Archive of Our Own

"Emma! Wake up. Cruella and Zelena's dresses aren't going to wash themselves!"

Emma Swan groaned as she took a look at the time on her alarm clock. It was 7:10 AM, which meant she hadn't woken up around six thirty like she usually did. She needed to get up quickly since her foster mother, Mrs Tremaine, wouldn't allow her to have her usual breaks if she didn't finish doing laundry and scrubbing the downstairs bathroom clean before nine.

“Great,” she muttered as she reached for her glasses on her bedside table. She took a deep breath before forcing herself to sit and pull on a white tank top and shorts that wouldn’t be too hot in the July heat. The weather forecast had promised almost 100 degrees for today, and Emma, for one, wasn’t looking forward to it, especially if she had to do a lot of gardening.

It was rather tiring, for sure, but it was still better than some of the other homes she had lived in. Her foster mother had never hit her like some other foster parents had, and when it came to the house she stayed in, she had certainly seen worse. Even though she only had a small attic room to herself, she still got to stay at a big house where the heating worked and food was never expired. If she did what she was told, she would have a place to stay at until she finished high school.

"And Lucifer made a mess on the carpet again so take care of that first!" Mrs Tremaine’s cranky voice sounded from down the hall.

"Great."

Lucifer, as it turned out, had decided to bring a mouse indoors and shred it into pieces on the living room carpet. Why Mrs Tremaine would allow that was beyond Emma, but she didn't question it since it was abundantly clear that the cat was more important to her foster mother than Emma would ever be.

Which was fine, really. She had managed her life long enough without having anyone love her anyway. She had recently met some people she could call friends at her new job in a nearby bakery, so she had definitely seen worse days.

Emma got a bucket, detergent, and everything else from the cleaning closet and crouched down to throw away the remnants of the mouse before scrubbing the carpet thoroughly. She was surprised Mrs Tremaine hadn’t told her to get it dry cleaned, but she stayed silent as she didn’t want to give her any new ideas that would make her day even longer.

"Oh, poor Lucifer," came a voice from the doorway, and Emma turned around. Her foster mother's biological daughter, Cruella, was standing by the doorway and picking the cat up. "She didn't even let you keep your mouse?"

"Lucifer tore it into shreds," Emma pointed out with an eye roll. "I'm only doing what your mother told me to do."

"Of course you are," Cruella said as a condescending smile spread on her lips. "That's what you're here for."

Emma bit the inside of her cheek to stay silent, a habit she’d picked up during the month she’d stayed at the Tremaine's. She wanted to punch Cruella. Why she had become this way was beyond her, although she assumed it had something to do with her mother. She couldn't wait for the day when she could fight back full force without being thrown out onto the streets.

"What did she do now?" came the high-pitched, accented voice from behind Cruella, and soon another girl of their age appeared next to her.

Zelena wasn't biologically related to Cruella, but she had been in the house longer than Emma. You could tell since she mimicked her foster family's posh London accent even though they were all living in a small New England town called Storybrooke. Emma wasn't even sure if Zelena had actually been to Europe.

"She didn't do anything this time, the clumsy thing," Cruella said, amusement clear in her voice. "She's cleaning after Lucifer like mother told her. I feel like he might need a bath, too."

"Shouldn't she be washing our ball gowns?" Zelena said as she threw her wavy red hair back.

"I'm doing it after this," Emma said as she turned around to the mouse shreds and rolled her eyes so widely she felt like they could fall out of their sockets.

"Good," Zelena said to her before she turned to her sister. "Aren't you excited? A fancy dinner party? It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yes, it has," Cruella agreed.

"I'm going to wear my green dress," Zelena asserted.

"That's good. Maybe you'll stand out and Mateo will notice you," Cruella said before turning her back to them and walking out of the house without another word.

Emma didn’t know where she was going. Now that it was summer vacation, Cruella had all the time in the world to make connections with other rich people and marry well so she wouldn't have to study after high school. Emma couldn’t keep track of what she did during the day, and quite frankly she didn’t care as long as she didn’t make her life more difficult by staying in the house.

Emma sighed. Maybe she should've been making a plan B like that, too.

She was finished with her foster sisters' dresses in record time.

"I'm not completely useless," she said to no one in particular as she hung the dresses in each sister's spacious closet.

Cruella’s closet was very different from her own wardrobe where she kept the bare minimum of clothing. When she turned around to take a look at the selection of her foster sister’s clothes, she was surrounded by colorful dresses and expensive jackets for every occasion. Cruella didn’t even wear half her clothes, but she still insisted on keeping all of them.

Emma knew that she would never be allowed to even borrow anything of hers. She would wear her faux leather jacket until it was too cold, and then she would have to start looking for a new winter jacket because Mrs Tremaine had insisted that her old one had been too disgusting to be brought into the house. It would’ve been fair of her to give Emma another jacket when she forced her to throw her old one away, but so far Emma hadn’t had such luck.

She also felt like the shoes Cruella and Zelena had could be the selection of a small shoe store. It was ridiculous, the amount of expensive shoes they had. Emma would have to work so hard to earn enough money to buy one pair, and they were just sitting there unused. What a waste.

She shook her head. She didn’t have time to think about things she didn’t have when she had errands to run. Being petty would get her nowhere. What would get her somewhere was getting Mrs Tremaine’s grocery shopping done before noon, so she got into Mrs Tremaine’s Bentley and drove to the closest store that would cater to her foster mother’s expensive tastes.

When she got out her foster family's car, a couple dressed in fancy clothing gave her a look . She wasn’t surprised by it; she had seen it enough times before to know what it was straight away.

She wasn’t dressed like the people in that neighborhood usually were. She was wearing a dirty white tank top with holes in it, old ripped shorts, and her hair in a messy bun. Her face was most likely smudged from all the bathroom cleaning too since she had decided to shower only after her trip to the grocery store. She looked as poor as she was, and apparently that made the rich couple uncomfortable as they kept staring at her, condescension clear on their face.

"I didn't steal the car; I'm just here for groceries," she said to the couple's face as she took her red leather jacket from the back seat of the car and walked into the store. Maybe the jacket would look cleaner than her tank top, and at least she wouldn’t get cold with the excessive air conditioning of the store.

Who even ate gluten free if they didn't have celiac disease or an allergy? she thought as she took a look at her grocery list and fought an urge to groan.

She took one of the shopping carts as she kept reading what Mrs Tremaine needed this time. She was so immersed in the odd list of ingredients that she didn't realize she was moving her shopping cart towards someone else's before it was too late.

Crash.

"Shit," she said before she could remember that she was in a fancy rich people store and no one would speak like that there without it being Really Improper.

"Excuse me," said the person who she had just crashed her cart into.

"I'm sorry ma—" Emma started, but the word died on her lips when she saw that the person she had crashed her cart with was her age. Not a ma'am at all. "I'm really sorry about that."

The girl scrunched her brow, and god, she was really beautiful. Probably the most beautiful girl Emma had ever seen — not that she ever paid that much attention, of course. Her dark curly hair reached over her shoulders and her brown eyes were studying Emma in a way that made her feel like she was under a microscope. Her clothes were fancier than Emma's, and suddenly she wished that she had changed after cleaning the house. Her leather jacket didn’t exactly match the rest of her attire, and she didn’t even want to think about how her face and hair looked.

