Chapter Text
It was strange, Emma Swan thought, as she sunk further into the leather passenger seat of a black Mercedes, that sometimes her life seemed to progress really well. In those periods of time, all the cards of the deck of life were suddenly in her favor. She would keep pulling ace after ace, kings, and queens, and nothing could stop her from winning the game. It was a great feeling.
Too bad that those moments never really lasted very long.
She glared at the woman behind the steering wheel, observed the brunette and her clenched jaw for a few seconds before she sighed deeply. Turning her head to face away, she settled with staring out of the window. The festive Christmas decorations outside only darkened her mood further as she tried to comprehend what had gone wrong in the past two days.
48 hours ago, she was a waitress at Granny’s, the diner-slash-bar she’d been working at for the last couple of years. She had a boyfriend, a great apartment (which he partially paid for but that’s also because he lived there when he was in town), and for a while, things had been going really well. She was… happy. For the first time in her miserable, wretched excuse of a life she had been happy.
Until that asshole boyfriend had lied to her and an FBI agent had told her she had to testify against him, just a few days before Christmas.
A soft sigh escaped her lips. She saw how her breath condensed against the car window, while her mind was still trying to make sense of everything.
As always, she had been waiting tables at Granny’s. Granny and her granddaughter Ruby had gone all out for Christmas like they did every year. The place was heavily decorated - the bar was lined with garlands decorated with Christmas ornaments, fake snow had been sprayed on the windows, a fake Christmas tree placed in the back, and Granny, her employer, had even sacrificed one of the booths to create a tacky Christmas village with moving figures. Of course, the jukebox only featured the lamest Christmas songs these weeks. It was all really over the top but festive at the same time, and Emma often found herself humming along with the Christmas songs. Both her and Ruby, who tended the bar today, wore Santa dresses - a little too short to Emma’s liking but completely Ruby’s style, she had told her before - and to top it all off, she’d gotten two red and one green-colored hair extension tied in her messy blonde curls. It had been Ruby’s idea and Emma didn’t really mind.
Waiting tables wasn’t the best job out there, but it was the best one she’d ever had and around Christmas, when people were happier and thus tips were bigger, she loved her job even more. She didn’t mind working a couple of extra shifts. Sure, there were people who came to Granny’s already heavily drunk from their Christmas party at work, but Emma was quite adept at either telling them off or throwing them out. It’s what a life in the foster system and on the streets did to you - it made you street smart and quite a fighter. Literally and figuratively.
Her boyfriend, Killian, had been at Granny’s as well. He too had been celebrating the almost-start of the holidays with his mates. She didn’t care much for his friends-slash-employees, they were rude assholes and she had to tell them off most of the time. It was no wonder that most of them couldn’t hold a girlfriend for more than a couple of days, she often told both herself and Ruby. And them, if they pissed her off enough. But it was nice to have Killian there, and she’d served them with an extra spring in her step.
Killian was the best boyfriend she’d ever had. Not that she’d had many, because her stand-offish attitude usually chased everyone away. And she’d tried to get him to run, as well. When they’d met, she had been distrustful, wary of his intentions. His cocky behavior was something she’d severely disliked - people like that always ended up betraying you. But he had been persistent in wooing her, in winning her over. He had bought her gifts. Flowers. Clothes. Took her out on dates. She’d never met someone who was so adamant about being with her. And slowly but gradually, she’d come to appreciate his confident, lively demeanor. And when she had to leave her one-room apartment because the building was going to be torn down, he had offered to co-sign the lease for her very first apartment. It wasn’t something she’d wanted to agree with immediately because it meant giving up her freedom - or at least it felt that way - but they had been dating for a while already, he’d said, and he traveled a lot for work so he wouldn’t be around all the time if she needed space, and he said he’d love to have a base here in the city, plant some roots, as well. Finally, she’d given in. He had a way of making her give in, but she had to admit, it was really nice to be taken care of for once, instead of having to fend for herself all the time.
