All my love and gratitude to the wonderful mods who organized this year's SwanQueen Supernova, and a big thank you to my supernova partner Starchasm for the awesome artwork they made! As for everyone else; keep calm and SWEN on! Mwuah!

"Mommy?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Can we go to a restaurant tonight?"

Regina glances up from her book, peering over the rim of her reading glasses to where her six year old is sitting at the coffee table flipping through a picture book. His mop of dark hair is getting unruly, nearly covering his eyes and forcing him to toss his head to see her better, but he'd insisted he liked it and had put his little foot down every time she tried to convince him to let her cut it. Shaking the sleeve down from her wrist, she checks her watch and lifts a brow.

"I was going to get dinner started soon, but I suppose we can go out. What would you like?"

Grinning, Henry jumps up and grabs her cellphone from the table, bringing it to her and then climbing onto her lap. Regina grunts softly as he accidentally knees her in the stomach, marking her page and setting the book aside.

"Enchanted. Paige was telling me about it at school yesterday and I really wanna go!"

The name sounds vaguely familiar, but she can't place it. Regina is quick to search it up on her phone, checking the reviews first and foremost. The results are surprisingly good; hundreds of five-stars, raving reviews, a perturbing amount of hearts and smiley faces in the comments. Her eye catches many reiterations of the words fun, immersive, andmagical, which is kind of a strange descriptor for a restaurant. She taps the website link next, intent on glancing over the menu for herself, and is struck by an expertly designed homepage. It's clean and simplistic, with Enchanted done in elegant flowing font and a minimalist sidebar for the menu, location, and contact information.

At the top of the sidebar, the option says "Entry Rules."

"Rules?" she reads, already tapping it out of wary curiosity. Henry is nearly wiggling on her lap in his excitement, evidently privy to whatever rules this bizarre restaurant requires.

Welcome to Enchanted! In order for us to best immerse our guests in the world of the Enchanted Forest, we have a dress code policy enforced at the door. Costumes are welcome and very appreciated, but our minimum requirement is that guests wear simple clothing in natural/muted colors as to not break immersion. Plain tunics and simple costume pieces are available for guests to borrow during their time here. Feel free to ask any of our barmaids for assistance!

"Oh no," Regina groans, eyes squeezing shut as Henry bursts out laughing. She'd heard about this nonsense. Enchanted was still relatively new to the city, only having opened up just last year, but it had been making marks as both a solid restaurant and a must-have experience. Her best friend Kathryn had been in awe when thousands flocked to check it out, the reservation lists booked for months on end. She'd suggested trying it out with Regina, only for the brunette to scoff and insist that, as a renowned food critic, she was too good for such a ridiculous thing.

Now, however, with Henry giving her his megawatt grin and puppy dog eyes, it seems she's going to have to endure the indignity.

"Fine," she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as Henry lets out a whoop of excitement. "Go get dressed."

Her little boy all but throws himself off her lap and bolts off, thumping his way up the stairs despite her shouting out a warning not to run. Opening up her contacts list, she grudgingly calls up Kathryn.

"We're going out for dinner tonight," she says in lieu of a proper greeting, not even giving Kathryn a second to say hello. "Henry wants to go to Enchanted."

"Oh, now you're willing to go? But not when your best friend asks? Note to self: use Henry for blackmail from now on." There's an obvious teasing pout in Kathryn's voice. Regina rolls her eyes.

"Shut up and get over here, Midas. There's apparently a dress code—"

"Oh, I know," Kathryn says coyly. "Don't worry, I've got it handled. See you soon."

"How're we doing, Rubes?"

Emma's grinning as she enters the familiar entrance of the restaurant, happy as always to see Ruby there in full barmaid costume, her best friend and front-of-house manager. Ruby winks at her, but leans past Emma to wave up the next group waiting in line.

"We've seats ready for ye," she chirps, motioning towards another barmaid next to her who holds a handful of rolled parchment menus. "Ashley will show ye to yer table."

Ashley leads the group through a doorway covered by ragged strips of cloth, and Emma takes a moment to look around the waiting room at all the groups still waiting for tables. It's busy, and her chest swells with pride.

