Chapter 8
x
"Tell me another, tell me another!"
Her mother gave her the side look that says she wanted to do otherwise but Snow gave in, not before pointing a warning finger to her daughter and saying, "Just one more, Emma, and then its bedtime."
Emma grinned. "Yes, Mother!"
"Choose your story, my dear."
"I want to hear the story about the Dark one!"
Snow creased her brow and looked past Emma's blonde curls into her large, hazel eyes. She had always known Emma was a special child; so different from the other princesses. Instead of dresses, the little girl's tastes leaned towards baggy pants. "I'd run easier with it," she says and Snow and Charming acquiesced, because it made her happy. During cooking classes, Emma would brandish the ladle about like a sword and caused much disturbance, claiming she'd rather be saving the kingdom than staying in the castle. They had been worried at first, why Emma would be so different from the daughters of the Kings and Queens of other lands. But as time passed, Emma's acquired taste just made her more uniquely Emma.
At such a young age, it was obvious what little Emma wanted to be and what aspirations she had for her own future; and Snow made a mental note to herself to provide her daughter with the necessary resources when she got older, sixteen maybe, no matter what she chose.
"You mean Rumplestiltskin? Well, if you please."
"Thank you!"
Giving her daughter a fond smile, Snow started her story and Emma dug under the covers as usual, staring at her mother's lips as they moved smoothly with every pronunciation of a syllable and alphabet. She had heard this story countless times, almost as much as the story of the Evil Queen (but she still liked the latter story more). She had always enjoyed hearing about the evil things all of them had done but questions still bugged her.
"Mama?"
Her daughter asked once the story was finished. "How did Rumplestiltskin become the Dark One? And how did the Evil Queen become evil?"
"Oh honey," Snow said, smoothing a hand over Emma's golden crown. "Why do you want to know?"
"I just want to," Emma gave an indignant reply.
Snow struggled for an answer, it was not as if she spent every day wondering the transition Regina went through; she already spent enough time defending her kingdom from her evil motives.
"Well… I guess some people change for different reasons, and those reasons might deem acceptable to them, but not to others."
Emma frowned. She did not understand, and she spent a long time pondering the statement. Even after her mother blew the candles out and left her bedchamber, Emma sat and stared into the darkness and wondered.
Do people really change, or have they just finally dared to embrace another side of themselves they never really came around to accept before?
x
The loud smack on the table jostled Emma from her sleep and she jumped up to see Graham towering above her, arms folded and an eyebrow raised.
"I tried shaking you," Graham shrugged. "You were murmuring in your sleep, crazy nightmare?"
Emma rubbed her forehead lightly. She had been having that recurring dream from her childhood for the past few nights and it had been haunting her. It was so vivid and detailed; almost as if she had been transported back in time to relive the moment. Emma had tried her best to remember the memory when she in her conscious state, but it was only in bits and pieces, never as detailed like the one in her dream.
It must have happened before, Emma proposed. She was too young to remember but something in her gut made her feel so. Mr. Gold had told her that although not believed in, there are remnants of magic in this world. But the amount is so small that it either took a huge amount of faith or a catalyst to activate it. The dream was definitely a work of magic, but where did it come from? And why?
"I guess," she replied. "I don't really remember much of my dreams."
Graham studied her. "Are you okay, Emma?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"You seem a little… off, nowadays. Monotonous, I would say."
Emma smiled and shook her head. "You're thinking too much, I'm perfectly fine. In fact, I'm very happy."
At this, Graham grinned and pulled a chair so that he was facing the blonde and he leaned forward eagerly.
"Right, the date with the Mayor. How did it go?"
The blonde's mind whirled back three days ago. Their date had gone averagely well she'd suppose, although she did not go through the trouble of making huge preparations. Emma had decided that taking it slow for the first date would do the trick, and she had been right. When Emma had arrived at the mansion that evening, she could tell that the brunette felt overdressed for the occasion when she saw the blonde in usual attire.
"Shall I go back and change?" Regina had asked hesitantly and Emma shook her head.
"You look beautiful either way."
The words sounded so real when it slipped her tongue and Emma saw the brunette smile; something that was rarely directed at her.
Although it took some persuasion, Emma had finally managed to get the uptight Mayor into her Bug and she drove them back to the place Regina left not long ago, the picnic basket stored safely in the backseat.
"Why are we back at my office?"
The tone had obvious disappointment laced with it but Emma said nothing, only lightly grabbing the brunette's wrist and leading her.
In retrospect, Emma praised herself for coming up with such a genius move. She had no time to prepare for anything, seeing that she had only decided to start the ball rolling – that is, by asking Regina Mills out on a date – somewhere in the early afternoon the day after she took her heart out. So with haste, she had only prepared easy food – which consisted of sandwiches, packet drinks and fruits, and the picnic blanket. And what better place to enjoy this than under the Evil Queen's beloved apple tree behind her office at City Hall?
