Chapter Text
The tavern is bustling with activity tonight.
Emma lets the music envelop her while she circles the tables in search of mugs to fill with mead. There are candles in every corner, but the dusty and warm ambience doesn’t allow anyone to see beyond a few tables ahead. People talk loudly, a boisterous laugh ringing out occasionally that surely belongs to Phillip. It’s almost cozy. It’s the closest thing to safety Emma’s experienced thus far.
The bard strums the lute in a calm melody for now, one of the singing girls on stage performing a sweet ballad. Emma grabs another plate of roast meat from the counter, the smell of hearty food reminding her stomach she should ask Granny for a portion soon.
She rolls her eyes immediately when she spots for whom it is. Hook.
“That’s a no from me,” she says immediately before he can open his mouth.
“Come on, Swan,” he nearly whines this time. He’s been one of her most annoying customers lately. “I haven’t even asked.”
“And you won’t.”
He’s a pirate. One of the most infamous ones according to Robyn, one of the other barmaids. Though lately he’s been staying at Granny’s inn down the street more often than not, and his ship is stationed in the harbor.
If Emma weren’t afraid that outright questioning him about it would be misconstrued as genuine interest on her part, she’d have asked him already.
“Well, the offer to share a pint or two still stands.”
“Noted.” Emma fills his tankard and can actually hear the liquid sloshing inside. It’s then she notices the music has momentarily stopped, the patrons talking in hushed whispers. Every pair of eyes seems to be focused on the entrance.
Turning her head in that direction, she realizes why, her stomach suddenly unsettled for some reason.
The most beautiful woman Emma has ever seen has stepped in, by herself, wearing black pants. She’s wearing pants! A sword is sheathed on her belt. And a gorgeous cavalier hat decorated with a purple plume sits atop her head. Her crimson fitted vest on top of the white shirt hugs this mysterious woman’s figure impressively as her gaze sweeps over the establishment, expression closed off.
Emma can’t make out all the details of her face in the dim light, but she bets she’s even more alluring up close.
“If it ain’t Captain Mills,” Hook says only for Emma to hear, also looking at the woman. Emma swallows.
That’s—?
“I thought she was a man?” Emma strengthens herself, puts her tray under her arm, unable to take her eyes away from this woman — a captain, even!
When she removes her hat and inclines forward in a bow, full of playful, dangerous jest, Emma shivers. “What a warm welcome!” Captain Mills exclaims. She watches the room with a sharp smile as she strengthens up. “Please, do not stop the music on my account.” It sounds more like a command to the band, who resume their playing.
And everyone starts pretending to be engrossed in their conversation once more.
Emma watches her, enraptured. Captain Mills places her hat back in her head. She chooses a table in an isolated, shadowy corner with a view to the entire tavern. Great choice, Emma thinks absentmindedly.
“I am flattered you knew of me and not of her, Swan, but you’re in the presence of a legend. I’m unsure why Regina is in the Forbidden Forest region, however.”
“I-I already know who Captain Mills— the most infamous pirate in the entire Enchanted Forest, I—”
While she’s spluttering for an answer, Hook clicks his tongue and produces ten golden coins, placing them on the wooden table with a clink. “Here. It’s for the best not to keep her waiting.”
Emma grabs the coins absentmindedly, throwing them inside her apron’s pocket. Then places the empty jug of mead on the counter. She cannot stop staring at her.
Captain Mills is a woman then. The woman. Dangerous, too, if the stories and gossip are to be believed. There are songs about her deeds! She’s the one who saved imprisoned women, a song said. She’s stolen from the crown’s ships more times than one could count, another told. That ship is the biggest you’ll ever see, so prepare to flee.
Why did Emma never figure out she was a woman?
Why does that even matter?
Armed with her trusty old tray, Emma sets out to say hello before any other bartenders get any ideas. To be fair, they all seem to have scurried away. Cowards.
Emma makes sure to be smiling as she approaches, steeling herself. She has no idea what to expect, but the last thing she wishes is to be rude. “Good evening, ma’am.”
The woman raises her head, her focus now on Emma, whose heart starts beating faster for no reason. But Emma was right before, she is handsome. Her hair is dark and curly, cut short near the nape of her neck. There’s a lot of kohl under her eyes. A scar on her right upper lip, another splitting the end of her left eyebrow in two. It doesn’t diminish her beauty; quite the opposite. It just makes Emma wonder about the tales, about other scars she may have.