"Everything's good as always," Ruby says cheerfully as Emma leans against the wooden podium, keeping their voices down as to not break immersion for the guests. "No shortage of reservations for the week, so we've always got a lineup at peak hours. You heading up top, or you gonna play today?"

"When do I ever pass up a chance to look good in armour?" Emma teases, and Ruby shakes her head and snickers.

"Get in there, then. You're cramping my style."

She swats Emma's shoulder—were they not in a professional setting, Ruby would have most definitely aimed for her ass, so Emma counts herself lucky—and returns to checking over her wait list while Emma ducks through the curtain of rags and into the main room of the restaurant.

Flickering lanterns (LEDs to mimic fire, of course, because she's not an idiot) line the walls and support beams, giving the large interior a warm and cozy atmosphere. Dressed simply in the dark pants and beige blouse she'd arrived in, Emma heads down the center of the room along the not-quite-straight row between each table. The tables themselves are thick wood, purposely nicked and uneven, with wooden benches or stools all mismatched throughout. The place is packed already, guests excitedly chattering away at each table, their drinks in copper steins, their food on wooden plates. The band—or rather, the trio of singing musicians she'd convinced to dress up like bards—play by their usual spot near the fake hearth against one wall, singing tavern songs loudly and merrily and encouraging guests to join in. Servers dressed in all manner of occupation—from barmaids and bartenders to knights and jesters—weave expertly between tables, delivering food and drink and engaging the guests in roleplay conversation. Most all of them are aspiring actors, and they come and go often once they find real acting gigs elsewhere, easily replaced by the overflowing stack of resumes in Emma's office. She prides herself on giving many of them steady jobs until they move on to bigger and better things.

She stops to poke her head through the kitchen doorway—one hidden behind a wall to prevent guests from seeing into a very modern, top-of-the-line kitchen—and it takes her a moment to find her head chef. Eugenia, Ruby's grandmother and "Granny" to most, is rushing about, barking concise orders and multitasking like a typhoon, but she whips around with narrowed eyes as if sensing Emma's presence with her invisible third eye.

"Swan," she says, instantly brightening even as she continues tossing something in a pan over an open flame. "Let me guess; hungry?"

"You know me, Granny," Emma says with a grin. "Mind whipping me up something? I'll be down in costume in a bit."

"You got it."

Waving briefly at the rest of the kitchen staff, Emma heads back out into the main room, pausing by the small bar where Leroy handles drink orders. There's a good selection of beer and wine for adults, but also their own special "mead" for kids—which is really just non-alcoholic apple cider—that she promptly asks him for a mug of.

"May as well serve you milk," he teases, smirking as he pours her a mug from a container disguised to look like a barrel. She accepts it with a roll of her eyes, taking a quick sip of the cold, sweet juice.

"Laugh it up, Grumpy." She sticks her tongue out at him and takes her drink with her down the hallway, up a wooden staircase and into the office above. The office is spacious but cozy, themed like the restaurant below with a wall of hooks for various costumes and a row of lockers for employee use. Sectioned off is another office with a glass window, the desk stacked high with paperwork and finances, a brunette head ducked down and happily working away.

"Hey, Belle," Emma calls through the glass, and her friend looks up just long enough to beam and wave cheerfully at her arrival. Tossing her things behind her own desk in the corner of the main room, Emma uses the attached bathroom to change into her costume, and is soon clanking her way back down to the tavern in full fitted armour with a fake sword at her hip.

"Ah, the fair lady knight has arrived," Killian chuckles, slipping past her from out of the kitchen with more food to deliver.

"Rogers," she greets the costumed pirate with a grin, ducking into the kitchen and waving to Granny. A plate of food is thrust into her hand and she thanks her before heading back out, quickly looking over the place and spotting an empty seat at one of the occupied tables. Nodding her hellos to a few costumed servers that she passes, Emma gets to her chosen table and flashes them all a charming smile.

"Afternoon, milords, miladies," she says to a family of five; two parents, a teenager, and two young children. They all turn their full attention on her, in awe of her gleaming armour, and she puffs up her chest a little at their appraisal. "Would you mind terribly if I joined you for a meal?"