The look on Regina's face said it all and Emma could tell Regina thoroughly loved the simple meal and private time they had together, even though the Mayor's taste might seem exquisite at first glance. Small, albeit careful, conversations were exchanged and Emma knew that this evening spoke volumes despite the amount of words exchanged.
It was one small step from her but one large leap for the both of them. When Emma walked the Mayor to her porch after their picnic dinner, she had not wanted to push any boundaries. But to her surprise (she knew she would be if she had her heart), Regina was the one who initiated the hug. It lasted two seconds longer than a friendly one should, and Emma hugged back, appreciating the other woman's curves (how had she not noticed Regina was so petite before?).
Emma knew she should feel satisfied with how well the night went; but all she could think of on the drive back was what to do next. That was all she could do – thinking. Otherwise, there was only nothing.
"Enjoyable," Emma spoke when she remembered to answer. Then she leaned in just as close.
"Why would you wanna know? Is somebody jealous?"
With widened eyes and hands up in defence, Graham only laughed. "No way! I'm just glad someone else is distracting the Mayor. God knows how much I want her to get off my back. Even a man needs his break, you know?"
Emma only smirked, reaching for the bottle of crackers on her table. Just then, the shrill sound of Emma's cellphone sounded, startling the both of them. Frowning, Emma glanced at the caller ID to see that it was Mary Margaret. It was late afternoon on a Thursday and strange for her roommate to call from the school, more so to even call the blonde knowing she was on shift.
"Mary Margaret? Did something happen?"
"Emma? It's Henry," Mary Margaret's frantic tone gave her nerves away. "He was caught shoplifting."
[-]
When she arrived at the shop, Mary Margaret had already rounded up her class to gather outside while they waited for the school bus to bring them back.
"He's inside with two other classmates," Mary Margaret had worriedly informed her.
She found them lined up in front of the shopkeeper, a burly man with a badly trimmed moustache, like convicts on trial. When the shopkeeper spoke, the gruff tone and lousy attitude turned annoying and Emma tried her best not to slap the man with a bag of mints.
"Damn kids," he muttered after Emma finished taking the statements. "Stealin' and tryna get away with it. Make sure ya do your job, Deputy."
It was a good thing he walked away after that, who knew what would happen to the man's limbs if she stayed for one moment longer.
"Two bags of Cheetos, really?"
Emma turned toward Henry and his classmates – a boy and a girl, to see Henry's look of protest.
"Emma, I didn't do it," he pointed toward the other two. "They did it! They framed me."
"We did not!" The other brunet boy shot back.
"You guys are siblings, of course you would say that!"
The blonde scanned her eyes between the three of them. She hated to show favouritism in such cases but if there was one thing Henry never did, it was stealing. Even Emma had to admit Regina raised him better than that.
Arms folded, she asked Henry to step aside before turning back toward the girl, who until now had not said a word.
"Open your bag."
The hesitation and looks exchanged between brother and sister further proved her gut feeling and Emma hardened her tone.
"Open them, now."
The boy relented and before his sister could stop him, he confessed.
"Fine! We did it, but-"
"I knew it!" Henry interrupted, throwing an accusatory glare at the both of them.
"Do what you have to do, Deputy."
The familiar sultry voice flowed into Emma's being like thick lead and she turned swiftly to face the Mayor, her thundering gaze fixed on the children as her arm protectively draped across Henry's shoulders. Emma did not know when the Regina had stepped in and witnessed her 'interrogation' with the kids but by the look of her face, it was long enough.
"No," The boy grabbed hold of Emma's wrist and she stunned for a moment. "Don't send us to jail!"
When Regina snapped her eyes back up to the blonde's, Emma could swear she saw them soften just a fraction when the brunette focused on her.
"Show them where thieves belong."
Emma said nothing, only looking toward the two children – Nicholas with an open display of fear (for the Mayor) and huddling behind his sister, who tried her best to look brave and defiant but Emma could see through that thin wall.
"Okay kiddos," Emma simply stated as she rounded behind them and gave a gentle push. "Into the car, we'll talk on the drive back to your house."
They knew they were busted and Regina cannot help but smirk as she watched the two children trudge toward the Sheriff's car, Emma stalking behind them. Oh she knew very well who had been the one who had taught them to steal, and a lifetime ago it had been helpful. Now however, if it involved her son, it involved her; and she definitely did not raise Henry to stoop to that level.
She started the car and made her way back with plans of giving calls to the school, especially to that Mary Margaret Blanchard, about such misconduct from students to their own classmates.
"Thank you."
The words came out soft and uncertain; but in the silence of the car, it screamed meaning and Regina turned toward her son and smiled.
"For what?"
