A/N: To say a MASSIVE THANK YOU for all of the follows and favourites and lovely lovely reviews, I'm going to start doing what some other fic writers already do - I'll send a message to every 50th reviewer and offer to write them a little one-shot fic based upon a prompt that they give me. SO, the 150th reviewer (which is the very next person from when I'm writing this...) will be the first person I contact :) obviously if no one has anything that they want me to write then just ignore any messages I send you. I just wanted to do something nice for you all to say thanks :D

I hope you enjoy! I realise that I described this as slow-burn swan queen and, motherfucker, it is SLOW. BLOODY. BURN. But I promise that the stuff you're all waiting for will be coming soon! Pinky swear. Honest.

xxx

Chapter Eight

'I don't understand,' Henry said, leaning forwards across the table. His forehead was deeply furrowed. 'Are you sure that's what you saw?'

'I'm positive,' August said. He was sat back in his chair, trying to act casual. Inside, however, his nerves were jumping. His heart had been pattering excitedly in his chest since the morning before, when he'd been sat in the exact same spot that he was in now.

'They were together?' Henry clarified, frowning. 'Just… talking?'

'And walking,' August shrugged. 'Don't forget the walking.'

Henry leant back in his seat, sighing. 'It doesn't make sense. My mom doesn't like Emma. She only went to see her last week because I asked her to… why would she be walking her to work? And why wouldn't she tell me?'

'I have no idea,' August said in a low voice. 'But that's what you need to try and find out.'

'Me?' Henry asked. 'Why?'

'She's not going to tell anyone else,' August said, sipping his coffee. 'Your mom doesn't exactly have a way with making friends, so I hear.'

Henry wrinkled his nose. 'She has Kathryn.'

'Yeah,' August let out a laugh. 'But I get the impression that you don't exactly approve of her.'

Henry looked down, not replying. The half-full mug of cocoa before him had gone cold.

'What don't you like about her?' August asked, resting his arms against the edge of the table.

'I don't not like her,' Henry muttered, running his finger around the rim of the cup. 'It's just… she's the reason that Mary Margaret and David aren't together.'

'Are you sure about that?' August asked. 'I kind of got the impression that they were the reason that they're not together.'

Henry grinned. 'Yeah. Well. That too.'

'And why do you care so much about those two, anyway?'

Henry blinked. 'Because they're meant to be together.'

'Because they're Snow White and Prince Charming?'

'Yeah,' Henry shrugged. 'It's okay. You don't have to believe me.'

'I never said I didn't believe you,' August said casually. Henry glanced up, curiosity twitching across his features. 'The thing is though, kid – Kathryn is her only friend. Which might be understandable given her… manner, shall we call it. But I'm starting to think that maybe her and Emma being friends – maybe that's not such a bad idea.'

'Friends?' Henry frowned. 'You think they like each other?'

'I don't know. But I do know that, for whatever reason, Emma trusts her more than she's trusting anyone else right now. And you can make out of that whatever you want.'

As Henry's face scrunched up with thought, August considered the thought that had really brought him to have this conversation: he knew the woman that Regina truly was. He also knew all about the curse that had caused him to be there. It was a curse that needed breaking, and it was a curse that was never going to get broken if Emma remained quite this devastated for much longer. So he only had one option: in the meantime, the curse needed weakening instead.

It made perfect sense to him. Regina and Emma clearly had more in common than either one of them was willing to admit, and right now it was quite obvious that Emma needed as many friends as she could get. But the fact alone was that Regina appeared to want to spend time with her, as much as she tried to deny it, and anything at all that seemed to imply that there was a trace of humanity dwelling within the Evil Queen was something that August was going to cling onto for all he was worth.

'Okay,' Henry said slowly, his eyes creasing with a smile. 'So maybe them being friends couldn't hurt.'

'I couldn't agree more.'

'And maybe… maybe my mom deserves another friend.'

August blinked. 'Do you think?'

'Yeah. I do.' Henry sighed. 'I think she's lonely, August. I'm the only person she's got and since Emma got here, I'm hardly there either. I just…' He paused, shaking his head. 'I want her to be happy. I want them both to be happy.'

A small smile crept over August's face. 'You're a good kid, Henry.'

