Chapter 1

"Buying festival candles would do a lot for your reputation, Regina. You never have before, people will take it as a sign you've changed. Also, look - apple flavor!"

Regina slammed the door in Snow's face.

A distant throbbing announced itself behind Regina's temples. Chances were promising that it would develop into a full blown migraine if Regina's evening turned out anything like the rest of this day had been.

For weeks since their return from Neverland, Snow White had been unusually silent in regards to Regina's reformation. Over the last month her little family unit of two had settled into a sort of routine.

Emma wasn't greedy with Henry's time and they had quickly come to a reasonable agreement on his care. Regina couldn't know for sure how a non-nincompoop could have been spawned from the royal jackasses, but she had an inkling that being sent to another dimension in a cupboard had something to do with it.

Regina had been sharing her son's time with Emma Swan without the Charmings' ignorant interference and for a while... it had been glorious.

The best day she'd had in years had been one memorable afternoon at Henry's tee-ball game which herself and Miss Swan had hesitantly agreed to attend together. They hadn't done much, merely sat stonily beside each other and cheered whenever Henry looked their way, however their son had been in a daze.

"It's so awesome that you're both here," he had said during a pause in the game, a grin permanently plastered to his face. "Seriously!"

It wasn't the most happy existence, but it was a step up from pitchforks and torches. She still found herself on the receiving end of glares and dark mutterings, that was true, but it was to be expected as the natural order of things. They'd ruined her life, she'd ruined theirs, and so on. And Henry... Henry was happy.

She had thus far resisted the temptation to blast them to smithereens. When she dropped Henry off at school, she gritted her teeth as other parents pointed her out as a real life example of stranger danger. When she tried to pay at the register for a new comic book and the cashier pretended not to see her, she simply left her money on the counter instead of turning him into a frog. The things I do for you, my sweet boy, she would think to herself. Regina was a god damned martyr. Henry remained happy.

All happy things in Regina's life had to come to an end, however. It was a lesson she had learned time and time again ad infinitum.

The stalemate had fallen apart when Snow had started acting nicely.

Nauseatingly nice. At first when the dinner party invitations and baked goods deliveries and sickeningly sweet smiles began, Regina had assumed it was polite hate. An iron wall of sarcasm and ice-cold cordiality had always been a go-to for Regina, so it took her by surprise when she realized that Snow wasn't merely exploring new ways to demonstrate her vitriol.

It was good mornings and quirky waves from across the street. It was standing up for Regina in town hall meetings and giving pointed looks to anyone who spoke badly about the former Queen. It was less Snow White and more Mary Margaret. It made Regina want to vomit.

Regina wasn't buying what Snow was selling. Specifically, those stupid festival candles.

She slid the chain lock across the door and twisted the bolt in place with a sigh.

Snow's muffled voice filtered through the door. "I know you want to make an effort, Regina. One candle. For Henry."

"Ugh," Regina said and padded upstairs to bed.

No matter that it was six o'clock in the evening. Henry was with his birth mother tonight and she'd scrubbed the house a dozen times over since her return.

If she stayed awake too long without a distraction, she would find herself in a chilly room, holding a chilly body with Rumpelstiltskin bleeding in the corner.

"Mother? Mother? What's wrong?"

"This," Cora said, smiling like it explained everything. It explained nothing. "This would have been enough."

"Mother?"

"You. You would have been enough."

"Mother? What's going on?"

Rumpelstiltskin wasn't dying in the corner anymore. He was leaning on his cane, lips pressed in a single firm line. Regina had never felt so cold.

"Mother?" But it was just a body. The smiling woman was an unsmiling corpse.

Regina couldn't breathe, she couldn't see, and she was so, so cold. "Don't leave me. Please."

She rocked and wept and mother didn't move.

The curtains in her bedroom were thrown wide open. Daylight still burned through the glass. She remembered when she'd tugged them open this morning, hating herself for not wanting to leave her bed.

Snow was walking uptown, shuffling slowly with her box of candles. The woman's shoulders were hunched.

Regina pulled the curtains shut and sighed in relief at the near-total darkness she was left with.

