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Chapter Text

The house was too quiet.

Regina Mills had never been one to mind silence—at least, not before Henry. She had once found solace in it, power even. Silence meant control, a world neatly arranged according to her design. But now, silence only served as a reminder of what was missing.

The kitchen felt cavernous as she moved through it, methodically preparing dinner. The steady rhythm of her knife against the cutting board filled the space, the sharp scent of garlic and herbs curling in the air. She worked on autopilot, her hands moving without thought, chopping, stirring, seasoning. It was muscle memory at this point—cooking for two, setting the table for two.

Except there was only one now.

Regina stilled, her fingers tightening around the wooden spoon in her hand. She glanced toward the dining room, toward Henry’s usual seat. It remained empty, the chair neatly pushed in as if waiting for him to return.

It had been two weeks since he left for college. Two weeks since she had helped him pack up the car, since she had hugged him tighter than she dared admit, since she had watched Emma drive away with him a smile on his face and adventure in his eyes.

She was proud of him—God, she was proud. But that didn’t make the house feel any less empty.

With a sigh, she turned back to the stove. The sauce was coming together beautifully, a rich tomato base simmering in the pan. She reached for the pasta, measured it out, then hesitated. The portion in her hand was enough for three people.

Regina exhaled sharply and dropped a handful of it back into the container, annoyance curling in her chest. Old habits.

She finished cooking in silence, save for the occasional bubbling of the sauce and the soft clink of metal against porcelain as she plated the meal. When she finally sat down at the table, she found herself staring at the two empty seats across from her.

It was absurd, really. She had spent years dining alone before Henry, and it had never bothered her. But now, with no teenage boy rolling his eyes at her insistence on vegetables or sneaking extra bread when he thought she wasn’t looking, the dinner felt… incomplete.

Her fingers curled around her fork, then relaxed. She picked up her phone without thinking, her thumb hovering over the screen.

There was no reason to text him. He was probably busy with classes, with friends, with the thrilling newness of college life. She refused to be the kind of mother who hovered, who demanded daily updates.

Instead, her gaze flickered to another name in her messages.

Emma Swan.

Regina hesitated.

Since Henry had left, Emma had stopped by more than a few times—never admitting outright that she was checking in, of course. There was always an excuse. She had extra donuts from Granny’s, or she was “just passing by,” or she needed to talk about some minor town issue that could have easily waited.

Regina hadn’t minded. If anything, Emma’s presence had been… comforting. Annoying, at times, but comforting.

Her fingers moved before she could second-guess herself.

Regina: I made far too much pasta. Would you care to help me eat it?

She hit send and immediately set the phone down, suddenly regretting it. It was a simple invitation, casual enough, but still—why had she sent it? She wasn’t lonely. She was simply used to feeding more than just herself.

Her phone buzzed almost instantly.

Emma: Are you saying you made dinner and you want to share? Who are you and what have you done with Regina Mills?

Regina rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

Regina: I’ll rescind the offer.

Emma: Whoa, whoa. I never said no. Be there in 10.

Regina set the phone down and glanced toward the empty chairs.

Well. At least one of them would be filled tonight.

***

The knock on the door came precisely ten minutes after Emma’s last text.

Regina smirked to herself as she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. Emma Swan was nothing if not predictable—never one to turn down food, especially when it was freely offered. With a shake of her head, she made her way to the door and pulled it open.

Emma stood on the porch, a six-pack of beer dangling from one hand and a familiar, teasing smirk on her lips.

“Well, well,” she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Regina Mills, actually sharing a meal? You must be really desperate.”

Regina arched an eyebrow. “I can assure you, Sheriff, I’m quite capable of enjoying an evening alone. I simply made too much food, and it would be wasteful not to share.”

“Mm-hmm,” Emma hummed as she kicked off her boots. “And that had nothing to do with the fact that this house is ridiculously quiet now?”

Regina stiffened for half a second before rolling her eyes. “Are you here to eat or to analyze my emotional state?”

Emma grinned. “Can’t I do both?”

Regina gave her a pointed look but turned back toward the dining room, allowing Emma to follow. The table was already set, two plates neatly arranged with generous portions of pasta and a fresh salad. A candle flickered in the center of the table—not because she was trying to set a mood, but because Regina Mills had standards, and even a casual meal deserved proper lighting.

Emma set the beer down on the table and plopped into the chair across from Regina, already making herself at home. It was something Regina had noticed more and more lately—how effortlessly Emma fit into this space. How she no longer hesitated before pulling a chair closer or reaching for the serving spoon. How her presence didn’t feel like an intrusion but an addition, as though she had always belonged here.

Regina sat down and watched as Emma dug into her food with enthusiasm.

“Damn,” Emma muttered around a bite of pasta. “This is so much better than the frozen stuff I usually make.”

Regina let out a soft, pleased laugh. “I should hope so. I have no idea how you’ve survived this long on that excuse for a diet.”

Emma shrugged. “Lots of coffee. And sheer determination.”

They fell into an easy rhythm as they ate, conversation flowing effortlessly. They talked about their days—Emma recounting a particularly dull patrol, Regina complaining about a zoning dispute at town hall. But eventually, the topic drifted to Henry, as it always did.

“I talked to him this morning,” Emma said, twirling her fork idly. “He was running late for class but still took the time to remind me not to send him care packages every week.”

Regina let out a small huff. “He told me the same thing.”

Emma grinned. “That just means we’re doing it right.”

Regina smirked but then let her gaze drop to her plate, the levity fading just slightly. “It’s strange, isn’t it?”

Emma looked up. “What is?”

Regina hesitated for a moment before answering. “The house. The town. Everything feels… different without him here.”

Emma’s expression softened. “Yeah. It really does.”

There was something unspoken in the space between them. A mutual understanding. Henry had been the glue that held them together for so long, the reason their paths had kept crossing, the force that had turned them from enemies to something resembling friends. And now, without him as the constant in their lives, they were left with something unfamiliar.

Emma leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly. “I don’t think I realized how much time I spent with you guys until he left.”

Regina glanced up. “Neither did I.”

A silence settled between them—not awkward, but thoughtful. It lingered as they finished their meal, as Emma grabbed two beers from the six-pack and handed one to Regina without asking, as they moved to the couch without discussing it, as if it were the natural next step.

Emma stretched out, making herself comfortable, while Regina sat more properly, legs tucked beneath her. The fire crackled softly in the fireplace, casting a warm glow around the room.

Regina took a slow sip of her drink. “You’re staying rather late.”

Emma smirked. “You trying to get rid of me?”

Regina rolled her eyes but didn’t answer.

The truth was, she didn’t mind Emma staying.

Maybe she didn’t want her to leave at all.

Emma reached for her beer at the same time Regina did, their fingers brushing against each other on the coffee table.

Neither of them moved right away.

It was a fleeting touch, barely a second, but Regina felt it—how warm Emma’s hand was, how the brief contact sent a quiet hum of awareness through her.

Emma seemed to notice it too. She looked up, meeting Regina’s gaze, her expression unreadable.

For the first time that evening, the silence between them wasn’t just comfortable—it was charged.

And Regina wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

Regina let her fingers linger on the cool glass of her beer, her thoughts momentarily scattered by the warmth of Emma’s touch. It had only been a fleeting brush of skin against skin, an accident, really. But it left something in the air between them—something unspoken, something Regina wasn’t sure she was ready to name.

Emma, for her part, didn’t pull away immediately either. But after a beat, she exhaled, breaking the moment as she leaned back into the couch, stretching her legs out in front of her. “So,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “How’re you really handling the whole empty nest thing?”

Regina arched a brow, collecting herself before responding. “I’m handling it.”

Emma snorted. “That’s not an answer.”

Regina sighed and let her gaze drift toward the fire, watching the flames flicker. She hated this—talking about feelings, admitting things she’d rather keep neatly tucked away. But Emma was looking at her expectantly, and there was something about the openness in her expression, the way she really wanted to know, that made Regina feel… safe.

So, she answered.

“It’s quiet,” she admitted finally. “Too quiet. I thought I would enjoy the solitude, but I…” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I hadn’t realized how much space he took up in my life. How much of my day was shaped around him.”

Emma nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah. I get that.” She turned the bottle in her hands, watching the condensation bead along the glass. “I mean, I always knew Henry was the reason I stuck around Storybrooke at first. But I didn’t realize how much of me was wrapped up in being his mom until he left.”

Regina studied her for a moment, recognizing the quiet weight in Emma’s voice. “And how are you handling it?”

Emma huffed out a laugh. “Not much better, honestly. My place feels too big now, which is ridiculous because it’s tiny. But without Henry coming and going, leaving his shoes in the middle of the floor, stealing my Pop-Tarts…” She shook her head. “It’s weird. I don’t like it.”

Regina smirked slightly. “So that explains why you keep ‘accidentally’ showing up here.”

Emma grinned but didn’t deny it. Instead, she took another sip of beer before saying, “It’s not just Henry I miss, you know.”

Regina’s fingers tightened around her glass. The way Emma said it—so casually, but with something deeper just beneath the surface—made something in Regina’s chest tighten.

She swallowed. “No?”

Emma’s gaze flickered to hers, steady and unreadable. “No.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The fire crackled softly, the only sound in the otherwise quiet house. Regina felt her heart beating just a little too fast, the air between them shifting again, something fragile and delicate settling in the space they shared.

Emma was the first to break the silence.

“He’s happy, though,” she said, her voice softer now. “You can hear it when he talks. He’s settling in, making friends, figuring things out.” She smiled wistfully. “It’s what we always wanted for him.”

Regina nodded, pushing past the odd weight in her chest. “Yes. It is.”

They both let that sit for a moment, the pride and the ache of it all.

Then Emma smirked, clearly aiming for a lighter tone. “And at least now, we don’t have to pretend to be ‘co-parenting allies’ for his sake.”

Regina let out a small, amused hum. “I believe we’ve outgrown that label, yes.”

Emma lifted her beer in a mock toast. “To successfully raising a well-adjusted kid despite our many issues.”

Regina chuckled and clinked her bottle against Emma’s. “To Henry.”

They both took a sip, the moment settling between them—soft, easy, comfortable.

And maybe, just maybe, something more.

Chapter Text

It started with dinner.

After that first night, Emma continued showing up at Regina’s house with the same easy excuses—she was in the neighborhood, she had extra donuts from Granny’s, she needed to talk about some minor town issue that could have easily waited. The pattern formed so naturally that Regina barely registered it at first.

Until she did.

Because suddenly, Emma was there more often than she wasn’t.

Some nights, she came for dinner, showing up with a six-pack or a bottle of wine, grinning like she knew Regina would let her in. Other nights, she arrived later, flopping onto Regina’s couch like she belonged there, boots kicked off as she made herself comfortable.

Regina had stopped questioning it.

Because the truth was, she didn’t want to question it.

She liked having Emma there.

She liked the way the silence of the house felt different when Emma was in it—not so heavy, not so hollow. She liked the sound of Emma’s laughter drifting from the kitchen, the way she grumbled about vegetables but still ate everything Regina put in front of her. She liked the way they moved around each other without needing to speak, the quiet rhythm they had somehow fallen into, as if it had always been this way.

And maybe, maybe, she liked the way Emma looked at her sometimes—like she was trying to figure something out, like there was something unspoken between them that neither of them had dared put into words yet.

***

One evening, Regina was at the stove when Emma walked in without knocking, carrying a brown paper bag.

“I brought dessert,” she announced, holding it up. “And before you get all judgy, yes, it’s from Granny’s, and yes, it’s probably 90% sugar.”

Regina smirked, stirring the sauce in the pan. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Well.” Regina gave her a pointed look. “Perhaps I thought it.”

Emma grinned and hopped onto one of the stools by the counter, watching as Regina moved around the kitchen. It had become part of their routine—Emma arriving just in time to steal bites of whatever Regina was cooking, claiming she was “taste-testing.” Regina had long since given up on stopping her.

“You keep making dinner for two,” Emma noted, propping her chin in her hand. “Almost like you expect me to show up.”

Regina didn’t look at her, focusing instead on chopping herbs with precise movements. “Perhaps I simply enjoy being prepared.”

Emma chuckled. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

They ate together at the dining table, the conversation flowing easily, drifting between teasing banter and quiet, familiar moments. They talked about Henry—his classes, his dorm, how he was already campaigning for student government. They talked about the town, about how Snow had started some horrific committee for a town-wide pumpkin carving contest.

And when dinner was done, they migrated to the living room, settling into the couch without even discussing it.

Regina had stopped questioning that, too.

She sipped her wine as Emma flipped through the channels absently, eventually settling on some old movie. Neither of them really watched it. The room was warm, the fire casting a soft glow, and Regina felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Content.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat there in companionable silence, but at some point, she turned her head slightly, studying Emma in the dim light.

“You keep coming back,” she murmured.

Emma glanced at her, something flickering behind her eyes. “Yeah. I do.”

Regina hesitated. “Why?”

Emma didn’t answer right away. Instead, she let her gaze drop to where their hands rested between them on the couch—close but not quite touching.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, voice quieter now. “It just… feels right.”

Regina’s heart did something strange in her chest, something unexpected. But she didn’t look away.

“Does it?” she asked.

Emma nodded, her lips twitching into a small, almost hesitant smile. “Yeah. It does.”

Regina inhaled slowly, feeling the weight of those words settle around them.

Neither of them had the words for it yet, not fully. But something was shifting, slow and unspoken, in the quiet space between them.

And for now, neither of them was quite ready to stop it.

***

Regina didn’t realize how much she had come to expect Emma’s visits until one evening, Emma didn’t show up.

The house was quiet again. Too quiet.

Regina had set the table for two before catching herself, sighing as she placed the extra plate back in the cabinet. She tried not to think about the way her chest felt oddly hollow, the way she kept glancing at the clock as if Emma had simply lost track of time.

But the minutes ticked by, and the house remained empty.

It was fine, of course. Emma had no obligation to be here. Regina had never asked her to come. But that didn’t stop the irritation—the disappointment—from creeping in as she ate alone.

By the time she was washing dishes, she had nearly convinced herself it didn’t matter.

Until a knock at the door shattered that illusion.

Regina wiped her hands on a dish towel before opening it to find Emma standing there, looking sheepish, a half-eaten bag of fries in her hand.

“Hey,” Emma said. “Didn’t mean to ghost you. Got caught up at the station.”

Regina folded her arms. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Miss Swan.”

Emma grinned. “Nah, but you looked real close to pouting, so…”

Regina huffed, stepping aside to let her in. “Please. As if I would sulk over your absence.”

Emma raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. She just walked past her, kicking off her boots in the same spot she always did, heading straight for the kitchen like she lived here.

Regina shook her head, but she didn’t stop her.

She never did.

***

It became undeniable after that.

Emma wasn’t just visiting anymore. She had settled in.

She showed up nearly every night, sometimes with food, sometimes just with that easy grin and an unspoken expectation that Regina would let her in. And Regina did. Every time.

Some nights, they cooked together.

Emma was terrible at it—always sneaking bites of ingredients before Regina was ready, complaining about chopping onions, somehow managing to burn things even under direct supervision. But she tried, and Regina found herself laughing more than she had in ages.

Other nights, they did nothing at all.

They would sit on the couch, half-watching movies, sometimes talking, sometimes just existing in silence. Emma had a habit of taking up too much space, stretching out with her sock-clad feet resting on the coffee table, shifting until she was entirely comfortable. Regina should have minded.

She didn’t.

Because somehow, without either of them addressing it, Emma had become part of her routine.

Regina had never been one for unpredictability, but this—this was a shift she found herself welcoming.

She even started expecting it.

One night, Emma arrived late, looking exhausted. She dropped onto the couch with a sigh, rubbing her temples.

Regina, without thinking, handed her a glass of wine and sat beside her. “Long day?”

Emma exhaled. “You have no idea.”

And that was it. No grand conversation, no unnecessary words—just a quiet understanding as Emma relaxed into the space beside her, sipping her wine, her shoulder brushing against Regina’s.

It felt easy. It felt right.

Regina didn’t question it anymore.

And maybe—just maybe—Emma didn’t either.

***

Emma was halfway out the door of the sheriff’s station when Killian’s voice stopped her.

“Leaving early again, love?”

She paused, her hand tightening on the doorknob. With a sigh, she turned to face him, rolling her eyes at the smug look on his face. He was leaning back against her desk, arms crossed, a knowing glint in his eye.

“Yeah,” she said, keeping her tone casual. “Finished my paperwork, nothing urgent on the docket. Figured I’d call it a night.”

Killian tilted his head. “And let me guess—you’re off to Madam Mayor’s house?”

Emma gave him a look. “So what if I am?”

He smirked. “Just an observation, Swan. You’ve been awfully dedicated to spending your evenings there lately.”

Emma grabbed her jacket and shrugged it on, keeping her expression neutral. “We’re just hanging out.”

Killian hummed, unconvinced. “You mean to tell me that, out of all the places in town, Regina Mills’ home is suddenly your preferred spot for ‘hanging out’?”

Emma shot him a warning glare, but he pressed on, clearly enjoying himself.

“Not that I blame you,” he continued. “She does have excellent wine. And I imagine the home-cooked meals are a step up from your usual frozen fare.”

Emma sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Killian, is there a point to this, or are you just here to be annoying?”

He grinned. “I’m just curious, love. One minute, you’re grumbling about how the house is too quiet without Henry, the next, you’ve practically moved into Regina’s.” He raised an eyebrow. “Seems like quite the shift, wouldn’t you say?”

Emma stiffened. She knew what he was implying, what he thought was happening. But he was wrong.

Wasn’t he?

She exhaled, shaking her head. “It’s not like that.”

Killian studied her, his expression unreadable now. “Then what is it like?”

Emma opened her mouth, but no immediate answer came. Because honestly? She wasn’t sure how to explain it.

Regina’s house had become… comfortable. Familiar. It was where she wanted to be at the end of the day, where she felt at ease in a way she hadn’t expected. But there was no grand reason for it.

At least, not one she was ready to admit.

“It’s nothing,” she said finally, brushing past him toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

But as she walked out into the cool evening air, heading toward the place that had somehow become her second home, Killian’s words stuck with her.

And for the first time, she let herself wonder if maybe there was more to this than she’d been willing to see.

***

Emma hesitated at Regina’s doorstep for the first time in weeks.

She had gotten too comfortable with this—just showing up, making herself at home, slipping into Regina’s life like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was, but after Killian’s little interrogation earlier, she couldn’t shake the thought that she might be pushing things too far.

So this time, instead of just walking in, she knocked.

Regina answered the door quickly, her eyebrows pulling together in mild surprise. “You knocked.”

Emma smirked. “Yeah, figured I’d switch it up.”

Regina rolled her eyes but stepped aside to let her in. Emma followed her into the kitchen, where the scent of something warm and savory lingered in the air. She spotted two plates on the counter, one already dished up, and couldn’t help but grin.

“You made enough for two again,” she teased, nudging Regina lightly with her elbow.

Regina huffed, turning to the fridge as if to busy herself. “I told you, I prefer to be prepared.”

Emma leaned against the counter, watching her. There was something really amusing about how stubborn Regina was—about how she clearly enjoyed their routine but would never admit it outright.

Which brought Emma back to why she had hesitated at the door in the first place.

She exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. “Hey, so… I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Regina arched an eyebrow. “That sounds ominous.”

Emma chuckled. “It’s not. Just—” She hesitated, then decided to just go for it. “Am I overstepping?”

Regina frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

Emma gestured vaguely. “This. Me. Showing up here all the time, taking up space in your house, eating your food—”

“And drinking my wine,” Regina cut in.

Emma grinned. “And drinking your very expensive wine.”

Regina sighed, but there was no real irritation in it. She crossed her arms, tilting her head as she studied Emma. “Why are you asking this now?”

Emma shrugged. “Just… wondering if I’ve been pushing boundaries without realizing it.”

Regina was quiet for a moment, her gaze flickering over Emma’s face as if searching for something. Then, with a small sigh, she turned back to the counter, picking up her glass of wine.

“You’re not,” she admitted, voice softer now. “Overstepping.”

Emma’s lips twitched. “Yeah?”

Regina gave her a pointed look, clearly regretting her honesty already. “Yes. Clearly, you are determined to take over my evenings regardless, so I see little point in protesting.”

Emma grinned, crossing her arms. “So you like having me around.”

Regina huffed, lifting her wine to her lips. “I tolerate you.”

Emma chuckled, but she didn’t push further. Because that—coming from Regina Mills—was as good as a confession.

And as she took her usual seat at the table, watching Regina try way too hard to act unaffected, she couldn’t help but feel a little smug about it.

***

Emma was feeling bold.

After Regina’s reluctant admission that she tolerated her company (which, in Regina-speak, basically meant I enjoy having you around but will die before I say it out loud), Emma had decided to have a little fun with it.

So as they sat at the dinner table, the usual warmth of their shared meal settling between them, she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, and smirked.

“So,” she drawled, “just to clarify—I’m allowed to keep showing up?”

Regina sighed dramatically, setting down her fork with deliberate patience. “Clearly, there’s no stopping you.”

Emma grinned. “That’s not an answer.”

Regina took a sip of her wine before leveling Emma with an unimpressed stare. “Do you require a formal invitation?”

Emma tapped her chin, pretending to consider. “I would appreciate something in writing. Maybe a signed contract stating that I am, in fact, welcome here and not just some stray you forgot to shoo away.”

Regina gave a slow blink, the Regina Mills patented look of exasperation. “You are, at best, an adopted stray.”

Emma feigned offense. “Adopted? Oh, so I’m part of the household now? Should I start paying rent?”

Regina scoffed. “Please. As if you could afford my standards.”

Emma gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “Wow. You really know how to make a girl feel wanted.”

Regina arched a brow, smirking just slightly. “If you required constant validation, dear, I suspect you’d have stopped coming around long ago.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “Okay, that’s a little too accurate. I don’t like that you know me so well.”

Regina smirked, taking another sip of wine. “A tragic consequence of our many years of entanglement.”

Emma waggled her eyebrows. “Entanglement, huh? Sounds scandalous.”

Regina rolled her eyes but didn’t hide the amused twitch of her lips. “You would make it sound inappropriate.”

Emma grinned, enjoying every second of this. “I mean, you said it, not me.”

Regina gave an overly dramatic sigh, shaking her head as if put upon. But Emma could see it—the slight flush on her cheeks, the way her posture had eased, the way the warmth between them was shifting into something more.

And yeah, maybe she was pushing her luck. But the playful back-and-forth, the teasing, the unspoken thing growing between them—it was addicting.

So she leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. “So, about that contract…”

Regina shot her a dry look. “I will throw you out.”

Emma smirked. “You could try.”

Regina sipped her wine, gaze steady. “I would succeed.”

Emma chuckled, shaking her head. “You like me, Mills.”

Regina tilted her head, eyes glinting with challenge. “Debatable.”

Emma grinned, raising her glass in a toast. “To ongoing debates.”

Regina sighed, but after a long moment, clinked her glass against Emma’s. “To tolerating you.”

Emma chuckled, taking a sip of wine.

And as the night stretched on, filled with laughter and bickering and something warm and unspoken between them, she realized she never wanted this to end.

Chapter Text

The storm rolled in fast.

One minute, the town was settling into a quiet evening, and the next, the sky had opened up with a fury—sheets of rain pounding against the pavement, wind rattling windows, thunder cracking so loud it shook the ground.

Emma had been at the sheriff’s station, finishing up some reports, when the power flickered once, then cut out entirely. She swore under her breath, grabbing her flashlight and phone. The backup generators had kicked in, but most of Storybrooke was left in darkness.

Her fingers moved before she could second-guess it, pulling up a familiar contact.

Emma: You good?

No response.

Emma frowned, waiting a moment before pocketing her phone and grabbing her keys. It wasn’t like Regina to ignore a text. Maybe she was just reading in front of the fire, perfectly fine—but Emma knew better.

Regina hated storms.

She hated the dark.

And despite how composed she always tried to appear, Emma knew that nights like this unsettled her more than she’d ever admit.

So she wasn’t about to sit around and hope Regina was okay.

She was going to check.

By the time Emma pulled up to Regina’s house, the storm was in full force. Rain pounded against her windshield, lightning flashed across the sky, and the wind howled through the trees lining the estate. The entire house was dark, save for the faint glow of candlelight flickering through the living room window.