She's no aspiring actor like her many employees, but she enjoys play-acting with the guests, and it's always enjoyable to bring a smile to children's faces. The kids immediately squeal their agreements, and the parents nod permission, so Emma sits to eat with them and enthrall the children with her dramatic stories of knights and dragons and princesses.

"Absolutely not."

Regina looks horrified, to say the least, as Kathryn holds up a costume dress, the velvet a deep shade of scarlet and the low neckline encrusted with silver jewels. Kathryn is already decked out in a dark blue dress with billowing sleeves and gold trim, her hair intricately braided to look like a crown wrapping around her head.

"You have to follow the dress code, so you may as well wear a proper costume," Kathryn insists, shaking the scarlet dress towards Regina. The brunette's mouth is still agape.

"How did— where— why do you even have this? Where did you get costumes at the last minute?"

At that, Kathryn purses her lips. "Well..."

"Midas, I swear."

"Okay, so maybe I've been there a few times already and decided to start my own collection of costumes?"

Regina groans, a hand over her face. "Why?"

"There's a really cute knight there," Kathryn admits, giving a dreamy sigh at the thought of the handsome man in armour who had served her dinner three nights in a row, and Regina can't help but shoot her friend a look of disgust.

"I can't believe you fell for some gimmicky restaurant—"

"Shush," Kathryn says, as a little stampede of footsteps has Henry barrelling down the staircase towards them, his eyes bright with excitement as he chirps his hello to his favourite aunt Kathryn. He's in dark brown trousers and a beige button-up, and Kathryn immediately fawns over him.

"Oh, look at you! What a handsome little man," she chuckles. "I'll have to get something custom made for you too, so you can dress up like a real prince next time."

"Next time?" Regina grumbles, at the same time Henry points to the dress in Kathryn's arms and asks, "What's that?"

"It's a costume so that Mommy can dress up too," Kathryn stage-whispers, winking down at him. He immediately beams and looks to Regina.

"Oh! Put it on, Mommy!"

"You're the worst," Regina makes sure to hiss at Kathryn when the blonde shoves the dress into her arms, cackling victoriously as Regina stomps off to change.

The trip over is a bit of a long one, having hit the rush-hour home as they fight against traffic to get back into the heart of the city, but Kathryn assures Regina that she'd already pulled some strings and gotten them a reservation, so she's not too worried about cutting it close. Regardless, by the time they find parking a few blocks away and make the walk over, they're a few minutes late and Regina is red-faced with embarrassment, having been far too self-conscious from walking four city blocks in a wannabee-Guinevere costume.

"Relax, you look hot," Kathryn whispers, nudging her side as they amble into the front-of-house waiting room. Kathryn heads straight to the podium to speak with the waitress—no, the barmaid lounging there, and Regina is already looking around with disdain as Henry bounces excitedly at her side.

"Aye, Midas for three, was it? Ashley will take ye to yer table," the brunette barmaid says, motioning to another girl with scrolls in hand, and Regina purses her lips at the brunette's faked accent and the fact that her dyed red streak is coming undone from where it had been tucked under her brown hair. Already she's unimpressed, and though she knows the entire place is painted and made to look old and medieval without actually being old or dirty, she's still a little disgusted.

"Whoa," Henry murmurs, his eyes wide as saucers as they follow a blonde barmaid through a curtain of rags—seriously, why? —and come face to face with a large, loud, bustling tavern straight out of a Tolkien film.

I'm going to kill Kathryn, Regina thinks sourly to herself, as her supposed best friend makes for a perfect scapegoat in Henry's place. She hates this place and they haven't even been seated yet.

"Right this way." Ashley beckons for them to follow as she weaves through the busy room and sets a bundle of three scrolls down onto a clear table. Henry climbs up onto a wooden stool with enthusiasm, while Regina is the last to sit, eyeing her seat skeptically before perching awkwardly upon it.

"Yer server will be wi' ye shortly," Ashley says, flashing them all a smile before scampering off again. Her fake accent isn't nearly as awful as the front of house girl's, but it still grates on Regina's nerves. Her jaw is tight with annoyance at being exposed to this stupid place and only Henry's obvious delight at being here keeps her behaved.

