Whatever This Is (Once Upon a Time; Regina/Emma)
TITLE: Whatever This Is
CHAPTER 8: Firsts
FANDOM: Once Upon a Time
PAIRING: Swan Queen (Regina/Emma)
SPOILERS: AU from beginning of "The Cricket Game"
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Regina stares at the triangular, gooey piece of food in front of her, contemplating how best to break it to Emma that she has no intention of biting into such an abomination.
*****
Regina stares at the triangular, gooey piece of food in front of her, contemplating how best to break it to Emma that she has no intention of biting into such an abomination. She looks up to find the blonde currently trying to make sense of her home theater system. Smirking, she teases her, "Never expected to find this here, did you?"
Emma's busy scrutinizing a few of the remotes in her hand, but doesn't miss tossing her a look over her shoulder. "I didn't even think you knew what TV was when I came here."
Her smirk only widens, and she rolls her eyes, getting comfortable on her plush sofa. "Explain to me again what these round meat-like things are on this... pizza."
Emma throws her a grin, setting down two of the remotes, having located the correct one for the DVD player. "It's pepperoni," she tells her, and then stands up. "You know, this is kinda like introducing a caveman to pizza."
She can't help the wounded look she directs toward the blonde, who then rolls her eyes and reassures her, "But you're much nicer to look at than a caveman." After a beat, she adds, "Much cleaner eyebrows."
At that, Regina chuckles. She picks up her plate again and studies the slice in front of her. "So this is sauce, cheese, bread, and something passing for meat."
"Oh my God," Emma widens her eyes in exasperation. "Would you just try it already?"
Glaring, Regina grabs for her knife and fork. Her mouth goes slack in silent protest when the blonde snatches them away from her.
"Uh-uh!" she shakes her head. "We're not at a royal ball here, Queenie. You eat pizza with your hands."
"But it's big, and there's so much grease!" she complains, and stares with disdain at the slice of pizza in front of her. It just seems so uncivilized.
But Emma just stares at her, not letting up, and finally she lets out an agitated huff and picks up the slice. She eyes her sofa warily, and opens her mouth to suggest that maybe they eat in the dining room after all.
Emma cuts her off with a shake of the head. "Eat it."
So Regina glares at her and bites off the point. She grimaces around the initial taste and begins to chew, and... well, perhaps it's not so bad.
Her pleasant surprise must register in her expression, for soon Emma is smiling knowingly at her. "Not so bad, right?"
She doesn't want to concede too much, however. She doesn't want her getting a superiority complex, after all. "It's... not the worst thing."
Emma gives her a smirk, and it was ridiculous of her to think that she wouldn't get a superiority complex anyway. "Just wait until you try the beer."
"Baby steps," Regina tells her, and the two of them settle back on the couch together, on opposite ends, as the DVD player whirs to life.
The usual titles pop up - government threats about redistribution, and several 'coming attractions' that Emma skips past, before they get to the main menu. And at seeing the title, Regina frowns, slowly looking over at her counterpart in disbelief. "You brought over something called... 'Die Hard'?"
Emma nods and smiles, clearly satisfied with herself. She looks over at Regina and tells her, "It's a classic," as if that will boost the quality in her eyes.
The slice of pizza is set aside and forgotten. Regina sits back against the plush couch, arms folded across her chest and brow quirked in a challenge. "No," she intones slowly, drawing out the word. "'Casablanca' is a classic. Any movie starring either Hepburn - Katharine or Audrey, can be deemed a 'classic.' This is..." She gestures to the screen as Emma hits play, blowing a puff of air past her lips in derision. "This is a glorified explosion interlaced with curse words."
Emma widens her eyes again, this time in surprise. "You've seen it?"
"No, of course not!" Shaking her head, she slumps further against the couch, mouth settling into a frown as she prepares herself for the next hour-plus of her life to be plucked from her against her will. "I have, however, heard of it."
"Oh. Well, just keep an open mind! You might like it."
Doubtful, she thinks, and then an idea strikes her. She perks up a bit, and reaches for her plate once again. "I'll make you a deal, my dear," she purrs, feeling a bit like Rumplestiltskin in the moment. "If I survive this..." she hates to even use this word, "'film,' of yours, then... you stay awhile longer and we'll watch one of the films that I like." She sticks out her hand, raising a brow. "Do we have a deal?"
Emma regards her for a moment, probably disbelieving that she's actually seen any movies in her time spent holed up in this timeless town. Finally, she quirks a half-smile and reaches out, taking her hand. "Alright, deal."