Emma grabbed her flashlight, bolted from the car, and ran up the front steps, pounding on the door.

“Regina?” she called over the storm.

There was no immediate answer, but after a few seconds, she heard the lock click. The door creaked open, revealing Regina standing there, wrapped in a thick sweater, a single candle flickering in her hand.

She looked annoyed—but Emma knew her well enough to see the tension in her shoulders, the way her grip on the candle was just a little too tight.

“You didn’t answer my text,” Emma said, stepping inside and shaking the rain from her jacket.

Regina huffed, closing the door behind her. “Forgive me for not being glued to my phone during a power outage.”

Emma smirked. “You say that, but I know you have at least three emergency power banks.”

Regina gave her a withering look before turning toward the living room, candlelight casting warm shadows along the walls. Emma followed, taking in the scene—several more candles were placed on the coffee table, their soft glow barely pushing back the darkness. A book lay open on the armrest, abandoned.

Regina sat on the couch with forced nonchalance, picking up her wine glass. “As you can see, I’m perfectly fine.”

Emma crossed her arms. “You hate storms.”

Regina sniffed. “I dislike them.”

Emma arched an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And the fact that you jumped a little when I knocked?”

Regina shot her a glare. “I did not.”

Emma smirked, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she toed off her boots and flopped onto the couch beside Regina, making herself comfortable.

Regina eyed her suspiciously. “Are you planning to stay?”

Emma shrugged. “Figured I’d keep you company. Y’know, in case the Big Bad Storm gets worse.”

Regina sighed dramatically, taking another sip of wine. “This is ridiculous.”

Emma grinned. “But you want me to stay.”

Regina exhaled, staring at the storm raging outside the window. Lightning flashed, followed almost immediately by a deep rumble of thunder. Emma didn’t miss the way Regina’s fingers tightened slightly around her glass.

After a long pause, Regina muttered, “Tolerate is the word we’ve agreed upon.”

Emma chuckled. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The fire crackled, the candlelight flickered, and outside, the storm raged on.

Emma stretched her arm across the back of the couch, letting her fingers rest just barely behind Regina’s shoulders. Not touching, not quite—but close enough that if Regina wanted to lean in, she could.

Regina didn’t move.

But she didn’t pull away either.

And in the dim glow of candlelight, with the storm roaring outside, Emma thought maybe—just maybe—they were both starting to realize something neither of them was ready to say out loud yet.

***

The storm howled outside, but inside Regina’s living room, the world felt strangely still. The wind rattled the windows, the flames in the fireplace danced softly, casting flickering shadows across the walls, and the faint scent of wine mixed with the warmth of the fire.

Emma sat on the plush rug by the hearth, her legs stretched out, a glass of red wine cradled in her hand. Regina had taken the chair next to her, legs crossed, her wine glass held with a graceful but relaxed air, as if, for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t worrying about keeping up appearances.

They’d sat in comfortable silence for a while, neither of them needing to fill the space with words. The storm outside was loud enough to drown out any lingering tension between them, and for once, it felt okay to simply be.

Regina’s voice broke the silence, quiet but heavy with something Emma couldn’t quite place. “I miss him,” she said softly, her eyes fixed on the fire.

Emma nodded, her gaze softening. “I know.”

Regina took a slow sip of her wine, her eyes still on the flames. “It’s strange. Having him gone. The house feels…” She trailed off, as if searching for the right word. “Empty. Even though I know it’s the right thing, him going to college. He’s grown up, and I’m proud of him. But still… it’s different.”

Emma set her glass down beside her, watching Regina’s profile. There was something vulnerable in the way she spoke, something that didn’t quite fit with the fierce, independent woman Emma had always known. It was the soft edge of a mother, one who had spent years taking care of her child, guiding him, watching him grow into someone she could be proud of—but still feeling the tug of loss when he left.

“I get it,” Emma said quietly. “Henry is way more independent than he was even a year ago. He doesn’t need me in the same way anymore.” She paused, smiling softly to herself. “But I’m proud of him too. It’s just… weird, right?”

Regina looked at her then, eyes softening in a way Emma wasn’t used to seeing. “You’re a good mother, Emma.”

Emma blinked, surprised by the words, but not in the way she would have expected. “I—” She stopped herself, unsure of how to respond. “I try. But I’m not the perfect mom, you know? Not like you were to him. I was always a little… lost.”

Regina gave her a small smile. “We all were, in our own way. Even Henry. We figured it out.”

Emma leaned back on her hands, glancing at the fire as if she could focus on it and not on the weight of Regina’s words. The warmth from the fire and the wine mixed together, spreading a comfortable glow through her chest. It was the kind of night that made it easy to forget the world outside, easy to let the quiet seep in.

“I never really got the chance to talk to you about everything,” Emma said after a long beat. Her tone was casual, but there was an underlying truth she couldn’t ignore. “When we were busy running after Henry, trying to get everything right… I never asked how you were. About how it felt for you, when everything changed.”

Regina turned her head toward her, expression unreadable for a moment, before her lips curled upward just slightly. “I think I might have been too focused on my own struggles to make room for yours.”

Emma smiled, a little awkwardly, but with understanding. “Yeah, we were both a little busy, huh?”

Regina nodded, her fingers tapping gently against the stem of her wine glass. “I don’t think I ever really let myself process everything that happened. The curse, the battles and everything that came after. I was so busy being the ‘strong one,’ the ‘perfect’ one, that I didn’t stop to think about what it all meant.”

Emma’s brow furrowed, her voice quiet as she asked, “Do you ever regret it?”

Regina’s gaze flickered toward the fire again, and she exhaled, a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. “No. I don’t regret any of it. It was… hard, but I think I needed to experience all of it. Even the mistakes.” She paused, turning to look at Emma fully, her gaze steady and honest. “But I did miss a lot. I didn’t know how to… be sometimes. To just let myself feel. I was so caught up in being the person everyone needed me to be.”

Emma swallowed, sensing the weight of Regina’s words. It wasn’t often she heard Regina speak so openly. So softly.

“Do you ever feel… lost?” Emma asked, her voice low, hesitant. “Like, now that Henry’s gone, and everything’s quieter, and things are just… different?”

Regina didn’t immediately answer, and for a moment, Emma was afraid she’d said too much. But then Regina leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, looking down at her wine glass.

“I do,” Regina admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’ve spent so much of my life trying to fix things for others, trying to fix myself, that now I’m not sure what comes next.”

There was a long silence, one where neither of them spoke, and yet it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Just… honest.

Emma was about to speak when Regina’s voice broke through again, quieter than before.

“You never gave up, though. Not on Henry, and not on me. And I think… I think that’s something I never really let myself believe I deserved.”

Emma’s heart squeezed in her chest. She reached over, just barely brushing Regina’s hand with her fingertips, and the contact was so small, so casual, and yet it held the weight of everything unspoken.

“I never gave up because I believed in you,” Emma said softly, eyes meeting Regina’s. “I always have. Even when I didn’t say it.”

For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them thick with something gentle, reflective.

Regina’s lips curled upward, the first real smile Emma had seen from her in a while. “Well. I’m glad someone does.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the fire, the storm raging outside, Emma realized that this—this—was what it felt like to share something truly meaningful. Not just words, but quiet moments, when everything else faded away, and they were just… two people, simply being.

***

The fire crackled softly in the background, casting a golden glow across the room. The warmth seeped into Emma’s skin, mixing with the pleasant buzz of wine, making her feel lighter, more at ease than she had in a long time. She stretched her legs out across the rug, rolling her wineglass between her fingers, and let out a contented sigh.

“You know,” she mused, tilting her head toward Regina, “I think I could get used to this.”

Regina, perched elegantly on the couch with her own glass of wine, arched an eyebrow. “Used to what, exactly?”

Emma gestured lazily around the dimly lit room. “This. The quiet. The not constantly running around dealing with disasters. Just… being here. With you.”

Regina hummed, taking a slow sip of her wine. “That’s because you don’t have a fundamental need to control everything,” she muttered, though there was no real bite to her words.

Emma smirked. “No, but you do. And yet, here you are, relaxing by the fire with me. Which means you must like it at least a little.”

Regina scoffed, but Emma caught the way her lips twitched, like she was fighting off a smile. “I wouldn’t go that far,” she said primly.

Emma grinned, shifting so she could lean back against the couch beside Regina’s legs. “You can pretend all you want, but I know you. You’re actually enjoying this.”

Regina rolled her eyes, but her fingers absentmindedly brushed through Emma’s hair, a soft, unconscious motion that betrayed her. “Fine,” she relented after a moment, exhaling. “It’s… not terrible.”

Emma laughed. “High praise coming from you.”

Regina shook her head, but there was a warmth in her gaze as she looked down at Emma, something unspoken but unmistakable. “It’s just different,” she admitted. “I spent so many years filling every second of my life with responsibility, with control, with… purpose. And now that things are quieter, I’m realizing I never really learned how to just be.”

Emma reached up, taking Regina’s free hand in hers and lacing their fingers together. “Then maybe it’s time to learn,” she said softly. “Together.”

Regina studied her for a long moment, then—finally, begrudgingly—nodded. “Together,” she echoed, giving Emma’s hand the faintest squeeze.

Emma grinned and took a sip of her wine. “See? I knew you were enjoying this.”

Regina sighed dramatically but didn’t let go of Emma’s hand. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here we are,” Emma teased, leaning her head back against Regina’s thigh, eyes slipping shut, completely at ease.

Regina huffed, but she didn’t move away. Instead, she let her fingers continue their slow, absentminded path through Emma’s hair, the fire flickering beside them, filling the room with nothing but warmth.

The fire had burned low, casting flickering shadows along the walls. The wine in Emma’s glass was nearly gone, her body pleasantly warm and relaxed from the quiet evening. She could feel the steady rhythm of Regina’s fingers still combing lightly through her hair, and if she weren’t careful, she might actually fall asleep right there on the rug.

A soft exhale came from above her, and then Regina’s voice—quiet, almost hesitant—broke the silence.

“I’m going to bed,” she murmured, the words brushing over Emma’s skin like the warmth of the fire.

Emma cracked an eye open, tilting her head up slightly. “Yeah?”

Regina hesitated just a second longer than usual before adding, “The spare room is free… if you desire to stay the night.”

Emma blinked, the invitation settling between them like something fragile and unspoken.

Regina was already rising from the couch, carefully placing her empty wineglass on the side table. She smoothed out the hem of her pajama top—a nervous gesture, Emma realized—and turned toward the hallway. But before she could take another step, Emma reached out, wrapping her fingers gently around Regina’s wrist.

“Regina.”

Regina stilled.

Emma squeezed lightly. “Thanks.”

Regina didn’t look back, but Emma caught the way her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. “Goodnight, Miss Swan,” she said, and then she was gone, disappearing down the hall.

Emma sat there for a moment, staring after her, a small smile tugging at her lips. She exhaled slowly, shaking her head before standing, stretching out her limbs.

She wasn’t sure what it meant—Regina’s offer, the way she’d said it—but she did know one thing.

She wasn’t going anywhere tonight.

***

The storm had worsened as the night stretched on, rain hammering against the windows, wind howling through the trees. The occasional rumble of thunder shook the house, and Regina, found herself startled awake by a particularly loud crack of lightning.

She sat up in bed, heart pounding as she listened to the storm rage outside. The house felt unsettlingly quiet, save for the sound of the wind rattling the windows. Regina exhaled slowly, running a hand through her hair, willing herself to relax.

Then she felt it—the unease curling in her stomach, the realization that she wasn’t alone in the house. Emma.

She hesitated for only a moment before shifting the blankets off her legs, intending to check on her guest. But just as she swung her feet onto the floor, there was a soft knock at her bedroom door.

Regina’s breath hitched. She wasn’t sure why, but she suddenly felt oddly unprepared.

“Come in,” she called, keeping her voice even despite the odd flutter in her chest.

The door cracked open, and there stood Emma, bathed in the dim glow of the hallway light.

Regina’s lips parted slightly at the sight—Emma in nothing but a white tank top and a pair of red underwear, her hair tousled from sleep, her expression sheepish yet laced with concern.

“Hey,” Emma said softly. “You okay?”

Regina took a second too long to respond, her mind catching up to the moment. She cleared her throat, willing herself to focus. “I—yes. The storm woke me.”

Emma leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms loosely over her chest. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad out there.” She hesitated, tilting her head slightly. “I, uh… wasn’t sure if you’d be alright, so I figured I’d check.”

Regina stared at her for a beat, caught somewhere between amusement and something deeper, something warmer. “You came to check on me?”

Emma gave a half-smirk, a little self-conscious. “Well, yeah.”

Something in Regina softened at that.

She could have brushed it off, could have waved Emma away and insisted she was fine. But instead, she found herself shifting slightly, scooting over on the bed as she exhaled.

“Well,” she said, quieter now. “Since you’re here…”

Emma blinked.

Regina looked away, feigning nonchalance as she plucked at the edge of her blanket. “You might as well stay.”

There was a beat of silence, then the soft shuffle of Emma’s bare feet against the floor. Regina didn’t look up, not even when she felt the mattress dip beside her, when Emma settled in just a breath away.

But she did let herself relax again, the warmth of Emma’s presence enough to chase away the unease the storm had left behind.

***

Regina lay rigid in the dark, staring at the ceiling, as the storm outside raged on. The wind howled, and each crack of thunder sent vibrations through the house. Despite her best efforts to stay composed, she could feel her heart rate quickening, a sense of unease crawling up her spine.

She’d always been terrified of storms. Always. It was one of those childhood fears that never really went away, no matter how many years passed. In her mind, the storms were never just bad weather—they were the universe’s way of reminding her that things were out of control. And that was a lesson she never liked to learn.

The wind picked up, whistling past the windows like a ghost, and another loud boom of thunder cracked overhead. This one was so close that the house shook, and Regina flinched, her pulse hammering in her throat. Her body tensed, fighting the instinct to curl into a ball, to block out the world.

But she couldn’t do that. Not now. Not with Emma just beside her.

Regina glanced over at Emma, who was lying sound asleep, unaware of the turmoil swirling in Regina’s chest. She considered waking her up, but the thought of being seen as weak, of admitting to Emma just how terrified she was of something so trivial—something so childish—felt like an insurmountable hurdle.

But when the next wave of thunder hit, rattling the house again, Regina’s resolve cracked.

With a small, involuntary gasp, she turned toward Emma and reached out. Without thinking, she pressed herself against Emma, her fingers gripping the fabric of Emma’s shirt as she buried her face against her shoulder.

Emma stirred, blinking up at her in the darkness, clearly startled by the sudden proximity. “Regina?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep, but also laced with concern.

Regina’s breath came out in shallow bursts, her heart still racing. “I… I don’t like storms,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. She hated how small and vulnerable she sounded, but the fear—the terror—was too overwhelming to hide.

Emma didn’t say anything right away. Instead, she shifted, her arm slipping around Regina’s waist as she pulled her closer, offering warmth and comfort without hesitation. “Hey, it’s okay,” Emma murmured, her tone calm, almost soothing. “I’ve got you.”

Regina felt a tremor pass through her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will the fear away. Emma’s steady breath, the reassuring weight of her arm around her, was the only thing grounding her in that moment. She focused on that, not the storm that howled just outside the walls.

Another boom of thunder shook the room, and Regina tensed again, but this time Emma tightened her hold. “You’re safe,” Emma said softly. “I’m right here. Nothing’s going to happen.”

The quiet strength in Emma’s voice made something inside Regina shift, and though her hands were still trembling, she felt a slight sense of calm begin to settle over her. Emma’s presence was a balm to her frayed nerves, something Regina hadn’t even realized she needed until that very moment.

“I’m sorry,” Regina whispered, her voice thick with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Emma’s response was simple but effective. “You don’t have to apologize,” she said, her fingers brushing soothing circles against Regina’s back. “You can wake me up anytime. I’ll always be here.”

For the first time in a long while, Regina allowed herself to close her eyes, breathing in the comfort of Emma’s warmth, letting the sound of her heartbeat and the quiet rhythm of Emma’s breathing calm her.

The storm raged on outside, but for Regina, with Emma beside her, it didn’t seem so terrifying anymore.

Chapter Text

Regina’s eyes fluttered open to the soft light filtering through the curtains, the kind of gentle morning glow that promised a calm start to the day. The house was quiet—no clatter of dishes, no hum of early morning activity. Just silence, warm and still.

She stretched beneath the covers, the sheets cool against her skin, and then it hit her—Emma.

The previous night rushed back in pieces: the storm, the way she had instinctively reached for Emma in the dark, the way Emma had held her without hesitation. Regina wasn’t used to needing comfort, and even less used to accepting it. But last night, she had.

And now, Emma was still here.

Turning her head, Regina’s gaze landed on the blonde beside her. Emma lay on her stomach, her face turned toward Regina, hair falling in loose waves across the pillow. The soft rise and fall of her breath, the way her lips were slightly parted, the utter stillness of her—it was almost disarming.

Regina didn’t often wake up to someone beside her. Not like this. Not in a way that felt… safe. Familiar. Right.

Something warm curled in her chest, and for a moment, she allowed herself the indulgence of simply watching Emma sleep. She looked so peaceful, so at ease, as if this bed, this home, this space, was as much hers as it was Regina’s. The thought sent an unfamiliar flutter through Regina’s stomach, something she wasn’t quite ready to name.

Emma stirred slightly, shifting under the covers, her fingers grazing the space between them. Regina tensed for a moment, waiting to see if she would wake, but Emma simply sighed and settled deeper into the pillows.

Regina exhaled, forcing herself to move. Carefully, she slipped out of bed, making sure not to jostle Emma too much. The room felt warmer than usual, not just from the lingering heat of the storm outside but from the quiet presence of the woman still tangled in her sheets.

Padding into the kitchen, Regina moved on autopilot, pulling out eggs, fresh bread, and fruit for breakfast. But even as she cracked eggs into the pan, she couldn’t shake the image of Emma in her bed—so comfortable, so effortlessly woven into the fabric of Regina’s life.

And for the first time in a long while, the thought didn’t scare her.

She turned on the stove, the soft crackling of bacon filling the quiet kitchen. Her hands moved swiftly, chopping vegetables and preparing the ingredients for a meal that she would have normally cooked for herself, but this time, there was something almost deliberate about it.

When she set the table, the question floated through her mind before she could even process it: Why am I preparing breakfast for two?

Without thinking, she set out two cups of coffee, two plates, two forks, and two glasses of juice. She paused for a moment, standing in the middle of the kitchen and glanced up at her ceiling, thinking of the blonde still asleep in her bed. Regina’s heart skipped again, and the thought hit her harder than she expected: This feels… right.

The table was set. Everything was in place, ready for a meal they’d share, even though neither of them had said a word about it. It wasn’t as if they had formalized anything—nothing had been acknowledged or labeled, and yet, there was a subtle shift in their dynamic.

Regina exhaled slowly, wiping her hands on the dishtowel before making her way back up the stairs. The house was quiet now, the worst of the storm having passed, leaving only the occasional distant rumble of thunder. As she reached the bedroom door, she hesitated for just a moment before stepping inside.

Emma was still asleep, sprawled across the bed, tangled in the sheets. One arm was tucked beneath the pillow, the other resting lazily across the mattress. Her golden hair was a mess, and her face was slack with deep sleep, the kind Regina wasn’t sure she often got. Something about the sight made warmth bloom in Regina’s chest—an unfamiliar but not unwelcome feeling.

For a fleeting second, she thought about letting Emma sleep. But then she reminded herself that Emma wasn’t a guest here, not really. She was something more than that now. And the idea of sharing breakfast together, just the two of them, felt… nice.

So, instead of second-guessing herself, she stepped closer and reached out, fingers grazing Emma’s shoulder. “Emma,” she murmured, her voice softer than she intended. “Wake up.”

Emma groaned lightly, shifting but not fully waking. Regina rolled her eyes, lips twitching. “Come on, you’re not that tired.”

Emma cracked one eye open, squinting at her. “Five more minutes,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep as she buried her face in the pillow.

Regina huffed, shaking her head. “I made breakfast.”

Emma’s brows lifted slightly, eyes still heavy with sleep but now tinged with amusement. “You? Made breakfast?”

Regina lifted her chin. “Yes, well, miracles do happen.”

Emma chuckled sleepily, stretching before finally tossing the blankets aside. The moment she moved, Regina’s face heated as she realized Emma was still just in her tank top and red underwear from the night before.

Regina averted her gaze, clearing her throat. “Perhaps you should… put your jeans back on.”

Emma grinned, entirely too pleased with herself. “Why? Distracted, Your Majesty?”

Regina scowled, though the pink dusting her cheeks betrayed her. “Hardly. I simply prefer my breakfast without unnecessary… indecency.”

Emma smirked, making no move to hurry as she grabbed her jeans from the floor. “Mmm-hmm. Sure.”

Regina turned swiftly, heading for the door before Emma could see how much her face had flushed. “Just—hurry up,” she called over her shoulder.

Emma laughed softly as she pulled her jeans on, following after her a moment later.

***

As they sat down at the table, both of them pouring coffee and digging into the food Regina had prepared, the silence felt comfortable—natural. There was no need for words, not yet. They didn’t need to name the quiet moments that passed between them, the tension or the unspoken understanding.

But the more they shared these simple moments, these quiet times, the more Regina found herself wondering if the space between them wasn’t so much a distance but a space waiting to be filled.

Maybe with words. Maybe with something more.

But for now, they were just two women, sitting across from one another at a table, eating breakfast together, and letting the world outside the walls of Regina’s house continue to spin without them. For once, that was enough.

***

The day had gone by in a blur of emails, phone calls, and emergency meetings. After the storm had rolled through town, Regina and Emma found themselves swept into a whirlwind of responsibilities, their usual quiet connection replaced by a renewed sense of purpose. Both of them had been called in to city hall to help oversee the damage control efforts. Regina, always the pragmatic one, was in charge of managing the infrastructure and repairs, while Emma was coordinating the efforts of the local volunteers. It was a familiar dynamic—each of them taking on a role they excelled at—but there was something different about this day. There was a quiet sense of camaraderie between them that hadn’t been there before, a subtle shift in the air that they both seemed to be acknowledging without speaking it aloud.

As they walked out of the town hall after their respective meetings, Regina and Emma exchanged brief glances. They both understood the enormity of the task ahead of them. The storm had caused a lot of damage, and it would take days, maybe weeks, to fix everything.

“We’ve got our work cut out for us,” Emma remarked, her voice filled with both determination and exhaustion.

Regina nodded, adjusting her coat against the crisp evening air. “We do. But we’ll manage. We always do.”

Emma gave her a small smile, her eyes softening as they met Regina’s. “That’s true. We’ve gotten through worse.”

Regina’s heart skipped at the unspoken meaning behind Emma’s words. They hadn’t faced this particular challenge before, but there had always been a quiet understanding between them, a bond forged through shared experiences and unspoken support. It was moments like these that made Regina feel like maybe there was more to their connection than she had ever allowed herself to acknowledge.

As they reached the sidewalk, preparing to part ways to tend to their respective tasks, Regina hesitated for just a moment. Then, almost without thinking, she spoke.

“I’ll be serving beef stew for dinner tonight, if you’re interested. You’re always welcome to join me.”

The words tumbled out of her mouth so casually, almost as if they had been a part of her routine all along, and yet there was a warmth to them that surprised even her. She didn’t typically invite people over without giving it much thought, but something about Emma’s presence in her life felt like it had evolved beyond mere friendship.

Emma, always quick to respond, gave Regina a grin that made her heart flutter unexpectedly. “Beef stew, huh?” she said, a playful glint in her eyes. “That sounds incredible. I can’t wait.”

Regina’s heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in Emma’s voice. It was such a simple exchange, but it felt loaded in ways that Regina couldn’t quite explain. She couldn’t help but feel the sudden rush of anticipation for the evening, knowing that, for some reason, it would be more than just another meal shared between them. There was something unspoken hanging between them, and as much as Regina tried to brush it aside, it was impossible to ignore.

“Good,” Regina replied, her voice softer than she intended. “I’ll make sure it’s ready by the time you’re done for the day.”

Emma’s smile lingered for a moment longer, and she nodded. “I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it.”

The two of them stood there for a heartbeat longer than was necessary, their eyes locking for just a split second before Emma cleared her throat, her smile widening. “I should get going. I’ve got a mountain of work to do. But I’ll see you tonight, Regina.”

