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*
Something doesn't feel right. About the fire.
It looks like Emma needs to have a conversation—confrontation with Mr. Gold. That water-resistant, stinky sheep's wool of his might be involved.
Over by an empty curb, outside the Mayor's office smoldering black, Regina glares alone, arms crossed, from a paramedic's stretcher.
Taking her chances, Emma uneasily clears her throat.
"I wanted to..." she starts, now getting glared down. "Whoa, uh, take it easy. Henry wanted me to check on you."
"My son is perfectly capable of doing so himself, Miss Swan."
Emma winces, scratching at the tip of her nose. Ugh, nervous habit.
"I'm just gonna let you know now... Henry's a bit freaked out." She admits, "We all are."
Scoffing softly, Regina mutters, "I'm fine."
"You almost weren't fine, Madam Mayor. I think that is really freaking him out..."
At the ugly, raspy cough escaping the other woman, Regina's breathing fluttery, Emma feels concern.
"Hey... um, that doesn't sound too good. Everything alright?"
"I inhale some smoke, is all. Thanks to you." Well, it doesn't sound thankful. Emma, after all, did save her from a worse fate. She decides to let it go while Regina chuckles bitterly, avoiding eye-contact. "For a moment back there, I thought... you were going to leave me behind."
Emma puffs her cheeks with air. Noisily.
"Oh, believe me, it was tempting," she says sullenly.
"So why not?"
Jeez, of course Regina would ask something like that...
Emma scratches her nose again, with an ash-filthied pinky nail, and glances around. She spots Henry. "The illegality of outing sealed juvie record documents and trying to smear me did get to me, but..." Emma trails off, voice softening, "That's not what good people do, Regina."
"Don't be naïve, Miss Swan. You only saved me for Henry's sake."
"You're putting words in my mouth." Emma doesn't know why she's bothering with arguing with her. Supposedly with Henry's idea of an 'Evil Queen'. It is almost tempting... to believe it sometimes. Out of pettiness. But Emma knows Regina isn't 'evil'. People are never 'only' or 'evil'. Ever. "Losing you to Henry would be... like losing a parent. You raised him. You care about him. I know this much about you."
Stifling another cough, Regina glares into Emma's direction. But it feels different. Regina's dark brown eyes, all watery.
"I would die for my son. In a heartbeat."
Emma lets Regina's words wash over her, squinting and tapping into what Henry knows as a 'superpower'. After a minute, Emma beams. "That's funny... I'm so used to you lying to my face, Madam Mayor, that... uh, I guess I don't know how to take the truth when you actually say it."
Maybe it's just the streetlight's reflection. Emma could have sworn that Regina's soot-smudged lips twitch up.
Another set of rasping coughs, wetter, leaves Regina's throat. She coughs, then struggles to breathe in. "You doing alright?" Emma instinctively reaches out, surprised that Regina's hand goes out too and seizes Emma's jacket-sleeve. "Wait. Hold on. Let me get the oxygen mask for you—"
Regina clutches for it, breathing easier. The hand not firmly seizing onto Emma, it quivers.
"You're okay, you're okay..." Emma repeats without thinking, spotting Henry again. He worriedly gets closer to them. "Hey. She's okay, kid."
Henry mumbles something nobody can hear. Then, Emma finally hears a...
"Can I come?"
"Come where, Henry?"
"Can I come to the hospital? With her?"
Regina's eyes widen, the tears falling down Regina's sooty face making little, pale trails.
"Of course you can come, Henry." Emma nods solemnly, managing to untangle herself from Regina's grip as the Storybrooke EMTs come and attend her. Emma hollers over sirens, "I'll drive him over! When they allow visitors into the room for family, I'll make sure Henry's there!"
She understands why Regina looks so speechless, so confused by Emma's good intentions, and doesn't need a 'thank you'. Not right this second.
Henry runs to Emma, hugging himself into her side.
"It's all gonna be alright..." she reassures, messing into Henry's brown hair.
*
Ugh, there's so much crap on her!
Once Henry is taken to Granny's (for Ruby babysitting him), and once the remaining EMTs clear Emma and her health, she showers off quickly in Mary Margaret's loft. Emma changes and investigates along with firemen at the Mayor's office. She's still Storybrooke's acting Deputy.
Finding the burnt leftovers of what started it, Emma groans to herself. Yeah... of course it is Mr. Gold.
Something REALLY doesn't feel right...
*
By morning, Emma gets a preliminary police-report filed.
She drives Henry over to Storybrooke General. Dr. Whale confirms that Regina's ankle is busted. And her lungs, her airways and Regina's nasal cavities suffered some smoke inhalation and minor burns. But it is all enough to be considered dangerous if Regina works without recovering.
With the public pressure mounting, it is collectively decided—by everyone, including Sidney Glass—to postpone the debate/election for Sheriff.
Regina checks herself out of Dr. Whale's care, far too early, and drags Henry out around by the wrist. She refuses crutches. Emma doesn't know how Regina even made it to Granny's Diner without her hobbling flat onto Regina's butt, on the Storybrooke's sidewalk. Or onto Regina's face.
Inside Granny's, she orders a hot cocoa cup with whipped cream and cinnamon, when Henry's shriek of "EMMA! EMMA, HELP!" reaches her ears.
Emma nearly breaks whatever's on the diner-table, hurrying out.
She's terrified of the sight of Henry hysterically babbling, unable to get Regina to answer him. Most of Regina collapsed onto the ground.
Damn it!
"Henry! The door!" Emma shouts, hefting Regina into her arms and ignoring how Regina's head flops backwards. Emma shouts for water too, as soon as Henry lets her through and maneuvers Regina upright into one of the booths. Granny fusses, bringing them towels. Ruby brings cold water.