Regina shrugged off her evening wear and slipped out of her flats, tucking them neatly in their shoe rack while imagining how satisfying it would feel to slap Snow White in the face with one. She envisioned Snow's round cheeks reddening as the twit reeled in shock. Then Regina would resurrect Snow White's mother from the grave and run her over with the Mercedes.

She tucked her bare feet into silky sheets, shivering at the chill that ran up her thighs and tingled the tiny hairs on her arms. Regina exhaled at the coldness, closed her eyes and bid the day adieu.

Her cellphone buzzed on the nightstand. She glared at it in the dark. The screen was illuminated to indicate a text message from an unrecognized number. If Regina weren't a mother she would have gladly buried her head under the pillow. Instead she groaned and rolled next to her nightstand.

having fam brkfst grannys tomorrow if you want to come

Unrecognized number her ass – she didn't need to recognize it. "Snow White," Regina hissed and whipped the phone across the room with a wail. It banged the back of her closet, tumbling into her shoe rack with a metallic clang.

Family breakfast? Regina would rather set her mansion ablaze and roast marshmallows in the flames.

At least in Neverland Snow had never put up an act. Whining and distrust from Snow was honest at the very least. Happy-go-lucky friendship Snow was agony with a pixie cut and a smile.

Vengeance was Regina's air. She'd suffocated for it as a child, gorged on it as a young woman and finely dined on it in Storybrooke. Only revenge wasn't so easy anymore. Regina was forced to resist temptation for Henry's sake – the only person who had ever needed her. He needed stability and a mother and Regina would strive to provide the best environment for him to grow up in. If that meant not physically strangling the life out of dumb and dumber, so be it. She could make that sacrifice.

Regina's helplessness, though – that was what made this situation disgraceful. Snow knew she could do as she whimmed with the woman whose mother she'd murdered and she had chosen to rub it in Regina's face. Snow might as well have been pretending it never happened, and what was worse – Snow White had the gall to think that Regina would go along with it.

Regina may have only had a true mother – a mother with a heart – for ten seconds, but those seconds had been bright and full of wonder.

It was a disgrace to Cora's memory. It was shitting all over the miraculous ten seconds when Regina had felt what it was like to have a mother with a heart – one who smiled and loved her daughter, one who thought her daughter was enough.

That was perfectly fine. Regina would find a way to fix her attitude. Not all vengeance was blood and tragedy. She needed to get her creative juices back in order. Regina decided to sleep on it.

Regina re-bundled herself in the comforter and closed her eyes.

Her skin pricked into goosebumps – she wasn't in the dark. She was in the chilly room again.

A body was in her arms with a slack jaw and glassy expression.

Her eyes snapped open. She picked at the edge of her bed dressing and pinched herself to stay awake. She pinched herself the rest of the night.

Once Upon a Time

The next morning Regina discovered an apple-scented candle on her doorstep. There was a card attached. Regina didn't read it. She threw it at the wall and set it on fire.

Twenty minutes later, a freshly-dressed Regina entered Granny's and – upon confirming that Henry was not missing school for the so-called "family breakfast" – swanned past the Charmings' table with her head held high. She was sure she caught Snow waving like a hyper chipmunk out of the corner of her eye. Regina ignored her and slid into a booth on the opposite side of the diner.

Over eggs and coffee Regina spent the rest of her breakfast glaring over the top of her newspaper. The lovebirds held hands under the table the entire time. Regina drained three coffees in an effort to zap her nerves to life after a sleepless night. Snow White could take the blame for that too.

Regina spent so much time on the happy couple that she didn't focus on Charming Junior until she was ready to leave. Regina was by the counter pulling out bills to pay the check when her ears pricked at the sound of her own name.

"...rather Regina than another disaster."

"Emma, you know how she can be," Snow protested. "I know she's trying to improve but she's unpredictable, you know that."

"At this point my options are her and someone colloquially known as 'the dark one.' Call me crazy but I think it's worth a shot."

"Maybe you can learn to control it on your own," David interjected with a shrug. "I mean you haven't blown anything up yet. That's a good sign, right?"

"Not yet," Emma intoned, glancing askance at Regina's (now empty) table.

Regina looked quickly away and adopted an uninterested expression.