Regina nodded, watching as Emma turned and walked toward her car, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the quiet evening. For a brief moment, Regina stood still, her thoughts swirling. The invitation had been casual, just a part of the routine, but there was a weight to it now, a charge in the air that made her wonder if Emma felt the same subtle shift in their dynamic.

As she watched Emma drive off, Regina turned back toward her own car, her chest tight with anticipation. The day had been long, the work never-ending, but she found herself looking forward to tonight in a way she hadn’t expected. The warmth of the stew, the soft flicker of the firelight, and the sound of Emma’s voice would fill the empty spaces in her house. But more than that, there was a quiet hope in Regina’s heart—a hope she wasn’t quite ready to admit—that tonight could be more than just another evening between two friends.

It could be the beginning of something new. Something that felt right, in a way Regina couldn’t yet put into words.

For now, though, she would wait and let the evening unfold.

Chapter Text

The town square of Storybrooke was bustling as usual on a crisp Saturday morning. The fall chill had settled into the air, and the streets were dotted with townsfolk going about their business, some stopping by Granny’s diner for a warm cup of coffee or a quick breakfast. Regina had been making her rounds, ensuring the repairs were progressing smoothly after the storm, when she found herself, quite unexpectedly, heading toward the diner.

She hadn’t meant to stop. But she found herself drawn to the familiar warmth of the place. And there was the faintest possibility—she wouldn’t admit it aloud, of course—that she was hoping to see someone.

As she pushed open the diner door, the familiar clink of the bell above greeted her, and the comforting aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee hit her senses. Her eyes immediately scanned the small room, and there, sitting by the window, was Emma, looking effortlessly casual in her leather jacket, a cup of hot chocolate in hand.

Regina’s heart gave a little flutter, but she quickly quelled the feeling, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. She’d come to check in with the workers, and maybe grab a coffee to go.

Before she could approach, however, Snow—who was seated at the counter—noticed her first. Snow’s eyes lit up with a mischievous glint, and she raised an eyebrow at Regina as she approached.

“So,” Snow started, her voice light but teasing, “I see someone’s got another special dinner tonight.” She gestured toward Emma with a knowing smile. “That’s sweet of you, inviting her over now that Henry’s gone away, it’s so sweet to see you both still connected...unless of course there’s something…more going on?”!

Regina felt a heat rise to her cheeks, and she gave Snow a glare, trying to mask the sudden unease. “It’s just dinner,” Regina replied coolly, her voice betraying a slight nervousness she hadn’t anticipated. “We’re friends, Snow.”

Snow smirked, clearly not fooled by Regina’s quick response. She leaned in closer. “Uh-huh. Sure. Just friends who cook dinner for each other, spend time together every day, and share moments in front of the fire on stormy nights.” Snow’s smile widened, clearly enjoying teasing her. “It’s really just dinner, huh?”

Regina cleared her throat, shifting her gaze toward Emma, who was now looking at them curiously. “You seem to have a very active imagination, Snow,” Regina said, giving her a tight smile. “I’m just checking on some things. And Emma is helping with the cleanup.”

“Mm-hmm,” Snow responded, her grin only widening. “If you say so. But I’ll keep my eye on you two.” Snow’s voice lowered to a more playful whisper, but it was loud enough for Regina to hear. “I’ve got a feeling things might be changing.”

Regina opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Granny, who had been working behind the counter, approached Emma’s table with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, a knowing smile playing at her lips.

“Emma, honey,” Granny said with a wink, “I’ve got a fresh cup of cocoa for you—on the house.” She set the cup down in front of Emma, her eyes twinkling. “You’ve been working hard lately, and I thought you might appreciate a little extra fuel for the day. Plus, it’s always nice when someone drops by so often.”

Emma looked up at Granny, clearly surprised but pleased by the gesture. “Uh, thanks, Granny,” she said with a soft laugh, clearly unsure of how to take the sudden attention.

Granny leaned in just a little, her voice lowering in a conspiratorial tone. “You know, you and Regina have been spending a lot of time together lately. I have to say, I think it’s a good thing. A very good thing.”

Emma’s cheeks flushed a little as she raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean by that?” she asked, trying to deflect the attention.

“Oh, nothing,” Granny said with a twinkle in her eye, “I’m just saying. You two make a great team. And, well, she’s definitely been a lot nicer since you two shacked up.” Granny gave Emma a pointed look before turning back to her work, leaving Emma to sip her coffee, still processing what had just happened.

Emma’s gaze shifted back to Regina, who was standing awkwardly by the counter, clearly avoiding her eyes. Emma smiled, watching her for a moment before standing up and walking over to where Regina was standing. “So, is it just me, or do you feel like we’re being watched?”

Regina’s cheeks flushed pink, and she immediately turned her attention to the counter, pretending to examine the coffee cup in her hand as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. “Don’t pay attention to them,” Regina muttered, clearly embarrassed. “They have a habit of… jumping to conclusions.”

Emma chuckled, leaning a little closer. “What conclusions are they jumping to, exactly?” She asked, her voice teasing but gentle.

Regina gave her a sideways glance, her tone stiff but affectionate. “That maybe we’re… more than just friends.” She shook her head, her smile turning into a small, self-deprecating one. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors around town.”

Emma took a deep breath, trying to keep the playful mood. “I mean we are, Mills.” Emma bumped her shoulder playfully. “We’re best friends.” 

Regina rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress the quiet smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. She looked at Emma for a long moment, unsure of what to say. There was a weight to Emma’s words, a tenderness there that made Regina’s chest tighten. The dynamic between them was undeniable, and though neither of them had named it yet, it was becoming harder to pretend it was just casual.

“Yes, well that may be so,” Regina said, breaking the moment and turning away, “Let’s focus on the task at hand. We still have a lot of work to do.”

Emma followed her with a grin, clearly not ready to let the moment go. “You’re right,” she said. “But I’ll be over for dinner tonight, whether or not the whole town knows about it.”

Regina chuckled softly, glancing over her shoulder with a teasing smile. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, then.”

As they stepped outside, side by side, Regina couldn’t help but feel a small, almost shy flutter in her chest. It wasn’t just the storm or the work they were doing anymore—it was something deeper, something undeniable. And now, it seemed, the whole town was starting to notice it, too.

***

The house was unusually quiet. The rhythmic tick of the clock on the mantle was the loudest sound in the living room, and for the first time in a long while, Regina found herself staring at the space in front of her, feeling the weight of the silence. It wasn’t just the absence of Henry, though that was certainly a factor. No, it was the strange sense of longing she hadn’t expected to feel, especially when the house was empty. There was something else there too, something unspoken—something that made the quiet seem… different.

She had spent much of the morning cleaning, organizing, anything to fill the space and occupy her mind. And now, she found herself standing in front of the window, looking out at the autumn leaves fluttering in the breeze. It wasn’t until her phone buzzed on the counter, the familiar ringtone of her son’s name flashing across the screen, that she allowed herself to snap out of her thoughts.

Henry.

She picked up the phone quickly, her voice warmer than she expected. “Hey, Henry. How’s everything going?”

“Hey, Mom!” His voice came through with his usual enthusiasm, but there was something about it that felt just a little distant, like there was a layer of something she couldn’t quite get through. “Everything’s great! College is… amazing, honestly. I love it here. The classes, the people, it’s all just—yeah, everything’s better than I thought.”

Regina smiled softly, trying to match his upbeat energy. “I’m glad to hear it. I knew you’d thrive there.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and Regina could hear the sound of something in the background, maybe music or chatter. She realized with a small pang that Henry wasn’t in his room, the familiar sound of his voice echoing through their house wasn’t there, and it felt… different. The distance between them felt more real now.

“You’re doing okay, right?” Regina asked, forcing a bit more warmth into her tone. “I mean, you’re adjusting, taking care of yourself?”

“Yeah, totally,” Henry replied quickly. “I’m getting into a rhythm now. It’s been a little overwhelming, but I think I’ve got it all figured out. You know how I am.” He laughed lightly, but it was distant, too.

Regina nodded, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “I know. I’m proud of you, Henry.”

Another silence stretched between them, this one more uncomfortable than the last. It was an unfamiliar silence, one that hadn’t been there before. She found herself straining to keep the conversation light, unsure how to bridge the gap that seemed to be widening between them. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to hear about his life—she did, so much—but it was almost as if he was so far away now that the little things felt less important. She missed him, yes, but there was also something else she couldn’t quite put into words. Something she hadn’t expected.

“I’m really glad you’re happy, Henry,” Regina said softly, her voice almost wistful. “But I miss you. I miss having you here.”

“I miss you too, Mom,” he said, his tone suddenly softening. “But you know, I’ve got a lot going on. I’ve met a ton of people, and we’ve been hanging out a lot. I mean, it’s college, right? It’s just different now.”

His words hit her like a gentle wave, but it didn’t make the impact any easier. Regina squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment, realizing how much she had been holding on to this new chapter in his life. But it was clear—he was moving on, and she was still struggling to find her footing.

“I’m happy for you,” she said, forcing a smile into her voice. “I want you to enjoy it, Henry. It’s what you’ve worked so hard for. Just… make sure you take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will, Mom, I promise.”

The conversation seemed to wind down after that. Small talk, a few more questions about his classes, a mention of how he’d gotten involved in some campus clubs. She found herself listening with a kind of detached affection, happy for him, but aware of the bittersweet ache of him slipping further from her grasp. He had found his place in the world, and that was exactly what she’d wanted for him.

Still, as the call ended, a sense of loss lingered in the air. She realized, then, that this was the beginning of something—Henry was starting to live his life in a way that didn’t revolve around her. She had expected it, but it was still an adjustment, one she hadn’t anticipated would be this hard.

She placed the phone down on the counter with a soft sigh, her chest tight as she walked into the kitchen, trying to distract herself with the mundane task of making tea. But it didn’t take long before her mind wandered back to the last time she’d seen Emma.

It had been just a few days ago, in the dim light of her living room, the fire crackling in the hearth while they shared a quiet evening. She hadn’t been able to get Emma’s laugh out of her head, or the way Emma had looked at her with such warmth, a look that had made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t realized she was missing.

Regina’s fingers gripped the kettle tighter, and she sighed again, her thoughts drifting further, until she caught herself. She couldn’t deny it. There was a pull she hadn’t expected, a magnetism between her and Emma that was undeniable.

What was it? Was it the closeness? The comfort in Emma’s presence that seemed to fill the empty spaces left by Henry’s departure? Or was it something more? Something deeper than she wanted to admit to herself?

A soft knock on the door snapped Regina from her thoughts, and she turned quickly, her heart pounding in her chest. Was it Emma? Was it just coincidence? Or was she somehow picking up on this, too?

She walked over to the door, still feeling a little off-balance, but as she opened it, she felt a rush of warmth flood her chest when she saw the familiar figure standing there.

It was Emma, of course, with a small smile on her face and a bottle of wine in hand.

“Hey,” Emma said, her voice light and casual, “thought you might need a little company after… well, everything.” She gestured vaguely. “You up for some wine and, you know, whatever?”

Regina’s breath caught for a moment, and she nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’d like that,” she said softly, her voice steadier than she felt. “Come in.”

As Emma stepped inside, Regina couldn’t help but notice how right it felt, the way Emma just slid into her space like she belonged there. Regina knew, with a sudden certainty, that this wasn’t just about filling the silence left by Henry.

There was something more. Something she hadn’t fully acknowledged before. Something she might not be ready to define yet. But it was there. And for the first time in a long while, Regina wasn’t so sure she needed to keep pretending it wasn’t.

Regina’s heart was still beating faster than usual as Emma stepped inside her house. The familiar, comforting presence of her made the space feel warmer, lighter. She forced herself to breathe, trying not to focus on the subtle, undercurrent of something new between them. It was something she wasn’t quite ready to examine, but it seemed to be growing more obvious with each passing day.

Emma, as always, seemed unfazed by the change in atmosphere. She grinned, holding up the bottle of wine. “Brought the good stuff,” she said, winking. “I figured if we’re going to do this, we might as well do it right.”

Regina rolled her eyes playfully, trying to keep things light. “How thoughtful,” she replied with an exaggerated sigh. “As if I didn’t have enough of this lying around already.” She gestured to the shelves of wine behind her, but Emma’s mischievous smile remained.

“Oh, so these aren’t just for show?” Emma teased, walking past her and placing the wine bottle on the counter. “Figured we could actually drink some instead of admiring it from afar.” 

Regina arched an eyebrow at her, leaning against the kitchen island, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Oh, I indulge plenty, Miss Swan. You have no idea.” Her voice was cool, but there was something laced with challenge in the way she said it, a subtle spark in her eyes.

Emma’s lips quirked up, clearly entertained by the exchange. “Is that so?” she asked, stepping closer. There was a teasing glint in her eyes now, and Regina could feel the air between them shift ever so slightly, crackling with a tension that was almost electric. “What kind of indulgences are we talking about here, Madam Mayor?”

Regina leaned in, her voice dropping to a quieter, more intimate register. “Well, I wouldn’t want to give you too much to think about, Emma. Some things are better left as… secrets.” Her eyes locked with Emma’s, her lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile.

Emma laughed softly, clearly enjoying herself. “You’re such a tease, Mills,” she said, her voice low. “I…I kind of like it.” Her hand brushed against Regina’s arm as she reached for a wineglass, sending a jolt of electricity through Regina’s body.

Regina’s breath hitched, but she quickly masked the effect Emma had on her. “I’m not teasing. Just… suggesting,” she replied smoothly, her gaze dropping to Emma’s lips for a moment before quickly returning to her eyes.

Emma held Regina’s gaze for a heartbeat, the playful banter still hanging between them, but there was something else now, something deeper. “You’re right,” Emma said softly, her smile lingering. “You’re definitely not the typical kind of woman who just gives everything away. But then again, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

Regina let out a small, almost inaudible chuckle, but she was suddenly aware of how close Emma was standing. The temperature in the room seemed to rise a few degrees, and her heart beat just a little faster. It felt like the air was thick with something unsaid, something they had both been skirting around.

“You’ve got that right,” Regina replied, taking a half-step back and suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. She quickly poured them both a glass of wine, attempting to regain some composure, but her hands felt just a little shaky.

Emma noticed, her playful grin turning more knowing. “What’s the matter, Regina?” she asked, her voice teasing. “Afraid I’ll figure you out? Maybe you’re not as mysterious as you think.”

Regina scoffed, trying to keep the situation light despite the slight flutter in her chest. “I’m not afraid of anything, Emma,” she said with a half-smile. “But you, on the other hand…are trembling.” Her voice dropped, a hint of something more vulnerable behind the teasing.

Emma raised an eyebrow, her smirk deepening as she took a slow step closer. “Oh, I’m trembling, am I?” she echoed, her tone dripping with amusement. “Maybe you’re just projecting, Your Majesty.”

Regina’s lips parted slightly, caught between indignation and something far more dangerous—something that made her pulse quicken. She tilted her chin up, refusing to let Emma see the effect she was having. “Hardly,” she countered, though the words came a little too fast, a little too defensive.

Emma noticed. Of course she did. She always did.

Her gaze flickered over Regina’s face, searching, challenging. “You sure about that?” she murmured, her voice dipping just enough to send a shiver down Regina’s spine. “Because I think someone’s afraid here. And it’s not me.”

Regina inhaled sharply, willing herself to stay composed, but the proximity—the teasing lilt in Emma’s voice—was making it increasingly difficult. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” she said, aiming for irritation, but it came out softer, almost breathless.

Emma’s smile turned positively wicked. “Not everything,” she admitted, tilting her head just slightly. “But I do know when someone’s fighting an urge.”

Regina’s stomach flipped. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Emma hummed, her fingers ghosting near Regina’s wrist as if daring her to pull away. “So, you’re saying if I leaned in just a little closer, if I—” she dropped her voice, letting the tension stretch, “—whispered something in your ear… it wouldn’t make you nervous?”

Regina swallowed, her breath catching before she could stop it. Damn it. Emma heard that too.

The blonde grinned, leaning in just enough to test the waters. “Mysterious, huh?” she murmured. “I think I like figuring you out.”

Regina was going to kill her. Or kiss her. It was honestly a toss-up at this point.

Regina stiffened, straightening her shoulders in a futile attempt to regain control of the situation. “You think you’re figuring me out,” she corrected, her voice sharper now, laced with that signature Queenly defiance. “But you’re mistaking intrigue for assumption, dear.”

Emma didn’t back off. If anything, her grin widened, amused by the sudden shift in Regina’s demeanor. “Oh, so now I’m assuming?” she mused, letting the words drag just a little. “Because from where I’m standing, it kinda seems like I’ve hit a nerve.”

Regina scoffed, but it lacked her usual bite. “Please,” she said, rolling her eyes, though they darted away just a little too quickly. “You flatter yourself, Miss Swan.”

Emma caught it. Of course she did.

“Oh, definitely,” she agreed easily, inching just a fraction closer, deliberately invading Regina’s space. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

Regina exhaled through her nose, trying—really trying—not to react, but her fingers twitched at her sides, and Emma’s eyes flickered down, catching the movement.

“See?” Emma said, her voice dropping into something softer, dangerously close to smug. “There it is again. You’re all poised and put-together until I get just close enough, and then—” She grinned. “Something shifts.”

Regina’s jaw clenched. “You’re imagining things.”

Emma tilted her head, considering. “Am I?”

Regina wanted to argue. She should argue. But the way Emma was looking at her—intense, knowing, challenging—made it frustratingly difficult to form a coherent response.

Emma let the silence stretch just long enough to make Regina’s pulse spike before finally offering a smirk. “It’s okay, you know,” she said, her voice light but laced with something far more suggestive. “To like the attention.”

Regina let out a short, humorless laugh, though there was an edge of nervousness beneath it. “Oh, please.” She forced herself to scoff, even as heat curled in her stomach. “If I wanted attention, I certainly wouldn’t seek yours.”

Emma just smiled, slow and knowing. “You say that…” She let her voice trail off, letting the implication settle between them.

Regina glared, hating how warm her skin felt under Emma’s scrutiny. “You are insufferable.”

Emma chuckled, leaning in just slightly. “And yet,” she murmured, eyes locked onto Regina’s, “you’re still standing right here.”

Regina quickly took another sip of her wine to steady herself, but her hand trembled just slightly. “You’re delusional if you think you have me all figured out,” Regina managed to say, her voice a little too smooth, a little too practiced.

Emma smirked, leaning back against the counter. “Maybe I like it that way,” she said softly. “A challenge.”

The words hung between them, charged and heavy with an implication neither of them had voiced outright. Regina could feel her heart racing again, and she quickly shifted her weight, standing up straighter. This was getting dangerously close to a line neither of them had crossed before. She needed to step back, regain control, before things went too far.

Regina could feel the tension coiling in her chest, pressing against her ribs like a vice. She was playing a dangerous game—one she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to win.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not with her.

She had spent years crafting barriers, honing the sharp edges of her persona into something impenetrable. And yet, with nothing more than a teasing smirk and a too-knowing gaze, Emma Swan had somehow slipped through the cracks.

Regina clenched her jaw, willing herself to ignore the way Emma’s presence felt like a slow-burning fire, creeping too close to a place she had sworn to keep untouched. It was reckless. Dangerous. Stupid.

Because this wasn’t just harmless flirting.

Flirting she could handle—she had mastered the art of wielding charm like a weapon, using wit and allure to keep people at arm’s length while making them believe they were getting closer. But this? This was something else.

Emma wasn’t just playing. She was pushing.

And worse? Regina was letting her.

She could still feel the ghost of Emma’s breath near her skin, the weight of her gaze—heavy with something unspoken. It sent a thrill down Regina’s spine, one she desperately wanted to ignore.

Because she knew what came next.

A step too far. A moment too long. The kind of mistake that unraveled everything.

Regina had made those mistakes before.

She knew what it was like to reach for something she wasn’t supposed to want—to feel the spark of something real and let herself believe, even for a second, that she could have it. That she deserved it.

And she knew exactly how it ended.

Badly. Always badly.

Her pulse was too quick, her thoughts too loud, a war raging in her head as she fought to reel herself back in.

This wasn’t a line she could afford to cross.

Not with Emma.

Not with someone who saw too much—who chipped away at Regina’s defenses with every smirk, every challenge, every maddeningly patient moment she spent waiting for Regina to slip.

Regina inhaled sharply, forcing her expression back into something controlled, composed. She would not let Emma see her falter.

Not now. Not ever.

So she straightened, lifted her chin, and did the only thing she could do.

She stepped back.

Emma, seemingly oblivious to Regina’s inner turmoil, took another slow sip of her wine, her gaze never leaving Regina’s face. The space between them seemed to shrink with every passing second. Regina felt the pull, felt that undeniable magnetism between them, but she also felt a surge of panic at the thought of where this might go if they didn’t stop.

“Maybe,” Regina said, her voice firmer than before, “you should be careful what you wish for, Emma. Sometimes, it’s better to leave certain things… unexplored.”

Emma’s grin softened, her eyes darkening with something more than just playfulness. “Maybe,” she agreed, her voice low, “but I’m not one to leave things unexplored for long.”

Regina’s breath caught in her throat, and she quickly stepped back, nearly bumping into the table behind her. “That’s enough,” she said, her voice much sharper than she intended. She cleared her throat, trying to shake off the unsettling warmth that was spreading through her body. “We should focus on dinner.”

Emma’s expression flickered—just for a second—as if she hadn’t expected Regina to retreat so suddenly. But then, like always, she adjusted, masking whatever had flashed across her face with a slow, knowing smile.

“Dinner,” she echoed, her voice lingering over the word like she was tasting it, considering it. But there was something else in her tone now, something softer, something almost…disappointed.

Regina forced herself to meet Emma’s gaze, but it was a mistake. Because those green eyes weren’t just amused anymore. They were studying her, searching for the reason behind her sudden retreat. And Regina hated that Emma was looking at her like that—like she could see right through her carefully constructed defenses.

So she straightened her shoulders, lifting her chin with the kind of poise that had carried her through far worse moments than this. “Yes, dinner,” she said firmly, smoothing a hand down the front of her blouse as if that could erase the tension that had settled thick in the air between them. “Unless you’ve suddenly lost your appetite?”

Emma exhaled a quiet chuckle, but there was something different about it now—less teasing, more thoughtful. “Oh, I’m still hungry,” she murmured, and the way she said it sent an entirely new kind of heat curling low in Regina’s stomach.

Damn her.

Regina swallowed, turning swiftly toward the kitchen, needing to put space—physical, emotional, any kind of space—between them. “Then I suggest you set the table,” she called over her shoulder, forcing herself to sound unaffected.

She didn’t dare look back.

Because she had the sinking suspicion that if she did, she’d find Emma still watching her—smirking, challenging, waiting.

And Regina wasn’t entirely sure she trusted herself not to turn around.

Emma stood there for a moment, watching Regina retreat deeper into the kitchen with all the grace of a queen making a calculated escape. She exhaled, rubbing a hand over the back of her neck, her earlier confidence faltering now that she was alone.

Had she pushed too far?

She had been teasing—mostly. Testing boundaries, seeing how far Regina would let her go before she pushed back. But this time… this time had felt different.

Regina had always been quick to snap at her, to throw up walls disguised as sharp words and pointed glares. But this? This hadn’t been the usual verbal sparring match.

This had been something else.

There had been something in Regina’s eyes—something unguarded, fleeting, but unmistakably there—just before she’d stepped away like she’d touched a flame and realized too late that it burned.

Emma ran a hand through her hair, cursing herself under her breath. What the hell was she doing?

Flirting with Regina was one thing. She liked getting a rise out of her, liked the way Regina’s eyes flashed when she was caught off guard, the way her breath hitched when Emma leaned in just a little too close. But it had always been a game—one they both played, even if neither of them would admit it.

But what if it wasn’t a game anymore?

What if, just for a second, Regina had actually considered it?

And worse—what if Emma had just ruined that moment by pushing too hard?

She wasn’t stupid. She knew Regina had walls for a reason. And she knew—better than anyone—that when you pressed too much, too fast, some people ran.

Regina wasn’t the type to run.

She was the type to shut down. To retreat into herself, to bury whatever flicker of possibility might have been there beneath layers of cold indifference.

Emma had seen it happen before. And if she wasn’t careful, if she really had pushed too far, she might never get another chance.

