A/N: Hey, a bit of light fluff for your Sunday morning.

As a note - anything in BOLD during the texts belongs to Emma, anything in italics belongs to Regina.

Enjoy!

They're just returning to the station when Emma sees her cell phone buzzing on her desk; she'd forgotten to grab it on the way out on a domestic call.

This time it'd been a all about a psychotic cat, a prized rose-bush, an angry neighbor with a shotgun and a bottle of bourbon.

Typical Storybrooke style stupid shit.

"Emma," David nudges, indicating her towards her still vibrating phone.

"Yeah." She picks it up and looks at the message. "Regina," she states.

"Problem?" her father asks as he puts his gun into the top drawer of his desk.

"No."

He tilts his head.

"She's just checking on dinner plans for tonight."

"Ah."

Emma chuckles and quickly pockets her phone. Then, with a smirk playing across her pale lips, she turns back to face her father. "All right, Dad, out with it. What's going through your head?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "It's nothing."

"Really? Nothing? Because…that kind of sounds like disapproval. I thought we were all friends these days; Mom and Regina have even been doing all of that official town business together."

"They have, and we are…all kind of like friends these days. It's just…them getting along as well as they have been is actually a bit unnerving. It's pretty weird, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I guess, but…it's what we all wanted, right? Peace? Regina happy -"

"Of course. I'm not…" he shakes his head, frowning just a little bit. "I have no issue with that. I'm glad that she's happy, but…I don't think her happiness has anything to do with Snow."

Emma's eyebrow lifts. "What are you getting at?"

"It's nothing, really. It's just…well, this dinner thing between you and Regina, it's become kind of like a regular event for you two, hasn't it?" He's pretending to ask so very casually. And failing.

She shrugs. "Us three. Us and the kid. Every Friday at Granny's. Per Henry's wishes."

"Does Henry wish for Wednesday dinner at Regina's, too?"

"That doesn't happen every week and…what do you think is going on, exactly, Dad? Do you think that there's some kind of thing going on between me and Regina -" she laughs loudly at that.

"Emma -"

"You realize how hilarious that is, right?"

"Why?" David prompts. "Why is it hilarious, Emma?"

Emma blinks. "What do you mean 'why is it hilarious'? And why aren't you laughing with me. David, it's Regina. And me. You do remember that, right?"

"Stranger things have happened."

"Not that strange." Emma shakes her head and then gives her father a light push. "We're…" She stops for a moment, searching for the right word to describe her often turbulent but always interesting relationship with the Mayor. "We're friends." She nods her head because yeah, that sounds about right. "Friends who are co-parenting a pre-teen and managing to get along most of the time. Okay?"

"Okay." His tone says quite the opposite, though; his tone makes it fairly clear that he doesn't believe her even a little. His tone suggests that he thinks that he sees something that she doesn't.

Which is…absurd.

"Good. Now that that's cleared up." She laughs again and then wraps her arm around his shoulders and squeezes tight. "Come on, let's go grab some lunch; you clearly need more sugar."

Before he can reply, she lets go of him and then heads towards the door leading out to the street, not noticing how her father is still watching her, frowning, deep in thought as he follows her.

All the while thinking that the one way in which his little girl doesn't take after him is when it comes to admitting what's going on deep inside of her bruised but still fiercely strong heart.

YOU THERE?

DEPENDS ON WHERE THERE IS. IF YOU MEAN SITTING IN THIS ROOM WITH SOME OF THE MOST INSUFFERABLE EXCUSES FOR HUMAN BEINGS EVER BORN, THEN YES, I AM HERE. OR THERE. WHATEVER.

A SIMPLE YES WOULD HAVE SUFFICED MADAM MAYOR.

FINE. YES, SHERIFF SWAN, I AM HERE.

BETTER. SO I HAD A STRANGE CONVERSATION WITH MY DAD.

DID HE MANAGE TO STRING THREE SYLLABLES TOGETHER? I UNDERSTAND HOW THAT COULD BE CONCERNING TO YOU. IT WOULD WORRY ME AS WELL.

AT LEAST TRY TO BE NICE REGINA. I THINK HE THINKS WE'RE DOING…STUFF.

STUFF?

YOU KNOW. STUFF.