And this year it would become even better. Killian had invited her to celebrate Christmas with his family. The family owned a shipping company together and he’d told her they rarely saw each other. Either Killian was out at sea or Liam was, he said, if he wasn’t busy with one of the other companies he was trying to start up. But at Christmas, they’d be together. And she’d never been happier when he had invited her to their family Christmas dinner. She’d even let that asshole pull her onto his lap for a public kiss, which had earned her a disapproving look from Granny in the process. She snorted. Her employer had always told her she was too good for Hook - a nickname the older woman had long ago given him because he resembled a pirate so much.
And then, when she was bringing Killian and his loser friends the next round, she had asked him what she should bring to the Christmas dinner next week.
He had scoffed and had rolled his eyes to his mates, who had snickered under their breaths before he had smirked up at her. “Look, love, I’m sorry, but it’s not going to happen.”
Emma had blinked in confusion, shook her head because she didn’t understand. “But you invited me,” she replied in disbelief, face pulled in a frown. She hated when he got this way. Sometimes it was like he was two different people - one caring when he was with her, an idiot when his friends were around.
“Maybe next year,” he said, smirking around the table, trying to get his mates to laugh. But they didn’t - she vaguely noticed the others were silent now as they awaited her response.
“But you said…” Her voice died when she heard one of his friends snort and after she gave him a dark stare to shut him up before she turned back to Killian. “So, I’m good enough to take to your bedroom but I’m not good enough to take home to your family?” she snapped.
Now, two others couldn’t suppress their chuckles and she stared them down over the table. But Killian was not impressed. “I’ll send a car for you after work to pick you up, all right love? Now, be a good girl and get me another rum.”
He had lied to her. She still couldn’t understand how he could’ve been so cruel. It had never been his intention to introduce her to his family. She gritted her teeth. For an orphan girl like her, Christmas had never really meant much. She’d bounced from group home to foster parents and back. If she was lucky, there was a gift for her under a Christmas tree. But more often than not, Christmas had been a deception. She’d lost faith in Santa and the magic of Christmas long before other kids had.
But this year, she’d had something to look forward to. A real Christmas with a real family where she could be a part of. Her eyes had wandered back to Killian who was showing off to his friends, smiling smugly as if he’d won a small victory. Asshole. Frustration and anger boiled up inside her and she grabbed the nearest drink. “You can finish this one, you asshole,” she snapped and threw the drink in his face. He jumped up in shock while the rum dripped off him in small rivulets and gasped as she whirled around and stormed off to the bar. So much for her good cards in life. The house she’d built with it had just collapsed.
Tears had stung behind her eyes as she had heard the sounds of laughter coming from Killian’s table. She heaved in fresh oxygen while curling her fingers around the counter and squeezed, trying to get her emotions under control by focusing on the pain she felt in her hands.
And then, she’d seen her .
A car honked behind them, and Emma blinked a few times, pulled from her thoughts when she heard the brunette next to her mutter a few curses under her breath. She tilted her head to observe the woman in whose car she was sitting. She seemed to be as unhappy with this arrangement as she was.
She looked exactly like when they first met, when she’d sat at the end of the bar staring at her. But exactly exactly, down to the very expensive-looking suit. The brunette was approximately her size - a little smaller - her dark brown hair, neatly coiffed, which framed her face, brushing her shoulders. Straight nose, plump dark lips, and dark brown eyes matching the color of her hair - she hadn’t seen that when the woman was in the bar, but she had seen it later. She’d looked way too good for Granny’s and completely out of place at the diner.
Emma turned back to the window. It had started to grow dark, she saw. Reminiscing the past two days had made her caught up in her own head. She hadn’t even seen the change of scenery - they’d left the city behind them. Trees and fields and mostly empty asphalt stretched out in front of them. She could care less, and sunk back into her thoughts.
After Killian’s betrayal, Ruby had told her to go home, and Emma had gladly accepted that offer. She’d only wanted to wallow in her self-pity, crawl under her blankets and cry her eyes out.