"The veal is to die for," Kathryn offers, pushing a scroll towards Regina while unrolling her own. Regina warily opens hers to find a neatly hand-written menu upon the parchment in cursive. Pottage, veal, meat and cheese platters, charred fish, seafood platters and roasts and puddings. The menu items are all listed as basic fare you'd expect from the medieval time period, but underneath each item in smaller writing is a quick breakdown of ingredients, and it's surprisingly more lavish than Regina expected.

"Garlic, white wine, rosemary roast?" Regina murmurs, arching a brow.

"Like I said: to die for." Kathryn lets her scroll curl back up into its rolled form and scans the room, blue eyes bright and hopeful. Regina assumes she's searching for that knight she'd been gushing about and just sighs, considering the menu for what to order for Henry.

"What would you like to try, sweetheart?" she asks her little boy, smiling as she watches him clutch at his scroll and slowly sound out the words letter-by-letter. "How about the meat and cheese platter? It comes with some veggies you like."

He shrugs, more interested in reading out the words than actually considering what he wants to eat. "What's pot... pot-age?"

"Pottage. It's like a thick soup made with all sorts of ingredients. Back in the medieval days, it would be a giant pot of soup that boils all day while the cooks keep adding leftovers to it to fill it up." Thankfully there are actual listed ingredients, instead of it being a genuine pottage consisting of every type of food scrap the cooks could toss in as they worked.

Henry's eyes get big and he grins a gap-toothed grin. "I wanna try that!"

Their server greets them a moment later, a dark haired man in black leather and a coat, a pirate hat sitting crooked on his head and a cocky grin on his face. He speaks with a natural accent and has a metal hook dangling from his belt, leaving his hands free to scrawl their orders down on a bit of parchment with a fake quill pen.

"Know what ye'd like, ladies? Little lad?"

"Pottage!" Henry cheers.

"Pottage for him," Regina agrees, her voice brisk with the server, "and the veal for me."

"Veal for me as well," Kathryn says, smiling up sweetly at him. "Say, would you happen to know if Ser Frederick is here today?"

"Ah," he exclaims, eyes lighting up with delight. "You must be lady Kathryn. Ser Frederick speaks highly and often of you. Your beauty truly does surpass all else."

Kathryn titters and he grins. Regina rolls her eyes so hard it's a wonder they don't roll right out of her head.

"He's just stepped out for a spell but I'll let him know you're here, milady," the pirate says, winking playfully before swaggering off with their orders, whistling a cheerful tune as he goes. Regina levels her best friend with a hard stare.

"That was nauseating," she deadpans.

"Oh, loosen up, Regina! How often do you get to pretend to be in a fantasy world? Just enjoy it, hmm?"

Regina glances sideways to see Henry swinging his legs back and forth quite happily, his attention on the band of bards sitting by the hearth, singing a jaunty song as they pluck at their harps and play their flutes. Henry's head bobs off-tune to the music and is constantly on a swivel, taking in all the different costumed actors and the admittedly realistic decor. One server in a jester costume even turns around to stick his tongue out at them, causing Henry to burst out in giggles.

"This is ridiculous," Regina sighs, shaking her head, but her disdain for this bizarre restaurant endeavor is softened by her son's wholehearted joy. Still, Kathryn chuckles at the look of exasperation on her best friend's face when the quiet clanking of metal armour precedes a fully costumed knight sidling up to their table.

"Lady Kathryn," the man says, his smile gentle as he pulls his helm from his head and holds it under an arm, running a gloved hand through his mused blonde hair. He looks utterly infatuated, which is the only reason Regina doesn't outright accuse him of leading Kathryn on as some part of this ridiculous roleplaying game. Still, she imagines all the servers here are wannabe actors trying to pay their bills, so she silently vows to keep an eye on him until he proves his intentions to be genuine.

"Fred! Hi!" Kathryn lights up, momentarily forgetting to play along in her excitement at seeing the handsome man. "How are you?"

"Better, now that I am in your presence." He beams. "You've brought companions this evening. Hello, milady, milord," he offers, giving Regina and Henry a warm greeting. Regina nods and busies herself by examining more of the restaurant's large interior while Henry and Kathryn chat with the server. Eventually their food is brought out, their meals on wooden plates and Henry's pottage soup in a wooden bowl along with a loaf of bread speared on a knife, and Frederick politely excuses himself to continue serving and mingling while they eat.