"Do you just crash into other people’s carts for fun or don't you know how to look ahead?" the girl asked, but she didn't seem particularly upset — sarcastic more than anything.

"Sorry," Emma said again, "I was reading this list my... foster mom gave me and I don't know where to find any of these ingredients."

Something Emma said must've aroused the girl's interest since the look in her eyes changed and she left her cart to move closer to Emma. "Let me take a look."

"Really?" Emma asked, and maybe it wasn't the most eloquent response, but at least she hadn't lost her capability to speak.

"Yeah," the girl said as she got so close to Emma that she could smell her shampoo. "My mom is really fond of the food sold here and I might know how to find some of these."

"You really don't have to—"

"Give me the list— what's your name?"

"Emma," she replied.

"Give me the list, Emma," the girl said as she extended her hand.

"Okay," she said, unable to do anything other than obey whatever the girl said.

"I'm Regina, by the way," she said as she went through the list.

Regina, as it turned out, knew how to find everything Emma had been looking for in the store, and Emma was finished with Mrs Tremaine’s shopping faster than ever before.

"Mother has been sending me to the store after she let our last housekeeper go, so I know how to get around here," Regina explained as she eyed the selection of handmade pasta in aisle six.

Emma raised her brow. "Yeah?"

"Yes," Regina said, but Emma could hear from her tone that that was the end of the discussion. "I believe this is the pasta you were looking for. Handmade and corn."

"Thanks," Emma said as Regina put the bag into her shopping cart. They stood there in the hallway for a moment in awkward silence, neither of them saying anything, until Emma felt like she should probably continue with some kind of small talk. "Let me know if I can, I don't know, make it up to you somehow."

Regina's narrowed her eyes, regarding Emma suspiciously for a moment. "Are you asking me out?"

"What?" Emma said, louder than necessary. She could feel her face turn red. "That's not wha— I didn't mean to."

Regina still eyed her suspiciously. "Alright, Emma. I’ll see you around," she said as she started rolling her cart towards the register, her poise regal and her hips swinging as she walked.

Emma stayed gaping after her for several minutes.

Why did Regina think that Emma had been asking her out? She had merely offered to pay back the favor Regina had done for her. She hadn't meant to imply— she didn't even like girls.

She kept telling herself that and going through the same thoughts over and over again until she made it back to the house. Her foster mother wasn't there, and neither were Cruella and Zelena, so she had the place to herself.

That evidently meant thinking about Regina even more, so she wasn't sure if it was a good thing. Why had she thought Emma had been asking her out? She hadn't been flirting. She hadn't done anything.

But that brought another thought into her head: would Regina have wanted to go out? Would she have said yes if Emma had been asking? Would Emma have wanted to go out with her?

She had never thought about herself that way. She had never thought that she would be with a girl; she had been too busy trying to survive in the foster system to even think about it. She had been with a guy once and she had liked how loved and wanted he had made her feel, but that hadn't worked out when Emma had taken the fall for both of them shoplifting and he’d left her.

She sighed. It didn't really matter, did it? Regina could've lived far away for all she knew and maybe she had just been joking.

She was still the most beautiful girl Emma had ever seen, and—

"We're back!" Cruella's shrill voice sounded from the front door before it was slammed closed.

"Great," Emma muttered under her breath as she placed the rest of the food into the kitchen cabinets. There were plenty of them and she felt like she'd finally learned how to arrange the food inside after her Mrs Tremaine’s several outbursts over misplaced ingredients. Apparently the old housekeeper had been better with her precious food items.

She had also been paid for her job whereas Emma was practically a free maid for them.

"I'm so excited for the party, Mum," Zelena said as she walked into the living room. It was right next to the kitchen, so Emma couldn’t have opted out from listening to the conversation even if she’d wanted to.

"As you should be. I want both of you on your best most presentable behavior,” Mrs Tremaine went on.

"For the rich Mateo de Alva, yes, we know," Cruella said. "I dunno, though. I'd rather have James."

"James who?"

"James from the golf club," Cruella responded.

Emma walked to the living room door while her foster mom explained to Cruella that she should keep her eyes on the most rich eligible bachelor of the town instead of lusting after James. Mrs Tremaine was strongly of the opinion that James was nothing but a player who would spend all the money that was given to him on parties instead of ever obtaining education and a prestigious job and high position in society.

"You can have James, and I'll have Mateo," Zelena muttered, although Emma wasn’t sure if it was just to please Mrs Tremaine.

"See?" their foster mother said. "This is what I'm expecting of you tomorrow night.”

"What's happening tomorrow night?" Emma asked, finally revealing that she'd been listening.

"Did you finish putting away the groceries?" Mrs Tremaine asked instead of answering.

"Yes," she replied. "What's happening tomorrow night?"

"Oh. Everyone who's anyone—" Zelena started.

"The whole family," Cruella interjected.

"—was invited to the de Alvas’ masquerade ball," Zelena continued. "And Mateo got accepted to Harvard and he's single, so we're going."

The whole family that she was not a part of, even though Zelena had originally been fostered just like her.

"It's going to be fabulous," Cruella said. "The dresses, the mansion..."

"The chocolate fountain," Zelena added.

"Keep your eyes on the prize, Zelena, and stop thinking about food," Mrs Tremaine snapped. "You've gained some weight, so you should probably skip dinner tonight to fit in your ball gown, anyway."

Zelena bit her lip and stayed quiet. Emma had noticed that sometimes Mrs Tremaine seemed to be more strict towards Zelena than Cruella, so maybe the fact that she had been originally fostered had an impact on how she was treated. Her closet wasn’t even quite as full as Cruella’s, and she drove an Audi instead of a BMW.

"Who cares about a stupid chocolate fountain, anyway?" Cruella added. “The room is full of rich men.”

Emma wanted to ask why she couldn't go, but she felt like it was self-explanatory. She would never fit in at a rich people's party. She wouldn't even have anything to wear, even though Cruella and Zelena technically had a lot of clothes they could lend her for the night.

They would just never do that. They would never even allow her to even be there because they saw her as some sort of absurd competition, even though she only wanted to see the chocolate fountain. She had never been to a fancy party before and she was intrigued.

"It's good that we have you to watch over the house while we're gone," Mrs Tremaine said, her voice stern and her eyes boring into Emma's. "We wouldn't want to leave things unattended for such a long time in the evening, would we?"

"Of course not," Emma said before quickly adding, "I need to go get ready for work now."

It was a miracle that her foster mother had even let her keep working outside the house when she had first moved in. She always wanted Emma to do something for her, whether it was getting something from the store, scrubbing every possible surface of the house, or cleaning after her monstrous cat.

She was a maid in her home and she tried to balance that with her actual job at a nearby bakery, Granny’s. She enjoyed her job at Granny’s more — she could get a free bear claw after she'd worked for more than four hours and she even got paid. Granted, it was only slightly above the minimum wage, but still.

She even had made... friends of sorts at work. There was Mulan, who much like Emma wasn’t really passionate about baking but wanted to pay her bills. There was Marian, who Mulan was totally into but she didn't do anything about it, and then there was Ruby, the owner's granddaughter. They were a lively bunch and had welcomed Emma to their working team with open arms, which had originally made Emma suspicious because no one had been that nice to her before without a catch.

"Wait, so your whole family got invited, but you need to stay back to look after the house?" Marian said, her mouth gaping open. "How rude can they be?"