She had left the bar soon after and walked home, making plans to barricade the apartment door so Killian could stay at one of his loser friends’ places. Oh, maybe he’d try to get a room at Granny’s. Too bad she wasn’t there to see him try - Granny hadn’t looked too happy when she left.
She didn’t live very far from the bar so she usually walked, but it was colder than she had anticipated. Shivering, she pulled her red pleather jacket closer to her body while the wind tousled her blonde curls. She’d gotten rid of her stockings because it was too hot inside, but she’d forgotten to bring them. But she wasn’t going back for them. She had some pride left.
A soft sound behind her made her jump and she realized it was late, long after sunset, and dark. Her heart rate picked up a little as she quickened her pace. “Excuse me,” a low, rich voice called out to her and she sped up a little more.
“Excuse me,” she heard again, more urgent this time. Whirling around, she dropped her bag and lifted her fists in an attack position.
“Back off,” she snapped at the woman behind her, “Or I’ll kick your sorry ass.”
The brunette raised her hands as well as her eyebrows, showing her an ID. “Agent Mills, FBI,” she introduced herself. And once she’d overcome her shock, Emma eyed her warily. The woman from the bar. “I just want to talk to you,” Agent Mills continued.
“About what?” Hostility dripped from her tone. Her run-ins with the police - more than she’d liked - had left her with a guarded attitude towards law enforcement. But Agent Mills didn’t seem very impressed - she was probably used to it.
“About Killian Jones.”
“What about him?”
“We believe he’s swindled a lot of people.”
“Yeah, including me ,” Emma replied, turning around, done with the conversation. She started to walk away.
“Old people. Families. All their money is gone, they have nothing left.” She heard the heels of the woman click behind her. “Whole communities destitute,” the agent continued. “Families ripped apart.”
Families. Emma stopped walking. Turned around to face the brunette, who had stopped at a safe distance from her.
“What do you want from me?” Emma snapped.
“I need your help,” the woman said. It wasn’t a plea. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Agent Mills held her gaze and Emma found herself unable to look away, albeit with a guarded frown on her face, jacket still firmly pulled together. She sized up the woman in front of her. Tried to decide whether to talk to her or not.
But Killian’s betrayal was stronger than his need to defend him right now. She was hurt. And she wanted to hurt him back.
“Emma Swan,” she finally said.
The woman smiled. “I am Regina Mills,” she said, extending her hand. Emma shook it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Regina added. It made Emma snort. Yeah, right. The woman in front of her raised an amused eyebrow before she gestured into the direction Emma had been walking into. She oozed natural leadership that made Emma comply immediately - something that irritated her at the same time.
“Let’s get you out of this cold first,” she answered, “And then we’ll talk.”
And they had talked, after Agent Mills had brought her to her office. For hours. Because, Emma had thought, it had been exhilarating to spill Killian’s dirty little secrets. She was hurt. He knew about her past, knew how hard it was for her to trust someone, how much she had been looking forward to having a real Christmas, and he had shattered all of it in a fucking bar, in front of all his sorry excuses of deranged friends.
And her information was good enough that both Killian and his brother were rounded up by the FBI the next day, for fraud all around the country. She wasn’t stupid. She’d overheard many conversations on the phone between him and his brother, him and his companions, about offshore accounts, different bank accounts. She knew he was into some shady business. At that moment, she could care less. Being able to rant about him had been exhilarating, but when her anger had subsided, she’d felt a little guilty and both Mills and her boss, Neal Cassidy, had picked up on that.
And because Jones was most certainly going to make bail and both Agent Mills and Neal Cassidy had been sure that he would come to seek her out - to either talk her out of testifying after Christmas or worse, Cassidy had told his agent to take Emma out of town for a couple of days. She was their key witness, a position she had tried to wiggle out of once she fully understood what they were asking of her, but Cassidy had easily said that they could also force her to. “You knew all this and didn’t step forward,” he had told her. “You accepted his gifts, spent his money. If you don’t comply, we can easily accuse you as an accessory of his crimes.” Another day, another asshole.
