A/N: Thank you guys for your patience and continued support for this little story. The kindle I write on BROKE, and I LOST this entire chapter just as I was about to finish it, meaning I had to start from scratch and try to reproduce it from memory. Here is the first half of the lost chapter to keep you busy; I hope to have the second half up early next week.

On a more positive note, I just released my latest novel, Winter Jacket 3. If you're interested, the original Winter Jacket is available for FREE on Kindle for the next few days. I hope you'll check it out and happy reading!

In such a disorienting city, it had been too easy to seek out the familiar, even if it came in the annoying, yet equally distracting form of Emma Swan.

This would be the last time, Regina told herself. She'd get to the bottom of this Walsh business before returning to Storybrooke, but she'd do so while keeping her distance from Henry and Emma. It was the right thing to do. The selfless thing to do. Regina snorted to herself. It was the heroic thing to do.

"What's so funny?"

Regina looked across the table at the woman in the stunning green dress. "Nothing," she quickly corrected. "I was just thinking about this trip. It's not quite what I expected when I came to New York."

"You never have said what brought you to my fair city." Emma leaned forward in her seat at the small table for two. The motion caused her dress to dip demurely in the front, yet Regina couldn't help when her gaze came to rest on the other woman's attractive collarbone and the conservative amount of cleavage the fitted dress allowed.

After the awkward reluctance of either woman to say good night, they'd made their way back to the rooftop bar of Regina's hotel. With the late hour, they were two of the only few patrons left.

"Mayoral meetings," Regina routinely replied. She absently stirred her mixed drink with the tiny black straw in her well glass.

"That much I know," Emma noted, "but what exactly are those?"

"It's about as interesting as you'd imagine," Regina remarked. "A bunch of bureaucrats in suits talking about budgets, and schools, and utilities, and how to fix potholes."

"Did you always want to be a mayor?"

Regina licked at the faintly visible scar at her upper lip. "No. But it was a kind of familial expectation. I come from…" she hesitated. "…a long line of mayors."

"But do you like it?" Emma pressed.

"It has its perks," Regina admitted. "As you may have guessed, I like being in charge."

Emma smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yeah, you do seem to have a talent for that."

"And yourself? Did you always want to be a bailsbonds person?" Regina turned the question around. She knew much about the Savior, but certain holes in her life story existed. Regina had never really had the opportunity to pry. She and Emma had only just reconciled their differences or at least had come to an understanding when Regina had sent Emma and Henry away in that yellow tin can of a car.

"I kind of fell into it," Emma said. She dropped her eyes to the tabletop. Regina remained silent, sensing the other woman wasn't done speaking. "I was looking for someone," Emma continued. "I had a rough childhood, and I wanted to track some people down from my past when I got old enough to do something about it. In the meantime, the job kind of fell into my lap in the meantime."

Regina spoke without meaning to: "Your parents."

"How'd you guess?"

Regina made a noise in the back of her throat. "I put the pieces together. You mentioned something about it on our way back from the play."

Emma cradled her glass in both hands and looked directly into the drink as though it were a wishing well. "I was orphaned," she stated quietly. "Never knew them. Bounced around the system."

She spoke in short, staccato fragments as though it took too much to speak in full sentences. "God, I don't know why I'm even telling you all of this." She shook her head and laughed self-consciously. "Even Walsh doesn't …"

Regina reached across the table and grabbed Emma's fidgeting hands to still them. Dark hazel eyes met emerald irises. "I'm so sorry, Emma."

The new memories she'd given Emma and Henry had been an attempt to right some of the harm this woman had endured because of her blind drive for vengeance. But despite her best efforts, some hurt could never be undone. She had still cursed Emma to a parentless childhood.

Regina blinked rapidly, feeling the telltale sting of fresh tears in the corners of her eyes. She abruptly stood, nearly upsetting her chair. "I-I'll be right back," she said thickly.

Emma looked up through heavy eyelashes. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course, dear," Regina smoothly lied. A smile appeared on her painted mouth. "I just need to freshen up in the bathroom."

Regina lengthened her stride to escape to the safety of the women's restroom. It was a small room with one stall and a mirror that hung over a single sink. She dead-bolted herself inside after checking beneath the partitioning walls of the bathroom stall to make sure she was alone.

Her fingers curled around the sides of the white porcelain sink, and she stared at her reflection in the mirror. What was she still doing here? Why couldn't she rid herself of Emma Swan's company? She had only planned for this to be a short visit – to ascertain that Emma and Henry were doing well—and then to return to Storybrooke. She had to get back; a year was missing from her life.

"Say good night," she told her reflection. "Stop hiding like a coward; stop delaying the inevitable."

She stood to her full height and flicked a hand through her dark hair and pulled the skirt of her clinging dress back in place. It was time to move forward.

The heels of Regina's heels struck loudly on the concrete floor as she left the bathroom and walked in the direction of the table where she'd left Emma. Her eyes narrowed in displeasure when she spotted the blonde woman, but saw someone else had taken her seat at the table for two. Her heels click-clacked with increased aggression. I leave for a minute and some man has the audacity to take my place, she scowled to herself.

