A/N: Here it is! My new AU fic. This is the idea which I mentioned towards the end of Dangerous Desires and was the second most popular (Troubled Teachers beat it, obviously). Speaking of which, the epilogue for that will be up shortly … when I've written it!

A few little things: firstly, this is set in the US once more. And yes, sometimes I'm sure British words will slip in and for that I am sorry(ish). Secondly, I've been to New York but only once so I'm going off my own experiences, popular culture references, and Google. Thirdly, I have never been homeless, before anyone asks. Nor have I been a lawyer. Any mistakes and inaccuracies are entirely my fault but I hope there won't be too many.

Trigger warning for mentions of rape in this chapter and future ones but the act itself will not be described in great detail. There will be discussions of what happens afterwards though.

Please let me know what you think either by reviewing here or tweeting me at SwanQueenUK.

She shivered and pulled the woollen blanket more firmly around her slender body. The fabric scratched her exposed neck but it was better than being chilled to the bone by the bitter January wind which was whistling through the tunnel. It was late. She wasn't quite sure what the time was but she knew he'd be there soon. Night had fallen hours before and the darkness was almost impenetrable. A glimmer from street lamps at either end cast long, orange-grey shadows near the entrances but in the middle, where she sat, it was almost black.

She had grown used to the dark long ago. It was simultaneously a place of safety and a place of danger. In the darkness she could remain hidden, away from judging, pitying eyes. She could curl up and try to sleep, although she rarely succeeded. Because the darkness also meant danger. Once, not long after she found herself on the streets, she had woken up to a faceless figure looming over her. She had screamed but his hand had clapped across her mouth before anyone heard her. She was lucky that night. He hadn't killed her once he had taken what he wanted. Since then, she rarely slept, especially if she was alone. She was always alone.

A rat scurried along the opposite wall, its claws scratching at the gravelly floor. She hated that sound. She heard it pause and then, unmistakably, the grind of teeth nibbling on something hard echoed off the concrete, magnified by the domed roof. If only it were that easy for her to find food. Her stomach grumbled. She hadn't eaten all day. Perhaps it wasn't too late to go to the diner, she thought. Maybe there'd be something left over which the friendly waitress might allow her to take. As she considered whether it was worth trying, she heard them. Footsteps.

Sighing, she ran her cold fingers through her hair. It needed a wash. Perhaps tonight the man would permit her to shower before she left the hotel room. He entered the tunnel just as she was struggling to her feet. He leaned against the wall and watched as she bundled her possessions up inside her blanket, secured it all together with a length of twine, and shoved it through the hole in the tunnel wall. Replacing the metal grate, she stood up and turned towards him. His black outline looked even larger than usual against the dim streetlights behind. He waited. Taking a deep breath, she began to walk, forcing herself to place one foot in front of the other. When she was less than two metres away from him, he turned and walked off into the park. She followed.

"I told you to send copies of that case file to Kathryn on Wednesday," Regina snapped into her cell. "Do it within the next hour or you'll be looking for a new job."

She ended the call and immediately dialled another number, glancing out the tinted window of her town car to gauge where they were. The traffic surrounding her was stationary. They had barely moved a block in the last ten minutes.

"Ruby, I'm so sorry," she said as soon as her friend answered the phone.

"No problem," came the cheery reply. "Henry's fine."

"I know but it's an inconvenience when you're working," Regina said. "I'm three blocks away but the traffic is a complete nightmare. Are you ok to hold on for another few minutes?"

"It'll be more than that if you're in the car," Ruby said. "They've closed the road outside Granny's. Burst water main or something. Everything is diverted which is probably why you're stuck. Either way you won't be driving up here."

"Damn," Regina muttered. "Ok, I'll be with you as soon as I can."

She hung up again and sighed in frustration. She could feel the good mood she had been in when she left her final meeting ebbing away as the engine whirred pointlessly. They were still sitting on the same patch of tarmac, surrounded by yellow cabs. As she briefly wondered why such a gaudy colour had been chosen in one of the most stylish cities in the world, she rummaged through her purse for her lipstick. Reapplying it in her compact, Regina pouted slightly and fluffed her fingers through her short hair before nodding her satisfaction at her appearance. No one would guess she was coming to the end of a sixty hour week.

