shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling

by Jelach

Summary:

It had been like a lightning bolt to the brain, a gay awakening of cosmic proportions, the second she had seen toned thighs peeking out between leather shorts and cowboy boots.

AU - Regina is a lawyer at a top New York firm, and Emma is a famous country singer.

Or a tale of what happens when Regina meets the woman who made her realise that she might not be as straight as she believed she had been for the first 30 years of her life.

Notes:

I started writing this fic after Chappell Roan's legendary performance of The Giver on SNL, and the first few chapters spilled from me faster than anything. I had so much fun with them, but knew I wanted it to be something longer and more complete.

So after 6 months of multiple sets of writer's block, it's finally in a reasonable shape to begin sharing thanks to some amazing swen friends for body doubling some of the trickier parts.

I expect it to finish around 40k and in the region of 15-20 chapters (but when have I ever been known to stick to a word count).

I hope you enjoy this labour of love!

Chapter 1

It had been her sister’s suggestion, but Regina had gladly gone along with it. She was coming up for three years of being single, and nearing the anniversary of the day she admitted - both to herself and her friends - that she might not be as straight as everyone expected her to be. 

 

“The anniversary of one’s coming out,” Zelena had exclaimed after a couple of wines on Regina's couch last Saturday night, “is more than enough reason to celebrate, to put yourself out there and see if any hot young lesbian singles are interested.” 

 

In her sister’s mind, the only barrier to Regina having steamy lesbian sex for the first time was her lack of proximity to sapphic singles, because there was no way that anyone who was into women would not be into Regina. She was everyone’s type on paper. Gorgeous, conveniently rich, sharp-witted and above all, capable of feeling very deeply. Perhaps her emotions were slightly hidden between her fierce confidence and well-tailored clothes. They were the mask that had allowed her to move on when her previous boyfriend had died in a freak motorcycle accident just over three years ago. But once able to scale the impenetrable fortress of Regina's emotional defences, it was a powerful thing to be loved by her. Fiercely protective and incredibly attentive, to anyone but Regina herself, there was no denying that she was a catch. 

 

Apart from the heartbreak that had followed the accident - that she absolutely refused to speak about in polite company - her job was the main excuse Regina gave for not putting herself out there sooner. Of course, it wasn't that there weren’t queer lawyers in New York City - far from it, in fact. But there was a certain pressure that came with being well en-route to partner at her parents’ firm, where she served clients across the political and theological spectrum, some of whom she knew would take it as grounds for termination. She was representing the firm - and her family - with all of her behaviours, and she really wasn’t sure how it would go down if her parents learned that she was into women. Well, she was fairly certain how her mother would take it, which was a large part of the reason she hadn’t told either of them yet. It would have to wait until there was someone worth telling them for. 

 

In any case, it was always easy to give the excuse that work kept her busy. Such was her focus on her craft that she’d ignored any and every aspect of her private life for the past three years. And she had a lot to show for it; an apartment that she owned outright in New York City and an office all of her own on the second highest floor of the building that her firm owned. 

 

But deprioritising her private life meant wilfully ignoring anything that looked like a date or a conversation that might lead that way. It had reached the point that she wasn’t sure she’d have actually realised she was bisexual if not for a certain concert that her sister had dragged her to, in late June the year before. 

 

The venue had been cramped and sweaty, but Zelena had told her that live music was meant to be enjoyed that way, that it would be intimate and special. And that Emma Swan, touring her debut album after wild success on the Nashville circuit, would be entirely worth any discomfort she would experience from the press of sweaty bodies and the stench of beer and smoke hanging like a cloud over the revellers. 

 

And Regina had protested like hell all evening, especially when Zelena had forced their way to the front and she had taken an elbow to the face in the commotion, but that all died on her lips the moment that Emma Swan herself walked out onto the stage. 

 

It had been like a lightning bolt to the brain, a gay awakening of cosmic proportions, the second she had seen toned thighs peeking out between leather shorts and cowboy boots. Eyes scanning upwards, she found herself lingering for too long on round tits encased in a deep red corset, before getting lost in the deep green eyes that were sparkling with excitement at the size of the crowd. Her outfit was completed with a worn black cowboy hat, from which long blonde princess curls cascaded in a perfect halo that Regina felt a sudden and unexplainable urge to run her fingers through. 

 

And when Emma had turned to the crowd, found her place a breath away from the microphone and opened the set with a “let’s do this, y’all,” … well, Regina had subtly placed a hand on the stage to steady herself. Something about Emma’s tone went straight to her core and she shuddered with something unfamiliar rolling around in her gut.

 

And that was before Emma had started singing. 

 

It had been a dream from that moment onwards. Regina had found herself dancing without restraint through Emma’s entire set, transfixed by the way Emma moved, and entranced by that smile, and that voice.

 

They hadn’t lingered long after she left, Regina feigning exhaustion from a busy week at the office so that - embarrassingly - she could rush home for a hot date with Emma’s music video history. The woman, the stranger with the beautiful voice and divine body, had gripped Regina’s mind like quicksand, tumbling through her subconscious and leaving her drowning in denial. She had never felt anything quite like it before.

 

It had been pretty hard to ignore that she might be Bi after that. As much as her dating life had completely been shelved, she couldn't help herself noticing women everywhere - not least the wild and sensual country singer who kept popping up in her mind uninvited. And Regina could admit privately that every time Emma Swan’s music came up on shuffle - which was often, because every single record of hers was saved to her Liked Songs - she blushed and felt the familiar heat returning to her stomach. 

 

Zelena had been delighted at Regina's preoccupation with the blonde singer, of course, and had teased her on and off for the whole month after the show. And so Regina had ended up coming out to her, after a few weeks of reflecting on all the signs she had missed in the first three decades of her life. 

 

It was crazy. How had she made it to thirty without a single clue that she was capable of feeling something so strongly? And all this ridiculous feeling was for a woman she didn’t even really know. It was ridiculous and unexplainable but the evidence of her own feelings was far too convincing to be ignored.

And then there was the fact that Emma’s songs were autobiographical - or so she had said in the many interviews that accompanied her album release. So Regina felt she had at least some idea of this remarkable woman with her wild and troubled past, who was trying so hard to be herself in a world which celebrated “ordinary” - a word which Emma was anything but. There was a tender kinship that arose whenever Regina listened to the song Emma had written about finally finding home in another woman after a childhood of being misunderstood. In Emma’s case, it talked of the agony of constantly being shunted between families and homes, leaving her feeling unwanted and unloveable. But in Regina’s, it was the impossibly high standards and other unpleasantness suffered at the hands of her mother. 

 

That one had really changed Regina’s life when she had heard it the first time. It had made her confront some hard truths that she had buried under the three decades of believing her mother was proud of her, and thinking that the years of never being quite enough were Cora Mills’ way of pushing Regina towards what was best for her. She hadn’t really considered why their relationship had been so fractured before, but hearing the emotion in Emma’s songs, she finally felt understood. She finally felt just a little less alone.

 

Then there was the one about the moment of realisation, the hypnotic deluge of attraction felt for the first time. Of spending years looking for happiness in the wrong places and finally understanding why everything had felt so washed out and grey. And Regina was fairly certain that one had been lifted from her brain on the night they had ‘met,’ because it captured that feeling, and the uncomfortable obsession that had followed it. It spoke so eloquently of how she had fallen into something strange and magical and completely unexplainable to the person she had been in the years before that moment. She was certain that there was no going back to that person, the woman she had been before Emma Swan, and that had been a large driver of her decision to come out to her sister and their friends. Because she knew there was no going back now. And if it had been like that without even exploring anything, she knew there would be a woman out there who could make her feel the whole universe as soon as she made it known that she was open to something more.

 

~.~

 

Which is why they were celebrating Regina's coming-out-iversary on a Saturday night at Cubbyhole, a lesbian bar in downtown Manhattan not twenty minutes’ from Regina's apartment. It was by no means the first time that Regina had been dragged to this particular bar by her sister, but she usually tried to be a bit less conspicuous. She usually dressed in black, unassuming and straight-passing with the all-too-familiar excuse of her job and the fear that word would get back to their influential parents before she worked out a way of breaking the news to them herself. But this evening was a birthday of sorts for her, and Zelena had made it clear that wallflower was not an option. 

 

So she had decided to put one of her less work-appropriate suits to the test. It was her turn to pull out the lingerie in lieu of a shirt, choosing a cropped crimson corset that she had bought for him but hadn't been able to bring herself to wear since he'd left her without an audience to make the effort for. It had made her feel incredible when his jaw had gone slack at the sight of her, but had since been too painful a reminder of the her that she had been before grief had clawed its fingers into her optimism. And she didn't need excuses for the ghost of him to take her breath away. 

 

Now, it peeked out from underneath a slim black dinner jacket that clung to her in a way that screamed that it had been made to measure, which it had. Her stilettos were bright red on the top and the soles, and they added an extra few inches, which made her almost average height as she checked out the other women in the queue. Her hair had been styled in a short bob for as long as she could remember, but in honour of the occasion she had slicked it back to show off her earrings. They were a gift from her friend Belle for her thirtieth and they were bright red and shaped like vibrators. As if there weren't enough clues in her outfit that she was here for her own sake and not as an ally to a friend. 

 

Her sister had managed to encourage a couple of their friends to tag along. Kathryn, the paralegal that Regina had worked with when she had just qualified, had long been Regina's closest friend and since become a fully qualified lawyer. Zelena’s friends completed their quintet. Belle, a friend from her book club, who had been Regina’s first queer friend when Zelena had tried to set them up about eight months ago. It had been immediately apparent that their chemistry was mostly platonic, but they were really good friends now. And finishing up their group was Tink, a new friend of Zelena's and the latest blind date Regina had politely declined.

 

“Hot damn,” Tink had said upon seeing Regina walk smoothly in her impossible heels to the bar to join them. “Well your sister was definitely not exaggerating,” she added, cheeky but non-threatening. There was no bite, just genuine appreciation, and Regina thought for a split second about giving her an actual chance. But out of the corner of her eyes, she caught long, blonde curls bouncing away towards the lounge area. 

 

Fuck, why was Emma Swan still so in her head? Maybe she should take her sister's advice and get laid. By any rate it could hardly get any worse. 

 

Regina ignored the comment rather than questioning what exactly her sister had said about her. It was never usually good. She instead offered a round of smiles, a round of hellos and a round of shots. 

 

“I heard they’re doing karaoke tonight,” Zelena drawled as Regina felt the lingering burn of their first round of tequila migrate to her chest. 

 

“Don’t you dare even think about it, Zee,” Regina bit back. “I don’t sing in public.”

 

“Not sober, you mean,” her sister teased cheerfully. “Which is why this round’s on me - what does everyone want?”

 

Zelena snuck in another round of shots, and handed Regina her usual - a Negroni with an extra twist of orange and lime, just the way she always ordered it. 

 

And ok, maybe her sister wasn’t entirely awful. She had been pretty great when Regina had come out to her, sweating profusely and worrying that she would lose the one family member who she actively liked. Zelena had surprised her by taking it completely in her stride, like it was the best news she had heard all year - like her little sister suddenly made sense to her after all this time.

 

And Zelena had been great in the year that had followed, but Regina was not joining the karaoke under any circumstances, no matter how much her sister needled her towards a microphone.

 

~.~

Notes:

and we're off!

Let me know what you think of the premise ;) anyone got any hopes for what songs we'll hear at karaoke night?

Chapter 2

Notes:

I wonder who could just coincidentally be at the bar where they're celebrating Regina's coming-out-iversary... I'll give you one guess ;)

Regina spent much of the evening drinking, chatting with her friends and trying to find any kind of spark that held a candle to the way she had felt in the crowd in that dive bar in Brooklyn over a year ago. 

 

At least there were plenty of objectively hot women in attendance. Regina had even spoken to three of them, had even permitted one of them to kiss her. The attention that her outfit garnered had felt nice. It was doing her the world of good to feel so sexy, to feel wanted again after so long. And she had genuinely enjoyed the conversation. The women were warm and affectionate. But that was all it had been. Nice. 

 

And Regina was still holding onto the broken heart that had followed her around for the better part of four years, the one that had rebroken all over again at the abrupt termination of possibility when Emma Swan had walked off of that stage in Brooklyn and left her life. And she knew that she had no right to feel so all over the place about it, but her heart refused to listen to the rational side of her brain. So she held this unrequited, no-way-of-ever-being-fulfilled crush close to her chest and tried to find a shadow of it in the dim light of the club. 

 

~.~

 

Around eleven, it was clear the karaoke had started on the ground floor. Regina could tell, because the lounge area had thinned out. As she was sitting quietly with Kathryn and enjoying the slight lull in proceedings.

 

“How’re you holding up?” Her friend questioned softly, almost inaudible against the steady bass of the loud dance music.

 

Regina took a sip of her Negroni and considered herself for the moment - she’d lost count of how many she’d had, and it had left her with a nice buzz around the edges. She’d touched up her makeup after the totally underwhelming kiss with her perfectly bland stranger, and she knew she still looked incredibly put together. If anything, she was a little hungry.

 

“Pretty good, thanks,” she replied simply.

 

“You sure? No lingering guilt or sadness about Dan-”

 

“I told you. It’s been years. I’m doing better,” Regina cut her off. As much as her words were truthful, she still struggled to hear his name. The period that had followed his death had been the darkest in her life, and it had taken quite a lot of expensive conversations with her therapist to get to where she was. 

 

“Ok,” Kathryn let it drop. “So who was that woman? Do you think you’ll see her again?” She moved onto the excitement of the night. And in fairness, it was pretty rare for Regina to lose her inhibitions like that.

 

“She was nice, but no,” Regina replied quietly. “I’m looking for something more…”

 

“More what?” Kathryn nudged, an edge of frustration to her voice. “If I’m gonna wingwoman you properly, I’m gonna need something more than just more,” she attempted humour to pull Regina from her melancholy. 

 

“I don’t know - just more. Confident, emotionally available, hot, blonde,” she listed, blushing at the last. It was common knowledge amongst their friends that Regina had harboured some sort of crush on the crazily hot country singer who had started the recognition of her own queerness, but she didn’t usually slip and add fuel to their fire. Still, when she allowed herself to dwell on what she wanted, that was it. Well, she was.

 

“Shall we go and see where these sexy blondes are then?” Kathryn teased.

 

“I suppose so,” Regina replied reluctantly. “But I’m getting another drink first. Do you want something?”

 

“Don’t pretend like I’m torturing you, Regina. I’m not going to force you to sing. Just come have a listen to the karaoke, and see if there’s any cute and confident girls who take the stage. Nothing more.”

 

“I guess it could be fun,” Regina relented. 

 

Maybe there would be a hot blonde who she could lose herself in. Maybe.

 

~.~

 

Regina found herself descending the stairs with a fresh Negroni in her hand, concentrating on the gentle click-clack of ice against glass as she tried not to spill any of it on her way down. 

 

She was so focussed on the task at hand that she did not process the sounds of the karaoke room until she had made it to the floor. She was vaguely aware of someone singing Zolita, relatively in tune with the backing track and supported by the crowd, who were loving it. Her sister and friends waved and Regina processed the rest of the room as she migrated over to them.

 

It was colourful, if a little cramped, with an audience of a couple hundred people pushed together. Some were at tables, but most were standing near the stage and dancing along. All of the karaoke-goers were being looked after by a few busy servers behind a small but busy bar at the back of the low-ceilinged room.

 

And shit. 

 

Emma fucking Swan was there. In the same room as her. Sitting by the bar and commanding every scrap of Regina's attention. She watched as Emma drank a beer straight from the bottle, looking just as fucking perfect as she had a year ago. Emma's perfect body was showcased again with impossibly tight jeans doubled up with an open denim waistcoat, showing off a black lace bralette that was impossibly alluring as it was unexpectedly understated. There was no cowboy hat this time, which meant Regina enjoyed the glow of the disco lights reflected in perfect blonde curls. She was a vision.

 

Regina wasn’t breathing, lost in the moment and the image that had pleasantly haunted her for the last year - now very much in three dimensions and sitting across from a gorgeous brunette behind the bar. Regina’s eyes zeroed in on the interaction between the two women, and she felt her pulse spike when the other woman leant in to whisper in Emma’s ear. She almost dropped her drink as her hands shook with adrenaline, and an undercurrent of mild irritation.

 

But then Emma turned to look at her, directly at her, and she felt the world vanish to a point again. Green eyes drunk her in, and Emma was unflinching and unapologetic about the fact she was staring. Regina was trapped, a deer in the headlights with no desire to be anywhere else. Her skin turned to liquid joy wherever Emma's eyes traced her, which was all over, and she allowed a tentative smile to escape in spite of herself. 

 

The brunette leant across the bar and spoke into Emma's ear again, and Regina felt her smile falter slightly. Her eyebrow flinched of its own accord and she felt her fingers tense. 

 

It was ridiculous. She had absolutely no claim on the woman, but she couldn't stand watching someone else sharing things with her so intimately.

 

Emma just shook her head as she spared a warning glance back at her friend, and offered Regina a broad smile when she returned to her staring. 

 

And if Regina was struggling to think before, Emma had just sent her a tranquilizer. Her eyes sparkled, full and radiant as her smile reached them, and perfect teeth formed a broad line that shone blue in the club lighting. 

 

Emma's smile - directed at her no less - was the most beautiful thing Regina had ever seen.

 

She noticed Kathryn entering her space and willed her to walk past her rather than interrupt this moment, whatever it was. But her friend had not noticed Regina's preoccupation, and came barreling into her tipsily.

 

“This girl is good,” she said loudly at Regina's ear, gesturing towards the stage and breaking the magic as Regina turned to face her and offer her agreement.

 

And Regina was sure Kathryn wasn't looking at the same woman as she was, but yeah. Emma Swan was a god.

 

Regina allowed herself to be pulled across to her sister's table, permitting herself a couple of lingering glances towards the bar. It felt like everything was alive, threatening to burst inside of her now she knew Emma was here. After all her pining and all her waiting, she knew she had to engineer some kind of interaction, even if only to put this weird obsession to bed once and for all.

 

But maybe for something more than that.

 

~.~

 

About fifteen minutes and three karaoke performances later, Regina was thanking her lucky stars that her sister hadn't noticed who was sitting at the bar. But Zelena had noticed Regina's preoccupation, even if she didn't know its source. It was hard not to, when Regina was so completely unable to sit still. She had stirred her drink a thousand times, she kept looking absently into the crowd as if she were waiting for someone, and she kept toying with the ring on her forefinger to keep her hands busy.

 

“Are you ok, sis?” Zelena asked gently.

 

“Hmm? I'm fine,” Regina offered wistfully in response. “Having a great time. The karaoke is really good,” she elaborated, wanting to direct attention away from her own distraction.

 

“Sure you didn't want to have a go, Gina?” Her sister tried once more, now Regina seemed to be in higher spirits. 

 

“Over my dead body,” she deadpanned.

 

Regina waited a beat before continuing.

 

“No, actually. Over yours,” she laughed. “And I should warn you, I know exactly how to best get away with that crime.”

 

That set her four friends off laughing, and it was like an impossible train once they started. Regina retained her fake-stern expression for all of ten seconds before joining them, and only managed to stop when she felt a stranger tap on her shoulder. 

 

The laugh died on her lips as Emma's brunette from behind the bar leant over her, hand outstretched and holding a fresh negroni with a folded white napkin balancing on top of it.

 

“Think about it,” she offered cryptically, smiling down at her and lingering with Regina's face directly in her chest. She read the name ‘Ruby’ on a pin badge that adorned the low-cut tank she was wearing, and somehow it helped to give the brown-haired adversary a name. “My friend has never done this before, so I think she really likes the look of you. And I mean, I can see why.”

 

And damn, Regina was having a hard time remembering that she was supposed to be jealous of this woman, because fuck if she didn't have perfect tits. And she'd called Emma a friend , so maybe she didn't need to be jealous after all. And she was shamelessly checking Regina out and calling her sexy without words, and God Regina really did need a woman to blow her brains out because it was all getting a bit much.

 

But beyond the display in front of her was the dangerous spring of hope that had accompanied Ruby’s words. She could feel the saccharine aftertaste of she really likes the look of you, and from what she knew of Emma Swan - at least the character she played - it might mean something. Because Emma wasn’t a serial dater, didn't really do the groupie thing. Emma Swan on stage was very flirtatious. Regina supposed that was a large part of the appeal, the rich possibility that Emma thought you were attractive. But in the entire year Regina had been following her, she’d remained stoically unattached. It could of course be for a number of reasons - Emma’s life as an artist on the road, being the centre of attention and always putting on the flirtatious act as she was expected to do… well, all of it would undoubtedly be challenging for a prospective partner. But a small part of Regina clung to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, she just hadn’t found the right person yet. 

 

It was worrying how deeply this crush had taken root. But Regina was helpless to her own feelings. At least today she could do something about them for once.

 

She quietly thanked Ruby, who took her cue for dismissal and disappeared into the crowd.

 

Regina tore open the napkin with shaky fingers, and her heart soared to see a messy note scribbled on the paper.

 

Hi gorgeous, 

Blonde at the bar, I think we had a moment and I don't want that to be all we share. Sing with me later when I ask for a duet partner?

E x

 

She'd also left a mobile number, and that sent Regina spiralling for a good few seconds.

 

Because well. Fuck. 

 

Emma fucking Swan had noticed her. 

 

And she had called her gorgeous, of all things.

 

And she wanted Regina to text her . 

 

~.~

 

She scrambled to add the number to her phone. Not to do anything with it yet, but just in case she lost the napkin… which was ridiculous, because there was no way in hell she was letting that go. She placed it carefully in her inside jacket pocket and tried to attend the conversation that her sister was leading.

 

But when it became clear that Regina had returned to them, talk soon turned to the very clear move that had been played on her by the beautiful brunette.

 

“Did you know her?” Belle asked innocently, making sure the unknown brunette was out of earshot.

 

“No, no. Never met her in my life,” Regina replied honestly.

 

“That's not what the blush says,” her sister piled on.

 

“I swear, I've never seen her before,” Regina implored, begging silently for them to drop it. If Emma was really going to ask her to sing, she needed to build some serious courage. Because of course, there was no way she would chicken out - not when it meant she'd be face to face with Emma Swan at long last. But putting on a show in front of people was not something she had ever really enjoyed.

 

“But she left you her number, right?” Belle cut across whatever Zelena had been about to say, which was probably for the best.

 

“Not her number, per se,” Regina hedged. 

 

Damnit, she should have left it.

 

Zelena scrunched her face in consideration as she attempted to piece together what Regina was saying. 

 

“Um, ok,” Regina fought to pull it together. It was ridiculous really. She didn't get girlish crushes that stole her grace and decorum. And yet, here Emma was to contradict that hard-earned fact. “She was delivering a drink on behalf of someone at the bar.”

 

There, deliberately vague and unattached.

 

“Ok you're going to have to give us more than that,” Tink complained, chorused with sounds of agreement from her other friends. 

 

There was no way they were finding out it was her. She'd never hear the end of it. She'd be frogmarched to the bar to strike up a conversation in person. And she was not ready. Despite the fact that she had imagined this exact thing happening more times than she was willing to admit over the past year, she needed a bit longer. She'd had loads of time to prepare for what she would say when she finally had the chance. But now it was real, now Emma was here, the fear that she would fuck it up and send Emma running was enough to make her want to savour this uncertainty for as long as she could.

 

“There was a hot blonde chatting to the woman who brought the drink over, and she smiled at me. I guess it kind of felt like a moment or something. I thought that's all it was, but maybe I'll text her tomorrow and see if there's something more than that.”

 

She hoped that was enough to placate them.

 

“Tomorrow?” Her sister challenged incredulously. “And what's wrong with right now?”

 

“I'm here with you all right now,” she argued. “And besides, I come across better via text than I do in person when I’m I don't know how many negronis and a couple of tequila shots deep at a nightclub of all places.”

 

Zelena gave her famous eyebrow raise in dispute. 

 

“Regina,” she began, in a hard-line voice that made her sound more like their mother than was really fair. “You look fucking incredible. This woman has made a move that clearly says she wants to fuck you, and here you are arguing you want to spend time with us? You can literally see us all whenever you like. And this is your chance.”

 

Shit. It was all true, of course. But this was Emma Swan. And she was sure she would only get one chance at that conversation.

 

“Let me finish the negroni she sent me, then I'll take the glass back to the bar by myself,” she hedged.

 

There was a general murmur of frustration from the table, but no one forced the issue. Sure, Tink went to buy the three of them a round pretty soon after their surprise interruption, not even hiding the fact she wanted to do a recon mission. She returned happy to report back on the incredibly hot blonde who of course would be into Regina, because life wasn't fair and beauty was wasted on the shy bi femmes who didn't want to approach the hot woman at the bar. 

 

“She said she's a singer, so maybe we'll be lucky enough to hear her do a number,” she added, full of mirth as she watched Regina blush coyly.

 

And yeah, Emma had kind of already done a number on Regina. But she held that close to her chest and hoped for a miracle to push their conversation past this excruciating back-and-forth so she could get back to her pep talk in peace.

 

She saw Zelena grin dangerously, and prepared herself for the tease that was surely coming.