From her distance, she couldn't make out the man's features. She noted the medium sandy brown hair, groomed facial hair, and a long leather jacket. But as she closed on the table and the stranger's face came into focus, Regina ducked behind a pillar. Her heart jumped into her throat when she realized she knew the man seated across the way from Emma.

Hook.

Regina peered around the large column to observe the two without notice. Hook leaned across the table and cast furtive glances around at the bar's other patrons, no doubt keeping an eye out for Regina's return. She couldn't see Emma's face or even determine her body language beyond the erect seated pose and the straightened shoulders. This was no coincidence. There was no way Hook had stumbled upon them. He'd been following Emma, but for how long and to what purpose, Regina didn't know.

She fished her phone out of her clutch purse and pulled up her most recent contact.

"This had better be good," Ursula growled in a voice thick with sleep.

"So sorry to disturb your beauty sleep, but we have a problem," Regina declared.

"You're about to have a problem if you don't have a good reason for calling me at this hour," Ursula snipped back.

"Killian Jones is in New York."

"Hook?"

Regina had momentarily considered that perhaps the two sea-faring persons were in cahoots, but Ursula's voice revealed true surprise. "I'm watching him talk to Emma right now."

"Oooh," Ursula cooed. "Is that jealousy I detect, your Magesty?"

"Hardly," Regina snapped. "But now there's two noisome men whose presence in Emma's life much be eliminated before we can return to Storybrooke."

"Hook and who else?"

"A man named Walsh. I don't believe he's all he's advertised."

Ursula laughed into the phone. "They never are, honey."

If not for Walsh, she'd be returning in the morning before she could do more damage. The longer she remained in New York, the greater the chance she had of ruining Emma and Henry's opportunity to find happiness.

"I think he's from our world," Regina noted. "He's a shape-shifter of some kind. He reeks of dark magic."

"But there's no magic in this world," Ursula protested.

Regina thought back to the dark alley and the white crackle of energy she'd experienced. "I had thought that, too," she said, quietly reflective. "But now I'm not so sure. Regardless, before we can return to Storybrooke, I have to make sure Emma will be safe from this person."

"What's the story with this Emma woman?" Ursula pressed. "Why do you care what happens to her?"

"She's the birth mother of my adopted son." It was the least complicated way she knew how to explain their situation without getting into prophesies and saviors and curses and happy endings. Ursula knew very few details and she preferred to keep it that way.

"You have a son?"

Not anymore. "I told you I'd changed," Regina stiffly replied. "Walsh knows I suspect something, but he'd never notice you."

Ursula snorted. "Thanks."

"Hook must know I'm in town, otherwise he wouldn't have waited until I left the table to talk to Emma. But he doesn't know that I know he's here," Regina thought out loud.

Regina watched the heavily eyeliner'd man slip a small piece of paper across the table. Emma opened the folded-up slip of paper, but her body blocked Regina's view of what the piece of paper said.

"You want me to kill this Walsh person?" Ursula asked.

"No. Nothing that drastic." Regina frowned. When had she gotten so soft? An earlier time and a different version of herself would have immediately eliminated Walsh without a second thought. "Not unless it's necessary, at least."

"What did you have in mind?"

"I'm really not sure. As long as I can be assured he's out of Emma's life, I'll be satisfied."

"Still sounds like jealousy to me, dear."

"You need not concern yourself with the reasons behind what I do," Regina spat out. "The sooner these men are out of the way, the sooner we can return to Storybrooke."

By the time Regina hung up with the sea queen, Killian Jones was gone and Emma once again sat by herself.

Regina plastered a bright but cautious smile to her face when she returned to the table. "Sorry about that," she apologized as she sat down in the seat Hook had only moments before occupied. "I hope you weren't terribly lonely."

"Luckily I had Jack Daniels to keep me company." Emma shook her tumbler glass, and the ice chunks jingled inside.

Regina studied Emma's face for some sign of recognition or any noticeable change in her body language. Was Emma playing her? Did she have her memories back? Regina readily dismissed her concerns. Emma Swan was no actress, but she needed to find out what was on the piece of paper Hook had given her.

A uniformed waiter appeared at their table before Regina could begin to probe. "I'm sorry to interrupt, ladies, but the bar is closing for the night."

Regina glanced at her watch. "Goodness, I had no idea it had gotten so late."

Emma stood and straightened her legs. Regina noticed her rake her fingers through her long chaotic blonde curls-a nervous, involuntary movement. "I guess this is the part where we say our goodnights and goodbyes."

"There's alcohol in my room," Regina blurted.

Emma arched a pale eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"I just mean there's a mini bar," she said less aggressively. "We don't have to, but if you were interested in one more drink, we could go up to my room."

Regina hollowed her cheeks and waited for Emma's response. If they had been in Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest, she would need only to snap her fingers to produce the mystery slip of paper. In this world, however, everything took more time and effort, for which she did not have the patience.

"Lead the way."

TBC