"Can I have some bread please?" Henry asks, licking his lips as Regina proceeds to cut a thick slice of bread for him. She hands it over and moves the jagged knife out of his reach, smiling as he eagerly dunks it into his thick soup.

"Careful, honey, it's hot," she warns, tucking a cloth napkin into the front of his shirt before turning her attention to her own meal. She and Kathryn had both ordered the veal, and now she appraises her dish with the assessing eye of a food critic, even if she's not working right now.

"Gonna write up a review about this place?" Kathryn teases, already cutting into her meat as Regina spears a piece of asparagus.

"I'm sure CatCo would leap at the chance to get a review out of me regarding this spectacle," Regina snorts, waving a hand vaguely around the room. "No, I don't think I'll add this one to my roster. I doubt my readers would care for a review about a silly roleplay restaurant."

"Ah, you wound me, milady."

The voice comes from just behind her, along with the soft creaking of armour and a muffled chuckle from Kathryn. Stiffening at being eavesdropped upon, Regina turns with a scathing retort on her lips, only for it to die as she stares up at the greenest eyes she's ever seen peering down at her with unbridled amusement. The woman's lovely face is framed by a defined jawline and a mop of wild golden curls falling loose from a ponytail, and Regina can feel her mouth opening and closing uselessly as Kathryn's chuckle turns into a full blown laugh.

"Hello, Ser Swan," Kathryn greets, shooting Regina a sly and knowing look. Her friend very rarely meets someone she's attracted to but when she does, she becomes a complete and utter gay disaster. "Won't you join us?"

The lady knight smiles, inclining her head before easing down onto the only available stool next to Kathryn and across from Henry. The little boy nearly drops his last chunk of bread into his soup as his mouth opens into a big O.

"Wow," he says, eyes widening with wonder as he admires her gleaming armour. Her costume is clearly expensive. "I like your armour."

"Well thank you, milord," the blonde, Ser Swan, says with a playful wink to the young boy. Those beautiful green eyes then track back to Regina and the brunette finds herself blushing under her teasing gaze. "And who might you be, milady? I don't believe I've seen you in my establishment before."

Oh my god. She's the owner. I insulted her restaurant.

"I'm so sorry," Regina blurts out instead, ears turning red as Kathryn politely coughs into her napkin in an effort to hide her snickering. "I didn't mean—"

"Oh, you did," Ser Swan says with a laugh and a callous wave of her hand. "It's okay. I know the word roleplay has a dorky stigma to it. I'm trying to prove otherwise by making Enchanted as professional and genuine as I can. Have you tried the veal yet?"

She speaks fast and Regina blinks, her addled brain trying to catch up with the words coming from those pink lips. The knight sits tall, looking comfortable and natural in her fitted armour, and Regina can't help but wonder what she looks like out of it.

"I... No, not yet."

"Well go on, try a bite," Kathryn suggests at the same time Ser Swan nods and gestures at her plate. Awkward and put on the spot, Regina quickly cuts into her veal. The meat parts like warm butter beneath her knife and she hides her surprise, spearing up a piece and breathing in the heady and aromatic spices before placing it on her tongue. Green eyes are locked on her the entire time and Regina makes sure to chew as daintily as possible, equally stunned and delighted as those eyes flicker downwards when she licks her lips.

"Well? What say you, milady?" Ser Swan finally asks after a moment of quiet at their table, her voice a little lower, rougher. Regina swallows hard.

"Surprisingly good," she replies. Her voice is husky and Kathryn decides then and there that it's a good time to clear her throat and remind them that there are other people at the table.

"Anyway! Ser Swan, this is Regina and Henry. It's their first time here."

"A pleasure," the knight says, with a bright smile reserved for the little boy still openly gawking at her. "I hope you're enjoying your time here?"

"Yeah!" Henry cheers, noisily slurping his soup and spooning up chunks of carrot and potato even as his mother sends him a disapproving look. "I really like it here. It's so fun!"

"Does that mean you'll come more often?" Ser Swan's eyes flicker to Regina, one brow arching as she grins, and Regina wants to sink into the floor as Henry turns his pleading pout on her.

"Yeah, Mommy, can we come here more?"

