Chapter Forty-Five

Mary Margaret stood quietly in the doorway, watching Emma smooth down her tank top and leather pants in front of the mirror. She was there watching her for some time before she was noticed. When Emma caught sight of her in the reflection she turned quickly, an anxious pucker fully formed between her eyebrows and her hands still resting flat against her abdomen.

'Is… is this too much?' she asked uncertainly.

Mary Margaret smiled. 'You look lovely. A bit too hard-times-biker-chick for my taste, but beautiful all the same.'

A nervous smile flickered over Emma's face before she turned back to the mirror, carefully appraising her reflection once more.

Mary Margaret stayed where she was, noticing yet again that recently Emma's face had become slightly less pale. As she peered at her own reflection that same clouded expression that she had grown to know so well had once again appeared over her roommate's face – that expression that told her that Emma was, yet again, questioning just how much she was actually worth to this world, and whether she should bother going out into it at all tonight. But right then, at least, there was hope behind it. Hope that actually, maybe, she might find that she was worth something, to someone.

'Remind me who this guy is again?' Mary Margaret asked, sitting herself on the edge of Emma's bed.

Emma didn't turn around; her expression didn't flicker. 'Some guy I met at the Rabbit Hole last week.'

'Just some guy?'

Emma glanced up and saw the playful glint in Mary Margaret's eye.

'Yeah,' she said coolly. 'Just some guy.'

'You didn't get his name?'

Emma rolled her eyes and thought wildly for a moment. 'Of course I did. It was weird though. Like...' she paused, then landed on a name she was sure she'd read in Henry's book once. '…Killian. I think.'

'Killian?' Mary Margaret asked. Her face went flat. 'That's an awful name.'

'It is,' Emma agreed.

'So why did you agree to go on a date with someone who you barely remember and whose name makes him sound like a fifteenth century pickpocket?'

Emma laughed. 'Because I felt like I should probably say yes to something for once. It can't hurt. Unless he turns out to be a murderer, of course, which is actually quite likely, now that I think about it.'

'He has a murderer vibe about him?' Mary Margaret asked.

Immediately Emma's mind flashed over to Regina's wicked grin; her coyly raised eyebrows. 'Not exactly. Just… a bit dangerous, maybe.'

'You've always quite liked a bit of danger,' her roommate noted casually.

'True,' Emma said, turning back to the mirror and looking sadly at her reflection. She added quietly, 'Maybe that's my problem.'

Mary Margaret stood up then, edging over to where Emma was standing. Emma looked at their faces beside one another – the same slightly blunted chin, the same mouth, the same vaguely hopeful expression around the eyes. She flinched, and Mary Margaret pretended not to notice.

'You look great, Emma,' she said, forcing a smile. 'And you're right – it can't hurt to get out there. Remember, I can always call you with an emergency if things go really wrong.'

Emma smiled weakly in return. 'Thanks, Mary Margaret.'

She slipped on a pair of black heels and grabbed her black leather jacket. Her roommate smiled at her.

'So where is he taking you?'

Emma half-laughed, half-sighed.

'I have no idea,' she said, shrugging the jacket on. 'He said he wanted to surprise me.'

'Ooh,' Mary Margaret said, finally turning to leave the room. 'Dangerous and romantic. Sounds like quite a catch, if you ask me.'

She left Emma's bedroom and trotted down the stairs, her cell buzzing in her pocket as David texted for the ninth time asking if it was safe for him to come round yet. She grinned down at the glowing screen, typing back.

Emma stayed looking at her reflection; at the scar that was almost invisible beneath her make up.

'Yeah,' she sighed, pulling her curls out from beneath the collar of her jacket. 'I guess he is.'

Regina was outside at 7:59pm. She had parked around the corner like she and Emma has discussed, knowing full well that Mary Margaret would be poking her nose out of the window every five minutes to check who her roommate was disappearing off into the night with, as well as to see if her own fairy tale booty call had arrived yet.

She was jittery with nerves and couldn't keep her legs still. She tried crossing them and swore loudly when she knocked her knee against the hard steering wheel. Drumming her fingers against the dashboard, she pinned her eyes on the glowing outline of the door to Emma's building. She jumped, hitting her knee on the wheel for a second time, when the door opened and Emma quickly left the apartment block.