It's another long, too long, moment before Regina coughs herself conscious. "Regina, we need to take you back to the hospital," Emma insists.
"Nno... no."
Regina's wheezing breathes, thinning.
Her flushed cheeks, an apple-red.
"Mom?" Henry, sitting up over a booth-back, protectively holds Regina's quivering fingers. "Mom?"
"Hen...ry?"
Nodding, Henry touches Regina's sweat-slick forehead. Definitely a high fever, Emma can tell. "Mom, you're sick. Please let Emma help."
"I've got an ambulance coming," Granny says, popping back into view.
Regina's brow furrows. "No..."
"Then I'm taking you myself," Emma says heatedly.
She waits for the deliriousness to pass, before a reluctant Regina nods.
It's not right...
How small and how light Regina's own weakened body feels, while cradled up in Emma's arms...
*
There's eyes everywhere in Storybrooke.
Some are Regina's, but a lot of them are Mr. Gold's.
Infuriated, Emma kicks her unlocked police cabinet-drawer hanging out. She didn't unlock this. Or take out her preliminary police-report.
*
Cane tapping, Mr. Gold strolls along where Moncton Street meets Third Ave. He smirks at Emma marching up angrily.
"Well, well..."
She interrupts him, silently smacking the vanilla ice cream cone out of Mr. Gold's hand.
"This is how you repay me as your benefactor?" Mr. Gold rumbles, unimpressed. "After introducing you to the town charter and a candidacy?"
Emma rages, "Blackmail? THIS is how you wanna play?"
"I am 'playing' at nothing, Miss Swan. It's just a small change. An adjustment really, to our deal."
"You could have KILLED HER."
"I would choose to see it as one less problem in your life, dearie."
Emma's eyes narrow.
"I know it was the lanolin that set fire to the Mayor's office, Gold," she says slowly. "It still smells like livestock, even after burning."
Chuckling, Mr. Gold smirks again.
"What an awful thing to witness, I hear... however... I also hear you were there to save the day, weren't you?"
He doesn't even react to Emma leaning in to stare stonily.
"Don't touch Regina or Henry. Especially now," she snaps. "Or you'll be dealing with me."
A tutting noise.
"No, no, I wouldn't dare to... incite your wrath further. For whatever reason you believe it to be."
Rolling her eyes at Mr. Gold's barely disguised amusement, she storms off. Maybe... maybe Henry was onto something about good always losing. Because good has to... 'play fair', or so Henry believed. She has a very real feeling that Mr. Gold never had to 'play fair' in his life.
*
Emma has to figured it out herself.
For now, she's grateful that Regina listens. And stays indoors. It might help that Henry, and Emma, also stay indoors with her.
"And... what exactly is this?"
"Hot pot party!" Henry gleefully tells her, showing Regina all of the food laid out on Regina's countertops. "Look! Mary Margaret picked up udon noodles and ramen for us! So we cook it with broth, and I wanted the pork belly slices and Emma asked for shrimp, and fish fillet, and beef!"
Emma cuts scallion greens on Regina's cleaned cutting board.
"We boil some spinach and potatoes and this, uh, lotus root stuff... and then add soy sauce." Emma points out, smiling, "It's kind of tasty." She senses Regina's mild-mannered distrust, but nothing gets said. Emma peeks over, cautious, as Regina's oxygen-tank thumps and wheels down.
Regina is supposed to be able to breathe better... pretty soon. If the next doctor's appointment says Regina's long-term recovery is going as expected. And her oxygen levels are higher. The burns, inside of Regina's throat and lungs and nostrils, heal up in the last couple of days. She's not losing consciousness anymore. Henry doesn't let Regina get far from him, acting clingy. Emma doesn't hear her complaining at all.
"You hungry, Madam Mayor?"
*
Shit, shit, shit...
Emma winces, unable to hide it. This wasn't supposed to happen...
"Oh, Miss Swan," Regina gloats, a wicked look in her eye, "You have no idea what I'm capable of..."
She proudly lays down her winning cards, and a defeated-looking Emma slaps her hands against her thighs.
Ugh, it's over.
Game-night nights suck.
"Emma, I told you! See! My mom plays dirty," Henry says eagerly, scratching his nose in an Emma-way. "That's why you can't beat her! Ever!"
Disapproving, Regina frowns.
"That's enough of that. Upstairs, young man, and finish your homework," she orders.
Henry climbs to his feet, in his blue silk matching set of pajamas—identical to Regina's pajamas on—and kisses Regina's cheek when Regina gestures for him. He hugs Regina, so, so carefully. Emma suppresses a smile. She laughs out, hugging back, when Henry rushes over to hug Emma.
"I'm starting to think Henry really, really likes having... both of us around," Emma admits, sipping on apple cider. "For him, I mean."
She fully expects Regina to dismiss Emma's truthful observation or an argument. Regina has made it obvious, time and time again, that she sees only herself as Henry's mother. And, truthfully, Emma is the one who gave Henry up. She won't apologize. She gave Henry his best chance.
Maybe... it turned out to be with Regina. Maybe.
What she's not expecting is the other woman coming over, slipping two fingers under Emma's chin and kissing her on the lips. Regina's mouth, irresistibly plush and warm. Emma lets out a stunned sound, breathless. "Has anyone ever told you to be careful who you get into bed with?"
"Hey, watch it..." Emma manages to get out, awkwardly laughing. "There's a kid upstairs."
Such a wicked, wicked look.
And Emma already knows... she's in too deep to leave.
"Then it would be best if you kept your voice down, Miss Swan."
*