Chapter Text
Regina Mills loathed fairs.
The noise. The crowds. The sticky fingers touching things that shouldn’t be touched. Children high on sugar are running like untamed wolves. It was everything she despised packed into one chaotic, overly festive afternoon.
And yet… here she was. Again.
“Smile, Madam Mayor!” called Archie as she passed the cotton candy booth.
She offered a thin-lipped grimace and waved like a queen on the verge of abdication. The only reason she tolerated this annual torture was because her son loved it—and apparently, so did his father.
“Regina!” came the joyful shout.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
Emmett Swan jogged toward her with Henry perched on his shoulders, both of them holding matching caramel apples and already covered in suspicious amounts of powdered sugar and joy.
“Don’t you look thrilled,” Emmett teased, eyes sparkling.
“Deliriously,” Regina muttered, adjusting her fitted blazer.
Henry beamed. “We’ve already been on the carousel twice! And Dad almost threw up on the teacups!”
“They spin faster than I remembered,” Emmett defended, licking caramel off his thumb.
“Try standing still while supervising a town full of people pretending calories don’t exist.”
Emmett leaned closer, grinning. “You could pretend to have fun.”
“I am pretending. Very well, I might add.”
Henry pouted. “Please come with us, Mom. Just one ride? The Ferris wheel?”
She sighed. “You two are worse than the Evil Queen’s worst minions.”
“That means we’re winning!” Emmett declared, already dragging her toward the rides.
She ended up riding the Ferris wheel twice, playing ring toss (which she won because, of course, she did), and even accepting a suspiciously pink slushy. Henry clung to Emmett the whole time, and the two of them ran around the fairgrounds like giant sugar-powered toddlers.
Regina watched them with exasperated fondness. They were insufferable. Loud. Messy.
And she hadn’t laughed that much in weeks.
“Okay,” she finally said as they lined up for fried Oreos. “That’s enough. You’ve both exceeded your sugar quotas for the year.”
“But—” Henry started.
“No.”
“Just—”
“No.”
“Mom—”
She shut him up with one sharp raised brow.
Henry huffed dramatically. Emmett just grinned, cheeks slightly flushed from all the running and eating and probably flirting.
“We’ll switch to lemonade,” he promised.
“I don’t trust anything that comes out of a truck in a paper cup.”
It started raining sometime between the petting zoo and the popcorn cart.
Not a drizzle. Not a romantic drizzle.
A full, sky-cracking, shoe-drenching downpour.
Regina shrieked when a gust of wind caught her coat. Henry squealed and ducked under Emmett’s arm. Emmett was already trying to lead them toward the covered vendor stalls.
“Over here—!”
Regina slipped first, her heel catching on the wet grass. She reached out automatically—for stability, for survival—and caught Emmett’s jacket.
He was also slipping.
“ Regina—! ”
And just like that, they went down.
Right into the mud, a messy tangle of limbs and coats and...
Their lips collided.
Soft. Sudden. Surreal.
Her eyes flew open. He did too.
It wasn’t a kiss, not really—not intentional. More like a crash. But their mouths met. Warm. Close. Real.
For one strange heartbeat, neither of them moved.
Then Henry screamed.
“YOU’RE KISSING!”
Regina jerked back so fast she almost headbutted Emmett.
“I did not—that was—!”
“Are you—are you dating?!” Henry gasped, eyes wide as saucers.
“No!” Regina sputtered, cheeks flaming. “It was an accident! ”
Emmett raised his hands quickly, already trying to calm the storm.
“Buddy—hey—there was mud. Slipping. No romance. Zero percent.”
Regina stood, mortified, mud on her sleeve and mortification in every fiber of her being.
Henry squinted between them, suspicious.
“You both looked weirdly okay with it.”
“I was in shock,” Regina snapped.
“I was concussed,” Emmett added helpfully.
Henry crossed his arms. “Mhm.”
They got home drenched, muddy, and oddly quiet.
Henry ran upstairs to shower, leaving Regina and Emmett to awkwardly hover in her foyer, still dripping.
“Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “For the… incident.”
She sighed, pushing her wet hair back. “It’s fine. It was an accident, you didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Would’ve been smoother if I had,” he muttered under his breath.
She shot him a look.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said innocently.
Henry thundered down the stairs in dry pajamas. “Dad! Stay the night!”
Regina groaned. “No—”
“Please?” Henry clasped his hands together like a little gremlin monk. “We’re all wet and cold, and you’ve already kissed, so it’s basically family night!”
“ Henry! ”
“I’m just saying!”
Emmett coughed, clearly trying not to laugh. “Well… I do know where the guest room is.”
Regina choked on her own breath.
“Excuse me?!”
Emmett blinked innocently. “I’m just saying. If I’m invited.”
Regina stared at him. Henry looked hopeful. She looked between the two of them—her chaotic son and his mischievous father.
And then she sighed, long and heavy.
“Fine.”
Henry whooped.
Regina glared at Emmett. “Guest room.”
He held up his hands. “Cross my heart.”
“You better not.”
Later that night, the house was quiet again.
Regina, curled up in bed in fresh silk pajamas, stared at the ceiling.
That accidental kiss—it meant nothing. It had to mean nothing.
But the warmth of it, the way his lips had felt—
She turned over with a grunt and buried her face in the pillow.
Stupid fair. Stupid mud. Stupid Emmett Swan.
The next morning, the smell of coffee and frying eggs drew him out of bed.
He padded into the kitchen in his shorts and found Regina at the stove.
Emmett stared. “It’s smell nice.” Regina is startle with that.
Henry was at the table, already munching toast and kicking his feet.
“Mom made breakfast!” he announced.
Regina handed him a mug of coffee. Their fingers brushed.
She didn’t pull away.
He didn’t either.
“I added cinnamon for you,” she said.
Emmett grinned. “Thank you.”
Henry groaned. “Please, you two are weird now.”
Regina smirked. “Be quiet and eat your eggs.”
As Emmett set the plate in front of her, he leaned in and whispered, just for her—
“For the record… even accidental, it was a pretty great kiss.”
Her cheeks flushed.
Maybe she didn’t hate fairs quite as much anymore.