 

“A hot blonde singer, you say?” She smirked through the the rhetorical question. “Sounds like she's just your type, sis.”

 

~.~

Notes:

Did you get it? ;)

Chapter 3

Notes:

Fast approaching the scene which kicked this all off, but I'm nothing if not a tease, so enjoy some lighthearted buildup first!

Regina didn't have time to reply, as the distraction came sooner than anticipated, when she heard Tink shout “that's her, the blonde from the bar,” when Emma stepped onto the stage. 

 

“No fucking way,” Zelena shouted, giving her little sister a small, proud punch on the arm.

 

The sister in question didn't even hear her. She was lost in the tall, lean vision strutting her way onto the stage.

 

Emma moved with such ease, like she belonged there under the bright white lights. And Regina supposed she did. There was a casual confidence to the way she looped her thumb through the belt loop of her denim pants, and Regina swooned at the rhythmic tapping of her cowboy boots on the stage as she walked over to the screen to select a song. Regina was taken back to the memory of a year ago, when her world had condensed to a single point as she appreciated Emma's figure. 

 

Except it was different now. Regina allowed herself to feel the raw, unfettered attraction for what it was, no longer denying her feelings or repressing herself. And she watched hungrily as Emma reached the microphone and allowed her eyes to scan the room, looking for someone. 

 

Her eyes met Regina's after a few seconds, searching, and full with an unspoken question in them. Regina swallowed, fighting the urge to run and find somewhere to hide. She contorted her face into a smile which was broader and braver than she felt, in the hopes that Emma would understand. She wasn't sure what she wanted, whether to throw caution to the wind and sing with her, or to have a quiet chat in a private corner afterwards, or both.

 

“Some of y'all know me, but for those who don't. My name is Emma Swan, and I'd like to sing a couple of songs if you'll allow it.”

 

It was clear from the resounding cheer that at least two-thirds of the room were familiar with her songs. Unsurprising, because her album had made it onto the billboard 100 and a couple of the singles had blown up and earned her the well-deserved radio play and TV interviews that had made her pretty famous. And that wasn't even considering the fact they were in a lesbian bar, and the sapphic county wet dream that was Emma Swan had certainly done the rounds on the lesbian club scene. 

 

Not that Regina had been lucky enough to be there before.

 

“I'd like to invite-”

 

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. 

 

It was happening.

 

“-my friend Ruby to the stage. You all know her, you all love her, so give her a big hand and a fat tip on your next drink,” Emma hollered, audience moulded like putty in her hands.

 

Thank God. 

 

Regina visibly sagged, and her sister put a reassuring hand on her thigh, mistaking her relief for disappointment.

 

“It's ok, they both called each other friends. I don't think she's messing you around,” Zelena offered in a low voice. She waited a moment, processing all that had just happened.

 

“Emma fucking Swan had a big fat gay crush on my sister,” she mused. “I don't think I've ever been more proud of you, Regina.”

 

The woman in question blushed, which she seemed to be doing a lot of tonight.

 

And then she heard the introductory notes to 'Man! I Feel Like a Woman' and the swell of raucous cheering from the crowd. 

 

She saw Ruby stalk her way over to the stage, and it was like watching a jungle cat prowling towards its prey, so lithe and sensual and earning her own cheer from the audience. Regina couldn’t hold back the blush of another kind when she processed just who Ruby’s prey was, and how much she seemed to be enjoying the attention. She felt the quick sting of heat as she saw Emma’s broad smile in response to her friend’s display.

 

It’s just for the show, she told herself. And it was fucking hot, in any case. 

 

When Emma started to sing, it was like a spell all over again. The song wasn’t soft or delicate, but Regina felt moved all the same, as if the exact tone of Emma’s voice was resonating with her bones and throwing her into stasis. She allowed the music to wash over her as she enjoyed their harmonies and the way their voices moved together. 

 

The room was curiously quiet, compared to the performances that had preceded them. It was as if the crowd were - like her - so wrapped up in the powerhouse performance that they needed to listen and dance , rather than sing along. So it was only when Emma - ever the showman - hollered for everyone to join in singing and clapping for the last chorus that the room’s energy once more lifted. Arms and drinks were flying all over the place - just how Shania would’ve wanted things, Regina was sure - and Regina found herself joining in. 

 

It felt good to lose her inhibitions, and her jacket, and to ‘go totally crazy’ on the dancefloor. 

 

~.~

 

“I’m gonna grab some water,” she shouted to her friends as Ruby left the stage to the rolling thunder of a couple hundred lesbians appreciating her performance. 

 

Best to have the option of a standing exit, she thought. And she was thirsty. 

 

She looked to the stage, where Emma was trying to calm the applause enough to start her next song. Unable to help the fond smile that accompanied Emma’s antics, Regina vaguely heard her ask the audience for requests in the periphery as a very warm-looking Ruby returned to her post behind the bar. She started a slower number that Regina didn’t recognize, and Regina had to fight to move her attention to the woman behind the bar. 

 

“That was amazing!” She shouted enthusiastically the second it was her turn to order. “You two must have done that before, right?”

 

“We’ve been friends for a long time,” Ruby answered simply. “Longer than I’ve been working here, which is saying something.”

 

It was filled with such affection, such nostalgia, that she felt like she was trespassing on some childhood memories or something. It was the exact tone she used to talk about Zelena and how they had stuck together as kids. And with that oddly sentimental train of thought, Regina felt the strong and compelling urge to give the woman a hug. 

 

Perhaps she was drunker than she thought. 

 

“Well, it showed,” Regina tried to regain her composure, unsure what to say that wouldn’t make her sound like a complete stalker. “She’s really fucking amazing,” she settled on, gesturing stage-wards in a voice that was quite breathless and full of longing. It felt good to finally get the admission off her chest.

 

“Well, I for sure think so, but she always tells me I’m biased,” Ruby chuckled. “It’s been like that since we were kids. Always downplaying herself. Always self-deprecating. Never letting herself go after what she really wants.”

 

“She sure doesn’t act that way on stage,” Regina challenged, appreciation thick in her tone. 

 

“But that’s it, right? The world’s a stage, and you get to choose who to play. Every day, we’re all performing. Or are you telling me you go to work dressed like this?” 

 

“Strangely profound for this time of night, but I don’t disagree,” Regina nodded. “And no, this outfit I reserve for the guests of this illustrious establishment alone. Naturally.”

 

She was glad the alcohol hadn’t impaired her sense of humour, or her ability to form coherent sentences. It was fun to banter this way with Ruby, and to receive confirmation that the object of her affections was in fact an ordinary human being under all the cowgirl and rhinestones act she had going on. 

 

She suddenly processed the fact that she was holding up the queue - which was shorter than usual as most people were watching Emma with rapt attention - but still, it was bad form. 

 

“I’ll have some water and two bottles of IPA, please,” she ordered in a friendly voice. 

 

The second Ruby placed the water in front of her, Regina guzzled the entire glass, feeling the refreshing slap in the face in good time. She thanked Ruby, took the two beers in one hand and migrated her way closer to the stage to get a better view, fanning herself with a cocktail menu in the other hand. 

 

~.~

 

As she neared the stage, she felt Emma’s gaze fall hotly over her body. She could feel the exact moment that Emma processed her changed outfit, the jacket still sitting over a barstool at her sister’s table and its absence revealing the daring red corset that highlighted Regina’s curves. She felt almost naked with Emma’s eyes on her, and willed herself to put all of her high-heeled training into practice. She refused to fall now. 

 

If she put an extra strut in her step, she would deny it to anyone foolish enough to suggest such a thing. But perhaps she could admit it to herself when she heard Emma falter for the first time that evening. She had finished singing and had begun to work the crowd, soft and easy banter falling from her red lips. But the second she saw Regina gracefully perch on one of the small tables off to one side near the front, she did a double take. 

 

Who was this siren who looked so familiar but who she was sure she had never met before?

 

There was no way she had met this woman in the past. The way she looked, the way she carried herself … The outfit that practically wrote “I LIKE GIRLS” in a neon crown atop her head. Emma could have written an entire album about the first fifteen minutes of seeing her and still have more to say about the image of perfection in front of her. And she hadn't even written one song, so she was confident they were strangers.

 

Regina heard all of this in a strangled comment from the blonde.

 

“I’m looking for a volunteer for this next song,” she managed to say in the end. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to sing. But I’m feeling like I want to put on a show for the gays, and I need some extra motivation up here.”

 

She jumped down from the stage and hauled a chair back onto the raised platform with her, patting the seat with some force so there could be no misunderstanding about just what kind of a show she was going to put on. But to be on the safe side, she clarified verbally. 

 

“I’m looking for a pretty lil’ femme to come and sit for me,” Emma commanded, her voice dangerous and low, in a way that went straight between Regina’s thighs and had her swimming in it. 

 

Oh. No.

 

Regina’s parents would never condone it. Her firm would be appalled. What if someone posted it online?

 

But damn. There was no way she was going to voluntarily let someone else be Emma fucking Swan’s ‘motivation.’ No way in hell.

 

She felt herself subconsciously standing and taking a step towards the stage, without giving herself permission to do so. 

 

But then Emma’s answering smile was definitely worth any consternation that would come for her later. It was wide and overpowering in its honesty, and in its lust, and Regina felt more powerful than she ever had before. Standing in front of all of the firm’s partners, winning awards for her work time and again, none of it held a candle to the way it felt to have Emma Swan look at her with fire in her eyes and such yearning she didn’t think she would ever recover.

 

“We have a volunteer,” Emma voiced for the benefit of the room. 

 

“I’ll let you be the judge of whether I’m pretty or little enough for what you have planned. But I did bring a peace offering,” Regina remarked upon reaching Emma’s personal space, internally congratulating herself for holding it together and not becoming an instant puddle at Emma’s feet. It was quite the feat.

 

“Affirmative,” Emma encouraged softly in her ear, just for her, “you look fucking stunning.” And perhaps Regina was melting after all. Either not noticing, or determined to keep the show moving, Emma held out her hand for the beer as if she hadn’t just turned Regina’s earth on its axis. “And you paid attention,” she smirked, taking in the label. 

 

“You don’t need me to stroke your ego and tell you that everyone-” she gestured to the crowd - shit, the crowd. She’d forgotten they had an audience. “-pays attention to you,” she finished lamely.

 

Emma smiled with a soft laugh and Regina felt the familiar spike of thrilled adrenaline to know that she had made her happy. 

 

“So… I think you know what you're letting yourself in for,” Emma returned to a conversational tone, their perfect moment of privacy over. Regina felt a mirror spike of something akin to disappointment at that realisation, but allowed herself to be guided to the chair without complaint. She felt her skin burning where Emma held her forearm to support her in those heels. “But just to be clear, I would very much like to dance on you. And that means I’m gonna touch you.”

 

Regina swallowed and nodded, not trusting her voice now Emma was placing the full weight of her flirtation on her. 

 

“So I've gotta ask… is there anything off limits?” Emma probed gently, needing to know.

 

“So long as you’re not planning on taking my clothes off right here…” she hedged, feeling a staunch blush overtake her chest and face as she witnessed the same reaction from the woman leaning over her.

 

“I - uh,” Emma replied, caught up in thinking about it now the suggestion had been given a voice, and at the confirmation that taking their clothes off was something that the other woman had thought about too.  

 

Holy fuck.

 

“I don’t think that will be necessary, though?” Regina saved her, preening at having taken the upper hand. 

 

It was delicious, the back and forth of teasing and tension. Regina felt the culmination of a year’s worth of speculation land squarely in her chest, and she recovered herself with a press to Emma’s forearm, which she had moved to Regina’s shoulder in anticipation of letting go.

 

“You should go and start the song, Em-ma,” she suggested, savouring the syllables and willing herself to stay calm against the tide of arousal that accompanied her view of Emma’s tits, held dangerously close, just a few inches from her face.

 

“I think our lovely audience should know your name first,” Emma replied, but this time into the microphone. The restless audience clapped in agreement. “So they know to whom they owe the pleasure of the view.”

 

“Well, if we’re thanking the view her name is Emma Swan,” she deadpanned, received by the room with a loud thunder of overlapping laughter. “But my name is Regina.”

 

That was enough, no need to send them all to her family’s wikipedia page. No, best to keep it vague.

 

“Re-gi-na,” Emma repeated, trying out the sound on her tongue and swallowing the sweetness that she found. That did it, Regina was a full puddle now. “Everyone give it up for Regina,” she hollered, and the room exploded. 

 

They were still cheering as Emma walked over to the song selection, boots click-clacking on the stage. The sound of the audience was muted, as though someone had turned the volume dial down. But Regina knew it was just her focus that had been pulled away from the crowd and towards the enigmatic blonde who was poised to give Regina her first lap dance. 

 

And damn if she wasn’t hungry for it.

 

~.~

Notes:

God, I enjoyed writing babygay Regina so much here!

On a personal note, seeing friends embrace that side of themselves (and remembering back to long ago when I did the same) - there is no joy quite like watching the gay up!

Chapter 4

Notes:

We finally get some Chappell goodness, lyrics in italics for anyone who's not heard of this masterpiece before (live performance here - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9nFIqtf3XN4)

The song started with a fiddle, and Regina grinned broadly to see Emma tapping her boots in time with the beat. She’d procured herself a bright red cowboy hat from the front row, and somehow something that Regina would have certainly scowled at yesterday in all its tacky glory had become the perfect accessory under the stage lights. Emma seemed to have grown three inches taller, confidence pouring from the brim of the crimson fabric and giving her an extra sway in her hips.

 

Regina hadn’t been listening to the words, so caught up as she was in the richness of Emma’s singing voice and the seemingly infinite planes of her curves now she was being given a front row seat. Trying to keep her breathing even, she felt strong hands tracing tantalisingly slowly across her arms as Emma moved around her seductively. She was playing it up for the crowd, Regina knew, but it still felt like they were the only two people in the room… in the whole world. 

 

“I can close my eyes and have you wrapped around my fingers like that,” Emma sang, running her long fingers through Regina’s slicked hair and mussing it slightly. The crowd roared. 

 

And she understood that this was the point of the song, of the whole show really, but still, Regina could not help the image that came to her, of Emma’s fingers and being wrapped so deliciously around them as she called out her name. 

 

She smiled and bit her lower lip, and Emma returned the favour. 

 

When they finally got to the chorus, Regina felt alarm growing at the same pace as Emma’s daring. It was clear that this wasn’t Emma’s first rodeo, so to speak, and she had the room - and Regina - in the palm of her hand.

 

“So take it like a taker.”

 

She straddled Regina for the first time, back to the crowd and wide eyes searching for permission. Regina placed her hands on Emma’s hips and encouraged a general downwards motion, a request which Emma correctly read and proceeded to slowly inch her way down as she continued singing.

 

“Cause baby I’m a giver.”

 

She felt Emma’s crotch pulling back over her thighs, towards her knees, and felt a spike of jealousy as she realised what the front row were seeing, if their cheers were anything to go by. But then, Emma's ass migrating outwards meant her chest migrated very much closer to Regina's face, and suddenly it was hard to be jealous any more. It was hard to think of anything at all with such temptation laid out within leaning distance from the tip of Regina's nose. Soft black lace was bared to her as the gyration of Emma’s hips pulled her barely-there waistcoat every which way. And the soft swell of Emma’s breasts dancing in front of Regina’s face… well, she spared a moment of suspended disbelief for her past self who had been so ignorant, because present Regina felt her arousal as a physical force at the vision in front of her. 

 

Emma must’ve noticed, because she grinned warmly and smugly at Regina, who she felt the heat rippling across her face like the sun fanning a path across the desert.

 

She wanted more than anything to bury her face in Emma's cleavage, but she fought the urge. Now was very much not the time or place, and she hadn't even asked Emma what her limits were. There was no way she was risking fucking up this perfect moment, so she savoured the arc of want that surged between them, sitting still and focusing on her hands running up Emma's sides and trying to remember to breathe. 

 

And then Emma sang, “cause how I look, is how I touch,” as she placed one of her leather boots on the chair next to Regina and showed off her ass to the audience once more. She ran a finger upwards along Regina’s arm and in a surprisingly gentle caress across her cheek. As if inspired by the content of the song, Emma's hands were fucking everywhere, leaving ghosts of heat wherever she touched. It felt very intentional, part of this magical dance they were doing, and the crowd were fucking loving it.

 

Regina heard the audience joining in for the pre-chorus, their chant of “baby, if you never had one, call me baby,” lifting the energy in the room - and the tension between Regina’s thighs - to an eleven. The way Emma had her almost screaming without even touching her made Regina think that maybe she had never really had one after all. Either way, she had never done anything remotely as daring as this, and she had never felt anything quite so instantaneous and strong as she had for Emma. It worried her as much as it turned her on, but god, she shouted “baby” in the quiet space after Emma had finished the line, and made a mental note to try that out properly later if it got that far. 

 

Emma’s stamina was impressive, as were her rhythm and flexibility. She was a professional, which shouldn’t have surprised Regina, but she’d never seen anything like it. It was hypnotic, the way she moved. Regina had to fight to pay attention to the words she was singing. 

 

By the time they made it to the bridge, the backing track had deep voices chanting “she gets the job done,” - which Regina couldn’t agree more with. She had no doubt that Emma would succeed in getting her done, so to speak. Especially when she watched as Emma doubled down her efforts with the lapdance, slowly teasing her waistcoat off to reveal the tantalising black lace that barely hid her nipples from view… And God, they were dancing around at face height and almost close enough to take into Regina’s mouth. Which went dry all of a sudden at the realisation. Fuck.

 

The crowd hollered at the semi-striptease, and at Emma’s toned and delicious figure being revealed to them all. 

 

“All you country boys saying you know how to treat a woman right,” Emma almost shouted, but it still felt like velvet as she leaned over Regina's shoulder and played the crowd. She held the microphone at arms length, encouraging the crowd to finish the line.

 

The room fairly thundered as the crowd of amassed lesbians screamed, “but only a woman knows how to treat a woman right.”

 

And oh.  

 

The song was new to Regina, but maybe there was some truth in those words. The tension in her gut and the fire between her legs certainly seemed to think so. And the enthusiasm of the crowd definitely showed their belief in that statement.

 

Emma winked at her, winked, and it was just about the sexiest thing Regina had ever seen.

 

She felt everything collapse to a point, pregnant with want and ready for it to explode between them. There was something so sexy in Emma's cockiness, in her confidence, in the knowledge that the arousal - stronger than Regina had ever felt before - was mutual and strong.

 

“She gets the job done,” Emma's voice soared, reducing Regina to pure desire, feeling the truth in the words that were being so perfectly sung to form a cloud of tangy, sticky heat around her. 

 

Somehow Emma was still standing, still in control of herself. It was infuriating, because Regina knew for sure that her legs would turn to liquid if she tried to rise from her seating position. Emma had turned her into something soft and malleable on the stage, and there she was, jumping around and dancing and encouraging the audience to sing the na na na na nas with her. 

 

Regina fought against her own desire as she decided it was her turn to play the audience. She grinned wildly as she fanned herself with her hand, exaggerating the motion to emphasise Emma's hotness. She decided to stamp her feet in time and encourage them to clap with her to cheer on Emma's performance. The effect was instantaneous and the audience were soon a wall of joyous sound, thrilled at their two willing leaders on the stage.

 

When Emma turned to her, it was with a wild joy in her eyes to see her ‘motivation’ getting into it and playing along. 

 

Regina felt the loss keenly when the song came to an end, the finishing lines of the fiddle playing out as Emma stalked her way over to where Regina was seated. But then Emma leaned over to bow at the audience, deliberately shaking her perfect ass in Regina's face. And suddenly loss was the last thing on her mind.

 

She ran her hands up the outside of Emma's thighs, trying to convey her appreciation without crossing the wafer thin line they had been toeing for the past half hour or so by touching her too intimately. 

 

Emma turned around and offered her a grin that was halfway between a smirk and an open-mouthed pout. Regina had never felt more attractive, more desirable than in that exact moment, and she wanted to grab Emma by the hand and haul her to a quiet corner and have her way with her.

 

But she held herself back, just about.

 

Instead, she pressed off the back of the chair and stood on shaky legs. When Emma offered her hand, Regina took it. Her own hands were heavy with adrenaline and her movements were clumsy as she turned to face the audience and realised how many people had seen the show they had just put on.

 

~.~

 

Somewhere in the remote corner of her brain, she processed the words the audience were shouting.

 

“Encore, encore, encore,” came the wall of sound. 

 

Emma's fingers were still linked with hers under the guise of keeping her steady, but Regina had practically been born in a pair of high heels. Despite not really needing the hand, she permitted the show of chivalry as it gave her an excuse to stay close to Emma. And she really didn't want to let go.

 

Piercing green eyes were asking Regina another silent question, the hope dancing in them suggesting that there was definitely a preferred response.

 

“Ok,” she mouthed to Emma, expecting the grin that responded silently to her words, but heart swelling to see it in any case. She stalked over to the microphone, dropping Emma's hand in the process. “But I think it's time for another duet, don't you all?” She spoke steadily, swallowing the nerves. This is what Emma had asked on her makeshift notecard earlier. And she was not going to disappoint her.

 

There was a resounding swell of agreement through the room. 

 

Emma watched her curiously, eyes dancing with intrigue and enjoyment and a dangerous degree of appreciation that Regina couldn't focus too hard on.

 

These things never end well.

 

Still, when she put an extra swing in her step this time, she would not deny the fact. Emma's hungry eyes on her backside were payment enough for any discomfort she usually felt at being seen to make an effort. She was certain that if she turned around, Emma would not be hiding the fact that she was boring a hole through the perfectly tailored pants in her mind. 

 

And yeah, maybe Regina wanted that… later.

 

She fiddled nervously with the screen of the song selector pad. It wasn't that she was a technophobe, in fact she was often called into her father's office to sort his tech-no-ma-bobs, or so he called them. But she was struggling with the notion of free choice. 

 

She knew what song she wanted them to sing together. She just couldn't let go of the idea of them singing that one together - the one which had been her comfort blanket when she came out to her sister and friends - the one about finding home in another woman after years (decades) of self-repression - the one which had caused this strange obsession to take root. 

 

But she hesitated, finger above ‘enter’ as she pondered whether it was too on the nose. She was not sure whether Emma would be flattered that she liked her music or whether she would run away as Regina revealed herself as a crazy stalker lady.

 

And she wasn't a stalker. She had admired Emma and her work, yes. But always from a distance, and with no expectation of her feelings being returned. Despite the temptation, she'd deliberately avoided the corners of the internet where fans shared Emma's location. Besides the very first day they met, this was the first and only time she had knowingly been in the same city as her, let alone the same room. And even now, with the evidence in front of her eyes telling her the complete opposite she had thought that this was cosmically improbable, she had known it would take a miracle to make it happen.

 

So it felt like the universe was trying to tell her something. 

 

The alcohol had landed thick in her gut, and it made her feel more courageous than she had any right to.

 

Fuck it, she thought.

 

She turned round to offer Emma an apologetic smile just as the first notes started playing. The room swirled past her for a second, rushing as she was to catch the moment of recognition. It made her feel slightly nauseous - or perhaps that was her nerves responding to the magnitude of the moment. But she was glad to have rushed, because the wide grin that broke across Emma's face the second she heard her own song was immediately captured in a still frame in Regina's mind.

 

The crowd completely lost it, louder than she had ever heard at a karaoke bar. The song was one of Emma's biggest hits, and it was clear the amassed fans who had elbowed their way to the front had been waiting since they had arrived and seen Emma by the bar to hear it. 

 

‘This ok?’ Regina mouthed, slightly bashful.

 

“So it seems Regina is a woman of taste,” Emma chuckled breathlessly into the microphone, by way of an answer. 

 

Fuck. Her name. On Emma's lips. Shit.

 

“Do you want to sing first?” Emma asked gently, voice heady and rushed as the song’s introduction started running out of legs.

 

Regina nodded and stepped up to the microphone.

 

Emma smiled encouragingly, and Regina refused to tear her eyes from her. She was certain she would lose her voice if she looked at the crowd, and she didn't want to miss a moment of Emma's undivided attention. 

 

If they had had a moment earlier, it was nothing compared to this moment - this fucking unique, special, stuff-of-her-wildest-dreams moment.

 

She took a deep breath and started singing.

 

~.~

 

Notes:

Thanks for indulging me; I just couldn't get the idea of a lapdance to this song out of my head - and rightly so, because this ended up being HOT(TOGO)... well, I hope you thought so too? ;)

Chapter 5

Notes:

So this one is a bit out of left field - I couldn't find a song that fit the exact vibe I needed, so I wrote one instead. I think it's pretty good, but I'm obviously biased - so let me know what you think. You can find it here: https://open.spotify.com/album/7n18yss9FFE0qZKMwrkNUm

Anyway, enjoy this chapter where these two connect over late-stage self-realisation in the form of a song I wrote. I didn't promise to not be self-indulgent here, after all ;)

Despite the following three minutes rushing past without her conscious permission, Regina remembered every detail in excruciating and perfect clarity.