The thought sat heavy in her chest, an unfamiliar weight pressing against her ribs. She didn’t want to lose whatever this was—this thing between them, unspoken but undeniable.

But had she just made that inevitable?

Emma sighed, forcing herself to move, to do something instead of just standing there like an idiot.

She turned toward the table, jaw tightening with determination.

Fine.

If she’d pushed too hard, then she’d back off—just enough to give Regina room to breathe.

But she wasn’t giving up.

Not yet.

Chapter Text

The evening had a different feeling from the moment Regina entered Emma’s house. It wasn’t dramatic, but it was palpable—a change in the air that neither of them seemed to acknowledge, but both were keenly aware of. It was like the atmosphere itself had shifted, settling into a new rhythm that neither of them knew how to navigate, but both were somehow moving toward.

Regina stepped into Emma’s living room, feeling the warmth of the fire crackling softly in the corner. The room was cozy, the lights dim, and everything felt easy, familiar in a way that made her heart clench unexpectedly. Emma was already unpacking a bag of snacks on the coffee table, a bottle of wine in the other hand, her casual movements carrying an unspoken invitation to relax.

“You don’t have to go through all this trouble for me,” Regina teased lightly, though her voice came out softer than intended as she set her purse down and slipped off her jacket.

Emma flashed a grin, her eyes glinting with that usual mischievous spark. “Oh, it’s no trouble,” she replied, her tone light. “And I figured it was time I hosted for a change. You’ve had me over at yours, what, a million times now?” She glanced at Regina from the corner of her eye, a playful lilt to her words.

Regina couldn’t help but smile. “It’s not that many times.” She walked closer, glancing at the wine bottle. “Although, I’m curious if your idea of ‘hosting’ involves drinking me under the table or just forcing me into awkward conversations.”

Emma chuckled, opening the bottle with a practiced twist of her wrist. “It’s a mix of both, actually,” she said with a wink. “You’ve been warned.”

Regina raised an eyebrow, but her smile lingered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They settled into the couch, the wine pouring between them, the casual back-and-forth of their conversation filling the air. There was an ease to it, and Regina had to admit, she enjoyed these moments. They had always been able to talk effortlessly—about anything, everything. Yet tonight, there was something different. A subtle shift that neither of them had acknowledged, but neither could escape.

Emma reached for the remote, clicking on a random show they had both watched a million times before. But instead of sinking into the old, familiar rhythms, their banter felt just a little too quiet. The touches, the glances, they lingered in the space between them. Emma would brush her hand against Regina’s arm to pass her the remote, and Regina felt the static of it—every time. Every time their hands brushed, a little longer, a little more deliberately than before. Neither pulled away immediately, and neither said anything about it.

The conversation slowed, and their eyes met across the couch. Regina tried to look away, tried to make light of it, but Emma’s gaze held hers with a quiet intensity, something she couldn’t read but couldn’t shake either.

“I can’t remember the last time I just… sat down like this,” Emma said, her voice quieter than usual. “It’s kind of nice.”

Regina nodded, her chest tightening a little. “Yeah, it is,” she said, trying to keep it light, but it came out softer than she intended. “I don’t think we do this enough. No interruptions, no… Henry. Just us.”

Emma tilted her head slightly, studying Regina with a new attention that made her heart skip. “Yeah,” Emma said slowly, her eyes lingering. “It’s different. But good. Don’t you think?”

Regina opened her mouth to reply, but her throat felt dry. Good. She was tempted to say something flippant in response, something that would mask the shift she felt happening in her chest, but she couldn’t find the words.

Instead, Emma shifted, her shoulder brushing lightly against Regina’s as she reached for the glass on the table. It was such a small, casual move, but it sent a jolt through Regina’s chest. The touch lingered, almost accidentally, but it felt deliberate all the same. For a split second, she forgot to breathe.

“Is this weird for you?” Emma asked, breaking the silence, her voice unexpectedly quiet, like she was testing the waters, feeling out the new space between them.

Regina paused. Her gaze dropped to her glass, then back to Emma, and for a moment, she felt vulnerable in a way she hadn’t expected. “A little,” she admitted, her voice soft but steady. “But I think it’s good weird.”

Emma smirked, though there was something different in the curve of her lips this time. “Good weird? That’s a start, I guess.”

Regina was about to respond, her mind racing for something lighthearted to say, but before she could, Emma leaned in, just a fraction, closer than necessary. Her breath caught slightly as Emma’s voice dropped to a murmur. “You know, I think I could get used to this. Us, like this.”

The air between them shifted, palpable, as if a door had creaked open, and Regina had just caught a glimpse of something she wasn’t sure she was ready to face. She held Emma’s gaze, her heart pounding in her chest, unsure whether to take a step back or lean into the growing tension.

Emma didn’t move, her eyes locked on Regina’s, almost daring her to make the next move.

Regina swallowed, trying to settle herself, but it was hard with Emma so close. “I’m not sure what this is,” she said, her voice lower than she intended, a trace of uncertainty leaking through her usual composure. “I don’t want to… complicate things.”

Emma’s expression softened, and she shifted a little, her hand inching closer to Regina’s. It wasn’t quite touching, but it was enough. “What if we’re already complicated?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been noticing the little shifts in…the way I feel…about you.”

Regina felt her pulse quicken, the vulnerability in Emma’s words leaving her slightly breathless. She hadn’t known how to say it, but Emma had. She had noticed it, too.

“Maybe we don’t need to know what it is just yet,” Emma continued, her voice calm but insistent, like she was gently pulling Regina into the space between them. “Maybe we can just… let it be.”

Regina nodded slowly, unsure how to respond but not wanting to shatter the fragile moment between them. The quiet was comfortable, but it was also filled with possibility, something she wasn’t sure how to handle just yet.

Emma leaned back, her body easing a little, but she didn’t pull away. The shift had been acknowledged, but neither of them knew where it would lead.

“I think I can live with that,” Regina said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Emma grinned, settling back into the couch, but there was a new ease between them, a soft but undeniable tension that neither of them was willing to ignore.

***

The soft glow of the lamp in Emma’s living room cast a warm light over the room, making everything feel cozy and intimate. The night had settled in, and yet the quiet felt heavier than usual. Regina sat on the couch across from Emma, a cup of tea in her hands, staring at the gentle flicker of the fireplace as the crackling logs filled the silence between them.

It wasn’t that Emma was being quiet—no, Emma was as talkative as ever—but it was the kind of silence that lingered under their words. The kind of silence that stretched into unspoken things neither of them dared to address.

“Do you ever just…” Emma started, her voice low, almost unsure. She glanced at Regina briefly before looking away again, as though testing the waters. “Do you ever think about what’s next?”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to sound casual, though the question made something inside her twist. Emma had a way of cutting straight to things that Regina often preferred to avoid.

Emma shrugged, her expression thoughtful. “Well, now that Henry’s gone. Things feel… different. Quieter. I mean, he was always here. Always needing us. And now it’s just us. And it’s kind of weird, isn’t it?”

Regina nodded slowly, feeling a weight in her chest that had been building ever since Henry had left. “It’s strange,” she said, her voice softer than she intended. “I spent so many years being… needed. Needed by Henry, needed by the town. And now, I feel like I’m just… here.” She paused, trying to gather her thoughts. “It’s like I don’t know what my purpose is anymore. Without him around, without someone needing me in the way he always did, I feel… lost. Uncertain.”

Emma was silent for a moment, and when Regina glanced over at her, she saw the same vulnerable expression mirrored in Emma’s eyes. Emma, who had spent years with the weight of the world on her shoulders, now seemed just as adrift. Her gaze softened, and she spoke in a quieter voice than usual.

“I get it,” Emma said, almost to herself. “I mean, I’ve never really had someone like that. Something to take care of, to focus on, until him. But… I get what it’s like to have this thing you’ve been doing for so long and then suddenly, it’s not there. And you’re left trying to figure out who you are when there’s no one else to define you.”

Regina felt the shift in the air as Emma spoke, the vulnerability in her words pulling Regina in closer, though neither of them said it aloud. There was an intimacy between them now that hadn’t existed before—something unspoken, like the silence that hung between the words they shared. It was almost as though they both felt a connection they weren’t sure how to handle, a bond forged by their shared loneliness, but neither one of them knew how to navigate it.

Emma leaned back into the couch, her eyes never leaving Regina. “It’s just weird, you know?” she said softly, a half-smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “For so long, it was all about Henry. And now… it’s not. And now it’s just me. And you. And I don’t know what that means.”

Regina felt her chest tighten, her breath catching slightly as she registered the unspoken question in Emma’s words. It wasn’t just about Henry anymore. It was about them. About whatever this was, whatever they were becoming.

But Regina couldn’t bring herself to address it. She didn’t know how to. She had spent so long building walls around herself, walls to protect her heart, that now, in the face of whatever this was, she wasn’t sure how to break them down.

Instead, she did what she always did—she deflected.

“Maybe we’re just getting old,” Regina said with a forced lightness, trying to push away the weight of the conversation. “Maybe we’ve just been so wrapped up in everyone else’s lives that we’ve forgotten to live our own.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “You, getting old?” she teased. “I think you’ve got a long way to go before I believe that.”

Regina couldn’t help but smile, the banter bringing a small sense of relief. But even as she laughed, a small part of her felt that shift again—the tension that lingered in the space between them, the unsaid words. She could feel Emma’s presence like it was all around her, and yet, she didn’t know how to bridge that gap.

Emma’s smile softened as she leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, her gaze more serious now. “I just think… I don’t know. I think maybe we’ve both spent so long being what everyone else needed us to be. And now, without that, we’re just left with us. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

Regina’s breath hitched slightly, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t tell if Emma was asking a question or simply thinking out loud, but in the quiet that followed, it didn’t matter. The weight of Emma’s words pressed down on her, heavy and undeniable.

But neither of them said anything more. Neither of them was willing to take that next step, to acknowledge the tension that had been building between them for weeks. They simply sat there, looking at each other, neither of them sure of what came next.

The silence stretched out, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was simply a quiet that carried with it the weight of something unspoken, something neither of them had the courage to voice.

Regina cleared her throat, breaking the stillness. “I guess we’re just figuring things out,” she said, her voice soft, though it lacked the certainty she wished it had. “We’ve both been… needed. But now it’s just about figuring out what comes after that.”

Emma nodded, her eyes still studying Regina, though there was a softness in her expression now, like she understood something unspoken between them. “Yeah. It’s all part of the process, I guess. Not sure what’s next, but I guess we’ll figure it out together.”

Regina felt a strange flutter in her chest at the words. Together. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but in that moment, it felt like the most important word in the world. Emma’s words settled into her heart in a way she wasn’t sure she was ready for, and yet, she couldn’t deny how much she wanted to hold on to that feeling.

***

The evening was winding down, the comfortable hum of conversation between them settling into a quiet rhythm. They were sitting close on the couch, just enough that their shoulders brushed occasionally, and yet the distance between them seemed both vast and minuscule all at once.

Regina leaned back into the cushions, her cup of tea resting lightly in her hands. Emma had just made some offhand remark about Regina’s penchant for overthinking, and it had them both laughing, the sound filling the cozy living room with an ease that felt almost too natural.

As the laughter faded, the room seemed to shrink just a little bit, the space between them narrowing. Emma, still grinning, let her gaze linger on Regina’s face. There was something soft about her expression tonight—something open. Regina’s eyes were warm, her lips curving into a slight smile that Emma couldn’t quite place, but it made her pulse quicken, all the same.

Emma noticed a strand of hair that had fallen from the neatness of Regina’s style, gently brushing the curve of her cheek. Without thinking, she reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against Regina’s face to tuck the stray hair behind her ear. The touch was delicate, almost shy, but it felt significant, like a tiny bridge between them. It was an unconscious gesture, one that spoke volumes without either of them realizing it.

Regina froze for just a moment, her breath catching as Emma’s hand lingered at her cheek. Their eyes locked, the world outside the room suddenly fading away. The soft crackle of the fireplace, the rhythmic ticking of the clock—it all became distant, irrelevant in the presence of the palpable shift that hung between them.

The air around them thickened, charged with something neither of them was quite ready to name. Emma felt her heart race in her chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t sure how to navigate the silence between them. Her mind raced, her breath catching slightly as she tried to make sense of what she was feeling.

Slowly, cautiously, Emma inched closer, her gaze never leaving Regina’s. Her voice came out soft, almost a whisper, as she asked, “Regina… can I kiss you?”

The question hung in the air, the vulnerability in Emma’s voice almost palpable. She wasn’t sure where this moment was going, but the desire to bridge that final gap between them was undeniable. And yet, she wanted to be sure. She wanted Regina to know that this wasn’t something being rushed, something taken without thought. She wanted it to be something they both wanted.

Regina’s breath hitched at the question, and her heart beat faster. Her lips parted slightly, her mind spinning with confusion, but also something else—something warmer, something that felt right in a way she couldn’t explain. The request, the gentleness in Emma’s voice—it disarmed her, opening a door she hadn’t realized was there.

Regina nodded slowly, her voice quiet as she answered, almost breathless, “Yes.”

And in that moment, it was as though the world had shifted around them. The distance, the uncertainty, the hesitations—all of it fell away as Emma closed the gap between them. Her hand, still lingering near Regina’s cheek, now cupped her jaw gently, tilting her head just slightly to find the angle.

When their lips met, it was soft—tentative, like they were both testing the waters, unsure but eager all the same. The kiss was brief, a fleeting thing, but it carried a weight that neither of them could deny. The world seemed to still around them, and for just a moment, there was nothing else but the two of them, together in that space.

When they pulled away, it felt like everything had changed, but neither of them knew what to say next. The silence between them was thick, filled with the weight of something both beautiful and terrifying. Neither of them moved, neither of them knew what came after.

Regina stood abruptly, the motion almost jerky as she tried to regain some semblance of control. Her heart was racing, her breath still shallow from the kiss. She needed to distance herself, to process what had just happened, but the words wouldn’t come.

“I… I should go…” she muttered, barely above a whisper, her voice strained as she turned away, avoiding Emma’s gaze. “I need to think.”

Emma didn’t move, didn’t try to stop her, but she couldn’t help the sharp pang of uncertainty that rose in her chest. She hadn’t expected it to feel like this. She hadn’t expected the kiss to leave her so breathless, or Regina’s sudden retreat to make her feel so… unsure.

“Regina…” Emma started, but she wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure if she could say anything that would make it better.

Regina turned toward the door, her back to Emma, her expression unreadable. “I’ll call you,” she said softly, her voice strained, barely audible as she reached for the door handle.

Emma’s heart ached as she watched Regina leave. There was so much left unsaid, so much they had yet to understand about this new thing between them. But even as Regina stepped out the door, leaving Emma standing there alone, Emma couldn’t help the flicker of hope that danced in her chest. She didn’t know what would happen next, or if Regina would even come back, but something had changed. And Emma wasn’t willing to let it go.

As the door clicked shut, Emma stayed rooted in place, her hand hovering over her lips where Regina’s kiss had lingered. She didn’t know what this meant, didn’t know where it would lead. But for the first time in a long while, she was willing to find out.

And as she exhaled slowly, she realized one thing—whatever was coming next, she was ready for it.

But only when Regina was ready, too.

Chapter Text

The days dragged on in a quiet tension. Regina kept herself busy—too busy, she told herself—to think about the kiss, about Emma, or about the way everything had changed between them in an instant. She avoided Emma’s calls, letting them go straight to voicemail, and kept her distance from any messages.

But Emma, ever persistent, found subtle ways to make her presence known. It started with lunch—a simple, almost casual gesture. Regina walked into her office one afternoon to find a container of food waiting for her, a note taped to the top: “Thought you might need something to eat. - Emma.” It was a familiar kind of gesture, the kind Emma had made in the past. But this time, it felt different, weighted with unspoken meaning.

The next day, it was a bottle of wine left on her porch. Regina had been about to close the door when she spotted the bottle nestled on the welcome mat, a handwritten tag attached: “For later. If you need it.” No name, no explanation—just a gesture, a quiet offering.

Regina had tried to ignore it. She told herself that Emma was just being kind, that she was simply trying to be there as a friend. But the reality was, every time she saw those little gifts, her heart tugged in a way she couldn’t ignore. She missed Emma, but there was too much confusion swirling around her—too many feelings she wasn’t sure how to unpack.

But after the third day of receiving lunch and wine, Regina found herself unable to resist any longer. She had tried to bury her thoughts, tried to maintain the distance she thought she needed, but it wasn’t working. She wasn’t angry at Emma, and she wasn’t trying to punish her—she was just scared. Scared of what might happen if they talked, scared of where this was leading, and scared of what she might lose if they crossed a line they couldn’t come back from.

She needed clarity.

Regina sat in her office that afternoon, the rhythmic tapping of her fingers on her desk a steady companion to the buzz of her thoughts. Finally, she picked up her phone and stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the keyboard for a moment. She debated with herself—what exactly should she say? What could she say?

Her fingers danced across the screen as she typed a simple message.

Regina: Emma, can you come over tonight? We need to talk.

Regina hesitated before hitting send, her chest tightening as she did. She didn’t know what would come from this conversation, didn’t know where it would lead. But she couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine, that this distance between them could remain without consequence.

She watched the screen, waiting for the familiar three dots to indicate that Emma was typing. A few moments passed, and then the response appeared.

Emma: I’ll be there at 7.

A sigh of relief escaped Regina’s lips, though she wasn’t sure why. The tension between them wasn’t something that could be solved by a simple conversation, but at least it was a step toward understanding.

That evening, Regina found herself pacing the living room, making small adjustments to the furniture, as if somehow the physical space in her home could rearrange the emotions swirling inside her. The knock on the door came at precisely 7 PM, and Regina felt her heart skip a beat. She opened the door to find Emma standing on the other side, the familiar warmth in her smile tempered by something unreadable in her eyes.

“Hey,” Emma said softly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation, her usual confidence replaced with a quiet gentleness. “You wanted to talk?”

Regina nodded, stepping aside to let Emma in. The atmosphere in the room felt heavier than usual, the weight of everything left unsaid settling in the space between them. 

“I didn’t bring wine this time,” Emma said with a small, tentative smile, “but I figured you probably wanted to talk, drink.”

Regina offered a small, forced laugh. “Yeah. No wine tonight.”

They both stood there for a moment, unsure of where to begin. Regina felt the words on the tip of her tongue but couldn’t find the courage to speak them. She had to say something, though. She had to make sense of it all before it spiraled any further.

“Emma…” Regina started, but her voice faltered. She looked at Emma, the vulnerability of the moment making her heart race. “I’m sorry. I’ve been avoiding you.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, her gaze soft. “I know. But I get it. You don’t have to apologize.”

“No,” Regina said, shaking her head, “I do. I’ve been trying to figure things out, trying to make sense of it all. I’m scared, Emma. I’m scared of what happens next.”

Emma stepped closer, her expression open but careful. “I’m scared too, Regina. I don’t know what happens next, but I don’t want to keep pretending that we’re just… friends. Not anymore.”

Regina’s breath caught in her chest. There it was—out in the open. The unspoken truth, the thing they had both been dancing around for days, weeks even. Regina’s hands tightened at her sides, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Emma’s.

“We… we don’t have to pretend,” Regina whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t want to pretend. I just… I don’t know what it means yet.”

Emma’s eyes softened. “Neither do I. But we can figure it out together, right? If you’ll let me.”

Regina’s heart pounded in her chest. It was a simple offer, a simple truth. She didn’t have to have all the answers, and neither did Emma. They didn’t have to know where this would lead. But they could figure it out together.

Regina nodded, the words stuck in her throat. She didn’t know what the future held, but she knew she wasn’t ready to let Emma go—not yet. And maybe that was enough for now.

“Yeah,” Regina finally said, her voice steady but quiet. “Together.”

The air between them seemed to shift, the space between them no longer filled with uncertainty. And for the first time in days, Regina felt the weight of the world slip just a little, enough to allow for something new—something uncertain, but something worth exploring.

The silence that followed their exchange wasn’t heavy, but it carried with it an unspoken promise—one that neither of them had been able to articulate before now. It wasn’t a commitment, not exactly, but it was the first step. The first step toward something neither of them could fully define, but both knew was undeniable.

Regina felt her chest tighten, the vulnerability of the moment still fresh and raw, but there was something else, too—something lighter. A feeling of relief, of release. She had been carrying so much on her own for so long, trying to shoulder the weight of emotions she didn’t fully understand, trying to protect herself from the possibility of something more. But now, standing here with Emma, she felt… seen. Maybe for the first time in a long time, she felt like she didn’t have to hide behind walls or masks.

Emma, too, seemed different. The walls that had been there—those walls she’d put up in her own way—seemed to be slipping away, piece by piece. It wasn’t just about the kiss or the proximity between them; it was about the simple act of being honest with each other, of acknowledging something that had been growing beneath the surface for longer than either of them had dared admit.

Regina broke the silence first. “So, what now?”

Emma shrugged, her lips pulling into a small, tentative smile. “I guess we take it one day at a time.” She stepped closer, just enough to close the distance that had grown too wide between them. “We don’t have to have all the answers. We don’t need to figure out everything tonight.”

Regina nodded, trying to push past the flutter in her stomach. She could feel Emma’s presence so much more keenly now—closer than before, more palpable. “Right. One step at a time.”

Emma smiled, a genuine warmth in her eyes. “Exactly. And hey, we don’t have to rush anything, okay? We don’t need to label this or define it right now. We’re just… figuring things out.”

Regina smiled back, but this time, it felt different. It wasn’t forced, it wasn’t the polite smile she had perfected over the years to hide her true emotions. It was real, raw even. And it felt right.

Emma’s hand reached out, her fingers brushing against Regina’s arm in a soft, almost hesitant gesture. “We can just be. Together.”

Regina’s heart fluttered at the simple statement. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Together,” she repeated softly, the word carrying a weight that made her chest feel fuller than it had in a long time.

They stood there for a moment longer, the space between them now filled with something comfortable, something familiar—like they had just crossed a threshold together. And yet, Regina couldn’t help but feel a little nervous, a little uncertain. What came next? How did they navigate this uncharted territory?

But for once, she didn’t feel the need to have all the answers. She was used to having everything figured out, to controlling the narrative. But with Emma, it was different. She didn’t need to have control. She didn’t need to know what came next. All she needed was to take that next step—and Emma would be right there with her.

“I’ve missed this,” Regina admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. The words came out before she could stop them, but they felt true. “I’ve missed having you around like this.”

Emma smiled, and Regina could see the relief in her eyes. “I’ve missed it too,” she said, her voice warm. “I missed you.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to. The unspoken connection between them was enough.

Finally, Emma took another step closer, her eyes scanning Regina’s face with a tenderness that made Regina’s heart race. “I’m not going anywhere, Regina,” Emma said softly, her voice steady. “We’ll figure this out together, I promise.”

Regina smiled, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions she couldn’t fully articulate. She didn’t know what the future held—didn’t know how this would evolve—but for the first time in a long time, she felt like she wasn’t alone in it. Emma wasn’t going anywhere. They were in this together.

And that was enough.

Regina nodded, her hand reaching out to gently grasp Emma’s. “Together,” she echoed once more, her voice steady now, no longer unsure.

Emma’s smile widened, and she leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Regina’s forehead—a gesture so simple, yet so full of meaning. It wasn’t a declaration, not a promise of anything more, but a quiet affirmation of everything they had just shared.

When she pulled away, their eyes locked, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Regina felt a weight lift from her shoulders.

Emma squeezed her hand gently, a silent agreement between them. They didn’t need to rush. They didn’t need to have it all figured out. They just needed to be here, in this moment, together.

As they stood in the quiet of Regina’s living room, the space between them now filled with something new—something tentative but hopeful—Regina realized that maybe, just maybe, the unknown wasn’t something to fear after all. It was an adventure. One that she would face with Emma by her side.

And for the first time in a long time, that felt like enough.

The space between them seemed to shrink with every passing moment, and Regina could feel the weight of Emma’s gaze, as though she were searching her for permission—looking for an answer to something unsaid.

And then, it happened. Emma’s gaze flickering between Regina’s eyes and her lips. The air was thick with anticipation, thick with the understanding that something was about to shift between them.

“Can I?” Emma asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper, her breath warm against Regina’s skin. The words were barely audible, but they were clear—an invitation, a question, a request for permission.