"Perhaps I'm not giving Regina enough credit," Snow began thoughtfully. "It could be good for her. She could use a project, a chance to show us she's reforming. And it would keep her mind busy."

Regina groaned internally. Someone put me out of my misery. Anyone. Regina could feel her peppy aura pulsing from here. Hate boiled in the pit of her stomach. She strutted out of the diner and let the door slam behind her.

Brisk morning air poured deep into her lungs. In and out. In and out. Regina counted up to ten and then counted back to one. The hot bubbling hate in her stomach dropped to a simmer. It would return with bloody vengeance but for now Regina was in control.

The madness had to stop. Regina was trying, truly she was. Saint Mary Margaret, however, was making it impossible. Regina wouldn't forgive that monster if it was the last thing she did. She couldn't – even if she wanted to, which she most certainly did not.

"You would have been enough..."

She was known as the Evil Queen. Surely she could scheme her way into making Snow White leave her the hell alone without losing Henry simultaneously. That was the trouble though, wasn't it? Her son wanted – no, needed her to be good.

Regina slid into the driver's seat of her Mercedes and twisted the key. The engine purred to life.

She exhaled a calming breath, letting her forehead rest on the steering wheel. "I cannot possibly be considering..." But she was. She was actually, actively brainstorming how to turn Snow White against her. Was this not why her life with Henry was a train wreck? Because she could not let sleeping dogs lie? Because she was never satisfied?

Regina decided to consider it – hypothetically. If she considered it hypothetically, surely would become obvious that re-igniting the feud between them would be the worst possible scenario.

Suppose I strangle one of her stupid little friends, she thought as she adjusted the air conditioning. Murdering someone she loved was the most immediate solution, which would be easy since Snow loved almost everyone. Henry wouldn't like murder, obviously. It was out of the question. Regina was only considering the option from wishful thinking, really.

Arson was a bloodless option and hard to prove, but Henry would suspect her immediately if Snow's tiny apartment went up in a blaze of satisfying glory. Regina's love of fire as a destructive force was too well known.

The jealousy factor was tried and true in most cases, Regina thought, now fully getting into the spirit of things – but true love was a bitch. Not that she could stomach the idea of seducing the goodie-two-shoes prince in any case, and neither would Henry look too kindly on that notion either.

Was there anything that her son would approve of that Snow would hate? That was besides allowing him to stay up late and eat junk food. That was not happening any time this century.

Good was hard.

Tap-tap-tap.

Regina startled. Emma Swan grimaced at her through the driver's side window, making a rolling motion with her hand. Regina placed one polished fingernail on the switch with a sigh.

The moment the glass descended Regina cut her off. "If this is about magic lessons, you should be asking the Blue Fairy."

"Blue Fairy?" Emma's eyebrows shoot up. "Yeah, I thought you overheard some of our conversation. Seriously? But I thought all she knew was fairy stuff."

How Regina hated explaining herself.

"She may not have much experience with human magic, but she's surely had to learn since she's been here. Don't ask me. It's for the best to have as much space between your mother and I as possible. Especially lately."

"Yeah." Emma tugged distractedly on the front of her leather jacket, darting a glance back at the diner. "I really don't get why that's happening. I'm sorry."

Regina leaned out the window to follow her gaze. David and Snow were parked down the street in the former's beat-up truck. Snow was biting her lip as she studied their conversation from a distance. Regina could taste the anxiety rolling from the truck, bitter on the tip of her tongue.

"I don't want my daughter around a murderer who is infamous for hurting our family."

"It's so awesome that you're both here!"

"You would have been enough..."

Regina was handling this all wrong.

A pathway connected in her brain with a satisfying jolt. She nearly moaned when she felt it.

Regina had felt it dozens of times before, but always as the Evil Queen. It had meant the crushing of her enemies.

It was the pool of boiling hate in her stomach emanating to warm her from her cheeks to her curling toes.

"Hey, I don't suppose you have any tips for -"

"Get in the car," Regina breathed. Her eyes didn't leave David's truck for a millisecond.

Emma stuffed her hands into her pockets uncertainly.

