A/N: A small SPOILER and a warning: So this did go a little dark, and I blame Cora (and someone else, you'll see). Feel free to hate her for it. And for her magical abuse becoming a little more real…

Emma was still in an obnoxiously good mood.

She really didn't understand how, considering how Neal had almost ruined everything.

Again.

But instead, what had happened at the party had somehow made things better. She and Regina felt so much more real now. Still new, and raw, and maybe a little delicate, but they had exchanged secrets when neither of them liked doing so. They trusted each other.

Regina trusted her.

Emma had decided to ignore that niggling feeling in the back of her skull that told her this wasn't a good thing. Not when there still was a big secret between them. A big secret that everything was based on. But she couldn't help it. They were friend-friends in the way that Emma was with maybe only Ruby and Mary Margaret.

Even though their time together had been so short, it felt right.

After that moment under the streetlamp, they had just decided to head home, not wanting to go back into the party at all. Not when they had found a way to so successfully salvage the evening. Emma had promised that they'd get more dancing in, at least at prom, and then definitely over the summer with everyone's going away parties as she walked Regina back to her house. Regina had protested, saying Emma needn't bother, she was more than capable of making the short walk herself, but Emma had wanted to, content to spend more time in Regina's company, to end the evening on something more cheery than tales of her failed romance.

By the time Emma had gotten back to her bug, finding the party mostly dispersed, she was cold from the chill in the air, but warm inside in the goofiest kind of way. Regina had agreed to hang out the next day, or that she would do her best to—she had said something vague about her mother again, and work, but Emma didn't press, and Regina seemed set on making it happen.

Besides, Emma would get the story behind mom, behind work, behind everything eventually—probably—because they told each other stuff now. Real things. They had a future, beyond this stupid bet. A bet that Emma didn't even think about winning anymore. Especially since Neal had likely dented her own chances, at least at little. Maybe she could get people to vote for Kathryn instead. She wasn't as broadly well liked, but she could probably pull it off with the cheering and the looks and the smarts... Anyway, it didn't matter. She and Regina were real friends. And they were going to meet in town after Emma's usual Sunday brunch with Ruby, or as Granny called it, Ruby's Sunday distraction.

And it was just about time.

Granny had just kicked her out in anticipation of the church crowd rush like always, for as much as she liked Emma, she knew Ruby was half as efficient with her friend around.

Emma didn't mind in the least, bidding the Lucases goodbye as she headed outside to sit and watch the people streaming from the church doors.

Emma had never been one for church, but she did enjoy people watching, and religious gatherings tended to offer some of the best. She spotted the younger kids dashing out the door, their reserves of concentration absolutely spent; their parents, some genuinely invested and greeting each other with verve, some clearly wondering whether they just ought to give the whole thing up with the exception of holidays. The older couples, the widows and widowers, all getting in their fair share of social interaction, and making sure to thank the priest for his sermon. They all passed as usual. But then, Emma spotted someone she had not at all expected.

As the crowd thinned, out came Regina Mills, dressed in actual Sunday finest, walking slightly behind a woman who really looked quite like her, but harsher, colder (which was saying something considering how cold Regina could be), year-worn, talking to a balding man—Regina's father? No, Mayor Blanchard. Leo, Mary Margaret's dad.

Emma didn't know why she had assumed Regina wasn't the type for church, but she still didn't think she had been wrong to. Maybe it was the completely emotionless mask, or the way that her hands would seek out her jacket pockets only to be instantly removed. Emma had no real reason for it from outside appearances, but even at a distance, she just knew that Regina was incredibly unhappy in the situation. She would much rather be dashing off with those kids.

Emma looked around for MM, thinking her friend might be part of the problem especially since her dad was there , but she wasn't to be seen. Emma knew she went to church regularly, so perhaps she was still inside, hoping to avoid Regina?

By the time Regina and her mother and Mayor Blanchard had made it down to street level, she had her answer. MM had popped her head out the door, only to be seen by Regina's mother. She put on a brave face as Regina's mom waved her down to the group, before walking her a little further away, seemingly under the pretense of allowing Regina and Leo to discuss something in private.