 

The way Emma looked at her when she had first heard the tentative yet rich tone of Regina's voice had almost silenced her on the spot, but somehow she choked out the first line unscathed. Her eyes widened and her jaw slackened slightly, and it all felt like a heady mix of desire and surprise mixed together. Regina could tell that Emma was pleased with what she had heard, and it made her feel excellent. 

 

I’ve seen a hundred cities

Saw a tourist in my hometown but it’s just me

 

The feigned confidence held for the entire first verse, and Regina was somehow kept afloat, buoyed by the untempered affectation in Emma's wide eyed gaze. She heard her own voice grow in strength as the verse went on and she started to feel more at home on the stage with Emma. 

 

And I kissed all of the princes

Hoping by some magic I’d find him

 

As the pre-chorus drew nearer, she took a deep breath and forced herself to tear her eyes away from Emma's face and towards the crowd. She felt her heart lurch to her throat at the sight of the audience looking up at her expectantly. Her muscles tensed, a fight or flight response ready to hurl itself from her at any moment. But she managed to make out the image of her sister through the stage lights, and saw a huge thumbs up and a look of pride that made Regina feel that maybe she was doing ok.

 

She swallowed down the lump of nerves that had formed, and started singing again. When she heard another voice join her, consigned to the backing vocals that she usually had a team of talented vocalists to perform, Regina felt a warmth that was entirely Emma settle into her skin.

 

She willed herself to hold the tune as Emma sang a gentle harmony over her. The blonde professional sang softly, not wanting to steal Regina's moment, and the crowd cheered for them both in equal measure.

 

But all I found was emptiness

Losing ground to sleepwalking

 

Emma came to stand next to her, facing the crowd and readying for the big belter of a chorus that was coming. Regina felt Emma's hand on the small of her back, and she chanced a quick look to her right to see her.

 

Emma was beaming. It was plain to see on her face that she was thrilled with the surprise talent Regina had shared with them all. The wide grin quickly morphed into a request for permission to take the reins for the chorus, and Regina shrugged softly to tell her ‘yes’ without interrupting the flow.

 

It was crazy how simple it was to understand the silent questions, as if they had known each other for years rather than minutes. But Emma's face was so open to her, it was as easy as breathing.

 

Then a part of me died

When she kissed me

A life of lies buried deep

 

Regina moved slowly to Emma's microphone, their lips close enough to close the distance. But it wasn't the time, they still had half the song to go. And that was definitely not something Regina wanted to rush.

 

Regina joined for the second half of the chorus, taking a stab at the backing vocals and singing in surprising harmony. But then she had listened to the song an unhealthy amount of times over the past year, so maybe it wasn't that surprising..

 

A part of me died

When she kissed me

The heart of me

The heart of me came alive

 

The second verse passed in a blur, and all too soon it was nearly over. Just as Regina had made it past her nerves and into enjoying their time together, she realised it was coming to an end. Still, there was a tenderness as the backing track faded for the bridge and outro. Sensing the intimacy of the moment, they both stepped imperceptibly towards each other. Regina offered Emma a soft smile as they sang in harmony together.

 

I spent a lifetime

Kissing people I didn’t want

But just one lick of her tongue

Just one bit of her love

Just one moment

And I’m undone

 

~.~

 

By the time the final chord was playing, there was not a single person in the downstairs bar who wasn't on their feet. The buzz from Emma's last raunchy performance had clearly travelled its way up the stairs and there were very few people left in the rest of the club. It was bordering on a health and safety hazard, but everyone wanted a taste of the indefinable magic lingering on the air, and no one was paying enough attention to the back of the room to have noticed. 

 

All eyes were on the two women on the stage, whose performance had seemed far too perfect to be unpracticed. Aside from some clear nerves from the brunette, and a moment where they had both started singing the tune in the second chorus before Regina had seamlessly migrated up a few notes to sing the harmony, there had been very few signs to the contrary. 

 

Even their bows, both giving the audience an enticing view, we're flawless and smooth. They were in perfect synchronisation with each other from their heads to their toes, and the crowd loved it.

 

Against her own blood thundering and whooshing around her ears and deafening her, she vaguely heard the audience chanting again. She smiled apologetically at them and batted her hand in refusal of doing another song, but then realised what they were shouting and wished she could take it back.

 

"Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her."

 

It was overwhelming and overpowering all in the same moment.

 

She turned to Emma for support, but Emma was looking at the floor with shoulders slumped as if Regina had taken a pin and deflated all of her confidence in one snap.

 

Fuck. If only she could explain.

 

“Emma,” she coaxed gently, offering an open hand as she tried muting her microphone with the other. “Emma, please look at me.”

 

Piercing green eyes met her own, and they were full of embarrassment and rejection.

 

Guilt flooded Regina's chest at that, and it almost took her breath away with its force.

 

“Emma, I do want to kiss you,” she steamrollered, desperate to clear up the misunderstanding as quickly as she could. Fuck. “I want to kiss you so fucking bad,” she continued.

 

In for a penny, in for a pound.

 

“ I want to do so much more than just kiss you, goddamn.”

 

Regina saw the embarrassment diffuse from deep green pools as if it were mist falling softly off the edge of a cliff face. It was replaced with desire, thick and heady and threatening to overflow like a waterfall in place of the mist. 

 

“But I'm not sure here and now is the place or time,” Regina offered, as rational as she could be under the pressure and the stage lights.

 

“Maybe a gentle peck to satisfy that lot,” Emma chanced, her sexy-ass smirk returning with her confidence at Regina's reassurance. 

 

“You have a deal, Emma Swan,” Regina bartered, raking her eyes up and down Emma's figure. Her waistcoat was back on - honestly Regina had been too lost in the song to actually notice when that had happened, but she made the most of it now and pulled Emma the final step towards her by the coarse denim at the front. She could feel Emma's body heat radiating against her own, and she relished the scent of Emma's perfume - almost overwhelming at this distance, but still somehow just as perfect as its owner.

 

“Thank you for being such a good sport,” Emma breathed when their foreheads touched. Regina was trying very hard to pay attention to her words, but she was pretty sure her world had condensed to the single point of contact above her brow. There was so much heat and energy at that one small spot that there wasn't much room in her brain for anything else. “I know this isn't the most conventional way to express my interest in exploring this, but-”

 

Interest.

 

That was something. Regina's nose scrunched in distaste at Emma's choice of words.

 

And yet, interest in exploring this - them… now that was something for sure. Something amazing. It might just be everything she had spent the last year dreaming of. 

 

Emma had trailed off, and Regina picked up on the energy shift. The slight vulnerability, the discomfort with rejection, was written on Emma's face as she fought to find the words.

 

“It really has been my pleasure,” Regina put her out of her misery, drawing out the last line in a low voice that couldn't possibly leave any doubt of what she wanted from the blonde once the audience were gone.

 

Emma swallowed heavily.

 

“Believe me, Regina,” Emma replied in the same tone, one that felt reserved just for her. “The pleasure has been all mine.”

 

Holy hell.  

 

Regina wasn't sure a peck would be enough.

 

And then Emma's lips touched hers, tentatively at first, like she was afraid Regina might break if she put any real pressure behind it.

 

And it was everything. 

 

Fireworks, violins, the universe and fucking everything.

 

If seeing Emma Swan had been a gay awakening of cosmic proportions, she was pretty sure this was a sapphic supernova, rewriting the chemistry of her bones as the explosion of a dying star rewrites the chemistry of the universe.

 

But it still wasn't remotely enough.

 

So Regina took matters into her own hands. A quick glance into Emma's eyes gave her all the permission she needed, and then she let her own slide closed before pulling Emma's face back to hers and devouring her. 

 

And how had she thought the gentle peck was everything, when this was so much more?

 

Regina quickly lost herself in the maddening press of Emma's lips as they moved against her own. She felt the slow-but-firm pressure of her guitar-calloused fingers over her arms and back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Surrounded by the intoxicating scent of Emma and her cool, fresh perfume, Regina completely forgot they had an audience.

 

But the resounding cheer from the room was just about enough to curtail Regina's more enthusiastic urges, and she reluctantly pulled herself a fraction of an inch away. She felt Emma's lips clinging to hers until the last possible moment, when she was left with the ghost of heat in their place. She looked up to see Emma's eyes wild with feeling and completely impossible to look away from. If she were anything like Regina, the influx of feeling was almost overwhelming. She really had never felt anything like it.

 

She chuckled softly, a smidge embarrassed at having let herself get so carried away in front of so many people. And yet, regret was the furthest thing from her mind.

 

“I'm sorry, I'm not usually like this,” Emma offered. Regina couldn't help the way her face fell in response. Sorry was the last thing she wanted to hear. 

 

Emma must've picked up on the chagrin rolling off of Regina in waves, as she rushed to clarify. It was endearing, really, her desire to please Regina.

 

“I mean, I've never done that before. Crossed this line. On stage.” She chewed her lip, and it was adorable. “But God,” she continued, “for my sake, I'm not sorry that I did.”

 

Regina beamed, and Emma's shoulders dropped in relief. 

 

“Good,” Regina smirked, equally relieved that the furore of feeling was coursing through Emma as well. “That's really good.”

 

Emma smiled, and moved to turn her microphone back on. Sensing their moment was coming to an end, Regina put her own mic back on the stand and squeezed Emma's arm in thanks, before rapidly rushing off the stage and away from the scrutiny of the room. 

 

“Wow,” Emma breathed for the audience. “Can you all give it up for Regina one last time? What are the chances we'd find such a stunning… voice in the audience,” she shouted enthusiastically. 

 

The crowd did not disappoint, and Regina - now Emma wasn't by her side - was ready to disappear into the floor at the outpouring of attention. It was too much.

 

“I'm going to stop hogging the microphone now and go and find out more about our surprise star of the show,” she continued, bowing out gracefully and giving an apologetic grin to the poor soul that would be following her perfection on stage. Regina's brain only got as far as ‘star of the show’ before it was back to checking out the fine figure that Emma cut in her more casual outfit as she sauntered off the stage and over to the table Regina was using to steady herself.

 

And Fuck. By ‘star of the show,’ Emma meant her. Emma fucking Swan wanted to talk to her. To find out about her. 

 

Regina supposed it was Emma's way of claiming her, of keeping her for herself against a crowd of onlookers who were now intrigued about the unknown brunette and how she had come to this exact moment here and now. One or two bold crowd members had already migrated towards her, presumably to get the inside scoop on who she was and why Emma had deigned to break her usual rules of detachment and kiss her in front of everyone.

 

Then there was the fact that she was usually entirely against her person or her time being claimed. 

 

But by Emma Swan ?

 

Well, it didn't make her skin crawl with disgust. No, the tingling feeling was there but its origin was quite the opposite.

 

~.~

Chapter 6

Regina spared a single apologetic look at her friends and sister, hoping that they would understand her reluctance to return to them. She saw three identical smirks, as well as a broad grin and a ‘good luck’ thumbs up from Kathryn, and that happily lifted any guilt she may have felt. 

 

It was funny, after all that had transpired on stage - and after the hefty belt of liquor sitting in her stomach - Regina still felt nervous. She couldn’t help but wonder if there had been actual magic as they performed together, protecting her from her more embarrassing self or any slip-ups. 

 

But her time for overthinking was slowly slipping away, as she processed the soft smell of Emma’s perfume in her periphery.

 

“I’d say I’m sorry to keep you from your friends, but I’m really not,” Emma spoke softly at her side and chuckled as Regina snapped her head back to the front to appraise the singer.

 

“I don’t think they mind,” Regina replied sheepishly. “They actually tried to get me to go and talk to you before all of this-” 

 

She gestured between the two of them to illustrate her point.

 

“Fuck me, that was incredible,” Emma sighed at the allusion to the most extraordinary evening of her adult life. Sure, she had headlined some crazy shows, been to some ultra-elite parties and shot music videos in some of the most stunning spots anywhere on the planet. Her life had become a fairytale overnight, but for the last eighteen months she had carried the niggling feeling that there was something major missing. 

 

Regina laughed, and Emma let the sound wash over her.

 

“So you’re on Spotify, right?” Emma asked without wasting another second. “Is your name just Regina? Signed or indie?”

 

The woman in question blushed prettily at Emma’s presumption, and the heavy compliment she had just paid her.

 

“That’s very kind of you to say,” she acknowledged softly. “But I don’t usually sing, and definitely not in front of people without a proper incentive.” She looked hungrily at Emma, willing her to understand that she had been her motivation on this occasion. She felt the electric charge that had accompanied their time on stage returning, and decided to play off a joke by adding, “-and copious amounts of liquid courage.”

 

“What?” Emma challenged, incredulous. “No way are you not a singer. Nobody just harmonises like that in their spare time.”

 

“I’m - ah,” Regina stalled. Her job - much as she loved it - was often a conversation killer. And she didn’t want this conversation to ever end. “I’m a lawyer, actually,” she said sheepishly. 

 

“A lawyer?” Emma all but shouted in surprise, before muttering a curse word under her breath.

Regina’s heart sank.

 

It had all been going so well. Why did she always have this effect on people?

 

“You’re so fucking outta my league,” Emma murmured to herself, just loud enough for Regina to hear. 

 

Oh. 

 

Warmth replaced the vacancy that her sinking feeling had hollowed in her chest. 

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Regina rolled her eyes. “You know that everyone in here would kill to get on your level.”

 

“Pot. Kettle,” Emma returned with equal sarcasm in her voice. 

 

“Ok, I’m prepared to draw an agreement,” Regina drawled a tone more suited to her office than a sweaty dance floor in a lesbian club. Emma shuddered, taking a subconscious step towards the tantalising brunette.

 

“Proposal to both quit with the false modesty and agree that no one's out of any leagues?” Regina suggested, her tone playful and her heart racing.

 

“Deal,” Emma grinned, taking another step towards Regina - this time with the full weight of her heady intention.

 

“So are we going to acknowledge what happened up there?” Emma asked in a low voice. 

 

Regina glanced down at full, red lips. She couldn’t help herself. 

 

Emma smirked and stepped forwards, eliminating the space between them until Regina could feel the heat through her suit trousers.

 

“Um,” she stuttered vacantly, unable to think now Emma was so close again. “What part of up there do you want to talk about?”

 

“I mean, all of it. But I was referring to the part where you kissed me better than I’ve ever been kissed before.”

 

Holy hell. Regina wasn’t sure what to make of it.

 

She felt Emma’s thigh move to the spot between her legs, but not quite closing the gap. At her own gentle exhale of desire, she watched as Emma stilled and looked apologetically at her. 

 

“I - do you want to maybe get out of here?” Emma suggested breathlessly. “Not - we - fuck. I swear I don’t usually do this. And I’m not suggesting anything will happen that you don’t want to happen. But I’m feeling a bit self-conscious with all these people, especially the fans, and I want to get to know you properly.”

 

It was adorable . The woman who had confidently given her a lapdance in front of 200 people was now tripping over herself at the suggestion that they could go somewhere. Alone. Ruby had said that Emma's stage persona wasn't anything like her personal character, and Regina was delighted to see the truth in her words. This Emma, who was cute and playful and even a little shy, was Regina's favourite version of the blonde whirlwind she had seen so far.

 

“I would be amenable to that plan,” Regina offered, tone steady even as her insides were set alight once more by the delicious idea of being alone with Emma Swan. 

 

“Perfect,” Emma smiled. “Do you want to say goodbye to your friends and let them know your plans?”

 

“Give me fifteen minutes with them, I’ll let them know where we’re going and meet you there?” 

 

“Sure, Regina,” Emma agreed. “But where-?”

 

Regina’s eyes sparkled something sinful as she enjoyed teasing the blonde.

 

“I’ll text you,” she breathed. “That way you’ll have my number, too.”

 

“Smart too… figures,” Emma said cheekily, swallowing down the arousal that accompanied the continuation of their game.

 

“You should go and let Ruby know where you're going, so she doesn't worry I'm some crazy stalker fan who's abducted you against your will,” Regina suggested.

 

And it was a dangerous thought.

 

“Of course, I'm not a stalker,” Regina added lamely.

 

“I mean, I'd say that if I were one, of course. But I promise you I'm not,” she finished, losing steam as she felt herself spiralling a bit.

 

Emma laughed, full and wild, and it was music to Regina's ears.

 

“Well, I'd say your song choice was a bit too on the nose if you were trying to hide the fact you're a fan of my music,” she reasoned once she had stopped laughing. 

 

The back-and-forth of their banter was electrifying, and Regina didn't want it to end. 

 

“But it's ok, I told you I found you hot long before you played your hand. So at least you know I’m not taking advantage. Why don’t you tell your friends and I'll tell mine and then we can finally be alone?” Emma said, back to businesslike as she offered her hand and stepped backwards to signal the end of their conversation.

 

~.~

 

Regina had managed to make it to her sister with only a few minor interruptions, most of which were compliments from strangers on her outfit and her performance. She'd fired a Maps link to the cocktail bar in the hotel next to her apartment block via text to Emma's number the second her back was turned, and from that point on had tried to look as unaffected as possible 

 

A small part of her hoped that it wasn’t too presumptuous, that perhaps somewhere neutral - somewhere farther away - might be better, but reasoned that having the option of somewhere private might be better, given who Emma was, and the fact that she herself had suggested getting away from all the people. 

 

“Holy fucking shitballs,” Zelena shouted when her sister reconvened with their group. “That was off the charts amazing. I’m so proud of you,” she enthused, backed up with similar effusive praise from the rest of the group. Regina smiled broadly, still floating on the happiness that her time with Emma had left in her bones. 

 

Zelena’s face turned mischievous, and the feeling dissipated a little. “I took a video so you can show your grandkids one day. For now, you’ve got sixty seconds to spill all of the juicy details,” Zelena commanded.

 

“But-” Regina looked around frantically, ignoring the first half of Regina’s tease, her expression morphing from vague amusement to abject horror that screamed this was not the place. 

 

“Fifty eight,” her sister pressed, unperturbed.

 

“I swear, you saw all of the details,” she attempted. 

 

“There is absolutely no way that you two just met here and now and did that,” Zelena challenged, looking around at their friends to back her up.

 

“I can’t explain it either, but by some miracle we’re heading onwards for a tête-a-tête elsewhere. So I’m going to have to leave you to your own devices,” Regina dropped the bombshell, not sounding even remotely apologetic. 

 

The squealing was loud enough that the table next to them turned and raised their brows, but Regina allowed them the indulgence. It was a major development following a self-admitted drought of epic proportions. 

 

“Wow, Regina,” Kathryn exclaimed once they had calmed down slightly. “I’m glad you’ve decided not to mess around.”

 

“I’m not sure any of my decisions were particularly thought through,” Regina admitted. “We’re deep into gut-feel territory here.”

 

“Where are you two lovebirds headed, then?” Kathryn prodded. 

 

“Um-” Regina blushed. “You know Aesop’s?”

 

Recognition hit Kathryn as she remembered several evenings’ efforts of trying to pull Regina from her immaculate study in her apartment, with the classy cocktail bar being a middle ground given its proximity to her place in case anything urgent came up. 

 

“You are so getting lucky tonight,” her sister cut in, at the same time as Kathryn threw her own teasing, “Just make sure you’re both being safe,” for good measure.

 

Regina rolled her eyes, because yeah, she was hoping that might happen. But she also didn’t want to rush things, and to look too easy, too desperate. 

 

“I’ll let you know when I’m home safe,” she offered, ignoring their teasing. 

 

“When you’re home safe,” Zelena replied, her tone leaving no room for doubt that she meant it in the plural sense.

 

Regina stuck her tongue out, the action long since shelved for all but her older sister - but needs must. 

 

“Have a marvellous date, Regina,” Kathryn added sincerely. “And please do stay safe.”

 

“Thank you,” Regina responded warmly. “I’ll text tomorrow.”

 

“You’d better,” Zelena replied, pulling her into a fierce hug and whispering in her ear. “I meant it, I am so proud of you for putting yourself out there. She is the luckiest fucking woman on the planet. Don’t forget that.”

 

Regina’s throat constricted, overwhelmed by her sister’s protectiveness. 

 

She mouthed a thank you and made to hug all of their assembled friends, before snagging her jacket and the precious cargo it held in its pocket. Chancing one last look at the bar, she grinned goofily as Emma waved and gave a thumbs’ up as she pointed at her phone.

 

Thank goodness the message had gone through. 

 

There was nothing for Regina to do now but make her way to the bar and try to swallow the impatience she already felt at being apart from Emma when there was so much for them to discuss. 

 

~.~

Notes:

Hope you're enjoying this so far! This was where I got to in about March, having binged that Chappell Roan video. And then it took me soooo long to break the writers block, I actually wrote a few other fics in the interim, and even toyed with just posting this as an incomplete story. But thanks to a bunch of kudos and comments on my road trip fic (another that was a bit of a terror to get to the end of), I found the motivation to start again. So immense thanks to anyone who engages, it really does help on the trickier days.

Chapter 7

The cold air was a slap in the face to the soft edges of Regina’s drunkenness, sobering her almost immediately after stepping out of the club and passing the cold patrons who were still stuck waiting to get inside. But for all the effect it had on her inebriation, it did not even touch her arousal. In fact, the cold air made her even more aware of her own heat, but for once she didn’t even feel guilty for feeling it. 

 

She swore at her own clumsy fingers as she opened her phone to find Emma’s response to her invitation.

 

So you know… you’re saved as Hot Regina because you never told me your last name

 

Regina let loose a reserved laugh at that one. 

 

and because you’re hot. Obvi 

 

ously, shit premature enter

 

There was nothing reserved about the way her laughter snowballed. 

 

 Anyway, my phone says the bar you suggested looks good

 

Closes at midnight though. and i should wwarn you, I have more than an hour of finding out about you t do

 

Her laughter died on her throat as she processed the blonde’s comment. Regina was drunker than she had thought. Usually, she was fastidious in her organisation, never missing something so crucial as opening times. But she hadn’t realised the time, it had completely flown by. And yeah, an hour was nowhere near long enough.

 

Regina planned and deleted her response four times, before settling on the promise she had made to herself and her sister to give this a shot.

 

I like the sound of that. 

 

The bar in question is a favourite of mine. It’s a coffee shop in the day and I’m a regular there.

 

She took a deep breath before pressing on, revealing more than she had intended to before they were back in person together again.

 

Because I live next door. 

 

She waited a second, but decided she needed to explain. So loath was she to have any misunderstandings.

 

You were very eloquent in saying ‘no pressure’ to me. And I want you to know that the return is very much true. I have a guest room and everything. But I thought it might be good to have a private getaway in case you’re recognised in an unfriendly way. 

 

Immediate adrenaline chased away the cold for a second as she saw the three dots appear that meant Emma was typing.

 

We could skip the bar.

 

And there it was. Fuck. 

 

I want to, I mean

 

It was hotter than all hell, and Regina had to stop walking to steel herself to reply. 

 

I want to, too

 

I’ll meet you in the lobby to buzz you in. You’ll have to forgive me for the state of my flat, I left in a hurry and I wasn’t expecting a visitor.

 

I wasn’t planning on paying much attention to your decor, Regina.

 

Emma had opened the stopper on her desire, and Regina was at least glad that she knew where she stood. There would be no back-and-forth wondering what this night was going to hold, only what it would - or wouldn’t - mean. 

 

But Regina wasn’t going to let that - her feelings - get in the way. Not when Emma Swan was offering herself to her. No, she would take whatever she could get.

 

~.~

 

Emma arrived around ten minutes after Regina, who had been trying to maintain her image as an entirely pulled-together member of the legal profession by talking in hushed tones to the concierge about the affairs of the building. He was indulging her, taking any scrap of interest he could at this time of the night. 

 

She was holding a bottle of wine and a bunch of flowers, and Regina chuckled softly at the sight she painted. And yeah, her head swelled a few sizes at the thought that Emma Swan had brought her a bouquet. It made it feel more than a casual one night stand, and Regina wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

 

“Sorry, it took longer than expected to find the building and I-” Emma rushed to apologize, holding the wine out like a peace offering.

 

Regina gave her an answering look that told her to save it until they were alone, and they were back to the unexplainable yet uncanny ability to conduct silent conversations again. 

 

The concierge wished Regina a good night with a genuine smile, and all of a sudden it was just the two of them in the elevator on the way up to the eleventh floor. 

 

“I wasn’t really sure what the etiquette is,” Emma admitted when she was sure the door had closed behind them.

 

“The etiquette?” Regina asked into the quiet.

 

“Well, I’m pretty sure this is a date, but it feels weird because I literally only met you a few hours ago and yet it feels so much more than that. I know basically nothing about you, but I feel like I know you. And I'm not sure what to expect, but I thought - you seem like the kind of…” And here she was, Emma Swan, the queen of cool on stage completely at a loss for words. “I thought you might enjoy the roses regardless of whether this is a date or not,” she clarified. 

 

“Oh,” Regina exhaled. “Oh,” she repeated with feeling. 

 

“Oh?” It was Emma’s turn to search for clarification. 

 

“You didn’t need to bring me a peace offering, Em-ma,” she offered softly. “The flowers are beautiful, but all I really want from this evening is you.”

 

Emma swallowed thickly, and took a subconscious step closer to the siren in front of her. 

