Emma Swan hated cleaning. Despite her hatred for the task, she sighed and rolled her eyes. It had to get done. Plus the dirty kitty litter was starting to stink up not only her bathroom but the rest of her small one-bedroom apartment. Feeling determined, she attempted to wrangle her blond curls high on her head into a messy bun, one that never actually contained her long hair. She moved one more bag of trash to the front door, preparing to take them out, when something knocked into the bags and caused her to fumble to catch them from tipping over.
"Woah, Ginger, no! Not right now..." Emma waved her hands at her orange tabby cat, fending her off. The cat, who had not been playful in the last year, had seemed to take on a new personality with the stormy weather the last few days. Luckily, it wasn't raining too hard at the moment so Emma could make a run for the dumpster.
"Okay, Ginge. You stay warm, momma's taking out the trash." She undid her falling bun, threw her hair into a low ponytail, planting her foot behind her. Cold air drifted in, her mostly zipped, light blue jacket doing little to keep it out. She adjusted her grip on one of the bags, one in each hand. She couldn't wait to shed her clothes after this track event to take a hot, well-deserved shower. Taking a deep breath, she launched into a sprint, the door slamming behind her.
Two large trash bags, two attempts to prop up the large disposal unit and chuck them in. Bag number one went in without a hitch, bag number two… wasn't so lucky.
Emma cringed. The bag had split open, a few dinners that had gone off and a litter-caked mess tumbled to the ground. Emma looked around, scanning for prying eyes. If she left it, would anyone know it was her? She wasn't the only person with a cat in the small cul-de-sac. It could easily be pawned off on someone else.
As she contemplated trying to be a good person and at least maybe try sweeping it aside, something bolted through the bushes in her periphery, disappearing behind the building. Her eyes tried to follow it, but it was already gone.
Emma took one last look at the spilled trash and crossed her fingers. She dumped what she could and went to round the building. When she glanced around the corner, whatever it was that she saw had indeed disappeared. She shook her head and went to turn back to her door, not looking where she was going this time, almost wetting herself when she ran into a person.
"Fuck! I am so sorry." Emma looked up and saw that the woman looked familiar but she couldn't place her. Was she dating one of the guys upstairs?
The woman in front of her had dark hair cut just above her shoulders, deep brown eyes, and lightly tanned skin… if only she could figure out where she knew her from.
"Regina?"
Well, apparently her brain knew who this was.
Wait, Regina? As in Regina Mills the actress? There was no way Regina Mills would be lurking around her unimpressive complex.
The woman's dark eyes widened in fear, her head whipping around trying to survey everything around them. Trembling hands slowly came up to put space between them.
"Do I know you?" she asked warily, taking a step back.
Emma mirrored her position, putting her hands up in surrender. If this woman was Regina Mills, she certainly didn't look like a celebrity now. Her hair was unkempt, she had scrapes across her skin, her clothing looked rough and a far cry from the designer labels that must have graced their tags.
"Hey, Woah there. I didn't mean to run into you, I wasn't looking. You just look an awful lot like…" Emma started to laugh but the woman's eyes narrowed.
She started to walk backwards, then halted before taking a cautious step forwards.
"Can I… use your phone?" A pause. Then a desperate, "Please."
Emma's smile fell and she nodded. "Of course. My apartment is number 2…"
She barely got the door open before the woman barrelled in, almost tripping over Emma's cat.
Emma scrambled to pick her fluff ball up and out of harm's way, glaring at the brunette.
"Hey, Ginge, you're okay," the blond huffed at the rude intruder, wondering what she had gotten herself into this time. The woman standing awkwardly in her living room did look like she was about to apologize when they both heard a car screeching down the street.
The blond rushed to close the door and engage all of the locks. Flipping on the TV, she saw the brunette woman start to panic. Emma put her finger to her lips as she held her phone up to her ear and started talking, presumably to no one, gesturing her guest towards the bedroom.
Just as she lost sight of her unexpected guest, she heard a loud banging coming from her front door. Startled, Emma yeeted her phone into the abyss. She tried not to choke on the lump in her throat. They were just solicitors, right? That's all they were, just annoying. She tried to keep her voice steady as she yelled, "Come back later! I'm on the phone! As I was saying, Snow…"
She crouched down to pick up her phone, dialing the police as her hands shook. Except someone must have beaten her to it, because there were sounds of sirens approaching. She blew out a sigh of relief.
"Shit!" a man hissed, his voice muffled through the wood of the door. "We gotta go, man! We'll find her. She must have kept running…"
Emma remained still, listening to the slamming of car doors and screeching of tires as the vehicle took off. She remained there until the sirens faded, until there was only the pounding of rain. She reached a hand out to steady herself on the couch and delicately lowered herself to the floor. What the fuck was happening?