"Graham, how much longer do you think we're going to be?" she asked her driver.

"Hard to say, Ma'am," came the British reply. "I fear a little while yet."

Regina looked out of the window through the fading afternoon light. They were less than twenty yards from the end of the block. She leaned forward and surveyed the choice of shoe she had made that morning. Not too high, she supposed.

"I'm going to walk ahead and relieve Ruby before the early dinner rush starts," she said, making up her mind. "Kindly pull onto 56th Street and then wait for me near Park Avenue. I shouldn't be long."

"Yes, Ma'am," Graham nodded.

Regina gathered her purse and opened the door. A motorbike skidded to a halt, millimetres from colliding with her legs as she stood up.

"Watch it!" called an angry voice from beneath a blacked out helmet.

Regina ignored him, slammed the car door, and weaved neatly through the stationary traffic until she reached the sidewalk. She walked briskly, dodging tourists and locals alike who had come to Fifth Avenue that afternoon. She had never understood the appeal herself and was immensely relieved when she turned onto 55th Street and the pedestrians depleted significantly. Her heels clicked rhythmically against the floor as she walked, her coat pulled tightly around her as a freezing headwind started up. She sometimes hated New York in winter. At least it wasn't snowing, then walking in her high shoes would have been out of the question.

The bell tinkled as she pushed the door to the diner open. Seconds later, a squeal of delight was heard and her son scampered towards her.

"Mama!" he cried, arms outstretched and a wide smile on his face.

"Hello little man," Regina said, bending down to sweep him into her arms and peppering his face with kisses.

"Stop it, Mama!" Henry giggled as Regina's fingers began to tickle his chubby stomach.

"Never," Regina replied, tickling harder.

"He just ate ice cream," Ruby advised from behind the counter where she was putting on another pot of coffee and watching mother and son.

Regina stopped at once, placing Henry gently on the floor and brushing his floppy brown hair from his hazel eyes.

"Ice cream, eh?" she said, a stern look on her face. "And what about your dinner, young man?"

"I'm still hungry," Henry insisted, reaching up for his mother's hand and leading her over to the booth he had clearly been occupying. The table was strewn with colouring pencils and sheets of paper, every one depicting a different version of Henry's favourite animal.

"Wow! I see you've been very busy," Regina said, picking up one of the pictures of a monkey eating what she believed was intended to be a banana (although it looked more like a bright yellow snake) and admiring it.

"You were late," Henry said simply, sliding into his seat next to his favourite soft toy monkey, who was named Marlo, and perusing his pencils before selecting a purple one and continuing his latest artwork: an orangutang swinging from a tree covered in multi-coloured fruit.

"Yes, I'm sorry about that, Henry," Regina said, sitting down opposite her son and trying to ignore the wave of guilt rising within her as she realised he had been waiting for her for over three hours. Regina rarely left her desk as early as she intended on Fridays, despite an agreement with her boss and co-workers that she would do so because of her young son. Ever since Henry had come into her life, she was supposed to finish the working week at midday each Friday. Glancing at the clock in the diner, her stomach twisted again when she realised it was almost five.

"It's ok," Henry said. "Did you win your work game?"

Regina smiled. "Yes, I did."

"Good," came the simple reply.

At four years old, Henry was too young to understand exactly what a corporate lawyer did but he had learned early on that his mother's mood depended on whether she 'won' or 'lost'. He also knew that whatever her work game entailed, it meant he spent a lot of time with his Auntie Ruby and he smiled up at the woman herself when she approached their table seconds later.

"How was your day?" Ruby asked, nudging Regina aside with her hip as she slid into the booth beside her best friend and placing a cup of coffee in front of her.

"Long," Regina said, stifling a yawn as she reached for the much needed caffeinated drink. Without it, she hadn't a hope of getting through the next few hours before Henry went to bed. "But it's the weekend now and I'm not thinking about anything work-related until Monday. Or maybe Sunday evening."

Ruby chuckled. "You work too hard."

