A/N Hi there! As I tend to do with the other series I've written regarding these "lost scenes" between our favorite ladies just a reminder that even though the story can be perfectly well be seen as linked with the previous one shots it doesn't need to be perceived that way.
With that said…. I will go silent now, just a reminder that I love comments!
PS: What did you think about 6x02? Personally I loved Lana as Regina and the EQ and it was amazing to finally see Emma talking about what means for her actually "being" the saviour. Pity that the next ep seems so keen on focusing on a certain pirate...

A bitter draught

If I don't help people, then who I am?

It was the sound of heavy footsteps what startled Regina, brown eyes falling on a shy smile and greys and whites outlining sharp shoulders and strong arms she found herself wishing for. Blonde tresses caressing pale cheeks as the chill of mid-September breeze reddened an otherwise pale nose. Voice reaching next, coming breathy and coy and yet brazen in a way only the woman in front of Regina ever could sound. "Hi."

She was drawn against the light Granny's dinner threw on the black pavement that surrounded the place and paved the road and Regina found herself blinking away unable, completely unable, to not notice how beautiful she was. Her arms reached for the lapels of her own jacket, cold already grabbing her flesh between the seams, a similar and tired smile reaching her lips as the feather touch of a cold hand caressed her shoulder, fingers digging on her skin, just enough to make her sigh and wait.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to reach you before."

The words were raw, broken at the edges and bitter, lost and rumbling. And Regina knew, knew the truth behind the words, knew that Emma's blood was pumping through her, into her, felt the strength of the woman's hold and the implicit silence that surrounded that voice, that voice she felt drawn to. Because she knew, she understood and so she turned towards the blonde, shadows casting down the woman's profile lips full and quivering, already ready to be told away.

"It wasn't your fault." She found saying, whispering as she hugged herself, as she closed the jacket around her, hands as cold and fragile as Emma's own seemed to be, fingers slowly prying away from her shoulder, taking with them a warmth Regina felt as she swayed. "She already figured out that I would call for you, you couldn't…"

"But I should have." And those were the words that clawed on Regina the worst, the way Emma's voice seemed to climb before falling back again, eyes void and green. So green she wanted to look at them only to reach for the emeralds at the other side. She shouldn't though, so she didn't.

A Hero she was, a Hero she had been called, the Savior. And yet Regina saw regret and calculated loss, the one she knew Emma was at peace on considering it. Which hurt, hurt because Emma bleed fire and she knew far too well what was to be called something she didn't even thought about, she didn't even want to think about.

"Emma" She said instead, her voice a warning, one single signal she knew Emma wouldn't hear, would pretend that wasn't there because that was she would do; to throw herself and jump and look back only after it, after everything. Because she wasn't a runner but a survivor and it was the tint that seemed the same but wasn't, the hue she felt painting the blonde's pupils, inkling on something else.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there." Emma answered, arms now reaching for her own sides, fingers threading on the white fabric, greys and blues floating away on her eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't save. That I wasn't the savior." She said behind the words, the ones she didn't dare to say but Regina found written there, between the silences and the sounds, between the truths she felt coiling on her stomach. And Emma was too much of a fire, was too much of the static feeling that kept running down and up her chest, that kept writing bolts of lightning inside her own magic, to keep herself silenced, even when she wanted.

And Regina knew she should blink away and so she did, tongue heavy on her mouth and teeth clattering away, eyes set on the road in front of her, nails biting on her skin, Emma's arm at her side, close, way too close. Because she was enchanting, she was much more than the words Regina would ever think off and she was the savior in a world that needed to end. Or a world that claimed for it. Blood and loss.

Because red had been Emma's color, red and white and green and the greys she felt, fell strange on her mouth, on every new breath she took in. Mist and magic and remorse. And Regina knew what it was, and what it wasn't, and how Emma wasn't the responsible for what had happened, for what it would happen. But yet, she needed to talk, to explain, and so did she.

"You should wear red more often." She heard instead, voice not as jagged yet full of bitter tiredness. "It suits you"

Now

And magic burnt and twisted and twirled and waited and Regina let her hands rose and fall, a single tress of hair safely being tuck away as she turned towards Emma, lips dry and throat aching, just aching, when she swallowed and sighed, knowing, sensing.

"Is more your color, I doubt people will take kindly on me if I steal your red jacket." Regina's voice was less strong than before but she saw the smile and the smirk, the way Emma's back seemed to relax as something like a flash run down her features for a second.

And Regina knew about Archie, knew the first words the man had directed at her, the questions she had needed to face and so she sighed and pinched the hem of her shirt, cold, far too cold, and far too light, far too red. And there were shadows at their feet and on Emma's eyes now and yet they were green and full of stars, stars Regina found herself counting to.

"I knew you liked my jacket." It was easy and light and yet grey but Regina nodded and offered her own voice, her own words for the charade, starving Emma eating them out as she played them, as if rehearsed and yet so true.

"I wouldn't say that "like" is the correct term for it." Which wasn't and yet Emma was gold now and shadows and emerald and it haunted her.

Still she knew better, she knew the steps and the fragility of every part of them and so she smirked and thought again on green eyes and threats that didn't hold themselves anymore, on nightmares and wishes and Emma fell silent at her side, not cold anymore but warm and hot and soft in curves she did find herself wanting to understand. Because Emma hold and gave, always gave.

"Call Emma."

Because she knew, she knew and so did Emma, so did her evil part, so did the light that came skimming from the dinner and so knew her magic, her blood, the power that surged through Emma. Like electricity she too was able to feel, to sense.

Because there was silence and there was this.

And it wasn't enough because there were shadows and hues and colors she didn't want to look at and yet there were but that wasn't the moment. Not with Emma, not with herself.

So she turned and looked at the blonde, ichor and silence, quirking her lips as she muttered one simple sentence. "Want to go inside again?"

Emma nodded.

And it was true, Regina found herself thinking; red suited her.

And whites and greys.

So she walked. And so did Emma.