Henry flicked his eyes nervously at her. "For sticking up for me and… believing me, I guess. Nobody believed me when I said that bag of Cheetos wasn't mine. Even Emma didn't seem to believe me when I told her."
Even though the relationship between Emma and her is gradually getting better (with all the constant texts between them like teenagers), Regina still felt a prick of jealousy in her heart when she saw Henry's head hung in dejection because of her birth mother's actions. But as quickly as it came, she pushed it aside.
"Emma was only doing her job, dear, I'm sure she wanted to get all her facts right before she makes any decision."
Henry looked at his adopted mother strangely. It was quite unlike for his mom to say a good word on Emma's behalf; even when Emma left the house after dinners during that first week, Henry still caught some breaths of complaints from Regina as she was cleaning up. He wondered if they had any other meet ups without him ever since their dinner together at Granny's.
"Are you and Emma friends now?"
She was lucky they were at a red light, Regina mused, for that question was enough to make her slam her brakes. It was a mostly a fear inducing question, instead of a shocking one. Regina found herself worrying whether Henry would object to the possibility of her and Emma in a relationship. But what was she even thinking? That was way too far into the future, or is it?
"I guess you can say that," Regina recomposed herself.
There was a moment of silence then Henry spoke.
"I like that, you know," He turned to face Regina. "You and Emma getting along; it's nice and it makes everything feel lighter."
She did not say anything, she didn't need to. Regina enjoyed Emma's company too – be it virtually or physically. Although the woman had an odd sense of humour and maybe some childish moments, there was no denying Emma was actually a genuine person at heart and Regina wondered why haven't she given the blonde a chance at first when the latter first came to Storybrooke. But then again, Regina strongly believed in the works of Fate – even if she did not show it. Maybe all these were just part of something bigger; something that included her happiness, and possibly Emma's too.
She could only hope Emma felt the same.
[-]
The blonde glanced warily at the two kids through the rearview mirror – whose full names she had learnt as Nicholas and Ava Zimmer – as she drove the Sheriff's car past the row of houses in the estate.
"So, which one is yours?"
The two did not reply and Emma pursed her lips, her patience wearing thin. They had been driving for close to an hour now and with every wrong direction from them, she felt played.
"Alright, that's enough!"
Emma slammed on the brakes and turned to face the two, who looked a little scared and unsure at her sudden change in demeanor, much to her delight.
"We already talked things through and I promised not to send you the station as long as I make sure you're home. So let me be nice one last time and ask you this: where do you live?"
It took some decision, but Ava finally said, "It's just at the end."
They reached the final stretch of the road and Emma could see an abandoned house standing out in comparison to the other well-furnished ones they had passed. She pulled up by the house and stared at it as if in disbelief.
"You… you live here? Where are your parents?"
"We…"
Nicholas started but stopped and looked toward his twin sister, scanning her face for permission to go on but Ava only sat with her arms crossed, staring at a spot outside the window.
"We don't have any," Ava replied, staring straight into Emma's hazel eyes.
"Why didn't you tell anyone?"
"We'll be sent away to the foster system and we... we don't want that."
Emma gritted her teeth. At least that had a modicum of physical pain accompanying it.
"I will have to inform Ms. Blanchard. Being your teacher, she should know about this."
"Please Ms. Deputy," Nicholas said with helplessness in his eyes, the very same kind that Emma used to harbour. "Please don't tell anyone. We don't want to leave each other."
It was a dull feeling; memories of a life long passed flashed itself in Emma's mind and she closed her eyes as she tried her best to rid it. What made her sick, however, was not the impact of the memories, but the emptiness in her heart. As she brought her stare back toward the twins, Emma tried her best to empathize but she could not even make a sound.
Everything should hurt; she remembered what it felt like to be scared and live every day with a constant worry on who would be the next victim of the consequence of the bottle. Instead, Emma only nodded.
"Don't worry, I'll try my best."
Even that statement lacked real motivation and it was obvious the twins held no hope as they left the car and scampered back toward the house.
Emma started the drive back with rationality as her newfound best friend, something she never used to prioritize.
[-]
"Hey."
The brunette stared back in surprise at the blonde on her doorstep and removed her reading glasses.
"Ms. Swan? What are you doing here?"
Emma gave a smile. "I wanted to see if the kid was alright and also because I missed you."
That sentence should not have such a huge effect on her but it did and Regina felt her heart fluttering, returning the smile as she stepped aside and allowed the blonde to enter.
"Henry was a little down, but he cheered up after I made lasagna for him for dinner. How did you handle the two children?" Regina asked as she led the blonde through the foyer into the dining room, preparing drinks for the both of them.
"Don't worry about them, it won't happen again."
Emma's voice suddenly sounded very near and Regina turned swiftly around to find the blonde almost inches away from her. Emma was looking at her with a look she cannot place and for a split second, Regina could not recognize the woman behind those hazel eyes. But then, Emma slowly moved in and the brunette swallowed thickly.
