Halfway back to Regina's house Emma began to second guess the amount of alcohol she'd had that night. Between the beer at Regina's and the martinis with the Queen she was feeling far more intoxicated than she thought was wise considering that she was actually thinking of confessing her love to her best friend and potentially destroying everything they had if she did it wrong. What if Regina thought this was all just alcohol induced insanity? What if Regina hadn't meant it when she'd asked to be kissed? What if it was just a heat of the moment thing and the Queen was totally wrong about how Regina felt?
She was so consumed in her thoughts that she hardly realized how far she'd come until she passed Granny's and realized that, between the crisp night air, the walk, and her worries, she was starting to sober up and that had her thinking that maybe alcohol was exactly what she needed in order to follow through. She could feel her footsteps slowing, feel her nerves taking over, feel her heart thundering in her ears from the combination of anxiety and the obnoxious way her blood seemed to thicken the more her post-drunk pre-hangover state took over. Her fingers found their way to her lips, still able to feel way Regina's and the Queen's had felt pressed to her own, so similar and yet so different. Finally, deciding that she needed to make a move before she lost all courage to do so, she poofed from main street back into the study at the mansion.
The fire was still burning, the blanket she'd wrapped herself in earlier lay draped over the arm of the couch, and her shirt was on the floor where she'd dropped it in her haste to escape. Her beer bottle was still on the coffee table, a ring of condensation having collected around its base and she was glad she'd actually remembered to put in on a coaster. The room was silent, save for the occasional crack of the firewood and the quiet fluttering of the flames, and it was only after turning in a circle to take the whole room in that she noticed the wine colored stain dripping down the doorframe and the shards of Regina's glass now shattered across the floor. Regina herself was nowhere to be found and Emma realized that she somehow knew, could sense, that it wasn't just this room that was empty but the whole house. It would seem that Regina had taken Emma's running exactly as badly as the Queen said she would. Emma sighed, her shoulder slumping inward and her head falling to her chest, silently berating herself for the mess she'd made of all of this. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on that part of her that could feel that Regina wasn't here, hoping that maybe it could lead her to where she'd gone, but all she felt was an odd fuzziness that increased the harder she tried to track Regina's magic with her own until she was literally dizzy. Regina, it seemed, did not want to be found. At least not right now, and not by Emma.
When Regina materialized in her vault she found herself in a little used room in the furthest recesses of the underground hideaway. It was something of a bedroom, smaller than the other spaces and far less lavish than the rooms closer to the entrance. It held a twin bed, the wooden frame of which had been beautifully hand carved for her by her father as a gift for her 5th birthday, as well as other belongings from childhood, the few she'd managed to hang on to despite her mother's attempts to rip the sentimentality out of her wistful, dreamer of a daughter. Her blue riding jacket, the one she'd always favored and worn on many of her rendezvous with Daniel, the one she'd been wearing the fateful day she'd saved Snow from that runaway horse, hung on the back of the door to a simple wooden armoire that held within it other precious items; Rocinante's favorite saddle, a fairly simple white dress she'd always loved and had worn several times in the days leading up to her wedding just to annoy her mother ("A dress that plain is hardly fitting of a Lady in Waiting, nevermind a Queen, Regina." "Well maybe I'm hardly fit to be one then, Mother."), and a tiara tucked into a velvet lined box that she had loved dearly since she was just a little girl though at the time she couldn't figure out why it meant so much to her, only recently having been given back the memories of meeting Zelena as a child and playing dress up together with sparkling crowns on each of their heads.
She hadn't meant to end up in this room, it was one she hadn't entered in over 20 years, she had simply aimed for her vault with the intention of being alone and this was where she'd landed. She could see light under the door and knew immediately that the Queen must be "home", was likely locked away in the main chamber working diligently on the cure to the sleeping curse, her presence in the vault the reason Regina landed in this room where she knew the Queen would likely never set foot. She was about to settle down on the bed, to try to steady her heartbeat that had been thumping away erratically ever since Emma's lips at touched her own and attempt to sort out her feelings on what had just transpired between them, when she heard a crash from somewhere beyond the door followed by a few growled curse words that she couldn't quite make out. Deciding that it was best not to leave a raging recently ex-evil Queen to her own devices, she sucked in a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and pulled open the door in order to track down her other half.