EMMA, I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF A TWO-HOUR LONG BUDGETARY MEETING WITH YOUR MOTHER AND THREE FORMER KINGS WHO I AM CURRENTLY NOW BERATING MYSELF FOR NOT MURDERING WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE; I MOST CERTAINLY DO NOT KNOW WHAT "STUFF" MEANS. ELABORATE, PLEASE.

DID YOU JUST USE PROPER PUNCTUATION IN A TEXT? PRETTY SURE THAT BREAKS EVERY RULE.

EMMA.

I THINK I JUST HEARD YOU SIGH.

FOCUS, SWAN. "STUFF"?

OH IT'S NOT IMPORTANT. WE CAN TALK ABOUT IT LATER. JUST SILLY STUPID UNIMPORTANT…STUFF. YOU KNOW.

YOU'RE SURE?

YEAH. SORRY FOR INTERRUPTING YOUR FUN. ENJOY YOUR MEETING AND THANKS FOR NOT FORCING ME TO BE THERE.

YOU OWE ME.

I'LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU.

HAVE YOU CONSIDERED THAT PERHAPS COMMENTS LIKE THAT ARE WHY YOUR FATHER THINKS THAT THERE IS "STUFF" GOING ON BETWEEN US?

LOL. KEEP IT CLEAN YOUR MAJESTY. I JUST MEANT I'D BRING SOME WINE OVER TO YOUR HOUSE SOMETIME LATER THIS WEEK.

VERY WELL. DINNER AT 5 IS FINE, THEN?

YEP.

DON'T BE LATE.

AM I EVER?

YES. GO BACK TO WORK, SHERIFF. I DON'T PAY YOU TO DISTRACT ME FROM IMPORTANT MEETINGS.

YES YOU DO.

Regina sighs as she reads the last message; as of late, their text and phone conversations (but especially the text ones) have gotten more and more…intimate?

No, that's probably not the right word especially considering that she has a fairly good idea about exactly what David thinks is going on between she and his daughter. Emma might have the emotional maturity of a bottle cap when it comes to noticing changing tides, but there's been more than a time or two over the last few weeks when Regina herself had begun to wonder about this curiously developing and shifting friendship of theirs and how easy and comfortable things have become. Well, as easy as things can ever be between them.

There had been the argument about Henry going to summer school; Emma had said he didn't need it and should be allowed to enjoy the weather and the ocean and hanging out with his friends and Regina had been hard core about his studies having suffered thanks to the chaos of their lives.

And then there had been the less than healthy debate over Emma's recent lapse in her magical studies; Regina had been insistent that having so much untrained power working its way through her could only end badly for everyone. Emma, though, had disagreed; thanks to the relative calm around Storybrooke as of late, she has shown more of an interest in backing off from magic than in using it.

She's still clearly deeply afraid of what's inside of her and that's a problem.

One without an easy solution.

A lot like their shifting relationship appears to be.

Regina lifts her head to her temple and lightly runs her thumb down past her right eye socket and then over her nasal bridge, pushing back on the intense pressure that she feels building there. It's not all from Emma - in fairness, little of the pain she feels is coming from the woman whose friendship has actually become a rather critical source of of happiness in her often strange and confusing life.

No, this headache is likely due to seasonal changes, lack of proper sleep (the calm around Storybrooke hasn't kept away the nightmares) and the other morons in the room. Speaking of -

"Regina?" she hears and immediately she flicks her eyes up to see the rest of the room looking at her expectantly.

Like they're waiting for her in-put on something.

And she's thinking about Emma Swan.

Hiding a sigh, Regina clears her throat. "I'm sorry; can you please repeat the question?"

Snow gives her something an odd look, an eyebrow slightly lifted in a way that's entirely too presumptuous, and Regina rather hates that particular look because it feels entirely too knowing.

"I asked you how much longer are we going to continue to subsidize the convent?" the former King Midas – now Alexander Perry – demands in something of a whining sneer. "They should be -"

"They're nuns," Regina reminds him, her tone dry.

"They're fairies with magic," George snorts derisively. "Fairies who hate you, Regina."

"I'm well aware of their dislike. But that doesn't alter the fact that they're harmless de-winged little bugs who have taken a vow of poverty and have thus far not altered from that vow," Regina shoots back and then smirks because it does amuse her that even after the curse had been broken, Blue and her obnoxious pain-in-the-ass fairy lackeys had remained stuck in their chaste little habits.