Emma strode along the sidewalk purposefully, her chin up and her fists bunched by her sides. Obviously she was also aware of the fact that her roommate would probably be watching. She drew closer to the car and, in the dim glow of the nearby streetlight, Regina saw her properly. She sucked in a sharp breath. Leather pants, a leather jacket and full, bouncing curls greeted her, and a sudden pain squeezed at her chest. She glanced down and saw the towering heels that Emma was wearing, then looked up again just in time to see the nervous smile on her lips as she approached the car. There was a pause, and then the passenger door opened.

Emma slid into the car smelling of vanilla perfume and cold, smoky air. She still had a smile on her face – a genuine one. But Regina caught the nervous flicker at the corner of her mouth and the faint scent of whisky lingering on her lips.

'Hey,' she said, breathing quickly. They both waited to see if she would lean forwards and give Regina a kiss. After a beat, she settled for a nervous squeeze of her hand.

Regina gasped at her touch. 'You're freezing,' she snapped, her hand shooting back out to clasp hold of Emma's. 'You didn't bring a coat?'

'I'm wearing one,' Emma protested, making no move to pull away from the warmth of Regina's fingers.

Regina eyed the flimsy leather jacket with considerable disgust. 'This is not a coat. You should go back upstairs and get one.'

'Regina, it's fine. I'm okay.'

'You are going to catch your death.'

She realised that she was nagging, but Emma didn't seem to mind. Quite the opposite – a tiny, fond smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth, as if, against all odds, she had missed all of this fussing.

'It's fine,' Emma repeated, giving Regina's hand a final squeeze before pulling away. 'Unless you're taking me mountain climbing, I'm sure I'll be alright.'

She smiled, waiting for Regina to roll her eyes and concede before shifting the car into gear, muttering under her breath as she drove them to whatever fancy restaurant she had managed to find. But she had frozen, a panicked smile stuck on her face.

'What?' Emma blinked. There was a pause, and then, 'Oh, shit! You are taking me mountain climbing?'

Regina glared at her. 'Of course not, Miss Swan. Don't be ridiculous.'

Narrowing her eyes, Emma opened her mouth in an attempt to interrupt Regina's blatant mental calculations over where she could take her instead and make it appear like that's where they were going all along. But then her eyes slid downwards, taking in Regina's thick coat and tightly fitted jeans on the way, until they landed at where her feet were resting on the pedals. She jumped: for the first time since she'd known her – including the day after the fire at City Hall, when she'd been hobbling about on a sprained ankle – Regina was wearing shoes without heels.

Emma felt her mouth fall open. 'What are those?'

Regina followed her gaze and looked venomously at her own sensible shoes, before casting a look over at Emma's perilously high heels. She leant her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. 'For goodness sake.'

'Well, I'm sorry!' Emma muttered, sliding down in her chair with a huff. 'You were organising a date – I expected… I don't know. Oysters or horse-drawn carriages or ballroom dancing. I googled how to waltz. For some reason I didn't consider that you might plan something that would require mountaineering gear. I didn't know there were any mountains in Storybrooke.'

'We are not going mountain climbing,' Regina snapped, tugging at a loose stitch on the wheel.

'Okay,' Emma sighed. 'But seriously, Regina – if you needed me in sensible clothes for something, you really could have mentioned it.'

There was a loaded pause and Emma was suddenly certain that Regina was about to ask her to get out of the car. But instead she sighed, and mumbled in a voice that bore a startling resemblance to Henry's, 'I didn't expect you to want to dress up for me, Miss Swan. I thought I'd be safe. Besides, I… wanted it to be a surprise.'

Emma's heart thumped painfully. She reached out and squeezed Regina's hand once more.

'I'm going to get changed.'

Regina's head snapped up. 'No, Emma. Don't. You look beautiful, and we can just—'

Emma leaned over and slowly, softly kissed her on the lips. She pulled away and repeated, 'I'm going to get changed.'

She hopped out of the car, her keys jangling, before Regina could tell her to stay. Less than five minutes later she was back, wearing jeans, boots and a thick red coat. Her perfectly curled hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail.

She slid back into the car and smiled. 'Better?'

Regina nodded. 'Perfect.'

And the car finally pulled away into the night; two red tail lights fading into a sea of inky blue.

Emma laughed when she saw the hill. 'That is what you were worried about?'

She was standing at the top of a small slope that led from the main road near the toll bridge down into the woods. Regina, opening the trunk of her car, rolled her eyes.

'You think you could have stumbled down that in five-inch heels?' she asked. Emma shrugged, turning back to join her.