Regina’s heart raced. She knew what Emma was asking, and for a moment, she stood frozen, caught between uncertainty and something that felt almost like relief. She had been waiting for this, hadn’t she? Waiting for Emma to close the distance, to take that step.

And here it was.

Regina nodded, her breath catching in her throat. “Yes,” she said softly, her voice trembling just slightly. “Yes, you can.”

And in that moment, everything else faded away—the past, the fear, the confusion. There was only Emma in front of her, only the way their hearts seemed to be beating in sync.

Emma didn’t waste another second. She leaned in slowly, giving Regina plenty of time to pull back, but she didn’t. Instead, Regina met her halfway, her lips finding Emma’s in a kiss that was tentative at first, almost shy, as if they were both testing the waters, feeling each other out.

But it didn’t take long for that initial hesitation to fade. Emma deepened the kiss, her hand slipping to Regina’s cheek, pulling her closer. Regina responded with equal fervor, her own hands finding their way to Emma’s shoulders, as if pulling her in more, needing to feel the closeness, to make it real.

The kiss was soft but full of longing, as though every touch, every brush of lips, was a declaration of everything they had both been afraid to say. It was a kiss that spoke of years of quiet yearning, of silent understanding, and of the future they were both ready to face together—one step at a time.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together as they tried to steady their racing hearts. Neither of them said anything immediately, unsure of how to put words to what had just happened.

But then Emma spoke, her voice low, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Wow…”

Regina chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. She didn’t have the words to explain what she was feeling, but somehow, Emma’s presence, her touch, everything about the moment, made it feel like the world had shifted in the best possible way. “Wow indeed…again?” 

“Again.” Emma whispered before capturing Regina’s lips once again. 

Chapter Text

Regina sat at her kitchen counter, coffee in hand, watching Emma move around her house as if she belonged there. It was strange how quickly they had settled into this—this new thing between them, whatever it was.

The kiss had changed everything, but in some ways, it had also changed nothing. Regina still found herself expecting Emma’s texts, still waiting for her knock at the door. The difference was that now, when Emma walked into her home, she didn’t just feel like a friend Regina had grown too attached to. She felt like something more.

And that terrified her.

“So,” Emma started, plopping down in the chair across from her. “I’ve been thinking.”

Regina raised a brow over the rim of her coffee cup. “That’s never a good sign.”

Emma smirked. “Rude. But whatever, you’re gonna love this.”

Regina hummed, unconvinced.

“I want to take you on a date,” Emma announced, resting her elbows on the table. “Like, a real date. Proper, traditional—you know, the whole deal.”

Regina blinked, lowering her cup slowly. “A date?”

Emma grinned. “Yes, a date. People still go on them, believe it or not.”

“I am aware of the concept,” Regina said dryly, setting her cup down. “I just don’t see the need for one. We already spend all our time together. What would be different?”

Emma sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “Regina, come on. You and I have been dancing around this for years. We finally kiss, and now you want to just… what? Keep doing whatever it is we’ve been doing and hope we figure it out along the way?”

Regina pursed her lips, not entirely opposed to that idea.

Emma reached out, placing a hand over Regina’s. The touch was warm, grounding. “Look, I get it. This is new. It’s kind of scary. But I want to do this right. We deserve that, don’t we?”

Regina hesitated. The rational part of her wanted to argue, to remind Emma that their history was too complicated for simple, traditional dating. But another part of her—the part that had softened over the years, the part that had let Emma in so completely—wanted to say yes.

She exhaled. “Fine,” she said at last, watching the way Emma’s face lit up at the word. “But don’t think for a second that I’ll be easily impressed.”

Emma laughed, squeezing Regina’s hand. “Oh, I know you won’t. That’s half the fun.”

Regina rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. She had no idea what Emma had planned, but maybe—just maybe—she was looking forward to it.

***

Emma Swan prided herself on being a woman of action. She wasn’t one for grand romantic gestures, and planning anything beyond takeout and a movie usually felt unnecessary. But this was Regina. And Regina deserved more.

So, for the first time in what felt like forever, Emma found herself overthinking every detail.

She sat at the sheriff’s station, feet propped up on her desk, staring at the notepad in front of her.

Regina’s Perfect First Date:

1.Fancy Dinner? (Too predictable. Too stuffy.)

2.Picnic? (Cute, but would Regina sit in the grass? Unlikely.)

3.Something fun? (But what counts as fun for Regina?)

4.Something meaningful? (Bingo.)

Emma tapped the pen against her chin, thinking. Regina was used to control, to structure. A typical candlelit dinner at a high-end restaurant might be expected, but Emma wanted to do something different—something that would surprise her, something that would make her enjoy letting go.

She needed help. And unfortunately, the only person available was way too excited about this.

Snow leaned over Emma’s desk, grinning like she had been waiting her entire life for this conversation.

“I still can’t believe you two are finally dating,” Snow gushed. “I mean, I knew it was bound to happen eventually—”

Emma groaned, dropping her head onto the desk. “Mom, focus. I need ideas.”

“Right, right. Something romantic, but not cliché.” Snow tapped her chin, then gasped. “What about a carriage ride?”

Emma gave her a look. “We live in Storybrooke, not a Hallmark movie.”

“Okay, fine,” Snow laughed. “What about a boat ride? You could take her out on the lake.”

Emma actually considered that one. “Not bad. What else?”

Snow smirked. “You know Regina better than anyone, Emma. What’s something she would love?”

Emma frowned, running a hand through her hair. Regina wasn’t someone who needed grand gestures, but she did appreciate effort. And more than anything, she loved meaningful things.

Then it hit her.

A slow smile spread across Emma’s lips. “I got it.”

Snow clapped her hands excitedly. “Ooh, what is it?”

Emma stood, grabbing her jacket. “Not telling.”

Snow pouted. “Come on! At least tell me if it’s romantic!”

Emma just smirked. “Very.”

As she left the station, she felt the slightest twinge of nerves. But mostly, she felt excitement. Because for once, she wasn’t just showing up at Regina’s house out of habit—this time, she was taking her out on a real date.

And if all went according to plan, Regina was going to love it.

***

Regina Mills was not an easily flustered woman. She had survived cursed realms, dark magic, and an infuriating co-parenting arrangement with Emma Swan. She was composed, measured, and always in control.

So why, exactly, was she staring at her phone, debating whether or not to text Emma first?

It had been two days since their conversation—since Regina had agreed, against her better judgment, to go on a date. And Emma, who was usually incapable of keeping things to herself, had been suspiciously silent. No hints, no teasing remarks, not even an accidental slip of her plans.

It was maddening.

She wasn’t nervous. She wasn’t. It was just that… she preferred to be prepared. That was all.

And if she was checking her phone a little more often than usual, well, no one had to know.

A knock at her office door made her jolt, and before she could compose herself, the very subject of her thoughts strolled in, wearing a leather jacket and that smirk—the one that always meant trouble.

“Hey, Your Majesty.”

Regina folded her hands on her desk, arching a perfectly shaped brow. “Sheriff Swan. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Emma stepped closer, a glint in her eye. “Well, you did agree to let me take you on a date. And since I know you hate surprises, I figured I’d give you some very limited information.”

Regina tilted her head. “Limited?”

Emma grinned. “Yup. Here’s what you get to know: One, I’m picking you up at seven. Two, dress warm.”

Regina narrowed her eyes. “That’s it?”

“Yep.”

Regina huffed, unimpressed. “And if I refuse to go anywhere without more details?”

Emma leaned on the desk, close enough that Regina caught the faintest hint of her shampoo. “Then you’ll have to live with the regret of never knowing what I had planned. And trust me, it’s good.”

Regina rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smirk that tugged at her lips. “You are infuriating.”

Emma winked. “And yet, you keep me around.”

Regina sighed, shaking her head. “Fine. Seven o’clock. But if this turns out to be some ridiculous stunt—”

“Relax, Regina. I promise you’ll like it.”

Regina wasn’t sure if that was true, but as she watched Emma stroll out of her office, practically bouncing on her heels, she realized something rather frustrating.

For the first time in a long time, she was actually looking forward to a date.

***

Regina Mills did not get nervous over dates. It was absurd. She was a grown woman, not a blushing teenager. And yet, as she stood in her bedroom, staring at her wardrobe like it held the answers to the universe, she could feel the nervous energy simmering beneath the surface.

It was ridiculous.

She needed a distraction.

With a sigh, Regina grabbed her phone and dialed the one person who could offer blunt honesty without too much emotional coddling.

“Regina!” Zelena’s voice chimed through the phone. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Bored of ruling your little kingdom alone?”

Regina rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. I simply… needed to talk.”

“Oh, intriguing.” Zelena’s voice sharpened with interest. “Is this about the mysterious lunches and wine that keep appearing at your doorstep?”

Regina groaned. “You are extremely annoying.”

“Thank you,” Zelena said sweetly. “Now, what is it?”

Regina hesitated. She didn’t want to admit anything outright, but the words slipped out before she could stop them. “I have a date tonight.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Then—

“You?” Zelena practically shrieked. “A date? With an actual person?”

Regina clenched her jaw. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Oh, dear sister, you can’t drop a bombshell like that and expect me to ignore it. Who is the unfortunate soul you’ve roped into this?”

Regina stiffened. “That’s not important.”

Zelena gasped. “Oh, it absolutely is! Who is it? Come on, Regina, you never date. It’s been years.”

Regina huffed. “I don’t need to justify my personal life to you.”

Zelena laughed, a little too delighted by this. “Oh, this is delicious. You’re actually nervous.”

“I am not nervous,” Regina snapped, glaring at her reflection in the mirror as if daring herself to believe it.

Zelena hummed. “Right. Which is why you called me, of all people, to talk about it.”

Regina exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I just… I haven’t done this in a long time.” Her voice was softer now, hesitant. “I don’t know how to do this.”

For once, Zelena didn’t tease. “Oh, Regina,” she said, her voice losing its usual sharpness. “It’s just a date. If it makes you this nervous, maybe that means it’s something worth being nervous over.”

Regina didn’t respond.

Zelena sighed. “Alright, fine. I won’t push. But, since you did call me, allow me to impart some wisdom.”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “This should be good.”

Zelena ignored the sarcasm. “If you like them, let yourself like them. You’re allowed to be happy, Regina. And if they make you feel that way, then maybe—just maybe—you should stop overthinking it and just let it happen.”

Regina swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good,” Zelena said cheerfully. “Now, go enjoy your mystery date. And please wear something that doesn’t scream ‘Evil Queen on a warpath.’”

Regina rolled her eyes but found herself smirking. “Goodbye, Zelena.”

As she hung up the phone, she took a deep breath. Maybe Zelena was right. Maybe this was something worth being nervous over.

And maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t a bad thing.

***

Regina Mills did not get picked up for dates.

She was perfectly capable of driving herself, of arriving somewhere on her own terms, maintaining control of the situation. Yet, here she was, standing in her foyer, hands smoothing down the front of her dress for the fifth time in as many minutes, waiting for Emma Swan to knock on her door.

It was ridiculous.

A proper first date, Emma had insisted. No casual meetups, no just-happened-to-be-in-the-neighborhood excuses. She was coming to pick Regina up like a real date, with a plan and everything. Regina had scoffed at the idea at first, but now, as the anticipation curled in her stomach, she couldn’t quite remember why she had resisted.

A sharp knock at the door made her inhale sharply.

Regina hesitated only for a second before exhaling and composing herself. With a practiced calm, she opened the door—only to immediately feel her composure slip.

Emma stood there, looking entirely too good.

She was wearing a crisp button-down, dark jeans that fit her a little too well, and a leather jacket that somehow made the entire look effortlessly charming. Her hair was just the right amount of tousled, and the nervous but utterly genuine smile she wore nearly knocked the air from Regina’s lungs.

For a moment, neither of them said anything.

Emma was staring at her.

Regina cleared her throat. “You’re staring.”

Emma blinked, a grin tugging at her lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Regina arched an eyebrow. “And?”

Emma let out a breath, shaking her head slightly. “You look amazing.”

Heat bloomed at the back of Regina’s neck. She tilted her chin up, offering a smirk to cover the warmth creeping up her skin. “Flattery already? We haven’t even left yet.”

Emma chuckled. “I figured I’d start strong.”

Regina rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her with the smallest hint of a smile.

Emma held out a hand, palm up. “Shall we?”

Regina hesitated for only half a second before she placed her hand in Emma’s, allowing herself to be led outside.

She wasn’t sure where this night would lead, but as Emma opened the car door for her with an easy grin, Regina thought—just for a moment—that maybe she didn’t need to have all the answers.

Maybe, for once, she could just enjoy the moment.

***

Emma had been adamant about keeping the details of their date a surprise, which both intrigued and irritated Regina in equal measure. She wasn’t one for spontaneity, and the idea of relinquishing control—especially to Emma Swan—was a test of patience.

But now, as Emma drove them just outside the town limits, the night air cool against the car windows, Regina found herself… curious.

“Are you planning on telling me where we’re going?” Regina asked, her gaze flicking to Emma, who was wearing an infuriatingly smug smile.

“Nope.”

Regina huffed, crossing her arms. “I don’t typically like surprises.”

Emma glanced at her, eyes full of amusement. “Yeah, I figured. That’s why I planned something that I knew you’d enjoy.”

Regina arched a skeptical eyebrow. “And what, exactly, do you think I enjoy?”

Emma grinned. “You’ll see.”

They drove a little longer before Emma finally pulled into a secluded spot by the lake. The moon reflected off the still water, casting a soft glow over the area. Regina turned to Emma, eyes narrowing slightly.

“We’re going to sit by the lake?”

Emma smirked. “Not quite. Come on.”

She got out of the car, moving to the trunk, and Regina followed—albeit cautiously. When she reached Emma, she saw her pulling out a neatly packed picnic basket and a thick blanket.

Regina blinked. “You… planned a picnic?”

Emma glanced at her sheepishly. “Yeah. I figured restaurants are too formal for us, and I wanted something more us.”

Regina stared at her for a long moment, something warm curling in her chest. The effort Emma had put into this, the thoughtfulness behind it—it was unexpected in a way that left her feeling unsteady.

“I—” Regina stopped, cleared her throat, and tried again. “That’s… thoughtful.”

Emma’s grin softened. “I can be, you know.”

Regina exhaled a small laugh. “Yes, I suppose you can.”

They walked toward the lake’s edge, Emma laying out the blanket and pulling out food—an assortment of things Regina liked. Fresh bread, imported cheeses, a carefully chosen bottle of wine. It was far more than Regina had anticipated, and as they settled in, she found herself relaxing.

They ate, they talked. The conversation flowed so easily that Regina nearly forgot why she had been nervous in the first place. They shared memories of Henry growing up, old stories of their lives before Storybrooke, and small, quiet moments that neither had ever shared with anyone else.

At one point, Emma reached for the wine bottle at the same time as Regina, their fingers brushing. It was nothing, really—just a fleeting touch—but the air between them shifted.

Regina looked at Emma. Emma looked at Regina.

For the first time all night, silence fell between them—not awkward, but charged, waiting.

Emma swallowed, her voice quieter when she finally spoke. “This okay?”

Regina exhaled slowly. “Yes.”

Emma smiled softly. “Good.”

They didn’t rush anything. They sat close, sharing warmth beneath the stars, their fingers barely grazing between them.

It wasn’t the kind of first date Regina had ever expected.

The night air was crisp, carrying the scent of the lake and the faintest hint of pine from the woods surrounding them. The hum of crickets and the occasional splash of water against the shore were the only sounds between them for a while, and somehow, the quiet felt comfortable.

Regina let her gaze drift over the lake, the moonlight glinting off its surface. She took a slow sip of wine before glancing at Emma, who was leaning back on her elbows, eyes turned upward toward the sky.

“You know,” Emma mused, her voice easy and relaxed, “I don’t think I’ve ever really just sat and looked at the stars like this.”

Regina arched a brow. “What, in all your years as a wayward orphan, bounty hunter, and reluctant savior, you never took a moment for stargazing?”

Emma huffed a quiet laugh, turning her head to look at Regina. “Not really. Never had much reason to.”

Regina hummed thoughtfully, setting her glass down beside her. “And now you do?”

Emma didn’t answer right away. Instead, she let her gaze linger on Regina, her expression unreadable, but softer than Regina had ever seen before.

“Yeah,” she said at last. “Now I do.”

Regina felt her pulse stutter, a warmth blooming in her chest that had nothing to do with the wine. She looked away, suddenly feeling too seen, as though Emma’s words had peeled back a layer she wasn’t quite ready to expose.

“You really went through all this effort,” Regina said after a beat, her voice quieter now, “for me.”

Emma shifted, sitting up properly, her knee brushing against Regina’s. “Of course I did.” She smirked. “You’re kind of a big deal, you know.”

Regina rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t quite hide the way her lips curved upward. “You’re impossible.”

Emma grinned. “And yet, you’re still here.”

Regina exhaled a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

They fell into a comfortable silence again, their glasses of wine half-finished, the remnants of their picnic sitting between them. The air was cool, but not unpleasant, and Regina found herself instinctively pulling her wrap tighter around her shoulders.

Emma noticed.

Without a word, she shifted closer and draped the edge of her jacket over Regina’s arm, a silent offering of warmth.

Regina stilled.

It was such a simple thing, really—nothing grand, nothing dramatic. But it was Emma, and Emma had always been the type to act without thinking, to give without asking for anything in return.

Regina turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting Emma’s, and there it was again—that charge, that unspoken something humming in the space between them. The air seemed to thicken, pulsing with a quiet urgency neither of them dared to name.

Emma’s lips parted, as if she were about to say something, but she hesitated. Her expression flickered—part wonder, part restraint—as if she were walking a tightrope between impulse and caution.

Regina wasn’t sure who moved first—maybe it was both of them, drawn together by the same invisible pull—but before she could think better of it, their faces were close. Too close.

Emma’s breath ghosted across Regina’s skin, warm and shallow, and Regina’s own lungs forgot how to work. Her fingers curled against the edge of the blanket, trying to ground herself, but Emma’s gaze dropped—just for a second—to her lips, and it was all the permission Regina needed.

She closed the distance.

Their mouths met in a kiss that was anything but tentative. It was fierce, searching, months of unspoken tension igniting all at once. Emma’s hands found Regina’s waist, tugging her closer across the soft weave of the blanket, while Regina’s fingers threaded into Emma’s hair, anchoring herself in the moment.

The world around them—the rustling trees, the quiet lap of the lake—faded into a blur. All that remained was the heat between them, the press of mouths and the gasp of breath as the kiss deepened.

Regina felt herself falling—into the weight of Emma’s body, into the softness of the blanket beneath them, into the dizzying rush of feeling that threatened to swallow her whole. She hadn’t expected this—hadn’t planned for it—but in this moment, tangled in sunlight and limbs and the low hum of desire, it didn’t matter.

Emma shifted, pressing Regina gently back, their lips never breaking contact. Her hands were careful, reverent, like she was memorizing every inch she touched. And Regina—Regina let her.

For once, she didn’t think, didn’t resist. She gave in to the fire, the hunger, the sheer relief of not being alone in what she felt.

And when they finally broke apart, just for breath, Emma rested her forehead against Regina’s, both of them breathless, hearts pounding in sync.

“Wow,” Emma whispered, her voice a little rough.

Regina didn’t answer. She just smiled—small, stunned, and maybe a little scared—but real. Because now that the walls had cracked, she wasn’t sure she wanted to build them back up again.

Not with Emma.

Emma’s eyes searched Regina’s, both of them still breathless, their foreheads pressed together as the world slowly crept back in—but neither of them was ready to let go. Not yet.

Without a word, Emma leaned in again, her lips brushing against Regina’s in a softer, more deliberate kiss. This one was slower, less urgent, but no less intense. It was reverent, full of everything they hadn’t said and everything they now didn’t need to. Regina responded in kind, her hand finding Emma’s cheek, her thumb tracing a tender path along her jaw.

The warmth between them simmered, steady and electric. Each kiss blended into the next—some playful, others lingering—each one deepening the connection between them. Emma shifted closer, pressing her body against Regina’s, her hand sliding along the curve of her waist. Regina let out a quiet sigh, her fingers tangling in the hem of Emma’s shirt, the sensation of skin against skin igniting something deeper.

Neither of them spoke, words unnecessary in the way their bodies communicated—curious and open, aching and sure. They kissed like they were rediscovering something lost, or maybe uncovering something they never realized had always been there.

When Regina finally pulled back, just barely, her lips swollen and breath uneven, her eyes met Emma’s again—no masks, no defenses. Just a quiet honesty.

“You’re going to ruin me,” she whispered, her voice low, half-teasing, half-terrified.

Emma gave a crooked smile, brushing her nose against Regina’s. “Only if you let me.”

And with that, Regina pulled her back down, sealing the answer with another kiss.

The kiss deepened, slow and intense, as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of them and everything else had faded into silence. There was no sense of urgency—only the quiet, growing pull between them. The wind stirred the trees overhead, the faint rustle of leaves and the distant call of a bird the only background to the soft sounds of breath and shifting limbs.

Emma’s hand moved, not with boldness but with care, sliding beneath the hem of Regina’s blouse. Her fingertips brushed the soft, warm skin just above Regina’s waistband—light as a whisper. It wasn’t rushed, not some hungry reach for more, but an instinctive touch, the kind that said: I want to know you. I want to be here, with you.

Regina’s breath caught, and her body went still for a beat, like she wasn’t sure whether to lean into the touch or pull away from it. Emma felt that hesitation—the subtle shift of tension in Regina’s body—and immediately slowed, her hand stilling where it rested against her side.

But even in the quiet, there was a connection humming between them, a current that hadn’t dimmed. Emma kissed her again, softer now, as if to ask Is this still okay? with the gentle press of her lips instead of words.

Regina didn’t move away. Her fingers curled more tightly into the fabric of Emma’s shirt, anchoring herself there, her body warming again under Emma’s touch.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t seamless. But it was real—honest in the way that only something tentative and new could be.

Emma slowly pulled back just enough to search Regina’s face, the question in her eyes clear even before she spoke. “You okay?”

Regina’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze searching Emma’s. There was no judgment there—only concern, and something softer. Something patient.

“I’m not… there yet,” Regina said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I want to be. With you. I just… I need time.”

Emma’s expression softened even more, her thumb gently brushing across Regina’s cheekbone. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

Something in Regina’s chest loosened at those words. She didn’t know how to respond at first, so she leaned in, resting her forehead against Emma’s. The silence between them stretched, but it wasn’t awkward—it was understanding. Acceptance.

“Thank you,” Regina murmured. “For not making me feel like I have to be perfect.”

Emma let out a soft laugh, kissing her temple. “You’re already more than enough, Regina. Just as you are.”

Regina’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, letting the warmth of Emma’s words settle over her like a blanket. She didn’t remember the last time someone had told her she was enough—without conditions, without expectations. And it struck her more deeply than she wanted to admit.

But Emma was still there, her touch tender, her forehead resting against Regina’s as if anchoring them both in that quiet moment of truth.

Then, slowly, Regina pulled back just enough to look at Emma again. Her gaze was darker now—still soft, still cautious, but threaded with something new. A quiet hunger, a flicker of want she wasn’t afraid to acknowledge anymore. “That doesn’t mean that I want to stop…just can we just keep kissing for a while?” 

She reached up, her fingers weaving gently through Emma’s hair, and without another word, she pulled her back in—closer this time, with more certainty. Their mouths met again, the kiss resuming with a heat that had been quietly simmering just beneath the surface.

This time, it wasn’t about testing boundaries. It was about connection. Trust. The electric pull of lips and hands and breath shared in a space that finally felt safe.

Emma responded in kind, deepening the kiss as her hands cradled Regina’s waist, thumbs tracing soft, reverent circles against her skin. Regina sighed into the kiss, her fingers tightening in Emma’s hair, her heart thudding not with fear, but with anticipation.

They moved together in sync, the sun warm on their backs, the scent of pine and summer air all around them. And in that moment—just the two of them, tangled up on a picnic blanket in the woods—it didn’t matter what came next.

Because this was enough. And they were enough.

As the kiss deepened again, their bodies instinctively drawn closer, Emma felt the tension coil tighter in her core. Regina’s hands slid up along her shoulders, her lips soft but insistent, and Emma nearly groaned against her mouth. The way Regina kissed—slow, deliberate, and just shy of surrender—was undoing her completely.

Emma’s hand skimmed Regina’s back, the tips of her fingers brushing bare skin just beneath the blouse, and her control—already fraying—finally snapped.

