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Ever since their return from the Underworld, Storybrooke has been quiet. No new monsters, or villains, or curses. Emma wouldn't ordinarily mind, but now that she's no longer the Dark One, the town trusts her again to be their Sheriff and she is, for lack of a better descriptive, bored out of her goddamn mind. She thought returning to work might add a little bit of normalcy to her day, keep her mind off the things she's done that she'd rather not remember, and it did—it does, but without any actual policing to do, she's stuck sitting behind a desk for 8 to 10 hours with nothing to do.
If that isn't bad enough, she's been saddled with the night shift for going on a week now because Snow needed David at home to help with Neal, so even a visit from the Mayor is a rarity she's starting to miss.
Missing Regina isn't exactly a new concept to Emma, but she misses being yelled at and rolling her eyes whenever Regina gets all bitchy and full of sarcasm about her paperwork being late. She misses being told a monkey could do her job better, and then Regina insinuating that a monkey does do her job better as she not so subtly makes references to her father.
Emma sighs and throws her pen down on her desk. The last time she'd even seen Regina was four days ago, and it was barely more than a glimpse out her rearview mirror when she dropped Henry off at the mansion. If she didn't know better, she'd think Regina is avoiding her but she hasn't done anything wrong, so that can't be right.
The phone rings, pulling Emma from her musings and she slumps in her seat. "Sheriff Swan," she answers on the third ring to the mutter of a thank god and a voice she doesn't recognize rambling about a Queen and a possible fight.
"I'm sorry," she interrupts, hoping to slow him down because so far she's made out maybe half of what he's said. "Who is this?"
"Jake," the man replies. "I'm a bartender down at the Rabbit Hole."
Emma shakes her head. She's never heard of him, which doesn't really surprise her. She isn't the most social person in the world and really only meets new people when she has to break up a dispute, or when they're trying to kill her— and on the not so rare occasion; when the two go hand in hand. "Right. You said something about a Queen? Which one?"
"Mayor Mills." Emma blinks, stare fixed to a smudge on the window of her office as she tries to digest everything he's told her. He takes her silence as reason to launch into another long, senseless diatribe and she catches a little more of the story.
"I'll be right there," she says, cutting him off as she hangs up and shoots out of her chair. From what she'd understood, Regina is at the Rabbit Hole, drunk, and threatening to light someone on fire for… some reason.
Emma has to see this.
Four minutes and thirty six seconds later…
The cruiser's tires screech as Emma pulls up to the curb and slams on the breaks. She throws open the door and jumps out of the car, feeling too many things at once for her to settle on one as her heart pounds against her chest and she enters the bar, freezing the second she steps through the doors and takes in the scene before her.
Regina sits draped over a table, head in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. Next to her is Killian with an arm around her shoulders, which Emma thinks is bizarre in it itself but what she finds even more bizarre, are the two bodies lying passed out on the floor, one of who is none other than Robin Hood.
Emma forces herself to take a step forward, and then another, and another until she stands at his feet. Upon closer inspection, Robin is completely drenched and there is a large puddle forming around him, the reason for which she realizes when she crouches down and sees the familiar charring on his clothes.
Feeling the eyes on her, Emma looks up to see Regina staring at her. "Here to arrest me, Sheriff?"
Emma stands, not entirely certain she can answer truthfully. She gestures to the second body, a woman, and raises an eyebrow. "His date, I assume?" Because that is what Emma expects from a man who would cheat on his wife, and then turn it around to somehow make it the Mistress' fault when she realizes she deserves better.
Regina shrugs and raises her glass, sipping at her wine and leaving Killian to answer for her. "Aye," he says, scowling. "He came to rub the fact he's moved on in her face."
Emma snorts and quickly raises her hands as they both glare at her. "I'm sorry, I just don't understand how lowering his expectations was something to brag about." She gestures to Regina. "I mean look at you, you're smart, sassy and drop dead gorgeous, and she's… Who even is she?"
"Jessica."
