III: Gonna Get with the Rhythm 'til the Morning Light

A/N: Apart from a few minor hard spots, this chapter was very easy to write. I hope you all enjoy it! A big thank you, as always, to my lovely beta KillerElephants.

~M

edit: My thanks to List of Romantics, who brought to my attention a glaring inconsistency of the finer points of firearm mechanics.

...

Later, after everything else had finally settled, the thought would pass through Emma's head to wonder if she'd been drugged. She fell into sleep remarkably easily, barely even remembering to put her gun beneath her pillow before drifting into blissfully dreamless sleep.

…

The broken shards of Henry's glass were dealt with easily enough, tossed in the bin without a second thought. She only wished Miss Swan could be dealt with the same way. The thought was tempting. She even hesitated outside the door the blonde was currently behind. But no. Instead, she gathered the used tumbler and her own glass from the study, washed them by hand and set them aside to dry.

Alone, with everyone else in her house asleep, Regina finally allowed herself to enjoy the quiet. And think. She would ensure Miss Swan left after Henry awoke, and then her town and her son would both be safe from her interfering, annoying presence. The presence of a Hunter. A shudder rippled down her spine. Just thinking of the damage a Hunter could do to the precious peace of her town sickened her. Especially one such as Miss Swan, who was obviously fueled by hate and her own pain rather than simple financial gain... Though all Hunters were always paid very well for their services. The job certainly came with its expenses, Regina supposed.

Suddenly, a realization bloomed into her mind. The idiot Hunter had disarmed herself on her porch. Probably without second thought to how long her weapons would be left or who might possibly see them. With near frantic speed, Regina leapt up from her chair and dashed towards the main door. With a quick glance up the stairs to ensure Henry was nowhere near, she opened the door and allowed the sunlight, even filtered as it was by her rows of hedges, to stream in.

She was out the door in a moment, and both relieved and alarmed to see the large pile of weaponry still in place on the porch. She sighed, a hand sliding up to the hollow of her throat and subconsciously toying with a ring she wore on a chain around her neck. It was a nervous habit; one she couldn't bear breaking herself of.

A tingle slid through her fingers as she bent to touch one of the guns. A deep spark of purple arced high from her flesh to the metal. She hissed, surprised, and jerked her hand back, eying the thing with renewed interest. An enchantment. Interesting. Perhaps Miss Swan wasn't as foolish as she seemed.

Something was moving. Close to her head.

Emma's hand flew beneath her pillow the same moment she jerked away, hand automatically clasping around the handle of her gun... that wasn't there. Eyes snapping open, Emma whirled to face whatever had awoken her.

She was met only with an amused smirk. "Ah," Regina chuckled, seated quite comfortably in a chair against the far wall. "You're awake. Good. You can explain to me what this-" and she held up the pistol in question with two fingers, as if it were some sort of dead rodent, "-is doing in my house."

Emma stared at it, her hands still beneath the pillow, as if unable to process that the gun was no longer there. "How the hell did you get that?"

"You left it under the pillow, dear."

She continued to stare, transfixed by the sight of her gun in Regina's hand. "No, how the hell are you touching it?! My guns are enchanted; no one but me can touch them!"

"Mhmm, I know," Regina purred, and seemed to inspect the gun more thoroughly, flexing her fingers over the handle. "Complicated, too." Looping a finger through the trigger guard, she allowed the gun to dangle precariously. As if she was going to drop it. "It took me an entire twelve seconds to break."

"...What?! What are you-" The gun started levitating. Emma promptly forgot the rest of her sentence.

Still wearing her smirk, Regina twisted her hand, the palm open and fingers slightly curved. Held by nothing, the gun turned in midair, as if on a revolving table. The mayor flexed her fingers, and the magazine suddenly popped out of the gun, falling from its held position into Regina's waiting hand. The pistol itself was pushed backward, near Emma. Almost close enough for her to take it, until Regina seemed to consider something. The safety of the gun clicked on, the chamber opened, and the single round still within the gun slipped out. It, too, made its way into Regina's hand. The gun, finally completely empty, landed on the bed next to Emma with a soft thud.

Green eyes almost impossibly wide, Emma felt herself swallow as she stared at the gun, and then at the woman who now held its ammunition. "You're a witch." And a powerful one, if she'd broken through the defensive spells. Emma didn't understand most of the inner mechanics of witchcraft, having neither the talent or patience for magic. But she knew that enchantments could only be broken by those stronger than those who had cast them. And her enchantments had been done by the most powerful witch she'd ever fought. Right before she'd killed her.