"Of course, darling," she says, smiling for Henry as her young son beams up at her. He immediately starts blasting Ser Swan with questions and gives his mother a much needed break from the woman's intense gaze, though she cannot escape Kathryn's knowing smirk.

Stop it, Regina mouths.

You're so gay, Kathryn mouths back.

Intent on ignoring her friend, Regina digs back into her food, savouring the tender wine-cooked veal and perfectly braised vegetables. Henry's having the time of his life discussing the merits of having dragons as pets with the blonde knight and she's content to bury her embarrassment by eating.

Except every time she glances up, Ser Swan meets her gaze and smiles warmly, and she knows she's in trouble already.

Henry insists on going to Enchanted again.

Every. Single. Weekend.

And Regina's the best mom ever and thus pulls some strings to bring him to the always-booked restaurant every Saturday evening. It's not like she has ulterior motives in the form of a beautiful blonde in armour.

Nope. Not at all.

"You're practically salivating in anticipation," Kathryn notes one Saturday, deciding to join them even though she and Frederick have started dating in real life, and Regina shoots her friend a filthy look, one that Kathryn pointedly ignores with a smug look.

"I'm just saying. You should ask her out like I asked Fred out."

"And have her tell me she's straight? No thank you," Regina sniffs, too proud to admit that she's terrified of rejection. The only reason she'd even been with her last partner for any length of time was because Mal had asked her out first, and she'd been careful enough to keep their relationship far away from Henry, not wanting to get her son involved in case it didn't work out. And thank god for that, because Mal turned out to be a hot mess, nearly dragging Regina's life down with her until she finally kicked the woman to the curb for good. She can't imagine trying to bring anyone else into her personal life, nevertheless into Henry's.

"Sure, she's totally straight. Those bedroom eyes she keeps giving you are just platonic," Kathryn sasses, adjusting her hair in the foyer mirror, and turning with a smile when Henry reappears in his prince costume. She'd stolen the boy away for some fittings and not long after returned him to his mother with three entire medieval wardrobes, much to Regina's amusement.

"Not another word," Regina grumbles, herding her son and her snickering friend out the door. The now-familiar hostess usually running the front waiting room smiles easily at their arrival within the hour and escorts them to their reserved table herself, indulging in a short but friendly conversation with Henry before sauntering off, all hips and long legs. Regina normally pays Ruby no real attention, but tonight she watches the brunette bounce over to Ser Swan, leaning up against her side to whisper something in her ear, and she feels herself bristle with annoyance.

"Easy, tiger," Kathryn chuckles, following her best friend's gaze with amusement. "Ruby's like that with everyone. And I think she's dating Belle, who works in the office for Swan."

"How often do you come here?" Regina asks, skeptical. "How do you know all that?"

"Fred tells me things," Kathryn shrugs. "Besides, they're good people. The staff are like a family, and the servers work their asses off to pay bills and get noticed. You know agents like to dine here to scope out new talent? Fred said they had three employees put in their notices just last month because they got scouted for acting gigs."

Regina tilts her head, watching as Ruby flounces off and Ser Swan smiles and waves in their direction, though she's occupied serving a table. "How do they replace their employees so quickly?"

"This is like a hot spot for aspiring actors. It's not just an income; they treat them well, give them good exposure at a popular venue. Swan's desk is always overflowing with resumes. I hear she's friends with an acting coach and brings them in once in a while for any baby actors looking for advice."

"That's... really wonderful of her."

"She's definitely a giver," Kathryn says, smirking at the blush appearing on Regina's face when the brunette's thoughts turn inappropriate. "God, you're hopeless. I should just ask Swan for you."

"Ask me what?"

Ser Swan appears by their side, smiling her bright and clueless smile, and Regina sputters out a non-reply, the two quickly disappearing into their own little bubble as Kathryn sighs and Henry watches on in bemusement.

Enchanted is quiet once it's closed. With the doors firmly locked and the musicians gone, there's only the soft sound of crackling flames coming from the speakers hidden in the fake fireplace, the flickering LED lights bathing the room in a soft yellow-red glow as Emma gives the place a loving once-over. The cleaners have swept through and everything is ready for tomorrow, leaving behind only the lingering scent of lemon detergent.