'Probably not,' she said, peering into the trunk. 'But taking them off wouldn't have been too far beyond the realms of possibility.'

Ignoring her, Regina pulled three folded blankets out of the car. Emma reached out to take them.

'No,' Regina said softly. 'Leave them.'

'Why?'

'Because I need to go and set this up. You'll wait here.'

Emma raised an eyebrow. 'Oh, will I, Madam Mayor?'

Regina looked up at her and sighed. 'Emma. For once, please, can you just do as you are told?'

Emma scoffed, digging the toe of her boot into the dirt. 'Unlikely. Come on, Regina, let me come.'

'No. Get back in the car, please.'

Emma glanced over her shoulder at the vehicle in question. It was dark out, and the car was parked at the edge of the solitary track. Regina was busy gathering her coat about her and so didn't notice the flash of panic that crossed Emma's pale face.

Finally, Emma forced out, '…fine. I'll be a good girl and wait here.'

The beaming smile that Regina offered her in response almost made the anxiety worth it.

'Thank you,' she said, placing the blankets on top of a large crate and lifting the pile out of the trunk. She placed them on the floor and Emma heard the promising clink of bottles. The trunk slammed shut.

'Wait five minutes,' Regina said, handing her the car keys. 'Lock the car. Then follow that trail down there into the woods. You'll find me.'

Emma nodded, trying to smile. The twist of nerves in her stomach – both at the thought of Regina striding off into the forest by herself, and her being left alone as a result – made her feel nauseous.

But Emma didn't say a word. Instead, she simply watched as Regina picked up the crate and began to tentatively make her way down the slope. After a few moments, both she and the sound of clinking bottles had disappeared.

Emma immediately slid back into the car and locked the doors, her breathing quick and sharp. She took her cell out of her pocket, pressed the home button and balanced it on her thigh. She kept her eyes fixed on the screen until it went dark again.

Placing her hands between her bouncing knees, she squeezed her legs as tightly together as possible. A burst of nervous energy that had come from seemingly nowhere was creeping through her body and suddenly it was impossible for her to stay still. She clenched her knees tighter, willing them to stop jigging up and down, before sliding one hand free to press the home button on her cell again. She sighed: one minute down. She settled back in her chair, her hands clamped between her tightly clenched knees, and waited.

In the wing mirror of the car she could see the trees that Regina had just disappeared between. Everything seemed a lot darker than it had a few minutes earlier, when Regina had been beside her and everything wasn't quite so damn quiet. She squinted into the small mirror's glassy surface, expecting to see something appearing through the branches that would give her a clue as to what Regina was up to – a gazebo, or maybe a few fireworks, who knows – but everything remained dark and shadowy. There was little movement, little noise. Emma swallowed and watched the second minute tick by, and then the third.

By the time four minutes had passed Emma was ready to leap out of the car and barrel down the slope like the hounds of hell were at her feet. Her breathing was suddenly short. When she was in her bedroom alone at the night, the walls had eyes and claws – but this was so much worse. The trees bore down on her and tiny, sharp leaves tapped at the car doors. She nervously tugged on the door handle. It was definitely locked. She snapped her head around any time she heard a creak of leather, expecting to find someone in the backseat. The shadow of the rear headrests looked like him; like his flabby head that was too small for his his broad shoulders. She swallowed, waiting for the click of a gun. When her eyes filled with tears it only made things worse – she couldn't see him properly. She scrubbed furiously at her eyelids and turned back once more, ready to face him and his gun and his unfinished business. He wasn't there, and yet he was.

Emma forced herself to breathe, slowly and shakily, as she turned back to the front of the car. The only thing that stopped her clambering out of the vehicle and running was the fact that she knew Regina would be mad if she did. She'd said five minutes. Emma swallowed, clenching her knees more tightly together, and ignored the sound of heavy, odorous breathing that wasn't really there. She could do as she was told. For once.

Emma repeated this fact to herself in the firmest voice that she could manage, but still her eyes were flicking nervously from side to side.

The very second that the five minutes were finally, agonisingly, over, Emma all by threw herself out of the door. She slammed it shut behind her and locked it, then turned to the slope that Regina had disappeared down with bitter tears stinging at her eyes. She ran down the hill, stumbling, nearly tripping. But as soon as she had reached level ground and was surrounded by the woods, darkness enveloped her. Her own panic hit her like a sharp blade between her ribs, her stomach was dropping like a stone in her body. The forest was blurry from her own childish tears and suddenly the ground looked so comforting – she could lie down there and no one would bother her. No one could find her in this sharp, shadowy maze.