That definitely did not seem like something Regina wanted to do, and Emma rounded a corner to get a closer look without exposing herself. Something about the meeting just didn't look right, and that was outside of Regina's clear tenseness. He was way in her space, in a way that Leo never had been when she had met him. He had always seemed like a really caring dad and great Mayor, but this conversation, on body language alone, had Emma recalling different men. Ones who sometimes hid their lesser qualities behind a pious front. She didn't want to think any of it—she was probably just overreacting, knowing Regina had some sort of tumultuous relationship with the Blanchards, but then the conversation was wrapping up and Leo escorted Regina back to her mother, his hand on her back.

And then lower.

Emma almost thought she had imagined it, but even after blinking a few times, she still was sure she saw Mayor Blanchard's hand lingering on Regina's ass.

What. Was. That.

Before Emma had time to process, MM was practically running away once Regina returned, pointing at her watch. Leo seemed to apologize on her behalf and said goodbye to both Mills women.

As much as Regina also looked like she wanted to leave, her mother didn't allow it, turning to her and drawing close. This lack of personal space was intimidation, threatening. A whole other set of connotations for Emma—and some less than fond memories.

Before she could observe more of mother and daughter's interaction, Emma spotted State Senator Gold headed right towards the pair. Regina seemed to, too, looking for a way out, but Cora grabbed hold of her wrist. And held a little too tight.

Emma had seen enough. Regina didn't need anymore of this. She left her nook to take off at a jog—something that still looked casual, but with her training and long legs was faster than anyone else could've managed. Gold was already discussing something with Regina's mother, but that didn't stop Emma from bursting in.

"Regina!" She called from a few steps away, drawing the attention of all three. "I'm so sorry to interrupt," she apologized to the adults before turning directly to her somewhat stunned friend. "I'm so glad I caught you—that assignment for English is really killing me, and I was wondering if you had a little time to spare today to help?"

The emotions that ran through Regina's eyes—confusion, fear, relief, worry—stayed visible only to Emma as Regina turned wordlessly to the adults, silently asking permission.

Her mother seemed none too pleased with any of it, but before she could speak, Gold cut in.

"Don't let me stand in the way of young minds," he warbled, bowing out. "See you at work tomorrow, Regina. Such a treat to see you at services again."

Emma didn't miss the way Regina's eyes blew wide at the last remark, or how purposeful Gold had seemed in its utterance. Regina's mom didn't seem to react—but Emma had the feeling she didn't know her well enough at all yet.

"You'll be home in one hour, Regina."

The woman didn't even acknowledge Emma's presence, just demanding this of her daughter, with a detachment that even Emma could sense did not mean well.

"Yes, mother," Regina replied, so desperately trying to keep her voice neutral and placating.

Regina followed Emma's lead away from her mother and down the block, rounding a corner and walking until they were sure they couldn't be seen.

Regina didn't know what to say. She had never intended for Emma to see her mother. Or to see her coming from church. And when Emma had entered, saying likely the only thing that could get her away…how did she know? How much did she know?

"Did I help or make things worse?"

Emma was looking at her intently, radiating a calm concern that Regina wasn't sure how she managed. So she did know. At least something.

Regina considered. They had been relatively fine that morning when they headed in. Regina had had high hopes for Cora's quick exit after services and that she could find a way out of office work for Gold. It was a Sunday, anyway, and she had finished most of what she could the day before. She could always trade him Monday afternoon if he insisted. It would be worth it for more time with Emma. But then…Cora had made some light rounds before they took their seats in the pews, and someone had clearly said something. Regina spent most of the sermon wondering what it could be—that she hadn't been going on Sundays when her mother wasn't there to make her, that Whale's party hadn't been the decorous gathering Cora assumed…she hadn't gotten any answers once the service was over, just seen her mother's rising tension. And now she knew that Cora knew about the skipping. But was that it? Or was there something else? And was there any way to escape it? At least now she had an hour to plan.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "But thank you."

Emma nodded, still contemplating her. Regina wondered at how much she had seen, but most of all, how this changed Emma's view of her. If it did. She felt exceedingly uncomfortable in the tweed jacket that her mother had insisted she wear, trying to keep from pulling at the sleeves.

"This isn't me."

Regina didn't know if she was referring to the clothes, the church-going, the association with Gold, the meekness she hated she felt around her mother, or any combination of it all when she spoke, but Emma shrugged all the same, unsurprised.

"I guessed as much."

Emma shifted a little on her feet, not wanting to push, but obviously curious, her natural instincts to find out as much as she could peaked.