Regina did her best to project an aura of innocence. She patted the passenger's seat in what she hoped was a non-predatory manner. Snow's mouth moued in suspicion as Emma rounded the front of the car.

"Hey," Emma said as she pulled the door shut. "So."

Regina decided on the spot that Emma was a woman who would appreciate a direct approach. "Miss Swan, what are you doing Friday night?"

"Uh, nothing? Probably?"

"I would like to invite you to dinner. Friday, seven o'clock. Say yes."

Emma's eyebrows shot up. Regina smiled winningly.

"Because...?" Emma trailed off.

"I would like to pursue a relationship," Regina finished for her.

Emma pursed her lips. She glanced around the interior of the car like it was hiding something from her. "You mean... romantically?"

"Hypothetically. For now let's go with a series of dates and work from there, Miss Swan. Emma."

Emma was staring. Regina tried another wide smile. The only effect it had, if anything, was to make Emma press her back into the door.

What did these goody types require? A song and dance?

"I, uh... wow." Emma shook her head, making Regina's eyes narrow. "I... thank you, for thinking of me, but –"

She could see the denial railing towards her like a freight train. "Give me one good reason why not. Dinner with me. Friday." She wouldn't say please. Never.

Emma rubbed the front of her jeans. "I just don't think it's a good idea."

Regina's smile threatened to crack. "You and I make a good team –"

"Come on Regina, don't make me say it." Emma's hand curled around the door release. "I'm gonna go."

"Say what exactly?" Regina practically hissed. The temperature of the car plummeted to subzero.

Emma fell silent for a long moment. The engine thrummed and a distant store bell clanged as a gaggle of citizens entered Granny's. "This town has spent years telling me you're out to kill me." She chewed her lip, watching as more people funneled out of the restaurant. The people were carrying take-away boxes and laughing. "I know it's not true – anymore – but... I mean, if you think I'm going to go along with one of your plots– "

"How dare you?" Regina's eyes flashed as she lied through her teeth. "Desiring human connection is not a plot. I can't ask you to dinner? Is that so wrong?"

Emma stared her down. "No, I just know bullshit when I see it."

"Get out of my car," Regina growled.

"I don't mean – you shouldn't –"

"Get. Out."

"Fine. Have it your way." Emma jumped out and slammed the door, then flipped the bird at her through the window.

Regina's chest heaved as Emma's reflection in the rearview mirror stomped to her yellow bug.

Never mind that she had just been called out on falling back on her usual devices. She was disappointed at her initial failure but that was fine. Just fine. Regina knew how the game worked.

She threw her car into reverse. Her veins surged with anger at the rejection. She felt challenged. She felt alive.

Once Upon a Time

Regina guided the eyeliner pencil down in a final sweep. She gave one last glance at the mirror and nodded to herself in approval. Just enough make-up to keep the smoky eye effect without seeming like she was actually wearing make-up.

Her cardigan, trousers and loose hair combination ingeniously blended classy royalty with down-to-earth mother. Perfect.

She practiced her 'good' smile, channeling the impulse that came naturally when she was around Henry. The resulting display of teeth rang false. Perhaps she would limit her smiles around Emma. Emma was a lie detector on steroids, after all.

Was Regina fooling herself? Or worse, making a fool of herself by pursuing Emma Swan only to be rejected over and over? If Snow White heard about the rejection, she would pity her more and Regina would tear her own hair out.

Regina grabbed a pen and notepad. She wrote Things in Common with Miss Swan at the top. She easily filled number one on the list: Henry. She paused at number two. She hesitated to put magic – Emma seemed more burdened by magic than invested in it. Still, it was something in common. She filled it in.

Regina stood barefoot in her bathroom for twenty minutes thinking of number three. She couldn't come up with anything. She tossed down the pen. To hell with it. Two was enough.

Regina made it halfway down the staircase before the expected rapping on her door. Her son's muffled voice made an indistinct complaint before the door swung open of its own accord.

"Mom!" Two sneakers flung one-by-one into a pile of boys' shoes. An overstuffed backpack followed them. "What's for dinner?"

"Good evening to you too, Henry. Good evening, Miss Swan."

Emma held back at the welcome mat and shoved her hands in her pockets. "Hey, Regina. See you later, kid."