"They're not my family. I don’t have one," Emma said as she put on her apron in the back room. Marian was taking hers off, her shift ending when Emma's started.

"I'm sorry, but still," Marian said as she followed Emma out of the back room. "You can't just not go. You deserve a nice party once in your life."

"What's happening?" Mulan asked. She was behind the register, but the bakery was relatively empty apart from a girl immersed in her book by the window and a couple shooting lovey gazes at each other.

"Emma's family got invited to a fancy party and she's not going," Marian explained before Emma could open her mouth. "Because she lives with a bunch of assholes."

"You should go," Mulan said. "When is it?"

“It’s not like a party is my thing anyway,” Emma said, but she was met with expectant faces. She sighed. "Tomorrow night."

"Perfect," Marian said.

"Perfect? I have a shift before that, and after that, I need to watch the house."

"I'll cover your shift," Mulan said with a shrug.

"And no one will know you're not gonna be at your house," Marian added, her expression turning more and more excited. "Honestly, I can go with you. I've been there before."

That took Emma by surprise. "You have?"

"Yeah, I know one of Mateo’s cousins." Marian shrugged. "I can ask her to put both of our names on the list."

"But—"

"You'll get a fake name," Marian whispered, her eyes conspiratory. 

This was crazy. She couldn't actually go to this party, could she? Her foster sisters and mother would recognize her—

It was a masquerade, though. But then again, that brought her to her next question.

"I don't even have anything to wear," she said. “I am not going to borrow anything of my foster sisters’. If I run into them, they’ll know. ”

"You could wear my older sister's prom dress," Marian said. "It's there just sitting in the closet and it'd most likely be a perfect fit."

"It's a great plan, Emma," Mulan said, her admiring eyes on Marian.

She felt overwhelmed. It would be ridiculous to go, yet Marian and Mulan’s arguments made a lot of sense.

"Chocolate fountain," Marian said suggestively.

"Okay, whatever. Fine.” She threw her hands up in the air and sighed. It couldn’t be that bad, right? As long as her foster mom didn’t find out, it would be okay.

“Great!” Marian said and clapped her hands together. "See you guys. I'm gonna text my friend and get our masks and dresses ready."

Dresses. She supposed she could do it for one night. She wasn't that much of a dress person usually, at least not to the ball gown extent.

"All you have to do is come to my house tomorrow at five thirty and we'll have a good hour or two to get ready," Marian said as she made her way to the door. "See you!"

"What the hell just happened?" Emma muttered to no one in particular.  

"You're going to a ball, Emma Swan," Mulan said. "And you better be going because Marian is so excited and you promised."

"Would you have wanted to come with us?"

"I'll pass,” Mulan said and rolled her eyes. “ Not really a ball gown type of person."

"You could wear a suit, you know," Emma said, wiggling her eyebrows. "Marian's gonna be there."

Mulan sighed. "No."

"Really?" Emma asked. "You're not interested in going to a ball with Marian?"

"She didn't even ask me to go,” Mulan said casually, although she seemed like she was hurting. “She's not interested."

"So not true," Emma said. She knew Marian was interested. They were both flustered around each other, although Marian hid it better under her bubbly personality.

"I have a shift," Mulan protested.

"Until when? Nine? You can easily come after that."

"I don't know..." Mulan said, but it was clear to Emma that she was now actually considering it.

Emma pulled her phone out of her pocket and started writing a text. She would show Mulan that Marian would want her there.

"What are you doing?" Mulan asked her.

"Sending Marian a message," Emma responded casually.

Mulan’s voice raised in alarm as she moved closer to Emma. "Wait, why?”

"Sent!"

"What did you say?" Mulan asked, her voice still high.

She showed Mulan the screen.

How would you feel about Mulan coming with us after she's finished working tomorrow?

"See? Cool and casual. Just asking," she pointed out. Nothing bad could come from asking.

Mulan looked at her judgingly and ran a hand through her shoulder-length dark hair. "I don't know, Emma..."

"Look, she replied!"

She showed Mulan the screen that read, That sounds awesome! Tell her I can't wait!

"See?" Emma said.

Mulan groaned.

Emma couldn't make it to Marian's house by 5:30 PM because Mrs Tremaine waited until 8:30 PM to even leave for the party. This led to Marian bringing the dresses to her house — right after Emma had made sure the coast was clear and no one would see them, of course.

The dress Emma was supposed to wear turned out to be huge. Not several sizes kind of huge, but huge as in she didn’t know how to move around people with a hem that could’ve hidden at least two other people underneath it.

"I can't believe I'll be wearing this in front of people," she said as Marian laced the strings of the corset behind her and pulled too hard. “Ouch.”

"It's all the more unlikely for anyone to recognize you in this," Marian reasoned with her. "Or in the mask."

Marian had really gone all out on the mask; it matched Emma's red dress and hid her face completely, so she couldn't really be recognized by anyone who wasn't already suspicious of her. There would be plenty of blonde girls of her size at the ball. She wouldn’t even be wearing her glasses; she would be fine apart from some minor navigation issues.

She had still curled her hair just in case. She didn't want to look like herself and risk her foster family finding out. She had one year — two semesters — left before she would finish high school. One year and then she'd hopefully find a way to truly make it on her own. She didn't want to spend that time in a home that would most likely be worse than the one she was in now.

"Okay, and we're done!" Marian said and turned Emma around to face her. She was wearing a silky lavender dress far simpler than Emma's. Emma wished she was wearing it instead. "Showtime."

Emma took a look at her reflection before leaving the house. The lacy ball gown wasn't like anything she'd worn before, but she could've ended up with a lot worse. With the dress and her mask she would be able to hide herself from her foster family (at least as long as she didn't have to talk to them).

The house — a mansion, really — was huge compared to the one Emma lived in. Even though Mrs Tremaine’s house had three stories and a basement, it was still a house. A prestigious one with a small pool, a garden, and a few unused bedrooms, for sure, but it wasn’t quite a mansion like this one. The house Emma entered now had a driveway, valets, chandeliers, and grand marble staircases that led upstairs on either side of the main entrance.

She supposed it was no wonder her foster mom wanted one of her daughters to marry Mateo. That would bring her family even more wealth.

It was a chilly night so Emma had brought her red leather jacket with her, but she quickly took it off once she saw all the guests in their best party attire, which most definitely did not include faux leather jackets. She left it on one of the seats where she saw some other (far fancier) jackets and purses.

The main hall was filled with people mingling and holding champagne glasses, and at the end of the corridor, Emma could see a large pool and fairy lights.

"What the hell is this place?" she said to no one in particular. A redhead in a green dress turned her masked face towards Emma, but she barely noticed. There were butlers, champagne, and... something that looked a lot like a chocolate fountain. “Oh, my god.”

"There's your fountain," Marian said as her phone beeped. "You can go ahead. Mulan's about to get here, so I'll go get her first."

Emma nodded, unable to fully concentrate on what Marian was saying. She made her way through the crowd as gracefully as she could until she was facing the chocolate fountain.

It wasn't a huge fountain, but there was still chocolate pouring out of it, so Emma followed two other guests' example and took a strawberry from the silver tray in front of the fountain and dipped it in chocolate. She tried to keep her face hidden as well as possible while she ate as much as she could without seeming out of place.