 

“Perhaps it will help you to know what I'm expecting - well, hoping - for?” Regina offered, Emma's nod giving her the courage to continue. “I want to get to know you first,” she said evenly, eyes following Emma’s every movement with a desperate hunger that seemed to settle into the dead air between them and bring it all the way back to life until it was almost crackling with the energy of their mutual attraction. “And I’d like a repeat of the feeling I got when I kissed you earlier.”

 

“Yeah?” Emma agreed breathlessly. 

 

“Yeah,” Regina confirmed. “And if that all goes well, I’d like you to start where you left off on that fucking fabulous lapdance you gave me.”

 

Emma was almost flush against Regina now, and her legs were feeling weaker with every step she drew closer. 

 

“Maybe I’ll even call you baby,” Regina reminded her of the song that had started the whole crazy thing. “And maybe when you ask me what my limits are this time - without an audience - I might have a different answer for you.”

 

Her voice was low, dangerous, sensual , and she could tell that Emma was wild for it. She leant in, deliberately scanning her eyes over Emma’s lips and reaching her own tongue out to wet her own. She could feel Emma’s sharp intake of breath against her, and it made her feel slightly dizzy.

 

But the elevator had other plans. Just as Regina was about to finally taste Emma without having to remind herself to retain control in front of an audience, their arrival to the eleventh floor was announced.

 

“Fuck,” Emma barked impatiently. 

 

“Indeed,” Regina grumbled more subtly but with the same feeling, followed by a more rational, “once we’re inside,” which the blonde followed enthusiastically. 

 

~.~ 

“Holy shit Regina,” Emma whistled when the heavy oak door swung open to reveal Regina’s classy, modern hallway. 

 

Emma had seen her fair share of nice and expensive houses in the past year, since her debut album had made her a number of famous ‘friends.’ And despite the excitement, the adventure of it all, it had been a continuation of a childhood without a place to settle. She’d seen more hotel rooms than she’d seen her actual - sparse, under-decorated - bedroom. And she’d spent more time than anyone should have sleeping in the back of a tour bus, so perhaps it was more a reflection of her low standards than Regina’s obviously impeccable ones. But Regina’s home was such a perfect blend of old and new, clean and personal. Emma couldn’t explain quite why she felt so in awe and at ease at the same time. It felt curiously familiar, but it must be the alcohol and whimsy of the evening talking. She didn’t even really know Regina, let alone her taste in interior design. 

 

“Holy shit, as in you like it?” Regina asked, nervous and not for the first time where Emma was concerned. She closed the door with a clean thud, if only to have something to do with her hands.

 

“It’s perfect,” she breathed. “Can I get the full tour?”

 

Regina’s mind went through the rooms quickly, rolodexing through the state of them to determine if there would be any awkwardness. Ordinarily meticulous, she reasoned the only room that might be unsuitable for viewing was her walk-in closet, where she had spent an hour before going out in a desperate spiral over what to wear. 

 

And yeah, she’d imagined this more than once, in her weaker moments when the curious longing for the woman who had lit her on fire was too much to resist. It still felt surreal that she was letting Emma Swan of all people into her sanctuary. 

 

Perhaps this was a bad idea. 

 

She wasn’t sure if she’d ever recover from this magical evening. 

 

But then. She wanted her. And she had already proven herself wholly incapable of denying Emma anything. 

 

“Sure,” Regina answered belatedly. “Let’s start with the kitchen so you can put those down.”

 

~.~

 

They were five minutes and a few rooms into the tour when they walked the short corridor from the lounge to the master bedroom. When Regina opened the door, Emma took one look at the perfectly made queen sized bed and muttered a hungry curse word under her breath. That was all it took for Regina to respond with almost exactly what had been running through Emma’s mind when she had sworn quietly. 

 

All too quickly, Emma had found herself pushed roughly against the doorframe with Regina’s lips pressed hungrily against hers. Her head hit the frame, and it was almost enough to make her see stars, if she hadn’t been already by the feeling of Regina’s perfect body pressed against her and her tongue moving softly along her lower lip. 

 

“Holy fuck.”

 

It was messy, full of yearning, and Regina wasn't even sure which of them had said it. 

 

“Did you-” Regina murmured, not wanting to break the moment. “I mean - God - I want you, and it’s totally fine if this is all you want from this evening.” She gestured between them, even though her meaning was painfully obvious. “But I don’t know, I feel like - maybe - this could - we could… I’d like to-”

 

Fuck, it was unlike her to be so inarticulate. She’d blame the alcohol, but she knew it was all Emma.

 

Fortunately, Emma understood all that remained painfully unspoken, found Regina’s sudden nerves cute, adorable even. 

 

“Oh believe me, I want you. Tonight - well, this morning - even though it feels soon. I don’t think I can wait.” she replied, because yeah. Regina was a fucking magnet. And she was only human. “But I would like for this to be more than just a casual one night thing, too.” 

 

“Thank fuck for that,” Regina breathed unsteadily. Emma chuckled, and it went straight between Regina’s thighs. “Do you mind if we leave the getting to know each other properly for the morning, then?” She asked boldly, swallowing down the proper part of her that her parents had moulded. She had denied herself pleasure for so many years under their watch, and it felt like she would explode with need if she didn’t get to touch Emma soon. 

 

Regina could still feel Emma’s toned body trapped between her own legs and the doorframe, so she felt the subconscious motion of Emma’s hips against hers. She read the desire as Emma’s lip dropped, and her eyes unfocused slightly, almost imperceptibly. 

 

She took advantage of the situation and pulled Emma’s lower lip into her mouth, moaning as she tasted the bitter tang of barley lingering from the IPA they had both enjoyed. Regina couldn’t help but tangle her arms around Emma’s waist, exhaling softly as she allowed herself a squeeze of the perfect ass that Emma had flaunted in her face a couple of hours earlier. It was just as she had imagined, soft but firm and capable of driving her completely to distraction. 

 

“Yessss,” Emma uttered, halfway between a breath and a groan. 

 

“Yes, as in you are ok with doing this slightly out of order?” Regina checked, needing to know for sure. She was not going to mess things up with Emma Swan, of all people.

 

“Yessss,” Emma repeated herself, frustration building as Regina continued to stall. “Yes, I want you to stop taking your sweet time and fuck me, please.”

 

She was all but begging, and it made Regina feel simultaneously weak at the knees and the most powerful she had ever felt. To have this remarkable woman needy, hungry, wanting because of her. 

 

Regina was absolutely screwed. 

 

There would be no recovering, not from Emma fucking Swan. 

 

So she did what any reasonable woman would with such maddening temptation in front of her, she migrated her hand from Emma’s ass - which elicited a needy whimper from the blonde, but who was keeping score? - and pulled her roughly by the hand towards her bed, grateful for the walk-in closet that meant the bed was perfectly made and bare enough to throw Emma on top of the comforter. 

 

The second whimper fell desperately from Emma’s lips, and Regina held herself back from teasing her about it. The last thing she wanted was for Emma to become self conscious and to stop. Now she’d heard it once, Regina needed to hear Emma’s moans like she needed air to breathe. If she had thought Emma’s perfect singing voice was addictive, she’d had no idea of the other sounds Emma could make. 

 

It still felt quite surreal.

 

“You look so fucking perfect,” she smiled, climbing over Emma so that she was straddling her waist. Long blonde princess curls spilled across Regina’s white pillowcase, and lust overflowed from warm green eyes in a similar manner. 

 

“You’re pretty much a walking wet dream, Regina,” Emma returned, her hands moving up Regina’s sides to cup her perfect tits. And just like that, Regina was the one whimpering. “So you said your boundaries would be different if I asked you when we were alone. Help me understand what’s on or off the table. I don’t want you to regret anything tomorrow.”

 

And well. 

 

She felt suddenly sobered by the eye of the storm in front of her. The swirling had calmed and been replaced by the certainty of how much she wanted this, and how much it felt like the right thing. 

 

“You can take my clothes off here,” she laughed, returning them both to the moment on the stage. “In fact, I really fucking want you to.” 

 

“Fuck. Hot. But not a full answer,” Emma pressed. 

 

“I think I’d be up for pretty much anything you want, Em-ma,” Regina tried to downplay how her voice stuttered on Emma’s name. She was so far gone, and not really in control any more. “I’ll tell you if I’m not enjoying anything - how’s that sound?”

 

Emma chuckled wryly. 

 

“That sounds exactly how I feel,” she replied belatedly. “I can’t explain it, but God, I want everything.”

 

Regina’s heart soared. She readjusted her hips slightly, pressing down on Emma’s centre with her own and forcing twinned moans from both of their mouths. 

 

“One more thing,” Regina added. She couldn’t help herself. It felt wrong to not let Emma know who she was to her, whilst there was still the small but painful possibility she could back out.

 

“Hmm?” Emma replied, already leaning up on her elbows to kiss along Regina's collarbone. 

 

“I - uh - you should know…” Regina said seriously, placing her hand on Emma’s jaw and forcing her to look up. She felt Emma swallow thickly under her hand, and saw her eyes widen for a fraction of a second. 

 

So Emma liked Regina’s hands on her neck, liked when Regina took control… File that one away for later . 

 

“You are the first woman I’ve ever-” she trailed off, willing Emma to understand without making her explain in detail. 

 

“Oh,” Emma exhaled in understanding. “Thanks for telling me, didn’t sound easy for you to. But it doesn’t matter to me.” Regina breathed a sigh of relief, which morphed into a moan as she readjusted again and her clit rubbed gently on Emma’s pubic bone. Emma wasn’t finished reassuring her. “I’d kind of assumed you had. I mean, seriously, I find it hard to believe that no one’s offered before.”

 

“Yeah, well…” Regina replied, steeling herself for a bigger admission. “I only realised a year ago that… My sister dragged me out tonight to celebrate my coming-out-iversary.”

 

“Hot damn,” Emma whistled, writhing under Regina and willing her to just get to the fucking point so they could stop talking and start using their mouths for other things. 

 

“I um - actually - it was because of you,” she finally admitted. 

 

“What do you mean?” Emma asked, confused. 

 

“My sister took me to Brooklyn to see you, February seventeenth. And God, you’re fucking dynamite Emma Swan. Your show completely blew my mind. I’ve thought - assumed - I was straight for three decades, but one look at you, something just clicked into place. And tonight is the first time I’ve seen you since, but I’ve - um - thought about you - a lot . So when you sent me that scrap of napkin, I thought fuck it.”

 

Emma stayed silent, processing. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t change anything. Because Emma Swan didn’t date fans. She had made the mistake once, just after releasing her first big single. It had been messy, with a weird power dynamic which made her feel gross. But then Regina held just as much power over Emma as she held over her. Regina was the one that was miles out of Emma’s league, not the other way round. And if what she said was true, it had been a year and Regina had not so much as sent her an instagram DM. So she didn’t seem the fame-hungry or weirdly obsessive sort. 

 

And hot damn, Regina had just told her that she was the reason she’d shucked all expectations and decades of presumed heterosexuality because of her. And that felt fucking fantastic. Then God, Emma wasn’t sure she could resist Regina’s perfect hips grinding over her, whether she had reservations about the rest or not. She was painfully aroused, and still residually drunk enough that she wanted to indulge her messier feelings in any case. Regina had said that she was dynamite, but she had clearly not read the room earlier, because the whole room full of lesbians had all but exploded at the image of her. 

 

They could be adults about it, right? See where it went with no hard feelings if it didn’t work out. 

 

“Fuck, Regina,” she answered at last. “I’m not gonna lie, that’s a lot.” 

 

“I know, there wasn’t really a good moment to bring it up. But I needed to tell you before… I don’t want you to regret this either. I don’t think I could live with that,” she admitted. “I completely get it if you want to go home. I mean, I really don’t want that. But I would understand.”

 

There was a waver in her voice. She tried to hide it, to remain stoic in the face of Emma’s impending refusal. 

 

“I don’t want that either,” Emma said evenly. “I guess we’re doing this now,” she smiled softly. 

 

“Doing what?” Regina asked for clarification, leaning back on her calves to put some distance between them, trying to give Emma space in case she needed it.

 

“Regina Mills,” she said seriously, using the name she had seen on the call button in the elevator. Regina looked surprised, and then aroused, but Emma continued uninterrupted. “Thank you for telling me all of that. But you haven’t changed my mind. I still want you to fuck me nice and good tonight. And then I want to get to know you later. No hard feelings if it doesn’t work out, but this evening was the closest I’ve ever come to magic, and I know for sure that the thing I would regret most is not seeing where this goes.” 

 

“Holy shit,” Regina cursed breathily in response. 

 

Talk about a dream come true. She willed herself to retain her composure despite everything in her screaming otherwise. 

 

“Yeah?” Emma challenged, begging Regina to cross the line she’d been tiptoeing against all night. 

 

“You’re the one who’s magic, Emma,” she said simply.

 

Emma smiled, and it felt like the world stood still for a floaty moment. 

 

~.~

Notes:

Hoping to check, tweak and post the next couple of chapters this week whilst I continue the latter part of the story. If any of you have been holding out for the E-rated part of the story, the first bit will be those two chapters, get ready ;)

Chapter 8

Notes:

This is where the story earns its rating (well, apart from my potty mouth dispersing explicit language throughout). If lesbian sex is not your thing, then don't say I didn't warn you. You can pick back up at chapter 10 without missing too much!

If you do like lesbian sex (and let's be honest, you saw that this fic was inspired by Chappell Roan, so you probably do), then look no further, 2 chapters of gratuitous smut for you!

“Can I please take off your clothes now?” Regina asked when it had passed. There was a whine to her voice which spoke of the impatience that had built over the last three hours, over the last twelve months if she was being honest. 

 

“Fuck, please,” Emma permitted. 

 

The waistcoat fell off in one fluid motion, and Regina was treated to the view of Emma in that barely big enough lace bralette and jeans for a second time that evening. Of course, she had enjoyed the way that Emma had peeled the denim from her body when she had hung steadfast over her on the stage, but there was something even more delicious about slowly but smoothly removing it herself. She hummed in approval, and was rewarded with a blush underneath blonde curls. 

 

It took no time at all for both women to recover from their more serious conversation, to be panting eagerly once more, fuelled on desire and gasping at the heady fumes. Emma exhaled against warm air, and Regina mirrored her heavy breathing against the skin of Emma’s chest. Black lace was pushed aside, and Emma moaned her name as Regina laved her tongue around a dusky pink nipple that became increasingly taut between her lips. 

 

“Oh God,” Emma interspersed with Regina's name. It felt so good. 

 

Regina felt Emma’s hips bucking towards her, canting towards her own and stoking the tension growing in her gut. 

 

“Now, I believe you gave me permission for clothes, plural?” She teased, her voice musical with its playfulness. 

 

“Please,” Emma moaned hungrily, fast losing what shred of composure she had regained as their talk had pressed the brakes on any physical intimacy. Not for the first time since meeting Regina, her jeans became overwhelmingly restrictive as they pressed the seat of damp lace across her clit. The friction, frustratingly slight though it was, spilled her desires from her lips, where Regina kissed them away and refused them deliciously to prolong Emma’s wanting a moment longer. 

 

“I’m getting to it,” Regina chastised, taking her time to enjoy the sight of Emma so deliciously undone underneath her. 

 

True to her word, she kissed a trail downwards, releasing Emma’s nipple with a wet ‘pop’ and trailing her tongue down toned abs. 

 

When she took Emma’s zipper between her teeth and started to drag it downwards, she felt Emma’s hips buck towards her nose, and heard a rough intake of breath against her pillows. So close to Emma’s centre, she could smell the other woman’s arousal thickly in the air, all rich and tangy and full of musk. She faltered on her path as she processed how turned on it made her. Still, she recovered quickly, smirked as she continued enjoying herself immensely. Emma’s pleasure was her own, and she struggled against her own arousal to take it slowly. 

 

“Jesus Christ,” she exclaimed when she had succeeded in freeing Emma from her tight clothing. “You sure don’t like to make it easy for me.”

 

“Well, I hadn’t - ah - planned for anything beyond karaoke,” she blushed. “It’s not my fault that you tempted me into the whole lapdance thing.”

 

“Remind me, Em-ma. Who was it that asked for a ‘pretty little femme’ to come and sit for them?” She returned, the fiery challenge rising between them again with its delicious flames coiling something wonderful in Regina’s gut.

 

“You loved the jeans on stage,” Emma replied churlishly, refusing to take any responsibility. 

 

“Oh, yeah. Your ass looked fucking fabulous,” Regina admitted. “Not as good as it does now, I have to say,” she finished, remaining seated on her calves and roaming over the planes of Emma’s body with ravenous eyes. Hands soon followed eyes, and it was Regina’s turn to moan as she felt the soft skin of Emma’s perfect butt under her palms, firm as it had been under her jeans but infinitely more maddening without the thin denim between them. 

 

Emma leaned up, her stomach muscles clenching fabulously, and reached for Regina’s hand deliberately. 

 

And yeah, perhaps Regina was stalling, still. Four years was a long time for nerves to build back up, and she was anxious that Emma would be disappointed in her inexperience. She wanted to touch her, more than she even wanted air. But the thought of moving her hands an inch or two forward was as terrifying as it was enticing. 

 

“I’m not gonna break,” Emma chuckled reassuringly, as if reading the brunette’s mind. She placed Regina's hand at her waistband, and it was enough to put her firmly back in the driving seat. She ran her fingers tantalisingly across the edges of matching black lace, heart jumping as she felt the impossible wetness spilling from the seat of Emma's underwear and telling her just how much she wanted this.

 

“Fuck,” Regina moaned.

 

She eased Emma's panties down her legs, which was much more sensual and less awkward than the jeans had been. Making sure to caress with gentle touches, she allowed her lips to follow her fingers in painting a scorching path back up to the apex of Emma's thighs.

 

Emma had been patient, and understanding, all evening, so Regina shucked the remaining trepidation and allowed herself to touch the glistening peak of Emma's arousal.

 

The expletive was back. She practically gushed it as Emma squirmed beneath small but surprisingly forceful fingers which traced the outline of Emma's folds with wonder. Her thumb found a small pocket of sensitivity at the top of Emma's vulva and she boldly traced a rapid back and forth motion. 

 

“God, don't stop,” Emma begged, feeling herself clenching against air and bucking against the hand at her clit.

 

Regina maintained the deliberate contact between Emma's legs, and leaned down over her to swallow the increasingly loud moans that Emma couldn't hold back. It was surprisingly romantic, intimate even, and a minute or so of making out and grinding herself on Regina's fingers later, and she felt the tension rising to a peak.

 

She pulled back from Regina's lips to resume her begging, now that she was so close.

 

Regina felt it, the urgency in Emma's tone. And really, Emma had been so patient. So she allowed one of the fingers that had been tracing the rough path up and down her folds to slip inside her maddening heat.

 

And oh, Regina was completely ruined. It felt so good. The tight, wet heat consuming her, with the soundtrack of Emma's keening and the give and take of pressure around her fingers and Emma's body pressed tightly to her own.

 

Sex with him had never felt like this, and Emma had barely even touched her.

 

“You're fucking perfect Emma,” she marvelled. “So wet, so hot, so- oh God,” she encouraged, migrating her mouth and the wet trail of her kisses to Emma's ear so she knew the other woman would hear her benedictions.

 

Emma tensed, and Regina knew her release was imminent. She suckled lightly on the elastic skin behind Emma's ear, and murmured her encouragement. 

 

Emma was wound into a coil tighter than her fists on Regina's soft bedsheets. Regina was everywhere, and every single touch licked a new flame of arousal that collected between her legs. As soon as one finger had entered her, she knew she was a goner. It was embarrassing, really, how quickly she was going to fall apart. And Regina was pretty much fully clothed, she hadn't gotten round to removing anything she'd been wearing before they fell into bed together. But Emma had a fucking marvellous view down the barely-covering-her-tits corset she had considered club-appropriate. And it, and remembering her in it as they'd sung her own song together, was enough to tip the first domino that had everything else cascading and falling apart in a gloriously elongated descent into euphoria.

 

“Re-gi-na,” she huffed with exertion as she fell over the precipice. Everything went deliciously quiet for a stranded moment, before the blood behind her ears roared into existence again, and she panted to catch her breath in the aftermath.

 

“I know,” Regina replied softly, running soothing circles across Emma's torso to help her come down from the high. 

 

~.~

 

Basking in the aftereffects, Emma closed her eyes and chuckled to herself. It'd taken some maddening back and forth in lieu of more traditional foreplay, but God it had been worth it. Emma had had some pretty good sex in her life, but Regina Mills took the fucking cake. And she hadn't even tasted her yet.

 

“Something funny, dear?” Came the soft thrum of Regina's voice breaking her introspection.

 

“Just amazed by the fact that that was apparently your first outing,” Emma replied, the appreciation thick in her tone.

 

Regina blushed, and fuck she was so beautiful it hurt. So Emma told her as much, and she blushed harder. 

 

“I wasn't done,” Regina warned her, distracting Emma from her compliments. “In case you thought you were getting off lightly.”

 

“Oh?” Emma squeaked, anticipation building even though her brain still hadn't fully returned from its post-orgasm vacation.

 

“Oh Em-ma,” she spoke in a voice that was equal parts innocence and sin. “You'll come to know that I am both a fast learner and a perfectionist. And there are so many things I'd like to perfect with you, quickly.”

 

“Oh God, ” Emma breathed. This woman was the pure embodiment of temptation, her perfect presentation underpinned by the performance of Emma’s life - all wrapped up into the full on fucking goddess in front of her.

 

“Now, where was I?” Regina asked herself, smirking and dripping with sex. Emma could feel the tension building again, and Regina's fingers hadn't moved beyond gentle soothing pulses inside her. “That's right,” she pretended to remember. 

 

She pulled sticky fingers from Emma's centre and made a show of taking her forefinger into her mouth and licking it clean. Emma whimpered again, her vagina clenching around empty air as she saw Regina's mouth take its place around her fingers.

 

“Mmm delicious,” Regina thrilled, and she wasn't lying. Nor was she exaggerating, Emma's wetness really did taste that good. There was something so hedonistic about both the act of tasting and the flavour of her. And there was so much power in feeling - tasting - the effect she had on this woman, who had affected her so much over the past year. 

 

Emma moaned at Regina's evident pleasure, and the woman straddling her eyed her curiously.

 

“Oh, were you feeling left out?” She feigned curiosity. “Perhaps you'd like a taste?”

 

And yeah, Emma wouldn't usually - but God - for Regina, in this moment. Fuck. She wanted to. 

 

It was concerning quite how quickly it had escalated from a hungry look at Regina Mills descending the stairs towards Emma’s seat at the bar to being completely at her mercy and thrilled to be so. She wanted nothing else than Regina's pleasure, knowing that would amount to her own. The whole evening had been completely unexplainable, and already had given Emma more gratification than she had ever expected. There was something enthralling and addictive about Regina Mills, and Emma happily surrendered to it - to her.

 

“Please,” she begged, blushing with mild embarrassment at her own neediness. 

 

Regina smiled approvingly at her, and the embarrassment morphed into pleasure at having made her happy.

 

Jesus, she was screwed.

 

“I think I better sample at source, don't you think?” Regina asked her casually. 

 

And fuck. She'd never met anyone who could make sex sound so fancy and yet wildly depraved at the same time. It was intoxicating.

 

“Be my - fuuuuuck,” she started, cut off by her own expletive as warm lips encircled her clit. Regina's eyes sparkled up at her as her tongue moved where her fingers had been not long before. 

 

“Mmmhmm?” Regina hummed, sending incredible vibrations all through Emma's centre. 

 

“Bemyguest,” Emma rushed out, before losing herself in the sensation of Regina's wet mouth all over her.

 

It was just as well for the rapid expulsion of words, because her brain completely left the building a moment later when Regina's fingers - wet from their own excursion into Emma's mouth - joined the party, pumping in and curling at just that spot which turned Emma completely feral.

 

And then it was happening again, the liquefying of all of her bones and muscles, pulling her from herself and into the magical tangle of pure feeling which was the release that Regina found for her.

 

She was still floating when she regained feeling moments - or minutes - or a lifetime - later.

 

“Woah,” she breathed when she could.

 

Regina was waiting patiently for her, making a point of licking her arousal from her lips and fingers and humming in delight.

 

She looked like the cat that got the cream, and Emma had never seen anything more beautiful or destructive than Regina Mills in her whole life. So she told her.

 

“Thank you, Emma,” Regina said softly. 

 

Her shyness was returning with the rebalancing of the reins. Ceding control was not something Regina was particularly accustomed to, or comfortable with. But if she wanted Emma to touch her - and God, she had not wanted anything as much as she wanted that in a long, long time - she would have to allow Emma to take the lead. 

 

“You've definitely got that the wrong way round,” Emma laughed weakly, recovering. 

 

Regina just smiled at her, beyond elated that she hadn't scared her off, and more than a little tempted by the gorgeous figure splayed across her bed in recovery. 

 

“But give me a minute,” she promised breathily. “-and I'll return the favour. You best be ready.” 

 

And through a shaky inhalation, Regina realised quite how much trouble she was in. She was going to be coming back to this exact moment whenever she felt alone again, searching for the soft memory of Emma Swan in her sheets. And she was already more aroused than she had ever been, drunk on the image of her deepest fantasy dying a delicious little death beneath her.