"Bye mom." Henry waved at Emma. He was darting into the kitchen before Regina could blink. Emma managed a courtesy nod to Regina without making eye contact.

"Miss Swan, don't leave just yet. I would like to apologize for my behavior this morning."

"Uh, yeah?" Emma scrutinized her. Regina resisted the instinct to shift her pose into something more provocative. Tact was the order of the day and Regina had been raised with it in spades. It was one of the few gifts she could thank her mother for.

"Thanks," Emma said eventually, apparently deeming Regina appropriately contrite. "Apology accepted then. I'm sorry too for what it's worth. I could have been less, uh..." Her lips twisted. "Catty?"

"Insolent?" Regina said at the same time.

Regina scolded herself, immediately detecting the bitterness that had seeped through her tone of voice. You're remorseful, remember, you idiot? Not hostile. Follow the plan.

Emma's hands slipped out of their hiding place in her jeans pockets, like she had been waiting for Regina to slip in order to relax. Emma exhaled slowly, slouching against the doorframe. "Yeah, something like that," she said with a halfhearted smile.

"Well don't be sorry, dear," Regina waved it off as if it were of little consequence, "you were right all along, weren't you? I was doing a bit of plotting, I suppose, although not as drastic as you likely thought it was."

Emma did a quick Henry proximity check. The television had been turned on and was leaking sound from the sitting room. "What sort of plotting are we talking about here?"

"The type where I date you and rub it in Snow White's face," Regina said. "Where she stops giving me that smug smile every time she looks in my direction. And there are other benefits. Admittedly you're nice to look at, and you're Henry's birth mother and he could do with seeing us getting along. I respect you as a person...mostly. All these factors just so happen to make you wildly convenient."

"Wildly..." Emma trailed off, eyebrows smushing together. Her eyebrows were quite lovely when she wasn't glaring judgingly at other people. Very sharp-looking, Regina decided.

Regina thought of Henry's joy at the tee-ball game they had both attended. Even if it were only one date, surely their ability to get along would improve. The chance to tongue Snow White's daughter in front of her was also fiercely appealing.

"Therefore I would still like to invite you to dinner on Friday night," Regina concluded. "I remember you mentioning wanting a magic tutor, I can help with that. It all works out."

"That's very, um, logical of you." Emma bit her lip. "Serious?"

Regina didn't know whether to be surprised or offended. She settled on both. "Yes. Of course I'm serious."

Emma shook her head like she was trying to shake something out of it. "It's just, I mean you make it sound like a business transaction."

"Because that's what it is," said Regina as if she were explaining it to a child. Patience was a virtue after all. "We both exchange services in order to get something we want."

Emma's eyes narrowed like a hawk's and Regina suddenly felt like she had said exactly the wrong thing.

"News flash, Regina. I can't believe I need to say this, but I don't go out with people because I want them to teach me magic, or fix my car, or perform any other random task I need done. Actually, I'm pretty offended by it."

Regina held back a scathing retort as Emma bit her bottom lip.

"I see," she said through gritted teeth. "Of course we can break off our engagement once Snow White has been sufficiently angered if it so pleases you."

Regina wasn't being exactly honest, but perhaps the guarantee of a way out would satisfy Emma's anxieties.

"Engagement?"

"I meant relationship," Regina corrected hastily, cursing her old-fashioned vocabulary. "Miss Swan? What's wrong?"

Emma was doubled over, clutching her stomach. "I'm going to be sick."

An invisible pulse rippled the curtains, fluttered Regina's hair. Regina's skin pricked up in a thousand tiny shivers. Electric pulses were skittering through every nerve in her body. Her pulse accelerated at the unmistakable surge of raw power.

Magic. It was overflowing.

Regina lurched forward just as Emma dropped, catching her under the arms with a huff.

"Sit down, slowly, slowly," Regina said as she guided Emma to the floor. Emma gave a pained whimper. She curled into a ball the second she hit the carpet. Regina shoved Henry's shoes out of the way in order to sit beside her. "Tell me exactly what you're feeling right now."

"Like a forty watt light bulb plugged into a million watt socket. Fuck! This keeps happening."

