't understand the reference – ogres had layers of dirt, maybe – but she certainly knew when she was being insulted. "Turn it off. Now."
"No," Emma said.
"NO?"
"I'm a guest, remember? You're not being a very good host."
"Guests normally do not provoke their hosts either!"
Emma sighed. "Look, I'm sorry I called you a bitch. But I'm finishing my show. You can go back to your office, or you can relax a little, pull the stick out of your ass, and watch the rest with me."
Regina glared at her. "Fine," she said at last. "I'll never get anything done anyway with you laughing like a hyena. But it goes off afterwards."
"Fine, whatever," Emma replied, shrugging. She took a swig from her beer bottle.
"And where did you get that?"
"I bought it."
"Just take it with you when you leave, if you have any left."
Emma coughed. "Uh, yeah, no, I'll probably buy more before the week is out."
Regina shook her head and sat on the couch. It was then that she noticed what Emma was wearing. Her eyes popped.
"I bought this too," Emma said cheekily, noticing where Regina was looking. "You said no Ellie Mae Clampett."
"I didn't mean for you to dress like a madam either," Regina said, scandalized.
Emma was wearing a silk red nightgown with a matching dressing robe. It looked expensive, high-end, not something you acquired at a Target. It wasn't revealing, and it wasn't too short. It was still extremely provocative. It was something you put on right before you lit the candles and scattered the rose petals.
"Guess I'm not the flannel type," Emma replied, smirking.
Regina made a disgusted noise. "Don't wear that around Henry."
"Of course not," Emma said, annoyed. She hit PLAY before Regina could respond.
"This is vulgar," Regina said five minutes later. "It's not funny, and it tries to hide that fact behind edgy dialogue and risqué, oversexualized juvenilia, like schoolboys sniggering during recess as they huddle over pictures of a naked woman."
Emma had paused it again in mid-rant. "I know you can't WAIT to reassert your superiority over me, but would you mind waiting until there's a commercial? I can't hear them over your ego."
"Oh, so you don't agree?"
"It's . . . a little vulgar," Emma admitted.
Regina pointed at the screen. "That woman – "
"Max."
"Is pretending to smoke a tampon!"
Emma shrugged. "They can't all be Family Ties."
Regina sighed.
The worst part, however, came a minute later.
"Wait until you see Occupy Tampons. We only protest once a month, but it's an intense five to seven days."
The laugh surprised her, bubbling up unexpectedly from within. It almost slipped out, but with a Herculean effort, she managed to swallow it, turning it into a clearing of the throat.
Regina glanced at Emma. The smug grin told her she wasn't fooled. The mayor flushed, said nothing, and excused herself to get a glass of water. "Don't bother pausing it."
When she exited the bathroom and returned to the living room, Regina was angered to find that Ms. Swan was now watching a completely different show. "What's this now?"
"Shh, 'Storage Wars'," Emma said without taking her eyes off the TV screen.
"We agreed that when your dirty little sitcom was over – "
"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I saw it was on."
"Emma – "
"Ten minutes. I bet you can't stop watching after ten minutes."
"I am certainly not – "
"Backing down from a challenge?"
Regina growled and sat.
Ten minutes later she halfheartedly glanced back at the hallway. "I should get back to work."
"Oh, so you don't want to know if Brandi's locker is worth more than Jarrod's?"
Brandi, as it turned out, was the clear winner. Regina had her own triumph at last, when she stealthily stole the remote from where Emma left it. Seeing another episode was about to start, she swiftly turned the TV off before it sucked her in with its – however it sucked her in, it wasn't happening again.
Emma chuckled. "Sorry. I have a book upstairs."
"Henry has crayons if you need them."
It was Emma who scowled at her now. Regina smirked.
"Let me ask you something," Emma said then. "Is Henry in advanced classes because he needs it, or because you want him to?"
Regina blinked, thrown by the non sequitur. "He got nothing but straight A's. I thought he would appreciate the added challenge."
"I think he'd appreciate a few friends more."
"Excuse me if I think the most important thing our son can get from school is a top-notch education, not a couple pals."
"Regina, I don't know if you even remember high school, but in my experience, the kids whose families have the most wealth and power are usually among the most popular students. Other kids gravitate toward them because they have the coolest stuff, the biggest houses, and the nicest cars."
"You sound envious."
"I was in and out of foster homes," Emma reminded her. "I was envious of everybody. No one seems envious of Henry, though. Why do you think it is that other kids avoid him at school?"
Regina sneered. "Let me guess, it's my fault."
"It is, actually," Emma said, and Regina snorted. "Most people are afraid of you, Mayor Mills, and their children pick up on that. They're not going to have anything to do with this family. And you only make it worse by putting him in classes with older students. Don't you realize you're isolating him from everyone else?"
