(To Watch Trees) Smoulder and Burn

It had been just a week since you'd gone to see Jefferson and you are surprised to find that Emma has been home every night of the week. It was odd at first, you were not used to having her home anymore but you quickly got used to it.

Tonight is no different from the past week except for the fact that Henry is not there as a buffer. Things have been tense, because despite her recent change, you have not forgotten nor forgiven Emma. She may have been acting like the good little girlfriend but you aren't so convinced it'll last. You don't want to fall into this charade only for it to crumble somewhere down the path.

You watch as she collects your dinner plates and carries them into the kitchen, intent on washing them and putting them away. The attempt is half-hearted at best, something you know she's doing to escape the awkward and smouldering tension that surrounds you both. You follow her into the kitchen, arms crossed and leaning against the threshold, watching as she dumps the plates into the sink with a clang.

You want to admonish her for being so careless with the porcelain plates but you bite your tongue. You don't want to fight, at least not right now but you know the question you have to ask will inevitably lead to something; they always do. So instead you watch with barely concealed disdain as she tries to do the dishes, rolling your eyes you step forward into the kitchen, making your way over to the sink and Emma.

"Why are you doing that?" you ask, coming to stop beside her, looking at her lackluster dishwashing skills.

"Doing what?" she asks, glancing at you with a frown.

You sigh with frustration, "washing the dishes," you say, gesturing to the plates in the sink.

"I'm trying to help," she replies quietly, scrubbing at a plate a little too hard.

"Just stop," you all but hiss, moving a hand to still her own.

She does stop, suddenly, turning to look at you, a mix of frustration and confusion adorning her features. You don't look at her, instead you edge closer to the sink, picking up the dishcloth and wiping at the plate she'd previously been scrubbing at. She doesn't move out of your way, just turns so that the front of her body is facing your side, watching you with a frown.

"What?" you bite out, annoyed with how long she's spent staring at you now.

Emma just frowns harder, moving closer to you and you jerk back, something you are sure Emma would notice. You purse your lips and bite down on the inside of your cheeks, willing yourself not to sneer and completely push her away.

"What's wrong?" she asks and it takes all your willpower not to laugh in her face.

"Nothing dear," you answer tersely, wondering how she can be so dense.

"Don't lie to me Regina. I can tell when something's wrong," she says and you can't help but scoff.

"Oh you can, can you?" you reply sarcastically, turning to look at her with eyebrows raised in disbelief. You shake your head at the look she gives you, knowing that this will escalate into an argument soon if she keeps up being so dense. Your temper is short today and Emma's idiocy isn't helping.

Emma sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yeah, I can. So why don't you stop acting like a bitch and just tell me what your problem is," she growls exasperatedly and your eyes narrow at the name.

"You want to know what my problem is?" you practically spit at her, glaring at the blonde, "You. You are my problem," you tell her, smirking in satisfaction at the almost devastated look on her face.

"What?" she gasps after a moment but you're tired and you just can't be bothered right now to give her a credible answer. You shake your head, turning away from her and starting on your way out of the kitchen.

You are surprised when you feel a strong grip on your arm, pulling you back and turning you around. You see Emma's angry and confused face, and where usually you'd feel guilt; because that's how things work between you, you feel nothing. Instead you're glad she's finally showing some type of real emotion other than stifling fakeness of the past weeks.

"Let go of me," you command her. While you're glad, as sick as it is for the show of emotion, you're in no mood to actually fight with her. It's odd really, almost funny; you've been spoiling for a fight for weeks but when one finally presents itself to you, you aren't in the mood for it.

She steps right in to your personal space now and you try to move away, no longer comfortable being that physically close to her. "Not until you tell me what you're talking about," she says forcefully, eyes blazing.

"Emma," you say sternly, not liking the vicious grip she has on your arm or the way she seems to be losing control of her temper. "Let. Me. Go," you tell her clearly, worry bubbling up in your stomach. The feeling makes you uncomfortable but so does the way she's manhandling you right now.

"Tell me what you meant!" she pleads almost desperately, the almost wild look in her eyes making you fearful; not that you'd ever admit it out loud.

"You know exactly what I meant!" you tell her angrily, trying to cover up the fear twisting through your body.

"Fucking hell Regina," she sighs, pushing you roughly back against the bench, "Don't be so fucking cryptic. Just tell me straight!"

You flinch at the sharp pain to your back when you collide with the bench. You don't like how this is going down and you immediately move to leave the kitchen again. This isn't how you wanted anything to go tonight; in fact, you'd been prepared to just pretend like nothing was wrong. Except you'd gotten snappy with her and now things had escalated to this and all you knew was that you have to remove yourself before you did something you would regret.

"Don't you walk away from me!" Emma yells at you as you reach the doorway of your kitchen. You freeze for a moment, the words so reminiscent of your mothers that you don't know what to do. It apparently gives Emma enough time to maker her way over to you, grasping at your wrist tightly. Her emotions are apparently on high and as you try to push her away, the open palm of her hand connecting with your cheek stuns you.

Your head whips to the side and you stumble back, an arm flung out to steady you against the wall. You feel more than see Emma back away from you and you take a moment to breathe before turning back to look at her. You look up at her in shock, the pure expression of horror on her face having no affect on the anger and fear bubbling up in your stomach.

"Get out," you growl quietly, not quiet believing that she'd actually just hit you. You'd been rough with each other before but never, not when you'd ever been at your angriest had you even thought about hitting her. It's an action too deeply entrenched in your past, an action you're far too used to that you'd promised yourself never to do the same to anybody else.

"Regina," she practically cries, arms reached out in front of her as if she wants to hold you in her arms.

"Get out Emma," you ground out through your teeth, turning even further away from her.

You look at the blonde woman, the so called Saviour, frowning in disgust. How could this woman, who was so desperate and messed up, be the powerful Saviour capable of breaking your curse? You can't see it, not at all but then again, you've always known appearances can be deceiving. The way she is now though, you don't think she's got the strength to break your curse and you know you should be happy about that but it just makes you angrier at her.

"Regina please. God...I'm sorry! I didn't...I didn't mean to," she stumbles over her words but you're not having any of it.

"Get out of my house Emma," you tell her coldly, staring her dead in the eyes. She apparently must see how serious you are because she nods quickly, tears falling from her eyes as she makes her way passed you. You deliberately move right out of the way, making sure you're not in close proximity to her at all.

You watch her as she practically stumbles out the front door, slamming it closed behind her. You stand against the wall for several moments before hearing the tell-tale sounds of the engine of Emma's bug. As she drives away into the night you can't help but wonder what just happened and what you're going to tell Henry.

AN: I know, it's been a ridiculously long time but I legit just found this chapter on my iPad. Anyway, it's massively longer than any of the other chapters so far, so I hope that makes up for the long wait. At least a little.

Please review. :) LT.