Her actions came to an abrupt halt when she saw Mrs Tremaine walking towards the fountain with an elderly man Emma recognized as Leonard White, the mayor of the town.

She quickly turned around and made her way towards the pool. There were people gathered around it, but no one was actually swimming. Emma felt the urge to take off her dress and mask and go bask in the water, but she knew that would be completely out of the question.

She was still having a good time just looking around as she waited for Mulan and Marian and listened to the classical music that a small orchestra was playing inside. That was until some creep with an Irish (Emma was pretty sure it was Irish) accent came to blatantly hit on her.

"Fancy a swim?" the guy asked.

"I'm good," Emma said with a tight smile. In addition to the fact that she simply was not interested, Emma was pretty sure he was too old for her anyway, in his late twenties despite acting like a teenager.

"You sure, love? I know a private pool party just around the corner if you'd like to join me," he continued with that weird smirk on his face.

Did anyone actually fall for this kind of flirting? Sure, he was probably handsome as far as men went, but something in his eyes behind his simple black and red mask (or maybe the fact that he couldn't even keep them on Emma's face instead of her cleavage) gave Emma the creeps.

"I'm fine," she said, hoping that he would finally take the hint.

"Hey, no need to be rude. I was just trying to be nice. I—"

"Enough, Killian," said a cold voice behind Emma. "Leave my date alone and go somewhere else."

Emma turned around and saw a girl a bit shorter than her standing behind her. She was dressed in a light blue princess dress, her dark hair was pulled up in a fancy hairdo, and her mask covered only her eyes.

"Oh, a date?" Killian said and wiggled his eyebrows again. "Would you like to make that a date for three?"

"Leave now or I'll talk to my cousin," the girl said, her voice full of ice. "And please do hit on women of your own age for a change."

The guy looked angry for a moment, but by some miraculous reason something the girl had just said made him turn his back on them and leave the pool area.

Emma turned around and was faced with the girl again. She was beautiful. Emma didn't know what it was with her constantly running into these beautiful girls lately, but she wouldn't complain.

"Sorry about that. The date thing usually works... unless you're a creep like Killian and take that as an invitation for a threesome," the girl laughed and extended her hand. "I'm Regina."

Regina.

Well, that would explain her running into beautiful girls constantly. Or more like the same beautiful girl.

Emma didn’t know what to say to Regina. She shouldn't let her know who she was, should she? She wasn't supposed to be here. Her name wasn't even on the list. She couldn’t even remember what name Marian had put on the list.

"I'm... Ashley," she said as she held Regina's soft hand. She tried to sound different from what she had sounded like in the store the previous day, but she didn't know how convincing she would be.

Apparently convincing enough, though, since Regina didn't seem to react to her words with any suspicion.  "So, Ashley, what brought you to this party? I've heard many people came because Mateo is single and wealthy," she said expectantly.

"Oh, I don't... really care about that,” she admitted quietly as her gaze inadvertently went to where the chocolate fountain was.

"Really?” Regina said. Emma couldn’t tell if she was genuinely surprised or just being sarcastic. “Then someone else.” Pause. “Something else."

"I..." Emma started, wondering if she should be honest. Then again, why not, since Regina didn't even know who she was. "I came for the chocolate fountain. It was pretty cool."

Regina laughed. It wasn't a malevolent laugh; it was a beautiful happy laugh that made Emma's heart beat faster and her cheeks burn. She was happy she was wearing the mask.

"I'm sorry," Regina said. "It's just that during all the years I've gone to these parties, I haven't heard anyone older than twelve say that."

Emma felt her face burn as red as a tomato underneath the mask. Why did she have to act so silly around Regina? And more importantly, why did she care so much?

"Do you wanna go to the chocolate fountain again?" Regina asked her, a smile on her lips.

She could’ve easily acted offended, but her mouth had other plans as she uttered an "Uhm, sure," in an oddly strained voice.

Regina took her hand (she took her hand! ) and led them back inside to the chocolate fountain. Emma couldn't see anyone from her foster family in the packed room, so she tried to relax (as much as she could with Regina's hand still in hers) and concentrate on the fountain in front of her.

Emma would've never believed that anyone could take her attention from a chocolate fountain, but Regina was something else. She let go of Emma's hand and took one of the strawberries from the shiny tray in front of them before dipping it into chocolate and taking a bite of the berry. Emma's eyes were fixed on her mouth, on her lips, and if she hadn't been sure about not liking girls before, Regina was making her sure now.

She gulped audibly and cursed herself for acting like such a fool in front of Regina.

"Are you okay?" Regina asked her, the eyes behind her ornamental silver mask worried.

"Yeah, I'm great," she said, feigning nonchalance. She didn't know what to say. She felt like everything that came out of her mouth would sound stupid.

"So, you're here for the chocolate fountain but not my wealthy cousin or any other eligible bachelors, am I correct?" Regina said as she dipped another strawberry in chocolate.

"Yeah, I... Yeah, that's pretty much it," Emma said truthfully.

"What about bachelorettes?" Regina asked, causing Emma to almost flip the tray she was aiming for.

"Sorry?" Emma said even though she had heard what Regina had said. She just wanted to hear it again.

"Oh, just wondering if you were interested in any of the women here, but I suppose not," Regina said, taking another bite of her strawberry.

"I... don't know," she responded.

"Try this,” Regina said, a chocolate-covered strawberry in her hand. Before Emma could stop it, Regina was lifting her mask — just slightly to get to her mouth and push the strawberry to her lips (to her lips! ).

She was sure the strawberry tasted great, but she could hardly concentrate on that. Her lips and jaw were burning where Regina's fingers had been, and she needed to use all her willpower to concentrate on biting the berry and putting her mask back in place.

"You like it, Ashley?" Regina said, emphasis on the name.

"Yeah, it's really good like this," she answered. "Thanks."

There was a slightly awkward silence during which Regina dipped another strawberry in the fountain and bit on it. Emma supposed it would be as good a time as any to ask her what she had always wanted to ask. Regina didn't know who she was, after all.

"How about you? See anyone interesting here?"

"Hmm," Regina hummed as she wiped her fingers on one of the napkins next to her. "Possibly. But I did meet someone in the grocery store the other day and I was hoping they'd ask me out."

"You—" Emma said, but she was interrupted by a middle-aged woman in a red and black gown approaching them.

"Regina! I have looked everywhere for you!" the woman said in an accusatory tone. "You shouldn't be eating. You should be making all the important connections we talked about."

"Right, mother," Regina said in a way that implied they had had the same conversation before and they were both tired of the other not listening to them.

"Really, Leonard White’s son is here for the summer and you do remember he got into Yale, don't you? It would be most wise if you went there and said hi," the woman continued. “His little sister adores you, too.”

"Right," Regina said and rolled her eyes without her mother seeing.

"Do not take that tone with me. I am your mother and you're coming to talk to him with me right now.”

"See you around, Ashley," Regina said, emphasis on Ashley again. She waved her hand as her mother guided her into another room through the crowd.

Emma could only wave awkwardly back at Regina. She sighed. She felt like she knew more now but at the same time nothing new at all. Regina had a rich mother who seemed as annoying as Emma’s foster mother, she went to these parties often, and she made a lot of jokes about looking for girls to go out with.

She was pulled back from her thoughts when her phone beeped. She had gotten a message from Marian.