So here she was, Emma lamented. On her way to a hotel to spend Christmas in the middle of fucking nowhere with a woman who’d dragged her into this mess and who, from the looks of it, hated Christmas as much as she did because she, too, didn’t have any Christmas plans.
They passed a gas station, the bright and colorful Christmas decorations of the place taunting her.
Ho-fucking-ho.
She sighed deeply and pressed her lips firmly together, leaning her head against the window.
~*~
Regina Mills briefly looked aside when she heard a deep sigh, before turning her eyes back at the road. It actually surprised her that the blonde hadn’t said anything since they had left Emma’s apartment, where they had gone to pack a bag for the weekend. Emma had switched her tiny Santa-dress for ridiculously tight jeans with tears - she didn’t know if these were the fashionable ones or if the jeans were worn down completely, a tank top that showed much of her cleavage, and her horrifying red leather jacket - Regina was sure that it was fake. The girl had red and green colored extensions in her messy blond hair, which she’d put up in a loose ponytail.
And she silently cursed her boss that she had been forced to take Emma to a hotel out of town. Emma Swan was not her type of person to hang out with. By far. Because she had shadowed Jones for so long, she had also seen a lot of the Swan girl. She was too loud, too theatrical, too self-involved, too present, too… far off from her own standards. Maybe Regina was a little prejudiced, but she’d worked with people like Emma Swan before. She knew her kind.
Emma’s life story had been the same as many other informants she’d worked with. Regina had investigated her as a part of her ongoing investigation on Jones - she knew all about her history, even the sealed youth records. Emma never had anything, not even a compliment, until she met Killian Jones. Who ignored her completely, which she was used to. So it was comfortable. But sometimes he would give her attention and presents, which she confused with love. The girl was totally at his mercy. It was smart to get her out of town so Jones couldn’t convince her to change her mind - she just didn’t know why it had to be her who needed to take her.
Emma might be more street-smart than the average backward neighborhood waitress, but she was still just that, Cassidy had said when she had tried to talk him out of it. “And I need one of my best to keep her out of the spotlights and into the witness stand unharmed, without someone around that can un-convince her from testifying. And I don’t have to tell you that everything depends on her testimony.”
Her boss was right. And she had finally given in.
Rain started to fall on the windshield and Regina turned on the wipers. A muscle in her jaw tensed. Sure, one of his best. Probably because she was one of the very few who had volunteered to work during Christmas. She’d hoped to get the pile of paperwork done that had resulted from this case, but apparently, she was demoted to the position of a glorified babysitter.
She was also a little cranky because her father had called her, just before they had left to pick up Emma’s stuff. Her father had probably seen the news of Jones’ arrest, she had thought when she had picked up the phone.
“Hello, daddy,” she had answered softly, a smile lining her mouth.
“Guess who I saw on television,” he said, and she chuckled.
“Ah, you saw it?”
“Of course I did, sweetheart. And I am so proud.” Then, there’d been a small pause. “Tell me, dear, when will you come over for Christmas?”
There it was, the talk that Regina had been dreading. Regina sighed. “I’m not coming home for Christmas, daddy,” she softly said. “I already told you, remember? I have to work.”
“But you said last year that this year you would be here.” Disappointment lined his voice and Regina closed her eyes when she let the guilt wash over her.
“I really have to work.”
The silence on the other side was deafening and it was eating on her insides. “I’m sorry, daddy,” Regina said quietly, “I… I’ll call you soon, all right? I have to go.” She had ended the call soon after that, staring at her phone.
This time, it was Regina who let out a soft sigh, while her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. She loved her father so, so much. It was her mother with whom she had a problem. Her mother was the reason she wasn’t going home. She hated to disappoint him, but she was not going to subject herself to three days of hearing how bad her choices in life were, what a disgrace to the family she’d become. And her mother would surely try to pit her against her older sister, who had tried to live up to her mother’s standards by picking the career path Cora Mills had set out for Regina.
Her eyes flicked to Emma, for a short second, as she remembered Neal’s wink when he’d said: “Hey, at least you’ll get to go to a hotel with a pretty girl for the weekend.”