They shake on it, and Regina takes another bite of her pizza, not even bothering to pretend this time that she doesn't like it.
**
The movie is much longer than she initially expects, but luckily it's not as horrible as she expects either. It's just not anything she would bother watching again. The plot is ludicrous -- getaway vehicles, tons of explosives, terrorist plots, and one renegade cop that outsmarts them all.
Emma thoroughly enjoys all 132 minutes of the movie, if the fact that her eyes remain glued to the screen the entire time can serve as any indication. Regina hates to admit it to herself, but... the most entertaining part of this whole affair is watching Emma watch the movie.
Her blue-green eyes grow large with glee at any explosion or gunfire, and she would occasionally spout off "Oh shit," at certain points while blindly reaching for another slice of pizza.
It's horribly undignified, and yet, strangely... endearing.
Regina shakes herself out of the trance, sitting up. Finding anything Emma Swan does endearing is simply... insane. Perhaps she should set herself up for a sojourn in a nice padded cell in the hospital's basement. Perhaps even next to Sidney.
"Well?" Emma asks when the credits roll, turning to Regina with what she can only think to describe as excitement written all over her face.
Regina purses her lips, ready to tell her that it's easily one of the worst movies she's ever seen. But for some reason, she can't quite bring herself to do it. Instead, she says, "It wasn't... completely unbearable."
Excitedly, Emma grabs her hand and squeezes it tight. "I knew you'd like it. Alright, so what's next?"
Regina looks down at their hands, intertwined over the fluffy cream cushions of her couch. Then she sucks in a breath and drops Emma's hand, rising to her feet. "Now, I believe we should take care of the rest of this pizza before it congeals any further."
"Sure," Emma agrees, and follows her to the kitchen. "You wanna keep any leftovers?"
Regina feels the need to remind her that there are only two slices left. She'd managed to stomach two of them throughout the duration of the movie, and Emma somehow fit four into that impossibly-flat stomach of hers. She shakes her head. "They're all yours."
"Did you enjoy it at all?" she asks, leaning on the counter, and she looks so damned hopeful.
Regina flashes her a smile. "Yes, I did. Not to worry."
"Oh! Good." Without preamble, Emma heads into her refrigerator as if she lives there, and pulls out the six pack of glass bottles she'd toted along at the beginning of the evening. "Now, some beer!"
Regina sighs, wiping her hands of any leftover pizza grease on a nearby dishtowel. "Don't you think I've had enough 'firsts' for this evening? Pizza and action movies?"
Emma just grins, "Nope," and hooks her arm with hers on the way back to the living room.
Regina can't help the chuckle, and she looks over at the blonde, somewhat amazed at what strides they've been making. It's lovely. It's too much. She should run, or perhaps conjure up a quick curse to force them apart again.
Emma takes no notice of her stare as they reach the living room, and she flops down on the couch so roughly that Regina very nearly admonishes her the same way she does Henry when he flings himself about on the furniture. Instead, she smooths out her now slightly-wrinkled dress pants, and makes her way over to the small case of movies she keeps.
"So what are we watching?" Emma asks, and she can feel the blonde's eyes on her.
She smiles, telling her cryptically, "You'll see," and flips through to find the correct disc.
It has never been difficult for Regina to recognize the feeling of being watched -- over the years, she's become so skilled at it, she can even sense where a pair of eyes roam. Currently, the Swan woman's are somewhere in the region of her butt, and she can't help the quirk of her brow as she says teasingly, "You know how the old saying goes, Emma... 'take a picture, it'll last longer.'"
When she turns over her shoulder, Emma's eyes snap back up to hers before they roll toward the ceiling. She reaches for a beer, twists off the top and says, "Don't flatter yourself," before grinning and taking a big swig.
When Regina joins her, something in her makes her sit a little closer, and she can't deny the slight thrill that rattles through her as their shoulders bump. Emma reaches forward and grabs another bottle, twisting the cap off and handing it to her.
"It's kind of an acquired taste," she tells her, "But you'll like it."
Regina just purses her lips and starts the DVD. This time when the titles come up, it's Emma's turn to protest.
"Oh no, no Regina," and she throws her a look as if she's about to be tortured. "Not 'Breakfast at Tiffany's', come on!"
She smirks, haughtiness in her tone. "I do believe we had a deal."
Emma huffs and slumps against the couch. Regina is propped on her side, and their shoulders are touching once more. Emma grumbles beside her and Regina gives her a quick shoulder-check, enjoying the wince she gets in return.