"So I should just let him waste his potential in easy classes," Regina said, ignoring the tight feeling in her chest. Of course she realized she was isolating him. What was the point in letting him make friends? He'd only outgrow them all.
It was galling to admit that she had an imperfect understanding of how the Curse worked when she cast it. She had assumed the aging process would stop for anyone within city limits. She had assumed Henry would remain a baby forever – needing her totally, loving her unconditionally, blissfully ignorant that Storybrooke was stuck in time.
Instead, to her dismay, he had started growing.
The curse also prevented the townspeople from noticing that time had stopped, and for the longest time, she assumed THAT portion of the curse worked on him. Ever since he got that damned Book, though – perhaps he had realized. Perhaps that contributed to him hating her.
Whether he noticed or not, the fact remained that he would grow older, and other kids would not. It would be better for him if he never wondered why his best friend was suddenly three years younger than him. She wasn't altogether proud of this fact, but she had subtly thwarted every attempt he'd ever made to become more than acquaintances with someone.
It would be better for him in college. He would have to leave Storybrooke for a first-rate university, and for the first time he'd be able to have the same classmates four years in a row. He'd meet a girl. She wouldn't approve, of course, but he'd marry her anyway, and live somewhere far from Maine. And perhaps absence would make his heart grow fonder for her.
"I'm not saying that. I don't know what I'm saying. I can tell you're trying."
Regina almost missed those last few words, and she felt shock when she processed them.
Emma just nodded and stood up. "I just think you're trying WAY too hard."
It wasn't until the guest bedroom door closed that Regina moved. How dare THAT WOMAN judge her.
You invited her here precisely for that reason. You asked to be judged. Almost like you care.
The errant thought made Regina grind her teeth. She didn't care what Emma thought of her. She just wanted her to be wrong.
Further work was pointless. Regina quietly went upstairs, hoping to fall asleep immediately.
That, however, proved difficult. Especially with the 'Storage Wars' theme stuck in her head. Money owns this t- goddamnit!
Regina noted with some satisfaction Wednesday morning that, once again, Emma's bedroom door was closed. "Shame, shame, Sheriff," she murmured. "I guess you're not cut out for this life."
For the second straight morning, she pounded on the door with the heel of her palm. "For God's sake, Emma," she said loudly. "Do I need to schedule a wake-up call for you?"
"What?"
Regina paused. That detestable voice hadn't come from the other side of the door. It had come from . . . downstairs.
She scowled. She so hated it when Emma defied her expectations. She'd been doing that for all of Storybrooke since she arrived, and it would only upset everyone more on the day she inevitably let everyone down all.
Everyone except her, of course. She loved being proven right.
Entering the kitchen, Regina discovered that not only was Emma up and dressed, but she had even made coffee and poured cereal for Henry. "I thought you couldn't cook," she said.
"I can brew just fine," Emma said, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
The corner of Regina's lip curved upwards. Waiting for Emma to look her way again, she faked a yawn.
Emma's answering yawn was clearly NOT faked, and much louder.
Regina chuckled.
Instead of bristling, though, Emma just smiled sheepishly. "Breakfast of champions," she said, raising her coffee mug and drinking.
She didn't even get annoyed. Well, that was no fun.
"Is this a trick?" Emma asked that night. "I've eaten here many times, and I don't remember seeing you two have dinner here once."
"It's not a trick," Regina said calmly. "Granted, it doesn't happen often, but sometimes I don't feel like cooking, and Granny's Diner has the best food in Storybrooke." She looked down at Henry, obviously daring him to deny it.
Henry sighed. "It's true," he said. Emma thought he was going to add something, but whatever it was, he held it back.
Ruby came over to where they waited. "Mayor," she said, as casual with Regina as she was with everyone else. "Table for two?"
"Three," Regina replied.
Ruby blinked. Then she craned her head to look over Regina's shoulder.
"Ruby," Emma said. "The three of us."
"Riiight," Ruby said. "You and the Mayor. At the same table."
Regina glared at her. "Are you going to seat us, or NOT?"
Shaking her head, Ruby grabbed some menus and brought them to a table in the center of the diner. "I'll be back in a minute," she said before vanishing into the kitchen at high speed.
Emma shrugged. "I guess we do make an odd dinner party."
"Indeed," Regina said, reading the menu.
"What?"
All three of them looked up. It had come from the kitchen, and sounded suspiciously like Ruby's grandmother.
Regina muttered something to herself and retreated behind her menu again.
As Ruby took their orders, still looking at them like they were from the planet Neptune, the Diner slowly filled up. Emma couldn't help but notice that everyone who walked in seemed to find her table endlessly fascinating. "I feel like a museum exhibit."
"Why, because you're old and wrinkled?"
"At least I'm not the one carved out of stone," Emma shot back.
Henry snorted. Emma was a little troubled by how much that had sounded like his adoptive mother.