CODE RED. Where are u? Your foster mom is leaving early to go home!!

Emma's pulse picked up at that. Mrs Tremaine could not know that she had been at the party. She didn't know what her punishment would be, but she was certain it would be severe. She ran as fast as she could in her heels and limited peripheral vision to the entrance and then to the car where Marian and Mulan (in her suit and tie with her hair in a short ponytail) were waiting for her. Emma quickly got on the backseat and started taking off her dress as the car sped up.

"Okay, if we go fast and take a shortcut we should be there before them," Mulan said.

Mulan's short cut was a success: Emma was home before anyone else. She got out of the car in her tank top, jeans, and sneakers she had put on during the ride, and she ran to the front door as Mulan and Marian disappeared around the corner.

She slammed the door shut and went upstairs to put on her glasses and tie her hair up in a messy bun before descending the stairs and trying to appear like she hadn't just been running for her life.

When the door opened, she was in the kitchen, casually making a salad the way her foster mother liked it. She walked into the room soon after, her eyes studying Emma.

"Did you enjoy the party?" Emma asked.

"Yes, it was... extravagant. I came home early because Zelena said I should check up on the house for some reason," she continued. "I do not know why since you were here all this time, weren't you?"

"Yeah," Emma replied casually, although she could feel panic starting to rise inside her at Mrs Tremaine’s words. "Dressing or no dressing?"

"Vinegar, please. And pour me a glass of merlot, will you? Socializing with all those people gave me a headache."

"Really?"

"It's exhausting. Cora Mills trying to set up her daughter with each eligible bachelor in the hopes of reliving their financial life... She looks so desperate..." she  muttered as she walked out of the kitchen.

Emma poured the wine and wondered if Zelena had seen her at the ball. Why else would she have told her mom to come home early? But why hadn't she told her the whole truth and just shown Emma to her mother there and then?

She sighed. Whatever it was, Emma hoped that Zelena wouldn't try to sabotage her life any further. She had enough to deal with as it was.

"So, how was your mystery girl last night?" Marian asked Emma the next day when she came to work.

"My what?" Emma said.

"Mulan told me that someone was feeding you chocolate-covered strawberries," Marian said and winked at her.

"A strawberry. One strawberry," she corrected Marian.

"Same difference," Marian said. "I was so sad I missed that but I had to keep watch... good that I did since we wouldn't have made it to your place before Tremaine."

"Did someone say chocolate-covered strawberries?" their fourth colleague asked. Ruby was working today instead of Mulan, and Marian seemed to have filled her in on the details about the previous night before Emma’s shift had started. "I say marry that girl."

"Marry her? I don't even have her number," she said.

"I was using a hyperbole," Ruby said. "I learned that’s what it’s called in English class."

"Okay, but in all seriousness," Marian said and lowered her voice. "Would you wanna go out with this girl, though?"

Emma stayed quiet for a while, her gaze fixated on the bagels in front of her. She thought about Regina's mouth and eyes and the way her fingers had felt when they had slightly brushed against Emma's lips.

"Yeah," she almost whispered.

"Alright, then we need to get you a date," Ruby said.

"Honestly, there's no point. It's not gonna happen," Emma said. Regina was one of the upper  class and beautiful and apparently of interest to young men who went to Yale, and Emma was... Emma.

"Nah, it's gonna happen," Marian insisted.

"How about you, though?" Emma asked Marian, changing the topic.

"How about me what?" Marian asked, feigning ignorance as she put her apron on.

"How was your night with Mulan after you dropped me off?"

Now it was Marian's turn to blush. Ruby, on the other hand, looked as intrigued as ever.

"I can't believe I missed all of this,” Ruby said, shaking her head. “Next time you're going to one of these parties, I'm coming with you."

"I'm not going again, but you can," Emma pointed out before turning to Marian. "Well?"

"It was pretty good. We actually never ended up going back to the party after taking you home. We went to my house to watch a movie."

"What movie?" Ruby asked, her brow arched.

“Wonder Woman,” Marian answered.

“Nice,” Emma said.

"And after the movie? What happened?" Ruby continued.

"Nothing. I drove her back home and that was that,” Marian said and shrugged. There was an awkward silence during which both Emma and Ruby looked at Marian until she finished telling what really happened. “She texted me after that, though. Told me she'd had a good time.”

“Well, there you go,” Ruby exclaimed. “That’s good.”

“Yeah, she’s into you but she just won’t make the first move,” Emma added. She wasn’t usually the one to give people advice on their romantic lives, partly because she hadn’t really had friends with whom to talk about such things before, but she felt like Mulan and Marian needed a little push or nothing would ever happen. “I’m positive. The other day, she said she didn’t know if you were interested in her, but she obviously likes you.”

“Really?” Marian asked, her brow raised.

“Promise,” Emma said.

“And I promise you that you’ll lose nothing if you ask that girl out. She obviously wants to go,” Marian said.

Maybe, Emma thought, a small flicker of hope awakening inside her.

When Emma got off from work six hours later, it was dark already. It was a chilly night, and she shook her head at herself for having left her leather jacket at the party. The De Alvas had probably thrown it away and she would have to spend money on a new one sometime in the not-so-distant future.

Emma suddenly forgot her jacket when she passed by the most expensive restaurant in town, Triton’s. The people by the window were eating lobster. Emma had never had it and she wondered if it was actually worth the money. (It probably wasn’t.)

She was just about to continue her walk home when she saw her. Regina was sitting at one of the tables in the middle of the restaurant wearing a white summer dress and her curly hair was up in a high ponytail. She was facing two older people who, Emma was pretty sure, were her parents, but it was the fourth person of the party that shook Emma. It was a guy a bit older than them, a rich-looking blonde guy who seemed awfully snobby even though Emma only got a glimpse of him. He placed a kiss on Regina’s cheek before sitting down next to her and lacing their fingers together on top of the table.

Emma started walking away fast. She didn’t want Regina to see her. She was wearing her work clothes and she looked like a mess, and why, why had she ever thought that she had a chance with Regina? Maybe the girl’s comments had just been a prank after she’d realized how Emma had looked at her. Poking some fun at that and then going out with the Yale guy her mom wanted her to be with. Someone pretending to be nice to her just for laughs wasn’t unfamiliar to Emma; it had happened to her more than once as a child, and she’d thought she’d already had her fair share of that, but no.

It felt really terrible, ridiculously terrible considering she had only just met Regina, but that didn’t keep her chest from aching and tears from forming in her eyes. She was crying before she had finished walking to the end of the block.

It all came crashing down to her so suddenly and she couldn’t stop herself from asking questions that made her feel even worse. Why did she feel this way about Regina? About women? Why had her friends thought she could ever have a chance with her when she was most likely most happy with that rich guy who could give her all the things Emma couldn’t?

Her thoughts kept racing the whole way back home and she didn’t bother brushing away her tears. It was late and she’d most likely run into no one on her way to her attic room. She’d go straight to bed and cry herself to sleep before she needed to get up to make breakfast and vacuum the rooms.

She realized she’d been wrong when she ran into Zelena who was descending the stairs in her silky lime green pajamas. It was too late to try to look neutral; her eyes must’ve been puffy and her face was undoubtedly red when she made it to the bottom of the staircase.

“Have you been crying?” Zelena asked her when she reached the last step of the stairs. She might as well have been asking if water was wet.