"And you don't work hard enough," said Ruby's grandmother who was passing the table at that moment. "Table Seven needs refills. Stop gossiping. And hello Regina, dear."

Ruby rolled her eyes at Regina before she stood up, flouncing away towards the table of tourists and greeting them with an elaborate fake smile.

"Can we go home now, Mama?" Henry asked, finishing his picture with a flourish.

"Yes, we can," Regina nodded. "But we need to walk a little way to the car."

"Why? Where's Mr Graham?" Henry asked, collecting up his pencils and stuffing them into the case which lay empty on the table.

"Well, he couldn't drive up here because of all the water," Regina explained. "So he's waiting on the next street."

"The road looks like a river," Henry observed, looking out of the window to where a group of workers in waterproof overalls were standing around looking perplexed as to why the street was flooded.

"It does," Regina nodded. "But the sidewalk is dry so we won't get our feet wet."

"I like getting wet feet," Henry replied.

"Not when it's as cold as it is out there today. Your toes will turn into icicles."

Henry laughed. "No they won't. Don't be silly, Mama!"

Regina smiled and stood up. She gathered the papers together and slipped them carefully into her son's bag which was lying on the seat beside him. Henry handed her his pencil case and she put that inside too. Marlo followed. Together they got Henry's arms into his coat sleeves and buttoned up the front. Henry resisted stubbornly when Regina tried to put his knitted beanie on his head and eventually gave up, putting it in her pocket so she could whip it out easily in a few minutes when he realised his mistake.

"Say goodbye to Auntie Ruby," she said when they were ready to go at last, Henry's little backpack slotted neatly over his narrow shoulders.

"Bye, Auntie Ruby!" Henry called across the diner.

"Goodbye, Monkey-Boy," Ruby grinned back, waving as much as she could with a milkshake in either hand.

Regina waved too, mouthed 'thanks', and steered her son out of the diner and onto the street. They set off together, hand in hand. Regina strolled along slowly, allowing Henry more than enough time to admire the road river. At the end of the block, he requested his hat and Regina wordlessly placed it over his windswept hair, suppressing a smug smirk at how well she knew her son.

They crossed Park Avenue easily. Rush hour traffic was at a standstill and both were grateful when they reached the shelter of the eastern side of the street. Henry was chatting away as they walked, telling his mother all about what he and Marlo had done in playgroup that day and how Ruby had allowed him two cherries on his ice cream because of a special monkey drawing he had made just for her. As Regina was making a mental note to speak to her friend about how much sugar her son was eating, Henry tugged on her hand.

"Mama, she looks cold. Can we give her some money?"

"Who?" Regina asked, snapping her attention back to the dusky sidewalk.

It didn't take her long to realise who her son was talking about. Huddled against the stone wall, blankets tucked carefully beneath her, was a young woman. The top of her blonde head stuck out from the bundle, the hair falling in ragged tendrils over the dirty wool. She looked frozen, her chapped lips almost blue with cold. She was sat in silence, unmoving, seemingly staring at a spot on the sidewalk with rapt concentration. Or boredom. In front of her was a small, chipped bowl. A few quarters lay in the bottom of it.

Regina didn't usually give money to beggars. She thought it encouraged panhandling and the streets of New York were far too crowded with them already. But there was something about this woman which tugged at her heart. She looked so … pathetic. Regina felt awful for thinking of such a derogatory word but there was no other way to describe her. As she watched, a gust of wind blew some blonde locks of hair over her face, dislodging a corner of the blanket so it flapped for a moment before falling back into place. The woman didn't even react. She just sat there. Regina herself shivered at the rush of cold air, glad of her warm coat. And scarf. And hat. And gloves.

Reaching into her wallet, she pulled out a couple of dollars and handed them to her son. Henry let go of his mother's hand and took the notes. As they passed the woman, Henry bent down and placed the money into the bowl.

The woman jumped, startled by sudden appearance of a little face so close to her own. Henry squealed in alarm and tumbled backwards, his bottom landing heavily on the ground.

"Sorry!" the blonde said, struggling to get her arms out from beneath her blanket to help the child up.