The way Captain Mills moves her eyes from Emma’s own then down her body and back up slowly, however, eyeing Emma like she’s a fawn about to be hunted, has her bristling internally.
“Captain will do,” the pirate answers after a moment, a smirk on her lips, but it lacks warmth. It feels empty.
“Aye aye,” comes out of Emma’s mouth before she can stop herself (thankfully she doesn’t salute, though the urge is there). In her defense, nothing annoys her more than people assuming she’s defenseless or whatever it was that this woman just assumed. She clears her throat and tries again. “Good evening, Captain.”
Captain Mills leans back and raises an eyebrow as if daring Emma to challenge her authority once more. Oh, it would be so easy to fall for it.
“What can I get you?” Emma gives her a tight-lipped smile.
“Just ale for now.” Captain Mills pauses. Something flashes in her eyes that Emma can’t really decipher. “Fill it to the brim, will you?”
“Sure.” Emma swivels on her feet and goes to the counter on the other side of the tavern, feeling eyes on her all the while. She raises one finger in Anton’s direction. “To the brim, Anton.”
Soon enough, he comes back, holding the tankard in his hand while giving her that look. The look that says she just has to say the word and he’ll do something about it if she’s in danger. Emma rolls her eyes and says, “Don’t worry. I got this.”
“Be cautious, Emma,” he replies, placing the tankard in front of her.
“Yeah, yeah.”
Leaving her tray behind and grabbing the tankard’s handle, Emma takes it carefully back to Captain Mills, who’d seemed to be attentively listening to Jasmine sing mournfully about a love lost or something equally depressing, but now focuses on Emma again, expression carefully blank.
Emma clears her throat. No more antagonizing the pirate, if only for Anton’s peace of mind. “That’ll be five,” she says.
Keep it simple.
Mills unfastens her coin pouch from her belt and places it on the table without fanfare. The coins clink together inside, and there must be a small fortune for some spill out. Captain Mills grabs a fistful of them without counting and turns her closed hand, palm down, and waits. Her fingers are adorned by many gold rings glinting in the candlelight.
Emma huffs, but acquiesces to the small game. Whatever it is Captain Mills wants to test, Emma will pass each one without blinking twice. She puts her open palm right below hers, then watches as the coins drop one by one to her hand.
Her fingers brush Emma’s when she’s done. Slowly. Or maybe Emma’s zeroed too much into the movement, a tingling sensation running down her spine. And then the pirate has the audacity to close Emma’s fingers to trap the coins inside her hand. Emma swallows.
“Keep the change.” Captain Mills taps her hand twice before backing off.
“Who am I to argue with that?” Emma shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips despite herself as she throws the coins inside her apron’s pocket.
The hint of a smile crosses Captain Mills’ face, that seemingly permanent scowl softening at the edges. She raises her tankard in Emma’s direction. “Aye, aye.”
This baffling kindness — and, dare she say, playfulness — from the most infamous pirate in the Enchanted Forest is not what she’d expected. She steps back with a shake of her head.
She doesn’t really know what to make of the whole situation.
***
Emma’s behind the counter the next night.
They rotate so everyone gets a chance to be here — it’s lighter work, in a way, because you don’t have to go around the tables serving people and being ogled by drunk men.
She’d wondered, an hour ago, whether Captain Mills would show up again or if it was a one time thing.
Perhaps her ship has already left the port, so there’s no sense in wondering. And the pirate wouldn’t even remember her, surely.
It’s a bit strange that she’d chosen their little tavern from all places. Why? Why would she be here, by herself? None of her crew were present yesterday. She heard rumors they stayed aboard the ship. Everyone she saw around the town were talking about the infamous Captain Mills at Granny’s Tavern. Seriously, why would she be at a place named after a granny?
It’s during a moment she’s turned around to get the ale from the barrel that the music falters, and the prickling sensation at the back of her neck tells her all she needs to know.
When she hands over the tankard to one of the serving girls, Alice, she spots Captain Mills at the entrance, seemingly looking around for someone, but that could’ve just easily been her looking for a place to sit, so Emma shouldn’t assume.
Captain Mills raises her hat in salutation this time, rolling her eyes at all the gawking, and almost stomps to the same table from last night, none of her jest present.
Emma shrugs. It’s none of her business. Let Alice serve her and she’ll just manage the counter. In the same beat, one of the men motions to his tankard, so she busies herself and decides to stop thinking about Captain Mills.