'Not really,' Henry shrugged, picking up his backpack. He looped the straps over his shoulders with a sigh. 'Not recently.'

As the boy left the diner August felt a tiny tug of sadness inside his chest. It was quickly followed by a twinge of pain through his leg. His breath hissed through his teeth, his eyes shutting momentarily as he waited for it to subside. By the time his eyes had reopened Henry had gone, and he was yet again left with the perplexing image of the Evil Queen and the Saviour walking side by side down the road, talking not like enemies, but like actual human beings.

Emma returned home that evening, exhausted and shaking under the weight of all of the forms that Sidney had managed to incorrectly fill out over the previous three weeks, to find her roommate stood in the centre of the apartment waiting for her. Her round face was pale, her hands trembling by her sides.

'Emma,' she gasped the moment that the blonde staggered through the door. 'Where have you been?'

Emma dropped the stack of papers onto the table, stretching out her arms until they clicked. 'I went to work.'

'You could have told me!' Mary Margaret exploded, putting her hands against her hips. 'I've been worried sick – I got home and you were just gone, Emma. And you left your cell here so I couldn't even call you. I was about three minutes away from phoning the police.'

'That probably wouldn't have been such a bad idea,' Emma said, rubbing her tired eyes. 'Since the police would've been me.'

Mary Margaret opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. She narrowed her eyes. 'Did you just make a joke?'

Emma looked up at her, raising one eyebrow. 'Is that so surprising?'

'Kind of, yeah,' Mary Margaret said, moving across the apartment until she was stood in front of her roommate. Taking Emma's chin, she looked into her eyes for a moment, trying to gauge what was going on.

Emma blinked. 'What are you doing?'

'Why did you go back to work?' Mary Margaret asked curiously, letting go of the blonde's face. 'Were you planning to all weekend?'

'Not exactly,' Emma sighed, sitting down at the kitchen table with a resigned thud. Mary Margaret slid into the chair opposite her, folding her arms across the surface. 'It's complicated.'

'I'm listening.'

'Someone put the idea into my head,' Emma said, swallowing. 'I was kind of considering it, but then I felt like crap this morning and so decided not to. But then… they came round to check on me and kind of persuaded me to go anyway.'

Mary Margaret absorbed this information, her hazel eyes narrowing as she realised exactly what her roommate was telling her. 'Emma. Was this "someone", by any chance, Regina?'

'…it might have been.'

'And are you sure that she didn't force you to go back?'

'No,' Emma said, more firmly than she'd intended. 'No. I promise you. She… it was weird. She said she wanted me to go back because she thought it would help me. She thought that the more time I spent in here, the worse the outside would start to feel.'

Mary Margaret's face collapsed. 'But I've been saying the same thing for weeks.'

A hand reached out to squeeze hers for a moment. 'I know. I'm sorry. It's just… the mayor has the capacity to be a bit more firm about it than you do.'

'I suppose,' Mary Margaret huffed, looking down at where Emma's fingers were still pressed against her own. 'So, what happened? She came round and talked you into it and off you went?'

'No…' Emma said slowly, retracting her hand and placing it in her lap. 'She… she kind of walked me there.'

There was a pause. 'Are you sure?'

'Yeah, Mary Margaret, I'm pretty sure.'

'That doesn't sound much like Regina,' the brunette frowned. 'Was she… was she nice about it?'

Another pause. 'She was really nice about it. She was verging on patient. It was bizarre.'

Mary Margaret sat back in her chair for a moment, absorbing this new information. She couldn't quite picture it: Mayor Mills helping out the one person in the town whom she actually hated more than she hated her. It didn't make sense. And yet…

'What?' Emma asked, watching the cloud of realisation that was spreading across her roommate's face.

Mary Margaret swallowed. 'Emma. How much do you remember of that night when… when I wasn't here?'

Emma winced. 'How is that relevant?'

'Because I know that Regina came round.'

'…what? How?'

'She was still here when I got back.'

The blonde's forehead creased in confusion. 'She was? Why?'

'The kitchen… she'd been clearing it up.'

Emma thought back to that night; to the mess of photos and whiskey that she'd left spread across the floor. She'd always just assumed that Mary Margaret had cleaned it up out of guilt. It had kind of accounted for why she'd never mentioned it.

