Emma needed to loosen up a little more before returning to the confines of her apartment. The pain in her leg had migrated to her head, not an uncommon side effect of a run-in with the Mayor, and she figured she may as well go to the Pharmacy for a super-sized bottle of Advil while she was out. Odd, it was so quiet. An occasional car passed by Emma as she walked along and an occasional bird warbled from a nearby tree, but silence accompanied most of the blonde's journey to the drug store.

It bothered Emma, this quiet Saturday morning. She wasn't quite used to it yet, only having been in Storybrooke a couple of weeks, and she found it invited a swarm of thoughts into her mind. In Boston, she didn't have to chase away memories of failed dates or encounters with bail-jumping assholes – the cab drivers who seemed to be bucking for negligent homicide charges did that for her, as did the police sirens and throngs of pedestrians that polluted every street corner. Boston was the slayer of fire-breathing recollection, Storybrooke was its cave. If she couldn't find a way to adapt, she'd lose it, Emma knew it. Especially now that she was conscious of her attraction to the one woman in town who liked absolutely nothing about her.

"Ugh. I hope they've got a two-for-one on special," she mumbled to herself as she walked in, accompanied by a jingling bell.

…

A block away, Storybrook's Mayor continued her path to Ms. Blanchard's apartment, playing out the next few minutes in her mind. She had nothing scripted, which wasn't normally an issue. Speaking off the cuff and playing to crowds was her forte, but it was always more difficult with Emma. Sure, her acerbic wit was still in its holster and her resolve still in place when she conversed with the deputy, but there was an odd latency to all of it lately. Where she would normally deliver a counterpunch within a split second at Town Hall, she found her insults and patronizing remarks came only after a few blinks when Miss Swan was the target.

She would have to adapt, she realized. Emma had been here only a couple of weeks and already Regina's invincibility had become less convincing. "How the hell am I supposed to do that," she thought, now cognizant of her attraction for the one person in town who despised her most.

This would be a good opportunity for practice, Regina thought. No witnesses to the exchange, or her vulnerability. She tightened her grip around the coffee, finding its tangibility eased her back into reality. In her journey away from it, she had arrived at Mary Margaret's. Now, she found herself staring at a wooden door, holding her breath.

"This is absolutely ridiculous," she whispered to herself. She cleared her throat, straightened her clothes, turned on the "Mayor" switch and knocked. "Game on," she thought as a grin of superiority spread across her face.

No answer.

Not really what Regina had anticipated. Her smile faltered for a minute, as she considered leaving, but returned immediately as the door opened.

"Miss Blanchard," she said flatly, in a business-like tone. "It seems your tenant forgot something at the café today. I think it's admirable you entrusted her with any responsibility." She offered the coffee to a surprised Mary Margaret, using the teacher's change in focus to steal a quick glance inside the apartment. No sign of her, she thought.

"I wouldn't normally take such a detour on my way to the office, but I was feeling generous," Regina concluded.

Mary Margaret looked back up to Regina with a confused look. "That's strange. Emma should have been back by now. Do you know where she went?" she asked, sincerely concerned.

Regina scoffed. "Deputy Swan's off-duty itinerary is of no importance to me. Considering recent events, though, I wouldn't be surprised if she's off somewhere trying to corrupt my son. On that note, I have business to attend to. Enjoy your weekend, Miss Blanchard," she said, turning away from the door. Mary Margaret stood in the doorframe, her annoyance manifesting in a sigh. Never once had she had a civil interaction with Regina. It was bad enough having to withstand her condescension on a weekend, but at her own home? She had no idea Regina even knew her address, and honestly, that awareness disturbed her. Closing the door slowly, she considered the notion of Regina feeling generous. She laughed quietly and made a mental note to ask Emma what had really happened at the café.

….

Emma walked out of the pharmacy, plastic bag in hand. The weight in her hand gave her pause.