Regina pressed the back of her hand onto Emma's forehead. The skin was burning. She grabbed Emma's wrist – Emma tugged it away.

"Miss Swan," Regina said as she grabbed it again. "Hold still."

"Does it look like I'm moving to you?" Emma said through gritted teeth.

Regina aligned their forearms wrist to wrist, palm to palm. Their fingers interlocked, Emma squeezing like she was dangling off a cliff. Regina tried to ignore the numbness spreading through her fingertips from the lack of blood. "I'll help regulate the flow of magic into your body. Take deep breathes. And don't pull your arm away from mine."

"Deep breathes. Right." Emma inhaled and exhaled forcefully.

Regina hissed as she allowed the dam to break, opening herself to the rush of unadulterated power flooding from Emma's body.

Emma's magic seethed and scorched through Regina's veins, frothing from Emma like a pot left to boil over. Her eyes fluttered but she fought to keep them open. It hurt, yes – it scalded Regina's insides – yet as with all magic, the power intoxicated her.

Emma's breathing evened. Her death grip relaxed. Blood returned to the tips of Regina's fingers.

"Better?" Regina raised an eyebrow.

"Some, yeah," Emma said. "What are you doing?"

"Draining your magic. You're unsafe right now. You should have found someone much earlier if it was getting this bad."

"Had I known it was an option, believe me, I would have."

"We're like symbiotes," Regina explained, quite helpfully she thought. "Look at us. Working together in cohesion. Mutually beneficial."

"Is that the only reason you're helping me?" Emma bit her lower lip. "Look, I know for a fact this will go away on its own if I let it run its course."

"You could, but it wouldn't be safe. No, please." Regina held tight to Emma as she tried to wrench her wrist away. "What does it take? There must be something," Regina pressed. "Time with Henry? That wouldn't be a problem."

"I don't need your scheme, Regina, and neither do you if we're being honest. And it doesn't matter anyway," Emma stressed, "because – no, I don't need a 'because,' because the reasons should be obvious. I'm not getting into a freaky revenge relationship with you. I'm not faking a relationship with you. Thank you for the application, I will keep it on file."

"You could move into the mansion. Bring Henry with you." Regina took care to make it sound like she were giving something up and absolutely not benefitting her plans further.

Emma's head lolled onto the wall, eyes screwing shut. "Alright, you are seriously missing the point."

Regina's facade of civility broke.

"No, I think I understand just fine. Love is the word you're dancing around, am I correct in assuming that? True love," Regina spat out those two disgusting words. "That's what you're looking for?"

Emma couldn't have looked more confused had she tried. "Yeah, so? My parents have it, half of everyone around here does."

"I am being honest and upfront, which you should appreciate: I am not capable of that," she said flatly. "In all likelihood, neither are you. Not in this world. The fairy tale you're holding out for is simply not possible. You grew up in a land without magic, and that includes true love. Your parents screwed you out of that when they sent you into another dimension in a cabinet, and as for mine, your mother gave a death sentence the only person who ever loved me like that, not to – not to mention my–"

Sweet, sweet Daniel and now her sweet, ten second mother. Thoughts of Cora made Regina's rant tumble to a halt.

Emma's mouth tightened. She opened her eyes to meet Regina's gaze – Regina looked at the floor. "I'm sorry she's gone. I would have stopped it if I could."

The anger fled Regina like shadows after flicking a light switch. Her breathe caught. She wanted to hate Emma for being so good that her first thoughts were for another's misery.

Emma was sorry. Goodness help her, but Regina believed her.

The flow of magic decreased to a steady ebb. Emma didn't ask how much longer it would be, she merely gifted Regina with her silence. Regina followed suit.

They sat on the floor side-by-side, hand-in-hand next to Henry's shoes listening to the cartoonish dialogue wafting from the living room. One episode ended and another started. Commercials for outrageously expensive toys came and went.

Emma spent the time with her eyes squeezed shut and her head against the wall. Bored and put out, Regina spent long moments studying her still form, wondered what she was thinking. Probably how to avoid spending time around Regina ever again.

Perhaps it had been a childish endeavor. Still, she couldn't help but think that she had come up with a clever plan to solve her problems where no one gets hurt and every party benefits... did anyone want to go along with it? Of course not.