Regina rolled her eyes, but narrowed them into a glare lest she get any ideas. "You're incredibly observant, Miss Swan."

Magic was a dying art in the recent days of darkness. As it had been explained to her, magic was the essence of life itself. Like all life on the planet, all magic was ultimately fueled by the sun. This made it an incredibly effective weapon against vampires, but those able to wield it were stalked by vampire and Hunters alike. Vamps seemed to think magical blood was some sort of aphrodisiac- sweeter tasting and more addictive than anything in the world. And a vampire high on the blood of a witch was quite possibly more dangerous than anything else out there.

Wrinkling her nose, Emma reached for the weapon that was now only about as useful as a club. "Wouldn't have expected a witch in a town full of vamps," she said thickly, eying the brunette carefully. "Much less have one be the mayor."

"The citizens of my town know better than to attack any other citizen. Our laws against such things are... extremely thorough." Regina's eyes narrowed, "As you said, dear: we don't discriminate." She shook the magazine clip in her hand to draw Emma's attention to it. "As you failed to observe my wishes in my own home, you'll get this back when you leave." The tone of her voice, the 'Mom' tone, left no room for argument.

"That's not-"

"Not up for discussion, Miss Swan." Regina's eyes flashed in irritation, and for a tiny moment it looked as though they had darkened all the way to black before returning to brown. "Please remember: I have no obligation to you whatsoever. The only reason you are still in my house is because Henry wants you to be."

"But I-"

Not finished, Regina flicked her free hand absently through her hair, as if arguing with Emma had ruffled her slightly. "It's nearly sundown," she offered. "He'll need to feed. Unless you really want to watch that again," and the sudden look on the blonde's face revealed her to be correct in thinking she would not, "you can get yourself ready to go, and I'll bring him to say goodbye when he's done." Without even waiting for a response, the mayor turned and left the room, the clicking of her heels echoing as they crossed the floor.

"And get the rest of your armory off my porch," the mayor called over her shoulder.

...

She should, Emma supposed grimly, be grateful that Regina hadn't destroyed the enchantments on all of her weapons. She'd inspected them as soon as she'd gotten outside, the last glow of the setting sun gleaming off the metal. They didn't seem to have suffered any ill effects, and apart from the one gun clip now in Regina's possession, everything was still there. It was but the work of a moment to grab her satchel from the truck of her car, slide everything easily into its place, and then shut everything in the passenger seat of her car.

She glanced a little nervously at the sun, now sunk almost entirely past the horizon. This felt like an incredibly stupid thing to be doing. Putting her weapons away at night. In a town full of vampires. About to head back into a house with a witch and a ...Sunwalker, if said witch was to be believed. She pulled her two knives out, holding them thoughtfully in her hands. She shut the door with her rear, considering the knives. She knew she couldn't risk having her guns on her person in Regina's house again. But she certainly didn't want to be left completely vulnerable, either. Not when she knew the other woman was a witch. It made her even more anxious to leave this damn place.

Though... Henry... She still didn't know what to do about Henry. She couldn't just leave him here. But Regina... Regina was another problem.

She didn't get much of a chance to deliberate over it. The sun dipped. The town fell into darkness.

She was conscious of their presence only milliseconds before she was surrounded, only giving her enough time to shift the knives in her hands and stand in the most defensive position she could, back to her car. Her car with her guns inside it. Damnit!

The blurs of motion she was so accustomed to settled into maybe a dozen humanish shapes all around her. Skin pale and slightly glistening; mouths red with bloodlust. Fangs that could not be hidden. As opposed to Henry's, apparently. Though not all of them were vampires. Here and there were flashes of normal skin, eyes that flashed with yellow. Werewolves. Three of them, at least. And nine vamps.

She'd faced worse odds before, though not without her guns. The townspeople of Storybrooke had her surrounded. Not, apparently, content to simply let her leave.

"That's her," said the werewolf Graham. The circle tightened.

Eyes never staying in one place for long, Emma sighed. "I get it!" she growled out at the crowd around her. And at Graham. "I'm leaving. Right now. I'm gathering my things and I'm leaving."

There was a shift in the ranks, another whoosh of motion too fast to see as a vampire stepped forward. An eyebrow raised. "You're not," she said simply. "You won't be leaving here at all, Hunter."

Emma's teeth ground together. Her foot shifted, putting her weight on the balls of her feet. "Do you seriously want to do this now?" she hissed at the vampire. A pixie-cut brunette. Emma's knives raised defensively, arms crossed and eyes always moving.

The vampire came closer. Emma lashed out with the knife without a thought, slicing a long gash into the shoulder. Right through the pink cardigan it was wearing.