"Wait," she thought, looking down at her empty hand. "Shit," she said, realizing she had left Mary Margaret's coffee at the shop. She hesitated on the sidewalk, torn in two directions. She knew Regina was still at the coffee shop. The memory of that glance she was never intended to see pushed her that way, but the part of her that had become used to solitude pushed her back toward the apartment.

"I can't do this," she thought. She considered how absolutely ridiculous the situation was. The few experiences she'd shared with women had been the result of alcohol and boredom. Come to think of it, every relationship or date she'd had in the past 10 years had been the result of alcohol and boredom. She knew she had a fear of being close to anyone, and was fine with that. It made every bit of sense. It would just hurt too damn much to get a taste of what she wanted most only to lose it. Maintaining the status quo was her only protection. These internal pep talks had become a regular part of her life, and she'd already dusted off too many emotional cobwebs with Henry. Everything she was willing to give would go to him. She'd already dropped her defenses for him, and there was no room for anyone else in to come in and demand vulnerability.

"Really? Emma? As if anyone else would want to?" she thought, chastising herself for entertaining the idea. She laughed out loud and decided right then that she would distance herself from the Mayor. She was not a fool. She knew she couldn't dissipate the attraction she felt toward her – she was beautiful, headstrong, and brought out an energy in her that reminded her she was still capable of feeling, the latter having been accomplished before by no one.

She brought her hand up to the badge clipped to her hip, inside her jacket. She couldn't run away this time. Not from Henry, not from her responsibilities as a deputy. The metal under her fingers brought her out of her internal reflection. She would stay here, at least for now, and help Henry as she could, and stay away from Regina Mills.

But how does a deputy completely avoid the town's Mayor? For starters, she doesn't visit the coffee shop on Saturday mornings anymore…

Emma took a deep breath, steadied herself and lifted her eyes from the sidewalk. She headed toward the apartment, knowing her roommate would be forgiving of her forgetfulness. Besides, she had all afternoon to run back downtown and pick up that coffee. Thank God Town Hall wasn't along the way.

…

The Mayor stepped out from the apartment building, her heels clicking against the sidewalk. The sun was beaming and the sudden shift in brightness forced Regina to squint for a few seconds as her eyes adjusted. She was annoyed at what a waste of time that detour had been, and her body was full of tension. She had worked herself up in anticipation of another confrontation, and had been given no opportunity for release. If Graham was free later tonight, she supposed she could call him over to deal with it. His willingness to appease was his best attribute, and she knew he'd show up, tail wagging, upon request. Going through the motions in that way was monotonous as hell, but it was something at least – her only worry was that Graham would start to have real feelings. She shuddered thinking of what an inconvenience that would be, dealing with a fawning sheriff. Perhaps she would skip that phone call tonight, afterall.

Regina took a deep breath and exhaled. It did absolutely nothing for her, her body was still as stiff as a board, and she felt the ebb and flow of a slight ache in between her eyes. She started toward Town Hall, approaching the corner when the silence of this Saturday all of a sudden lifted. She heard a loud crinkling noise and footsteps beyond her view and suddenly was standing face to face with her antagonist. Within a second, she felt relief, anxiety, and vulnerability, but had a hell of a way of hiding it. She tightened her lips, stiffened her posture and resumed her earlier state of mind. She said nothing, and stared at Emma, waiting for fireworks, her stomach stirring.

"Madam Mayor," Emma stated matter-of-factly, hoping the dark haired woman hadn't noticed her quickly rising and falling chest.

"Deputy Swan," responded Regina, her voice smooth and unbroken.

"What are you doing here?" asked the deputy, kicking herself for not merely bidding her boss good day and continuing inside. A conversation was not the way to go about 'avoiding the mayor'.

"Not that it's really any of your business," said Regina, raising her eyebrows, but I was just returning something that belonged to Miss Blanchard. I'm a bit concerned, though, really, because I can't see how I can trust you with the safety of this town if you can't even remember a bag of coffee," chided the Mayor.