Emma barely rolled her eyes at her. “Can you move so I can go upstairs?”

“Sorry,” Zelena said as she stepped on the carpet. For the first time in her life, Emma thought Zelena actually did sound sorry, although she didn’t want to stay downstairs to analyze the situation further. All she wanted was to be alone in her room, cry herself to sleep, and stay in bed until she needed to cook breakfast for everyone.

“Thanks,” she muttered as she walked past Zelena and took a few steps towards peace and quiet.

“I saw you,” Zelena said behind her. “At the ball yesterday.”

Emma’s blood ran cold. Zelena had been the one to tell her foster mom to come home early... Of course it was because she’d seen her. She slowly turned around and tried to look neutral even though she knew it was a lost battle.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said straight to Zelena’s face. “I was here all night.”

“You weren’t,” Zelena said. “You were the girl in the red dress. And you were with Marian from your work.”

“What’s your angle here, Zelena?” she asked as she walked back down the stairs. She had had it for the day. “Are you gonna make my life more miserable than it already is?” She paused. “Tell your mother I was there so she’ll treat me worse and kick me out on the street? Blackmail me?”

“No, I…” Zelena said, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her green camisole. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

That took Emma by surprise. “You’re sorry? For what?”

“Being an arse to you, I suppose,” the girl responded. “I’ve... been where you are, and I remembered it yesterday.”

Was Zelena playing her? It had been too long a day for her to be playing her. She couldn’t take this after realizing that Regina had probably been making fun of her too.

“Really?” she asked, suspicious.

“Yes, I…” Zelena started and there were suddenly tears in her eyes. Maybe she wasn’t faking her apology after all.

“Are you okay?” Emma asked as she took a few steps towards Zelena. She hadn’t seen her like this before.

“Do I look okay?” Zelena snapped before taking a deep breath and lowering her voice. “I think I saw the woman who abandoned me at the party last night.”

Zelena was fully crying now, her pale face turning red as she brushed away tears. “It’s that rich lady Mum hates. Cora Mills. She looks just like me and I didn’t realize that until she was wearing a mask and then she took it off.”

Emma didn’t know what to do. She and Zelena had never been close, never even been friendly, but they were both abandoned as children, so that gave them some common ground.

Should she have hugged her?

Maybe not?

She did the next best thing she could think of and brought her hand to Zelena’s arm for a little while. Zelena looked at it, confused, but didn’t push her away.

“It’s that…” Zelena started in a strained voice. “She’s rich. Not like Mum but… still. She’s doing great. She could’ve easily looked after me. She has another kid only a year or two younger than I am. I just wasn’t what she wanted.” She sniffed.

“I’m sorry, Zelena,” Emma said as she patted her arm for one last time. “I really am.”

“Thanks,” Zelena said, not looking at her as she turned around and walked away towards the kitchen. Emma turned to the opposite direction and started walking up the stairs again until she heard Zelena’s voice behind her. “Did you like the chocolate fountain?”

Emma turned around to look at Zelena. Her foster sister was standing by the kitchen door, her face expectant.

“Yeah, I loved it,” Emma admitted truthfully, although the fountain only made her think of Regina again.

“I know a person who has a fountain like that. Would you like to go there sometime?” Zelena asked, her voice uncertain. “They usually have it at parties. You could borrow one of my dresses.”

“Yeah,” Emma replied, surprised by the sudden act of kindness. “Just let me know when,” she said before walking upstairs, slightly less upset than when she had entered the house.

Emma wouldn’t really admit it, but she avoided running into Regina after that: she decided to go to a different store for her foster mother’s groceries, and she didn’t look inside Triton’s, or any other expensive restaurants for that matter. Everything went well for a couple of weeks (during which Marian and Mulan got together and Zelena gave her three of her old jackets and took her to see a chocolate fountain). She started to accept that maybe it wasn’t meant to be, but then it all changed when Mrs Tremaine wanted that ridiculous handmade corn pasta and she had to go to the same store she had first met Regina in.

It’s gonna be fine, Emma thought. The store reminded her of the first time they’d met, but that was it. Regina wouldn’t be there. She’d get the pasta and get out and wouldn’t stay there any longer than necessary.

She made her way to aisle six repeating that there would be no reason for Regina or anyone else she knew to be there right then (although Emma had to admit that this time she looked slightly better than the last time since she had bothered to shower after cleaning the house. Just in case).

Yet, when she got to the aisle, there she was. No annoying rich guy glued to her side like last time, which was nice, but Emma could still feel a punch in her gut.

Regina, on the other hand, didn’t seem one bit upset when she saw her, her face breaking into a bright smile when she turned into Emma’s direction. Her curly hair was loose again and it framed her beautiful beaming face. “Emma, hey. It’s been a while.”

“Hi,” she replied as she tried to put on a casual expression. “Looking for stuff for your mom again?”

“Yes,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “"Why she still wants to buy this expensive stuff and pretend we'll be able to afford it in the future is beyond me."

“Really?” Emma said. Her foster mom’s words about Cora Mills trying to marry off her daughter to the richest possible suitor came to her mind.

Regina hummed in response as she threw a bag of pasta in her shopping cart. “Anyway, how have you been? Where did you leave your red jacket?”

“Oh,” she said. She was wearing a brown jacket Zelena had given her since it had been too cold to leave the house wearing only a T-shirt. “I forgot it.”

“Home?” Regina asked, her eyebrow raised.

Emma paused at that. That was an odd question to ask. Did Regina know something? She had been at the party, but she hadn’t seen Emma wearing the jacket there, so how would she know?

“No,” she replied carefully. “At the house of people I don’t know, so it’d be weird to go and get it back. They probably don’t have it anymore, anyway.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s just a cheap jacket from Forever 21, and they’re really r—” she stopped her sentence when she realized what she was saying.

Regina didn’t look upset, though. She was eyeing the pasta section with a wide smile on her lips. “I’m sure it’s not gone. I actually took a leather jacket from my cousin’s party a few weeks ago, and I’ve been looking for the owner since.” She held a small pause as she picked another kind of pasta and threw it into the cart. “You didn’t happen to go to a party that week, did you?”

“I didn’t,” she said, although her rising intonation at the end of the sentence made it sound like a question.

“Too bad,” Regina continued casually as she handed Emma the right kind of pasta. She started walking down the aisle while she continued talking, so Emma was forced to follow. “I met someone nice there that night.”

Emma’s mind went straight to the Yale Guy. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Regina replied, not looking at Emma as she kept walking. “I thought that maybe the leather jacket belonged to her. I feel like it would’ve been her style.”

What?

“What about your...” Emma started, but didn’t know how to finish.

Regina stopped walking and turned her face to Emma, her expression puzzled. “My what?”

“Your… Yale Guy,” she said when she couldn’t think of the name Regina’s mother had said at the party.

“My Yale Guy?” Regina asked.

“The one your mom introduced you to?” she elaborated.

“Oh,” Regina said, looking surprised. “I thought that my facial expressions weren’t that difficult to interpret. I’m not interested in him or any of the men my mother tries to set me up with.” She kept on walking towards the register in the front of the store. “I went to Triton’s with him a few times so he could get his parents off his back because he’s gay and wouldn’t pay for his tuition if they knew… Hold on.”

