The Way

Chapter Six

Emma's knuckles hadn't yet hit the door when Henry excitedly pulled the pristine front door open. His grin was more immense than any she had yet seen him wear, and in spite of the situation, she felt herself relax at the sight. If Henry was happy, she was happy. That was, until the blur of another figure appeared in the background. Blue eyes settled on Regina's form, taking note of the typical business attire and resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Henry had informed her that his adoptive mother had, atypically, agreed to allow Emma into the house for dinner, but the expression on her face and the arms crossed over her chest suggested anything but pleasure at Emma's arrival.

"Regina." Emma greeted the former mayor with a stiff nod. The frown on Regina's face deepened.

"Miss Swan."

"Henry!" came the young boy's voice from where he stood, centered in the entryway between them. Emma and Regina looked at him in unison, and Emma's eyes caught the split second twitch of a smile at the corner of her son's other mother's lips. The blonde wondered absently if she'd ever seen Regina actually smile-as in, the non-evil, ulterior motive kind of smile, which was what she often displayed.

"Please, come in. The lasagna is almost ready."

There was an edge to Regina's voice Emma couldn't ignore but, as she slipped her boots off and tucked them neatly into the rack by the door, she considered that it was something she'd never heard before. The false-niceties were ever-present, but this time there was a hint of nerves. Nervousness was quite out of character for the usually austere older woman. Even when she'd offered Emma the apple turnover she hadn't seemed nervous.

So why now?

The blonde shrugged her jacket off to hang it on the coat rack, and then followed Henry and Regina into the kitchen. The smell of lasagna and garlic toast washed over her, elliciting a growl from her stomach. It occurred to Emma that she hadn't eaten anything since the cereal that morning at the diner with Henry. She cast a glance to the perfectly set table, noting the decorative china and wondering how often it was used. It seemed as though a great deal of planning had gone into this meal, from the deep bowls filled with colorful salads that looked absolutely delectable down to the single violet carnation in a vase at the center of the table.

"If I'd known I was coming to a five star restaurant, I would have dressed better," Emma commented, offering Regina and Henry a warm, teasing smile. "This looks wonderful you two. Itsmells wonderful too!"

"I suggested takeout," Henry piped up from where he had hopped up to sit on the counter, "but Mom insisted we cook here at home. Well, I didn't do much. I made the salads."

The buzzer on the oven went off and Regina moved from her place tending to the garlic bread to slip oven mitts onto her hands and retrieve the lasagna.

Emma couldn't help herself.

"You didn't leave your mom alone with the lasagna and bread though, right?"

Suddenly, Regina whipped around and Emma's gaze connected with hers as if by magnetics. She realized her mistake in an instant, for Regina did not take kindly to jokes, and the blonde's discomfort increased a tenfold. Henry, too, seemed to understand the insinuation that his mother might have poisoned the food, and he looked awkwardly at the ground, waiting for a reaction with bated breath. Emma's situation wasn't much better.

Much to both of their surprise, however, Regina only straightened and freed herself from the oven mitts. When she did speak, her voice was level and calm.

"I thought it only proper to forego the poison in the food," said the raven-haired woman, and Emma looked up at her in shock. "Just for tonight."

Had that been a joke?