But she forced herself to glance up, ready to cry out like a lost child if there was a figure before her – and suddenly she knew where she would find Regina.

Up ahead, on the other side of the trees, there was a faint glow of light coming from by the river. Tugging her coat around her, Emma started off towards it. She didn't realise how quickly she was walking until she realised that she was out of breath.

She burst through the trees and ground to a halt. There she was – Regina, and all the relief that came with her – kneeling on a blanket, surrounded by candles. Half of them had already blown out in the breeze and she was frantically trying to relight them, swearing under her breath as she burnt her fingers over and over. Next to her was the pile of blankets and three wine bottles, and food - plates and plates of it. Emma edged forwards, still breathing hard, her eyes wide and smarting. She paused, scrubbing angrily at her face and waiting for the pounding in her chest to subside. It was then that Regina chose to look up.

There was a pause, and then Regina sighed. 'The damn candles aren't agreeing with me.'

Emma smiled weakly, walking closer. In spite of the candles that were flickering into nothing, the place looked beautiful. Regina sat surrounded by a soft halo of light, her cheeks rosy from the wind and from nerves. Her hair was windswept and her hands were clenched into nervous fists. The lights were everywhere, but Regina was easily the brightest.

'You… did all this?' Emma asked, gesturing at the oddly perfect scene that was laid out before her.

Regina shrugged, her cheeks turning pinker. 'I tried to. But… it seems I can't even romance you properly.'

'Regina. This is amazing,' Emma said, stepping closer. The smile on her face was small and genuine, and Regina relaxed slightly. In the warm light from the candles Emma's face looked younger, and even Regina could tell that she was delighted with what lay before her. But all at once she noticed that Emma's eyes were wider than normal, and she was breathing hard. She glanced down and saw two trembling hands.

'God,' she said, and Emma's gaze slid across to her, a smile still on her thin lips. 'Emma, are you okay?'

The smile faded. 'I'm fine. Why?'

'You look… I don't know. Anxious.'

'I'm fine,' Emma said. Regina swallowed, the anticipation inside of her extinguished like one of her candles. It had been a long time since Emma had lied about that.

She glanced back at the dark trees behind them, to where Emma had been waiting for her, and then back to Emma herself. In her blue eyes she saw the fear of a small child who had every reason to be afraid of the dark, and suddenly she deflated. 'Oh. Emma. I'm… I'm sorry.'

Emma swallowed and walked over to the blanket, lowering herself down to the ground. 'Sorry for what?'

'For leaving you alone,' Regina said, grabbing her hand and stroking her thumb over the palm. 'I didn't think. I'm sorry – were you okay?'

'I'm fine, Regina.'

'Why didn't you come with me?'

'Because you told me to wait there.'

'Yes. But why didn't you join me earlier?'

Emma swallowed, looking down at their interlocked hands. 'I didn't want to ruin this.'

She watched as Regina's face collapsed. 'You stayed there by yourself so that my terrible surprise didn't get spoiled?'

'Well,' Emma looked around her at the mostly-extinguished candles. 'I now realise my mistake.'

Regina laughed, and it was the most delicious sound Emma had ever heard in her life. 'Shut up. I'd like to see you do better in these gale force conditions.'

Emma laughed in return, taking in the very faint breeze that was swirling around them, and leaned in to kiss Regina's cool cheek. 'Regina. It's amazing. Really. Thank you for doing this.'

Her cheeks went from pale to pink in less than a second. 'Well. You are welcome. And I'm sorry again for—'

'Don't,' Emma interrupted, shaking her head. 'It doesn't matter. I could have said something and I didn't. And it was all worth it anyway.'

'It was?' Regina asked, her eyes betraying her hopefulness in an instant. Emma smiled.

'Absolutely.'

Regina's cheeked flushed with deeper pleasure, and her eyes dropped. 'I'm glad. I… wanted to do something special for you.'

'You've definitely done that,' Emma said, taking another look around her. Almost inevitably, her gaze landed on the containers of food. 'What have you got there?'

Regina laughed. 'I should have known. Pass them here, Miss Swan. You look like you could do with feeding up again.'

The boxes were opened and Emma was handed a plastic glass filled with white wine, followed by a plastic plate and cutlery. She sipped at the wine, which was cold from spending the last hour in the trunk of Regina's car, and watched as Regina unpacked endless containers of homemade food. Potato salad, cold pasta, sandwiches, warm soup in a thermos. There were chips and homemade salsa, bowls of salad scattered with slices of cold chicken, and even two slabs of lasagne wrapped in foil. Regina placed the back of her hand over one and sighed.