"That might be the case for now, but do I need to remind you that they can break that 'vow' at any time being that they're not actually religious," Midas states. "They can make their own money."

"So can I, but that's not actually how an economy works. I know your voodoo magic hand allowed you to forget what budgetary forms actually look like when we were back in our world, but here we're trying to actually build something that can survive after all the magic users are gone."

"So we continue assisting them," Snow cuts in, choosing to stop the argument. "I agree."

Regina smiles at her tightly and then nods her head sharply (ignoring the bolt of pain she feels at the motion), both thankful and annoyed at her support. "Very good. Then then let's move on."

She's met with grumbles and the sound of multiple pages being roughly turned.

As she turns her own page, she looks down at her cell one last time, and thinks that Emma is somewhat right: she does actually appreciate the distractions that the sheriff provides her with.

"You feeling all right?" Snow asks as they're walking out of the meeting room a few hours later, the sound of Regina's heels providing rhythm and beat.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been rubbing your -"

"I'm fine, Snow."

Snow smiles slightly. "You're allowed not to be fin. Especially around me."

"I think you've seen more than enough of me not being 'all right' for both of our lifetimes," Regina reminds her as they step into the elevator and Regina punches the button for the second floor.

"Regina -"

"It's just a sinus headache, honestly. But if I don't get moving, I'll have a bigger headache on my hands; I need to pick up Henry from school and then get over to Granny's so that I can wait for your obnoxious daughter who will inevitably be fifteen minutes late – at least - for dinner."

Snow chuckles at that, then nods to the thick stack of binders in Regina's arms as the door opens and they step out into the hallway together. "Looks like you have a few things to do first."

"It'll only take me a few minutes to get these filed away," Regina replies defensively, stopping herself from reminding her former stepdaughter that she'd run the Mayor's office for almost thirty years before the curse had broken. Just because the town is functioning more like a regular one now doesn't mean she's any less capable of running it. She holds her tongue, though because, Snow means no harm in what she's saying, and there's no reason to create drama where it doesn't need to exist.

"I know," Snow agrees. "But since I'm headed that way, how about I pick Henry up and take him over to Granny's? I'll even hustle up Emma. And you can have five minutes to yourself."

"I'm fine," Regina says again.

"There's some sinus meds in the bathroom in our office."

Regina narrows her eyes. She's still not overly thrilled about sharing an office with Snow (Snow is technically her deputy mayor when she's not teaching over at the school) and she likes even less how Snow has filled up her bathroom with all sorts of reasonable things like creams and medicines.

It's annoying because she imagines that she should have thought of those things herself. But well, before the curse had been broken, if a headache had come on, she'd just gone back home.

Now, there's too many people watching and everything is a sign of weakness.

Even a mere headache.

"I'll make sure she's on time for once," Snow promises, reaching out to squeeze Regina's forearm, the touch so gentle and loving. So understanding in a way that still somewhat hurts and burns.

Because it makes Regina wonder what they could have all had…

No, there's no point in going back to that; what's done is done.

So she changes the subject, tries to find higher ground again. "You're not worried?"

"About what?" Snow asks as they finally reach the door to the Mayor's office.

"Your husband seems to think that Emma and I are…" she trails off.

"Ah. He thinks that there's something going on between the two of you," Snow finishes, nodding her head like she completely understands now. "Something more than friends, perhaps."

"We're not."

"I know."

Regina tilts her head, can't help herself. "But what if we were?"

Snow shrugs. "I want you both happy."

Regina narrows her eyes at that. "Snow, did you hit your head on something, dear?"

"Of course not," Snow chuckles, a maddening and entirely too-kind smile on her face. "But, since this is all rhetorical, anyway, I can safely say that while I probably wouldn't have ever chosen the two of you for each other and while I would personally find a lot rather strange about it considering my own relationship with you, I also know how strange and unexpected love can be."

"There's no…there's none of that. Expected or otherwise."

"I'm simply saying that the heart chooses what it does, Regina."

"I tried to kill you for almost four decades."

"And failed miserably. More times than a super villain really should. So you're either completely inept or you love me." Snow grins as she says this.

"Now I know where your daughter gets her insufferable nature from. And her arrogance. And presumption. And assumptions. And everything else annoying." Regina huffs loudly in irritation.

