So Does This Make Us Both The Other Woman?

1. A Conversation About Love Stories (That Regina Never Wanted)

First, they're sitting at the table one evening after Henry's vanished upstairs and Regina says, "So Hook finally wore you down." It's not an accusation (it can't be an accusation when she's in no position to accuse) but it sounds like one, and Emma gives her a dirty look and stares down at her pasta. Regina frowns and chooses her words with care. "I'm not criticizing your choices. Hook...has his appeal, but I'd have never thought you'd find true love with- "

And she can see from the way that Emma's face darkens that she's hit a nerve. "Why is it always true love with you people?" Emma demands, stabbing at her plate so violently that it tips to one side with a loud scrape against the table.

"So now there's nothing between the first kiss and a lifelong commitment?" She glares up, defiant. "Hook makes sense, okay? I like him and Henry likes him and I think my dad has this weird boy crush on him and when I told my mom I was dating him, she nearly cried and talked about weddings for a half hour. They're all happy. I'm happy." A savage bite of baked ziti. "Why does it have to be more than that?"

"I merely thought-"

Emma sags, the fire dying within her as quickly as it had come. "We don't all get fairy dust-mandated true loves, okay? Some of us just have to...figure things out. On our own. And yeah, with the guy who says he's been in love with us for a year. It's not like the Storybrooke dating pool has much to offer. It's Hook or Leroy at this point."

"I'm fairly certain Leroy is in love with one of the nuns." She's inordinately pleased when that gets a tired laugh from Emma. "You're welcome to date whoever you want, Emma. Even if-" She frowns. "Did you say that Henry likes him? The pirate?" One year together and Emma's introduced her son to all sorts of miscreants. She should have some say in that. (Though she's the only one who seems to remember that Hook had once sent her off to be tortured, and now doesn't seem the time to bring it up.)

Emma eyes her, suddenly wary at the scowl that settles over Regina's face. "Yeah, I think so. They'd been hanging out a lot while we were fighting Zelena." She sighs. "Henry likes him a lot. He's been suggesting date plans with him and joining Mary Margaret in the wedding planning."

She can feel her scowl deepen. "Yes, well, Henry likes me a lot, too. That doesn't mean wedding bells are tolling for us, either."

A smirk. "That'd solve a lot of problems right there. Shame you don't like me." Emma waggles her eyebrows and winks and Regina most certainly does not flush. It's blatant avoidance of the topic at hand, but she takes the bait anyway. Because Emma thinks she doesn't like her, and that's–

"I don't...not like you. If I did not like you, do you think you'd be sitting in my house for dinner now that Henry's back home?" She busies herself with Henry's empty plate and her own, yanking Emma's plate away from where she's playing with her pasta.

She still catches the knowing grin that spreads across Emma's face and her cheeks are suddenly hot. "I like you too, Regina."

"Oh, get over yourself," she huffs, heading for the kitchen. And naturally, Emma follows, hitching herself up onto the counter next to the sink and grabbing a towel.

Regina washes the dishes with rough, businesslike swipes of a sponge, refusing to look at her. Emma takes the first plate from her after she's spent five minutes on it, her eyes dancing with glee at her discomfort. "We'd make for a much better love story than Hook and me, too. The saviour and the evil queen, three years in the making? Falling for each other in between shouts of "He's my son!'" She whips the towel around with a flourish, and Regina's never been happier to hear her front door open.

Robin pokes his head into the room to flash a smile at them both. "Ah, Emma's still here." She gets an odd, forced smile from him. Robin's been typically affable to nearly everyone in Storybrooke except Emma, and Regina's afraid to ask him why it is that he's so wary around her.

Emma remains determinedly oblivious, though she'd caved once to ask Regina about it. ("Just a personality clash," Regina had lied with a painfully forced smile of her own. "Imagine someone not getting along with you," she'd added dryly, and Emma had stolen the last fry off her plate and rolled her eyes at her.) "Hey, Robin. Just hitting on your girlfriend." The smile remains on his face, plastic and dropping dangerously toward a grimace, and Regina rubs furiously at a plate without looking at either of them. "You've got nothing to worry about, I promise." Her grin falters when Robin's fades away entirely.

"Yes, I'd heard you and Killian Jones are quite the item," Robin says, and Regina glances up just in time to see Emma's face drop. It's a whole new level of queasiness that erupts within her at that.

Emma nods, slipping down from the counter and patting Regina on the arm. "Yeah, I guess. I'm gonna go say goodnight to Henry."

She vanishes from the kitchen and Robin repeats, "I have nothing to worry about?" It's supposed to be lighthearted, but instead, it emerges heavy and grim, and Regina murmurs, "It was only a joke," which doesn't answer anything at all.