'I'd hoped it would stay a bit warmer,' she said, passing the container to Emma. She unwrapped it at once and slid a still-lukewarm portion onto her plate. Then she turned back to Regina and gave her the other without saying a word.

As Regina continued to unload everything, laying it out neatly between them, Emma fell quiet. She sipped on her wine, watching Regina's steady hands at work. She was so in her element – feeding her, taking care of her – and it was oddly comforting to watch. But then she looked up, caught Emma's wistful smile, and frowned.

'What?'

Emma swallowed, shrugging.

'Regina, this is…' Emma gestured around her, somehow lost for words. Regina's cheeks flushed deep red.

'It's nothing, Miss Swan,' she muttered, taking a sip of wine. 'Wrap that blanket around you before you freeze to death. And take some food – I didn't make all of this for you to stare at it.'

'It's not nothing,' Emma protested, though she did as she was told. Once the blanket was secured around her shoulders, she reached out and began to spoon pasta salad onto her plate. 'You went to all this trouble for me. It's incredible. I don't know how to thank you.'

Biting her lip, Regina gave her a nervous smile. 'Well. If I'm honest, this was my way of thanking you, Miss Swan.'

'Me?' Emma's hand stopped in mid-air and she looked up curiously. 'Why? What did I do?'

She was startled by just how anxious Regina looked. Her eyes were wide and glossy. She wetted her lips and looked down at the wine glass in her trembling hand. 'For… giving me a second chance.'

Emma froze, dropping the spoon. 'Oh, Regina. Come on.'

'No, I mean it. You really didn't have to. In fact, you probably shouldn't have. But you're here and against all odds, you actually seem pleased about that and… I've missed you and I'm just thankful that you've decided to try and see past all this.'

Emma bit down on her bottom lip, looking down at her half-filled plate. She resumed spooning food onto it, more for something to do with her hands than anything else. After a moment she cleared her throat, speaking quietly.

'I'd love to pretend that this was some big, selfless act, Regina – but the honest truth is that I just couldn't help it,' she mumbled, grabbing a bread roll and tearing it in half. 'I was so angry with you, but... I missed you so much. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Even if you are a massive pain in the ass.'

She looked up again just in time to see Regina's huge, dorky grin. She couldn't help but smile in response.

'Stop it,' she muttered, shaking her head as she looked back down to where she was trying to butter the roll.

'What?'

'Looking at me like that,' Emma smirked. 'You look… sweet.'

Regina opened her mouth in mock outrage. 'I do not look sweet, Miss Swan. Ever.'

'Right now you do,' Emma said, not looking up. She dropped the roll back onto her plate and wrapped her fingers back around her plastic wine glass. 'I can feel it without even looking at you. You're sickeningly cute, Regina.'

'You take that back,' Regina said.

'Never.'

'I mean it, Miss Swan, or so help me.'

And finally Emma looked up, her eyes flashing with remembrance of a town meeting not so long before the one that had changed everything.

'Or what?' she said quietly, raising her eyebrows. 'You'll punish me?'

Regina leaned forwards, her eyes suddenly dark, and reached out to graze her thumb over the corner of Emma's mouth. She watched with fascination as her smile immediately faded.

'Oh, Miss Swan,' she murmured, her eyes planted on the downward curve of her lips that never seemed to go away. 'You really have no idea what I am capable of.'

Emma's mouth went dry. She bit her lip, and Regina's eyes immediately latched onto the flash of white teeth that appeared. Around them the wind was still faintly whistling through the leaves and the odd cricket gave a half-hearted chirrup – but everything seemed oddly silent to Emma other than the dull pounding of her own blood thudding against her temples.

Still clutching her wine tightly between her fingers, she felt herself leaning slowly forwards. Regina inhaled sharply, but she didn't move. She needed to see what would happen now – whether Emma would meet her all by herself.

Food forgotten, Emma shuffled forwards on her knees and placed her glass back on the floor. Her fingers drummed nervously against her thighs. She leaned forward another inch, closing the gap between them. Only a breath was left between their lips and she waited with itching palms for Regina to cross over it – but she didn't. More than anything, she seemed to be moving backwards. She was testing her – she was waiting for Emma to do this by herself. No pushing. No questions or confirmations.