'You're sure?'

'Yeah. When I got back, she didn't realise I was there right away: she was just putting all of your photos away. But then she got distracted by one and was stood there looking at it for a while before I said anything.'

This caused Emma to jump. 'She was looking at one of my photos? Which one?'

'I have no idea.'

'Did she put it back?'

'Well. I guess so,' Mary Margaret shrugged. 'I was a bit distracted, I didn't really notice. But I don't see any reason why she'd want to keep it.'

Emma nodded, but there was uncertainty carved into her features. 'I guess.'

The pair sat in silence for a moment, thinking about all of this. Mary Margaret was still struggling to absorb the fact that Regina Mills had actually taken to helping her roommate recover – not just once, but on multiple occasions. She shook her head to herself, reeling at what a powerful thing guilt must really be.

Emma, meanwhile, was stuck thinking about the photos. Why had Regina been looking at them in the first place?

'I suppose the thing is,' Mary Margaret eventually said, her eyes looking down at the table between them, 'that we always assume that Regina is… well, a bit evil, because of the way that she's always behaved around us. But maybe that doesn't necessarily mean that she is evil.'

'What do you mean?'

'There has to be some good in her,' the brunette said thoughtfully. 'She adopted Henry, after all. She loves him more than anything. And people who fight that hard for their son can't just be intrinsically wicked and nothing else. There always has to be some light and some darkness.'

Emma considered this. 'I suppose. But since what happened… she hasn't really been evil at all.'

'You think she feels guilty?'

'Oh no, I know she feels guilty. It's written all over her face, even if she won't admit it. But it's more than that. I think…' she paused, sighing. Mary Margaret watched as she ran a hand through her lank hair. 'I think that she's trying to include me in her life. I'm sure that Henry must have asked her to, but even so – she's making an effort to be nice to me and it's kind of weird.'

'Bad weird?'

'No,' Emma said quietly. 'Not bad. Not good, either. Just… weird.'

'You should make the most of it,' Mary Margaret smiled. 'Who knows how long it'll last.'

'Yeah,' Emma let out a snort of laughter. 'That's true.'

She fell quiet again. Mary Margaret watched the thoughtful frown that had etched its way across her forehead. Emma didn't seem to notice her staring: she sat cross-legged on her chair, both of her hands clasped in her lap, with her green eyes pinned firmly onto the dented wooden table before her. As she thought about Regina and what she'd actually done for her that day, she seemed to forget that her roommate was there at all.

'I'm going to have a shower,' Mary Margaret eventually said, making Emma jump. 'Or do you want to get in first?'

'No, it's fine,' Emma said, glancing up at her. 'You go ahead.'

'I'll get started on dinner when I'm done,' Mary Margaret said, getting up from the table. 'Spaghetti okay?'

'Yeah, great. Thanks.'

As her roommate left the kitchen, Emma's gaze slowly crawled up the stairs and towards her bedroom door. Something ticked away inside her head for a moment. Getting up from her chair, she forced herself up the stairs and into her room, dragging the dusty old box with the folded blanket on top from underneath her bed. The collection of photos was stacked neatly beneath it, all of their edges precisely aligned in a way that she never usually bothered to do herself. Normally they were scattered haphazardly across the entirety of the box, crumpled in the corners, waiting for her to sift through them all. She didn't know how she hadn't noticed their new arrangement before now.

It was hard to say if any were missing because she had never counted exactly how many there were. But there was something different about them anyway: now that she knew that Regina had been looking at them they felt warmer beneath her hands, as if the mayor's fingers were still clutching hold of them. Emma frowned, looking down at her own teary, angry face, before shoving the photos back into the box. They remained in their neat pile, however. Then the blanket was folded on top of them and the box was pushed back under the bed, out of sight once more.

There was a knock at the door just as Regina was serving dinner.

'Henry,' she called out to her son. 'Will you go and see who that is?'

Henry put down the cutlery that he'd been laying out on the dining room table and moved across the house to the front door. Opening it, he found Sidney Glass waiting for him.

'Hey Sidney,' he said.

'Hi, Henry. Is your mom about?'

'Sure,' the boy said, turning his head to shout across the house. 'Mom? It's Mr Glass.'