“Emma.” Alice stops in front of the counter and calls for her, her voice just loud enough for her to hear.
“Yeah?” Emma raises her eyebrows. “What’s the order?”
“Actually… I know it’s not your night, but could you go over there and serve the captain?”
Emma makes the mistake of looking over Alice’s shoulder, and there she spots Captain Mills staring directly at Emma, her chin resting on her hand. Shaking her head, Emma refocuses on Alice and leans forward a bit. “You didn’t go there?”
“N-no— I did! It’s just that she was asking for you, and I panicked!”
“She doesn’t even know my name, how do you even think—”
Alice winces. “I told her your name, I’m sorry. As I said, I panicked a little… She’s… she’s very intimidating.”
“No, she’s not…” Emma grumbles under her breath, but the butterflies in her stomach say otherwise. “Tell the Captain that it’s not how it works. She wants to talk to me, she’ll come here. Not the other way around.”
Shaking her head with wide eyes, Alice replies, “Oh gods, no, I can’t say that… Just— just give me her ale, I’ll tell her you can’t leave, okay?”
“Sure thing,” Emma says, reaching for a clean tankard and filling it to the brim with ale from the cask. She then hands it over to Alice, who exhales shakily. Poor thing.
For some reason, Captain Mills ruffles Emma’s feathers like no one has managed in a while. In a good way, perhaps, nothing like Hook’s pointless flirting. Why the interest in Emma of all people? Why was she asking for Emma specifically?
The urge to look at her table is too strong to fight against. So Emma’s eyes linger as Alice sets the drink down, the candlelight accentuating the contour of the pirate’s set jawline when she realizes Emma did not in fact pause her work to go deal with her whims. She produces some coins for Alice and sets them on the table — not touching her, Emma’s traitorous mind provides — and waves her away.
Alice looks incredibly relieved and rushes to other tables far from hers, while Captain Mills stares with narrowed eyes in Emma’s direction.
In the end, Captain Mills only raises her tankard in a salute, and it feels like a concession, like Emma had won a game of checkers she wasn’t aware she was playing.
***
Most of Regina’s crew are spread around town, sleeping in inns and enjoying the bars and spending time with family if they have any.
They are all spending a couple of days in town after a long journey back from Arendelle. They’d returned Anna, one of the princesses from that land, to her home after rescuing her from Blackbeard’s ship. Honestly, that idiotic scumbag got what he deserved.
A few nights ago, Regina isn’t sure what possessed her to enter this particular tavern near the center of town. She doesn’t usually indulge — doesn’t usually leave her ship, actually. The horrors she’s seen at seas plagued her mind’s eye and wouldn’t leave her alone, however. The haunted look on Anna’s face will stay with her for a while.
So she’d entered the tavern in search of a momentary distraction.
Maybe it is a bit unfair to Kathryn, her quartermaster, to stay with some of the crew to protect the ship nearly every night since then.
But that woman won’t leave Regina’s thoughts. She cannot, for the life of her, understand why. It hasn’t happened since… well, a long time ago.
Emma is more than she’s led people to believe, Regina’s sure of it. There’s a fire simmering inside. Someone who’s seen the darker side of life and stepped back from it, but isn’t afraid at all.
She doesn’t look afraid of Regina.
The patrons are less worried the next time she enters the establishment, nary a murmur of complaint this time around. It seems Emma is stuck at the counter again, and Regina won’t make the same mistake twice.
Emma has surely already spotted her, but Regina makes a show of saluting in her direction with her hat before pressing it firmly back on her head. She struts to the counter and leans her elbows on it.
“Tell me, where can I find good books?” Regina’s found that being unpredictable works wonders to catch people off-guard.
“Certainly not here,” Emma quips immediately, without losing a beat. Her eyes sparkle with amusement, and Regina snorts. Damn this woman. “You could try near the church, Belle has a small library there. But you’d have to return the book in a week from now.”
Regina waves the problem away with her hand. “We’ll be around. Appreciate the information.”
Emma nods. “What can I get you, Captain Mills?”
“Call me Regina,” falls without second-guessing from her mouth, like a starved woman who had to—
“Regina, then. Captain Regina Mills. Has a nice ring to it.”
—hear her name spoken by such a pretty lady. She shivers.
“The usual,” she manages to say.