 

~.~

 

Chapter 9

Notes:

One more explicit chapter, just as a reminder. I promise the plot picks back up again soon. For now, enjoy Regina getting her well-deserved happy returns.

The thought of what she stood to lose sat with Regina whilst she waited for Emma to recover herself, tracing lazy circles across the exposed skin of her back and breathing as evenly as she was able given the circumstances. 

 

Ordinarily, the idea of snuggling in the aftermath made Regina’s skin crawl. Even during the one relationship where she had finally felt safe enough to allow it before - with him - it had set her on edge. There was a curious vulnerability to the quiet after the storm, a gentle connection that was somehow more intimate than the sex itself. Held in the moment where there was no control to be given or taken, only quiet power to be shared, Regina was at her most naked. 

 

But the give and take of her touch across Emma’s back and the pleasant warmth of Emma’s heavy breathing at her neck set Regina curiously at ease. 

 

Regina felt Emma’s shoulders shake slightly under her protective arms, and looked down to see her beautiful smile stealing the calm from her eyes. 

 

“Something funny?” She asked, trying to stem the irrational fear that she’d done something worth being made fun of.

 

“I still find it hard to believe that you’ve never done that before,” Emma explained. “And that you're still fully clothed,” she deadpanned. 

 

“I’m not sure this counts as fully clothed,” she gestured to her corset-style top. Emma's eyes followed the movement hungrily, and it made Regina feel incredible.

 

She looked down at herself, following Emma's lead in processing her current state of dress. It wasn’t like she had forgotten - the sticky situation in the seat of her pants made certain of that. But until it had been vocalised, she had been rather caught up in Emma’s pleasure, her own discomfort taking a backseat. 

 

“Fine. I find it hard to believe you've not taken any more clothes off, ” Emma corrected. “And yeah… I know your clothes are comfy, because there's no way they're not fully tailored, but it feels kind of unfair,” she elaborated, wildly comfortable in her own nakedness in a way that did nothing to calm Regina's raging arousal. 

 

Still, Regina joined in with the gentle laughter. It died somewhere on its way to her throat as she felt Emma’s hand steady at the button over her stomach. 

 

“Be my - guest,” Regina breathed, echoing Emma’s earlier words with a smile that belied the nerves she felt. No matter how much she wanted Emma to touch her - no matter that she knew that to do so, Emma was going to have to see her first… she still felt more vulnerable than she had all evening. Even having an audience when Emma straddled her on the stage, something which until today would've had Regina running and screaming, paled into comparison when she felt sure and certain fingers ghosting over her zipper. But Emma's experience eclipsed her own uncertainty, and it didn’t take long for Regina’s soaked underwear to follow black pants to the foot of the bed, where Emma’s clothes had gathered in an unshapely pile not long before. They were soon forgotten just as quickly as Emma's had been once she felt strong fingers replace the thin fabric that had been covering her centre.

 

Emma cursed thickly as she felt the effects of the evening slick between Regina’s thighs. 

 

“My God, ” she continued, “is there anything at all about you that’s not perfect?”

 

And oh. The heady warmth surrounded her at Emma’s words. She tried to not read too much into it, to remind herself that Emma didn’t really know her, and that her goal right now was to try to make Regina feel good. There was a very real possibility she was just saying it for effect - all of it - and Regina fought to remember that with every fibre of sense that remained in the overwhelming tide of feeling. 

 

But she allowed herself a split second of belief amidst the tidal wave of denial. And it felt wonderful to feel so wanted, even for a fraction of a moment.

 

“Seriously,” Emma reiterated, pausing her teasing motion at Regina’s thighs to gesture to all of her. “If it weren’t for that fucking amazing orgasm - that I can still feel by the way - I’d have doubts you were even real.”

 

And now Regina was blushing. Yet again, Emma was making it exceedingly hard for her to maintain the rigid control she always held over her mind and movements. And what was she meant to say to that, anyway?

 

She opted for pulling Emma roughly to her face and giving her a deep kiss instead of struggling for words. Emma moaned at the coarse movement, and the feeling of Regina’s lips on hers once again. 

 

In her distraction, Emma’s fingers moved the final inch or so up Regina’s thighs, and it made her gasp into their kiss. The fingers which until now had been light and sensitive and not quite where she was silently begging for them touched rough, soaking nerves that made Regina jump. It was crazy, quite how desperate she was already, with just a single firm touch to her sensitive core.

 

“Ah, Em-ma,” she breathed into her open mouth. It wasn’t quite begging, but it definitely wasn’t not begging in the same breath. 

 

“Sensitive, huh?” Emma teased her, and Regina had the good grace to whimper as they both realised the truth in Emma's statement. Regina watched as a broad grin all but split Emma's face in two. It ignited something warm and longing in her chest, and she tried to ignore the way she never wanted it to end.

 

Emma wasn't done teasing, apparently, because she followed her rough motion against Regina's clit with a feather-light sweep through soaking folds and back again.

 

Regina panted at her ear, and Emma almost let go of her resolve to see Regina naked before seeing her come undone. Almost.

 

“Do you think you can get out of that thing on your own?” Emma asked impishly, eyes sparkling with amusement and arousal as if this were all a game to her. 

 

“It ties at the back - ah - I'm not su-ure,” she replied, not quite able to hold her perfect poise as Emma's fingers continued uninterrupted. “My - fuck - my sister - Jesus - tied it for me earli-ah.”

 

“God, Regina. You sound so goddamn pretty when you sing for me,” Emma muttered lowly into Regina's ear. Her breath was flush against the overheated skin of Regina's neck, and it caused her to shiver even though she was far from feeling cold. “But I'd love to give you a hand, if you ask me nicely.”

 

Regina wasn't sure Emma was talking about her corset anymore, but the answer was the same either way.

 

“Yes please,” she panted. “I want - uh - your hands… your help,” she attempted.

 

“Is that so?” Emma drawled, and it sounded like sin.

 

“Please,” Regina breathed, becoming less and less able to control her lips as Emma’s fingers continued their work between her legs. 

 

Oh how the tables had turned. 

 

Emma divested her of the corset without much ceremony, kissing the skin as it was revealed to her butterfly hook by butterfly hook. Regina whined at the loss of contact below her waistline, but it felt great to be out of her restrictive underwear. Rather than being embarrassed by her own nakedness, Regina felt only warmth - heat - tearing through her and begging for a release. 

 

“Please, Em-ma,” she repeated her earlier petition. 

 

“Holy shit,” Emma replied, both in response to Regina’s broken attempt at her name and to the expanse of curves that had been at long last revealed to her. “Hot damn,” she continued, choosing to remind Regina of quite how brain-breakingly attractive she was. 

 

Emma kissed a lazy trail across Regina’s chest, taking her time to lavish her attention there until Regina was squirming and searching for Emma’s hand with her hips.

 

Her third plea did not fall on unhearing ears. 

 

“You… taste… divine…” Emma mouthed, punctuating her silent words with a lick of Regina’s skin as she moved further and further down towards her end goal. 

 

“Mmm?” Regina asked wordlessly, finally giving up with trying to maintain any semblance of coherence or control. In truth, she had been too far gone to be able to exchange pleasantries with Emma Swan for the better part of an hour, and all attempts at conversation had taken an inordinate amount of concentration. Held in place by Emma’s strong hand at her waist, Regina’s substitution of words with moans finally gave Emma the permission - and encouragement - she needed to sample her first taste of Regina Mills. 

 

She licked a firm and steady line across Regina’s slit, and they moaned in tandem. 

 

“Oh,” Emma moaned into Regina’s soaked skin. “Oh.” 

 

“Em-ma,” she replied, in that same broken way that had made the woman in question’s heart skip a beat before. It was almost a prayer, a lifeline against her own swell of emotion that held her still, and kept her on task. She would be damned if she didn’t see Regina fall apart too.

 

Emma sucked slightly at Regina’s clit, and she swore in response. 

 

Fast fingers followed her languorous tongue, and soon Regina was keening with pleasure at the feeling of Emma’s talented fingers moving inside her and her mouth all over the outside.

 

Emma paused for a moment a few minutes later, sitting up slightly to admire her handiwork. And just like every other moment of this wild and perfect night, Regina Mills did not disappoint. Her body was explosive, she was grasping Emma’s hair in one hand and expensive sheets in the other. Her eyes were closed, and her face was scrunched up as if that would help to find herself amidst the pleasure. Her body was jerking towards and away from the source of her pleasure, and Emma’s gut filled with warmth to see this fierce and beautiful woman so undone because of her actions.

 

“You look so fucking hot when you’re about to come, baby,” Emma encouraged, hovering above Regina’s most sensitive nerves as she spoke, and blowing cool air over her to keep her hovering on the precipice for a moment longer.

 

“I - ungh - Em-ma,” Regina moaned, too far gone to care about anything apart from the fact that Emma had stopped her skilled tongue, and Regina would do just about anything to get her to start again.

 

Her own name dripping from Regina’s lips was enough to convince Emma to return to her previous motions. She sucked lightly on her clit and curled the fingers that were inside her, and she felt Regina's body tense all over. 

 

“Emma, Emma, Em-ma, ” Regina cried as she came. 

 

It was fucking fireworks. She was exploding. Everything was shrouded in heat, red and crazy and intoxicating. Nothing before had ever come close. 

 

~.~

 

Chapter 10

Notes:

Hi, hello and salutations to anyone rejoining us from the past 2 chapters.

Your TL;DR if you didn't read is as follows:
they went back to Regina's place rather than the bar, nominally to "get to know each other." But because they (read: the author) were impatient and horny, not much getting to know each other happened on an intellectual level. But they did learn that Regina is very much not straight, and Emma was very much happy to help her realise that.

We pick back up with the morning after!

Regina woke with soft heat lingering in muscles which were tender from the night before. She stretched in place, feeling the pull of her protesting limbs as her body screamed at her betrayal, for more exertion than she was used to. But she couldn’t find a single ounce of regret amongst the weight of her joy. Smiling, images returned to her of the way that Emma had moved so enthusiastically against her, of how she had cried her name, of how it had felt better than anything she remembered. She blushed as she recalled the sounds that Emma had made, almost hearing them echoed against the stillness of the morning with sunlight bathing her skin in the glorious aftermath. 

 

Her eyes opened reluctantly, not wanting to take the chance that anything might rear its head and sour the sweetness of a perfect night with her perfect woman. 

 

“Good morning,” she murmured in a voice thick with sleep. 

 

A beat, silent as the last, grew uncomfortably beside her. 

 

“Emma?” She asked louder, finding her voice despite it being scratchy from the alcohol and the emotion that she’d overindulged in the night before. 

 

She rolled over, towards Emma’s side of the bed, and-

 

Oh. 

 

Oh no.

 

There it was. The still, empty bed was mocking her. 

 

Told you so, the terrible, awful half of her brain taunted. What a fucking idiot. 

 

Regina wished for the anger to come, the part where she would rant and storm and throw something across the room. She longed to have an outlet that would let her feel anything other than that which she was currently drowning in. 

 

It felt like her heart was being torn from her chest and squeezed by some masochist right in front of her eyes.

 

And at the same time, the taunting, hurtful voice went straight for her jugular. 

 

The problem with having an argument with herself was that the devil on her shoulder knew absolutely everything she did, and so it went right for the fleshy bits between the sinews, targeting the exact emotional wounds which would inflict the most damage. And Regina had more than enough damage to go after, so it was a massacre. She fought her mothers words as they reminded her that nothing about her would ever be enough.

 

First, there was the thought that Emma had found her wanting. It had been her first time, after all. And whilst she had never felt anything quite so brain-meltingly marvellous, perhaps Emma’s enthusiasm - and her multiple orgasms  - had been for show?

 

Then there was the unhelpful part of her that argued it was perhaps her body that Emma had found unappealing enough to run from. God knows, she’d spent more than a few years in front of the mirror wishing to magic away parts of herself, to make herself more palatable, more attractive, or simply less. 

 

But Emma had told her she was gorgeous more than once before, and then she had said so during, and after. 

 

It didn’t quite add up. 

 

Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything at all, it could have been her candour that was her downfall. Should she have not told Emma she was a fan? Maybe what had seemed flirty and fun the night before had turned into a nightmare in the cold light of day. Regina was the one who had given up her location and her secrets, but perhaps even the small amount that Emma had revealed had set her red flags running. 

 

Or maybe it had all been for show in the first place. Emma had proven that she was a world-class performer, had even won multiple awards that confirmed it. Perhaps everything that Regina had read as sincerity had instead been a carefully crafted charade to have Regina eating out of the palm of her hand. Even the faint suggestion of deception made Regina feel used and dirty, quickly followed by a guilty voice that told her Emma would never do that. 

 

But then she hadn’t gotten to the point of getting to know Emma, not really. 

 

But whatever the cause - and all of them devastating - the result was the same. Regina swallowed the bile that rose as she realised that she would likely never see Emma again. 

 

She shuddered, unable to reign it in as her vision blurred with the heavy tears swimming across her lids. 

 

It was so unfair. What had been the best night of her life, a culmination of almost a year of her wildest fantasies, had ended as abruptly as it had begun. The tears were falling in earnest now, and her breath was hitching - the first warning of a full on breakdown hitting her in the head with the force of a thunderstorm.

 

~.~

 

It was Zelena who broke through to her first. She’d been resolutely ignoring anything outside the safety of her duvet for a couple of hours, relishing in the closeness of the confined space whilst everything outside it seemed to be falling apart. She knew it was melodramatic, that she had taken Emma’s rejection like she was a fifteen-year-old and the world was ending. But the promise of Emma Swan and a possible future beyond the one perfect night they had shared was too much. 

 

“Go away, Zee,” she grumbled into her cell phone, only picking it up when it became apparent that the ringer wasn’t going to disappear any time soon. 

 

Her sister had the absolute nerve to ring her right back after she hung up unceremoniously without waiting for a response to her grumbling. 

 

“That bad, huh?” She asked gently when Regina answered for the second time. “Do I need to send in the cavalry?”

 

“I told you, go away, Zelena,” Regina sniffled, refusing to cooperate. Sure, she knew she was being immature, but it was all she felt capable of in the moment. 

 

“And I know you, and I refuse,” she replied. Regina could tell Zelena was using all the hard earned patience she had developed from years of teenage bickering, and all of the Regina-wrangling skills she had entered adulthood with. She could be surprisingly patient when she wanted to be, and the hiccoughing on the other end of the line told her that this was a moment she most definitely wanted to be. 

 

“You’re the worst,” Regina groused, relenting by removing some of the venom from her voice. She knew Zelena was trying her best, even if she refused to leave her the fuck alone. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it, or should I bring misters Ben and Jerry for an afternoon date at yours?” She asked gently. 

 

“I’ll talk,” Regina offered. 

 

It was a kind offer - Regina could tell by the way it made her chest ache a little - but there was no way she was in the mood for hosting. At least via phone call, she could make her embarrassment and heartbreak brief. 

 

“I’m listening,” Zelena teased to a dry silence on the other end. 

 

“I don’t know where to start…” Regina stumbled. 

 

“Well, it looked like you two had a good time, so when did it stop being good?” Zelena suggested softly. “Do I need to worry?”

 

“It was-” her voice broke, but she coughed and tried again. “It was good. So much more than good, in fact,” she rushed. 

 

Zelena could hear the warmth in her sister’s tone, Regina could sense the pride in reverse. 

 

“It was everything,” Regina said simply. “Until-” 

 

Her voice broke again. Fuck. It was so embarrassing.

 

“Until?” Zelena prompted when Regina didn’t immediately continue talking. Her concern was palpable, and it made Regina feel even worse. 

 

“Until she disappeared this morning when I was still asleep,” Regina explained bluntly.

 

“Oh, shit,” Zelena cursed, her voice paper thin and ready to tear at any moment. 

 

Regina’s reply was wordless, her anguish too primal to describe. In her quiet sobs, her sister understood. 

 

“That fucking coward,” Zelena fumed. “If she were here I would not be held accountable for my actions.”

 

And Regina had her anger, albeit vicariously given. But it did make her feel better. 

 

“Tell me what you’d do,” Regina asked her, needing the distraction just as much as she revelled in the rage. 

 

And whilst Zelena described the many different methods to exact some kind of physical embodiment of Regina's emotional pain on the woman who had caused it, Regina decided it was time to get out of bed at long last. She put the phone on speaker and went to brush her teeth, pulling on some soft cotton pyjamas that belied the loss of innocence of the past twenty four hours. Her sister finally ran dry of her vindictive payment methods by the time Regina was a bit more presentable. 

 

“Thanks for that, Zee. I don’t want you to actually do any of those things, because - yeah-” her voice dropped and she felt vaguely hollow. Words evaded her. She wanted to hate Emma Swan and her abandonment so much, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. Yeah, it was majorly shitty of her to leave without an explanation, but this kind of thing happened all the time. No matter if Emma had made her feel it the night before, Regina wasn’t special, and they weren’t anything to each other. Emma didn’t owe her anything, not even an explanation. 

 

“Anyway,” Regina distracted herself from her own spiralling. “I really appreciate you being here.”

 

"I know I said it last night, but let me say again for the - sober - record. I am so proud of you Regina. And I know it hasn’t ended the way you wanted it to, but not many people can say their first innings out of the sapphic gates was with a fucking superstar.”

 

Regina could hear the emotion in her sister’s voice, and it warmed her. It was so fucking nice to be looked after. 

 

“Correction: I’m not sure it was Emma’s first time,” Zelena added jokingly. 

 

That had Regina laughing, the warmth spreading with the movement of her chuckles. 

 

“All right, all right. Thanks Zee,” Regina replied, feigning frustration lest she start crying again. Why was she so fucking emotional? 

 

“Love you,” came the response. 

 

“Love you, too,” Regina said quietly. She still didn’t love the flavour of those words on her tongue, no matter if she felt it deeply. 

 

“Don't go doing anything stupid,” Zelena cautioned. 

 

“When have I ever?” Regina feigned indignance. 

 

How about last night? The hurtful voice in her head chimed in. 

 

“Just, please take care of yourself,” Zelena pressed, with feeling.

 

”Ok, I’m gonna hang up,” Regina warned. 

 

“Take care,” Zelena echoed again.

 

~.~  

 

Regina put the phone down wearily, feeling a lot lighter than she had before her sister had called, but with a residual heaviness which refused to be ignored. She padded her way over to the kitchen to scramble together some semblance of sustenance. She’d use the excuse of being hungover to allow herself a duvet day on the couch, watching some trashy reality tv and ignoring the barrage of messages which she could see building up in her inbox. Sure, they were probably trying to tell her something. But she didn’t want to know.

 

Her heart rate picked up, however, when she saw a bright yellow square interrupting the perfect minimalism of her kitchen countertop. It was next to the roses that Emma had brought with her the night before, somewhat wilted from being left out on the side forgotten. They’d been placed in a vase, and Regina had to assume it had been Emma’s doing as she had rushed out of the flat silently. Emotional whiplash hit her with full force, and she resolved to read the note to see what Emma had left her with.

 

good morning sleepyhead

sorry i left without saying goodbye

you looked too perfect sleeping

i didn’t want to wake you

i had a really good time last night

E x

 

The handwriting was chicken scratch, almost illegible. But Regina wanted to make sense of it, enough that she willed herself to. She read and reread it at least ten times, to make sure she wasn’t making it up. 

 

Yeah, idiot covered it.

 

How had she let herself get so caught up in her spiralling that she hadn’t even thought to check her apartment for evidence that Emma had cared just like she had thought she had?

 

Emma had enjoyed herself. Regina breathed a wide sigh of relief at the fact. 

 

It didn’t really explain why she had left, and why Emma hadn’t suggested another date. The sceptical half of Regina - the one which didn’t believe she was loveable - shouted louder than she was able to quiet that the note was a gentle letdown. Perhaps Emma had left it to diffuse any upset - to leave a longer fuse on any potential consequences of their night together. 

 

Regina was a fan and people had seen their chemistry on the stage together, so perhaps Emma was just worried that Regina might go public with what had happened, and thought an unscorned Regina was more likely to be kind and quiet. 

 

Shit, people had seen their chemistry on stage together. 

 

How had Regina forgotten? In the maelstrom of emotions at being rejected and alone, she had completely ignored her concern over the more public half of their affair.

 

She rapidly reached for her phone, resolving to send Emma one quick message - nothing too desperate, just letting her know the post-it feelings were mutual, and that she had no desire to cause Emma any trouble. Perhaps it would be enough for Emma to suggest a follow-up. 

 

Hi Emma

 

I got your note this morning, and wanted to say thank you. I had a great time too - the best in fact. Thank you for everything. 

 

Regina x  

Just as she was on the precipice of a micro-spiral, Regina heard three unmistakeable chimes from the hallway accompanied by the sound of vibrations against hardwood. 

 

Oh God. That couldn’t be good. 

 

Sure enough, Emma’s phone sat haphazardly on the unit by the door, amongst a tidy tapestry of Regina’s photos and possessions. The cracked screen looked slightly out-of-place against Regina’s display of order, but there was something endearing about it nonetheless. The screen was lit with notifications still, such was Regina's haste to find the source of the unexpected sound, and she saw her own messages appear in the preview pane. Her name was saved as ‘Hot Regina,” and the recollection of that conversation made Regina’s heart lurch once more. 

 

Regina couldn’t help herself, she picked up the phone and turned it over in her hands. The case was nondescript in pattern, but it was a collage of red, orange and pink cowboy gear on the back, and screamed Emma Swan so loudly Regina laughed  at equal volume into the cold of her hallway. 

 

She swiped her messages away with shaking thumbs and smiled at the lockscreen photo in front of her. It was a picture of Emma and her band grinning at the camera with hundreds of little lights behind her. The wildness of Emma’s smile kindled the wildfire of longing in Regina’s chest again, and whilst she still hadn’t quite forgiven Emma for leaving without a proper conversation about what this was, she felt that she could forgive her - especially if said forgiveness let her see that smile up close again. 

 

Just as she was holding the phone, she felt it vibrate again. The name was unfamiliar, but the tone of the preview sounded professional. It was to the point, and Emma saw the start of a maps link that she couldn’t unlock without a passcode. It could be a friend - or another one night stand - but the tone felt much too clinical. Emma didn’t strike her as the sort to be messaging her friends - or others - so formally. Perhaps it was her management?

 

After a moment’s deliberation, Regina decided to turn the phone off and assume the latter for her own peace of mind. She opened the top drawer of the unit and put the phone under some papers, resolving to forget about it until Emma returned to it - to her. 

 

~.~

 

Regina’s return to her own phone was with no small amount of reluctance. Her call with her sister had revealed a steady stream of notifications in her periphery, which she had successfully ignored for the better part of the morning. But she knew she couldn’t ignore the rest of the world forever, and permitted herself one final delay before sofa-cocooning and answering some of them. The delay in question, sustenance . 

 

So she found herself, large steaming coffee straight from her barista-grade machine, and a bowl of oatmeal with honey and an array of fruit and seeds. Both were well on their way to softening the harsh warning signs of a hangover by the time she finally let FaceID unleash the barely-contained flow. 

 

Are you still alive? I’m starting to worry, please call when you get this.

 

Earth to Regina - hope everything went amazingly last night. Care to share?

 

Where are you? I need DETAILS!!

 

So the girl’s night group were all of the same mind. They had each texted her individually, all apart from her sister - who had of course called instead. It made her feel cared for in a slightly foreign way, that each of them individually had thought of her, and worried for her wellbeing. The tight chest feeling was back again. 

 

She decided to reply in the group, rather than having to have the same conversation four times. 

 

  I’m alive.

 

Last night was unbelievable - was I dreaming? I think I might have drunk enough to hallucinate an impossibly hot country singer - yes, that one - into my bedroom. 

 

And holy fuck, she wasn’t lying when she sang that song with the fiddle. 

 

Job? Done.

 

Woman? Treated right. 

 

They all piled on instantly, which made Regina think they were somehow together somewhere. But maybe they’d just all been online at the same time. Their messages weren’t exactly legible, but for all of the typos and non-words therein, their excitement and enthusiasm was evident. 

 

I know, you’re all proud of me. And yes, I am definitely bisexual, if last night is anything to go by. But it’s not all sunshine and rainbows.

 

She waited a beat to build their anticipation. If she could find power anywhere today, she was going to savour it. 

 

She left today without waking me, so I think it was just a one time thing. 

 

Surprisingly, it was soft, even-tempered Belle who managed to reply first, and her tone was anything but. 

 

One time thing my ass, Regina. I have never seen someone as all over another human being as Emma was over you last night.

 

Regina chuckled darkly to herself. Little they knew. She sent a picture of the post-it, and explained what had transpired and how she was now in possession of Emma’s phone but not an explanation.

 

Belle won fastest fingers first again, and her reply had Regina spiralling again. 

 

She clearly left something behind as an excuse to come back later.

 

Did she? God. Did Regina need to make herself presentable just in case? Emma was busy, she’d probably send someone from her label or something, right?

 

But what if she did leave it on purpose? What if she wanted to see Regina again? It was all so exhausting, the pendulum of hope clanging loudly between her brain and heart. 