Regina dove under the bed when she heard more loud banging on the door. The space underneath the bed was tight and her frantic breathing wasn't doing much for her comfort in such a small space, but at least she was hidden. She closed her eyes and prayed to whatever might be listening. She didn't want anything to happen to the strange blond woman who had let her into her home. When did her heart start clawing out of her chest? She couldn't breathe…
Her skin prickled at the memory of hearing her name from an unfamiliar face. She had learned to push that crawling feeling down over the years when she was working, but it always reared its ugly head when she was alone, in her personal life.
She felt her stomach tighten as it wanted to roll.
Emma took a while to calm down. It felt like a whole day has passed since the people who banged on her door had fled, and her unexpected guest had yet to come out from wherever she was hiding. She figured maybe some coffee could help lure her out, as it seemed like they both needed it.
Was she still here? Had she even been real? Emma pulled out a larger mug, battling with thoughts that questioned her current sanity. She really needed to stop staying up so late.
Once her system returned to normal, her mind started to fixate on who might be currently hiding in her bedroom. She moved back to the couch and grabbed her phone, switching it to silent mode and looking over her shoulder as if she was anticipating this mystery woman to pop out and seize her from what she was doing. Seeing that the room was silent, she turned back to her phone and typed in Regina Mills. Her jaw dropped.
"No fucking way!" She looked between her phone and the hallway too many times before slamming her device face down on the coffee table. She couldn't move until she heard her cat dive under the bed, followed by a small yelp. And though her nerves were still on edge, she took what she hoped was a calming breath as she moved towards the dark room that was meant for mediocre sleeping and not hosting world-famous actresses.
She expected to see the woman sitting on her bed or on the floor, but she was nowhere to be seen. Emma walked over to the closet and threw open the doors, her cat zooming over to the one place she was not allowed to go, just making it past Emma's foot.
"You little shit…" Emma glanced into the darkness, wondering if she could spot her cat but gave up quickly. She left the doors open and turned away just as a bag began to rustle. Maybe she wouldn't pee on anything this time, Emma thought. The cat just hated it when things didn't smell like her. Too bad they missed putting that fun little detail in her adoption file…
Emma looked at her bed again skeptically. What would she even say when she came face to face with Regina again? She knew she was good at sticking her foot in her mouth and now seemed like not the best time to be winging it. Everything she thought of saying just seemed to miss the mark, so before she could overthink it, she knelt down, pressing her cheek to the floor to see into the cramped space beneath the bed.
"Hey princess, I think they're gone. You okay?"
Why the hell did she call her princess? Emma inwardly cringed. She tried to shake off the awkward moment and watched as the brunette's chest rose and fell rapidly. She felt her own body tighten in response to observing Regina's panic attack. She didn't want to admit it out loud but she could relate, and she really hoped that staying calm and quiet would help. "You can come out now… do you need any help?"
The brunette opened her eyes slowly, hot tears streaming down her face. Each breath came out in quick succession.
Regina glanced at the blond, but no words came out. She shut her eyes tight. What was happening? Where was she again? She felt faint and like she might throw up. She made the mistake of looking up and seeing how far or, in reality, how close the bed frame was from her face. Her pulse lost whatever sense of calm she thought she was gaining. She was going to die, she just knew it. This is what she got for being so naive, so desperate to please, so weak. She should have just said no when a strange man approached her and asked for a photo.
On instinct, Emma reached out her hand, slowly wrapping her fingers around fidgeting ones, lifting them away from their attempts at securing themselves in the carpet. When dark eyes connected with Emma's, she could tell the brunette had no control over the tears that were falling from her eyes, nor her fear. "It's okay, they left." said Emma. "They have no idea you're here."
The brunette nodded. She attempted to calm her breathing, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry."
Emma laid down and got more comfortable, feeling exhausted from the adrenaline rush. "It's ok. I mean, I was scared as shit, but someone called the cops."
Regina's hand gripped hers back and they just stayed there a while. Regina's heart rate was slowing more and more by the minute. Emma had zoned out when she felt something poking her.
"Hello? Uhm, can I come out now? I'm sort of… stuck." The brunette tried to move a little and illustrated her point. She couldn't move far.
Emma blinked her eyes blearily. She would have felt embarrassed if she had been more with it. The blond moved back and helped pull the brunette out. The latter, however, did look a bit embarrassed, as she settled herself upright.
Regina was about to speak when Emma beat her to it. "So, don't freak out or anything, but I'm a fan. And you might find a poster or two around somewhere. I feel like a total creep right now…"
Regina smirked and actually let out a small laugh. "Ah. Creepy stalker fan, huh?" Clearly, she seemed to be relaxed enough that she must be joking, but Emma's cheeks still burned red.
"Don't be so cocky, it's not like you're that hot…"
Regina's smile widened as if she knew the true answer to that statement. She leaned closer to the blond.
Emma stuck out her hand, keeping her eyes on the floor. "Emma."
Regina extended her hand out to meet Emma's.
"Regina... Mills. No pictures, please." She added a wink at the end. Emma didn't know if she was in heaven – or hell.