Emma glances down at the woman, and then back up, confused. "As in Rabbit?"
Regina suddenly laughs and Emma can't help but smile. She's always loved that sound. "No," Killian answers after a moment. "As in someone from the outside."
Emma shakes her head. "So he's on a date with someone he has to lie to for the rest of his life," she drawls. "Great basis for a relationship. What did you do to him?"
"I threw a fireball at him." Regina smirks and Emma silently congratulates her with a look. "His little girlfriend started freaking out, so I put her to sleep and dumped a bucket of water over him, which is when he decided to swear at me—"
"So I punched him in the face," Killian finishes, smug as he raises his beer and tips it to her before knocking it back.
"And so I ask again, Sheriff." Emma forces her gaze back to Regina. "Are you here to arrest me?"
She should, despite her feelings. Not only did Regina assault two people, but she'd risked exposing them to the world, all for a man who didn't deserve to be the gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe let alone someone Regina once cared for, and maybe even loved. But then again, Emma is the Sheriff and considering she's never really much liked the man… well—who besides him will even care what she does?
"As far as I'm concerned, he provoked you," she replies before gesturing to the couple on the floor. "Will they wake up on their own?"
Regina nods, eyeing her warily as she asks, "Why?"
"Because although I'm not going to arrest you, I am going to take you home." She can see the protest coming from a mile away, and stops it in its tracks. "It's late, you're drunk, and unlike this piece of trash at my feet, I care about you."
Killian pouts, drawing her attention when he questions, "What about me?"
"You're tipsy at best and can walk home just fine." She pauses to consider it. "Unless you want me to arrest you, which I can do since you don't even have being drunk as a reason for assaulting someone."
Her words wipe the pout from his face and he gasps before arguing, "I was defending her honour!"
Emma inclines her head at the same moment Regina pats his arm. "Which is why I haven't," she concedes with a smirk. She doubts Regina needed it, more than capable of fighting her own battles, but she would have done the exact same thing. In fact, she would have punched the prick as soon as he appeared.
"Thank you for your company, Killian." Regina stands, swaying lightly on her feet.
Killian steadies her with a hand on her back and smiles. "Someone should look out for you when your Sheriff is busy," he says, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. "Isn't that right, love?"
Emma squints at him and his face transforms into one of picture perfect innocence. She shakes her head and makes a mental note to strangle him later as she waves a hand, shoving the bodies out of her way before she steps forward and slides an arm around Regina's waist.
"I am quite capable of walking, Sheriff."
Emma rolls her eyes. "This is me caring, shut up and accept it." Regina sighs but leans into her and Emma turns to Hook, catching the flash of a grin before it disappears and he stares back at her. She notes that for later too. "Don't drink too much."
"Aww." He chuckles as the grin reemerges and he teases, "You do care about me."
She nods, not denying it. "I often wonder why," she says instead, dismissing him entirely as she returns her attention to Regina and helps her walk out of the bar without tripping in her ridiculous heels.
Leading her over to the cruiser, she tugs open the door and guides her into the passenger seat, waiting until Regina is settled before she closes the door and jogs around to the driver's side. As she drops down into her own seat, she glances over and promptly rolls her eyes before she reaches across Regina for the seat belt, ignoring the hole Regina burns into the side of her head as it clicks in place.
When she leans back and their eyes meet, she freezes. It has been a while since she last saw that look of longing, and longer still since she last had the thought to kiss it off that face. Emma clears her throat and slowly pulls away, gripping the steering wheel in one hand as she reaches for the keys and starts the car with the other.
It had been a bad idea then, and it is a bad idea now because last time? Yeah, Emma had kissed her and Regina hadn't responded, nor had she ever mentioned that night.
Emma tells herself it's a bad idea over and over, and focuses as best she can on driving Regina home. She might never be free of her crippling attraction to the other mother of her son, but that doesn't mean she has to dwell on it. Regina had made her feelings on the matter clear, and Emma has never been someone who repeats her mistakes twice, regardless of how much she wants to.