Snow smiles again. "The aspirin is on the top shelf." She squeezes Regina's arm once more and then turns and walks down the long hallway leading back towards the elevators once again.

"Idiot," Regina mutters, and then steps into her office.

YOUR MOTHER THINKS THAT THERE'S SOMETHING GOING ON BETWEEN US AS WELL.

REALLY?

YES.

WHAT DID SHE SAY?

SOMETHING NONSENSICAL AND SNOW WHITE LIKE.

THAT'S NOT ACTUALLY AN ANSWER.

I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS.

YOU'RE THE ONE WHO BROUGHT IT UP.

THIS TIME, YES, BUT…WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS SILLINESS LATER LIKE WE AGREED TO DO EARLIER. IN THE MEANWHILE, SPEAKING OF YOUR ANNOYING MOTHER, SHE'S GOING TO PICK HENRY UP AND THEN MEET UP WITH YOU; SHE PROMISED ME THAT YOU'D BE ON TIME FOR DINNER. FOR ONCE.

YOU SIC'D MY MOM ON ME?

SHE OFFERED.

AND GOT UNDER YOUR SKIN.

SHE DIDN'T.

SHE CLEARLY DID.

DROP IT, SWAN.

HEY YOU OKAY?

FINE.

REGINA.

IT'S NOTHING. JUST A HEADACHE.

WE CAN CANCEL IF YOU'D RATHER GO HOME.

NO, I'D RATHER NOT.

YOU'RE SURE YOU'RE OKAY?

I'M SURE I'M SICK OF BEING ASKED. 5PM, SWAN. BE ON TIME.

It's Emma's turn to scowl at her phone, Regina's message still blinking on the screen.

Is her weird crankiness all about the questions that her parents have suddenly started asking about the relationship between the woman? Are those questions why Regina is so on-edge?

Because there really is nothing going on.

They're just friends.

But then Regina is mercurial at the best of times, and trying to know what might set her off is never an easy task.

Then again, these days Emma finds that she's finding it harder and harder to figure out what's going on in her own mind. Which is probably why lunch with her father had been more uncomfortable than usual (it's never uncomfortable and perhaps that's why this one had stood out so much to her); she'd spent most of it trying to avoid his weirdly knowing gaze and how penetrating it'd felt.

Like he'd been trying to look into her and even through her to find a kind of truth.

Emma roughly scrubs her hands over her face and groans because this is silly; yes, she and Regina have gotten closer especially since Neverland, and in fact their whole family has become tighter and more bonded together, but that's all this is. It's two women who have finally pushed past their ridiculous conflicts with each other (at least the large stupid ones) and managed to find commonalities.

They've found friendship and companionship and even partnership and all of this talk of something more between the two of them is just the boredom of everyone around them.

Her meddlesome parents most of all.

"Hey," David says as he enters the office, almost as if knowing that she was thinking about him. "Your mom just called over to let us know that -"

"She's picking up Henry."

"Right." He tilts his head. "Regina -"

"Texted me."

"Of course, she did," David nods. "If you're finished up here, I can walk you over there."

"It's three blocks away and I hardly need an escort."

"Do I actually need a reason to take an afternoon stroll with my daughter?"

"We walked – strolled – over to Granny's together for lunch earlier."

He shrugs his shoulders and then offers his arm with a big goofy David Nolan style smile on his lips. "Come on," he presses. "Humor your Old Man."

"Fine; there's nothing going on around here, anyway," Emma finally allows. "Apparently the spaz-out from earlier is actually over, and Shotgun Willy or whatever his name is is chilling out."

"That's the spirit."

"You going to buy some me ice cream?" she grumbles as she stands. "Isn't that what daddies are supposed to do?" She then winces because wow, that actually came out just a little bit creepy.

Not that he notices (thankfully the less than classy connotation of that particular title is utterly lost on David); if anything, his smile grows into something bright and all-consuming. "If you'd like."

She laughs and then slips her arm into his and bumps his shoulder with hers. Wondering once again how anything in her life had ever felt complete before she'd found Storybrooke, Maine.