Emma realised this and paused, only for a second, to absorb the desperate look in Regina's eyes. Then she fell forwards that final inch, breathed a sigh of relief, and sunk into the familiar tingle that came from a pair of lips that were more familiar to her than her own.

When they finally pulled away, Emma's cheeks were flushed and her eyes were dark and sparklingly bright at the same time. Regina swallowed, her hand still resting lightly against Emma's warm face, and offered her a shaky smile.

Emma blinked several times before she finally managed to sigh, 'Wow.'

Regina laughed. 'Yes, Emma. I have to say that for once I agree with you.'

She rubbed her thumb over Emma's cheekbone and watched as her eyes fluttered closed. Then she caught sight of the abandoned food sitting between them.

'Ah, dear. I suspect that your lasagne might have gone cold.'

Emma's eyes remained closed, but she grinned sheepishly. 'I'm not sure I care.'

'You have to eat, Emma,' Regina said, trying to sound firm but being betrayed by the warmness in her own voice. She picked up the half-buttered roll on Emma's plate and pressed it gently into her hand. 'Eat. Now.'

Opening her eyes, Emma grinned. 'I've missed your bossiness.'

Regina pressed her lips together, supressing a smile. 'I've missed your absolute ineptitude.'

'I've missed your unnecessarily long words,' Emma said, raising her eyebrows and finally tearing off a piece of bread. She put it in her mouth and suddenly moaned. 'Oh. I'm starving.'

Regina smiled, watching as Emma suddenly morphed into a child before her eyes. Her body curved forwards as she picked up her plate, rested it in her lap and suddenly began to shovel food into her mouth. Trying not to laugh, Regina followed suit with slightly more grace.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, throwing peacefully content glances at one another. The air got colder, and a few more candles blew out.

'What's the time, anyway?' Emma eventually asked through a mouthful of tomato pasta. Regina looked down at her wristwatch and grimaced.

'Late.'

Emma looked up at her, swallowing. 'How late?'

'Nearly twelve.'

'Oh,' Emma blinked. 'Shit.'

'We should probably get going in a moment,' Regina muttered, reluctantly putting her fork down. She picked up the open bottle of wine and refilled both of their glasses. 'I told Kathryn I'd be back by eleven.'

Emma laughed, picking up her glass and immediately draining it. 'I feel a bit bad.'

'About keeping her waiting?'

'No. I'm sure she doesn't mind – it's not like your house is a complete hovel, or anything,' Emma said, grinning as Regina automatically narrowed her eyes. 'I feel bad that, now we're dating again, you'll need her to babysit more and so it'll be easier for Mary Margaret and David to go behind her back again.'

Regina's face darkened at once. 'I hadn't thought about that,' she said quietly, her eyes on the glass in her hand. And then she paused, looking back up. 'Hang on, Miss Swan. What did you just say?'

'About what?'

'You know what,' Regina said, hesitating before she added, 'Are we... dating again?'

A flicker of a smile crossed Emma's face and she shrugged, chewing. 'I don't know. I thought… yeah. I thought maybe we were.'

Regina paused, a smile frozen on her face. '…are you sure?'

'Sure of what?'

'Sure that you want that?' she said, speaking quickly and sharply. Her fingers found her own glass of wine and she drained it without so much as flinching. 'Don't say it unless you do. I... I don't think I could take it if you changed your mind.'

Emma looked up, startled. Regina's voice was cracking and, Jesus, her pouty bottom lip was trembling like the breeze had gotten to it. Without thinking she reached out and gently cupped her chin, watching as Regina gritted her teeth to stop her jaw from wobbling.

'God, Regina,' she said quietly. 'Did it… Did I hurt you that badly when I left?'

Immediately Regina's fingers were over her own, pressing her hand hard against her cool cheek. She closed her eyes and relished the feeling of Emma being pressed against her once more.

'Yes.'

'But why?'

'What do you mean, why?' Regina snapped before she could stop herself. Emma didn't flinch.

'I… drove you away,' Regina forced out, pursing her lips against her sudden, desperate desire to cry. 'It was my fault. I've always known that. I hurt us both and I have no right to complain, as if I was somehow mistreated. But… I'm so close to having you back again and I don't think I can go through it again. So… please don't get my hopes up unless you're actually sure of this. Because if you turn around tomorrow and say that you've changed your mind, I really think I might die.'

And with one look at her face, Emma knew she wasn't joking. Honestly, she wasn't sure she would be able to survive it either.