She broke the kiss with a shaky laugh, pulling back just enough to press her forehead to Regina’s, her breath coming in uneven puffs.

“Okay,” she whispered, eyes still closed. “Time out. Time out.”

Regina blinked, surprised, her cheeks flushed, lips parted. “What’s wrong?” she asked softly, her voice slightly breathless.

Emma gave a small, half-laugh as she leaned back to look at her. “You,” she said, her voice low and honest, “have no idea the effect you have on me.”

Regina’s brows lifted, the faintest smirk playing at her lips, but there was a blush creeping up her neck too. “Oh?” she murmured, clearly pleased but trying to play coy. “Is that so?”

Emma gave her a look—half exasperated, half helpless. “Regina. I’m serious. If we don’t slow down, I’m going to forget every promise I just made about taking things slow.” She exhaled, trying to steady herself. “And I really want to keep that promise. For you.”

Regina’s smile softened, the teasing fading into something more tender. “That’s very noble of you, Sheriff Swan,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind Emma’s ear. “I appreciate it.”

Emma chuckled again, her hands still resting on Regina’s waist. “Yeah, well… you’re making it really hard.”

Regina laughed quietly and leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss against Emma’s cheek. “Come on,” she said, slipping her fingers through Emma’s. “Let’s take a walk before one of us breaks their own rules.”

Emma groaned dramatically but followed, her hand warm in Regina’s. “You’re going to be the death of me, Mills.”

Regina only smiled over her shoulder. “And you’ll love every second of it.”

***

The forest was quiet around them, the dappled sunlight breaking through the canopy in soft gold beams. Emma and Regina walked side by side, fingers laced together, their steps slow and unhurried. The leaves crunched faintly underfoot, birds chirped somewhere overhead, and for once, neither of them felt the weight of Storybrooke pressing in.

“It’s strange,” Emma said after a while, her voice quiet but thoughtful. “If someone told me a year ago I’d be walking through the woods holding your hand like this, I’d have laughed them out of the room.”

Regina glanced over at her, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “I probably would’ve hexed them.”

Emma chuckled. “We really didn’t make it easy on each other, did we?”

Regina shook her head. “No. But maybe that’s why it means more now. We earned this.”

Their eyes met, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. It was all there in the silence—the history, the friction, the pain, and the gradual shift into something deeper, something neither of them had expected but couldn’t deny.

Emma tugged gently on Regina’s hand, pulling her off the path and toward the trees. Regina arched an eyebrow. “Where are you taking me?”

Emma’s only answer was a grin before she backed Regina gently up against a tall pine, her hands sliding around her waist. Regina’s back met the bark with a soft thud, and her breath hitched just as Emma leaned in.

Their lips met again, the kiss instantly deeper than before—hungry and full of everything unsaid. Regina’s hands curled into Emma’s hair, anchoring her there as the space between them vanished. Emma pressed closer, one hand slipping under Regina’s jacket to rest against her waist, thumb brushing circles over the fabric of her blouse.

The kiss was urgent but controlled, as if they both knew they could get lost in this too easily—and were a little afraid of just how much they wanted to. When Emma finally pulled back, just enough to breathe, her forehead rested against Regina’s.

“This is crazy,” Emma whispered, a little dazed.

Regina was breathless, her lips slightly swollen from the kiss. “It is,” she agreed. “But I don’t want it to stop.”

Emma smiled, her thumb gently tracing the curve of Regina’s jaw. “Then it won’t.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other and the stillness of the woods—two women who’d once been enemies, now tethered by something much stronger than rivalry.

They were pressed together, lips locked in a kiss that was quickly spiraling into something heady and consuming. Regina’s fingers tangled in the fabric of Emma’s jacket, pulling her closer, and Emma responded in kind, her hands gripping Regina’s waist, anchoring her like she might drift away otherwise.

The world had narrowed to just them—heat, breath, the press of mouths and the quiet gasps between kisses—until a sharp, unmistakable buzz cut through the moment.

Emma groaned softly against Regina’s lips, reluctantly pulling back as the ringtone persisted.

Regina smirked. “Don’t you dare.”

Emma fished the phone out of her pocket with a sigh. “I have to. It could be important.”

She glanced at the screen. David. Of course.

She swiped to answer, trying to sound composed despite the fact that Regina’s hands were still resting suggestively low on her hips. “Hey, David.”

“Hey, just doing the nightly check-in,” David said, totally unaware. “Nothing major to report—though Leroy did fall off his porch again.”

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose, biting back a laugh. “Is he okay?”

Regina leaned in, lips grazing Emma’s neck, slow and deliberate.

Emma’s breath caught.

David continued, oblivious. “Yeah, just bruised his ego and maybe his wrist. But anyway, I logged the report—”

Regina’s lips trailed up to Emma’s jaw, feather-light kisses making her shiver. Emma swatted weakly at her with one hand, mouthing stop through a barely contained grin.

Regina did not stop.

Emma cleared her throat. “Thanks for the update, David, I—um—appreciate it.”

“Everything okay on your end?” David asked, his voice slightly suspicious.

That was when Regina, with wicked precision, plucked the phone right from Emma’s hand.

“This is Mayor Mills,” she said, calm and clipped, but with a definite undertone of amusement. “The sheriff is… preoccupied. Try again tomorrow.”

And with that, she hung up.

Emma burst into laughter, half-scandalized, half-impressed. “Regina! You can’t just hang up on my dad!”

Regina handed the phone back with a smug little smile. “He’ll survive. You, on the other hand, might not if you keep making me wait.”

Emma’s breath hitched again as Regina stepped closer, her voice dropping. “Now, where were we?”

Without another word, Emma kissed her like an answer.

***

The drive back to Regina’s house had been filled with quiet conversation and the occasional stolen glance. By the time Emma pulled into the driveway, the warmth of the night air seemed to wrap around them, carrying the scent of Regina’s roses from the garden.

Regina turned slightly in her seat, studying Emma for a moment before speaking. “Would you like to come in?” Her voice was soft, but there was something expectant in it, something unspoken hanging between them.

Emma exhaled a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of her neck. “You know I want to,” she admitted, eyes flicking toward the darkened house before settling back on Regina. “But I told you—I’m doing this properly.”

Regina tilted her head, arching a delicate brow. “And how exactly does Emma Swan define ‘proper’?”

Emma smirked but didn’t answer right away. Instead, she reached across the space between them, her fingers lightly brushing against Regina’s hand before she squeezed it gently. “Proper means not rushing this. Giving you the date you deserve.”

Regina rolled her eyes, but there was no real exasperation behind it—only a fondness she wasn’t entirely sure how to handle yet. “And making out like a bunch of horny teenagers all night, that was your idea of not rushing this?”

Emma let out a breathy laugh, then pushed open her door. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Regina blinked but nodded, stepping out of the car. The night was still, save for the faint rustle of the trees in the distance. As they reached the front steps, Regina turned to Emma, folding her arms as she leaned against the railing.

“So this is where I say goodnight, is it?”

Emma’s grin softened, her eyes warm in the dim light from the porch lantern. “Yeah. I think it is.”

Regina hummed, watching her carefully, but before she could say anything else, Emma reached up, tucking a strand of dark hair behind Regina’s ear. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a ripple of something electric through Regina’s spine.

And then, slowly, Emma leaned in.

The kiss was gentle, unhurried—nothing like the first one they’d shared, or the heated kisses in the forest. This one felt intentional, deliberate. A slow exploration rather than a stolen moment. Regina sighed into it, her hands coming up to rest lightly against Emma’s jacket, anchoring herself in the warmth of it.

Emma pulled back first, but only by a breath, her lips still hovering just over Regina’s. “I hate doing things properly,” she murmured, her voice rough, barely above a whisper.

Regina felt a smile tug at her lips. “Then why are you?”

Emma sighed dramatically, stepping back toward the porch steps. “Because you deserve it.”

Regina watched as she retreated toward the car, her heart thrumming in her chest. Just before Emma could open the driver’s side door, Regina called after her.

“Emma?”

Emma turned, eyebrows raised in question.

Regina smiled—soft, genuine, the kind of smile that felt rare and precious. “Tonight was perfect.”

Emma’s answering grin was nothing short of radiant. She gave Regina a two-fingered salute before sliding into the car.

As Regina stepped inside, closing the door behind her, she let out a quiet breath. Proper or not, this—whatever it was—felt like something worth waiting for.

Chapter Text

Regina set her coffee cup down with a decisive clink, leveling Emma with a serious look. “I think we should keep this between us for now.”

Emma, mid-sip of her own coffee, nearly choked. “Wait—you want to keep it a secret?”

Regina sighed, fingers toying with the handle of her cup. “Not a secret, exactly. I just—” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t want to deal with the inevitable town gossip. Not yet.”

Emma studied her for a moment, then leaned back in her chair, smirking. “You’re worried about Granny, aren’t you?”

Regina shot her a glare. “I’m worried about everyone,” she corrected. “This town has no concept of privacy. The second they find out, it’ll be all knowing smirks and subtle hints and Snow looking at me like I’m some kind of—” She waved a hand vaguely. “—miracle in your life.”

Emma bit her lip, clearly fighting back a grin. “Well, to be fair, you are kind of a miracle.”

Regina rolled her eyes. “That is not the point.”

Emma held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. We’ll keep it between us.” She paused. “For now.”

Regina nodded, satisfied. But before she could take another sip of coffee, Emma cleared her throat, looking far too pleased with herself.

“Speaking of keeping things between us… I may have already told my mom.”

Regina closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. “Of course you did.”

“In my defense,” Emma rushed to explain, “she cornered me. She said I looked happy and wouldn’t stop until I told her why.”

Regina sighed. “And how insufferable was she?”

Emma grinned. “Let’s just say she looked one step away from breaking out a ‘True Love’ banner and throwing us a ball.”

Regina groaned, rubbing her temples. “That woman is going to be impossible.”

Emma reached across the table, her fingers brushing against Regina’s wrist. “Hey,” she said softly, her teasing tone giving way to something gentler. “This is our thing. We decide when and how we tell people.”

Regina glanced down at their hands, her heart doing a traitorous little flip at the way Emma’s fingers curled around hers.

“Exactly,” she murmured, giving Emma’s hand a squeeze. “So for now, let’s just keep it simple.”

Emma smirked. “Simple, huh? You do realize we’re not exactly known for that, right?”

Regina huffed, shaking her head. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

Emma chuckled, lifting their joined hands to press a quick kiss to Regina’s knuckles. “Alright, Madam Mayor. Our secret’s safe.”

Regina arched a brow but didn’t pull away. “It better be.”

***

Regina had barely taken a sip of her tea when Granny gave her a knowing look over the counter. “So,” the older woman said casually, wiping down the bar, “you and the sheriff seem awfully… close these days.”

Regina froze, cup halfway to her lips. Across the diner, Emma was at the jukebox, pretending to pick a song but very obviously eavesdropping.

Regina schooled her expression into something neutral. “We’ve always been close. We share a son.”

Granny snorted. “Oh, sure. And I suppose that explains why you’ve both been walking around with the same stupid little smile for the past week.”

Regina felt her spine stiffen. “I don’t—”

“Uh-huh,” Granny cut her off, smirking. “And I suppose it’s totally normal for Emma to come in here every morning, grab two coffees, and practically skip on her way out.”

Regina shot a glare toward Emma, who—without turning around—raised a hand in surrender.

Granny leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Look, I don’t really care what’s going on between you two.” She smirked. “But if you’re trying to keep it a secret, you’re doing a pretty lousy job.”

Regina took a measured breath, setting her cup down carefully. “There is no secret.”

Granny raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. “Uh-huh. Well, when you’re ready to admit it, let me know. I’ll make a special dinner.”

Regina narrowed her eyes. “There’s nothing to admit.”

Granny chuckled, shaking her head. “Honey, I’ve been running this diner for decades. I know a thing when I see it.”

Regina opened her mouth, ready to argue, but then Emma appeared at her side, pressing a fresh cup of coffee into her hands as if she hadn’t just been listening to the whole thing.

“Morning, Madam Mayor,” Emma said, her voice light with amusement.

Regina took the coffee with a pointed look. “Sheriff.”

Granny just chuckled, wiping down the counter. “Oh yeah,” she muttered, just loud enough for them to hear. “Totally not a thing.”

Emma grinned and leaned in slightly. “I think we’ve been made.”

Regina sighed, shaking her head. “Remind me again why I agreed to this?”

Emma smirked. “Because you secretly like me.”

Regina huffed, taking a sip of her coffee. “Debatable.”

Granny just laughed. “Keep telling yourselves that, darlings.”

***

Regina’s back hit the couch cushions with a soft thud, and before she could gather her breath, Emma was there—her mouth pressed to hers in a kiss that was deep and unhurried, the kind that made time slow down. Emma’s fingers slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head as if she were something precious, something fragile and rare. Regina’s heart thudded in response, not from nerves, but from the undeniable certainty of it all—this closeness, this ache, this want.

It had started so simply. Dinner. A quiet meal between two people who had danced around each other for far too long. The kind of meal where laughter came easy, and lingering looks turned just a little too heavy, stretched just a little too long. When the plates had been cleared and the wine forgotten on the table, they’d simply kept talking. And somehow—like always—Emma had stayed. And somehow—like always—talking had turned into something more.

Regina wasn’t even sure when they’d shifted to the couch. One moment, she’d been teasing Emma about her terrible taste in movies; the next, their knees had brushed, then their hands, and now—now they were tangled together, mouths learning each other in a language that had nothing to do with words.

Emma’s lips moved to her neck, slow and deliberate, and Regina felt herself melt beneath the weight of every brush, every press. A quiet sigh slipped from her lips as her fingers gripped the front of Emma’s shirt, desperate to ground herself against the growing haze curling around her like smoke.

She tilted her head, granting Emma better access, and Emma didn’t hesitate. Her kisses were reverent, lingering against Regina’s skin like a promise. When her teeth grazed just below Regina’s ear, Regina gasped softly, her hand flying to Emma’s shoulder for balance.

There was something about the way Emma touched her—never demanding, always offering. Like she knew the bruises Regina carried on the inside and was determined to be gentle with every one of them.

Regina tugged at the hem of Emma’s shirt, not with urgency, but with a need to feel more of her, to close the gap that still somehow remained between them. Emma paused for just a moment, their eyes locking, and in that shared look was everything—trust, heat, care.

No words were needed.

And when Emma kissed her again, slower now, more reverent, Regina let herself surrender to it completely.

Emma felt Regina’s fingers tug at the hem of her shirt again, more insistent this time—not rushed, but purposeful. Her eyes flicked up to meet Regina’s, searching for hesitation, for a flicker of doubt. But there was none. Only the steady flame in Regina’s gaze, her breath slightly uneven, her lips parted in expectation.

With a small, daring smile, Emma pulled back just enough to grab the hem of her shirt and, in one fluid motion, lifted it over her head, tossing it somewhere behind the couch. The movement was fast, confident, almost playful—and it left her in a tight black tank top that hugged her figure and revealed just enough to make Regina’s breath hitch.

For a split second, Regina froze, her eyes traveling over the newly revealed skin, her throat working around a swallow she didn’t quite manage to hide. Emma didn’t give her time to think, to retreat into her head.

She leaned back in, bracing a hand beside Regina’s head as she returned to her lips with renewed intensity. The kiss was heady, electrifying, all warmth and sensation. Regina welcomed her back with a soft, eager sound that caught in her throat, her hands sliding up Emma’s sides now, feeling the heat of her through the thin cotton of the tank top.

The pressure between them deepened, but it was still unhurried, careful in its passion. Emma kissed her like they had all the time in the world, like nothing existed beyond this room, this moment, this quiet unfolding of something far bigger than either of them could name.

Emma’s lips trailed down Regina’s neck with an intensity that matched the growing heat between them. The soft skin beneath her mouth sent a shiver through both of them, the moment thick with desire. Her hands gripped Regina’s waist, pulling her closer, as their kisses became more urgent, more unrestrained.

Then, as Emma pressed her lips firmly against the tender spot on Regina’s neck, she accidentally left a deeper mark than intended—a love bite that stood out against Regina’s skin.

Regina gasped, a sharp intake of breath, her body going rigid beneath Emma for a moment. Her hand flew up to her neck, fingers brushing over the spot where Emma’s mouth had lingered a moment too long. The skin was already tender, and she could feel the faint, unmistakable sting of a forming mark.

Emma froze, instantly sensing the shift. She pulled back, her expression a mix of guilt and concern. “Oh no—I didn’t mean to leave a mark,” she said quickly, eyes searching Regina’s face. “I’m sorry, I just… got caught up.”

Regina turned her head slightly, still touching her neck, her brow furrowed. “You did,” she muttered, not looking at her. “And it’s going to bruise.” Her voice was sharp, but not cold.

Emma opened her mouth to apologize again, but then she saw it—the faint flush rising on Regina’s cheeks, the way her chest rose and fell just a little quicker than before. Regina’s annoyance was real, but so was the heat in her eyes, that low smolder of desire she didn’t bother hiding.

Regina sighed, shaking her head with a reluctant, almost amused huff. “Honestly, Emma. You’re like a teenager.”

Emma smirked, daring to lean in a little closer. “You weren’t exactly pushing me away.”

Regina shot her a look, but it didn’t quite reach indignation. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to be branded.”

Emma’s grin widened. “Admit it—you’re a little turned on.”

Regina arched an eyebrow, clearly trying not to smile. “I’m annoyed,” she said coolly. Then, after a beat, she added, “But… maybe I’m not entirely opposed to being wanted.”

Emma’s breath caught at the confession, and without another word, she leaned back in—slower this time, her mouth finding Regina’s again, her hand slipping around her waist. Regina didn’t resist; her fingers curled into the fabric of Emma’s shirt as the kiss deepened, her irritation melting away into something warmer, hungrier.

The mark still tingled on her neck, a reminder of Emma’s intensity. And despite herself, Regina couldn’t stop thinking about how much she liked the way it made her feel.

Then, suddenly—

Bloop. Bloop. Bloop.

The unmistakable sound of a video call filled the room. Regina groaned, head dropping back against the cushions. Emma let out a huff of frustration against her collarbone.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Emma muttered.

Regina grabbed blindly for the coffee table where her phone sat, still vibrating with the call. One glance at the screen, and she groaned again. “Shit! It’s Henry.”

Emma shot up instantly, shifting off of her, scrambling to sit properly and reaching over the back of the couch to find her shirt. “Answer it!” she whisper-hissed, running a hand through her messy hair.

Regina gave her a look before taking a moment to adjust her blouse, smooth her hair to hide the love bite on her neck, and not look like she’d just been making out with the town’s sheriff. Finally, she accepted the call, holding the phone at a very deliberate, high angle.

“Henry!” she said, far too bright.

Henry’s grinning face filled the screen. “Hey, Mom! Just checking in—why do you look weird?”

Regina’s face remained perfectly poised. “I do not look weird.”

Henry squinted. “Yeah, you kinda do. And—” His eyes flickered past her, catching Emma beside her on the couch. “Wait, is that Emma?”

Emma, still slightly out of breath, waved awkwardly. “Hey, kid.”

Henry’s brows lifted. “You’re always at the house lately.”

Regina cleared her throat, shifting in her seat. “Emma and I are—” She hesitated, glancing at Emma.

Emma smirked, clearly enjoying watching Regina flounder. “Friends, right?” she offered innocently.

Regina’s glare was swift and lethal. “Yes,” she said through gritted teeth. “Friends.”

Henry frowned, not looking convinced. “Okay… well, anyway, I was just calling to say hi. Campus is great, classes are tough, but I’m handling it. Oh, and Mom—” His face turned mischievous. “You sure you don’t have anything to tell me?”

Regina schooled her expression into one of perfect indifference. “Why would I?”

Henry shrugged. “I dunno. Granny said something about you and Emma acting different lately.”

Regina inhaled sharply. Emma coughed.

“Oh, did she?” Regina said, tone measured.

Henry smirked. “Yeah. But, whatever. I’m just saying… if there’s something going on, you could tell me.”

Regina arched a brow. “Are you implying something?”

Henry held up his hands. “Nope. Just making an observation.”

Emma bit her lip, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Regina kicked her.

“Well,” Regina said smoothly, “perhaps you should focus on your studies instead of gossip.”

Henry chuckled. “Fine, fine. But, uh… maybe next time I call, you could answer a little faster?”

Regina’s mouth parted slightly. Emma outright snorted.

“Love you, Mom!” Henry grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “You too, Ma.”

And with that, the call ended.

Regina let out a slow, controlled breath, setting the phone down with excruciating care.

Emma lasted all of two seconds before bursting into laughter. “He knows.”

Regina scowled. “He does not.”

“Oh, come on,” Emma said, still grinning. “He totally knows.”

Regina sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I hate this town.”

Emma chuckled, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah, well… at least we put on a good show.”

Regina shot her a dry look. “You are not helping.”

Emma just smirked. “Wasn’t trying to.”

***

Regina sat at the head of the long table in Town Hall, fingers drumming impatiently as the meeting dragged on. The storm damage had long since been repaired, yet somehow, Storybrooke still found things to complain about.

Emma, seated beside her, was barely paying attention. She was twirling a pen between her fingers, leaning back in her chair with that infuriatingly relaxed posture. Regina knew exactly why. Emma had been watching her all morning, throwing her little smirks, subtly brushing her knee under the table.

It was distracting.

And, worse, it was working.

She could feel the eyes of the town on her, knew that Granny, Snow, and several other nosy citizens had been watching her and Emma for weeks. She had insisted on keeping things private a little longer, and Emma—mostly—had respected that.

Until now.

“Alright,” Regina sighed, pressing a hand to her temple. “If there are no further—”

“We still need to discuss the funding for the school’s updated security measures,” Snow chimed in, ever the dedicated civic leader.

Regina fought the urge to groan. She was exhausted, and quite frankly, all she wanted was to get home, change into something comfortable, and let Emma distract her from the town’s never-ending problems.

Emma leaned forward, flipping through a few pages of notes. “Didn’t we already approve that last month?”

Snow frowned. “We did, but the new system is going to require—”

“I hate to interrupt,” Emma said, cutting her off, “but can’t this wait? Gina’s been dealing with—fuck.”

Silence.

Absolute, deafening silence.

Regina blinked. The entire room froze.

Emma’s own face registered the mistake mid-word, her lips pressing shut so fast it was almost comical.

Regina slowly turned her head to look at her, arching a single, perfectly sculpted brow.

Emma cleared her throat. “I mean… uh, Madam Mayor.”

The whispers started immediately.

“Did she just call her Gina?”

“They’re definitely together.”

“Well, duh.”

Snow’s lips twitched, clearly trying not to smile. Granny folded her arms and smirked knowingly.

Regina closed her eyes briefly. Of course.

When she opened her eyes, the entire room was staring at her, waiting—not a whisper, not a movement, just a wall of wide-eyed townspeople frozen in collective anticipation. The weight of their stares pressed against her like a physical force, but Regina stood her ground.

She drew in a breath, deliberate and steady, smoothing the front of her deep plum blazer as if the motion might settle the flurry of tension curling in her stomach. Then, with the kind of poise only years of political maneuvering and self-control could teach, she rose to her feet.

“Yes,” she said, voice crisp and unwavering. “Sheriff Swan and I are seeing each other.”

The declaration hung in the air for a heartbeat before a ripple of murmurs swept through the room like a gust of wind. Some people looked surprised, others curious. A few exchanged knowing glances—no doubt revisiting every interaction they’d ever witnessed between her and Emma through a fresh lens. Regina saw it all, absorbed it all, and still didn’t flinch.

Her gaze swept across the room—firm, commanding, daring anyone to challenge her. “Now that we’ve all satisfied our curiosity,” she continued, tone cooling by a few degrees, “can we move on to the agenda? Or would someone like to submit a motion to have my personal life added to public record?”

A few people chuckled awkwardly. Granny smirked behind her coffee cup. Archie adjusted his glasses, looking anywhere but at Regina. Regina raised an eyebrow, waiting. When no one spoke, she gave a tight, satisfied nod.

“Good. Then let’s return to the budget discussion before we lose any more time.”

She sat back down with the kind of sharp grace only Regina Mills could manage, folding her hands neatly on the table, ignoring the lingering gazes still pointed her way. Her expression remained unreadable, but beneath the surface, her pulse thudded hard in her throat—equal parts nerves and pride.