“Ale filled to the brim.” Emma turns with precise movements to bring a clean tankard to the cask. “I’m Emma. Emma Swan. But you already found out my name.” Emma chuckles. As promised, she places the beverage in front of Regina, who watches her without blinking. She’s mesmerizing. “That’ll be five.”
Regina fishes in her pouch without breaking eye contact, then leaves her fist hovering over the counter, just waiting. This time, Emma doesn’t hesitate at all, placing her open hand right under hers. This time, Regina also drops the coins to her, closes Emma’s fingers around them, but does not remove her hand.
“Keep the change.” Regina smirks, delighted in Emma’s slightly open mouth, and the hand that hasn’t moved from hers. It’s refreshing to have this effect on a woman.
She watches as Emma slowly pulls her hand back, coins clinking as they drop into her apron. “You’ll run out of gold at this rate,” Emma mumbles, suddenly bashful. What wouldn’t Regina give to kiss her rosy cheeks right now…
“Oh, I certainly doubt that.”
Tapping the counter, Regina grabs her tankard and takes a hearty sip to distract herself. The pause helps her realize how long she’s been here at the counter. And how unfocused she’s been, not paying attention to her surroundings. Someone as… infamous as her shouldn’t keep her guard down. “I shouldn’t keep you from your duties. Until we meet again, Emma Swan.”
Emma nods with a smile. “Farewell, Regina Mills.”
***
Two nights later, not that Emma’s counting or anything, Regina enters the tavern again. And lets Alice serve her without complaints, which does not matter at all. It’s fine.
It’s not like she let Emma call her by her name, not Captain Mills. How many people have that information? Did she tell Alice as well?
So Emma goes around the tables and pretends like it does not bother her, a weird feeling swirling in her chest.
“Swan! Another one, will you?” Emma turns at the sound of Hook’s booming voice and rolls her eyes at him but obliges, filling his cup once more. “Why don’t you join me?”
Emma sighs. “We’ve been through this. I’m not interested— and I’m working right now. That’ll be five,” she adds in the end, trying to cut their conversation short.
“Alright, alright,” Hook grumbles.
Emma nearly sprints to the counter after she grabs his money; lets the jar of ale sit there for a bit. Her hands shake and her skin feels like it wants to rip her body apart. She thought she’d overcome this already. Being assertive and sticking to it shouldn’t leave her so rattled anymore.
She exhales shakily.
“You okay, Emma?” Anton asks as he dries a tankard with a cloth.
“Absolutely.” Emma smiles as best as she can, probably failing if she judges by his concerned stare. She scratches her left arm; the tingling sensation won’t go away easily it seems. “Just needed to pause for a second, my feet are killing me.”
Emma can see the hesitation in his gaze, but he thankfully drops it — or more like she gives him no chance to continue when she swipes the jar back in hand and swivels on her feet to look around the tavern.
There are fewer patrons tonight, mostly the regulars. It’s probably late already, which would explain it. Emma loses track of time while she’s here. It makes her miss the outdoors just a bit.
Her eyes inevitably fall on Regina, who’s seemingly concentrated on listening to the lute’s strings. She’s hidden in the shadows of the candlelit tavern as she nurses her ale, in that perfect table for watching the entire establishment.
Emma’s feet are moving before she can really think it through, and she stops right in front of Regina’s table, blocking her view of the band.
Now that Emma can discern her features better, her agitation quiets momentarily, the urge to flee not as prominent. She immediately notices Regina has set aside her hat; her hair is messy in a way that indicates she probably spent a lot of time running her hand through it. Is it a habit or is something bothering her?
Regina raises an eyebrow in silent question. Oh, right.
Emma shows her the jug as an answer.
“Um… more ale?”
She mentally tells herself that is exactly why she decided to come here. Why did she come here anyway?
Regina’s expression doesn’t betray anything. In fact, she looks so damn serious that it takes a second to register her words. “Sit down for a bit.”
“I’m—I’m working right now,” Emma says immediately. For some reason, the ‘I’m not interested’ part stays omitted this time around.
“Nonsense. I’m sure that girl…” Regina pauses. “What’s her name again?”
Emma blinks at her, confused beyond belief. “Alice?”
“Ah, yes. Alice can cover for you for a moment, Emma. Sit down for a bit,” she repeats, playfully patting the space next to her on the bench.