"Your mom?"

"No one has ever been elected to major public office without a religion, and no, you can't choose, Kennedy was the one exception to the Protestant rule," Regina spat in half-imitation of Cora, her temper simmering now that it had room to grow.

Emma was surprised by the flare up, not considering that maybe Regina could be fiery if given the opportunity, if her walls were already on their way down. But she ignored it for the time, and the information it allowed her, in hopes of offering Regina some calm while they were still out in the open.

"That was her then?"

Regina gaped a little as she realized that was likely what Emma had meant originally, and she had just revealed more than she had to. Or likely should've, considering. She exhaled as her anger fizzled, replaced by a lesser sort of discomfort.

"Yes."

"And your dad?" Emma asked. Regina had mentioned him in passing, of course, but had never said much about him.

Regina couldn't help the little frown that found itself on her face at the thought. He was supposed to have come back by this morning, but she would bet anything he'd call tonight with apologies and promises of just another week.

"Out of town on business. He's Catholic, anyway," she felt the need to add, once again revealing more than she intended. Because Emma was smart, smarter than many gave her credit for, and she could practically see the blonde making connections about what that meant for her parents' relationship, for her and her father's…

But Emma still didn't push, accepting what she had been given. Something was on the tip of her tongue though, and if it wasn't about her or her parents, maybe Gold? Regina did feel ashamed for helping him most of the time, and it certainly put out the wrong message about her political ideals, but all things considered, it was the lesser of the two evils.

Maybe Emma wanted to ask her about that.

"Regina, Mayor Blanchard…" Emma hesitated not knowing how to ask what she wanted to ask, or whether there was a question at all that could encompass the whole situation.

But Regina tensed up, not knowing that Emma had seen any of that interaction and Emma suddenly wanted to avoid it all for the time being, except for one tiny thing she wondered.

"Does Mary Margaret know what he's like with you?" She decided to finish her question. "Is that why she seems so guilty?"

"What?" Regina looked aghast at the very notion. "No. She doesn't know. No one knows."

Though Regina's hurried assertions, Emma's investigative side just kicked in and she could no longer resist.

"Knows what?"

"Nothing," Regina replied automatically before pausing as if to reconsider. "Nothing," she confirmed with a shake of her head. "Just don't tell her what you saw."

"Regina—" Emma wasn't protesting telling MM—she had no intension of telling MM anything about Regina, but she wanted to know—well, anything she could.

"Don't," Regina dismissed her, rolling her eyes with a shake of her head. "There's nothing to tell. Honestly. He's just a little…free with his hands nowadays. That's not why Mary Margaret is acting however she's acting."

Even though Emma (mostly) believed Regina was telling the truth, it was sincerely creepy, and to not have anyone care, or likely even believe—she would definitely be paying more attention to Mayor Blanchard the next time she saw him.

"That's not—" Emma wanted to protest, but she saw—Regina didn't need it. She needed to forget all about that morning in the short time she could. "Look," Emma sighed, changing directions, "I know you only have an hour, so I won't make you talk about it. But you know—I don't care that he's the Mayor or Mary Margaret's dad, or about anything else—I'll beat him up for you if you want."

Leave it to Emma to make her feel better with the threat of aggression. Against one of the most powerful men in town. As much as she knew Emma actually wouldn't, she wouldn't have minded watching Leo get his ass handed to him. Because she had no doubt that Emma could do just that.

"That won't be necessary, Emma," she allowed with a smile. "But I can't say I don't appreciate the sentiment."

"Okay," Emma replied, smiling back, happy with Regina's relaxing form. "Offer still stands, if you ever change your mind. I could always just break his hand," she suggested casually.

"Well," Regina appeared to consider, "if his hands are ever anywhere near you, I think it's only fair." She decided firmly, only partially in jest.

"You know, I'd have to agree," Emma played along, though not doubting for a second that if Leo Blanchard ever did that to her, she would most certainly use the opportunity to permanently disfigure at least one of his fingers.

"So," Emma started again, "if I'm not spending the next hour working on making our esteemed Mayor less of a super sleaze without Mary Margaret knowing, can I buy you a hot chocolate at Granny's?" She asked. "And when I say buy, I mean Ruby will, and when I say Ruby will, I mean Granny will threaten to dock it from her pay but will actually just grumble about us kids."