Emma had some time to think while Regina paid for her (numerous) groceries. She couldn’t believe that Regina knew that it had been her behind the mask but she had never said anything. Ridiculous.

“Thank you,” Regina said to the cashier as she took the receipt and started juggling her grocery bags.

“Wait, let me help you,” Emma said and took some of the bags as they walked outside.

“So, anyway. The… Yale Guy,” Regina continued in front of the store. “I thought I’d just do him a favor since him going out with me would get my mom off my back too. We actually went out with my parents there, which was… Interesting,” Regina said and shook her head.

“So you got your mom off your back?” Emma asked.

“Yeah, all of our parents. It’s not an ideal situation, but… I suppose it could be worse.”

Emma nodded. She knew that feeling all too well.

“Still hoping to go out with this girl who left behind a Forever 21 leather jacket, though,” Regina added, a smile on her lips. “Too bad she wasn’t looking for any eligible bachelorettes.”

Emma needed to consciously keep her mouth from falling open. Was Regina serious? One part of her still felt like Regina was joking (because why on earth would she wanna go out with Emma?). The story the girl had just told her sounded too dramatic to be true.

Nevertheless, Regina was still smiling, and after a short moment of consideration, Emma could somehow tell that she wasn’t lying.

“She’s looking…” Emma started, feeling terribly awkward talking about herself in third person. She wondered if she could ever have a full conversation with Regina without seeming like an idiot. “And she has time to go out on Friday after work.”

Regina’s smile got even wider, and Emma had to remind herself how to breathe and act as calm as possible even though she was screaming internally.

“Well, tell her I’m available,” Regina responded, a smirk in her eyes. “Where do you work? I could come pick you up.”

“Uhm,” Emma said, once again realizing that her job wasn’t anywhere near as impressive as the Yale Guy’s supposed job. “You know that bakery on fifth street? Granny’s?”

“Great. We can get coffee to go,” Regina said. “You know, that’s funny. Someone I know works there.”

“Really? Who?” Emma asked.

“Marian?” Regina suggested.

“Seriously?” Emma barked. Marian had known Regina all this time. Maybe if Emma hadn’t kept Regina’s name a secret, Marian could’ve given her better advice. Although… she did make sure Emma got into the party. She contacted her friend, Mateo’s cousin… Leave now or I'll talk to my cousin. “Wait, you’re Mateo’s cousin?”

“Yeah,” Regina said as they started walking to Regina’s car. “You should maybe tell your foster sisters to give up on him if they’re still interested. He met this girl, Elena, at the party, and if he’s interested in anyone, it’s her. I don’t know if you know her. Elena Castillo Flores?”

Emma let out a laugh. “I don’t think they’re that interested,” she said and smiled until she remembered that Zelena was certain she was biologically related to Cora Mills. What a fucked up family tree.

“So, Friday?” Regina asked as she stopped and opened the trunk of her Mercedes.

“Friday,” Emma responded before putting the groceries in the trunk.

“By the way... You forgot your pasta,” Regina pointed out.

“Oh,” Emma said. She had been too distracted by their conversation and helping Regina carry her groceries that she had left her pasta… somewhere in the store. “I should probably go. I have a shift in 40 minutes.”

“Alright,” Regina said. “I’ll see you on Friday, Emma.”

“See you,” Emma said and ran back to the store before she could say or do something embarrassing again.

“Mateo de Alva is here!” Mrs Tremaine’s loud voice sounded from downstairs.

Emma had just finished taking off her work top and was about to take a shower, but she started to have second thoughts after hearing Mrs Tremaine’s words. She was too curious to see what Mateo was doing here — especially if it had something to do with Regina.

She pulled her top back on and took one last look at her reflection in the mirror before walking into Zelena’s room. She found her foster sister reading a book and scrunching her brow on her queen size bed. She was wearing a green camisole and black jeans and her curly hair was pinned to the top of her head.

“Did you hear your mom?” Emma asked.

“I did, but I reckon it’s someone else,” Zelena shrugged. “Why on earth would he be here?”

Emma walked to the window and saw him. Mateo — Emma supposed he was Mateo although she’d never actually talked to him — was getting out of a black Lexus. He ran a his hand through his hair and turned to say something to the person in the passenger seat.

“No, I think it’s him,” Emma said.

“Really?” sounded Cruella’s voice from behind her. Emma turned around to face her foster sister, who was all dressed up, and had come to stand next to her by the window. “That is him.”

“Really?” Zelena said as she came to the window as well. She continued looking outside for a while in silence before adding, “I don’t know why he’d be here. That doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“Well, I’m going if you’re not,” Cruella said. She shrugged and left the room, leaving Emma and Zelena alone by the window.

“I don’t think he’s here by hims—” Zelena started when the passenger door opened and someone else stepped out. “Well, there you go.”

Emma’s eyes widened when she saw Regina getting out of the car. She had changed out of the clothes she had been wearing on her shopping trip and she was in dressed in dark skintight jeans and an expensive-looking blouse.

“I wonder what she’s doing here?” Emma said.

“She probably thinks your date is a day early,” Zelena teased her.

Emma had ended up telling Zelena that she was going out on Friday; she’d spilled her secret when she’d started worrying she wouldn’t have anything nice to wear. Zelena soon found out who Emma would be going out with (which was something Emma couldn’t quite believe yet herself). Zelena had also sworn Emma not to tell Regina about Cora being her biological mom, and Emma had to respect that wish. It just really wasn’t her business.

“Really, Emma,” Zelena said as Regina started walking towards their front door. “I’m sure she’s here for you, so maybe you ought to go downstairs.”

“You sure you don’t wanna talk to her?” she asked Zelena. She had gathered that Zelena bore some sort of resentment towards Regina since Cora had decided to keep her but not Zelena, but she had also seemed like she might want to talk to Regina.

“I’m still thinking about it,” Zelena said as she walked away from the window and into her closet. A couple of seconds later, she came out with a plaid shirt. “Wear this.” She pointed at Emma’s neon pink work top. “It suits you better than that.”

Emma arched her brow but pulled on the shirt before going downstairs. When she made it to the front door, she was faced with Regina holding her red leather jacket. Cruella was there too, holding the door open, and she looked like she was about to leave.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Regina responded, smiling uncertainly. “I forgot to give you your jacket.”

“Oh,” she said, unsure how to respond. She walked closer to the door as Cruella walked away to grab something from the closet next to them. “You didn’t have to.”

Regina’s smile faltered for a second before it was back on and she handed Emma the jacket. “We were driving by, so I thought I might as well.”

“Thanks.”

“Regina Mills,” came Mrs Tremaine’s voice from behind Emma. “I was almost expecting your cousin. The car looked very much like his.”

“Mrs Tremaine,” Regina said. She was smiling a wide smile that didn’t reach her eyes. It looked like a politician’s smile, so unlike the smile that Regina had reserved for Emma. “I was simply hitching a ride from him.”

“Well, you mustn’t keep him waiting, then” Mrs Tremaine replied with her polite yet cold voice. “Emma, Lucifer made a mess again, so I need you in the living room.”

Not now. Emma wanted to cry. Couldn’t she hold one conversation with Regina where she didn’t feel utterly embarrassed at one point?

“Do I have to do that now?” she asked.

Mrs Tremaine’s face fell. Her polite expression flashed from shocked to hostile, and when she replied to Emma, it was in a cold tone that implied that this conversation wouldn’t be over any time soon.