Henry and Snow are just entering Granny's when David and Emma arrive a few minutes later, both of them still arm-in-arm and David babbling on about something he'd been taught how to do in regards to his engine. Emma doesn't have the heart to tell him that his understanding of mechanics is actually frighteningly poor. He looks so happy. And she rather likes her family like this.

"Hey, Kid," she greets as Henry comes up to her and gives her a quick one-armed kind of hug. He's a teenager now and still working through his many family and adventure related issues (he's in therapy twice a week, once with by himself and once with his moms and where as he'd hated it when he'd been ten years old, nowadays he actually finds it nice - or at least not intolerably awful - to be able to talk about the many nightmares that he still has.) Still, his once abundant affection is waning.

His hugs still happen but with far less enthusiasm.

Because he's starting to get some cool.

Emma can't wait until Regina realizes that that's what's happening - not that she'll understand it, at least not at first - and then completely freaks out when Henry decides that he needs to fit in with his peer group like all of the other teenage boys in his class.

Yeah, somehow Emma doesn't see Regina reacting especially well to Henry Mills, normal every-day All-American teenage boy.

God help them all if Henry ever gets introduced to weed, Emma muses.

"Hey," Henry greets. "Mom's not here yet?"

"She still has five minutes; she's probably just timing her entrance; you now how Her Majesty likes to roll," Emma drawls, rolling her eyes for dramatic emphasis.

They both laugh at that and then move over to the table, watching as Snow and David take one across the room; Emma figures that once Regina gets here, she'll see if they can get a table all together as they often have, but she chooses to wait just in case Regina really isn't feeling up to a larger group and just wants to keep it to the three of them for tonight.

A bit more quiet and intimate.

Emma frowns at that.

"Ma?"

"It's nothing," she says with a slight groan and then a wave of her hand through her thick wavy blonde hair. "Your gramps promised me ice cream. Thinking Rocky Road."

"Oh-kay? And this is different than usual? You always get that. You're kind of boring."

"Ugh. Just for that, you get vanilla."

"For what?"

"For thinking I'm boring."

"Sorry. It's a parental thing. You're boring and you're really kind of weird sometimes, too, Ma." So matter-of-fact but with the smirk of a teenage boy growing up far too fast.

She smacks him on the forehead with the points of her fingers and he retaliates by slapping her hand. She's about to put him in a headlock over the top of the table - okay, so maybe she's really not mom of the year material - when her eyes catch the clock and she notices that it's now two minutes past when they're all supposed to be meeting for dinner.

Which…it's only two minutes.

But Regina is never late.

As in never. Ever. Never.

"Ma?"

"Hang on." She fishes her phone out of her pocket and checks for a message. Nothing. Nothing at all; weird, she thinks. "Hey, Kid, do me a favor and check and see if your mom texted you."

"Okay. Something wrong?"

"Nah, probably not."

He holds up his phone: nothing.

"Last time I saw her, she was going into her office to file some paperwork and take some sinus medicine," Snow states as she approaches, a matching frown to the one Emma's wearing on her face.

It's only four minutes past the time they were all supposed to meet now, but both women are still officially worried.

Which is absurd.

But they are.

Emma lifts up her phone and starts typing:

HEY YOU GET HELD UP?

YO REGINA? FORGET ABOUT DINNER? I THINK I'M INSULTED. I'M ON TIME AND YOU'RE NOT.

YOU KNOW I'M NEVER GOING TO LET YOU LIVE DOWN BEING LATE THIS ONCE. NEVER.

HELLO?

I'M ON MY WAY OVER AND IF YOU'RE JUST DISTRACTED AND FILLING OUT PAPERWORK, YOU CAN FEEL FREE TO YELL AT ME FOR MY IMPATIENCE BUT YOUR KID IS FREAKING OUT PRETTY BADLY SO…I'LL BE THERE IN A SEC.

The office is dark when Emma, Henry and her parents enter it about ten minutes later. The curtains have been drawn to keep out the sun, but that's not unusual for late in the afternoon; Regina tends to like to keep it cool and absent streaks of evening light.

What is, unusual, though, is that when they finally locate Regina, they find her slumped against the couch, a hand thrown over her face as if to shield her eyes.

"Mom!" Henry calls out, his entire teenage attitude flickering away as worry overtakes him and his green eyes go wide with panic and fear; without thinking, he rushes towards his mother.

What Emma sees, however, is the way that Regina's chest is rising and falling.