Regina smiled a little at Emma's mischievous grin, clearly the beneficiary of many of these free drinks at Granny's expense. Regina hadn't been into Granny's in a while as she only ever went with her father, but she had to admit the appeal, particularly in the safety of the church-going adults and with Emma seeming so comfortable. She could put off being alone and Cora and thinking all together for a little while longer.

"I suppose I could agree to that."

The hour had eventually been good to think. Emma hadn't taken up very much of it, somehow knowing that Regina could use a long walk home on her own, and promising as she dripped the very last drops of cocoa on her tongue that they'd make up for it with lunch tomorrow and real plans later in the week.

Regina held onto that hope as she considered what she would be walking into with Cora, whether she had cooled off a little since church or more likely had simmered in whatever was bothering her until she was sure to take it out on Regina. But to what extent? Regina had decided that if it was about skipping church, she'd say she was using the extra time to study for the AP exams, which Cora would still punish her for, but hardly as much as she would for the truth, and if it were about the party, she would swear she had no idea it would be filled with such debauchery and she left as soon as she could find Whale to tell him as such. Again, it would hardly soothe Cora's anger, but it might limit it. It all depended on who had said what when. Gold in particular had a way of riling her mother when she wasn't ostensibly winning, whatever that meant at any given interaction…she may have dismissed his comment as trying to set her on edge, but more likely it was fuel for the fire. His games almost always left Regina the loser.

It was time to get it over with, because whatever mood Cora was in it was not bound to be pleasant.

She pushed open the front door with at least five minutes to spare before her imposed deadline, but Cora was already standing in the foyer.

This wouldn't be pleasant at all.

"How was that girl's paper, Regina?" She asked as if she knew it had all been a deception anyway. Regina still played along.

"It needed work, but I think I helped."

"Interesting she thought to find you at church, considering your lax attendance."

"Lax? Mama—"

"Don't interrupt," Cora spat. "Mayor Blanchard told me how good it was to see the two of us at services again—and I heard what Gold said, Regina. You haven't been going, not when I'm not here to make you. Is that so?"

"It's true, Mother," Regina admitted, knowing the alternative wasn't an option, but not without spite. All of her fear this morning was because of a few missed Sundays praying to a God she didn't even believe in? "But it's only because I was studying for AP exams instead. I thought that grades were always more important. Isn't that what you always want from me?" She declared, failing to rein in her annoyance. And realizing right away what a mistake that was.

"Don't talk back."

Cora's arm shot out like a cobra, her thin fingers clasping around Regina's neck.

It had been a while since Cora had last done this to her, but Regina knew not to fight back. She knew only to plead, but that wouldn't help her. It just wouldn't hurt. Right now, however, she didn't even have the opportunity for that as her breathing grew more difficult and Cora continued on.

"I heard something interesting this morning, something that made me very angry, dear. It was quite slanderous, a dreadful rumor I thought we had put to sleep, apparently rearing its head because of some altercation at a party?"

Regina did her best not to react to the news—so it wasn't just about church after all; it wasn't even about the party, but Neal. Neal, once again making her life difficult.

"Mama, it wasn't my fault—" She tried to gasp to no avail.

"Quiet," Cora spat, her bony fingers squeezing tighter as Regina fought every instinct to pry the hand from her neck. "Maybe I should only let you study, never let you out of the house at all," Cora pondered evenly, as if she were deciding what to have for lunch.

"Such a foolish girl. Maybe I shouldn't let you leave your closet."

The violence was one thing, but that, to be trapped like that—it had to have been years since she last was confined, but Regina still feared it more than any of her mother's other punishments. And with her father gone, there was no telling how long she would be trapped.

"No, Mama, please," she pleaded, her voice high and rough through the strain and the emotion, "I'm sorry, I'll be good."

"You are ruining your life, Regina Mills, after all I've done for you," Cora growled, her anger returning to the surface as she stared her daughter down.

Though finally, just as Regina started to see spots, she let go.

"You are to stay in your room until school tomorrow. And if you ever skip church again," she threatened, "I will not be so forgiving."

"Yes, Mama."

Regina could barely get the words out before she was rushing back to her room, hands around her neck, wishing she had had more than just a cocoa with Emma as her stomach already started to protest.

But now also hoping word would never get back to her mother about it.