She nodded, stroking Regina's cheek with her thumb. 'Okay. Okay, Regina – then let's take this slow. I'm not having second thoughts and I'm not running away I promise. I'm not going anywhere. But I am being sensible. We're… seeing how things go. Slowly. Ignoring the fact that I'm still madly in love with you and always will be.'

Regina gave her a watery smile. 'You are?'

'Pathetically so,' Emma sighed, but she was smiling. 'If I didn't know any better, I'd say you bewitched me somehow.'

Regina laughed. 'If there was magic here, I honestly wouldn't put it past me.'

They looked at one another for a moment. Emma smiled. 'Come on. We really should get going.'

After a moment, Regina nodded and Emma released her chin, and the pair of them began to slowly, reluctantly pack away the food.

When everything had been stacked back into the crate and the last sorry candles had been extinguished, they stood up and smiled nervously at one another. Then Regina swayed on her feet, tilting to one side.

'Oh,' she sighed.

'You okay?'

'Yes…' Regina said, trying to smile. 'I just… I may have had more wine than I planned to.'

Emma blinked for a moment, and then glanced down at her own wobbly figure. She let out a snort of laughter. 'Oh, dear. So. Walking home it is, then?'

Regina smiled meekly. 'I'm sorry. I was… distracted.'

'It's really okay,' Emma laughed, nudging her. She picked up the large crate and watched as Regina stooped to collect the neatly folded blankets. 'I can think of worse ways to spend the rest of my evening than walking you home.'

The smirk that Regina threw back at her as they began to walk towards the trees was delicious. 'Excuse me, Miss Swan, but I invited you on this date. I think you'll find that I am walking you home.'

'You really think you're the dude in this relationship?' Emma grinned.

'Miss Swan, it's the 21st century. Just because I'm the one who wears the lipstick does not mean that you have the authority here.'

Emma laughed. They reached the car and Regina popped the trunk open. 'I would never dream of implying that I'm the dominant one in this relationship, Madam Mayor,' Emma said in a low voice. Regina turned to her with a smirk.

'A wise decision, Miss Swan.'

They placed the remains of their picnic in the trunk and Regina went to slam it shut. Then she paused – reaching back inside, she grabbed the two remaining bottles of wine. She screwed the top off of one and handed it to Emma.

'For the road,' she said. Emma grinned and raised it to her.

After de-corking the second bottle, Regina tossed Emma a blanket to wrap around her shoulders and picked one for herself. Then, grabbing her purse, she finally slammed the trunk closed and locked it.

She turned to see that Emma was already slowly, ungracefully, making her way down the road. Except—

'Emma,' Regina called, unable to keep the amusement from her voice. 'I think you'll find that you're walking the wrong way.'

Emma glanced around, her eyes fuzzy. 'What?'

'You're headed towards the town line,' Regina said, gesturing to the large signpost halfway down the road.

'Right you are, Madam Mayor,' Emma laughed, taking a swig of wine. Then she turned back toward the signpost and carried on walking.

'Emma?' Regina tried to call her back, but she kept on going. With a sigh and a sip of her own wine, she slowly and reluctantly followed her.

Emma reached the sign and peered up at it for a moment while Regina approached. You are leaving Storybrooke. She took another sip from her bottle. 'It's weird, isn't it?'

'What?' Regina said from some metres back.

'That there's a sign for leaving the town at all,' Emma mused, the words sounding jumbled in her head and even more so when they came out on the smoky air. 'Since no one does it. Bit of a waste of public funds, wouldn't you say, Madam Mayor?'

There was a pause, and then Regina barked with laughter. She threw her head back and joined Emma at the sign, pulling her blanket more tightly around her. 'You have a point, Miss Swan. I don't know how I possibly made such a grievous oversight.'

'That's what I'm here for,' Emma grinned, inching towards the sign. 'Fixing this town.'

Regina watched with a raised eyebrow as Emma stretched out one foot, the toe of her boot directly in line with the rusting signpost, and dragged her foot across the dusty road.

'You think that this town needs fixing?' Regina asked, half-amused. Emma gave an overly vigorous nod.

'Absolutely,' she said, looking down at the wobbly line that she had left in the dirt. It lay perpendicularly to the sign, cutting across the road. 'You've made a bit of a hash of it, Madam Mayor. Good thing I'm here to straighten things out.'

There was a loaded pause, and then all of a sudden she felt Regina's chin on her shoulder; her warm breath against her ear.