Emma sighs, looking around to pretend that hearing her name said like that, falling from Regina’s lips slowly as if she were savoring it, didn’t mess with her head. She just knows from her hot cheeks she’s blushing again. Captain Regina Mills will be the death of her.
“Fine, give me a moment.”
After she manages to convince Alice to attend to Emma’s usual tables for a bit, she sits next to Regina in the wooden booth seat, her knee jittery under the table. It’s the first time she’s this close to her, and it feels so intimate all of a sudden. Regina’s perfume is doing things to her brain, floral and heady.
Watching Regina throw back the rest of her ale, Emma closes her hands into fists. She needs to calm down.
“What do you do when you’re not here?” Regina shifts her position, an elbow on the table as she leans her head on her hand, her focus solely on Emma. There’s something refreshing and scary about it; she’s not used to it. Regina’s gaze is studying her like the wrong words could have Emma running away. Or maybe Emma’s projecting.
Emma looks away, unable to handle the intense eye contact. She watches the flickery flame of the candle on their table, as if willing the fire to give her some of its raw power. Some courage.
“I don’t really do much,” she starts. “I’m saving up so I can have my own place…” She says the last part quietly, a bit ashamed that after so many years she still hasn’t managed to build her own cabin. But what can she do? She’s nearing her thirties and unmarried. Life has not been kind. “I stay at Granny’s inn. At least it’s near the tavern and cheap since I work here.”
“No family, then?” Regina asks, then clicks her tongue and shakes her head in self-admonishment. “I apologize, that was insensitive of me.”
Emma shrugs. “It’s fine. I never met my parents. Grew up in the local orphanage. And I’m not married either.”
“Sometimes having parents can be worse, trust me.” Regina chuckles and it’s not a nice sound; the way she leans back against the wall and narrows her eyes speaks of bad memories and personal experience. Emma’s not entirely sure she’d trade the way she grew up for cruel parents instead. “Alas, it got me where I am now, which I suppose mirrors your own circumstances in a way. We wouldn’t be here today, I wouldn’t have met you, if it weren’t for our past, no matter how different our upbringing.”
The words seem honest — Regina might just believe it’s… important they met. But why? Why does it even matter to her? Even if their past brought them here, somehow, look at their lives! They couldn’t be more different.
It sits uncomfortably in her gut, the way this feels… too honest, too good to be true.
“You’re just saying that…” Emma laughs awkwardly. She bites the inside of her cheek, annoyed at herself for being an overthinker. It’s just easier to keep people at bay. Something in Regina’s face shifts, but Emma doesn’t know her well enough to interpret what it means. She tries a smile to play it off. “I bet it’s to pay less for the drinks.”
“Clearly,” is all Regina says, playing along as she grabs the cup and takes a long gulp of her ale.
Emma tries to tell herself that maybe odd acquaintances are all they’re meant to be; while the way her stomach flips when Regina focuses her intense gaze on her again tries to tell her this should be much more.
***
Regina watches the night sky the next night. The moonlight blending into the Endless Sea isn’t enough to quench the turn her thoughts have taken, nor are the sound of the waves that should soothe her.
“Evening, Captain,” she hears suddenly, and acknowledges Kathryn with a nod, who stops next to her, staring at the sea as well. “Not going into town tonight?”
She decided not to venture into the tavern at all, worried about the fact that she can’t stop thinking about Emma Swan is becoming a problem.
The more she learns about Emma, the more she wishes to know. To understand.
But Regina’s become a pirate for a reason. To take the control she never had of her own life hadn’t been easy. It came with sacrifices, such as not seeing Daddy again.
However, it ensured her freedom, she thinks with a heavy heart, her hand fiddling with the ring attached to her necklace.
“Have you ever been in love?” Regina asks as a nonsequitur. Her quartermaster could help put these notions to rest.
“What a question, Regina…” Kathryn laughs. “Yes, I have. It didn’t end well for Frederick, but I don’t really like to talk about that part of my past. Reopen old wounds. Besides, it was so long ago…”
“I understand. No one here likes to think about the past at all.”
“Yes, well, but why the sudden interest?” she asks. Regina spares her a glance but doesn’t say a word. Kathryn gasps, smiling. “Wait, are you—”
Regina clears her throat. “No, obviously not. But she is dangerous, Kathryn. I can’t afford to risk it.”
“Maybe you should.” Kathryn shoves her lightly on her side. “It would do you well to be reckless every now and then.”