"It's alright," Regina said smoothly, leaning down to pick up her son and dusting him off. Henry clung tightly to her hand, his eyes still wide with fear.

"Thank you," the beggar said, reaching out and taking the fluttering notes before they blew away, her thin arms retreating into the vague warmth of the blankets once more.

"You're welcome," Regina said, glancing back at the woman.

Her breath hitched. Staring up at her were two bright green eyes, gratitude and despair shining from them in equal measure. She faltered in her step for a moment, unable to tear her gaze away from the pale, grimy face. The skin was sallow, clinging to the high cheek bones, and there were dark circles under both her sunken eyes. Her lips were split and dry from the cold weather. Her neck was scrawny, the veins and muscles visible through the papery skin. Regina couldn't help the pitying look which flashed across her features before she schooled her face into a small smile. Henry's hand pulling her forward reminded her where she was and all at once Regina turned her head back the way they were going, marching quickly down the sidewalk with Henry hurrying to keep up beside her.

"Bloody hell," Ruby hissed as she stepped out into the dark alley behind the diner.

It was quite literally freezing outside, icicles forming on the edge of the dumpster as she lifted the lid and prepared to heave the refuse bag into it.

"Got anything to spare?"

Ruby looked around at the timid voice and smiled when she saw a blonde head poking out from behind the wall.

"Evening," she said, putting the bag back on the floor and wiping her hands on her jeans. "How are you?"

"Cold," came the simple reply as the young woman walked further into the alleyway. "And hungry."

"Right," Ruby nodded.

Their interactions always consisted of few words and Ruby said no more as she opened the bag and picked out a few of the bread rolls which Granny had told her to throw away. She handed them over at once before reaching back inside to find the bruised apples she knew were lurking near the top. The beggar stuffed the bread into her pockets and watched as the brunette ferreted around for her.

"Thank you," she said when Ruby handed over several red apples. They were browned in places but definitely edible.

"No problem," Ruby assured, tying the top of the bag closed again.

"Here." She thrust two crumpled dollar bills forwards, gesturing for Ruby to take them.

"Don't be silly," Ruby said. "This stuff is just going to go to waste anyway. Keep your money. Spend it on something warm."

"I'm not a charity case," the young woman said, a slight bite in her tone.

"I never said you were," Ruby placated. "But I'm not going to charge you for a few old apples and some stale bread."

"Can … can I get a coffee then?" the blonde asked.

"Um, sure," Ruby nodded. "Do you want to come inside? We're closed but you can sit down whilst I make it and warm up a little."

A hesitant nod was all Ruby needed. She smiled, tossed the rest of the garbage away and led the young woman back into the diner. Granny was in her office, doing the books, and didn't notice the homeless girl traipsing through to the front of the restaurant.

"Take a seat," Ruby said, ducking behind the counter and fiddling with the machines. "I assume you want decaf since it's so late?"

"No, proper coffee please," came the reply.

"Oh, ok," Ruby nodded, getting started on the drink.

The blonde had slid into a booth, sitting cautiously on the edge of the seat as if she was wary of dirtying the red faux-leather covers. She glanced around, taking in the dark diner before her eyes settled on watching Ruby work. The brunette turned around less than a minute later, a large takeaway cup held in her hand.

"Here," she said, placing it on the table in front of the blonde who immediately wrapped her hands around the warm container. The bare skin was scratched and dirty, fingernails chipped and poorly cared for. As Ruby watched, she took a sip of the hot liquid, barely suppressing a moan as the welcome heat hit her mouth.

"What's your name?" Ruby asked, sliding into the seat across from the woman. "I'm Ruby."

"I'm … I've got to go," the blonde said, standing up at once. "Thanks for this."

She tossed the two dollars onto the table and headed out towards the alley. Ruby picked up the money and followed her, intending to give it back, but the blonde didn't stop and by the time she had reached the outside, she had disappeared.

The park was quiet, as it always was so late at night. She chose the better lit route towards the tunnel, deciding she would rather be able to see potential threats than remain hidden from those potentially threatening her. She walked quickly, the apples and bread rolls making her pockets bulge and her stomach ache with hunger. A wild goose screeched overhead, making her jump. She was flightier than usual that day. Perhaps it was because the last time she had slept was seven nights ago. At least she was guaranteed some sleep later, she mused.