 

I’m not so sure-

 

If she was that adamant about seeing me again, why not just wake me and say so? Or write that in her note?

 

Hotness is wasted on the wrong people, Tink chimed in just as Zelena sent a forceful well get sure then.

 

There was a lot more back and forth, as well as a frankly invasive line of questioning about the night that had been the prelude to Regina’s fragile state this morning. But she indulged them, as it was the only way she knew to make it feel real - to stop it slipping through the fragile fingers of imperfect memory and into her wildest dreams again.

 

~.~

Notes:

so you all signed up knowing this comes in at under half the word count... right?

I know, I could have left it there, but as much as it was a challenge to write, I loved this version of the two of them. So expect a bit more angst coming to balance out the heat.

Chapter 11

Notes:

Did I promise ~ consequences ~ of their actions? I believe I did

Content warning for this chapter (see updated tags), there's some explicit homophobia from a parental figure and inferred creepiness from internet detectives, leading to forced outing, but nothing too explicit. What can I say? Cora's a piece of work. But Regina's got some fight in her, and other people in her life, so hopefully y'all wont kill me too hard (pls). I'll leave a TL;DR in the summary of the next chapter if you'd rather skip!

Kathryn had sent another private message amidst the flurry of the group chat, and its contents made Regina’s stomach fall through her knees once again.

 

Don’t panic, but did you see this?

 

Regina huffed tersely at her friend’s choice of language. How was she meant to not panic now?

 

A twitter link followed the message, and Regina’s pulse spiked as she recognised their informal set captured in the centre of the video. She downloaded a copy of the video for safekeeping, after watching the clip a few times for good measure. And it was not not hot, seeing herself and Emma on the stage, clearly enjoying each others’ company and the performance they had put on. As much as Regina felt the acute discomfort of seeing the marionette of herself on the screen, she enjoyed watching Emma as she danced over her, seemingly unable to look away. Relishing the further confirmation that she had read the situation correctly, and that Emma had been as turned on by their dance as she had, Regina allowed herself to read the comments underneath.

 

She stopped breathing for a moment as she saw the flurry of everything in the comments, finally processing the view count in the corner. 

 

Shit. 

 

500,000 likes, and thousands of comments. A quick scroll revealed that most of them were broadly supportive - fans of Emma’s lusting over their performance and celebrating their chemistry. There were several queer fans who were gushing in the retweets about how Emma's confidence in her sexuality had helped them find their own identities and partners, and how it was good to finally see her finding that happiness. The presumption was strong, and the consensus seemed to be that they had been dating for at least a couple of months, and that Emma had been keeping Regina a secret so no one else would steal her away.

 

It was honestly quite flattering, and Regina felt the weight of the fans’ expectations acutely.

 

But as she read on, horribly compelled and completely unable to look away, she realised that Emma was right to be concerned for her privacy. There were some unsavoury comments - mostly from men - lusting over the pair of them, and betting that they could ‘win’ either or both of them over. Yeah, right.

 

But what really made her blood run cold was a long comment thread that appeared to be searching for Regina’s identity. She couldn't tell their intent from the back-and-forth “internet detectives” going on, whether it was a light-hearted attempt to see who was making their idol so happy, or whether it was more sinister. Either way, the threat of their eventual success completely terrified Regina. She wasn’t fully out yet, and if that video got into the wrong hands - if her mother somehow stumbled across it… Well, Regina didn’t want to think of what the consequences could be. She felt the cold tendrils of dread reach into her chest to choke her as she deliberated with her thumb hovering over the reply button to Kathryn.

 

Thinking of becoming a hermit. What do you think?

 

The only way through this was humour, any other emotion was too raw and too terrifying. 

 

I think it'd be totally understandable if you were freaking out a little. So I'm here if you need to call or if you need some company. I can bring takeout.

 

Regina found herself thanking her lucky stars for the third time that day, this time for the unwavering friendship of her closest coworker and all-round Ms Fix It. She acquiesced to the offer of takeout and a trashy sitcom, and if anything was looking forward to the as-yet-unpopped popcorn.

 

~.~

 

That was until the phone rang again. Now, Emma's phone was switched off, and this ringtone was reserved for one person and one person only. The sound, so specific and foreboding, made her skin crawl with untrained dread. 

 

Best get it over with, she bolstered herself. 

 

“Mother,” she greeted cooly when she heard the faint rustling on the other end which signalled that the call had connected. She knew Cora Mills liked to have the first word, especially where her daughters were concerned, and the small rebellious teenager inside Regina revelled at the minor insubordination. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” She drawled, trying to maintain a mask of unaffectedness which grew more and more fragile with each passing second.

 

“Explain yourself, young lady,” Cora demanded, to the point as ever and with no room for argument. 

 

Shit. 

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Regina hedged, taking a sip of coffee to steady herself. 

 

“I am not in the mood for prevarications. You must have seen this coarse, unrefined video that appeared all over the interweb this morning,” she pressed. There was a sense of urgency to her words. 

 

God knows where she had seen the clip. Her mother wasn’t totally au fait with technology, and Regina found herself hoping it hadn’t made its way onto Fox News. Emma was famous enough that it could have done, as some sort of warning piece about the danger of queer musicians again. It wouldn’t be the first time that they had tried to spread their hate in that manner. But that would mean Emma would face a PR disaster, and Regina’s heart constricted angrily in her chest to think that she may be a source of discomfort for the other woman.

 

Regina breathed heavily, unable to find the words or the will to have this fight with her prejudiced mother. 

 

“I can hear you rolling your eyes in a manner unbefitting of a woman of your status. When will you ever learn?”

 

Bile rose, acrid and strong. It had always been this way whenever her mother was disappointed in her - a recital of a long list of perceived flaws, most of which Regina had little to no control over. She seriously considered hanging up and blocking her, but the rational side of her knew that her livelihood depended on maintaining at least the charade of a civil relationship with her. 

 

“I’m sorry, mother,” she acquiesced, deliberately vague as to what she was apologising for.

 

“Yes, well. Are you going to explain why you participated in such inappropriate acts, and with another woman, no less?" She interrogated, scandalised. "You’re not even gay, I don’t understand why you would do something so unseemly.” Cora Mills spat that word as though it was a curse getting stuck between her teeth, as though it was something dirty, and something Regina should be ashamed of.

 

Yep, she had been right to hide her sexuality until it mattered.  

 

Despite having expected this exact reaction, the rejection still stung fiercely. She had just about unlearned her own internalised homophobia over the last year, the horrible self-disgust that she had inherited from a childhood of propriety lessons that had been forced upon her. And that had taken some doing, but she had truly never been happier in her own skin. She knew that her sexuality wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, that it made her more; more compassionate, more vivacious, more strong. But one word from her mother resurfaced all of the past conversations with herself, and if it weren’t for the lingering feeling of Emma she would be adrift in the noise and swallowed by the lies. 

 

As it was, Regina knew there were two options between which to proceed. The first, to return back into the world of self-denial, and become a shell of herself living to work again. The second, and the only viable option, to be honest with her mother and rip the bandaid and accept that there would be consequences. 

 

She had considered this harsh reality before, and the counterarguments came to her thick and fast. It could all go wrong, but then again, Regina owned her apartment outright. Sure, her mother was connected - and respected - enough with the partners at most leading law firms in the city, but perhaps it was time for a career change. It might not even come to that. 

 

“Regina, my patience is wearing thin. I called you for an explanation and so far I have received only disrespect and silence,” her mother complained. 

 

Regina took a deep breath, steeling herself. 

 

Here goes nothing, she thought.

 

“The video was taken last night, at a lesbian club which I attended with my friends to celebrate the anniversary of my coming out,” she said evenly, pausing for effect. “-as bisexual.”

 

For a stranded moment, Regina felt the full effects of relief at having it out in the open whilst Cora silently processed her words.

 

“So many terms these days and all to say attention seeki-”

 

Regina cut across her mother's insulting nonsense. She had to use the momentum whilst she had it. 

 

“Emma Swan, the other woman, is a famous country singer who happened to be at the bar for karaoke night. She noticed me in the crowd and then asked me to assist her with her performance. And I - an adult with my own free will - decided to join her on stage. It was a private event, and not my fault that somebody filmed and shared it. And to be honest, it was the best night of my life,” Regina doubled down, refusing to let her mother sour the memory. 

 

“Regina Mills,” her mother chastised, upbraiding her with her full name as though she were ten years old all over again and caught sneaking out to the family stables to meet a friend her parents didn’t approve of. “How dare you be so reckless with your family’s reputation, to debase yourself in such a public sphere. I do not know what modern mumbo jumbo has been implanted into your head, but this is totally unacceptable. You were given every opportunity under the sun to make a good life for yourself - to meet a handsome, sensible man and settle down happily with him. And this is how you repay us? With some teenage acting out for attention. I simply will not have it.”

 

Regina rolled her eyes for real at Cora's words. It was either that or tears, and she refused to give her the satisfaction. 

 

“I repeat, I am an adult,” Regina countered, words tight with anger but somehow still even. Willpower was a powerful thing.

 

“Exactly, and such childish flights of fancy should be beneath you,” she doubled down.

 

“It’s not a childish flight of fancy, mother. It’s who I am.”

 

“That is besides the point if your lifestyle impedes upon your ability to do your job,” Cora spat unkindly. “And in this case, ‘who you are’ - as you so passionately decree - is incompatible with not only your job but also your place in this family.”

 

God, her mother was making her choose between her life, her career and family and the undeniable and wonderful sense of knowing and being herself. 

 

Regina had never been more grateful for her pragmatic frugality, and for her legal training. Because she knew she would not be able to say the next words if it would mean the loss of a roof over her head - a loss of her home. And she had made sure the money her parents had gifted her to support in buying her flat had been hers, and that the apartment ownership was no different, and completely watertight. 

 

“If you cannot accept who I am, then perhaps it is for the best to forgo both or either of those things in any case,” she replied, calmer than she felt. 

 

“Regina Mills,” Cora shouted, an echo of her earlier self but this time shocked and appalled. Regina heard the slight crack in the tenor of her voice, and the small part of her that hadn't already shattered at her mother's words clung to the pitiful evidence that she cared about her daughter.

 

But Regina didn’t wait to give her the satisfaction of another knife in her back. The tears she had successfully held at bay threatened to burst forth and through the cracking concrete of her restraint, and she really wanted to be off the phone when that inevitably happened. 

 

“I presume you will want some time to think this over,” Regina offered, removing all emotion from her voice and shooting for a businesslike tone. “But remain assured I am resolute in my position, and shall leave it to you to decide the repercussions for my situation in both the family and the firm.”

 

“Regina,” Cora softened, exasperated but losing some of her fight as it became apparent Regina would continue to defy her no matter how angrily she demanded her to relent. In the gap between her words, Regina held her breath. “Please, be reasonable.”

 

“There is only one reasonable course of action, if you're going to continue demanding that I hide who I am,” Regina replied evenly, maintaining the impersonal tone.

 

“I refuse to allow you to pin this on me when we are discussing your terrible behaviour,” Cora steamrollered.

 

“And I refuse to let you put your shame on me, mother.”

 

It was terrifying, and incredibly freeing, to finally stand up for herself for the first time.

 

Cora scoffed angrily, and Regina saw that she was immovable on this issue.

 

“Talk to Dad, and let me know whether I'm expected in the office on Monday. But I don't want you to call me unless you've decided to accept who I am.”

 

She felt her own hands reach for the end call button, but her fingers felt like foreign objects now the shock was starting to set in. The harsh beep of the call disconnecting lit the fuse on her tears, and she was glad for the comfort of the sofa, cocooning herself once again in the darkness as she allowed herself to feel the unfairness of the situation wash over her.

 

She didn't move until she heard the doorbell ring, and then it was a night in with Kathryn to reassure her that her convictions were the right ones, and that it was her mother to blame for the abrupt termination of their strained relationship. 

 

By the end of the evening, she was starting to feel a lot better - both about the situation with her mother, and with the lingering almost-regret of her night with Emma. Kathryn hadn't done much, in truth, but the gentle presence of her closest friend, and the physical contact as they huddled on the sofa calmed Regina more than she could ever admit out loud.

 

And yeah, she was still gutted that Emma Swan had waltzed out of her life in almost the same moment as she had walked in, but she had set in motion the catalyst for Regina to reclaim her life back, and she couldn't feel anything other than gratitude for that. 

 

~.~

 

Notes:

Sorry for this one, I felt really nervous writing and posting it. But as a queer author - one who took a while understanding but is now proudly and unapologetically myself - this coming of age and coming into self theme has been something I wanted to explore for a while. Hopefully Regina gets enough support it's not too hard to read!

Chapter 12

Notes:

I promised a summary of the last chapter for anyone who didn't want to read Cora being an awful human.

TL;DR, Regina received a text from Kathryn to say that the video of the lapdance and duet went viral. And then she received a call from her (very homophobic) mother, where she finally put in place some boundaries and refused all contact if Cora refused to accept her identity. We left off with Regina uncertain in her position within the family and the family-owned law firm where she's worked for years.

Let's see what happens next, shall we?

Again, the writers block demons came for me with this one, so I wrote another song to get over it, and I liked it enough to include for this one. Thanks for your patience whilst I recorded it before updating here. You can find the song on my Spotify https://open.spotify.com/track/4PgLWk12dNXDiQAjKAeDfo

Regina didn't end up returning to work on the Monday morning, and if anything she was surprised at how indifferent she felt about it. Of course, there had been so much upheaval over the weekend, so it may have been that she was too full of having felt so much that there wasn’t room to process this ending too. Every night she had wasted imagining this scenario over the past year had featured her kicking and screaming her way out of the office, refusing to let it go. After all, so much of her identity had been wrapped up in the law for almost half her life now. Whether with the ‘in-training’ suffix at Harvard, or without it as she had worked herself silly at her parents’ firm for years after, “lawyer” was as much who she was as “woman”. But when she reflected quietly in the stillness of her first Monday morning off in a number of months, she wasn't so sure whether her love for her profession had come of its own volition, or whether she actually felt anything aside from hollow pride at having been good at it. 

 

And if she indulged in her existential wondering to avoid thinking about a certain blonde who she had still not heard from, then so be it. 

 

She had received a number of apologetic messages from her father, a lot of reassurances that he still loved her in spite of the argument with her mother. But there had been such an undercurrent of expectation in every single text, and as much as the family peacekeeper meant well, she refused to shoulder the blame for her mother's bad behaviour. And for all of his declarations, she didn't want any love that came with conditions, masquerading dangerously as the real thing whilst being anything but. So she had denied his ‘generous’ offer to put things right - he had suggested that she return to her charade of straightness, that she give up half of herself in public. She could keep her job if she denounced the videos as some kind of computer-generated nonsense. Instead, with Zelena’s support, she told her parents that they could stick their ‘solution’ where the sun doesn't shine, and pivoted her energy into finding a job which would actually celebrate who she was.

 

It had been a rocky few weeks, but in truth Regina felt happier than she ever had before. Freed from the burden of the world's expectations, and finally completely able to exist for herself - and herself alone - she had found the much less fragile joy of a chosen family that loved her because, not in spite of, who she was.

 

It was fucking liberating.

 

But she did have a lot of time on her hands. As much as she tried to distract herself with research and job applications, and with trying to figure out exactly who she was now she had ripped up the template that had been laid out for her as a child, she couldn’t keep Emma Swan from her mind. 

 

She hadn’t returned to pick up her cell phone, and she hadn’t tried to find Regina’s contact details in any other way, so Regina had to assume that it hadn’t meant anything more than the casual one-night affair that it had been. 

 

The idea still stung, and yet she still couldn’t bring herself to regret any part of it.

 

She had debated the idea of trying to hunt Emma down, of sending her a direct message on instagram, or finding Ruby in the Cubbyhole and asking her to forward her number to Emma’s new phone. But until the tempest of Regina’s personal life calmed to clear waters, she didn’t want to burden Emma with anything more than the already crazy busy lifestyle she had. And that was assuming that Emma would even reply.

 

A small voice in her chest cried the other reason - the real reason. Regina was fucking terrified that reaching out would result in a second, and more absolute, rejection than the last. For now, there was the possibility that it had all been a misunderstanding. But if she somehow got through to Emma Swan, and was met with a harsh reality that she hadn’t felt anything for her… well, Regina wasn’t sure she was strong enough yet to withstand that. Better to sit with the forlorn hope that a miracle would bring them together again and Emma would tell her all the words she most wanted to hear. 

 

But still, she was a glutton for punishment and hadn’t unfollowed any of Emma’s social media accounts. So she had seen that Emma had left for a European tour twenty four hours after leaving her building, and was currently somewhere in Germany. And of course, she was dazzling everywhere she went. Every photo brought back memories of how her hot kisses had felt all over Regina’s body, and turned any hurt into want within moments. Regina was ashamed to admit that it was Emma’s face that came to her when her admiration of tour compilations led to taking care of business alone in her bedroom - more often than she would ever admit out loud. 

 

Of course, Emma had never followed her back - and a small voice reminded Regina that she wouldn’t do so now, even if she sifted through her hundreds of thousands of followers to find Regina. That would escalate the media storm which still hadn’t calmed down. 

 

And more than a few people had correctly identified Regina’s accounts from the video that had made its way everywhere on the internet. Her follow requests and direct messages had been full almost overnight. It had mostly been well-meaning fans asking what it was like to be with Emma, which she had ignored so as not to stoke any untrue claims of what they were to each other. There had been a few of Emma’s fans threatening all manner of horrible things if Regina ever made her unhappy. And there were a few non-fans that threatened some rather unpleasant things regardless of how anything with Emma proceeded or didn’t. Those she blocked and reported, and returned into the comfort of her anonymity in her day-to-day life.

 

Another reason to carry on living as a hermit, Regina thought wryly. 

 

And yeah, though she hadn’t exactly had a jam-packed social life before - so much of her time being swallowed up by work - but she had barely been out in public for the last four weeks. Apart from seeing her friends a few times, her daily gym sessions two blocks down the street, and picking up her groceries from the concierge on the ground floor, her world had condensed predominantly to the four walls of her flat. It wasn’t actually unpleasant, as Regina so seldom allowed herself to rest that she had years worth of paperbacks to make her way through. And page by page, she felt her old self coming back to life, the carefree woman she had been before the stress of college and work and the accident which had changed so much for her. 

 

She had toyed with the idea of taking a month off and disappearing upstate into the mountains, but had reasoned that she needed to be physically present for job interviews. It was just as well, because it had only taken a couple of weeks for them to start coming through. 

 

There were a few smaller law firms which had seen past her mother’s influence to spot the glowing résumé for what it was. She’d even interviewed for two of them. But all of the soul-searching had left Regina wanting to do some good with her skills. She couldn’t go back to defending large corporations who were trying to cover up their wrongdoings. She wanted to make a difference to people who actually needed it. It was incredible how quickly the mirage of a perfect life had dissipated into steam above a desert, and all that was left from her previous life was a coarse, sand-shaped regret sitting in her stomach and screaming of the things she had missed out on. 

 

~.~

 

As the one-month mark since that night rolled round, Regina had finally resolved to put the Emma Swan affair behind her. She had enjoyed four weeks off before accepting an offer from a small firm who worked in family law, and it had renewed her sense of purpose to be working with real people and trying to help them through some of the more difficult spots in their lives. 

 

It had only been a fortnight, but Regina was already getting on well with her new colleagues, attending post-work engagements and leading complex casework. And outside of work, she had stormed her way through her TBR pile and felt stronger than she had in a long time - courtesy of the more regular gym sessions and the time she had carved out of her day to make herself proper dinners rather than relying on takeout most nights. 

 

She was truly happier than she had ever been, and her joy radiated from her like sunlight. And yeah, perhaps her happiness was somewhat nascent, but the instant strength she had gained from standing up for herself with her parents six weeks ago had started to permeate to other aspects of her life. So instead of panicking when she heard an avalanche of notifications on a supposedly regular Tuesday evening, she calmly made her way home to where she'd have the space to pay them mind. Silently praying that it wasn’t an attempt on her parents’ behalf to reconnect, she turned on the screen to face the music. She had received the same instagram link from multiple chats, which couldn’t be good. 

 

She had thought that her five minutes of fame had finally passed. But maybe not.

 

“Kathryn, my dear friend. To what do I owe the pleasure?” She spoke calmly as she accepted the call from her closest confidante ahead of the other missed calls in her inbox. 

 

“So you haven’t seen yet?” She replied cryptically. She didn’t sound concerned, which chased the leaden dread from Regina’s chest. 

 

“Seen what?” Regina responded honestly. 

 

“It’s Emma-” 

 

Regina’s heart dropped. What had happened to Emma?

 

It had taken less than a beat, and her muscles were already engaged in a ruthless attempt to prepare for fight or flight. She couldn’t bear the thought of something terrible happening to Emma, despite the chasm that had opened between them. 

 

Had her plane gone down on the way back to the US?

 

Had an overzealous fan done something terrible to her?

 

Had she done something stupid?

 

Kathryn continued, barely a noticeable pause to her speech, but to Regina the time it had taken her friend to swallow had felt like a lifetime. 

 

So much for putting Emma behind her, then.

 

“You really should check her instagram. Call me if you want to once you’ve seen it,” she finished, still cryptic. 

 

“God, did something happen to her?” Regina asked, impatience winning over her famous good sense.

 

Kathryn could hear the concern in Regina’s voice, an overcurrent to the barely-healed wounds that that woman had left her friend with. Her voice was perhaps softer than usual as she spoke the next. 

 

“Nothing bad, but I think you’ll be interested to hear what she has to say.”

 

“O-kay,” Regina replied sceptically. 

 

None of it made sense, and that had Regina anxiously waiting in the elevator to reach the sanctuary of her home so that she could listen to whatever Emma had to say in private. 

 

~.~

 

And when she opened her instagram, there was a follow request waiting. A fucking follow request from Emma fucking Swan.

 

Regina tried to breathe evenly as her body reacted physically and anxiously towards the notification. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t imagined this happening. And it wasn’t unwelcome. No, Regina had spent many hours over the past six weeks longing for Emma to find her - or at least for her to want to. And of course, there had been mixed feelings beyond the longing, but not accepting the olive branch was not an option. 

 

So after a brief scan of the public profile that had sent the request, both to confirm that it was in fact Emma and also to note that there was one new post on her grid that Regina had not yet seen, she hit accept. 

 

The message in her inbox was succinct, but it rekindled the hope that she had worked so hard to contain into embers over the past six weeks. 

 

Regina Mills. I found you at last. Please watch this. I’m sorry. E x

 

Regina tried to squash down the early tendrils of rage. Six fucking weeks and that’s all she had to say. How dare she. 

 

But then there was that solitary kiss which returned the bumblebees in her stomach from their vacation, and Regina knew she was still a fucking sucker for this marvel of a woman. Ugh. So inconvenient. 

 

But then again, she supposed she did owe Emma the courtesy of watching the video that she had sent, even if she did nothing else with it. And then there was the way that her heart shouted loudly at her that this video - the one she had posted publicly to legions of fans - had been ultimately for her. And that felt kind of special in a terrifying way. 

 

The production quality was immediately evident. It wasn’t one of Emma’s more authentic, goofy clips which aimed to paint her as an ordinary human being to a world that clearly - and correctly - saw her for the extraordinary person that she was. No, this was some kind of official release. The background music was unfamiliar, and Regina knew she would recognise anything that Emma had posted before, so it was either royalty music or -

 

Oh God. 

It was a new single, the riff of the guitars and the swell of the backing vocals signalling the song of the summer that was about to launch Emma further into the charts than she had been before. Regina was certain of it, it was catchier than anything of Emma’s so far - a slight move towards the pop-rock from her country roots.

 

But then the visuals were gay as fuck. So not quite so mainstream as most. But definitely appealing.

 

The actors on the screen danced against a wash of pink, carefully styled outfits cut in modern shapes that accentuated the individuality that was so central to Emma’s own style. Emma herself was present, in glorious close-up as her lips moved around the two lines she sang. And those words echoed in Regina's mind many times after she first heard them sung.

 

Gorgeous, with the beautiful eyes 

I wanna know you the rest of my life

 

Delightful, she's got a smile with a bite

I wanna taste, I wanna die

 

Well, fuck. 

 

What was she meant to do with that? 

 

It could have been written off as a coincidence if Emma had not specifically tracked her down to make her listen to it. But with the message attached, and its direct instruction to watch the video, Regina was unable to downplay the significance of it. Apparently Emma had thought about her too. 

 

But then why had she not reached out before? Regina was exhausted at Emma’s emotional rollercoastering, even though it had only been one night and one message over the course of six weeks. And God, it wasn’t normal to feel this much about someone she barely knew, despite how extraordinary Emma was. 

 

Then she saw it. 

 

The screen had faded almost to black, and there was a date and address attached to it. Regina quickly scanned the caption, to find that Emma was promising a pop-up concert in the park around the corner from Regina’s house, in celebration of the launch of her new single. There was a link to buy tickets, and Regina deliberated with her thumb over it for all of ten seconds. It couldn’t be an accident. Of course Emma was asking her to attend whatever PR stunt this was, and Regina was such a disaster for this woman she knew before she'd even given it a moment that she would be there. She might concede a more modest outfit than the last that Emma had seen her in, and perhaps she might refrain from a front row seat, so that she might see what Emma was about before giving her any ideas. But she would be there, and she was going to make sure Emma knew it. 