Shrieking as silver cut through her skin, the vamp fell backward, clutching at her smoking arm with wide eyes. The others didn't move, staring at the injured vamp with what looked like shock in their eyes. "Mary Margaret!" Another brunette, long hair streaked with red, rushed forward to hold the injured vamp. She growled furiously at Emma, yellow eyes glaring into her. And it was as the werwolf was tending to the already healing cut of a vampire that Emma made her first discovery about the inhabitants of Storybrooke.

They were soft. Unused to fighting. So why the hell were they attacking her? She swallowed, unable to worry about it now. Around her, the vamps were eying her, as if deciding on how best to strike. Vampires were not pack hunters. Wolves, however...

A blur out of the corner of her eye, and the long-haired brunette turned to her. Enraged and snarling, she threw back a red coat that had lain draped over her shoulders. Fur bristled into being over her skin, and her head threw back in a howl. From the other side of her, another wolf, already fully turned, burst through the ranks of the crowd. This one gray as opposed to the other's black. Gaining in confidence, the vampire she'd struck seemed to get over her injury, and turned back with a snarl. Emma had to fight back a groan. She looked down at her knives in disgust. "I hate knives," she muttered to herself. And then everyone, wolves and vamps alike, charged her.

Raising the woefully inadequate weapons, Emma struck out with one on each side, slicing through skin and hair alike. Blood, thick and sluggish, sprayed from the path of silver blades. None of her blows managed to be fatal, but she had no doubt that they hurt a hell of a lot. Howls of pain mixed with snarls of battle, but the Hunter paid them no mind, already onto the next threat.

She was just about to go after the pixie-cut vamp again when the energy around them dramatically shifted.

"Enough!"

The sounds all abruptly ceased. Emma found herself unable to move, her knives frozen in place in her hands. The crowd flew backwards, falling back of a volition not their own and leaving a clear path from the house to the blonde. All three wolves shifted back into human form at once, startled whimpers escaping and muzzles receding into lips.

The sound returned, but the citizens of Storybrooke stayed silent of their own volition, hands clasped around various wounds. Mouths clicked shut, once more hiding the fangs they could not retract.

Heels clicked on brick, and Emma knew who had pushed them back. "What the hell is all this?" the mayor asked, her voice only a little quieter now that everyone else had ceased talking.

The knives clattered from her hands, falling to the ground. And then Emma could suddenly move again. She watched with wary eyes as the mayor calmly and confidently walked through the parting waves of her people, coming to a halt directly in front of the blonde. Her eyes were blazing, once again completely black. Her face was pale with her fury. "What the hell have you done?"

Emma felt her blood freeze in her veins, staring at the mayor in wordless shock and fear.

From Regina's curled upper lip protruded a perfect set of barbed, glistening fangs.

...

Emma's mouth had fallen open uselessly. Her blood was pounding in her ears, her mind reeling with the impossibilities before her.

Regina was staring down at Emma imperiously. When the blonde seemed unable to answer, she whirled on those around her, demanding from the healing vampires and wolves. "Well?!"

It was the pixie-cut brunette who finally spoke up, her fingers finally leaving the edges of a mostly-healed slash. "A misunderstanding, I- I think." Her voice was hesitant, eyes shifting from Emma to the mayor. "We just came to... well, to-" she cleared her throat, and started again, pulling what appeared to be a contract from a folder tucked inside her cardigan. "...A Claim has been made, your majesty."

The mayor's mouth fell open in surprise. She looked at Emma, and then back at the other vampire- Mary Margaret, Emma recalled the werewolf calling her. "You cannot be serious," Regina almost laughed. "She's barely been in town for one evening! Who the hell could have claimed her?"

From behind Regina, a quiet voice perked up. "...I did, Mom." All eyes turned to fall on the form of Henry, standing just outside the door with Graham at his side. The wolf had obviously gone to get him.

Regina gaped at her son. "What?!"

And at the same time, from Emma: "What?!" She stepped close to Henry, catching a glare from Regina while doing so, but didn't stop.

Another vampire stepped forward, and Emma recognized him as one that had manned the gate with Graham the previous evening. "Last evening, I heard Henry very clearly state that Emma Swan was his. When Sheriff Graham asked for assent, she agreed." He turned to Emma. "That is what happened, isn't it?"

Emma thought back to the scene at the gate. 'You're Henry's?' Graham had said. She'd thought at the time he'd trailed off. But if her hadn't... her own response: 'Yeah, I'm his...'She'd meant to say 'I'm his birth-mother,' but she realized with wide eyes that she'd stopped. She'd never finished the statement, and in that sense... "Holy shit," she breathed aloud, quietly.