He was there when she arrived, leaning against the wall and fast asleep. She smiled as she entered the tunnel and walked over to the grate. Kneeling down, she removed the metal bars and pulled out her bundle of measly possessions. Two blue eyes watched her as she untied the twine, shook out the blanket and wrapped it around herself.

"Oh, you're awake," the blonde said, turning around and seeing the eyes glinting at her through the darkness.

"You woke me," the man replied.

There was a short laugh before the young woman settled herself on the ground. She pulled out the bread rolls and tossed two to the far side of the tunnel. They were both caught and one eagerly bitten into.

"Thanks," he said through a mouthful of much needed food.

"You're welcome," she smiled, taking a bite of her own roll as she did so. "You're staying with me tonight?"

"Yes," the man nodded.

"Good."

"Not been sleeping?" he asked.

"You know I haven't," she replied. "August, where were you?"

The man had reappeared in front of the blonde on Park Avenue earlier that afternoon but they hadn't had a chance to talk about his week-long absence. She had been stunned by his presence and anger had bubbled inside her. She had sent him away, telling him to meet her at their usual place later that night. She knew he'd come. He owed her an explanation, after all. She had spent the rest of the afternoon in a sort of daze, trying to work out why her friend had abandoned her. She was used to being abandoned but she had started to allow herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, August was different. It seemed she was wrong.

August sighed and wiped his face with the back of his hand. Crumbs fell from his straggly beard into his lap and he picked them up, popping them into his mouth.

"I … needed time," August replied eventually. "I'm sorry."

"Are you ok now?" she asked, her concern eclipsing her anger towards her friend when she registered his tired, pained tone.

"Better," August nodded. "Emma, I'm sorry I left you. I really am."

"I'm just glad you came back," Emma shrugged. "I'm used to being alone, August, but these past few months I'd gotten used to being with you. I don't want it to be just me again."

"I couldn't stay," August said. "I needed to get my shit together."

"And I couldn't have helped you?" Emma said, a little annoyed.

"No," August said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry Ems but you know when … when it happens, I have to be alone."

Emma slumped back against the wall of the tunnel and sighed. She did know. Not from first hand experience but from what August had told her. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder was different for every sufferer but as an army veteran, August needed to take himself away from people, away from a place where every noise, every movement became a threat. New York City transformed into a battleground, soldiers and attacks coming from every angle.

"Where did you go?" Emma asked.

"Connecticut."

"How?"

"Bus. I snuck into the cargo hold just before they began loading the luggage. Bloody hot down there I can tell you," August said, remembering the stifling heat from the engine as the road bumped beneath him.

"I'd rather that than freezing my tits off in the city," Emma chuckled. "I swear to God my butt was stuck to the sidewalk with cold this afternoon."

August laughed. "Well, at least it's warmer down here." He gestured to the tunnel the two of them had become accustomed to sleeping in.

"Yeah and now you're back I might actually be able to take advantage of that and get some sleep," Emma said.

"I'm sorry," August repeated. "Come here."

Emma did so, shuffling along the floor of the tunnel, dragging her blankets with her until she crawled beneath August's own nest. The smell had stopped bothering her long ago. Or perhaps she smelt just as bad. Either way, she didn't notice as she curled into his side and sighed deeply.

"I'm glad you're back," Emma said, reaching up and passing him an apple.

"I'm glad I'm back too," August said, placing a gentle kiss to the top of Emma's head before he began to eat again.

Emma did sleep that night. Or as much as she ever slept, at least. Half and hour here, an hour there, until the weak dawn light filtered down into the tunnel and the sound of early morning joggers reached her ears. Untangling herself from a still-sleeping August, Emma yawned and rubbed her eyes. The image from her latest dream remained, burned into her memory. A timid-looking boy, clutching tightly to his mother's slender hand, the two staring down at her for the briefest moment before they were gone, swept away along the New York streets.

A/N: thoughts?