"It's an acquired taste," she teases. "But you'll like it."
She feels the blonde glaring at her but is happy to ignore it, as they settle in to watch a second film together.
**
Regina dozes off somewhere within the second half of the movie, not a sip taken from her beer. When she comes to, it's to realize her head is resting on something quite hard. Another few moments pass before she realizes it's Emma's shoulder, who moves slightly to take another sip of beer.
She can hear George Peppard onscreen, making his big speech to Audrey Hepburn's character at the end of the film.
"You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You're chicken, you've got no guts."
She hears a noise from slightly above her that sounds suspiciously like a sniffle.
"You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, 'Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness.'"
Regina slowly lifts her head, unseen by Emma, who is downright engrossed with the film and blinking away moisture in her eyes.
"You call yourself a free spirit, a 'wild thing,' and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bound in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself."
Regina's dumbfounded by what she's seeing. Either that or she's dreaming. Has the hardened and jaded Savior just been moved to tears by -- as Emma herself called it not two hours ago -- a 'girly-movie'? She props herself up on an elbow again, lifting her head fully off the blonde's shoulder.
"Emma..."
"I'm not crying," Emma snips at her.
Regina smiles, her tone indulgent. "I'd never accuse you of doing something so feminine."
Emma turns to glare, and she can see the moisture unmistakably. "Alright fine, so that part got to me." Looking down at her beer bottle, she peels away what's left of the label, and Regina wonders how long she'd been sitting there, just picking at it. Softly, she admits, "Maybe it hits a little close to home."
Regina's not sure what to say -- it's not often the Savior looks vulnerable, after all -- and instead she leans on her elbow again, still propped on her side. Her shoulder rests against Emma's once more and they turn to watch the movie.
It's pouring rain in New York City and Audrey Hepburn has gotten out of the taxi cab to look for her cat. She finds him with George Peppard and the music swells. A big, cinematic kiss ends the film as do the final strains of 'Moon River,' and then it fades out.
Regina's left wondering what to do, then. Should she tease Emma for liking the film? She's uncertain what frame of mind the blonde is in right now. She feels her turning to look at her, and she looks up, just slightly.
"I used to do a lot of running, you know," she says, quietly.
Regina pushes herself up again, angling to face Emma. Her elbow presses deep into the back of the couch and she tucks her legs up beside her, prompting her softly, "Go on."
She sighs. "My whole time growing up, I never belonged to anybody. I never stayed in one place. A few months with a foster family here," she tilts her head one way, and then the other, "a few years over there. I hated every minute of it. So I kept running. Even when I grew up, I ran. Ran all the way to Florida for awhile and wound up stealing cars, among other things, in Tallahassee."
Regina raises her eyebrows, a dozen comments cropping up about a car thief as her son's biological mother, but she keeps them to herself. Instead, she just listens.
And Emma tells her... well, not everything, she's certain, but it's a great deal of information. There's a yellow death-trap of a car and a fellow thief named Neal -- one that she hoped to make a life with before she was sent to jail and he abandoned her.
Regina swallows. "This Neal, he's... Henry's father?"
Emma nods. "Yeah."
She plays with something around her neck, and it takes Regina a moment to realize it's a pendant of a swan. Emma notices her stare and tells her it was something Neal had given to -- or, well, stolen for -- her. "He was my first love, y'know? And it was the first time I ever thought that maybe I could..." she shrugs, and looks down at her well-peeled beer bottle, "I dunno, quit running." When she looks up, her eyes are soft, and she asks even softer, "You ever feel like that about anyone?"
Regina nods, a lump already swelling in her throat. "Once," she tells her.
The look on Emma's face lets her know that the name 'Daniel' is on her mind. And Regina's never wanted to talk about this with anyone. When she brought it up with Emma the first time, she kicked herself for days, knowing that the blonde would needle her endlessly until she found out everything.
But surprisingly... she's done the opposite. It's been awhile now, and Emma has not bugged her or poked or prodded. When they'd been drunk together and she knew the blonde wanted to ask, she was prepared to tell her and it was Emma that stopped her.
"You want me to tell you about Daniel... don't you?"
"When you're up for it."
"Emma?" she calls out tentatively, and her hand reaches out of its own accord.
Emma catches it within her own, and her eyes shine with nothing but understanding as she says softly, almost encouragingly, "Yeah, Regina."
It's another first, certainly. And it's one that makes her stomach tumble... it almost makes her nauseous as she steels her courage, takes a breath and then tells her, "I'd like to tell you about Daniel now."