"You actually brought it by here?" asked a surprised Emma. She shoved her left hand in her pocket. "Thanks. Yeah, I was just really distracted this morning and all. Fortunately, no one got hurt," she said sarcastically. "You didn't have to do that. It's not really on your way to Town Hall. I was going to drop back by later on to get it. But, yeah, I appreciate that. I'm sure Mary Margaret does, too."

Ugh, this was awkward small talk. Emma just wanted to bolt upstairs and crumple onto the couch. There was no way in hell she was breaking eye contact with Regina, something that would have given the Mayor satisfaction, but the physical effects of Regina's gaze were becoming obvious, Emma was sure. She kept imagining Regina stepping forward, closing the distance between them, and replaying the mine scene in her head. But this wasn't the mine. This was a street corner. And her she was, standing in front of the Mayor on a street corner doing nothing but holding a bag and breathing heavy.

"If you don't mind me asking, Miss Swan, what on earth could be distracting you? You have no real friends here, no responsibilities other than paper-pushing on the night shift, no bills to pay as you're sleeping on a couch, and no family to worry about" Regina was pushing too hard, she knew it. This degree of insult was befitting of their first few conversations, but not now, not after the mine and their civil conversation this morning. She hoped Emma wouldn't think too much about it.

Emma felt sick. She felt as if she were being pressed into the sidewalk from above, like a bug under a sneaker. She knew Regina disliked her and wanted her gone, and Emma, herself, had decided she was going to detach herself as much as possible from this attraction. But, she hurt inside, and tried desperately to find any artifact of humanity in the Mayor's eyes that she had seen before at the mine and earlier today in the café.

Regina watched as Emma's mouth opened, and she prepared herself for an equally harsh remark, but nothing came. Emma closed her mouth and nodded, her eyes softening.

Emma tried to appear unaffected, and knew she needed to end this interaction immediately for fear of her vulnerability becoming apparent.

"So I guess we're taking that two steps forward, one step back approach, huh?" She laughed unconvincingly. "I think it's pretty obvious that we both share a point of distraction. It's kept us pretty busy the past few days," she said, having no idea just how true a statement that was.

Regina's mind flooded with memories of Henry at the mine, and then of Emma bringing him to safety, and then of the closeness they had shared before he was rescued. She remembered how close she had allowed herself to come to Emma, mere inches separating them at on that dirt mound at the mine. They were in similar positions now. Regina was standing in front of the blonde, a turbulence of emotion wreaking havoc within her, and she felt a desperate need for closeness. Only, at the mine, she had allowed herself to be herself, and, now, she refused to yield to temptation. She had to maintain control. She could not show any sign of weakness. She was Mayor in this town, and Henry's mother. Those two roles didn't allow for apologies or closeness now.

"Right," said Regina, feeling sick at the moment. She was tired of pushing down the intense desire to reach out and grab Emma Swan and to break down in her arms. She was tired of having no one. She didn't just want the blonde who showed up out of nowhere and brought her to life, she wanted Emma to want her in return. She was tired of wanting impossible things.

This had to end now. Tears began welling up in the Mayor's eyes. Emma noticed.

"…Regina…? Are you…?"

The Mayor cleared her throat and looked away quickly. "Deputy, I really do have to get to work. Enjoy your evening," she trailed off as she turned the corner.

Emma's thoughts were louder than Boston. She was emotionally and physically exhausted. She had decided she would avoid the woman who had been consuming her every thought only to be insulted by her 20 minutes later. And when she had lost every bit of hope of finding … hope…, Regina became emotional, though Emma was unsure why. But she had become vulnerable, again, in front of Emma, and it made her ache with longing. She wanted to hold Regina, and let her breakdown in her arms, and show her that she wanted her.

And so she was back to square one. Back to the mine and the coffee shop. And the subtle blush. And now, tears. And… had she called the Mayor by her first name?