Emma leaned in close, her voice soft and low, her breath warm against Regina’s ear.

“You realize that was insanely hot, right?” she whispered, her tone thick with admiration and a hint of mischief. “The second this meeting ends, I’m going to kiss you like I’ve been dying to all day.”

Regina didn’t look at her, but her posture shifted ever so slightly—shoulders a bit less rigid, chin just a touch higher. A smile ghosted across her lips, controlled but unmistakably pleased.

“Try to contain yourself until then,” she murmured, her voice cool but threaded with something unmistakably electric.

Emma chuckled under her breath. “No promises.”

Emma’s fingers brushed lightly against Regina’s beneath the table, testing the waters before lacing their hands together with quiet certainty. Regina didn’t pull away—instead, she let her fingers curl naturally into Emma’s, her grip warm, deliberate.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The meeting carried on around them, voices droning about mundane town concerns, but all Emma could focus on was the smooth glide of Regina’s thumb moving slowly against her skin. It was a simple touch, hidden from view, but it anchored them both in a way that words couldn’t.

Regina’s eyes remained fixed on the speaker, her face the picture of poise, but the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. Without looking, she gave Emma’s hand a small, pointed squeeze—a silent message that said I know exactly what you’re doing… and I’m letting you.

Emma leaned back slightly in her chair, her grin growing. This quiet defiance, this secret between them under the polished surface of professionalism—it made her want to skip the rest of the meeting entirely.

As the meeting dispersed and the last of the townspeople filtered out, Snow and David made their way over to Emma and Regina, both wearing wide smiles—Snow’s with a touch too much innocence to be believable.

“Well,” Snow began, clasping her hands in front of her. “That was… quite the announcement.” She looked between them, feigning surprise. “I had no idea.”

Regina raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Please, Snow. Emma already told me you knew.”

Emma stifled a laugh while Snow put a hand to her chest in mock offense. “What? Me? No…”

David glanced at her in confusion. “Wait, you knew?”

Snow gave a sheepish shrug. “It was obvious.”

Emma leaned closer to Regina with a smirk. “Told you she’s a terrible liar.”

Regina sighed, though there was amusement in her eyes. “Yes, well. At least now we don’t have to pretend.”

David nodded, clearly still catching up but smiling all the same. “Well… I’m glad. I mean it. You two seem good together.”

Regina glanced sideways at Emma, who gave her a wink. “We are.”

Snow grinned. “So when’s dinner?”

Emma groaned. “You two never give up, do you?”

***

The evening light poured in through the living room windows, casting a warm glow over the space where Emma and Regina sat curled together on the couch. A soft blanket was draped across their legs, and Regina rested with her head on Emma’s chest, eyes half-closed, lulled by the steady rhythm of Emma’s fingers gently combing through her hair.

For a long moment, there was only silence between them—comfortable, easy.

Then Emma spoke, her voice quiet but full of care. “You okay with everyone knowing now?”

Regina’s sigh was soft against her shoulder. “Not everyone,” she murmured, fingers idly tracing the hem of Emma’s shirt. “We still have to tell Henry.”

Emma nodded, her hand never stopping its soothing motion through Regina’s dark waves. “Yeah. We will. When you’re ready.”

Regina shifted slightly, tilting her head to look up at her. “Maybe tomorrow. For now…” She settled again, curling in closer, “I just want to be here. In your arms.”

Emma smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Then that’s exactly where you’ll stay.”

Regina was quiet for a moment, eyes tracing the pattern of Emma’s shirt as her fingers idly toyed with the fabric. Then, her voice came soft, almost tentative. “Would you like to stay the night?”

Emma’s brows lifted with a slow, teasing smile, her tone playful. “Oh? And what exactly do you mean by ‘stay the night,’ Madame Mayor?”

Regina didn’t rise to the bait. She gave her a level look, though the corner of her mouth quirked slightly. “I mean sleeping, Sheriff. As in resting. Fully clothed. On opposite sides of the bed, if necessary.”

Emma chuckled, her arm tightening slightly around Regina. “Mm-hmm. Very proper of you.”

Regina rolled her eyes, but there was affection behind it. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

Emma leaned in and kissed her temple. “I’d love to stay. And I promise to behave.”

“For now,” Regina muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Emma to hear.

Emma grinned. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Regina said primly, but the glint in her eye betrayed her amusement as she settled back into the warmth of Emma’s arms.

***

The bathroom door clicked open, and Regina stepped into the bedroom, tying the sash of her silk robe around her waist. She was still dabbing moisturizer onto her hands when she noticed Emma standing by the bed, barefoot and still in Regina’s borrowed sleep shorts and her own tank top.

Emma looked up sheepishly. “Hey.”

Regina arched a brow, amused. “You’ve been standing there for ten minutes.”

Emma scratched the back of her neck. “I didn’t want to… I don’t know. Just climb into your bed like I own the place.”

A soft smile tugged at Regina’s lips, and she crossed the room slowly. “You’re not intruding, Emma.”

Emma’s gaze flicked to her, hopeful but uncertain.

Regina stopped at her side of the bed and turned down the covers, then extended her hand. “Come here.”

Emma hesitated for a moment longer before slipping her hand into Regina’s. Their fingers laced together naturally, easily, as if they’d done it a hundred times before.

Regina gave her a gentle tug, guiding her to the bed, and they both slid beneath the covers. The silence between them was comfortable, warm.

Once settled, Emma glanced over at her. “This okay?”

Regina turned on her side to face her, a trace of a smile still playing on her lips. “Yes,” she said softly. “This is more than okay.”

Emma moved closer, her arm sliding gently around Regina’s hip, pulling their bodies together. The closeness was comforting, but it stirred something deeper within her that she wasn’t sure how to name.

She looked down at Regina, her voice low and a little hesitant. “And this?” she asked, her breath catching slightly as she waited for Regina’s response.

Regina met her eyes and gave a small, soft nod, her hand resting lightly on Emma’s arm. “This is fine,” she said, her voice quiet but steady, “It feels right.”

Emma let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, but her nervousness didn’t completely fade. She shifted slightly, her thumb tracing the edge of Regina’s shirt. “I’m still nervous though,” she admitted, a slight unease in her tone. “I mean… this feels really good, but it’s just… new, you know?”

Regina took a deep breath, the air between them charged with an unspoken understanding. She turned slightly more onto her side to face Emma fully, her hand moving from Emma’s arm to rest lightly on her back. “I understand. I haven’t shared a bed with anyone in a long time either,” she confessed softly. “It’s… it’s different, and a little intimidating, but I want this. I want you.”

Emma’s heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in Regina’s voice. She shifted, her face softening. “Good,” she whispered, the tension in her body easing just a little more. “Me too.”

The words hung in the air between them, quiet but full of meaning, and for the first time, Emma felt like she could relax completely in Regina’s arms.

Regina’s eyes softened as she tucked a lock of Emma’s hair behind her ear, then pulled her closer, the warmth of their bodies becoming the only thing that mattered in the moment.

As the night stretched on and the comfort of each other’s presence grew, Emma felt the warmth between them begin to shift in a new, daring direction. She couldn’t help but let her thoughts wander, a playful curiosity bubbling up within her.

“Regina,” Emma began softly, her voice filled with a mixture of amusement and uncertainty, “what are the rules on kissing… when we’re, you know, tangled up in bed like this?” She lifted her head just enough to look at Regina, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Regina’s breath caught for a split second, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She turned her face to meet Emma’s gaze, her eyes dark with something unspoken. “Rules?” she murmured, a teasing edge to her voice. She leaned in slightly, her lips brushing Emma’s ear as she added, “There are no rules, Emma. Not when it comes to kissing.”

Emma’s heart skipped a beat at Regina’s words, the playful tension in the air now crackling with something more. “So, kissing while tangled up is… encouraged?” Emma asked, her tone turning more flirtatious, a small grin spreading across her face.

Regina chuckled softly, the sound low and soothing, her fingers gently tracing patterns on Emma’s arm. “Encouraged,” she repeated, her voice dropping slightly, “and highly recommended.”

Emma’s grin widened, and before she could stop herself, she leaned in, pressing her lips to Regina’s in a slow, deliberate kiss. It was gentle at first, but as the moments stretched on, the kiss deepened, the playful nature of their conversation melting away, replaced by the undeniable pull between them.

As they pulled back, their foreheads rested together, both of them breathing a little heavier. “I think I like those rules,” Emma whispered, her voice husky with a hint of amusement.

Regina smiled, her eyes soft but filled with an intensity that made Emma’s heart race. “Good,” she murmured, “because I plan on making you follow them.”

Chapter Text

The soft glow of morning filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle light across the room. Emma stirred, her body still warm and heavy with the comfort of sleep, as she began to slowly regain consciousness. Her first awareness was the feeling of Regina’s arms wrapped securely around her, pulling her close in the intimate quiet of the early morning. Emma felt the weight of Regina’s body, the soft rise and fall of her chest, and the warmth that radiated from her skin. It was a cocoon of comfort that she didn’t want to leave.

Emma shifted slightly, trying to focus her thoughts, but everything felt hazy in the best way possible. She was tangled up in the soft sheets, Regina’s body pressed against hers. Her legs were entwined with Regina’s, the warmth between them like an unspoken promise. Emma’s head rested comfortably on the pillow, with Regina’s body an anchor that kept her grounded in this peaceful moment.

It took a moment for Emma to realize that Regina’s robe—unbelted and loose—was draped carelessly off her shoulders. The silk of it brushed against Emma’s bare skin, cool but comforting. Emma could feel the heat radiating off of Regina’s body, even with the robe, and she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of how she’d woken up like this, wrapped up in the arms of someone who had, only recently, become such a pivotal part of her life.

But what surprised her the most was the way their bodies fit together so naturally, like they’d been doing this for years. She could feel Regina’s breath on her neck, the rise and fall of her chest as it slowed in sync with Emma’s. Everything about this moment was right. And yet, a new awareness crept in—the feel of Regina’s hand under Emma’s tank top, her fingers resting lightly on Emma’s toned stomach, just above the waistband of her sleep shorts. The touch was soft, but not accidental.

For a moment, Emma didn’t move, just basked in the comfort of the intimacy between them. It was almost as if they were frozen in time, neither of them wanting to disrupt the peace of the morning. The weight of Regina’s hand felt like an anchor, grounding her, but also sparking something deeper within Emma. It was as if the simple touch said so much more than words ever could, a promise of more that Emma wasn’t sure she was ready for, but couldn’t deny.

Emma took a slow, steady breath, feeling the delicate pressure of Regina’s fingers against her skin. She closed her eyes, her mind drifting back to the previous night—the quiet moments of shared laughter, whispered secrets, and stolen kisses. How everything had shifted between them in the simplest of ways. The slow, unhurried rhythm of their connection, built on trust and tentative steps, was now something Emma couldn’t imagine living without.

Regina stirred beside her, her body shifting slightly, and Emma could feel the heat of her breath against her neck. Her fingers moved slightly, pressing just enough into Emma’s skin to send a shiver of pleasure through her body. It was as if Regina was still half in a dream, her touch guided by an instinct that Emma could feel, even in the softness of sleep.

“Good morning,” Regina whispered, her voice rough with the remnants of sleep but somehow still steady. She nuzzled Emma’s neck, the gesture tender, almost shy, as if unsure of how Emma would respond.

Emma smiled and tilted her head back to give Regina more room. The kiss that followed was slow, soft—a continuation of the unspoken connection they’d started the night before. Emma’s lips met Regina’s in a kiss that was at once familiar and new, a quiet exploration, like two people who knew each other’s souls but were still learning the nuances of each other’s hearts.

When the kiss broke, Emma let out a small laugh, low and content. “I think we might be in trouble,” she teased, her voice hushed but filled with affection. “I’m starting to really like waking up like this.”

Regina’s hand slid further under Emma’s tank top, fingers tracing the outline of Emma’s abs. “Me too,” she murmured, her voice warm, though there was a hint of mischief in her tone. “Though I might get used to this being our new normal.”

Emma turned her head just enough to meet Regina’s eyes, her heart fluttering at the sight of the smile that tugged at the corners of Regina’s lips. It was a smile that said everything—the uncertainty of new beginnings, the fear of vulnerability, but also the undeniable pull that made them want to stay, want to explore, want to continue.

“I could get used to this too,” Emma admitted softly. Her eyes lingered on Regina’s, and for a moment, she forgot about everything else—the world outside, the people waiting for them, the responsibilities that always loomed. In this moment, there was only Regina. Only this bed, this quiet, this peace that Emma had never quite felt before.

Regina’s thumb stroked the side of Emma’s stomach, and her gaze softened, her breath shallow. “We have all the time in the world,” Regina said, her voice steady, but there was something more there. A longing that matched Emma’s.

They stayed like that for a while longer, their bodies tangled in sheets and each other, not needing to say much, just being. Emma’s heart felt full, in a way she had never experienced before. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t forced. It was just them, in a space that felt like home.

But Emma couldn’t ignore the pang of anticipation that stirred in her chest, that quiet promise that this—whatever this was between them—had only just begun.

And she was ready for it. Ready for more mornings like this, more stolen moments, and more of Regina’s warmth, both in her arms and in her heart. She pulled Regina closer, their bodies pressed together, and whispered against her skin, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything.”

Regina hummed softly, her lips grazing Emma’s forehead. “Good. Because neither have I.”

Regina reluctantly pulled herself away from Emma, her body protesting the distance as she slipped out of bed. The warmth of Emma’s body lingered in the space between them, and for a moment, Regina closed her eyes, taking a quiet breath, before walking toward the small bedside cabinet.

She reached for her glasses, sliding them on, the familiar weight of them comforting. The cool air of the room hit her skin, and she straightened her robe, pulling the satin fabric tighter around her body as she moved around the room. There was a certain grace to her movements—everything she did had a quiet elegance, as if even the simplest actions were part of a perfectly choreographed dance. Emma watched her, propped up on her elbows, her chin resting on the pillow, eyes tracing every motion.

Emma’s voice broke the silence, soft but full of sincerity. “You know, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Regina paused in the middle of fixing the robe, her breath catching slightly. She glanced over at Emma, her heart fluttering in her chest at the genuine warmth in Emma’s gaze. It was always hard for Regina to accept compliments, especially of this magnitude. She was accustomed to people seeing her strength, her power, her ability to command, but not often the softness that Emma seemed to effortlessly see.

Regina let out a quiet laugh, a little embarrassed. “Flattery doesn’t suit you, Emma,” she teased, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed the fact that Emma’s words had touched something deep inside her.

Emma shifted slightly, her gaze never leaving Regina. “I’m serious. You don’t see it, do you?” She paused, her voice soft but clear. “I don’t just mean how you look. I mean everything. The way you carry yourself, the way you are with people, the way you’re with me. It’s not just beauty. It’s… you.”

Regina stood still for a moment, processing Emma’s words. It wasn’t often that someone could put her into such a vulnerable space, but with Emma, it felt different. She didn’t have to hide behind her usual walls. There was something in Emma’s eyes, something steady and sure, that made it easy to let go. Easy to feel safe.

“Emma…” Regina’s voice trailed off, and she stepped closer to the bed, her fingers lightly brushing the frame of the headboard. “You always know exactly what to say.” Her voice was quieter now, almost uncertain, as she looked down at Emma, who was still lying there, watching her intently.

Emma grinned, a little mischief dancing in her eyes. “What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.”

Regina couldn’t help but smile back, her heart still racing from Emma’s words. She had a way of making Regina feel seen in a way that few others did. For a moment, everything felt easy, unguarded. And it was a feeling Regina hadn’t realized she needed, hadn’t realized she craved until it was right in front of her.

“Maybe you’re not so bad at flattery after all,” Regina said, her voice teasing but filled with a soft affection that she wasn’t even trying to hide.

Emma chuckled, her eyes twinkling as she shifted to get more comfortable. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She stretched out on the bed, watching Regina with an expression that was far too knowing for Emma’s own good.

Regina straightened, trying to regain some semblance of composure, but she couldn’t help the warmth that spread through her chest at the ease of their exchange. Emma’s words had shattered something inside her—something she didn’t know she was holding onto—leaving her feeling lighter, more open. And, though she hated to admit it, a little more vulnerable.

Emma propped herself up on her elbows, a soft smile on her lips. “I meant what I said. I know you don’t always see it, but I do. Every little thing that makes you… you. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, Regina.”

Regina stood still for another moment, caught in Emma’s gaze, unsure of how to respond. But she didn’t have to say anything. The words were there, hanging in the air between them. She didn’t need to express the gratitude she felt in that moment because Emma had already said it for her, in the most genuine way possible.

With a deep breath, Regina finally nodded, her lips curling into a small, appreciative smile. “Thank you, Emma.”

Emma’s gaze softened, and she reached out, her hand brushing against Regina’s, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes. There was nothing more to say, no need for more words. The silence was comfortable, easy between them, and in that quiet, Regina allowed herself to finally believe what Emma had said. Maybe, just maybe, she was enough—just as she was.

***

Regina moved around the kitchen with a quiet grace, the soft sound of sizzling eggs filling the air as she worked, but it wasn’t just the breakfast that had her heart racing. Every so often, she would glance over at Emma, who was still in her pajamas, perched on one of the stools by the counter. The two of them, tangled in the lazy joy of a morning spent together, were a far cry from the world outside, and Regina couldn’t help but feel that rare sense of peace that came when nothing else mattered except for the two of them.

As she moved to flip the eggs, Emma couldn’t resist slipping behind her, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her neck. It was a brief, innocent kiss—one that spoke more of affection than anything else—but Regina’s breath caught anyway. Emma’s lips were warm against her skin, and when she pulled away, Regina was left momentarily frozen, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

Emma watched her from behind with a playful grin. “You didn’t think I was just going to let you cook all alone, did you?” she teased, moving to sit at the counter, arms propped on her elbows as she watched Regina with an intensity that only Emma could manage.

Regina smirked, her heart fluttering in that familiar way. “I can handle myself in the kitchen, Emma,” she replied, but there was an undeniable warmth in her voice. She couldn’t quite mask the effect Emma had on her, not today.

Emma leaned forward slightly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I know you can. But I wanted to be close to you.” Her tone softened, her voice quieter. “This is the best part of waking up.”

Regina’s chest tightened at the sincerity in Emma’s words. She finished plating the eggs and placed the dish on the table, moving to grab the coffee as she tried to hide the flush creeping up her neck. “It’s just breakfast,” she replied softly, trying to downplay the depth of Emma’s sentiment, but her heart was already betraying her.

Emma’s gaze followed Regina as she moved around, her attention unwavering. “No,” Emma murmured, her voice steady and sure. “It’s more than that.”

Regina was about to respond, but before she could, Emma stood and walked over to her, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Without warning, Emma pulled Regina toward her, settling her gently into her lap. Regina’s breath hitched as Emma wrapped her arms around her waist, drawing her closer.

“Emma,” Regina whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she felt the warmth of Emma’s chest against her back. “What are you doing?”

Emma shrugged, a playful grin spreading across her face. “I’m making sure I’m the first thing you feel in the morning. Not that you seemed to mind last night.”

Regina laughed softly, shaking her head, though her pulse quickened at the feeling of Emma’s arms around her. It felt too good—too right. She let herself settle into Emma’s embrace, resting against her shoulder, the familiar scent of her skin mixing with the warmth of the morning light that streamed through the windows.

They sat there, eating breakfast together, sharing soft glances and stolen moments. Every time Regina reached for the plate or a glass of juice, Emma’s hand would subtly drift over to her waist, fingers brushing against the fabric of her shirt. The touch was small, but it sent an electric current through Regina’s body every time.

“What are you thinking about?” Emma asked softly, her voice low and gentle as she brushed a strand of hair from Regina’s face.

Regina paused for a moment, her fork hovering in mid-air. “How lucky I am,” she murmured, barely above a whisper. She had never felt anything like this before—this ease, this contentment, like all the pieces of her life were finally clicking into place, one tender moment at a time.

Emma’s smile softened, her lips just brushing against the side of Regina’s neck as she pressed a kiss there, lingering for a moment before pulling back slightly to meet Regina’s eyes. “I’m the lucky one,” she said quietly, her voice sincere.

Regina smiled, a genuine smile that reached her eyes, the kind that wasn’t often seen outside the walls she’d built around herself. She leaned back slightly, looking up at Emma, her heart swelling with a love she hadn’t known was possible.

They finished their breakfast, the quiet of the morning broken only by soft laughter and the occasional kiss that Emma would steal from her. It was the kind of morning Regina hadn’t known she needed—just the two of them, completely at ease, letting time slow down as they explored this new, uncharted territory of tenderness together. There was no rush, no pressure—only the certainty that in this moment, they were exactly where they were meant to be.

Regina sat for a moment longer, enjoying the softness of Emma’s embrace, her body nestled in her arms. But eventually, the reality of the day crept in. There were things to do, places to be, and even though she wished the morning could last forever, it was time to face the world again.

Reluctantly, she eased herself off Emma’s lap and stood, stretching her arms above her head. Her muscles ached pleasantly, a reminder of how cozy the morning had been. She glanced over her shoulder at Emma, who was looking at her with a lazy smile, still half-dazed from their quiet, tender morning together.

“Stay here,” Regina said, a playful tone in her voice, though there was a hint of hesitation as she spoke. She didn’t want to pull herself away, not just yet. But there were things to do.

Emma raised an eyebrow, the mischievous glint in her eyes returning. “What’s the rush?” she teased, still lounging on the couch. “I think you’re doing just fine with this whole staying-in-your-pajamas thing.”

Regina smirked, a glimmer of warmth in her gaze. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ll need you to try and behave yourself while I get ready.”

Emma grinned, her eyes never leaving Regina as she turned toward the bedroom. “I’ll try,” she called after her, a chuckle escaping her lips.

Regina made her way to her bedroom, her steps slow and deliberate. She felt a little out of place—like her body wasn’t quite ready to leave this blissful cocoon they’d created—but with a deep breath, she steadied herself. She reached for her contacts, slipping them in with practiced ease, before she pulled out the clothes she’d carefully selected for the day.

The mirror in her bedroom reflected back the woman she was when she wasn’t wrapped up in the intimacy of the moment—a confident, composed leader who still carried the weight of her responsibilities. But there was something else now, something new, a softness in her gaze, a lightness to her posture. Emma had that effect on her.

Once the contacts were in place, she brushed her hair back, securing it in a sleek, controlled style that matched the crisp black slacks she slid into. The deep red blouse she picked out was a statement in itself—bold, yet elegant, the color drawing attention to her, but not demanding it. She pulled the blouse over her head, adjusting it until it sat perfectly on her frame, the fabric hugging her curves in a way that she knew Emma would appreciate.

She looked in the mirror for a moment, taking in the reflection. It wasn’t just about the clothes—it was how she felt. She felt different. More open. More alive. And it was a feeling she hadn’t realized she’d been missing, not until Emma had come into her life.

Regina exhaled, running a hand through her hair one last time. She was ready for the day. But, as she grabbed her glasses and placed them on the counter, she paused, a thought crossing her mind. She wouldn’t let the day drag her down. Not today.

She walked back into the living room, a sense of confidence radiating from her as she stood in the doorway. Emma was still lounging on the couch, but her eyes lit up when she saw Regina.

“Wow,” Emma breathed, her voice full of admiration. She couldn’t help but let her eyes trace over Regina’s figure, her gaze lingering on the curve of her hips and the elegance in her posture. “You’re stunning.”

Regina gave a small, playful smile, but there was something else in her eyes—a hint of something deeper. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice filled with a sincerity that only Emma could elicit. “But I think you’re the one who looks stunning today.”

Emma smiled warmly, her eyes softening. “Well, if I’m half as stunning as you, I’ll take it.”

They shared a quiet moment, and for a brief second, it felt as though the entire world had slowed down. Emma’s gaze never wavered from Regina, and the air between them seemed to hum with unspoken affection. Regina’s heart fluttered in a way that was new and yet familiar at the same time.

“I guess we should get going,” Regina said softly, her voice breaking the moment, though it didn’t break the connection between them.

Emma stood and walked toward her, her fingers grazing Regina’s arm as she passed. “We can take our time, right?” Emma teased, a wink accompanying her playful words.

Regina laughed softly, feeling a spark of something warm and inviting flicker in her chest. “We’ll see,” she said with a smile, her gaze catching Emma’s once more. “But for now, let’s get moving.”