TBC
CHAPTER 8: Firsts
FANDOM: Once Upon a Time
PAIRING: Swan Queen (Regina/Emma)
SPOILERS: AU from beginning of "The Cricket Game"
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Regina stares at the triangular, gooey piece of food in front of her, contemplating how best to break it to Emma that she has no intention of biting into such an abomination.
*****
Regina stares at the triangular, gooey piece of food in front of her, contemplating how best to break it to Emma that she has no intention of biting into such an abomination. She looks up to find the blonde currently trying to make sense of her home theater system. Smirking, she teases her, "Never expected to find this here, did you?"
Emma's busy scrutinizing a few of the remotes in her hand, but doesn't miss tossing her a look over her shoulder. "I didn't even think you knew what TV was when I came here."
Her smirk only widens, and she rolls her eyes, getting comfortable on her plush sofa. "Explain to me again what these round meat-like things are on this... pizza."
Emma throws her a grin, setting down two of the remotes, having located the correct one for the DVD player. "It's pepperoni," she tells her, and then stands up. "You know, this is kinda like introducing a caveman to pizza."
She can't help the wounded look she directs toward the blonde, who then rolls her eyes and reassures her, "But you're much nicer to look at than a caveman." After a beat, she adds, "Much cleaner eyebrows."
At that, Regina chuckles. She picks up her plate again and studies the slice in front of her. "So this is sauce, cheese, bread, and something passing for meat."
"Oh my God," Emma widens her eyes in exasperation. "Would you just try it already?"
Glaring, Regina grabs for her knife and fork. Her mouth goes slack in silent protest when the blonde snatches them away from her.
"Uh-uh!" she shakes her head. "We're not at a royal ball here, Queenie. You eat pizza with your hands."
"But it's big, and there's so much grease!" she complains, and stares with disdain at the slice of pizza in front of her. It just seems so uncivilized.
But Emma just stares at her, not letting up, and finally she lets out an agitated huff and picks up the slice. She eyes her sofa warily, and opens her mouth to suggest that maybe they eat in the dining room after all.
Emma cuts her off with a shake of the head. "Eat it."
So Regina glares at her and bites off the point. She grimaces around the initial taste and begins to chew, and... well, perhaps it's not so bad.
Her pleasant surprise must register in her expression, for soon Emma is smiling knowingly at her. "Not so bad, right?"
She doesn't want to concede too much, however. She doesn't want her getting a superiority complex, after all. "It's... not the worst thing."
Emma gives her a smirk, and it was ridiculous of her to think that she wouldn't get a superiority complex anyway. "Just wait until you try the beer."
"Baby steps," Regina tells her, and the two of them settle back on the couch together, on opposite ends, as the DVD player whirs to life.
The usual titles pop up - government threats about redistribution, and several 'coming attractions' that Emma skips past, before they get to the main menu. And at seeing the title, Regina frowns, slowly looking over at her counterpart in disbelief. "You brought over something called... 'Die Hard'?"
Emma nods and smiles, clearly satisfied with herself. She looks over at Regina and tells her, "It's a classic," as if that will boost the quality in her eyes.
The slice of pizza is set aside and forgotten. Regina sits back against the plush couch, arms folded across her chest and brow quirked in a challenge. "No," she intones slowly, drawing out the word. "'Casablanca' is a classic. Any movie starring either Hepburn - Katharine or Audrey, can be deemed a 'classic.' This is..." She gestures to the screen as Emma hits play, blowing a puff of air past her lips in derision. "This is a glorified explosion interlaced with curse words."
Emma widens her eyes again, this time in surprise. "You've seen it?"
"No, of course not!" Shaking her head, she slumps further against the couch, mouth settling into a frown as she prepares herself for the next hour-plus of her life to be plucked from her against her will. "I have, however, heard of it."
"Oh. Well, just keep an open mind! You might like it."
Doubtful, she thinks, and then an idea strikes her. She perks up a bit, and reaches for her plate once again. "I'll make you a deal, my dear," she purrs, feeling a bit like Rumplestiltskin in the moment. "If I survive this..." she hates to even use this word, "'film,' of yours, then... you stay awhile longer and we'll watch one of the films that I like." She sticks out her hand, raising a brow. "Do we have a deal?"
Emma regards her for a moment, probably disbelieving that she's actually seen any movies in her time spent holed up in this timeless town. Finally, she quirks a half-smile and reaches out, taking her hand. "Alright, deal."