“Not my type,” Regina had countered, “not even close.” She shook her head.
This was going to be a long weekend.
“If I annoy you so much, you can as well take me back,” Emma suddenly said, a sharpness in her voice. “All you’ve been doing is looking disapprovingly. Killian won’t hurt me and I definitely don’t need a babysitter.”
“Unfortunately for you and me both, my boss thinks you do,” Regina answered tightly. “Jones will try to convince you-”
“You know, I’m tired of people talking about me as if I don’t exist. I know what he’ll try to do,” Emma snapped. “But I-”
“With all due respect, Miss Swan,” Regina interrupted her rant, “I’ve been tracking Killian Jones for almost three years. I know almost all there is to know about him - some of which I’d rather forget -”
“Shouldn’t you be going to your family for Christmas anyway?” Emma spat.
“I’m usually working,” Regina replied curtly.
Emma snorted. “So you'd rather spend your Christmas with scumbags and waitresses?” Emma eyes her with a frown, disbelief in her gaze.
“I suppose so, yes.”
“Well, what a family you must have, then,” Emma retorted and Regina huffed. She couldn’t let the girl under her skin like that, but the comment riled her up. It wasn’t as if Emma was wrong, but it irritated her to hear it from her. She tensed up again - a nasty headache was starting to pound in her forehead and she hoped to God she wasn’t developing a migraine.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Emma moving forward and flip on the radio.
“Please leave that alone,” Regina told her, before turning the radio off again. Exasperated, Emma rolled her eyes.
“You’re really no fun, are you?” Emma said. “So because you’re no fun, that means that I shouldn’t have it either?”
“Your words, not mine,” Regina answered evenly, eyes on the road. Emma sighed and stared ahead.
“Do you think Killian’s out of jail by now?” she asked after a couple of seconds of heavy silence.
“To be honest,” Regina replied in a matter-of-fact tone, “I don’t think he spent a second in there. His lawyers probably waited on the steps.”
Emma closed her eyes. “Man, that’s so unfair,” she muttered and it drew a smile from Regina. Yes, she agreed in silence, some things were completely unfair.
She opened her mouth to retort when she heard the familiar tune coming from her cellphone. Her father, she knew, because he was the only one with a different tune. The only one she would always pick up.
Emma looked at her intently. “I’m going to answer this,” Regina told her, “And you’re going to be real quiet, all right?”
Emma shrugged. She could care less, probably, Regina thought.
“Daddy?” Regina said after accepting the call through the car kit.
“Regina, sweetheart. Something’s happened to your mother,” an older male voice entered through the speakers of the car. He sounded distressed, and it immediately worried Regina and she felt her hands growing clammy in response.
“What?”
“She had a heart attack,” the man continued, voice wavering.
“When?” Regina demanded, eyes wide.
“A few hours ago.”
Regina’s eyes flew to Emma, who’d been listening to the short conversations. Emma looked back, eyes wide as well, and had sat straight up when she’d heard the news. Regina’s history with her mother had always been enormously problematic and intense, but in the end, it was still her mother. Deep down, she still loved her. And the idea of her being on the verge of passing from this world distressed her so much that she could hardly make a coherent sentence.
“Can you get here as soon as you can?” her father urged.
“I- I….” Regina stuttered, falling silent again, and then, Emma leaned over. “Yes, yes she can,” she yelled.
There was a silence in the car. Emma pursed her lips together. If looks could kill, she’d probably died right that instant.
“Regina, sweetheart, is there someone in the car with you?”
“Not for much longer,” Regina said, glaring at her passenger, emotions of worry, anger, anxiety flashing over her face.
“No, no. Bring your girlfriend. She’s very welcome here, you know that.”
“Daddy, no, it’s not-”
“We’ll be there in a couple of hours, Mister Mills,” Emma replied instead, earning her another deadly glare.
“Please hurry,” the man said. “No matter what’s happened between you and your mother, Regina, you must know that she loves you. I don’t know how much time…” His voice faltered, and Regina was quick to reassure him.