“Since when am I not reckless?”
“Not when it comes to matters of the heart. No, you are not. The fact it’s the first time we even talk about this should be an indicator that this is important, that this woman is important. No?”
Pursing her lips, Regina hugs her midriff. “I hate when you do that,” she mutters.
“What, when I’m right?”
“I should never have given you this position. Then maybe you wouldn’t have become this insufferable.”
Kathryn lets out a laugh. “I’m your voice of reason.” She takes a couple steps back, maybe to let Regina digest her words. “It’s in my job’s description, Captain,” are her parting words.
***
Regina doesn’t show up the next day. To be fair, Emma’s unsure of her comings and goings, but after sharing a table with her for a few hours last night, she’d expected…
She should stop expecting anything from a pirate.
Still, during the day before her shift in the tavern she’d seen a blonde woman in the markets whose expensive long coat and overall disposition gave her away as a pirate. Part of Regina’s crew, most likely, which reassured Emma they hadn’t left port.
Would Regina even let her know?
Why would it matter?
***
Cautiously heeding Kathryn’s advice, Regina stops hiding like a coward and visits the tavern a few nights in a row. She doesn’t push Emma, aware that all it does is push her away, she’s noticed before.
So she plays their coin game, lets her fingers brush Emma’s and enjoys her reaction, enjoys her banter. When Emma is at the counter instead, a few nights later, Regina immediately saunters over there, orders her ale and strikes a conversation with her again.
She confirms Emma is single when that idiotic pirate, Captain Hook, stops by a few stools away and she overhears his question.
“Come on, Emma, are you seeing someone? Is that why?”
“No, no, I’m just busy, sorry. Here, take your ale.” Emma tugs at her own ponytail. “That’ll be five.”
Emma’s voice doesn’t tremble, not exactly. But she speaks faster. Is she nervous because she likes him or the opposite?
Hook decides to drink his mead elsewhere, which is an excellent decision in Regina’s opinion.
Emma exhales audibly, and Regina refrains from commenting on whatever that was, letting Emma steer their conversation, the helm all hers.
“What was the most dangerous thing you’ve ever faced out there?”
“Hmm. Creatures notwithstanding,” Regina says with a teasing smile, “there was a battle between us and two other ships one time. They’d heard we’d found coveted treasure from an island and went after us. We had a princess on board, too.” Just recalling that fateful day has the phantom pain acting up, and she nearly hisses.
“Why a princess?” Emma asks cautiously, and Regina realizes her blunder.
“We didn’t kidnap her, if that’s where your mind went,” Regina replies, tone a tad sharp. She doesn’t like to be associated with bandits — men — whose acts repulse her to no end.
“Sorry…” Emma has the decency to look sheepish at the very least. “I suppose I only know the scary bedtime stories concerning pirates, but you… you don’t really fill the description. Please continue.”
“Apology accepted.” Regina taps her fingers on the counter. “We almost lost her, because she panicked, understandably, when the men entered our ship and asked for our surrender. I got a nasty scar that day. I don’t remember ever facing such horrible men before. But we made it.”
Emma swallows, seemingly debating with herself as her mouth opens and closes. Then, surprisingly, she touches Regina’s eyebrow with the pad of her finger briefly. Regina inhales through her nose and stares, transfixed by the way she bites her lip before asking, “This one?”
“Not— not at all,” Regina croaks out, caught off-guard. She is usually the one testing the waters — pun unintended — and would never have expected Emma to do so. Regina touches the same place Emma did. “I had forgotten about that one. The scar I was talking about is in my abdomen. I got stabbed but thankfully I didn’t let him go deeper, so it didn’t hit anything important. I was bedridden for a week though. My crew refused to let me walk around, afraid I’d die from infection.”
Emma smiles. “They sound like good people, your crew.”
Regina tilts her head playfully. “Good is a strong word for pirates. But I suppose they are loyal. We all protect each other. It has worked in our favor, so we stick together. Women who were seeking more. Women who were rescued, who had dark pasts. I wouldn’t be the notorious Captain Regina Mills if it weren’t for the hands on deck.”
Before Emma has to step away to serve someone else, she throws Regina a look of admiration that has Regina feeling hot under the collar. “I think you’d still be notorious, but that just makes it even better.”
Regina is finding it increasingly hard not to fall for this woman.
“I shall take the compliment,” she replies quietly, afraid that saying it louder would show just how affected she is.