A/N: Hello, dear readers. Please enjoy this chapter of mostly sickeningly-sweet fluff - consider it the calm before the upcoming storm of wicked Zelena. (There's a little bit of the storm beginning at the end of the chapter. She's cruel: you have been warned.)

Please note, as always, that I do not own these characters, I am only borrowing them to make myself (and hopefully you) smile.

xx

Chapter 6: Bring It

When Emma and Mary Margaret walk into Storybrooke High School on Monday morning, they are both incredibly surprised to see the front office filled to capacity with very official-looking people. Among them, Emma sees Mr. Gold, obviously, Mother Superior from the convent, and Mayor Mills herself. Though she can't hear anything through the glass door, it's obvious they are in the midst of an intense argument.

"Wonder what that's about," Emma mutters. For an instant, she considers the possibility that Regina might have told the mayor about Zelena and Cora Mills showed up to kick some ass on her daughter's behalf, but she quickly dismisses it. Even if Regina was the type to run to her mommy, her mommy is not exactly the type that's easy to run to.

Mary Margaret shrugs. "We'll probably find out soon."

Sure enough, Regina is in the classroom already. She has her nose in a book, as usual, but she puts it down immediately when the pair walks in.

"Did you hear about Killian Jones?" she asks urgently. From what Emma has previously observed of the brunette, she's not much of a gossip, so this must be good.

Emma groans. "What did he do?" She's barely spoken to Killian - only observed him in her math and physics classes - but Mulan absolutely despises him, which tells her something because that girl never hates anyone frivolously. She never does anything frivolously.

"He didn't come to the study session last night," Mary Margaret says in a concerned tone. "He really needed the help with polynomials."

"I think he had other things on his mind - apparently he came in to work on something for woodshop yesterday and cut off his hand."

"His hand?" Mary Margaret looks mortified.

"On purpose?"

"What? No, I don't think so, but he won't let Gold or Mother Superior reattach it with magic. His parents are really angry - they want to sue the school."

Mary Margaret cringes. "That would explain all the suits in the front office at this hour," she sighs before turning toward her desk and raising her eyebrows at the large basket of apples she sees there.

"These are - wow, um..." the teacher's voice briefly falters, but she clears her throat and continues quietly, "Are these for me?"

"For your next pie," Regina explains. "You shouldn't have to use inferior produce."

Mary Margaret inexplicably seems on the verge of tears, so Emma tries to lighten the mood. "Oh, come on, was the last pie really that bad? You seemed to enjoy it well enough."

"Well enough is the key phrase. The pie was well-made, but better apples would have improved it. Miss Blanchard isn't offended."

"Not at all." The teacher dabs at her eyes with a tissue, which both girls pretend not to notice.

"Your family should open a farm-stand," Emma remarks. "You could make bank with those apples."

"Actually, that's what my mother's family did when she was younger. But then she ran for mayor and didn't have time for anything else."

"Well, if she gets tired of being mayor..."

"Like that'll ever happen," Regina says darkly. She adjusts her glasses and picks up her book again, which Emma knows is her cue to take out her own homework and stop talking.

The two girls read in companionable silence for a while before Ruby bursts into the classroom, brimming with fresh gossip about Killian's situation. The senior is undoubtedly the best source of information in town due to eavesdropping on people's conversations at Granny's every morning and evening. She claims that his refusal to let anyone reattach his hand is because he wants to get a prosthetic one shaped like a hook. The strangest thing is that neither Ruby nor Regina seems at all surprised.

"People in this town are fucking ridiculous," Emma mutters under her breath.

xx

It's a beautiful day, and Regina invites Emma to eat lunch with her out on the soccer field. The blonde is beyond ecstatic until she realizes that an invitation to dine with Regina Mills only means that you're allowed to sit quietly in her presence while she ignores you in favor of her history reading.

Still, Emma can't complain about the opportunity to study the girl of her dreams in her natural habitat - Regina seems about a thousand percent more relaxed outdoors than indoors - or the view of her ass in her tight black jeans. The brunette is lying on her stomach in the grass, propped up by her elbows, and she's concentrating so hard she barely moves except to flip the pages of her book or adjust her glasses which keep adorably slipping down the bridge of her nose. Her long hair is out of its customary braid, flying free in the slight breeze, and Emma, who is sitting cross-legged next to her, has the strongest urge to run her fingers through it, but she resists.

Eventually, Regina reaches into her backpack to pull out her lunch, and Emma can't force herself to stay quiet any longer.

"Really? An apple sandwich?" she teases.

"Apple and cheddar, with a bit of mustard. What? It's delicious, unlike your lunch," the brunette snaps, gesturing to Emma's sloppy joe from the cafeteria.

"This isn't so horrible," Emma protests, taking a bite. She immediately spits it out and admits, "Actually, yes, it is. It's absolutely disgusting."

"Here." Regina rolls onto her side and hands Emma half of her own sandwich. "That's inedible, and you need your strength for archery."

"Mary Margaret keeps offering to make my lunch - maybe I should take her up on it."

"You probably should." Regina is watching her carefully, and Emma finally realizes the other girl wants to see her reaction to the apple and cheddar combination. She immediately takes a bite.

