Standing in the middle of her own bedroom now, the Sheriff lets out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and she imagines that the comedown she'll eventually suffer from the adrenaline that has coursed through her body today will be severe. Her mind feels like a diseased tooth pulsing away inside her skull, but her heart feels full and her stomach flutters with butterflies.
I love you, and Henry loves you... The rest? It will fall into place...
She allows a smile to creep across her face before chuckling huskily as she imagines she must look quite mad.
Padding over to her bag and crossing her fingers that she's actually remembered to pack some form of hairbrush - having borrowed the brunette's this morning for minimal teasing in the hopes of looking mildly presentable - she finds that luck is on her side in this instance as she retrieves sadistic bristles along with a tube of mascara and some tinted lip balm she finds rolling around with the lint at the bottom.
Laying the items down on the dresser as she feels a gentle vibration against her hip, she pulls out her phone and spies the text message icon in the left-hand corner bearing an accusatory '3' in its centre. She supposes she must have missed a couple of unread texts earlier in her shocked state, as she had opened Regina's message, and Regina's alone.
The first unread text is from Mary Margaret
MM: Hi Emma, we hope all is going well over there and that you've managed to do what you needed to do. Please message us to let us know how you are when you get a chance. We wish you luck and will see you soon. Mary Margaret, David, Henry xx
To receive a 'family' message is a little overwhelming, to say the least, but she doesn't miss the fact that rather than referring to herself as Snow, Mary Margaret has kept her name familiar, and there is not a doubt in her mind that her housemate has done so with careful consideration for her feelings.
The second message is from Ruby
Deputy Lucas: Hello, Clarice... Hit a girl up and let her know you're still alive, please? Have you found Gold's kid yet? Is he hot? ;) Miss you lots! XOXO
Emma lets out an exasperated, noise in response to the waitress's question, and she makes a mental note to enter herself into the young brunette's phone under a similarly bemusing pseudonym as Ruby has apparently taken it upon herself to do in hers.
The text she's just received is from Mary Margaret again.
MM: Hi. Bit concerned that we still haven't heard from you, I hope you're OK... The weather is awful here and I found your good winter coat behind the door. Wrap up warm! Henry says hi xx
She rolls her eyes, but not unkindly. After all, the raven-headed woman checking up on her and worrying about her ability to dress herself appropriately is a habit that long precedes the breaking of the Curse.
She feels a momentary twinge of guilt as it's only now that she truly appreciates the fact rather than finding it infuriating.
Running a finger pensively over her bottom lip, she replies to Mary Margaret first.
I'm ok. Debt has been paid but will explain in more detail when I see you. X
Jumping to the next message, she relays much the same to Ruby
Hello, deputy. I'm alive, and I really can't answer that! I'll explain when I see you... You do? Personally, I'm stoked to be shot of you for a while ;) X
Pulling a face as she considers the schoolteacher's most recent message, she supposes there's no point holding back on the gushy stuff given that she's already promised to 'explain things', i.e. 'talk about them', to several people once she gets back home. Adding to her previous reply, she presses send before she can edit the message to suit her usual style.
PS. Relax, mom. I've got this. Sweaters and coats are being worn, I promise. Tell Henry his moms say hi :) Miss you. E. Xx
She chuckles at her own expense as she's fairly sure Mary Margaret will suffer a mild coronary due to the shock of receiving the latter of her two messages, but she feels incredibly good for it. Tossing her phone back in the bag onto the bed, she heads into the bathroom and washes her face with cold water.
She spies the more substantial makeup she'd used earlier before confronting Gold but leaves it untouched in favour of the items pulled from the bottom of her bag. She is neither a fan of the stuff, nor is she very adept at applying it, and she doesn't see much point in trying when she knows she's going to be spending her time next to a woman whose own technique is flawless.
Besides, certain comments have led her to believe that Regina in fact prefers the pale, imperfect features staring back at her in the glass, and she's not about to argue with something that requires minimal effort on her part.
She rolls her own eyes to save the brunette the trouble.
Pulling her brush through her hair with several hissed expletives, she shakes out soft curls once she's done; pulling her hair away from her face experimentally before deciding it still looks decent enough down and letting it fall back over her shoulders. She applies mascara and lip balm with the briskness of one used to doing their make-up in the bathroom stall of a bar rather than sitting behind the luxury of a dressing table, and assesses her face from both sides before deeming herself acceptable.
Padding back into the bedroom, she's about to make for the door, when she's struck by a sudden idea that has an impish grin spreading wickedly across rose-tinted lips.
Regina makes it twenty-six minutes before a much more confident knock to the one she'd received earlier comes at her door.
Smoothing down the freshly ironed pants she'd brought with her and fluffing her hair, she stalks to the door and opens it; smirking as she looks the blonde up and down and concludes her to look much the same as twenty-six minutes ago, just a little less windswept and weepy.
"You look exactly the same."
She teases, acutely aware of the way the Sheriff gives her an appreciative once-over to match her own. Her sarcasm is simply fed back to her, when Emma offers a sly grin and replies smartly
"My true form is the one that pleases Her Majesty most."
The Mayor offers this sentiment a withering expression, but her gaze flickers to softly curved lips without any pretence.
The younger woman susses the object of the brunette's attention and she smiles widely, before taking a step back to hinder the Queen from brushing soft scarlet against her prize.
"Wait, you wanted to do this properly, remember?"
"Go on..."
Regina sighs; curious, but bemused as she recognises that pixie-like glint in the Sheriff's eyes to be one of definite mischief.
Teeth bared, the blonde reveals something in the hand the Mayor had previously neglected to notice she'd been holding behind her back.
"What is that?"
The brunette inquires with a disgusted wrinkle of her nose.
"A corsage! You wanted a proper date, and the way it works here is-"
"-I know what a corsage is, Miss Swan, I'm a Queen, not an idiot. Where do you think the tradition arose? Perhaps I should rephrase my question in a way you might have more luck in understanding. What the hell is that?"
She points at the dirty tuft of gunk in the younger woman's hand and sighs theatrically as the latter feigns excessive hurt.
"I worked with what I had!"
The blonde cries, chuckling at the brunette's continued loyalty to her bemused expression and examining the soggy offering for herself before tossing it aside to land in the hallway in a way that causes the Queen's stomach to tighten, as this small act serves to make things for just a second as though none of the ordeal with Gold, with Emma being gone, with Bae, ever happened. It's something she would once have snapped irritably at the Sheriff for, and for this, she is truly thankful.
"Well, that was a bust. Can I use your sink to wash my hands?"
The blonde asks with that same sarcastic smile, and Regina kisses her swiftly - catching the younger woman's wrist as she does so, as, all love aside, she doesn't trust Emma for a second not to find it hilarious to wipe her hand on the expensive wool of her coat - before ushering her into the room to wash her hands as requested.
"Do I want to know where you got that... Moss? Was it moss?"
"It was growing on the windowsill."
"Delightful."
"Well... You know... I'm not sure if you've noticed, Madame Mayor, but I know a thing or two about wooing a woman."
"... Oh, god."