And together, they left the cocoon of the mansion behind, stepping out into the day, knowing they had something rare—something worth savoring.

***

Regina wasn’t sure exactly when it started, but she noticed immediately.

The first time, it was a leather jacket—Emma’s favorite, the one she always shrugged on over her flannel like it was armor. Regina found it draped over one of the kitchen chairs one morning, still carrying the faint scent of leather and Emma’s shampoo.

She sighed, folding it neatly over her arm and setting it by the door.

The second time, it was a pair of boots—Emma’s boots—kicked off haphazardly near the entryway. Regina nearly tripped over them coming in from work.

She frowned down at them. Emma never fully moved in anywhere—she was always half in, half out. A person who kept things close but never quite let them settle. And yet… here they were.

A few days later, Regina reached for her toothbrush only to find a second one—blue and obviously not hers—tucked beside it in the holder.

She stared at it for a long moment.

Emma hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t asked if it was okay. She had just left it there.

And, more surprisingly, Regina… didn’t mind.

In fact, she caught herself brushing her teeth later that night and noticing—actually noticing—that the sight of it, next to hers, was oddly comforting.

Of course, that didn’t mean she let it slide completely.

The next evening, when Emma let herself in—as if she lived there—Regina casually leaned against the kitchen counter, arms folded, and leveled her with a knowing look.

Emma paused mid-step, immediately suspicious. “What?”

Regina tilted her head. “You seem awfully comfortable here.”

Emma blinked. “I am comfortable here.”

Regina’s eyes flickered toward the chair where Emma’s jacket had once again been abandoned, then toward the door where her boots were still haphazardly tossed. “Yes, I can see that.”

Emma followed her gaze, then had the audacity to smirk. “What can I say? Your house is nice. Great ambiance. Comfy furniture. Hot landlady.”

Regina rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched. “It’s my house, Emma.”

Emma grinned, stepping closer. “I know.” She leaned down slightly, her voice warm and teasing. “That’s why I like leaving things here. Means I have a reason to come back.”

Regina opened her mouth, ready with a retort—something sharp, something dry—but the words never came.

Because, damn her, Emma was right.

And, worst of all? Regina didn’t actually want her to stop.

***

Regina made a point of sighing dramatically every time she found another one of Emma’s things strewn around the house.

She’d grumble about the boots by the door, roll her eyes at the leather jacket tossed over the back of a chair, and raise a pointed brow at the extra coffee mug Emma kept leaving in her kitchen.

But she never actually moved anything.

Not really.

And she definitely didn’t tell Emma that she’d caught herself smiling when she found the toothbrush beside hers again after Emma had spent the night.

It was ridiculous. This whole thing was ridiculous.

She told herself that every time she opened the closet and spotted Emma’s flannel mixed in with her perfectly color-coordinated wardrobe.

She told herself that when she found Emma’s favorite cereal sitting in her pantry—because, apparently, Emma had started grocery shopping for her house now, too.

But the moment it really hit her?

It was early morning, and Regina had just stepped into the shower, groggy and slow-moving. She reached for her usual shampoo without thinking, working it through her hair as steam curled around her.

And then the scent hit her.

Not her usual jasmine.

Something different. Something familiar.

Something that smelled like Emma.

Regina froze, fingers still tangled in her hair, realization creeping in.

She’d grabbed Emma’s shampoo.

Her eyes flickered toward the bottle sitting on the shelf—right next to hers, as if it belonged there. As if Emma belonged here.

Oh.

Oh.

This was real.

This wasn’t some passing thing, some fleeting moment. Emma was here. She was staying.

Regina swallowed, rinsing her hair with deliberate care, trying to ignore the sudden, overwhelming warmth spreading through her chest.

Later, as she moved around the kitchen, preparing her coffee, Emma strolled in, stretching lazily, her shirt rumpled from sleep.

She stepped behind Regina, wrapping her arms loosely around her waist and pressing a soft kiss against the curve of her shoulder.

Then she paused, nose twitching slightly.

“You smell different,” Emma murmured, her lips quirking up in amusement.

Regina stiffened slightly, fingers tightening around her coffee cup. “Do I?”

Emma leaned in, inhaling playfully before pulling back with a smug grin. “Is that my shampoo?”

Regina rolled her eyes, taking a slow sip of coffee. “I reached for the wrong bottle.”

Emma chuckled, resting her chin on Regina’s shoulder. “Uh-huh. Or maybe you’re just starting to like having me around.”

Regina huffed, turning slightly to fix Emma with a pointed look.

Emma’s smirk only widened.

Regina could have denied it. Could have made some snarky comment, brushed it off with ease.

But instead, she just shook her head, sighed dramatically—for effect, of course—and let Emma stay exactly where she was.

Regina felt the warmth of Emma’s body press against her back, the subtle weight of her arms wrapping around her waist sending a thrill through her. The morning light filtered through the kitchen windows, casting a soft glow on everything, but it was the presence of Emma at her side that made the moment feel suspended in time. Regina’s breath hitched just slightly, and she felt herself relax into the touch, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Emma’s fingers danced along the waistband of Regina’s sleep shorts, a playful movement that made Regina’s heart flutter in a way she wasn’t sure she was ready for. The touch was light but intentional, sending a warm pulse of anticipation through her.

Regina leaned back into Emma’s touch, her body responding instinctively. She arched her neck, tilting her head back toward Emma, silently offering the space, the moment, as if the air between them could thicken with the unspoken invitation. Emma’s lips brushed against the curve of her neck, soft and slow at first, a teasing press that sent shivers down Regina’s spine.

Regina closed her eyes, her fingers still wrapped around the coffee cup, but it felt almost forgotten in her hand now. All that mattered was the soft pressure of Emma’s kiss, the gentle warmth of her embrace.

“You always know how to get me,” Regina murmured, her voice low, almost a whisper as she tilted her head further, granting Emma more room, her pulse quickening under the careful, tender touch.

Emma’s breath was warm against her skin as she pulled back just slightly to look at Regina, her eyes glinting with affection and something more. “Is that a complaint?” she asked, her voice teasing but with a trace of genuine curiosity, as if she needed the reassurance that Regina didn’t mind these little, intimate moments.

Regina smiled, the corners of her lips curling up in a subtle but knowing way. She could feel the heat from Emma’s hands, the lingering tension of unspoken things between them. It was in the way Emma’s fingers traced the edge of her waistband, as though memorizing the curve of her hips.

“Not at all,” Regina replied, her voice soft but full of meaning. She turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against Emma’s, just a feather-light touch, but one that made her heart race all the same.

Emma leaned in more fully then, closing the distance between them, capturing Regina’s lips in a kiss that was deeper, more insistent than before. Regina’s fingers slid around Emma’s hand, gripping it gently as they kissed, the heat of their bodies pressing together as they lost themselves in the moment. The world beyond the kitchen felt like it no longer mattered—only the two of them, tangled in a quiet, shared silence.

When they finally pulled apart, both a little breathless, Emma’s eyes lingered on Regina, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “See? I knew you’d start liking having me around.” She winked, her fingers still resting at the waistband of Regina’s shorts.

Regina rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her chest only grew. She didn’t deny it—because it wasn’t something that needed to be said. Instead, she tilted her head with a small, affectionate smile. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, but the playfulness in her tone betrayed her words.

Emma chuckled softly, leaning in once more to place a kiss on the side of her neck. “I know, but you love it.” There was a hint of challenge in her voice, but it was light, teasing.

Regina sighed, a low sound that was both exasperated and fond. She couldn’t argue with that.

“Fine,” she said, her voice turning warm and soft. “You’re right. But just so you know, I’m still getting my coffee before anything else happens.” She held up the cup, a small smile tugging at her lips as she tried to hold onto some semblance of control.

Emma groaned playfully, but her hands never left Regina’s waist, her thumb gently brushing the soft skin above her waistband. “I swear, you’ll get used to me distracting you more often.”

Regina smirked, taking another sip of her coffee. “You’re lucky I’ve already decided I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

Emma’s grin widened, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Emma’s breath was warm against Regina’s ear, her voice low and careful. “Is this okay?” she asked, her fingertips resting just past the waistband of Regina’s sleep shorts, barely brushing the skin of her lower stomach.

Regina didn’t answer right away. Her eyes fluttered closed, body still and tense for a single breath—then she gave the smallest of nods, slow and deliberate. “Yes,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”

Emma’s touch stayed gentle, her hand resting there like a promise rather than a request. She wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pushing. It wasn’t about want—it was about trust. And Regina felt it in the way Emma pressed a kiss to the corner of her jaw, the way her other hand stayed firm at her waist, anchoring them both.

Regina let her head fall back slightly against Emma’s shoulder, her body slowly relaxing into the moment. The closeness between them wasn’t just physical—it was something deeper, something quiet and strong, built from everything they had shared over the past weeks. Emma’s hand dipped lower, her fingertips grazing the hem of Regina’s lacy underwear. 

“You can tell me to stop…” Emma kissed the tender spot behind Regina’s ear, her fingers gently tracing the line of her underwear. 

The coffee cup in Regina was quickly sat down on the counter as her hand moved to sit on top of Emma’s pushing it slightly, encouraging Emma not to stop. “I…”

Emma’s fingers dipped under her underwear, slowly creeping towards her wet core. Regina’s breath hitched, letting her body relax against Emma. “Don’t stop…” Regina murmured, a small moan escaping from her lips as Emma’s fingers finally touched her aching core. Her hips bucked and she heard Emma let out a throaty laugh as she attached her lips to Regina’s neck, savoring the feeling of Regina’s wetness against her fingers for the first time. 

“Someone’s eager…” Emma teased as her fingers moved in slow circles. 

“Em-Emma…” Regina moaned, her hand shaking against Emma’s as she moved her fingers. “Please…” She whispered, begging the blonde for more. 

Regina’s moans filled the kitchen, until the telltale sound of Emma’s work phone chimed through the kitchen. “Shit.” Emma cursed as she slowed her fingers. 

“I’m going to incinerate whoever that is.” Emma threatened breathlessly as Emma reached for the phone, her fingers still inside Regina. 

“Sheriff Swan.” She answered, as she gently removed her fingers and went back to rubbing soft circles on Regina’s core. “Yeah…seriously.” Regina heard Emma’s side of the conversation, her mind unable to fully focus as Emma continued to pleasure her. “Fine! I’ll be there in five.” She threw the phone down against the counter. 

“If you think even think about it-” Regina started to speak but was interrupted as Emma gently removed her soaked fingers from Regina’s shorts and placed a small kiss on her shoulder. 

“They need me,” Emma whispered into Regina’s shoulder, voice reluctant but steady. Her arms were still wrapped around Regina’s waist, fingers trailing just lightly enough to make Regina ache at the sudden distance she knew was coming.

“One hour, tops. Then I’ll come home,” Emma promised, her lips brushing the skin just beneath Regina’s ear. “And we can continue this.”

Regina scoffed, though her heart tugged traitorously at the tenderness in Emma’s voice. She pushed Emma back with a frustrated little shove—not hard, but firm. “If you’re lucky,” she snapped, turning away before Emma could see the softness flickering in her eyes. “Now go, before I incinerate that phone.”

Emma’s grin was crooked, laced with guilt. “Yes, ma’am.”

She took the stairs two at a time, vanishing with a clatter of footsteps and the faint creak of the upstairs door. Regina sighed and leaned back against the counter, her arms crossing tightly over her chest, every inch of her bristling with unfinished touches and unspoken tension.

Moments later, Emma came bounding down the stairs again, now in her dark jeans, leather jacket thrown over her arm, and her sheriff badge clipped into place. She looked more like the Savior again—confident, focused. But her expression softened when she caught sight of Regina still standing there, rigid and clearly annoyed.

Without a word, Emma crossed the kitchen and cupped Regina’s face gently between her hands. “I mean it,” she said quietly. “One hour. Don’t go anywhere.”

Regina’s lips parted, and she hesitated just long enough for Emma to lean in and press a lingering kiss to her mouth—gentle, apologetic, and full of promises.

When they finally broke apart, Regina narrowed her eyes at her. “You’d better be worth the interruption.”

Emma winked. “I always am.”

And then she was gone—out the door with the swish of her jacket and the slam of her boots on the porch, leaving Regina alone in the kitchen, her lips tingling, her heart stubbornly skipping a beat.

Exactly sixty-two minutes after Emma had left, her phone buzzed with a message. She was just brushing the soot off her hands—courtesy of a misfired spell from a startled apprentice in the woods—when she glanced at the screen.

Regina: You’ve taken too long, Sheriff Swan and I’ve been forced to take matters into my own hands. 

Attached was a picture of Regina’s hand buried in her shorts, her legs tangled around bedsheets. 

Emma exhaled nervously, throwing her dad a pitiful look before shrugging. “I gotta get home, Regina is…umm, you’ve got this covered, right?” She asked before taking off towards her bug, a small on her face and the picture opened her phone the whole way home. 

She practically ran up the stairs, heart pounding, and pushed open the bedroom door to find Regina casually perched on the bed, a book in one hand and that familiar, teasing smirk curling her lips.

“Welcome back, Sheriff,” Regina purred, setting the book aside. “Did you miss me?”

“You are evil…” Emma breathed out, dropping her bag by the door as she stepped fully into the room.

Regina’s smirk deepened, eyes sparkling with playful wickedness. “You were late, Sheriff.”

Emma’s cheeks flushed as Regina stood, the soft rustle of fabric filling the quiet room. “But I’m more than happy to make up for lost time.”

Her fingers deftly began to unbutton her blouse, each movement slow and deliberate, drawing Emma in like a magnet. The room seemed to pulse with tension as Regina’s gaze locked onto hers, the promise in her voice sending a shiver down Emma’s spine.

Regina’s voice was low and teasing as she took a step closer. “Keep going, Miss Swan. I’m rather enjoying the show.”

Emma’s eyes flicked down to Regina’s layered clothes and back up to that smirk. “You are wearing too many clothes,” she said, voice husky with desire.

Regina’s challenge was immediate, her fingers grazing Emma’s cheek. “Come and take them off, then.”

Without hesitation, Emma closed the small distance between them, hands reaching eagerly for the buttons, the room charged with an electric mix of anticipation and hunger.

Just as Emma’s fingers grazed the last button of Regina’s blouse, a sharp ring cut through the charged air. Regina’s phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand.

With a reluctant sigh, Regina reached for it, her expression tightening as she saw the caller ID — a councilman needing urgent approval on some town matter.

Emma let out a loud, exaggerated sigh, kicking her legs against the bed in playful frustration. “Really? Right now?”

Regina shot her a tired smile. “Apparently, the town can’t wait.”

Regina smirked as she pulled herself out of the bed, her eyes gleaming with playful challenge. “Feel free to stay and take care of… matters. I wouldn’t want my Sheriff walking around all frustrated.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin spreading across her face. “You want me to have a wank in your silk sheets?”

Regina chuckled, shaking her head. “Must you be so crude?”

Emma grinned wickedly, tilting her head with mock reverence. “Sorry, your majesty. Would you like me to touch myself in your pristine sheets while you go and save the town from ruin? Is that what gets you going?”

Regina’s eyes sparkled with affection and amusement. “You, Miss Swan, get me going—in so many wonderful ways.”

Emma’s smile softened as she leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss against Regina’s temple. “I’ll be back in a few hours…”

***

The dining room was bathed in soft afternoon light, the kind that filtered through the gauzy curtains and turned everything golden. The table had been cleared of its usual candlesticks and centerpiece, replaced now by Regina’s sleek silver iPad, propped up on its stand like it was preparing for a performance.

Regina sat stiffly in her chair, back straight, arms folded tightly across her chest. The confidence she wore so easily in public—at council meetings, in the mayor’s office, in battle—seemed to falter here, in the quiet stillness of her own home. The anticipation hung thick in the air between them, an invisible thread pulling tighter with every passing second.

Emma reached over, resting a hand on Regina’s. She wasn’t much for waiting either, but this was different. This wasn’t a threat to track or a case to close. This was Henry.

“You okay?” she asked softly, her thumb brushing gently over Regina’s knuckles.

Regina nodded, but the movement was sharp, almost automatic. “I don’t know why I’m nervous,” she muttered, her voice thinner than she wanted it to be. “He’s going to find out eventually. It’s not as though we’ve been subtle.”

Emma gave a quiet chuckle. “We haven’t exactly been parading around town either.”

Regina turned her head to look at her. There was something in her eyes—uncertainty, yes, but also something warmer beneath it. Gratitude, maybe. Or the realization that she didn’t have to do this alone.

Emma lifted Regina’s hand to her lips, kissing her knuckles gently. “Hey,” she said, her voice low and sure, “whatever happens, we’re in this together, okay?”

Regina closed her eyes at the kiss. That small act—simple, almost instinctive—unwound something tight in her chest. She nodded again, slower this time. “Okay.”

The iPad chimed to life.

Regina sat up straighter, smoothing down the front of her deep burgundy blouse. Emma resisted the urge to tease her about dressing like she was preparing for a press conference. She understood. This was vulnerable territory for Regina—emotionally unguarded terrain.

The screen flickered, then settled into focus.

“Hey!” Henry’s voice crackled through, followed by his familiar smile. His dorm room background was cluttered with textbooks and a half-eaten bowl of cereal perched on a stack of history notes.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Regina said quickly, her mayoral composure firmly back in place.

“Hey, kid,” Emma added, her voice warm.

Henry leaned closer to the screen, squinting. “Whoa. Okay. You guys look… serious. What’s going on?”

Regina opened her mouth, then shut it again. Her fingers tightened around Emma’s.

Emma cleared her throat and leaned a little closer to Regina, who sat just stiff enough to give away how tense she was. “We, uh… we wanted to talk to you together. Nothing’s wrong, I promise.”

Henry glanced between them, his expression immediately shifting—relieved, then slightly wary. “Okay…”

Emma turned her head, meeting Regina’s eyes in silent question: Do you want to tell him?

Regina inhaled slowly, nodding once. Her fingers brushed against Emma’s under the table, grounding herself. She opened her mouth—

But before she could speak, a knock sounded through the laptop speakers, followed by a voice from Henry’s end of the video call.

“Dude, come on, we’re gonna be late!” a boy called out, his face appearing briefly behind Henry in the frame.

Henry turned, waving him off. “Yeah, yeah! Two seconds!” Then, looking back at the screen, “Sorry, I told my friend I’d walk with him to the library before our group project. Kinda on the clock.”

Regina’s mouth closed. She hesitated, then leaned forward with her usual composure sliding neatly into place. “Of course. We can talk later. But before you go—Thanksgiving. I expect to see you home for it.”

Henry blinked, surprised by the sudden shift. “Uh—yeah, of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good,” Regina said, her smile calm but clearly masking something more. “We’ll plan something… cozy.”

Henry nodded, grabbing his backpack offscreen. “Sounds great. Love you guys. Gotta run!”

“Love you too,” Emma said quickly, forcing a smile.

Regina gave a tight nod. “Be safe.”

The call ended with a soft chime. The room fell silent.

Emma turned slowly toward Regina. “You changed your mind.”

Regina stared at the now-dark laptop screen for a moment longer before replying. “It didn’t feel like the right time. Not with someone else in the room. I want… space for the moment to land.”

Emma reached over, brushing her hand against Regina’s. “We’ll try again.”

Regina met her gaze, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. “Yes,” she said softly. “We will.”

Emma turned slightly, her arm still cradling Regina’s, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek. Regina turned to meet her, their faces close—close enough to feel each other’s breath—and then Emma kissed her again, this time on the lips.

It was slow, deliberate, and sweet. A kiss that asked nothing and offered everything.

Regina’s eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned into it, letting the quiet joy of the moment wash over her. The tension that had wound through her spine all morning dissolved with the warmth of Emma’s mouth against hers, with the hand that moved gently up her arm, anchoring her.

When they pulled apart, Emma’s forehead rested against Regina’s, her smile soft and crooked.

“You were almost ready, that’s a big step Madame Mayor,” she murmured. “I’m proud of you.”

Regina rolled her eyes, but there was no heat behind it—only affection. “Don’t call me that when you’re being affectionate.”

Emma chuckled, brushing her nose lightly against Regina’s. “Fine. Then let me say it this way: I’m proud of you, Regina. Really. You were so close.”

Regina let out a slow breath, her lips curving faintly. “Thank you.” She glanced toward the darkened iPad, then back at Emma. “And thank you for being there.”

Emma tilted her head, her hand now resting gently on Regina’s knee. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

They sat like that for a while, wrapped in quiet companionship, the afternoon light slipping toward amber. Regina’s heart felt full in a way that surprised her. Not extravagant. Not overwhelming. Just… full.

Content.

Eventually, she stood, brushing her hand along Emma’s shoulder as she passed. “We still have an evening ahead. Come help me with dinner?”

Emma grinned, catching her hand and lacing their fingers together as she followed. “Only if there’s kissing involved.”

Regina arched a brow. “That can be arranged.”

And with that, they moved into the kitchen—hands joined, hearts steady—ready for whatever came next.

Regina glanced over her shoulder as they walked into the kitchen, her smirk razor-sharp. “Try to keep your hands out of my pants this time, Miss Swan.”

Emma’s laugh was low and unapologetic. She moved in close behind her, pressing a teasing kiss just behind Regina’s ear. “No promises…” she murmured, voice warm and dangerously close. “I don’t recall you having an issue with where my hands were the other day.”

Regina drew in a slow breath, pausing just long enough for Emma to feel the shift in her body before she turned and fixed her with a slow, deliberate look.

“That was then,” Regina said, though her voice betrayed more amusement than sternness. “This is now. There are knives within reach.”

Emma raised her hands in surrender, though the glint in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t truly backing off. “You say that like it’s a threat and not a reason for me to behave.”

Regina rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite suppress the curve of her lips as she moved toward the counter. “If you want to be of use, you can slice the tomatoes.”

Emma wandered over, grabbing the cutting board and falling into step beside her, their shoulders brushing as they worked in companionable silence. Every so often, Regina’s gaze would flick sideways, catching Emma stealing glances at her with a look that hovered somewhere between mischief and affection.

“Focus, Swan,” she warned, though her tone was soft.

Emma bumped her hip. “Can’t help it. You’re distracting when you’re domestic.”

Regina huffed—an elegant sound of exasperation—but the flush in her cheeks betrayed her. “Just don’t burn anything.”

“No promises,” Emma said again, with a grin. “But if I do, I’ll make it up to you.”

Regina paused, knife in hand, and gave her a side glance. “You’d better.”

The kitchen filled with the sounds of chopping, sizzling, and the low hum of something deeper between them—comfort, desire, and a blooming intimacy neither of them felt the need to rush. This was new, but not fragile. Warm, but with enough spark to keep them on their toes.

And as the scent of garlic and basil filled the air, so did something else—something unspoken, but understood.

They weren’t just playing house.

They were building something real.

***

Later that night, Regina reached out, taking Emma’s hand with a quiet confidence that sent a thrill through them both. Her fingers curled around Emma’s as she gently pulled her up from the couch, their eyes locking with a spark of something unspoken.

With a slow, deliberate sway of her hips, Regina led Emma through the softly lit hallway toward the bedroom. The subtle rhythm in her step was magnetic—an invitation and a promise all at once. Emma’s breath hitched just slightly, caught between anticipation and the warmth of the moment, as they moved together in perfect sync, the rest of the world melting away behind them.

Regina paused just inside the doorway, turning to face Emma fully. Her eyes were dark, fierce, and utterly sincere.

“Are you sure, Regina?” Emma asked softly, searching her face.

A slow, confident smile curved Regina’s lips. “I want you, Miss Swan.”

The words hung in the air, charged and undeniable. Emma stepped closer, heart pounding, and whispered, “Then don’t make me wait.”

Regina’s hand found Emma’s cheek, their foreheads touching as the world outside ceased to exist.

Regina’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, her voice low and teasing. “Help me out of this?”

Emma’s grin was wicked as she stepped closer, her hands warm against Regina’s skin. “With pleasure…”

As the last buttons slipped free, Emma’s eyes roamed over Regina’s bare shoulders, her admiration evident. “You are possibly the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen…”

Regina’s smile deepened, eyes sparkling with challenge. “Put your words where your mouth is, Swan.”

Without hesitation, Emma leaned in, capturing Regina’s lips in a hungry, promising kiss.