'That's odd,' she said quietly, relishing Emma's shiver. 'I thought that since you got here, thing's had gotten a bit less straight.'

Emma let out a nervous giggle that sounded nothing like her normal, throaty laugh. Regina smiled, and then moved back to her side.

'What's this?' she asked, nodding down at Emma's handiwork.

Emma took another drink. 'The town line.'

'And why?'

'It's just weird, isn't it,' Emma said thoughtfully, staring down at it. Almost without her thinking about it, her foot stretched out again and extended the line further on each side. 'How we're standing here, and that's okay. But if we moved a few inches forwards…'

She didn't finish her sentence, because she didn't know how to. Regina pursed her lips.

'Well. Not you,' she said. Emma turned to look at her. 'You could step over it any time you liked.'

Emma swallowed, looking down at it. 'That's true.'

She took a tentative step towards it, her toes lined up against the groove. Then she walked across it with one surprisingly firm step. Regina couldn't help the gasp that escaped her.

Emma turned back around, evidently unscathed, and shrugged. 'Well. That was anti-climactic.'

Regina breathed a sigh of relief. 'What did you do that for?!'

'I don't know,' Emma frowned. 'I decided to put everyone's theory to the test.'

'What if you can't get back across?' Regina snapped. Emma promptly took a step forwards, and was once more by her side.

There was a pause, and then Regina muttered, 'It was still idiotic.'

Emma grinned at her. 'Will you try?'

When Regina looked over at her, Emma couldn't help but flinch. Her eyes were cold. 'Why on earth would I do that?'

'I… don't know,' Emma faltered. 'To see what happens. I guess.'

'What if what happens is that I don't survive it?' Regina asked. Her voice was softer and evidently anxious, but her eyes remained hard. 'What if I forget who I am? What if, worse, I forget all about Regina, Mayor of Storybrooke, and instead go straight back to Regina, Evil Queen? Would that be a fun date night for you?'

Emma reached out at once and grabbed hold of her hand, squeezing it tightly. She pulled until Regina was forced to turn back toward her.

'I'm sorry,' she murmured, lifting Regina's hand and pressing her knuckles to her lips. 'I'm sorry. I don't know why I suggested it. It was stupid, even for me.'

Regina smiled weakly. The breath that she released was shaky.

'Emma, I…' she said, sighing. 'I don't know what will happen to me if I cross that line. You understand that, right?'

'Of course I do.'

'No. I mean… I really don't know. This town is my cage. It's what I always intended, but really… I never had any idea what that would involve. I might be able to leave and not get hurt, but I have no idea. I never considered it. I never thought it would matter.'

Emma swallowed. 'Because you thought you'd be happy here.'

Regina flinched, but nodded. 'Yes. I thought it would be my happy ending. I assumed I'd never need a reason to leave.'

'I'm sorry,' Emma repeated, squeezing her hand once more.

'I have to stay safe now,' Regina said, somewhat reluctantly. Like her personal safety was the last thing that mattered. 'For Henry. And for… well. Other people.'

Emma's face softened into a childish smile. She leaned forward and kissed Regina's cold cheek. 'For me, Regina. You have to stay safe for me too,' she murmured against her ear. Regina closed her eyes. 'I will be so pissed at you if you don't.'

'You will?' Regina asked shakily, breathing in the smell of Emma's hair as it grazed against her cheek. Emma tilted her head to one side and suddenly their heads were touching; their temples resting gently against one another and their hands firmly clasped between their bodies.

'Furious,' Emma said firmly. 'I need you.'

'You do not.'

'I absolutely do,' Emma said, pulling away to look into Regina's worried eyes. 'Who else keeps me in line or feeds me up or forces me to get eight hours sleep? You look after me better than anyone else has ever done, Regina, including myself. So don't come near this line again or I really will get mad.'

Regina grinned. 'You brought me here, Miss Swan.'

'Ah, and it was a test of wills,' Emma smiled, rubbing her thumb against the crinkle in Regina's cheek. 'Congratulations – you passed. You're officially smarter than you look. Now let me take you home, Madam Mayor. This crumbling wreck of a town needs you alive in order to fix all the mistakes you've made.'

And with that, she turned away and began to stumble down the road, the blanket slipping from her shoulders and the bottle of wine firmly attached to her mouth. Regina pursed her lips, trying not to smile. And then – grateful for her flat shoes, at last – she hurried along behind her, desperate to catch up and walk by her side once more.