"We will come right away,” she told him before she broke the connection and her head snapped to Emma so fast that it was a surprise she didn’t snap her neck.
“What-the-HELL-were you thinking? I specifically told you-”
“Your mother is fucking dying, Regina,” Emma snapped back. She couldn’t believe that Regina would be petty about her interfering in the call when the brunette couldn’t say a word.
“We don’t know yet if she’s dying,” she snapped, trying to control her accelerated breath. “All right, all right. We will go to my parent’s place, check on her, and then we’ll leave.”
“Why don’t you check me into the hotel first closeby?”
“No. You’re my responsibility,” Regina growled. “You’re coming with me.”
Emma eyed her warily. And after a moment of silence, she asked, “You’re really taking me to meet your parents? How are you going to explain me?”
“Well, Miss Swan,” Regina replied through clenched teeth. She was sworn to secrecy, had to hide the bundle of joy sitting next to her, and couldn’t tell her father she’d brought home a case. So Emma was not going to like what she was going to say next. “Since my father already pulled some conclusions on his own, you’re going to have to pretend to be my girlfriend.”
Emma recoiled in her seat. “Wait, what? I just assumed he meant girl-friend. A friend that is a girl. I- I mean, you’re gay?” She stuttered and looked at Regina, bewildered. “I mean, it’s totally fine if you are, I didn’t mean to - are you?” She eyed Regina suspiciously.
“Can you please stop talking? Yes, Miss Swan, as you so eloquently put it, I am gay and my family knows, which is one of the reasons my mother and I don’t really get along,” Regina snapped as she switched lanes. She’d planked the gas pedal and they were swiftly passing other cars, probably on their way home for Christmas as well.
“But I.. I… I don’t know how to be a girlfriend,” Emma cried out, “I never was one. I never had one! I’ve never been even remotely attracted to women. Not that you’re not attractive,” she hastily added, “Because you are, but…” Her voice faltered.
Regina rolled her eyes and sighed, ran a hand through her hair. “Okay. New plan. We’ll tell them we just started dating. You know how to do dates now, don't you, Miss Swan? That way we can also explain that we know nothing about each other’s personal lives just yet.”
Emma’s breath had sped up. “We can also just tell them that I am a waitress that you have to protect.”
Regina snorted. “No, we can’t. You’re a witness that I need to hide from prying eyes. My boss explicitly told me that nobody can know where you are except me.” Her eyes flicked to the passenger seat, and she scoffed. “Besides, my dear father, heartfelt romantic as he is, already made his own conclusions so now probably everyone knows about you. If they’d caught your name, you’d be googled silly by now.”
“Oh. Wow. They really care for you, huh?” Emma said, after she let it sink in for a couple of seconds. Regina rolled her eyes - it was barely visible in the shadows of the car, but the brunette had a way of rolling her eyes so hard that you could probably see it when it was completely dark.
“Storybrooke, Maine, where we’re going, is a quaint, stuck up little town where nothing ever is happening. One of the few gays coming home for Christmas with a girlfriend is probably news they’d put on the front page if they could.” She sighed impatiently. “Hopefully, my mother’s condition will divert my father from too much inquiry.”
“You’re so not my type,” Emma muttered and for some reason, that remark annoyed Regina to her very core.
“Obnoxious loudmouthed waitresses aren’t my type either,” she snapped back.
“Whatever,” Emma spat back, voice raised.
“You have to promise to behave appropriately.” Regina’s tone was urgent now. A tight hand seemed to have taken a hold of her heart and it squeezed softly. If this was the last time she was going to see her mother… she couldn’t even think about that. Was it too late to make amends? To try and come closer? Regina swallowed, her eyes flicked to Emma. “Please,” she said, quieter.
Now, it was Emma’s turn to roll her eyes. “Yeah, sure. No problem.” The blonde sunk back into the chair, arms folded.
Regina’s hands tightened around the steering wheel and she stepped on the gas.