Slow and peaceful. Normal and easy.

Which means all is well.

Emma lets out a breath.

"She must have been feeling worse than she let on to me. She probably just sat down for a moment," Snow suggests quietly to the others as they watch Henry shake his mother awake.

"And fell asleep," David finishes.

Emma throws them both a look of annoyance for their narration, then strides over to join Henry and a finally waking up Regina.

"Henry? Emma?"

"You're late," Emma says softly.

"What?"

She follows Emma's eyes towards the clock and then curses under her breath. It's actually a rather creative profanity, and Emma finds herself smirking in amusement.

"I just closed my eyes for a moment," Regina mutters to herself, her tone apologetic and a bit embarrassed as she sits up, wincing slightly as her kinked back barks in protest.

To her surprise, she feels Emma's hand suddenly settle on her forehead and her first instinct is to swat it away from her. Just before she does, though, she catches the worry in Emma's eyes and for a moment, she can't say or do anything but gaze back at Emma, wondering what this really is.

Wondering where this clear concern for her is coming from.

Finally, with a slight tremor in her voice, Regina insists, "It was just a sinus headache; I was trying to take some pressure off and I fell asleep."

"Feeling any better now?" Emma asks.

"A bit, yes; the aspirin has helped some." She nods over at Snow in gratitude.

"Okay." Emma removes her hand from Regina's forehead, then scowls at Henry when she notices the way he, too, is watching the two of them interact.

But then Henry notices that Regina is trying to stand and she's not quite solid on her feet just yet so like the dutiful son that he is, he pulls his attention away from Emma and jumps forward to offer his mother a hand which she gladly takes as she centers herself and gets her balance back.

"Better?" he asks.

She nods. "So dinner, then?"

"You think you're up for it?" Snow queries, still concerned.

"Of course, I am."

Emma looks at her parents, then back at her once more before finally nodding. She then waves her arm towards the door and says, "Dinner it is."

She doesn't miss the strange look that Regina gives her, the confusion over the clear worry that Emma is still showing towards her.

She also doesn't miss the feeling of relief that's surging through her.

Dinner is strange and interesting.

Typically rambunctious as all dinners with the assembled family tend to be, but there's a curious tension there now, too.

Emma finds her eyes drifting up to Regina repeatedly - checking in on her.

Regina smiles to reassure her even though the pinching around her eyes suggests that she's still fighting off the sinus headache.

Emma wonders if this is their own weird way of trying to take care of each other.

Her parents (and Henry, too, she thinks) most certainly notice what's going on between the two women.

This time, Emma does nothing to stop them from thinking what they're thinking.

ARE YOU AWAKE?

IT'S TWO IN THE MORNING REGINA - OF COURSE I'M NOT AWAKE. BUT NOW I AM. YOU ALL RIGHT?

WE SHOULD PROBABLY TALK.

WHAT ABOUT?

ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED TODAY.

EVERYTHING OKAY?

I AM. THE HEADACHE IS COMPLETELY GONE NOW.

GOOD.

YOU WERE WORRIED. ABOUT ME.

WE'RE FRIENDS AREN'T WE?

WE ARE.

OKAY THEN. FRIENDS ARE ALLOWED TO WORRY ABOUT EACH OTHER. BUT FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH, I WORRIED ABOUT YOU WHEN WE WEREN'T.

I KNOW BUT I STILL THINK THAT WE SHOULD PROBABLY TALK.

NOW?

WE COULD WAIT FOR BREAKFAST BUT…

RIGHT. I'M PROBABLY NOT GOING TO SLEEP NOW. WHERE?

THE DOCKS? 10 MINUTES.

WILL YOU BE ON TIME THIS TIME?

I WILL BE. WILL YOU?

"You're on time," Regina notes as Emma approaches the rail at the end of the dock and stands next to her.

"I said I would be.

"Actually, you didn't reply at all."

"Don't want to make a promise I can't keep. Besides, need I remind you that it was you who fell asleep on us tonight? Not me?"

"This time," Regina teases.

Emma shrugs, "It mattered to you for me to be on time. So I am."

"Oh," Regina says softly. And moment of awkward silence passes before quietly, her voice full of emotion, Regina asks, "Are your parents right, Emma? Is there something more going on between the two of us?" Regina looks right at her when she asks this.