So Emma would not cooperate, so what? She would think of a different way to approach Emma. If that failed her, she would devise a new plan.

Another plan that didn't negatively influence Henry while provoking Snow White's rage. Easy.

It was juvenile to wallow in the unfairness of the situation, but now that Regina couldn't do something as simple as slap Snow in retaliation, she was helpless. She felt as impotent as when her mother had smiled sweetly, sold her to King Leopold and leeched the rewards.

Regina's knuckles turned white.

"Holy shit, what happened to your carpet?" Emma interjected into her thoughts. She motioned to a pool of congealed wax and blackened carpet next to the entrance table.

"Oh, that." She'd nearly forgotten about that annoyance. She didn't know if she'd be able to restore the carpet, even with magic. "Your dear mother left a candle on my doorstep. A gift for me. I can't say I read the card."

Emma crossed her legs and grazed her teeth along her bottom lip. "Yeah. About that. I told her to back off today."

"That's... out of character for you," Regina managed to say, struggling to conceal her shock.

Emma shrugged and gave a tiny grimace. "So was you asking me out. Very twilight zone. Seemed like I should do something."

"She will discontinue contact with me?" Regina was almost sorry.

It would be worth it, though, for a small amount of sanity. Regina needed to sleep again. She wanted to remember her mother in peace, not wallow in the same miserable rut she'd been trapped in since Cora's murder.

"I may have made it worse," Emma said with a cringe. "She accused me of not trying hard enough to mend the bad blood between our families. She was more fanatical when I left her than when I came to her."

Not trying hard enough? Regina wanted to bite out all the things Snow hadn't done. Apologize for murdering her mother, for one. Show a hint of remorse for getting her sweet Daniel killed, for two. Say that she was sorry for a single act.

"Oh. I... you attempted to help, at any rate, Miss Swan. I'm grateful for that," Regina said, the words leaving her tongue like an awkward foreign language.

"It's not like her. Maybe like Mary Margaret, but definitely not like the real her." Emma paused, searching Regina's face. "You don't think...?"

Regina almost pitied her for jumping to that conclusion. Almost. "I don't think your mother is under a spell, unless we're counting the spell of her own naivety."

"Yeah." Her shoulders sagged. "I think I kind of knew that."

"For all the effort she has made, she has not said that she is sorry," Regina added quietly. "No regrets. Plowing forward. It seems exactly like Snow White to me."

Emma didn't say anything to that.

The background noise altered as Henry flipped through the channels in the other room. He must have settled on something low key, because Regina could barely hear it. Knowing him, she would probably discover him passed out under a throw pillow.

The magic flowing from Emma was barely a trickle now.

"The more the Blue Fairy teaches you," Regina said, "the better you will become at controlling your outbursts. Practice and time is all you need. You should be fine for the next few days. Ask her to do this when it gets to be too much, until you're able to control yourself. It's the first rule of magic: all magic has to go somewhere."

"I'm so not looking forward to lessons with her. You have no idea how aggravating that woman is to be around."

"I have some idea."

"I feel..." Emma paused, searching for a word. "Balanced. Less like I'm about to puke my guts out, anyway. Thank you."

"See?" Regina held up their conjoined hands. "Mutually beneficial."

Emma's resulting stare was inscrutable. "Apparently," she said finally.

Regina untwined her fingers, pulling her wrist away from Emma's. The connection broke with a zap of static shock from their clothes rubbing together. Regina rose gracefully to her feet while Emma struggled. She toed the pool of hardened wax with a sigh. No, she would have to replace the carpet.

Emma opened the front door. Crickets chirped from the front lawn.

"Goodnight, Miss Swan."

Distantly she heard Henry switch television switch off. It may have been him that declawed her in this situation but she didn't consider him a burden. If anything, Henry had made her realize how tired she was. Revenge tired her. Being kind tired her. Tolerating Snow White utterly exhausted her.

"You would have been enough..."

Regina didn't believe that for one second.

That didn't mean she wouldn't remember the only words her true mother had given her.

She was determined to act as a mother should. She would be a tired mother but a present one. Henry could not doubt her love any longer.