Regina appeared beside him a moment later, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She frowned when she saw her stand-in sheriff waiting for her.

'Henry,' she smiled down at her son. 'Will you go and start getting the food out of the oven? Make sure you wear the gloves. I'll be along in a second.'

The moment that he had disappeared back into the kitchen, Regina turned to Sidney with a dark frown etched across her face.

'What are you doing here?'

'I came to give you this,' Sidney said, holding out a thick brown envelope. 'I thought you might stop by the station today once Emma had left, but since you never did…'

Regina looked suspiciously down at it. 'What is it?'

'It's what you asked for,' Sidney said, frowning at the mayor's confusion. '…don't you remember?'

Reaching out a hand, Regina took the envelope from him and tore it open. She looked down at its contents: photos. Photos of Emma. Photos of Emma shuffling around town with her face peppered with bruises, her shoulders hunched, her eyes red. Photos of Emma having coffee with August and even photos of Emma sat in the sheriff station that very morning. Plus endless notes about her whereabouts, her conversations, and her appearance. The envelope was bulging with them and Regina resisted the urge to throw it back in Sidney's face.

'When did I ask you to do this?' she said in a low voice, letting the package dangle between her pinched thumb and forefinger. Sidney blinked.

'Um,' he stammered. 'After the sheriff election? You… you told me to keep you updated on her every move. I've been doing it for weeks.'

Regina opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. Oh, she realised with a sharp intake of breath. That.

That whole petty arrangement seemed years ago now. Since the incident in City Hall, she'd completely forgotten about her ludicrous decision to force Sidney to pretend to be Miss Swan's ally.

She realised with a jolt of what could have been guilt that Emma probably still thought that he was.

'I forgot,' she said slowly, looking back into the envelope. 'I just... I assumed that you'd stopped.'

'You never asked me to,' Sidney said anxiously. 'I just haven't had a chance to give them to you yet because I've been so busy filling in for Emma… if you had said, I wouldn't have kept—'

'It's alright Sidney. Calm down.' Regina pressed the envelope shut once more, holding it under one arm. 'How long will you be staying at the sheriff station, do you think?'

'I don't know,' he mumbled. 'She stuck around all day today, but she's going to need some time to get back to where she was. She struggled a lot.'

Regina frowned, although she didn't know what else she had expected.

'In that case…' she said, looking down at the floor between them. 'I would like you to keep doing this for me. But subtly – no taking photographs of her while she's sat three feet away from you. If she notices anything then she'll go right back to square one.'

Sidney blinked. 'Would that, umm… would that be a bad thing?'

Regina jumped. 'No. Of course not. But I want to get you back to the newspaper as soon as possible: if you have to keep covering for her, it's going to take even longer.'

'Of course,' he nodded, relieved. 'I'll be careful.'

'Thank you, Sidney.' Regina shot him her usual winning smile. It lacked some of its usual voltage, however. They both noticed.

The moment Sidney had left, Regina shut the front door and quickly walked into her office, unlocking the bottom drawer of her desk. She took one last look inside the envelope before she put it away, cold self-hatred creeping down her spine.

She told herself that she wasn't really spying on Miss Swan – not anymore. Sidney might still think that he was keeping an eye on her for the same old reasons, but Regina knew that that wasn't the case. She knew that the real reason she wanted to know about Emma's actions, as much as it hurt her to admit it, was because she was still worried about her. And since she couldn't realistically drop by the sheriff station every single day to check that she was okay – well. Then this arrangement would just have to do instead.

She locked the photos away, out of sight, where she hoped she'd never have to look at them again. The reminder of Emma's broken, injured body had come screaming back to her and she knew that her face was pale when she returned to the kitchen.

'Mom?' Henry asked, frowning. 'Are you okay?'

She forced herself to smile, shaking the image of Emma sat in Granny's, alone, with her head resting dejectedly in her hands, out of her mind.

'I'm fine, Henry,' she replied, resting her hand against the back of his hair. 'Thank you for taking care of all of this for me. Come on: let's go and eat, shall we?'

Thanks for reading this chapter! There will be much more SQ interactions in chapter 9, I promise

Also, I'm starsthatburn over on tumblr if you want to come and say hi :)