Turning off the lanterns, hearth, and speaker system, she leaves only the main lights on, pokes her head into the kitchen to see the last of the kitchen staff tidying up, then heads up to the office to do some paperwork. Ruby and Killian are lingering at her desk, already changed out of their costumes, and they give her a weary look as she enters and starts taking off her armour.

"What's up?" she asks, quirking a brow as she stows away the metal pieces of her costume in a locker and reveals the sporty tights and tanktop underneath. Ruby prods at the restaurant landline on the desk while Killian bluntly announces,

"The bitch is back in town."

"The who?" Emma laughs, even as Ruby swats Killian's shoulder with a warning look.

"What he meant," Ruby sighs, "is that She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named left a voicemail on the restaurant's phone asking for you. Apparently she didn't get the memo when you changed your number."

Emma's smile falters, her lower lip pinching between her teeth as her bright expression turns into a mildly uncomfortable grimace.

"She's not Voldemort, you know," she tries to joke, but Ruby just frowns and Killian outright scowls.

"I'm deleting the voicemail," Ruby announces, lifting her hand towards the phone again, though she moves slowly, waiting for Emma's permission. When the blonde nods, she hits the delete button and clears the voicemail inbox, getting a cheery beep! out of the machine.

"Horcrux destroyed," Killian says, pleased. He straightens up and pats Emma's shoulder on his way past her towards the door. "See you all tomorrow. Night, loves!"

"Goodnight, Killian," the girls echo, waiting until he's gone before Ruby gives Emma a more searching look.

"You okay, Swan?"

"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Closing her locker, Emma pulls a big comfy hoodie on over her tank top and drops down into her chair, rolling behind her desk and booting up her work computer. Ruby remains perched on the edge of the desk, twisting to give her a squinty look.

"Hey, don't pretend I wasn't the one there to pick you up after she left you in pieces. I know how she messed you up."

"Breakups can be messy," Emma says distractedly, clicking through her emails and avoiding eye contact. Ruby scoffs.

"Moving halfway across the world and cheating on you with some Brazilian model isn't messy, it's cruel."

Sighing, Emma turns away from the computer screen to give her best friend a tired look. She knows Ruby means well, but she doesn't feel like talking about it. Bad enough her ex is apparently in town and left a message on her work phone, seeking her out for who knows what. She doesn't need to discuss how she "feels about it" too.

"I don't need a therapist, Rubes. What I need is a nice bubble bath and a beer when I get home. And maybe a sign out front that says she's banned from my restaurant."

"That can be arranged."

"I was joking." Emma frowns, relieved when she sees Belle emerging from her office with her bag and coat in hand. "Oh good. Take your girlfriend home, Belle. She's driving me nuts."

"Must you antagonize her?" Belle sighs, fondly swatting Ruby on the ass cheek. The taller brunette snags her coat from a hook on the wall and pouts, petulant.

"I'm just trying to help! Emma is a cinnamon roll who needs to be protected at all costs!"

"Out, Ruby Lucas," Emma deadpans, pointing at the door, though her lip twitches with amusement at her best friend's humorous defence of her. With a dramatic roll of her eyes and her tongue sticking out, Ruby scampers out of the office, Belle following with a quick goodbye wave. Listening to their footsteps recede down the stairs, Emma breathes out noisily, glad to finally have some peace and quiet to herself. She still has some paperwork to look over and Belle had left a stack of documents on her desk that need her signature.

She's maybe halfway through it all when her phone buzzes. Glancing blearily at the time on the computer screen, she frowns. Who would be texting her at midnight?

[Unknown Number]: You're a hard girl to get a hold of, Em. I understand if you're still mad at me, but I'm back in town and I'd really like to talk. I owe you an apology. Please?

She immediately moves to delete it, but her thumb hovers over the button and hesitates, frozen in indecision. Ruby would say it was an easy choice. It should be an easy choice. But despite having lost all love for her ex, Emma finds herself craving an apology. Craving answers.

Why would you cheat on me? What did I do wrong? Why wasn't I good enough for you?

Her thumb drifts towards the reply button.

How could you treat me like that? How could you throw me away?

Shaking her head and mentally scolding herself for her momentary weakness, Emma taps the delete button before she can change her mind.