When Regina found the Queen in the main room of the vault she was surprised to see no evidence that she'd been working on the curse at all, no potion vials were out, the small cauldron that rested on a pedestal was empty, no spell books lay open or out of place. Instead, the Queen was standing by a the large ornate mirror that hung on the far wall starring daggers at her own reflection with one hand pressed tightly to her breast bone and the other sitting on her hip, knuckles turning white with how hard she was pressing into her own flesh. There were fresh tear tracks on her cheeks and a shattered martini glass by her feet. Regina could feel her mouth tilting up into an amused smile at the similarities between her own expression of frustration and her counterpart's when she began to notice the finer details of the Queen's appearance and her heart skipped a beat as her smile froze on her face. The Queen's vibrant red lipstick was smeared over her slightly swollen lips and onto the skin of her cheek, her hair was frizzing just a bit and chunks were pulled from usually flawless placement as if by hands and fingers that had been clutching and tugging at it desperately, and there were handprints still visible in the unforgiving velour that hugged the Queen's backside. Instantly the hint of a smirk on her lips fell, her stomach and heart following it as the Queen looked up and caught her gaze in the mirror, her face coloring with shame the instant their eyes met.
"You have got to be kidding me." Regina sneered, magic beginning to spark between her fingers like tiny bolts of lightning without her even consciously drawing it forth.
"Regina wait," The Queen spun around, her hands rising defensively as she took a half step backwards towards the mirror, "It's not what it looks like."
A mirthless cackle sprung from Regina's throat as she spotted the other martini glass sitting on the table by the chaise, a glass that she was certain had been Emma's.
"Not what it looks like? You mean Emma wasn't here? That she didn't run straight from me to you? That you didn't share drinks and what, laugh at what a fool I am, what an idiot I am for believing in something more than lust? Tell me those hands that clutched your ass weren't hers. Tell me you can't still taste her on your lips." Regina's voice was a grating hiss and it was so much worse than if she'd been yelling, the deep hurt she was feeling slicing away at the Queen with every word. She was about to speak, to try to explain and apologize and god, somehow make this right despite feeling every bit like she deserved Regina's anger for daring to kiss Emma as she had, but she was too slow to find her words and the next thing she knew she was being dragged back against the cold glass of the mirror, shivering as the naked flesh of her back exposed by the cut of her dress came in contact with it, her arms and body held in place by the now magically controlled metal tentacles that usually fanned out from its frame harmlessly. Regina stalked towards her, the sway of her hips and fierceness burning from her narrowed eyes every bit the Evil Queen she no longer was and the Queen herself felt a deep fear spring forth from her gut at being faced with her own betrayal fueled anger. She tried to call her own magic to the surface but found, much to her horror, that the righteous indignation she so often relied on was gone, replaced by guilt and shame and she had no idea how to power her magic with those emotions.
"Tell me what you did. Did you seduce her? Did you see the state she was in, her confusion, and pounce on it? Did you take advantage of her desire?" Regina was a breath away now, her head tilting to one side as she traced the Queen's features with her eyes, reading her as easily as she could read herself, spotting something in the Queen's expression that had an incredible amount of pain mixing with the fury in her heart. "Or was it the other way around? Was she the one seducing you? Is one of us just as good as the other? Or maybe she likes you better because you're a simple fuck." The last word was spit out harshly, her fingers coming up to grip the Queen's chin with unforgiving strength. "She can get what she wants from you, can't she? She can have your body without the pesky danger of your heart getting involved because we both know you wouldn't know how to love her even if you tried."
"Regina stop, listen-" The Queen's meager attempt at calming Regina was cut off completely when Regina's lips suddenly slammed into her own in a kiss so full of hatred that in nearly made her gag. Regina pressed on, clamping her teeth down on the Queen's lower lip and holding it in place while she ran her tongue along it before releasing her and staggering backwards. There were so many emotions dancing across her face, from grief to digust to heartbreak to sorrow, her hands coming up to cover her own mouth as she continued to stumble backwards. When her gaze met the Queen's again, as the grip of the mirror loosened finally and allowed her to pull away from it, it spoke volumes, an apology mixed with pure self-loathing. Her voice was barely a whisper when it managed to escape from between her fingers.
"I can feel her on you. I can't believe this is happening. But I shouldn't be surprised it's what I would have done."
And with that she was gone, vanishing in a haze of purple before the Queen could say another word.
Without a second thought the Queen raised her arms in a flourish and was swept away on her own purple cloud, determined to get to Emma before Regina could. She had to make sure Emma knew what was coming if she had any hope of stopping this disaster from getting any worse.