They shake on it, and Regina takes another bite of her pizza, not even bothering to pretend this time that she doesn't like it.
**
The movie is much longer than she initially expects, but luckily it's not as horrible as she expects either. It's just not anything she would bother watching again. The plot is ludicrous -- getaway vehicles, tons of explosives, terrorist plots, and one renegade cop that outsmarts them all.
Emma thoroughly enjoys all 132 minutes of the movie, if the fact that her eyes remain glued to the screen the entire time can serve as any indication. Regina hates to admit it to herself, but... the most entertaining part of this whole affair is watching Emma watch the movie.
Her blue-green eyes grow large with glee at any explosion or gunfire, and she would occasionally spout off "Oh shit," at certain points while blindly reaching for another slice of pizza.
It's horribly undignified, and yet, strangely... endearing.
Regina shakes herself out of the trance, sitting up. Finding anything Emma Swan does endearing is simply... insane. Perhaps she should set herself up for a sojourn in a nice padded cell in the hospital's basement. Perhaps even next to Sidney.
"Well?" Emma asks when the credits roll, turning to Regina with what she can only think to describe as excitement written all over her face.
Regina purses her lips, ready to tell her that it's easily one of the worst movies she's ever seen. But for some reason, she can't quite bring herself to do it. Instead, she says, "It wasn't... completely unbearable."
Excitedly, Emma grabs her hand and squeezes it tight. "I knew you'd like it. Alright, so what's next?"
Regina looks down at their hands, intertwined over the fluffy cream cushions of her couch. Then she sucks in a breath and drops Emma's hand, rising to her feet. "Now, I believe we should take care of the rest of this pizza before it congeals any further."
"Sure," Emma agrees, and follows her to the kitchen. "You wanna keep any leftovers?"
Regina feels the need to remind her that there are only two slices left. She'd managed to stomach two of them throughout the duration of the movie, and Emma somehow fit four into that impossibly-flat stomach of hers. She shakes her head. "They're all yours."
"Did you enjoy it at all?" she asks, leaning on the counter, and she looks so damned hopeful.
Regina flashes her a smile. "Yes, I did. Not to worry."
"Oh! Good." Without preamble, Emma heads into her refrigerator as if she lives there, and pulls out the six pack of glass bottles she'd toted along at the beginning of the evening. "Now, some beer!"
Regina sighs, wiping her hands of any leftover pizza grease on a nearby dishtowel. "Don't you think I've had enough 'firsts' for this evening? Pizza and action movies?"
Emma just grins, "Nope," and hooks her arm with hers on the way back to the living room.
Regina can't help the chuckle, and she looks over at the blonde, somewhat amazed at what strides they've been making. It's lovely. It's too much. She should run, or perhaps conjure up a quick curse to force them apart again.
Emma takes no notice of her stare as they reach the living room, and she flops down on the couch so roughly that Regina very nearly admonishes her the same way she does Henry when he flings himself about on the furniture. Instead, she smooths out her now slightly-wrinkled dress pants, and makes her way over to the small case of movies she keeps.
"So what are we watching?" Emma asks, and she can feel the blonde's eyes on her.
She smiles, telling her cryptically, "You'll see," and flips through to find the correct disc.
It has never been difficult for Regina to recognize the feeling of being watched -- over the years, she's become so skilled at it, she can even sense where a pair of eyes roam. Currently, the Swan woman's are somewhere in the region of her butt, and she can't help the quirk of her brow as she says teasingly, "You know how the old saying goes, Emma... 'take a picture, it'll last longer.'"
When she turns over her shoulder, Emma's eyes snap back up to hers before they roll toward the ceiling. She reaches for a beer, twists off the top and says, "Don't flatter yourself," before grinning and taking a big swig.
When Regina joins her, something in her makes her sit a little closer, and she can't deny the slight thrill that rattles through her as their shoulders bump. Emma reaches forward and grabs another bottle, twisting the cap off and handing it to her.
"It's kind of an acquired taste," she tells her, "But you'll like it."
Regina just purses her lips and starts the DVD. This time when the titles come up, it's Emma's turn to protest.
"Oh no, no Regina," and she throws her a look as if she's about to be tortured. "Not 'Breakfast at Tiffany's', come on!"
She smirks, haughtiness in her tone. "I do believe we had a deal."
Emma huffs and slumps against the couch. Regina is propped on her side, and their shoulders are touching once more. Emma grumbles beside her and Regina gives her a quick shoulder-check, enjoying the wince she gets in return.
