A/N: Sorry this is late! And short! I meant for this scene to only be one relatively long chapter, and instead, it has expanded quite a bit. Longer means it's going to take me longer to finish, and I assumed you'd rather have something now than something longer later. Here's hoping I assumed right, and that you enjoy this piece of the story.

Her ass was asleep.

The wood of the bench was hard, and growing cold as the evening progressed, but still she sat, the skirt of her dress hiked up to her knees, scuffing the dirt with her heels. She would've taken them off all together, but she didn't want to risk fumbling with them if she needed to get up. She should've changed before she came, but she hadn't wanted to risk missing her.

If she came, she wouldn't miss her.

Emma was sitting there in the night chill for what felt like forever just on the off chance that she knew Regina as well as she thought she did.

The stable doors next to her sat open, some of the horses still pawing around as if they sensed something was happening—Emma had picked the lock to the barn when she first got there. She hadn't forgotten all her old tricks, and it felt better hearing the horses there with her, even if she still wasn't all that comfortable around them.

Early on, she had brought the boombox out from where it sat near the hay bales, turning it on low to provide some accompaniment, only to find that one of the stablehands had interesting taste and that it was too much noise anyway.

As painful and ridiculous as they were, she needed to be sitting with her own thoughts.

She wondered if Rocinante knew what had changed between her and his master. She wondered if he'd forgive her. She wondered at how desperate she had gotten, hoping for an animal's hypothetical forgiveness.

Emma stared up into the clear night, the treetops just cutting into the field of stars. She didn't have a watch, no sense of time other than the loss of feeling and the progression of the moon. She'd wait until it got low before she left. She would've stayed all night, but she imagined Regina would have some sort of curfew and wasn't the kind to sneak out anyway. After some point, it wouldn't matter if she wanted to come here after all.

She'd wait. And if she were wrong, if Regina didn't come to the stables, if Regina didn't want to listen to her talk even if she did show, she would try something else on Monday.

It had been too long. The ache of not having Regina to talk to had evolved over the course of the week to something entirely separate from her hurt and anger at having ruined everything. It didn't help that Ruby's words were still tumbling around her head, all those joking references even before prom, her seeing something Emma didn't, or just didn't want to acknowledge…

Emma wondered what Ruby and Belle were up to. She wondered what tonight meant to them. And Tink and Hook, and David and MM, likely at some after party by now—maybe even an after-after party for Tink and Hook. But Regina. Mostly she wondered about Regina.

Then, as if appearing directly from Emma's thoughts, there she was.

The crunch of the gravel alerted her first, but once her head was up, it didn't matter at all. With the moon as bright as it was—all she could do was watch Regina.

She was even more beautiful than she had been at the dance, glowing even in black, her hair slightly mussed from the dancing and heat and from the crown that had sat upon her head, which now dangled from her fingertips. Emma watched as Regina stood staring at her, her other hand dropping its hold on her skirt to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

That was when it hit her.

It hit her and she didn't know why she hadn't seen it before. Ruby was entirely, 100%, she-hated-her-for-it, right.

And now it meant even more that she fix this.

"Emma?"

Regina had been regretting making the trip in her heels, but it was hardly the first or the worst time for her unsuitable footwear, and she just wanted, needed to see Ro before she went back home. Besides, she could change into the gear in her locker, her boots already calling to her.

But that rushed from her mind as she stopped, frozen on the path at the sight of something glittering in the distance, shining under the moon.

Emma.

As uncouth as ever, legs apart, elbows on her knees, hunched over, her princess curls hanging loosely over her front from her bowed head.

But as soon as Regina walked forward, trying to get a closer look and in the process coming into Emma's view, she shot up to attention, her eyes piercing even through the dark of the night.

And at the involuntary emission of her name from Regina's lips, the breathiest of questions, Emma shot up standing, her golden gown tumbling down to her feet and curls falling back into place.

For the first time that night, Regina was struck with how beautiful the popular golden girl was, practically glowing under the moon and without distraction from the dance or Emma's own reckless words, and Regina found herself drawing closer.

Emma was here. Emma was here. What she had been hoping for and dreading and how on earth had she known? She was here instead of in her daydreams, but with her eyes filled with sorrow and regret and pleading just like the good ones, and how was it possible that Regina just wanted to make her feel better, bring back that vibrant smile in exchange for her puppy sadness.

But she still didn't believe it. It had to be a vision.

"Emma." She reaffirmed, now close enough to spot the folds of her dress, but Emma seemed to be even more unsure than she was.

"You're here," Emma breathed.