"Does it ever stop?"
"No," Emma replies. She doesn't need to ask, not after that look—not when she still feels those eyes on her, searching her face. "Not in my experience, at least."
Regina sighs. "I'm—"
"Sorry?" Emma offers, catching the nod from the corner of her eye. "I doubt you'll remember this in the morning," she says, and maybe she should wait. Maybe she should wait until Regina will remember, but she's kept it in for months and for all she knows; this will be her only chance. "But I'm not."
"Emma—"
"No," she interrupts. They've stopped and the traffic light is green but Emma doesn't care. It's up now, it's up and she didn't bring it up but she has the chance and she isn't going to lose it. "I don't regret it, Regina, and I'm never going to. I have wondered for so long, and you gave me an answer."
Regina laughs and Emma feels the pang in her chest because that—that is not the response she expected. They're friends, they have been for a while, and Regina is drunk but she has never mocked her for her pain.
Emma shakes her head and swallows the venom that laces her thoughts. She turns back to the road and forces herself to drive. If this is why Regina never brought it up, then she wishes she could take back the past five minutes and never want for this again.
The silence lasts until she's parked at the curb. She should get out. She should get out of the car, walk around to the passenger door and help Regina out. She should lead her up the path and into the house, make absolutely certain Regina won't have an accident on the stairs, take her up them to her bedroom, put her to bed and leave.
Instead, Emma shuts off the engine and lets the silence continue as she sits back. She stares out the window and waits for Regina to move, waits for the fumble of the seatbelt disengaging. Waits for the door to open, and maybe a small curse when Regina stumbles because she's still wearing those goddamn heels.
But minutes pass, and Regina does none of those things. She breaks the silence. "He left me." Emma says nothing, but it doesn't deter Regina; she keeps talking. "He left me that night and then there you were, trying to comfort me, looking so… so lost. You didn't know what the hell you were doing, and I'd never laughed so much in my life watching you trying to figure it out."
Emma squeezes her eyes shut. She feared this, but she feared being wrong and never said anything. One look at tear stained cheeks and eyes that spoke to an almost limitless pain, and she had done everything in her power to hear that laugh no matter how much of an idiot she looked. To make the pain go away. To make Regina happy like she's always known she could if Regina just stopped focusing on the wrong person.
It was that laugh, that melodious sound filling her ears— her chest. She was mesmerized, seduced by the sound as she leaned in and captured soft, plump lips in a tender kiss.
"I didn't reject you because I didn't want you," Regina continues with a sigh. "I tried to tell you that night but you ran before I could."
Emma snorts as her head falls against the window with a dull thud. She has never run so fast in her life, and she wants to again. Not because she isn't overjoyed hearing what Regina is saying, but because…
"You won't remember this," she repeats and her chest pangs a second time for another reason entirely. "You tell me that my biggest regret is based on a misunderstanding, but come tomorrow morning, you won't remember and we'll go back to—"
Emma laughs because this, this is what she did wrong. "—to you avoiding me."
She jumps at the sudden hand on her thigh and whips her head around. Regina smiles and says, "I was at the bar tonight, drinking with a man I despise because he once told you he loved you. I wanted to know if what he felt was the same as what I felt that night. What I have continued to feel for you every day since."
Emma wants to ask but the words stick in her throat. "It wasn't," Regina admits, grabbing her chin when she attempts to turn away again. "Killian told me that if his feelings for you were half as strong as my own, he couldn't imagine life without you by his side."
Eyes stinging, Emma bites her lip as she lets the tears fall. She searches Regina's face and all she can see is that look of want, of longing, of adoration and love. It dawns on her then; what she doesn't see, and an almost hysterical laugh escapes as the heat enters her cheeks.
"You're not drunk," she whispers.
Regina shakes her head, smile widening. "Not enough to forget this," she murmurs before she leans in and captures her mouth in a slow, sweet kiss.