 

~.~

“Zee, I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss,” Regina whined, as her sister forced her into the fourth outfit of the afternoon. Five days had passed since Emma’s instagram post, and today was the day that Regina would finally find out what Emma's intent had been with this all.  She had deliberately not replied to her direct message, the small and petulant part of her not wanting to forgive Emma too quickly for the mess of the morning after, or the radio silence since. 

 

“You have to look perfect. She is going to regret the second that she even so much as thought of running away from you,” her sister promised, looking to their assembled friends for confirmation, which was enthusiastically given. 

 

The underlying violence in Zelena’s tone brought to mind her protectiveness when they had spoken through Regina’s broken heart the day after , and she smiled fondly at the recollection. They’d spoken a lot about it in the aftermath, and Regina’s transformation post-separation with her parents had gone a long way to throwing water under the bridge of Zelena’s anger at the blonde singer. Now Regina was on the other side, and so much better because of all that had happened, she could swallow her angst at the thought of her baby sister getting hurt again. And then there was the small, tentative excitement that Regina had been full of when she had told Zelena about the instagram message. There truly was no saying ‘no’ to the endearing hope she had heard there. 

 

As such, the girls had all gathered at Regina’s apartment, supposedly to get ready together before they went to watch Emma’s concert, but all of them had arrived fully dressed and with their make-up already perfectly done. Regina had soon worked out that their role was ‘moral support’ and that they were glad to be there, sipping on frozen margaritas and reviewing every new outfit that Zelena had put her human-sized Barbie doll in. 

 

But Regina wasn’t so certain that the fashion show was necessary. 

 

“I really don’t want to draw attention to-”

 

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Zelena interrupted. “Your absolute wet dream of a woman - the fucking A-list Emma Swan at that - is putting on an entire show right down the street from your house. Everybody there watched the last time that you two shot fireworks at each other, and they’re gasping at the bit to watch you do it again. Of course you’re going to attract attention… well, more than you usually do. And you’re going to suck it up and love it. But most of all, you're going to look as bloody marvellous as you always do.”

 

“But what if I - what if she-” Regina stuttered, unable to articulate herself fully. She took a breath to gather herself. “What if it’s not like that, if she just felt bad and wants my forgiveness?”

 

“I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but beauty is wasted on some people,” Tink groused, taking an extra-large gulp of her margarita and strutting out to refill it.

 

And she had a point, Regina was self-aware enough to recognise that. But the memory of how she had felt the morning after the magical night before lay heavy on her mind, and she couldn’t bring herself to believe that Emma Swan might want her after all. 

 

“Ok, I’ll dress nicely, but I’m going to cover it all with a trench coat, cap and sunglasses first. I don’t want to crash the party unless that’s what Emma had in mind,” she asserted. 

 

“A fair compromise,” Kathryn cut across whatever Zelena had been about to say. Always the peacekeeper, she knew a resolute Regina when she saw one. “How are you feeling, Regina?” She redirected. 

 

“Like I could throw up any second,” she deadpanned. “But I think also… excited, maybe?”

 

“Now that’s more like it,” Zelena chuckled, clapping a palm on her back. 

 

~.~

Chapter 13

Notes:

This is a bit of a longer chapter, but I decided I wanted all of it together in one place, and I make the rules here muahaha.

The link to the song is here for anyone who missed it in the last chapter: https://open.spotify.com/album/5oAm7XM0xUzhoSIy9GB069?si=cly0XBpFQI2lT-gaq1uGpg

In the end, she had settled for a casual yet put-together look that alluded to her sexuality in a much less full-frontal manner than the last time that she had seen Emma Swan in the flesh. Sure, it felt like everything had moved very quickly overnight when she had been outed publicly, but that did not mean that her fashion sense, or her taste had changed at the same pace. So she wore a deep-cut black day dress with a pair of smart leather sneakers and a deep maroon trench coat to match her lipstick and her understated earrings. As promised, she paired the whole look with a pair of oversized sunglasses and an embroidered black cap which said ‘let’s go girls’ in pinks and oranges. The overall effect was something straight off the front page of Vogue, and definitely not as subtle as Regina had intended. 

 

That, paired with the gaggle of friends who were definitely not just out for a walk in the park, and Regina noticed the flash of more than one cell-phone camera aimed their way as they neared the long, long line of fans who were queuing in the spot that Emma had mentioned in her post. She felt more than heard the whispering of speculation following her, and doubt crept into the gaps in her certainty that this had been a good idea. 

 

But she had held her head high amidst a tide of gossiping before, and she would do it again. 

 

They hadn’t been waiting in line above five minutes when a muscular woman wearing all black sauntered over to where they were standing and asked if Regina would follow her.

 

Her pulse spiked, but she retained the good sense to ask for the woman’s credentials. Absolutely no way was she following a much-stronger-than-her stranger into the shadowy spots behind the festival stage which occupied the park for most of the summer. 

 

Security ID provided, and reassurance given that Emma Swan had asked for her, Regina relented - on the condition that her friends could come as well. That had caused some kerfuffle at the security desk, but five access-all-areas passes had been provided from the one that had been laying on the table, and Regina had suggested that the girls find themselves a drink in the VIP area whilst she made contact with their generous host. 

 

She definitely didn't want an audience for this reunion.

 

With a hug from each of them for good luck, a handoff of her anonymity blanket in the form of her outer layers and sunglasses stashed in Kathryn’s tote bag, and a micro pep talk from Zelena - which was far more graphic than it needed to be, of course - Regina was ready to face the music. And there was only 30 minutes to go before the start time on Emma’s post. 

 

She swallowed thickly and allowed herself to be escorted into the outdoor green room.

 

~.~

 

“Holy fuck , you look like something out of a magazine . I didn’t think you’d actually come,” came the first words from Emma’s lips to Regina’s parched ears. Her tone was caught between excitement and disbelief, as though Regina’s presence was the highlight of her life. And her charitable opener left Regina in no doubt that Emma hadn't been lying when she had said she found her attractive all those weeks ago. It was too quick, too unguarded to be anything other than the truth. And it was as intoxicating as it had been six weeks ago. 

 

Instantly, she was undressed by Emma’s gaze. Transported back to an identical stare on a stage in a small room six weeks ago, it was like no time had passed at all. All of the hurt she had felt before had been turned into quiet longing, and Regina couldn’t breathe with the physical force of it now she was close enough to close that gap and taste her again. 

 

“I like your cap,” Emma laughed, breathing some levity into the heavy, hot air between them.

 

Regina’s lips tilted upwards at her words, but she didn’t feel the need to respond directly to that compliment. 

 

“So, I might get in trouble for stating the obvious again, but in what world does anyone not come when you call?” Regina asked incredulously instead, proud of how she managed to hold an even voice when her insides felt like wet tissue paper. 

 

She swallowed, a thickness threatening to make an appearance. 

 

“You didn’t reply - and after I behaved so terribly, I…” Emma trailed off, lost in thought. 

 

Regina didn’t rise to the bait. Emma was going to have to ask nicer if she wanted her forgiveness so soon. Sure, Regina wanted to give it to her, wanted them to both be drowning in it by the end of the day, but if any kind of future between them was ever going to happen on good terms, Emma needed to know that she couldn’t pull that shit again. And perhaps it was slightly mean, but Regina knew she had earned the right to make her squirm a bit first. 

 

“You should have woken me,” Regina hardlined. “I thought we had an understanding, and then you just left , and even worse, you left me without answers.”

 

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Emma said simply. 

 

Regina eyed her stubbornly, refusing to cave quite so easily. 

 

“You really hurt me, Emma,” she uttered brokenly instead, not trying to hide the rawness in her voice.

 

“I know, and I’ve thought about it - regretted it - every single day since,” Emma replied, equally vulnerable and emotive. 

 

“Then why didn’t you fucking say so?” Regina asked, taking a single step towards Emma, restraint crumbling with each second that passed. “Emma, I felt so alone in my want. After all you said that evening, I thought you wanted more too. And then to leave without saying goodbye, to not even attempt to reach out for weeks after. I thought you’d decided I wasn’t enough for you - that one night was enough to chase you away. And sure, you have every right to want something casual, for it to mean nothing , but for you to play it up as something more than that was incredibly cruel. I just don’t understand how you could be so sincere if it was all fake.”

 

The second she had let the accusations start running, it was impossible to stop them. To Emma’s credit, she listened to all Regina had to say, and nodded the acknowledgement of her understanding. 

 

“God, I knew I’d fucked up, but I didn’t know quite how badly. I meant everything I said, I've just been a complete disaster since,” she offered once Reigna had finished. “Tell me, is it redeemable? Because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable with any attempts at an apology unless you actually want to hear them.”

 

Regina’s wild eyes offered Emma the confirmation she had been seeking that her address was not unwelcome. The richness and emotion that Emma found there were a complete juxtaposition of the carefully styled shoulder-length bob and pristine model-looking outfit that told of a woman so put together it hurt to stand next to her with her own boiling pot of emotions. 

 

It wasn't the first time that Emma had felt underdressed in Regina's presence, despite the stage presence which added a few layers to Emma's practiced style. She blushed at the memory, and it made her feel alive again. 

 

“That’s a yes?” she pressed, needing to hear a verbal reassurance. 

 

“That is a yes,” Regina echoed, her posture softening as she gave into the half of her that was fighting for them. 

 

A nervous-looking man rushed over to Emma then, having seen an opening as the pair stepped closer together as they felt the thawing rise between them.

 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he stated firmly. “But you’re due onstage in twenty minutes and tech are complaining that you need to get your earpiece fitted.”

 

Emma rolled her eyes, and grinned roguishly. 

 

“I guess my explanations - of which there are many, but none of which truly forgive my behaviour - will have to wait until we get a drink together after the show?” She spoke confidently, but Regina could see the nervousness in the way she worried her lower lip gently. Her attention firmly stolen, Regina longed to kiss away the nerves. 

 

Get a grip, she warned herself. How was Emma so in her head again already?

 

“Is that so?” Regina asked aloud, flirtation back in her voice now she had let the ugliest of her feelings out and recovered her sense of balance in the process. 

 

“I’d like it to be,” Emma admitted. 

 

“It’s a date, then,” Regina confirmed, unable to keep a broad grin from finding its way onto her face at the prospect. 

 

Regina watched as Emma's entire body language changed at Regina's acquiescence. The nervous energy shifted into a confidence, a certainty, which Regina was sure Emma's set on stage would benefit from.

 

“One more thing before you go,” Regina blurted, placing a gentle hand on Emma’s forearm to stall for another moment. Emma’s eyes snapped to hers in recognition of the arc of feeling that connected them through the innocent touch.

 

“Yeah?” Emma smiled, breathless. 

 

“Just in case you’re barraged by fans later and can’t get away, you ought to have my number so there’s no miscommunication this time?” Regina explained, grimacing around the memory. 

 

“Oh,” Emma exhaled, mirroring the chagrin that Regina felt keenly. 

 

“Here you go, Emma,” Regina croaked, extending the hand which wasn’t in contact with Emma’s skin to pass a cracked but somehow still working cellphone to her counterpart. Regina had charged it, so it turned on when Emma pressed the power button on the side.

 

“Oh my god. You had it all this time?” Emma berated slowly. There was little anger in her voice, but Regina read the pique for what it was. “I was worried all of my secrets were going to be sold to some terrible gossip rag by whatever person found it on the subway.”

 

How had she not thought of that? Regina had been so overwhelmed by the tangible reminder of that night with Emma Swan that she’d done all she could to bury it, without considering Emma’s feelings on the matter. As if she needed any more ways to feel guilty about what had happened. 

 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know how to get it back to you-”

 

She squeezed Emma’s arm in apology, and felt Emma shudder underneath her touch.

 

Fuck. 

 

Emma’s lips parted, and Regina was mesmerised.

 

They stood for an extended moment, both silent and reeling with anticipation. It was worse than last time, now she knew exactly how Emma was capable of making her feel. She had never wanted another person as much as in that moment. 

 

An alarm sounded, giving Emma a fifteen minute warning. She swore in response, and Regina felt sweet breath fanning over her face and making Emma even harder to resist. But then again, the stage manager who had interrupted them before was hovering, ready to pounce and drag Emma forcibly to the stage. 

 

It wasn’t the time. 

 

Regina sighed, and took a step back. She felt the odd gravity around Emma and fought against it to right herself.

 

“You can text me later with a time and place,” she offered instead of capitulating to her desires, gesturing to the phone in Emma’s hands. “Later, I mean… I’d like you to text me whenever you’re ready,” she explained. 

 

Emma beamed, and it was all over for Regina. She was adrift in the heady magnetism of Emma Swan, and there was nothing for it but to allow the tide to pull her into it - into them.

 

“I've really got to go, but please stay and watch the show. It - I - I’d really like to see you in the crowd again,” Emma said nervously, lingering ever closer even as she said the words like one small denial from Regina could shatter their tentative truce. There was a heated moment where Regina had been certain that Emma was finally going to close the distance and kiss her, but she watched as Emma blinked and snapped herself out of it, much to Regina's chagrin.

 

So instead, she watched the entrancing form retreating towards the stage, blonde curls cascading as she put a little extra sway in her hips.

 

“Oh and Emma-” Regina called across to her, feigning indifference with all the practice that years of client work had prepared her for. She sauntered over and placed her cap on Emma's head, tugging it to a cute and jaunty angle. It was a nice alternative to the cowboy hat from last time, and definitely more classy. God, Regina’s thighs clenched at the sight of Emma in her very gay baseball cap. It was so hot. Regina swallowed before speaking. “Break a leg out there, darling.”

 

Emma turned slowly and blinked, trying to reset her brain as she shouldered the weight of what Regina had just said to her. In broad daylight. After a six week drought, she was so back.

 

~.~

 

The passes they had been given granted access to a small cordoned off area to the right of the stage at the front, and Zelena was completely losing her mind at the assorted celebs in there with them. She was trying to play it cool, but it was further clarification that her sister had drawn the attention of someone who was a Big Deal. Her pride for her sister mixed with her excitement at meeting some of her own heroes, and it all had her fighting to reign it in and not take away from her sister’s big moment. They had rushed over, and still there was limited time for Zelena to do any real damage. 

 

As for Regina, she felt the weight of Emma’s talent in the compliment that so many busy and important people had taken time out last minute to come and watch her perform. Recent events had made her more resilient, so she wasn’t quite so intimidated as she once might have been, but it certainly helped that there was one familiar face in the same cordoned-off area who was looking just as out-of-place as Regina felt. 

 

“Ruby-” Regina acknowledged. “Nice to see you in daylight this time.”

 

“Right back atcha, Regina,” Ruby replied, with weight to her words. “She - well, she’s going to kill me for saying it - but I’m pretty sure you know anyway - it’s all for you.”

 

Regina had the good grace to look at the floor as the flattery hit her with a physical force. 

 

“I’m really glad to be here,” she confessed quietly, the “all for you" echoing in her chest and reassuring her that she had done the right thing by choosing to lean into the crazy.

 

It was clear that the music was about to start, and Regina was by no means rude, but when Emma walked out on stage to the roaring swell from the crowd, it became immediately apparent that her interest in talking was over, no matter that she had actually really liked Ruby the first time they had met. As it was. she had eyes for only one person, now she could finally see her in the flesh again.

 

~.~

 

Watching Emma perform for the third time was no less magical than the last. She owned the stage as she always did, with no sign of the nerves that Regina had paid witness to at her last glance.

 

“Hey y’all, thanks for coming out at such short notice,” she opened, with a responding cheer from the field. “I’m thrilled to be here, and to play some songs for you.”

 

Yeah, that’d do it.

 

She started with an acoustic set of some of her earlier songs, and it was mesmerizing. Whilst Emma regularly performed to stadium-sized audiences with full band and production, there was something so captivating in the stripped-back display of raw talent that somehow felt so much more authentic for its simplicity. And Regina could tell that the crowd were thrilled to see Emma - just Emma - rather than a support act to open the show. 

 

She cradled her guitar with infinite care, and perhaps Regina’s vision went a little glazed over as she watched expert fingers move with ease across the strings. She definitely wasn’t going slack-jawed at the reminder of how talented she was with those hands. Not when every muscle was clenched in anticipation. 

 

She had a couple of backing singers and a pianist on stage with her, who all seemed to be having the time of their life. And Regina couldn’t blame them, because she too knew what a unique privilege it was to share the stage with Emma Swan.

 

For the whole half-hour warm-up set, the standing section was a sea of phone cameras, capturing the high-quality sound ready for posting on their socials as soon as they got home. Regina saw more than one facing their way, but she was surrounded by some actual celebrities - who were on Emma’s level, so maybe it was just fans trying to capture their reactions. Still, it was enough to have her fighting to keep her more private admiration in check. 

 

When the last chord was playing on an acoustic version of her breakthrough single, Emma stood to take a bow, passing her guitar to a man dressed head to toe in black, who Regina had seen backstage. 

 

“I hope you enjoyed that trip down memory lane,” she beamed. “I know I sure did.”

 

The audience’s response left no room for doubt. Regina wanted to run up on stage and kiss Emma’s ridiculously talented mouth with no caution for the consequences, but she settled for loud and enthusiastic clapping that she hoped Emma would see. 

 

~.~

 

After a half hour break for Emma to gear up for the set with the whole band - and for the crowd to spend a good amount of money on the beverage stalls either side of the stage - the riff, the one from the instagram post, announced Emma’s return. 

 

The crowd completely lost it, and Regina saw a sea of cell phones poised to capture the moment. 

 

She heard the opening lines, the ones that had played richly through her phone speakers more than once over the course of the last week. 

 

Running onto the stage, Emma shouted the count in, and the band joined in with wild enthusiasm. It was infectious, and Regina felt the energy shift as people started dancing.

 

Gorgeous, with the beautiful eyes 

I wanna know you the rest of my life

 

Delightful, she's got a smile with a bite

I wanna taste I wanna die

 

There was an extended instrumental solo, building to the pre-chorus, and Emma’s movements were captivating as she wound the crowd higher and higher. 

 

Never felt so electric

Felt so defenseless

Felt a hot mess with all that I am

 

Never felt an anchoring 

Settle in my skin 

I've never felt this, you're where I began

 

And yeah, it wasn’t unflattering. There was no avoiding the fact that Emma had put pen to paper about their magical night together, and to hear something so polished and at the same time feral, well… Regina squirmed a bit at the attention. 

 

And if Emma was claiming a hot mess, Regina felt herself becoming closer to a hot soup with every line. Her insides were melting with affection and arousal, and Emma was doing nothing to help with either of those things as she sent a burning glance towards the VIP section and shook every part of herself in time with the beat. 

 

The chorus came, and Regina knew she was done for.

 

I wanna lose my whole self in you

Go to hell for you like I'm Orpheus 

I wanna do anything you choose 

I will light myself like a fuse for us

Just say you feel the same

I'll taste, I'll take the blame

 

Emma made a show of licking her lips provocatively in theme with the words, and the crowd roared their approval. Regina could see the movement as the crowd danced along to the upbeat number, and she knew Emma was seeing the same enthusiasm for her words and music. The shared nature of their onlooking was not lost on Regina, and it felt like some kind of out-of-body experience. 

 

Rather than overthink things, she allowed herself to dance along as the second half of the song played. 

 

At the end of the song, as the band played an extended bridge, Emma made her way along the fans who had queued up early to get to the barrier. The music repeated, getting more and more stripped back with each passing until it was just a drumbeat and the army of backing singers. It was simple enough that the entire crowd were happily shout-singing along by the end. Emma herself sang whilst allowing fans to take photos, to hold her hands and to gift her the flags and notes they had made for her. 

 

Some folks, they go, 

Their whole life, they never know

Someone quite like you 

(quite like you, quite like you)

 

By the time she made it to the VIP area, just near the artist entrance to the stage, the song was very much in its final moments. 

 

Regina was hard to miss on an ordinary occasion, stunningly put together as she was, and this was by no means an ordinary occasion. Emma stumbled slightly as she walked along the grass towards her, not looking at her feet and fighting to continue singing when it felt like the sight of Regina knocked the wind out of her. She was smiling - beaming even - and clearly enjoying the flirtatious song that had been so transparently written about her. 

 

And ok, perhaps Regina wasn’t ready to go public with their tentative truce just yet, but every single part of her wanted to snog Emma’s face off. She resisted, just about, but hauled Emma into a crushing hug and shouted her enthusiasm into her ear. 

 

“I fucking love it, Emma,” she applauded. “Thank you.”

 

Emma leaned back to capture her gaze, adrenaline and excitement giving her eyes a slightly crazed look as she took the hat from her head and placed it back on its owner. She smirked cheekily as she digested quite how hot and gay Regina looked in that moment. 

 

Silent communication back, Regina understood that Emma didn’t want the moment to end, but that any longer would set the internet detectives into a spiral, seeing things that they themselves weren’t even sure about yet. So Emma took one step to the right and hugged Ruby with equal fervour, placing a friendly kiss on her temple and thanking her for being there.

 

Regina’s fondness was captured by more than one camera, before she was able to return to a mask of practiced indifference. But underneath it, the floaty feeling was back. 

 

~.~

 

As the end of the gig rolled around, Regina heard the soft opener to that song , the one that had been held in her heart for the past six weeks as their song. A messy array of musical instruments overlapping in a perfectly designed chaos gave Emma the time that she needed to introduce the song, and she did so with a deliberate and inescapable look towards the VIP area.

 

“I’d like to dedicate this song to a friend of mine, who has done me the very great honour today of allowing me to call her that again after I fucked up royally with her. If you came with someone who you love, now’s the time to let them know - especially all of you girls, gays, theys who don’t say it often enough.”

 

Regina met her searing gaze, feeling overwhelmed but thrilled at the public declaration of wrongdoing and affection, and mouthed “thank you” wide enough that there was a small hope of Emma seeing it despite being a stage away from her.

 

It was surreal, being transported back to singing in a dive bar in front of a few hundred people whilst Emma put on a fabulous show for the much larger crowd amassed in the park. She’d been performing long enough that the summer sun was finally descending towards the horizon and bathing the whole crowd in a glorious golden light. Regina was glowing with both the burnt umber of the sunset and the inner warmth of Emma’s attention. 

 

She’d had mixed feelings about this song during the past six weeks, and despite it having such a heavy weight for her, she’d refused to listen to it, resolutely hitting ‘skip’ the second that she heard the introductory notes for fear that she’d accidentally allow tears to form if she listened any longer. But hearing it now, it was like an old friend returning from a long trip away. There was comfort in the familiar, and in Emma’s rich and marvellous voice traversing the speakers and the hot, still heat of the summer afternoon to reach her ears. 

 

Regina was at a loss. 

 

Emma Swan was just too fucking perfect, and it felt dangerous to give her any kind of control over Regina’s life again. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to recover if it went badly a second time. But held in the glorious summer evening, she allowed herself to shelve the not inconsiderable doubts and return to the present, where Emma’s perfect lyrics were covering Regina with their heat. 

 

And when Emma finished the song, breathless from both the exertion of the gig and the memory of singing this exact song with the woman of her dreams, the crowd could hear the exhilaration in her voice as she closed the show. 

 

She took a bow, throwing a handful of plectrums and pre-signed setlists into the crowd as she often did with one cowboy hat or another at the end of a show, and waved to the crowd. And yeah, if she saved the VIP area for last, savouring eye contact with a certain magnetic brunette before running to the safety of the green room, she would not deny it. 

 

There was very little that she would deny when it came to Regina Mills.

 

~.~

Chapter 14

Notes:

Thanks for indulging my songwriting folks, now here's the stuff you probably came for. Enjoy :)

In the aftermath of the show, Regina had somehow managed to extricate herself from Ruby and the other members of their cordoned-off area and found her way backstage to congratulate Emma in person.

 

She found the blonde extended across a comfortable-looking sofa in the green room, sipping from a cold coca cola with a cool towel forming a makeshift bandana around her head. There was a fizzling energy around her, a radiating shell of pure static that set Regina’s hairs on end. She couldn’t determine whether it was the residual energy of a firecracker show like the one she had just put on, or whether it was the completely unexplainable feeling that had crackled into existence every time they had been together so far. 

 

Emma had her eyes closed, holding the coke can to her neck in an effort to cool down, and it was so effortlessly erotic that Regina had to swallow before she announced her presence. 

 

“That was-” she began, trying to find the words for the indescribable pleasure that came with watching Emma in her element, and with seeing her stretched out like this now.

 

“Re-gi-na,” Emma breathed in recognition and then greeting, a rich smile filling the soft tenor of her voice. It sent a physical reaction through Regina’s torso, and she cleared her throat against the feeling. When Emma opened her eyes, there was such a sparkle hidden in her steady green irises that Regina wanted to join her on the horizontal. She pushed down the desire for the time being, reasoning that now was not the time or the place. 