She was just as awed, searching her all over just to confirm Regina was, in fact, standing there in front of her, but Emma was the one at her place, sitting on a bench, looking like she was waiting for her, so—

"Wasn't that what you expected?"

"It was…what I hoped," Emma admitted, now shier in her certainty.

Regina was still unhindered by reality, too caught up in what Emma was doing in a place she had been certain would be empty. A place she had been certain know one would know to find her. She could only think to ask the questions that immediately came to mind.

"How did you know I would come? How long have you been here?"

"I didn't know," Emma defended, already feeling a little bad for intruding on this moment but wanting to get everything out. "I just…I thought if you might want to get away, you'd come here before going home. I hope it's okay I did. I just, you can tell me to leave, but I need to apologize. For everything. For tonight," Emma pled, hating herself all over again for how she had handled things. "God, I'm so, so sorry Regina—"

"I broke his hand."

Regina delivered the news in such a familiar, self-assured directness that Emma was back to thinking she was imagining things.

"What?"

"Whale. Or at least one of his fingers," Regina clarified, almost coolly amused.

"You broke his hand?"

"Maybe just sprained it."

Emma was amazed and impressed and baffled and a little bit upset but all she could get out was one, vaguely approving—

"Regina!"

"He deserved it," she dismissed, wrapping her arms around her stomach. "You were right, Emma. I knew you were right long before tonight. I just didn't want you to be able gloat in that, too."

Instantly any amusement drifted away, faced with yet another of her follies. Of course Regina wouldn't be played by Whale. She wasn't just the smartest, she was the toughest, and a little false attention wouldn't sway her to do anything. Especially not after Emma had fucked things up. Entirely sobered, Emma gathered what little self-command she still had to entreat Regina.

"Would you—would you mind sitting here—just for 5 minutes, and if what I have to say doesn't mean anything, you tell me off and I promise I'll leave you and Ro? I'll do whatever you want, Regina, anything, I just need to tell you—I just need to talk to you."

Emma waited, trying to keep her hands from fidgeting. She wasn't going to burst in and have her say, not this time. She'd wait for Regina's okay or dismissal. And if it was a dismissal, she'd thank her and walk away, she would, working on something for Monday. And maybe another letter.

Regina considered Emma's request. Particularly the parallel to what David had murmured during their dance. Maybe Emma really would do anything, including leave outright, if that's what Regina demanded. But suddenly, she was overwhelmed with how tired she was of it all, everything from her anger to her aching feet.

She could just tell Emma to go.

But she didn't want her to. She hated that she didn't, but even with Emma's betrayal, Regina still felt—it still felt right. Just even to be around her.

"Fine."

Emma tried to contain just how thrilled she was at the allowance, moving away from the bench to give Regina a berth. As soon as Regina started moving towards it, Emma's eagerness turned to roiling nerves. She should've written this out. Her thinking of how to begin was promptly interrupted by Regina's cutting tone.

"Five minutes, Swan," she reminded.

Emma took a deep breath. What better way than to just jump right in?

"The bet was they could pick any girl in the cafeteria that day, and I would get her to be a finalist for prom queen so that they would have to campaign for someone else instead of me," she rushed.

"It was incredibly stupid and nasty and immature, and I was so quick to regret agreeing to it—not because I got my head out of my ass, but because of you.

"The moment I started learning about you, I wanted to know more—and as soon as we started talking, actually talking? Regina, that bet was the worst, but I owe it everything because I never would've tried to be friends with you otherwise—I would've missed you.

You're smart and funny and strong and intense and passionate and challenging and you don't take my shit and I think, I think…"

Emma thought about what Ruby had said and what she now knew she felt, but she couldn't get the words out, not now when everything was so fragile. She couldn't admit it just yet. But she could tell Regina absolutely everything else.

"I think you're everything," she avowed straight to Regina, not looking away. "You're my friend. My best friend. You're…I don't know, more than that. And I can't believe I hurt you. When I promised myself multiple times I'd keep that from happening, and then I go ahead and do it myself. I should've told you from the start. I shouldn't've taken the bet at all. I should never have kept anything from you. But more than anything, I shouldn't have made you feel like anything less than you are," she berated herself.

"I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I can't let you think that a single moment of this, of us, was fake."

Emma thought about all the times she had ignored her conscience in favor of fostering their relationship in simplicity. The first time she knew for a fact she was in it for real. The first time she had made Regina laugh.

"Not since Much Ado at the Farnsworth. Even before that! Everything I told you, every time I wanted to get together, every way I acted, it was real. I really wanted to know you. I really wanted to be your friend. I fucked up, massively, but please, please don't think I don't value you or all the time we spent together.

"I'd rather lose any bet a million times over than lose you, Regina. I can't lose you."