Between the both of them, intimacy had been an out of bounds topic. It had been so easy to sink into the throes of lust when they were on the edge of arguing all the time but now that they were actually getting to know each other better, it was difficult to attempt at physical contact without remembering where their previous touch on each other had led them to.
This time however, Emma was making a very bold move. Regina stood frozen in place, back against the edge of the table as she forced her eyes to bore into Emma's, before she relinquished and stared at Emma's inviting pink lips. Instinctively, Regina felt herself inching nearer toward Emma too, eyes turning half lidded as she waited for the moment of contact.
"Ms. Swan, I…"
As soon as the words left her mouth, Regina regretted it. Emma immediately pulled back and stepped away.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
She wanted to do something – anything that could make bring the blonde's presence back to her own, but Regina excelled in self-control.
"It's alright," Regina cleared her throat and handed the glass to Emma before deciding to move on to safer topics.
"So how is that budget report from the Sheriff's department coming along?"
Emma laughed. "Really, Madame Mayor? You want to talk about budget reports now?"
Regina raised an eyebrow. "Don't think that just because we're friends, Ms. Swan, that I would let you pass the monthly deadline."
"That's a pity," Emma mock sighed as she stepped closer. "I really thought we could be something more."
It had been said with a playful smirk, but Regina could hear the serious undertone that statement carried and her heart picked up all over again.
"We could be…" Her voice came out as a breathy murmur as Emma reached up to tuck a piece of loose strand behind her ear.
"Regina…"
Her name fell from the woman's lips like a song of awe and Regina reveled in it before she remembered to answer.
"Yes?"
"Call me Emma."
It was a very simple request and Regina wondered why she had never addressed Emma by her first name before. Maybe it had evolved to become a habit, but as soon as the name slipped past the tip of her tongue, Regina learnt that some habits really do can break within moments.
"Emma."
Emma smiled; she felt her muscles moving and stretching almost as wide as the ocean. She would kill or die – she couldn't decide which – to feel the moment right now. She imagined it would probably be a very sweet feeling, the sound of Regina's uncertainty on addressing her by her first name for the first time made everything much more adorable. But all she could do was smile. Was that a good or bad thing, Emma wondered. That was short-lived however, when Regina lightly coughed and Emma realised she had been silent for too long.
"Sorry," Emma smiled sheepishly. "It's just that there is so much endearment in the current situation I cannot choose which one to focus more on – you or the sound of my name on your lips."
She was never much of a sweet talker, but Emma found that without her heart, everything came much easier with a much darker motive.
Regina gave a sultry laugh. "I never took you as the one with the honeyed tongue."
"And I never took you as the one I would…"
Take my heart out for.
Emma trailed off as she brought a hand to stroke her cheek, and Regina found herself glued to the way Emma's lips slightly parted, as if providing an escape way for the emotions of the blonde to fill the space between them.
"Can I at least kiss your cheek?"
Biting her lip, Regina nodded and Emma leaned forward.
Regina shuddered involuntarily when she felt Emma's lips ghost across her cheek like a gentle caress, before they were firmly planted into her flesh. She had not wanted to, but with Emma, her actions always came out the opposite of what she intended them to. Regina brought her arms around Emma's waist and pulled her flushed against her own self, diminishing any trace of space between the both of them. When she felt Emma's arms returning the tight embrace, Regina's heart swelled and she felt herself blushing, turning to bury her head in Emma's blonde curls to in an attempt to hide from her own juvenile behaviour.
Then Regina felt Emma slowly pulling back and the gentle pull of her chin as Emma brought her head to face her before leaning forward again. Like a dying piece of earth, Emma planted kisses on every inch of Regina's face – her other cheek, nose, forehead and that space between the eyes, bringing nourishment back as Regina closed her eyes and sunk in the rare display of affection.
Her lips remained untouched however, and Regina could not help but feel a sense of loss at that.
"I really should get going," Emma said with a smile when she stepped back.
"But you haven't talked to Henry yet."
It was a feeble attempt at getting the blonde to stay Regina knew, and she hated herself for feeling so vulnerable but with Emma, everything was just so uncontrollable.
"I thought you should have realised by now, Regina, I came for you."
Regina felt her insides flutter at the open admission and she nodded.
"I didn't want to have false hope."
They stopped at the porch and Emma turned back toward Regina.
"With me, you will never need to worry about that."
Regina recognised an empty promise when she heard one, but the look on Emma's face was so sincere she desperately wanted to believe it.
"Goodnight, Emma."
"'Night."
And as Regina closed the front door and made her way to her bedroom, lost in secret smile and giddy with anticipation, she failed to notice how she had forgotten to clear their glasses of cider in the dining room, and how Emma's drink was left untouched.