Emma grunts in surprise. "You know, I never would have thought you for the one to…I dunno, make us deal with this."

"One of us has to and you're the runner, Emma."

"You've done your share, too."

"I know. And, depending on what you think this is -"

"What I think it is? Don't we kind of need to be on the same page here? I mean, what I think is irrelevant if you don't think the same thing."

"It's not irrelevant," Regina argues. "But yes, we do need to be on the same page. My point…my point is that part of me still wants to run now because making this real feels like a very bad idea."

"So you've decided what this thing is between us, huh?" Emma observes with her head cocked. All the while thinking about the many ways that something can go from a strange almost even absurd idea stuck somewhere between the lines to a brilliant kind of reality which exists within the lines. How it can go from a whispered about form of subtext to a shouted form of actual text. And how somewhere buried deep beneath the surface can become a en evolutionary perhaps even revolutionary kind of passionate truth if you just allow it to happen.

"You were worried," Regina emphasizes. "And not Snow who worries about me because she alternately sees me as either her stepmother or her sister and not like when you were just trying to keep me safe for Henry or because it's who you are, Emma. You were worried about me. Actually worried. Like...you care."

"Yeah, I guess I was and...I do." She glances out at the water, so turbulent beneath the force of the crushing night surf. A few moments pass and then she says, "What I feel for you, about us, whatever…it's all kinds of complicated. Because we're complicated and I don't think we make even a little bit of sense."

"We make a little," Regina chuckles. "Not a lot, but well, we're opposites and they do have a rather bizarre way of attracting."

"You sound like… like this would be okay with you?"

"For all of the darkness inside of me, for all of my doubts, the one thing I've never failed to believe in is the existence of love."

"You think -"

"I think that there is something between us and no, I don't know what it is and I admit that it frightens me as much as it clearly does you, but that doesn't change the fact, Emma, that there is still something there. Something real and undeniable. The question is, what do we want to do about it?"

"And if I say that I want to kiss you?"

Regina chuckles, low and deep, her eyebrow lifting up ever-so-slightly. "Well that would be a sudden change of direction considering the rest of this conversation."

"That's not a no."

"It's not. Is that what you truly want -"

Emma leans over and just does it; she never was one much for useless empty words and spending time hashing out the silliness of feelings. Not when there are actions available to her.

Her lips press against Regina's - hard at first and then gentling after a few moments of tentative and then not so tentative contact – and then she feels hands on her face and then in her hair. She hears Regina sigh into the kiss and when they part, they're still standing so close to each other.

"That was -"

"Nice," Regina agrees. Then dips in and steals another kiss, her teeth catching Emma's lower lip.

When it's over, Emma murmurs, "Guess that answers that."

"Are you sure? You didn't seem –"

"I'm good at refusing to see what's right in front of my face," Emma tells her.

"You and me," Regina admits.

Emma nods her head. "So? What now?"

"You walk me home and then we talk about it some more tomorrow when we've both had time to think about all of the complications of this - because despite your parents apparently being amenable to it, there will be many and…well, I'm not an especially…easy woman to love."

"That's where you're wrong."

"Emma –"

"You are wrong. You're a very easy woman to love, Regina. What you aren't is an especially easy woman to be with. But I know that and maybe I'm not all that easy, either." She laughs, and then adds. "You know when I start thinking is usually when I start considering how to make my escape."

"You're not going anywhere," Regina says confidently.

"You're sure of that?"

"This is where your family is."

Their eyes meet and then Emma leans in and kisses her again, gentle and sweet and with just a hint of passion beneath it; their arms wrap around each other and they're both moving closer to each other, filling the same space and breathing the same air.

Then, "Yeah, it is."

It's the sound of her phone buzzing which catches Regina's eye as she steps out of the bathroom after she'd gone into it to clear away the salt and grime from her evening at the docks.

Her evening spent in Emma Swan's arms.

Life is weird.

And sometimes even wonderful.

Impossible to believe, but…apparently true.

She picks up her phone and looks down at it, a small smile forming on her lips.

As she reads the message which says simply:

GOODNIGHT REGINA. I'LL SEE YOU IN THE MORNING.

"Yes," she says, to herself and to the walls and to an Emma who can't hear her, but she thinks probably knows, anyway, "You will."

-Fin