She needed another approach. Was it even possible at this point? Had she played her hand too early?

A nippy breeze pulled Regina from her thoughts. How long had she been staring at the carpet? She glanced up.

Emma Swan leaned in the doorway, thumbs hitched in jean pockets.

Regina's cheeks burned. "What?"

"I'm realizing that this is the first time you've had a plan that didn't involve death and destruction. Maybe I should be more supportive."

Regina pursed her lips. "Is that so?"

Emma rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Right. Yeah." A long breathe escaped her with force. Emma's gaze darted to the door like she would rather be sprinting out of it. "What time did you say? Eight?"

Henry wandered aimlessly into the room with a half-eaten orange in his hand. "Emma!" he said through a mouthful of orange. "You're still here."

Emma flashed him a smile. "Just leaving, kid."

"Seven o'clock," Regina corrected, hardly daring to believe it. "Friday."

"What's at seven o'clock on Friday?" Henry asked, face scrunching up. It was the same scrunched expression that Emma made sometimes.

"Ask your mom, kid," Emma said. "Night, little man."

"Goodnight," Henry chirped.

After the door clicked shut, Regina pressed her eye to the peephole. Emma was trudging to her bug, hands stuffed in her pockets. She opened her car door slowly, gingerly sliding into the driver's seat. Still fatigued from the sudden outburst of magic, Regina surmised.

Did Emma pity her? Is that why she had agreed to compromise her revered standards?

Regina didn't care in the slightest. Things were going her way. She'd almost forgotten what satisfaction felt like.

Once Upon a Time

Regina floated for the rest of the night. She played Scrabble with Henry and taught him four new words. She read a novel next to Henry as he read a comic. She received a text from Snow asking if she'd like to contribute to a bake sale. Regina responded with a smiley face. She hoped it disturbed Snow White to no end.

Her high didn't fade until after Henry had gone to brush his teeth and she was changing for bed. The familiar fear of the cold room, her mother's limp body and glassy eyes hovered over her. Ignoring it, she fantasized about the peaceful sleep she would have after Snow White was raging against her. Even if it came down to Snow agreeing to cease communications if Regina ended her romantic relationship with Emma, it would buy her peace.

Emma. The woman who was compromising her standards for her.

When Regina had informed Emma of her incapacity for true love, Emma hadn't disagreed. Emma hadn't agreed either. She'd said she was sorry Regina's mother had died.

Regina couldn't recall anyone saying they were sorry for Cora's death. Not Gold nor Hook, Cora's once fair-weather allies. Not Snow, even in the middle of the woman's guilt-driven histrionics. No one.

When she was washing the make-up from her skin she noticed the pen and notepad on the sink. She added number three to the Things in Common with Miss Swan list: sorry that Cora Mills died.

It wasn't until after she'd tucked Henry into bed and was cocooned in her own blankets that she realized it was the first time she'd asked someone on a date. She hadn't done half bad.

The longer she dwelled on Emma, the more she realized that the princess was an elegant solution to nearly all her problems.

She had slipped when she'd uttered the word 'engagement' in front of Emma when they were merely agreeing to a few dates to stir the pot. Her subconscious, perhaps, was more clever than her waking self. There was too much good sense in the idea to ignore.

The status quo – that was what she longed for. To rule, to be Snow White's enemy, and (tacked on in the most recent decade) to care for Henry.

"But I don't love the King, mother."

"Love? Love has nothing to do with it, my dear girl. Love is weakness. Power, remember? Marrying the King will get us what we want."

Cora had gotten them what Cora wanted, of course, not what Regina wanted. Not by a long shot, never mind her daughter's own wants or desires.

Now Regina's true love was dead, resurrected and dead again, and mother wasn't here to designate whom she opened her legs for and when.

It was time to get what she wanted. Her. Regina Mills.

She wanted a good family for Henry – an unbroken one – and security for both of them. A strong position from which to rule the kingdom and prevent the Charmings from running it into the ground. The misery of Snow White. A beautiful princess of whom all would be jealous. A happy son. And it would all be hers at the same time.

Marry a king? Never again. But she would marry the princess.

All in good time.