"It's good," she says, chewing slowly. "A little weird, but good."

"Something being unfamiliar to you does not automatically make it 'weird,'" Regina huffs, rolling back onto her stomach and reopening her book.

"Hey, I never said weird was a bad thing. I like it."

"The word has a pejorative connotation."

"Fine. Your sandwich is not weird. It's unusual. Like many things in Storybrooke."

"You think Storybrooke is weird?"

"I just said it's unusual! Stop making assumptions, woman!" Emma feigns annoyance, and Regina hides a giggle behind the pages of A People's History of the United States.

The brunette's expression grows serious as she asks, "So, what do you think? About Storybrooke? Do you like living with Mary Margaret?"

"Storybrooke is really...different...from any of the places I've lived before," Emma says slowly, carefully. This town may be weird, but it's Regina's home, and she doesn't want to say anything insulting.

"Where did you live before?"

"Mostly in and around the Boston area. Lots of different foster homes, plus the stint in juvie I mentioned yesterday."

"Right," Regina says quietly. "I spent some time in Boston when I was younger. It's a nice city, but compared to here it's just a little..."

"Loud? Overwhelming?" Emma guesses. The brunette nods. "What were you doing in Boston?"

Regina immediately starts to clam up. "Oh...um...nothing interesting. My dad is a lawyer, and he...uh...had to go there for work sometimes." Emma guesses there's way more to this story, but she doesn't pry and quickly changes the subject.

"Living with Mary Margaret is interesting. I really like her," Emma admits. "Hopefully I can stay with her until I'm old enough to get out of the system."

"How does that work?" Regina asks curiously, turning back onto her side and granting Emma her full attention. "I mean, how do you decide to stay or go?"

"It's not really my decision. If the family likes you and has nothing else going on, you stay. If not, you get sent somewhere else - a different family or a group home or something. The longest I've been in one home is three years, the shortest was two weeks. It varies."

"That sounds terrible," Regina observes.

Emma makes no attempt to deny it. "The system's not the greatest."

"How do you...get out of it? Can you?"

"There are three ways, pretty much. You can end up back with your birth parents, get adopted, or turn eighteen. Number one isn't an option for me, and number two seems highly unlikely, so it's looking like option three."

"What happened to your birth parents?" Regina asks. "I mean, if you don't mind talking about it. You don't have to if you're not-"

"No, it's okay," Emma says quickly, surprised that she actually means it. She usually hates talking about her situation with kids who have actual families and roots. They rarely understand, but somehow she gets the feeling that Regina might. "I never knew them. Someone found me abandoned on the side of a freeway when I was a baby - there was no sign of any parents."

"Oh," Regina whispers. She refrains from making any of the stupid, unhelpful comments people often say, instead reaching out to gently take Emma's hand in her own.

Emma clears her throat. "Yeah, so they obviously don't want me, and even if they did, it's not like they have any claim to parental rights anymore."

"You could get adopted," Regina suggests.

"No one's going to adopt me at this stage of the game," Emma says. There's no self-pity in her comment; it's a fact of life that she accepted a long time ago. "People want to adopt babies and sometimes toddlers, not high school juniors."

"What about Mary Margaret?"

"Mary Margaret's great, and I would really like that - I think. I mean, I've only been with her for a couple of weeks. But I don't like to get my hopes up."

"When I was younger, I used to wish she would adopt me," Regina says with a hollow laugh.

"What happened between you two?" Emma asks, but Regina only shakes her head and lowers her eyes to their joined hands, running her thumb over Emma's knuckles.

"So, what happens then? If she doesn't adopt you?" the brunette asks.

"Best case scenario, she keeps me until I'm eighteen and then I go off to live on my own. Worst case...she doesn't, and I pack my bag and move onto the next home."

Regina slowly looks up and meets Emma's eyes with her own. "When you move onto the next home, do you usually keep in touch?"

She inhales slowly before answering, but the pause clearly tells Regina everything she needs to know. Emma's heart sinks as she sees the other girl's eyes fill with tears.

"Hey, don't cry," she whispers. "It's just that I've never had anyone worth keeping in touch with before. Besides, Mary Margaret seems to like me, so I don't think I'll be going anywhere for a while. You could hate me by then."

"I could never hate you; you're my friend." Regina blinks multiple times and stares intently at Emma. "You have to promise, if or when you ever leave Storybrooke, you won't...forget."

Emma smiles softly and laces her fingers together with Regina's. With the other hand, she reaches up to touch the brunette's cheek and wipe away a stray tear with her thumb. "You don't have to worry about that; I could never forget the girl who fed me my first apple sandwich."

Regina's face lights up with a huge smile. "The first of many, I hope."

"Don't push it. Anyway, like I said, the plan is to stick around this crazy town for a while," she says lightly and starts to remove her hand from Regina's face, but the brunette quickly reaches up to cover it with her own.

Emma feels a giant grin of her own developing, and she realizes that even if she and Regina never become more than just friends, this is the best feeling she's ever had. It's more than just the butterflies in her stomach: she feels safe, she feels accepted, she feels wanted and needed. Even if she leaves Storybrooke tomorrow, she will absolutely never forget the girl who first gave her this feeling.