"Well, it's obviously you," Regina said. "We're not treated like a spectacle when it's just Henry and myself."
"Maybe if we got along a little better, people wouldn't react this way."
Regina's smile was bright and utterly false. "Why, Sheriff, that's very ambitious of you. Expecting to still be in town the next time Henry and I eat here. But we both know you never stay in one place THAT long, don't we?"
Emma wondered if it would be bad form for the local Sheriff to stab the mayor in the hand with a fork. "Who knows?" she asked. "Maybe I'll be here long enough to run for YOUR job."
"I bet you'd win, Mom," Henry replied.
"Thanks, Henry," Emma said, continuing to stare into Regina's eyes as her smile shriveled and died.
Fortunately, Ruby chose that moment to arrive with their dinner before Regina could stomp on Emma's foot with a stiletto heel.
Regina regarded Emma's cheeseburger distastefully. "I hope there will be leftovers," she said. "If you continue eating dinner like you have the past two nights, my cupboards will be bare."
"I think your food budget can handle it," Emma grumbled. "Besides, it's not my fault you cook for ten."
Henry just ignored the endless sniping back and forth and ate his chicken fingers.
Even Mary-Margaret seemed to be taken aback when she came in, and she KNEW Emma was staying at Regina's house. "Et tu, Mary?" Emma asked when she came over to their table.
"Emma, Henry. Mayor," Mary added, almost like an afterthought.
"Ms. Blanchard," Regina said.
Emma thought Regina hated her, but she realized that was nothing compared to the utterly poisonous stare that Mary was currently receiving.
Mary seemed to wilt under her glare. "I'll just, uh, go to my table," she said, before hurrying to the back of the diner where Ruby waited.
"What is your problem?" Emma hissed.
"What?"
"She is my friend and your son's favorite teacher, and you treat her like dirt! What did she ever do to you?"
Regina looked like her head was about to pop. "I don't know, Sheriff. Maybe I just don't like her taste in reading materials."
Emma rubbed the bridge of her nose. She could feel a headache coming on. "I'm going to speak to her for a minute. Maybe, I don't know, make her feel welcome."
"Well, the little doormat should know all about welcome," Regina snapped as Emma got up.
"You have no people skills, do you?" she heard Henry ask Regina as she left.
"Sorry about that," Emma said as she sat across from Mary. "How are you doing?"
"Fine," Mary replied unconvincingly. "I just wish I knew what she has against me."
"Has she always been like that with you?"
"For as long as I can remember."
"Huh," Emma said. "She implied it was because you gave Henry the Book."
"Well, I'm sure she didn't like me any MORE because of that," Mary said. "But I don't regret it. He needed an escape."
Emma looked down at her hands. "Yeah, well, uh, about that. I thought I should warn you."
"Warn me? About the mayor?"
"No, um, about Henry. See, he's gotten the idea that you're Snow White – "
"Right."
"And David is Prince Charming."
Mary's cheeks turned red. "Oh?"
"And since Snow White and Prince Charming are supposed to be together, he wanted me to help break up David's marriage."
"Wh-what?" Mary asked after a brief silence.
Emma sighed. "I'm just saying, don't be shocked if he comes up to you after class one day with plans for Operation Homewrecker."
"Oh. Oh, yes, of course, sure," Mary said. "Because it would be wrong to interfere in David and Kathryn's marriage."
Poor Mary.
"Where did you get that Book, anyway?" Emma asked, trying to change the subject. "It looks really old. I hope it wasn't some kind of family heirloom."
Mary laughed weakly. "No, nothing like that. Actually, I hadn't owned it for more than a month. I bought it at the pawnshop."
"Mr. Gold's pawnshop?" Emma asked, for some reason getting an unpleasant tingle at the base of her spine. Maybe because she didn't enjoy the thought of Henry owning anything that had once belonged to Gold.
"Well, we don't exactly have a Barnes & Noble yet," Mary pointed out.
"True," Emma said. "Well, I guess it's true, I don't . . . actually, I would have had no idea if Storybrooke has one or not if you hadn't told me." It was rather embarrassing, now that she thought about it. She was the new town sheriff, and there were still parts of the area that she'd never visited.
"Storybrooke doesn't really have much in the way of chain stores," Mary said. "The City Council has always opposed them. Something about 'spoiling the quaint, historic beauty of our home'. Something like that."
"And by the City Council, you mean Regina."
"Who else?"
"Uh-huh." Emma pondered that. She certainly didn't believe in a Curse, but she did wonder about Regina. It was almost like she was trying to hide Storybrooke from the world around it. Which made no sense, you couldn't do that in the modern world.
Unless like Henry, you believed that nobody ever came, and nobody ever left.
If Emma wasn't careful, she might find herself believing all this hocus-pocus talk before she knew it.
To be continued . . .