“Yes, you must.”

“Sorry, Mum, but Emma and I have got to go,” Zelena’s voice came from the stairs as she ran to the ground floor of the house. “We have plans, and she’s not your maid.”

“ You have plans?” Mrs Tremaine asked Zelena, her voice an octave higher.

“Yes, we’re going to be away for the rest of the night since Emma wasn’t supposed to do anything else today,” Zelena said innocently. “In fact, maybe you should invest in a maid again, Mum. For poor Lucifer’s sake.”

Mrs Tremaine looked like she was boiling under the surface, but she couldn’t say anything with Regina there. She put on the most forced smile Emma had ever seen on her face and nodded. “Clearly.”

There was a small pause during which no one said anything. Regina still stood by the door facing Emma and Zelena, and Cruella was now rummaging through the closet next to them, having not found what she was looking for upstairs.

“Cruella,” Mrs Tremaine said with a raised voice. “Why don’t you help me with Lucifer?”

Cruella came out of the closet with an utterly confused expression on her face. Her angry eyes went from her mother to Emma and then back to her mother again. “But James is waiting for me, Mum.”

“It’s good to keep him waiting,” Mrs Tremaine said like it was the end of the discussion. “Living room, now.”

“Out, out, out,” Zelena said as she walked past Emma and Regina and practically ran out of the house. Cruella was left inside, confused.

“What the hell just happened?” Emma said, finally regaining her speaking abilities. She was standing outside with Regina and Zelena, her leather jacket finally on her arm.

“I did you a small favor,” Zelena said. “It’s not like I’ll be here for that much longer anyway since I’ll be going to college, so I might as well try to make your final year of high school a bit more tolerable.”

Emma looked at Zelena with her eyes wide. She still had a hard time believing that the girl was really on her side now. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Zelena said and shot Emma a smile before yelling, “shotgun!” and running to Mateo’s car.

“So, I…” Regina started, gesturing towards the car. “Would you like to go somewhere?”

Emma glanced at the house they’d just left, certain that she would not want to be home until Zelena deemed Mrs Tremaine calm enough again. “Yeah, sure.” She stopped for a moment and simply smiled at Regina, not knowing what to say.

“Do you like Hardee’s?” Regina asked her, her face very serious.

“You wanna go to Hardee’s?” Emma asked. She tried to sound casual but she probably came off as incredulous. The last time she’d seen Regina eat anything was at that fancy seafood place.

“Yes, I mean, I haven’t had it in a while,” Regina said and shrugged. “Unless you would like to go somewhere else…”

“No, Hardee’s is good,” Emma said. “Just making sure.”

Emma followed Regina to the car where Zelena and Mateo were already sitting. Even though she’d seen a fair amount of fancy cars during the month she’d spent at the Tremaines’, she had never been in a Lexus before. She could smell the leather seats of the relatively new car, and there was quiet music playing from speakers she couldn’t see.

“Hi, Emma,” Mateo said. “Zelena filled me in, and we’re gonna take a quick drive to… Where are we going?”

“To Hardee’s,” Regina said as she fastened her seat belt.

“Hardee’s it is,” Mateo said, his dark eyes meeting hers in the rearview mirror. “Nice to meet you, Emma.”

“You too,” Emma said. She had heard so much about Mateo that she wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but he seemed more welcoming than the unattainable rich bachelor the Tremaine household had made him up to be.

“So, you’re Emma’s foster sister?” Regina asked from the backseat of the car when Mateo’s foot hit the gas pedal.

Emma couldn’t see Zelena’s face, but she could practically feel her freeze for a moment. Emma wanted to help her somehow, but she knew it wasn’t her place.

“Yeah,” Zelena said after taking some time first. “I suppose that’s me.”

“I think I remember you from school, actually,” Regina said, which seemed to take Zelena by surprise.

“Really?” Zelena said, turning her head so that she was facing the backseat.

“Yes, you graduated this year, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Zelena said, a tiny uncertain smile forming on her lips before she turned back to face the road.

Hardee’s wasn’t very full. It was a regular Thursday night and there were people here and there, but the four of them had no trouble finding places to sit. Zelena still insisted Emma and Regina get their own table and she and Mateo got their own because she had taken a sudden interest in Mateo’s studies at Harvard. Mateo shook his head every now and then at Zelena’s words, but he seemed amused enough.

“You know he’s into Elena, right?” Emma said when she got a moment alone with Zelena.

“I know,” Zelena said. “I’m merely playing a wingwoman here.” Pause. “And I do find his studies interesting.”

Emma scoffed. “Fine.”

“I can just… stop if my help isn’t welcome,” Zelena said. “But I ought to let you know that it’d be rather boring if you didn’t kiss her tonight.”

“I was literally gonna go out with her anyway,” she hissed. “And this double date that’s not even a date is a little— hi!”

Emma realized that Regina had appeared next to her when the girl’s fingers brushed hers. She really hoped her cheeks weren’t about to turn red because this time she wasn’t hidden by a mask and Hardee’s lighting wasn’t exactly doing anyone any favors.

“Hey,” Regina responded, amused. “Should we order something?”

“Sure.”

When Regina had said she had wanted to eat at Hardee’s, she had really meant it. She ended up ordering a burger, onion rings, and a large coke; Emma got herself a cheeseburger and fries but decided to save her money on the beverage and got a cup for water.

“I swear my mother is trying to convince me that we shouldn’t eat anything other than salad and corn pasta anymore,” Regina said as they sat down. “I’ve missed this.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, it’s very tiring,” Regina responded. “Can I try your fries? You can try my onion rings.”

Regina ended up eating at least a third of Emma’s fries, but Emma didn’t mind at all. The girl looked so pleased with the food and smiled so beautifully that Emma forgot to eat at one point (which really didn’t happen often). They spent a good while talking about their lives and future plans, and Emma enjoyed every second of it.

Eventually, they had to go, so they headed back to the car — until Zelena came up with her next brilliant plan.

“Oh, shoot. I don’t have any smokes left.”

“Zelena, you don’t even smoke,” Emma pointed out.  She had never seen Zelena smoke and she had never smelled cigarettes on the girl; that was all Cruella.

“I do,” Zelena said. “We’ll be right back.” She grabbed a very confused Mateo’s arm and dragged the both of them into the 7-Eleven next to Hardee’s.

“Did you tell her Mateo isn’t available?” Regina said, her brow scrunched.

“I did, ” she replied truthfully. She felt incredibly awkward. She hoped that she’s be able to talk to Regina without stumbling over her words at one point. So far, she hadn’t had one conversation with Regina without feeling awkward for one reason or another.  “I suppose she’s just… trying to give us some time alone.”

A smirk made its way to Regina’s lips. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Emma groaned. “Oh, my god, this is so awkward…”

“I could try to take your mind off of that if you want,” Regina suggested.

Emma finally looked at the girl’s eyes. “How?”

Regina hesitated for a moment before she slowly moved closer to Emma, and before Emma could fully realize what was happening, Regina’s lips were on hers. It felt really really good, Regina kissing her, and soon Emma responded to the kiss, her hands moving to Regina’s hips as one of Regina’s hands rested on her neck. Emma thought she must’ve tasted like the onion rings she’d just had, but then again, so did Regina.

“So, Friday?” Regina asked, smiling as she broke the kiss.