"It's an acquired taste," she teases. "But you'll like it."
She feels the blonde glaring at her but is happy to ignore it, as they settle in to watch a second film together.
**
Regina dozes off somewhere within the second half of the movie, not a sip taken from her beer. When she comes to, it's to realize her head is resting on something quite hard. Another few moments pass before she realizes it's Emma's shoulder, who moves slightly to take another sip of beer.
She can hear George Peppard onscreen, making his big speech to Audrey Hepburn's character at the end of the film.
"You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You're chicken, you've got no guts."
She hears a noise from slightly above her that sounds suspiciously like a sniffle.
"You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, 'Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness.'"
Regina slowly lifts her head, unseen by Emma, who is downright engrossed with the film and blinking away moisture in her eyes.
"You call yourself a free spirit, a 'wild thing,' and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bound in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself."
Regina's dumbfounded by what she's seeing. Either that or she's dreaming. Has the hardened and jaded Savior just been moved to tears by -- as Emma herself called it not two hours ago -- a 'girly-movie'? She props herself up on an elbow again, lifting her head fully off the blonde's shoulder.
"Emma..."
"I'm not crying," Emma snips at her.
Regina smiles, her tone indulgent. "I'd never accuse you of doing something so feminine."
Emma turns to glare, and she can see the moisture unmistakably. "Alright fine, so that part got to me." Looking down at her beer bottle, she peels away what's left of the label, and Regina wonders how long she'd been sitting there, just picking at it. Softly, she admits, "Maybe it hits a little close to home."
Regina's not sure what to say -- it's not often the Savior looks vulnerable, after all -- and instead she leans on her elbow again, still propped on her side. Her shoulder rests against Emma's once more and they turn to watch the movie.
It's pouring rain in New York City and Audrey Hepburn has gotten out of the taxi cab to look for her cat. She finds him with George Peppard and the music swells. A big, cinematic kiss ends the film as do the final strains of 'Moon River,' and then it fades out.
Regina's left wondering what to do, then. Should she tease Emma for liking the film? She's uncertain what frame of mind the blonde is in right now. She feels her turning to look at her, and she looks up, just slightly.
"I used to do a lot of running, you know," she says, quietly.
Regina pushes herself up again, angling to face Emma. Her elbow presses deep into the back of the couch and she tucks her legs up beside her, prompting her softly, "Go on."
She sighs. "My whole time growing up, I never belonged to anybody. I never stayed in one place. A few months with a foster family here," she tilts her head one way, and then the other, "a few years over there. I hated every minute of it. So I kept running. Even when I grew up, I ran. Ran all the way to Florida for awhile and wound up stealing cars, among other things, in Tallahassee."
Regina raises her eyebrows, a dozen comments cropping up about a car thief as her son's biological mother, but she keeps them to herself. Instead, she just listens.
And Emma tells her... well, not everything, she's certain, but it's a great deal of information. There's a yellow death-trap of a car and a fellow thief named Neal -- one that she hoped to make a life with before she was sent to jail and he abandoned her.
Regina swallows. "This Neal, he's... Henry's father?"
Emma nods. "Yeah."
She plays with something around her neck, and it takes Regina a moment to realize it's a pendant of a swan. Emma notices her stare and tells her it was something Neal had given to -- or, well, stolen for -- her. "He was my first love, y'know? And it was the first time I ever thought that maybe I could..." she shrugs, and looks down at her well-peeled beer bottle, "I dunno, quit running." When she looks up, her eyes are soft, and she asks even softer, "You ever feel like that about anyone?"
Regina nods, a lump already swelling in her throat. "Once," she tells her.
The look on Emma's face lets her know that the name 'Daniel' is on her mind. And Regina's never wanted to talk about this with anyone. When she brought it up with Emma the first time, she kicked herself for days, knowing that the blonde would needle her endlessly until she found out everything.
But surprisingly... she's done the opposite. It's been awhile now, and Emma has not bugged her or poked or prodded. When they'd been drunk together and she knew the blonde wanted to ask, she was prepared to tell her and it was Emma that stopped her.
"You want me to tell you about Daniel... don't you?"
"When you're up for it."
"Emma?" she calls out tentatively, and her hand reaches out of its own accord.
Emma catches it within her own, and her eyes shine with nothing but understanding as she says softly, almost encouragingly, "Yeah, Regina."
It's another first, certainly. And it's one that makes her stomach tumble... it almost makes her nauseous as she steels her courage, takes a breath and then tells her, "I'd like to tell you about Daniel now."
TBC