Unfortunately, she doesn't get to bask in it for very long, because both girls hear footsteps rapidly approaching. They abruptly spring apart, only to sigh with relief when they see it's just Henry.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" he asks, glancing quizzically between his two Pre-Calc partners.

"Of course not," Regina says primly, sitting up and painting a pleasantly serene expression on her face.

"Maybe," Emma complains, and he gives her a knowing grin before plopping on the grass beside the pair. "Sure, kid, just make yourself at home, uninvited."

"You're always welcome to eat with us, Henry," Regina says.

"Well, I was in the library, but then I got treated to the sight of Miss French making out with Mr. Gold, and that was-"

"Wait a minute!" Emma interrupts, screeching. "Miss French and...Mr. Gold?"

"Right."

"Young, hot Miss French and our creepy magic teacher?"

"That is what he said, Emma."

Emma turns to glare at Regina. "How are you acting so calm about this?" she demands.

"It's been going on for a while now. Everyone knows about it."

"Well, I didn't," the blonde complains. "I can't even believe this - he's her Mr. Darcy?"

"Why does he have to be Mr. Darcy?"

"Well, he's not Wickham or Collins, and he's definitely not Bingley. Plus, Miss French is totally a Lizzie, and, knowing him, I bet he made a bad first impression."

"Is Pride and Prejudice really your only basis for understanding heterosexual relationships?" Regina asks.

"I'm pretty sure it's the only book she's actually read cover-to-cover."

"Hey!" She pretends to whack the freshman on the head with her lunch tray. "That's...accurate."

xx

P.E. class that day is, amazingly, not archery but some strange game of Locksley's own invention that resembles Capture the Flag, played in the forest just off the school grounds. It's a huge improvement, at least by Emma's standards, although she's not quite sure she understands the rules. It's a lot of running around like lunatics and climbing trees and setting booby-traps, and she and Regina are still laughing about it as they walk into Theory of Magic.

"Seems like you two got some exercise," Zelena remarks. "That's nice. You could use it - one of you, anyway."

Emma instantly turns worried eyes toward Regina, but the brunette only smiles sweetly and says, "Yes, it was a very boisterous game. And the forest is so lovely in the early autumn. Isn't it, Emma?"

Emma nods encouragingly.

I don't give a shit, Regina mouths, and both girls crack up.

"I don't see what's so funny," Zelena snarls.

"That's okay, dear. Nobody cares what you think."

Zelena blinks her eyes twice in confusion before turning back to the spell book on her desk. Good job, Emma mouths. Even Tink is smiling, which has to be a first - she's never quite gotten over her fear of Mr. Gold.

"How was your day, Tinkerbell?" Emma asks.

"Oh, it was pretty good, actually. Henry asked me to the freshman formal, and I got an A on my first biology test, so things are shaping up well."

"That's nice that you could get a date your own age to take you to your freshman formal," Zelena cuts in. "Unlike some people who liked to whore themselves out to their twenty-three year old riding instructors."

Regina's face remains perfectly composed, but Emma sees her hands start to tremble.

"Um...I have no idea what that has to do with anything," Tink mutters.

"I'm just saying it's nice that you understand the meaning of healthy relationships. It'll save you from a lot of reckless decisions and prevent people from being killed."

"How about you, Zelena? Did you have a nice day?" Emma asks loudly. Where the hell is Mr. Gold? she thinks.

"I certainly did, but apparently not as nice as yours," Zelena says with a sly smile. "I saw you two canoodling on the soccer field. You might want to watch who you out yourself to," she advises, turning to Regina. "We wouldn't want another of your girlfriends to end up dead, would we?"

The lamp above Zelena's head shatters, and broken glass rains down on her face. However, she's completely unfazed. "Look who decided to finally do some magic," she says with an almost maniacal smile. "Too bad there's no more where that came from." Suddenly, Regina's desk starts to slide backwards, pinning the brunette against the wall.

"You think you can just have whatever you want because you're the mayor's daughter," Zelena hisses. "You've never had to work for anything; everyone just hands it to you. You're talentless and pathetic, and you don't deserve to be in this room wasting Mr. Gold's time."

Regina's face is turning slightly purple - the desk is probably crushing her internal organs - but she manages to contort her expression into a smile after a quick glance at Emma. "Guess what, Zelena?" she chokes out, gasping for air. "I don't give a shit."

With that, the desk practically flies in the opposite direction, freeing Regina, and Zelena barely manages to jump out of the way before it crashes into the bookshelf and knocks the whole thing over. Though Regina is bent practically in two and struggling to catch her breath, she looks triumphant.

"This isn't over," Zelena declares. "I will destroy you."

"Bring it."

Gold walks into the room just then, looks around disapprovingly before righting all the furniture with a flick of his wrist. He then begins a long lecture about the importance of learning control, which Emma mostly tunes out.

When the teacher isn't looking directly at them, she surreptitiously meets her friend's determined eyes. "Nothing is going to happen to you," Regina growls under her breath. "I won't let it."