The mayor had approached the vampire now, and was shaking her head. "That doesn't mean-"

"The claim was made," a blonde woman suddenly interjected. Her eyes were human. Her teeth without points. In her hand, a long staff of wood with an impressive ball on the tip. Witch, Emma told herself quietly.

This new blonde smiled and actually dared to attempt to stare Regina down. "Heard and witnessed, by a representative of both werewolf and vampire, as required."

Regina bristled, stepping forward until there was absolutely no room between herself and the other witch. "Don't dare cite the Edict to me, Maleficent," she spat. "I was there when it was signed."

"Then you above all should know it, Your Majesty," replied 'Maleficent.' She dipped her head in apparent respect. Or a mockery of.

While Regina's attention was elsewhere, the female vampire with the pixie-cut, Mary Margaret, knelt on the ground next to Henry. She smiled at him gently, offering the contract to him. "Henry," she began. "Do you renounce the claim?"

The boy shook his head quickly. "No," he answered. Before anyone could stop him, he'd grabbed the pen and signed his name in big, blocky letters, to the bottom of the form.

"No!" Regina cried, racing to him faster than anything Emma had ever seen. But his name was already on the paper. She knelt before her son, taking him into her arms as if to shield him from whatever was going on. "He's eight!" Regina shouted, her voice growing a bit hysterical.

"The age of the vampire is irrelevant, your majesty.The claim is valid." Maleficent again.

Emma had had just about enough of all this. Without another word, she just started banging on the hood of her car, trying to get everyone to shut up. She was confused, and still surrounded by vamps, and still without her guns. Everyone fell silent. "Would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on?"

"Henry's claimed you as his human, Miss Swan." Graham offered helpfully.

Mary Margaret offered her the contract, and she took it with a wary glance.

"You can, of course, renounce it, Miss Swan," Regina offered quickly. Too quickly. "And return home."

None of the words seemed to make any sense. She was too keyed up from the fight and then seeing Regina and... she glanced at Mary Margaret in realization. "You were trying to hand me the contract when I..." the brunette nodded. "...Sorry. But you said I wouldn't be leaving town." She glanced down at the paper, skimming over it as much as she could. She gave up. It was all in legal-eze anyway. "If I renounce the claim... will I see Henry again?"

Mary Margaret spoke up before Regina had a chance to. "You'll be expelled from town."

"...Then... I don't renounce it." Before she could think better of it, she snatched the pen and signed her name, too. She didn't know the full ramifications of being 'claimed,' but if it meant she could keep seeing Henry, that was good enough for her.

A hushed silence, and the paper almost seemed to glow. It lifted out of Emma's hands and floated its way over to the grinning Maleficent. "It is done, then," she grinned, being careful not to touch the paper as it rolled and then put itself in a bag she was holding. "Congratulations, Henry. Miss Swan." The smile widened considerably, and fell upon the mayor. "Your Majesty."

The assembled mass slowly began to applaud. Emma kept close to Henry, still confused. The kid was beaming at her.

Regina looked as if she was about to explode. Sure enough, the nearest streetlight suddenly burst in a shower of spark and broken glass. Everyone stopped their hesitant clapping, startled. The mayor closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. "Right," she said quietly. Her eyes opened again, returned, Emma noted, to their normal brown. When she spoke, her fangs were gone as well. "Well, then. Since we're apparently finished her, if you'll excuse us now, please. Everyone." She glared pointedly at Maleficent. "I'm sure you have to file that?"

"Gladly." She turned, and a mass of smoke gushed out from her flowing, purple dress. In seconds, she was gone.

Regina took another breath, and glanced at the rest of the amassed citizenry. "Good evening, then, everyone," she forced a smile, and turned back towards her house.

She shot a glance at Henry and his birthmother, pausing mid-stride. "Inside," she spoke through clenched teeth. Nodding, Henry moved to comply, starting to head into the house without a word. Regina's gaze fell on Emma. "Both of you," she growled.

Wary and taking a moment to swallow the lump that was suddenly in her throat, Emma nodded, and followed her son into the house. Regina entered shortly thereafter, making sure that everyone else was leaving before she closed the door.

Henry tugged on Emma's sleeve, and smiled, giving her a big hug. Awkward, Emma allowed it, patting his back while keeping her eyes glued to the mayor.

She remained facing the door, as if unsure if she could keep from strangling something if she looked at them. When she finally spoke, Regina's voice was forced into quietness, edged with steel. She turned around slowly.

"Do either of you have any idea what you've just done?"