Emma's day started like any other Thursday in Storybrooke, except today, there was one distinct detail: Regina had kissed her, and everything inside her felt changed. Thursday may have been typical, but the week leading up to Thursday had been anything but.

The Sunday before, Emma was injured during a break in at the Mayor's house. The call came from Regina directly when Emma was out on patrol. The conversation was brief, but Emma could hear fear roughening Regina's voice, a crash, a scream, and Henry crying.

Emma raced to the Mayor's home, barely pausing to throw the patrol car into park before sprinting up the walkway, and rushing through the splintered white door. Jefferson. He'd broken in, looming and threatening in his controlled crazed manner, cornering Regina and Henry in the study.

Emma found it difficult to control her breathing, but she needed to remain quiet. The house was dark and still, except for the thudding of her heart, which was deafening in her ears. She raised her weapon and swept through the lower levels until she came upon them. She'd never forget the sight of Regina holding a fire poker as a weapon, standing courageously in front of Henry, his hand intertwined in hers. Her lips were parted, teeth bared in a frightening snarl. Jefferson was closing in. Emma heard him say that if Regina didn't give him what he wanted he would take Henry just as she had taken his Grace away.

Regina saw Emma sneak through the doorway, but smartly made no indication to give her presence away. It took a moment for Emma's eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, the only illumination being a small smoldering fire. Jefferson heard her and turned, fixing her with his deranged smile. As he knocked into her the too recent memories of a similar struggle flooded her mind. A swift punch, a kick to her ribs, and her gun knocked free and on the loose. She put up a decent fight. She'd like to have thought, but for some reason she always seemed to lose or need help. Emma looked up from the floor to meet Regina's face, which was twisted in perverted pleasure as she deftly stabbed the fire poker into Jefferson's stomach. He fell to his knees writhing in pain, wide eyed, as a trickle of blood fell from his lips. Emma recovered enough to stand on shaky legs, and pulled his hands back securing him with handcuffs and then retrieved her gun pointing it at him.

Henry ran to hug her, but she yelled at him to stay back as her free hand pressed into her injured side and she let out a sharp hiss of pain. Her eye was swelling shut and it was difficult to keep her weapon trained on Jefferson. Henry stumbled backwards stunned by the harshness in Emma's voice. Regina stepped in and pulled him to her, he rubbed his tear stained face against her side, as she attempted to sooth him with gentle monotone statements:

It's all going to be alright. We're safe. We're going to be okay. It's over.

Emma called 911 and the paramedics retrieved Jefferson and took him to the hospital. He was badly wounded, and would most likely need surgery. He was in no position to escape between the wound and the sedation they'd give him. The paramedics tried to get Emma to come to the hospital and have her injuries evaluated as well, but she refused, opting instead to stay with Henry and make sure he and Regina were okay.

Getting Henry to bed had been a long, arduous process, it took many assurances, and the promise that the light would stay on and the door open. Regina had said little, her face blank, as she offered Emma a raw steak to press to her swelling black eye. Emma wanted to offer something to comfort Regina in return, but she didn't know what to say. Emma had started to ask what Jefferson had wanted, but the look Regina gave her said if she brought it up Emma would have a fire poker in her own belly.

Emma always got her ass beat in fights, and she had been in far too many. She trained, ran, was strong, but she just was missing a sort of intuition that her attackers seemed to have. She sighed shallowly from her seated position at Regina's dining room table, evaluating her injuries. Regina reentered the room and handing Emma two white pills and a glass of water.

"Hydrocodone," Regina stated simply. Emma took the pills, only briefly wondering if she should be so trusting. Emma decided she had been go, it was late and everyone was safe, but as she slowly stood Regina moved in front of her and crossed her arms, "You can barely walk, let alone drive. You're not going anywhere."

Emma couldn't really argue with that, but she definitely couldn't spend the night sitting on the hard dining room chair. Usually, her meetings and arguments with Regina were short and to the point, but spending a prolonged amount of time with her was extremely awkward. She didn't want to have to ask Regina for any help, but being in her house and out of her element she had to.

"Upstairs," Regina moved to her side in case Emma needed help, but Emma put up her hand. She wasn't dying just sore and battered. Ascending the stairs had been slow, but fine until Emma realized Regina was leading her to her bedroom.

"Shower," Regina turned the light on in the adjacent bathroom, while Emma still stood like an idiot in the doorway. She heard Regina turn on the water, and then she reemerged, pulling a silky nightgown from a drawer and some towels and placing them on the bathroom counter.

Emma was still hesitating in the doorway and afraid to speak any more than a two syllable word as Regina seemed annoyed by her presence, "Regina? My boots…please."

With a sigh Regina pointed to the bed, where Emma sat, and let Regina unlace her boots. When they were off, Emma went into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. She slowly and painfully removed her shirt and her jeans, any movement that required stretching or bending was agonizing. She wished Regina would come in and help her, but she didn't dare ask. It was already too much, and far too uncomfortable.

The hydrocodone kicked in just about the same time that Emma got in the shower. She felt so tired, and the water was so warm. She gently scrubbed the blood from her face, lathering up with Regina's fancy soaps, and wishing she could take her time and perhaps have a bath in the luxurious tub. Hmm, maybe Regina could join her…Her eyes popped open at the indulgent thought and she blamed that line of thinking on the drugs.

As if on cue, she heard Regina's voice, no doubt wondering what was taking so long, "Sheriff? Are you okay in there?"

"Yeah, coming…just a little slow," Emma called back, the force of breath from yelling sending a searing pain through her chest. She hurried as best she could only pausing when she was untangling the silk nightgown that Regina had picked for her. It was short and clingy. She carefully pulled it on; her body still a little wet and smoothed it down the best she could. Her worries were alleviated by the pressing need for sleep. She almost didn't catch Regina's odd stare, approval and relief sketched on her face, when she emerged. Regina had turned down the covers and Emma eased between the comfortable sheets, not even caring that she was going to be sharing a bed with Regina.

The last thing she remembered before she drifted off, (although she couldn't even be sure she hadn't imagined it.) Regina whispered, as she pulled the covers up around them both, "Thank you for staying, I didn't want to be alone after that."

Emma had wanted to argue, and let her know that she was pretty useless right now in case something else happened, but she understood on some level that wasn't the point. Regina just wanted someone close, and Emma fit the bill to act as a human stuffed animal for the mayor.