 

“Do you have any idea how talented you are, Emma Swan?” Regina enthused. It was a stupid question, really. Emma was far too successful to not know the gift that she possessed. But it was only Regina’s third time seeing her on a stage, and it was just as powerful as the last - perhaps more so, now a small part of Emma felt like she could one day be hers . 

 

“Maybe,” Emma acknowledged, delighted with the compliment, especially from its perfect source. “I think I’d enjoy hearing you elaborate, though,” she added cheekily.

 

“I’d worry about inflating your ego, I’m afraid,” Regina teased back, glad they had returned to the lighthearted nature of their first evening again. It felt like slipping back into a favourite pair of slipper socks for all the familiarity and warmth of the interaction. “But I have to admit, I’m glad I got to see you in front of such a large crowd. You really deserve it.”

 

Emma grinned, delighted. 

 

“It was all for you,” she breathed unsteadily. “Fuck, it was all for you.”

 

And that was - oh - she didn’t - God - it was so direct, so delightful. Regina capitulated to her suddenly unsteady legs and moved to sit next to Emma on the couch. The blonde placed a reassuring hand on her upper thigh, and Regina’s entire world condensed to the point. It was heat, heady and unavoidable, that rooted her to the spot - to the moment . 

 

She didn’t have the words to respond, and Emma was within touching distance, so she followed her subconscious and leaned in to reply non-verbally. 

 

It had been six long and uncomfortable weeks since Regina had felt Emma Swan’s lips moving against hers, and in some ways it felt like she was a completely different person now than she had been then. Emma, on the other hand, was completely unchanged. Still assertive and sure of herself, outrageously gorgeous and blissfully skilled at using her mouth to create perfect music. The way she pulled a cacophony of moans and whimpers from Regina’s lips was testament to the fact, and Regina felt exactly the same as she had last time. She lost all semblance of control and propriety as she found herself in the heady feeling of kissing Emma Swan once again. 

 

Without thought for where they were, or who could stumble upon them in the VIP tent, Regina soon found herself sprawled across Emma’s lithe form, an armrest digging into her forearms as she tangled one hand in Emma’s long locks, and the other in the soft flannel of Emma’s intentionally distressed shirt. 

 

And if they had reverted to teenagehood again, Regina couldn’t even find it in herself to be embarrassed. It just felt too good to finally be kissing Emma again, and to know that she wanted it just as much as Regina did. 

 

They didn’t speak for a number of minutes, lost in the sensation of moving against each other. But it was Regina who finally broke away, panting and trying to be sensible. 

 

“Hot - Holy - Shit, Emma,” she panted, placing her forehead against Emma’s as she struggled to breathe. Feeling warm, strong muscles against her thighs made it somewhat difficult, but they had already seen what recklessness afforded them, and Regina wanted to at least try to get to know Emma before they went there again.

 

Emma just chuckled, and Regina felt warm breath distracting her again. She could still taste the sweetness of Emma’s tongue, and it took almost all of her willpower to pull herself to a seating position. 

 

“I’m glad to see that distance hasn’t dampened - ah - that,” Regina remarked somewhat indelicately. It was hard to focus on words with Emma so close once more. 

 

Emma laughed again, louder this time, and Regina blushed to think that someone might have overheard their back-and-forth. 

 

“I don’t think anything would dampen that, as you so eloquently put it,” Emma replied. “In fact, for the record, I have thought about that every single fucking day since it last happened.”

 

And there it was, the confirmation that Regina had craved in Emma’s absence, and fuck if it didn’t make her feel hot as hell. 

 

But Regina felt the danger that she was in; on a knife’s edge of giving into her desires once again. But she really wanted to get to know Emma - to road test if this could be more than their off-the-charts, crazy, stupid physical attraction for each other. Because Regina’s heart was more fragile than she would ever admit, and it would not withstand Emma toying with her again, whether intentionally or not.

 

Still, she needed Emma to know that the pining had been mutual. 

 

“Yeah,” she admitted quietly, wistfully. “You are pretty unforgettable, too.”

 

Emma kissed her softly, moaning at the admission, and Regina had to consciously hold herself back again. 

 

“Do you think we could maybe actually do that ‘getting to know each other’ thing before we try that out again, though?” Regina asked tentatively. 

 

Emma paused, teasing, pretending to chew over the options in front of her. 

 

Regina took the extended silence as uncertainty, despite Emma’s relaxed body language. 

 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I really want to try that out again,” Regina rambled, unable to stop herself. “But I definitely can’t do that if it’s just casual to you.” 

 

Her voice trailed off as her words became more and more vulnerable, but she was resolute in what she needed. The recent memory of setting boundaries with her parents was forefront in her mind, and she knew she needed to be direct with Emma. The absolute last thing she needed was something drawn out and messy, especially with someone so devastating as Emma. Regina had finally, finally decided to start living for herself, and not even Emma Swan was worth throwing that away for. 

 

Emma squeezed her shoulders, a hug of sorts, and the innocence of the action settled Regina’s doubts somewhat. 

 

“I don’t want casual, Regina,” Emma assured her. “I want it all.”

 

And - oh - 

 

“I want all to be an option, at least,” Emma hedged, downplaying her conviction for fear of scaring Regina away. “And yes, getting to know each other feels like a good place to start.”

 

“Well, then,” Regina swallowed thickly. It was a heady thing to be wanted by Emma Swan, of all people. “I should let you get back to your adoring fans for the time being. But I’ll be waiting at Aesop’s-”

 

At Emma's confused look, she elaborated. 

 

“-you know, that cocktail bar I suggested last time? It’s still on the phone you left at mine, but I’ll send you the location again just in case,” she offered. 

 

“Ah,” Emma replied, recognition and mischief hitting her perfect features. “The one right next to your perfect apartment?” She clarified. 

 

“That's right… Just in case you’re recognised and need a private escape - of course,” she teased. 

 

And yeah, the way that Emma’s jaw slackened at Regina’s unveiled suggestion… Well, it had Regina hoping that perhaps Emma would be recognised so that she’d have an excuse to eschew all restraint and invite Emma upstairs for a repeat of the best night of her life. 

 

“Regina,” Emma surrendered reluctantly, tracing her full lips across Regina’s jaw in an attempt to distract the pair of them from the duty that Emma had to all of the rest of her fanbase. Emma breathed in and out, and Regina felt the hairs on her neck stand on end in response. “You’re fucking killing me.”

 

It was Regina's turn for a dry laugh, expelled from her rhythmically as Emma tried to retain what little control she had beneath her. 

 

“The only deaths I have planned for you are little ones, and those will have to wait for much later,” Regina murmured in a low tone. 

 

Emma moaned, louder than the last, and Regina felt her own thighs searching for friction against the deliciously toned ones between her and the sofa. 

 

It was a dangerous line they were dancing, and Regina felt the urgency of returning to her friends before she did something that might get Emma into trouble with her management. 

 

“In any case, you’ll have to be patient for that, Emma dear,” she warned. 

 

Emma moaned once more, but she could see the sense in Regina’s words, and conceded with a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. 

 

“I’m going to leave you now,” Regina promised. “But I am already very much looking forward to seeing you later.”

 

Emma smiled, and it felt like Regina's entire world was re-collapsed to the two of them.

 

“Me fucking too,” Emma assured her, catching Regina’s gaze once more as she followed Regina's movement out of the tent and back to her friends.

 

~.~

 

Somehow, Regina had made it through post-drinks and snacks with the girls. They had all come back to hers, because it was the closest to the show, and because they all refused to go home until Regina caught them all up on the Emma situation. It was well meaning - if a little invasive - but ultimately better than killing time before Emma was ready for drinks by sitting alone and micro-analysing every interaction that they had ever had.

 

Besides, Regina was left in no doubt of their mutual attraction, and the fact she was almost certainly getting a repeat of the mind-blowing orgasms from the last time that she had slept with Emma Swan. If nothing else, that was sufficient to stoke her appetite. 

 

The frozen margaritas had returned, and her friends consumed them all the more voraciously for the late hour. It was one of those rare summer evenings where every moment felt like a jewel of a time, precious and lasting, as though she would be returning into the memory for a long while to come. 

 

But eventually Emma did message her, albeit around eleven thirty. It was understandable, she finally had an evening on her home turf after over a month of touring. Regina was sure that Ruby would have commanded some time, perhaps for a similar pep talk to the one she was getting from her sister and their friends. If anything, the sacrifice of any of Emma's evening to Regina was a high compliment indeed. So even though it was expected, the notification buzzing in her pocket sent the girls into overdrive . The squealing was almost too much. 

 

“Sorry to turf you all out, but I’ve got a date to attend,” Regina announced, giddy with happiness to finally, finally, be able to say that again. 

 

“There is no need to apologise,” Zelena cheered, rallying the troops to head on out to a venue which was not the cocktail bar where Regina would be meeting Emma once again. She had promised after one stern look from her sometimes intimidating younger sister.

 

“Knock her dead, Regina,” Kathryn echoed her friend’s sentiment. “But please, for the love of god and all that’s holy, make sure she has your contact details this time.”

 

There was a round of laughter from her assembled friends, and Regina heard the truth of Kathryn’s words. Sure, whatever followed for them was bound to be complicated - Regina was a high-powered lawyer with a duty to her clients and her firm, and Emma was fast approaching global super-stardom, but Regina was determined that a communication error would not be responsible for any misunderstandings. 

 

~.~

Notes:

And not to worry, raking-over-the-coals coming to a chapter near you soon!

Chapter 15

Notes:

Another slightly longer chapter, which will hopefully give you some closure!

We're very much getting towards the end, gang. Thanks for sticking with me.

Fortunately for Regina, the vibrating in her pocket reassured her that Emma very much had her contact details this time, a fact which was reaffirmed in the message that she was ‘on her way.’

 

Regina strolled through to her en-suite after letting the rabble out through her front door. Once there, she quickly brushed her teeth, touched up her makeup and sprayed a heavy dose of perfume. She scanned her body in the floor length mirror that hung in the hallway and, happy that Emma would be satisfied with her appearance, she shrugged off any lingering trepidation. 

 

Emma was waiting for her when she arrived at the bar, and she appeared to be slightly uncomfortable, engaged in talking to a lean gentleman. Regina watched as Emma drew something with a flourish on his forearm, and decided that was her moment to cut in.

 

“Emma, darling,” she cried, laying it on thick for the benefit of the interloper. “I'm sorry to have kept you waiting.”

 

Her tone was deliberately low and flirtatious, and she could tell that Emma had noticed. There was a sharp flash in her eyes, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

 

The man noticed too, suddenly sitting straighter and migrating away from Emma's person.

 

“Sorry, er… Killian, was it?” Emma winced. “It was lovely to meet you, and good luck with getting that inked.” 

 

She gestured to the shape on his arm, which Regina could now make out as a cowboy hat. It was surprisingly clear and artistic, and matched an array of many other tattoos covering his sleeve. 

 

Emma's words were a clear dismissal, and one that the man honoured after looking twice between the pair of them and sensing the mutual tension on the air. 

 

Once he was gone, Emma's entire demeanour softened. It was as though she were taking off a set of grimy work clothes at the end of a long day, and Regina was thrilled to see the butterfly coming out of her chrysalis. She had long since fallen under real Emma's enchantments. She was so much warmer, more youthful when she was being herself. It made Regina swoon a little. 

 

As if she hadn't swooned at the very sight of her.

 

Regina won the battle of remembering they were in a public place, and as such she pressed a chaste but lingering kiss to Emma's cheek as she squeezed the forearm that Emma had draped across the back of the bench seat. 

 

“Mmmhmm,” Regina murmured, somewhere adjacent to a moan. “It's nice to see you again so soon.”

 

“Nice doesn't cover it,” Emma challenged directly from her position with a front row seat to Regina’s cleavage, what with how she was leaning over and still wearing that sinful dress. Regina chuckled, which didn't exactly help Emma's predicament because her whole chest moved with the feeling of the motion.

 

“Can I buy you a drink?” Regina asked, leaning back so she could capture Emma's eyes. It took perhaps three beats longer than was polite before Emma's eyes reluctantly migrated to Regina's face. Caught red handed, she smirked defiantly and tried to remember what the question had been so that she might reply with something witty. 

 

“I was going to bring some flowers, but I wasn't sure if you'd want the attention with an audience,” Regina explained when Emma was still silent but at least looking her in the eyes. “So it's the least I can do. An IPA perhaps?” 

 

“You remembered?” Emma asked, incredulously. It had been six weeks since Regina had last seen her drink anything, and she felt warmth suffuse her as she realised that Regina had saved the small details of their interactions. 

 

“Of course I remembered,” Regina reassured her. She remembered every single thing about this marvel of a woman. But that would probably get her in trouble if she shared too soon. “I'll be right back,” she promised, and added a sway to her hips as she migrated her way to the bar. 

 

With a negroni and a pint glass in hand, Regina masterfully settled herself at Emma's side before holding her own glass for Emma to toast. 

 

“Ok,” Emma started before swallowing a large gulp to buy some time. “I am very much looking forward to a lighthearted date, to spending some time over the coming weeks and months getting to know you and having some fun together…” 

 

Regina's heart soared at the thought, and despite her usual pessimism, she didn't even try to squash it down for once.

 

“-but I owe you an explanation and an apology, and I'd love it if you could hear me out,” she finished solemnly, begging with her eyes.

 

Regina made sure to hold the heavy eye contact as she placed an intentional hand on Emma's thigh. It felt good to be anchored together, especially for the difficult conversation Emma had embarked upon. She nodded, signalling her respect for Emma's wishes, and readying herself for Emma's side of the story.

 

“I've thought about you every day since I last saw you, and I came so close to reaching out every single fucking time,” she opened. 

 

Pretty words, and Regina could hear the truth in them.

 

“When I woke up the - uh - the morning after that incredible night, I found a barrage of unpleasantness waiting for me on my cell phone. I don't know how much of that you saw, but I can only apologize if you opened any of those notifications-”

 

“I didn't, I - your messages are private, Emma. It wasn't - it isn't - my place to go digging,” she interrupted. She couldn't have Emma lingering under false pretences, or worrying that Regina was the creepy kind of fan she had promised that she wasn't. 

 

“Oh,” Emma breathed, smiling at Regina as though she had given her some kind of a precious gift by being a decent human being. 

 

“Sorry, I wasn't meant to interrupt,” Regina apologised. She placed a finger on her own lips to remind herself not to cut in again. Emma's eyes followed her movement like a magnet, and it made Regina feel hot hot hot.

 

Emma laughed softly, eyes sparkling at her playfulness.

 

“Well, I'm glad you didn't have to read all of that,” she admitted. “I know people who have it way worse, and my management are usually great. But they were livid with my actions that night. They've been successfully selling me as flirtatious but not explicit, toeing the line of family friendly, and I'm usually pretty good at remembering. It's been a long time since I've had the temptation for anything else. But God, I got so carried away.”

 

The honesty was astounding, and Regina found her heart lurching for Emma, living her life for other people with her actions policed even when she was off the clock. And yeah, Regina had firsthand experience of how limiting that felt. Until recently, it had been her life too. 

 

“Anyway, I woke up happier than I've ever been. You were - are - perfect, especially in the morning. But when I saw the barrage of messages from my manager I knew I had to meet them for damage control.”

 

She winced as she said the last, as if it were painful to tarnish that memory with any kind of negative connotation.

 

“I guess you know the rest, I met them round the corner and they read me the riot act. Somehow I let them persuade me to focus on the tour and avoid trying to seek you out whilst the noise calmed down. And I mean, I got on a flight the very next day to Europe, so I wasn't really in a place to be anything to you. I convinced myself it'd be easier to not talk than to talk and not be able to do anything about it.”

 

Regina bit her tongue, wanting to honour her promise to not interrupt, and not wanting to tell Emma how stupid that particular assessment was. Regina would be pleasantly filled with the scraps of any conversation Emma could give her. But she swallowed it down and squeezed Emma's arm encouragingly. In reality, she had forgiven Emma the second she had reached out, and she was already ready to move forwards. She waited, certain that it was important to Emma - for both of them - that Emma's apology was full and sincere. However she got the words out, she needed to ensure Regina that she wouldn't be dropped unceremoniously again.

 

Emma took a deep breath before continuing.

 

“But I meant what I said earlier. I thought about you every single fucking day. I came so close to ignoring the PR folks and asking Ruby to track down your number again just so I could hear your voice. I managed to call your work after a quick search, but they said you’d moved on?” There was a question in her voice, like Emma hadn’t been sure whether Regina’s PA had lied to her so Regina wouldn’t have to face her, but she didn’t leave a breath for Regina to answer.

 

“I thought about coming here - or to your apartment, leaving a note in your letterbox or something.” She took a deep breath, feeling herself getting carried away. “I've never felt so strongly about anything before. And then, as the weeks went by, I got even more scared to try and find you. Every night, at every show, there were reminders of what could have been. Pretty much as soon as anyone asked for an autograph, they asked about you. And I wanted to have something to tell them, but it felt like too much. Even when I came back home a couple of weeks ago, I know I should have come round and talked to you right away. But I knew I really fucked up. I was so in my head about you, and I was so nervous that you'd hate me. So I resorted to grand gestures.”

 

Emma paused, worrying her lower lip as she debated continuing. 

 

“Hence the concert, and the single,” she offered in further explanation. “I hope that wasn’t too much?”

 

“No, it was - fuck - Emma it was incredible. You are incredible,” Regina rushed to reassure her. 

 

“Well, there’s actually one more song I recorded. But I wanted it to be just yours,” she hedged. 

 

Regina smiled, and Emma knew she was a terrible person for ever stealing that expression from her face even once. 

 

“I don’t have my headphones, but maybe I can play it for you next time we’re alone together,” she offered tentatively.

 

Regina got caught on alone together and it took her a moment to regain her thoughts. Emma watched, curious and terrified as Regina apparently deliberated her verdict. She sounded wrung out, with so much tension in her voice she could barely get her words out. And Regina felt her discomfort in her own gut. There was little she wanted more than to ease it all, and what little resolve she had thought she had crumbled with one slight tremble of Emma's lips.

 

“I'd like that very much,” she replied in a small voice. “And I'd say the grand gestures have been pretty successful, don't you think?” She offered.

 

Emma's answering laugh was shaky, small bits of tension escaping with each outward breath. She nodded, and Regina smiled tentatively at her. 

 

“I am grateful for you explaining it from your side,” Regina began, now it was finally her turn to talk. “I'll admit, part of me was - is still - worried that because of your lifestyle, something like this could happen again. Not because of you, but out of necessity. I still worry what would happen if something went wrong-”

 

Emma started to protest, but Regina migrated her finger over Emma's own lips, and all of a sudden talking was the farthest thing from Emma's mind. 

 

“But I guess you're here now,” she reasoned, fighting to keep herself in the moment and away from the dangerous spiralling around the future which threatened to undo her. “So either you've got your management on board, or you've decided that your feelings and actions are more important to you than their expectations?”

 

“It's both,” Emma mouthed, and Regina felt the warm air on her outstretched finger. She felt the warmth travelling down her body and collecting in her lower stomach, and God it was embarrassing how little it was going to take to fall back upstairs with Emma all over again.

 

“That's reassuring,” Regina encouraged.

 

“Well. You are important,” Emma replied, mimicking her tone.

 

Regina took a sobering sip of Negroni.

 

“Emma, I felt guilty too. I still do, if I'm honest,” she admitted. It was important she got her closure too, now she had charitably granted Emma hers. “Had I known how you felt, I would have swallowed my pride and reached out, I would have tried to get your phone back to you sooner. It’s just - ah-”

 

And just like that, Regina was choking on empty breath again. How was it that Emma was able to reduce her to rubble within an instant of a breeze from her lips?

 

Emma waited, feigning patience with a body that rebelled at the very idea of hesitating. Having been granted Regina’s forgiveness, there was little that she wanted more than to receive everything else that Regina could bestow upon her. 

 

Regina tried again, and after a few false starts, managed to update Emma on the past six weeks, turbulent as they had been. She explained everything that had happened with her parents and her work situation concisely, minimising the emotional turmoil as much as she could. 

 

“Jesus, fuck. Regina,” Emma cursed apologetically when she heard of the conversation with Regina's parents. And yeah, Regina was glad that she hadn’t pushed anything with Emma whilst she had been processing that grief. Sure, the loss of the relationship with her parents had hit her with less of a sledgehammer force than the loss of him to that awful motorcycle accident, but it had still hurt . After the accident, she had been so unsure of herself, and had lost an entire future. And in the case of her parents, as she explained to Emma, there was no future on the line. She didn’t cherish the idea of decades’ more pretending, so whilst it had been painful - still was painful , the idea of losing Emma - well, the possibility of her - had a lot more weight.

 

Emma had smiled at that admission. 

 

“Yeah, I don’t want to downplay it, but I’ve been through worse,” Regina explained, matter of fact. She wasn’t searching for pity, and especially not from Emma. No, pity was the last thing she wanted from her. “I can’t say I didn’t see it coming. And it’s opened up so many other doors, so as much as I wish they had been accepting and respectful, I don’t regret it one bit.”

 

“I would have keyed their car if I’d have been able,” Emma threatened playfully. “Who fucking does that?” 

 

Regina hmmed her agreement, unable to agree too directly. They had been terrible in a time where she really needed them not to be, but they were still her parents. 

 

“I’m of the opinion that if there’s any reason why you wouldn’t love and support your kid, you shouldn’t even think about having them in the first place,” Emma stormed, muscles contracting with the force of her conviction. 

 

It wasn’t not hot. 

 

“Yes, well. I guess they didn’t factor in that I might be bisexual when they were doing their family planning,” Regina mused sadly. 

 

“I had a real mixed bag of foster parents, and it meant I came out in very different ways and very different times,” Emma replied frankly. And there it was again, Emma’s ability to make Regina feel so seen, so understood. It would be unsettling if it weren’t so comforting and reciprocal. And if Emma hadn’t placed a soft hand over her own, resting as it was on the cool table in front of them. 

 

Emma wasn’t secretive about her history, and Regina knew there were lots of versions of this story on the internet, but she watched entranced as the words came from Emma’s animated lips. 

 

“I think that’s where I get it from,” Emma explained clumsily. “My strong views on parenting, and what kind of parent I would want to be-”

 

She stopped short, glancing directly at Regina’s eyes and then dropping her gaze shyly to the table again. 

 

So they were doing this.

 

“Was that accidental, or was that you asking if I want to be a parent at some point?” Regina asked directly, giving Emma the choice. 

 

“It was accidental, but I think it’s good to know those things sooner than later,” Emma blushed. And maybe it was a bit on the nose for the short time that they had known each other, but Regina was on the same page about where she wanted this to go, and it felt good that Emma was already going there. Even if it made her skin crawl with the commitment of it all. 

 

“I do,” Regina added. “Not soon, but I’ve always wanted to be a mother.”

“Good,” Emma replied. “That’s really good. I mean - yeah - I’m definitely not in a place to do that anytime soon-” she laughed, eyes sparkling again. “But later, I want to.”

 

“Good,” Regina echoed her, a smirk coming easily to her lips. “So we’ve established that my parents have been a bit shitty, but so you know - my sister is a big fan.”

 

Emma squeezed Regina’s hand in recognition of all that she had shared, and smiled in appreciation for the motion towards levity.

 

“Of my music?” Emma asked. “She took you to see a gig a long while back, right?”

 

She had remembered. Regina swallowed that, savoured it even. 

 

“I actually meant, she’s a big fan of the idea of this-” she explained as she gestured between the pair of them with a flourish, “-of us, I mean.”

 

“Oh,” Emma breathed, and then repeated it once more with understanding. 

 

And it’s not as though they had been dancing indirectly around the idea of that. Regina had mentioned it directly more than once, and there was a strong understanding that they both wanted to explore whether this could become something serious. But hearing Regina say “us” in her sweet, honeyed voice, smiling around the single syllable. Well, Emma wanted to kiss that smile from her lips.

 

Regina felt the air change as Emma’s eyes undressed her hotly. 

 

“She - uh - she thinks I could do with letting loose a bit more often,” Regina admitted. “And that you - well - that you’re good at loosening me.”

 

The suggestion in her words and her tone was heavy, and Emma couldn’t resist teasing her in response.

 

“So she thinks I’m a bad influence?” She chuckled. 

 

“I’m pretty sure she’d call it a good influence,” Regina breathed, inching closer until their bodies were flush against each other on the plush green bench seating. “But yeah, I-” she trailed off, frustrated at herself for not being able to declare directly what she wanted.

 

“Are you done talking?” Emma asked breathlessly. “Because fuck I want to influence you so badly right now. I’ll thank you for trusting me with all that later.”

 

Regina mimed zipping her lips closed, and once again Emma’s eyes shot to her, hooked on the motion. She reached out with a steady hand to pull Regina’s fingers from her lips, entwining their fingers against the seat and pulling Regina’s face to her own with a low rumble in her chest.

 

It had only been a few hours, but it still felt like the first time all over again. 

 

Regina’s hand tightened around Emma’s fingers, just as her lips closed around Emma’s, the delicious pressure of both hands and lips stealing Emma’s breath entirely. Her spare hand found its way to the back of Emma’s neck, massaging the tension all but entirely from her frame, and causing her to moan into Regina’s open mouth.

 

And yeah, maybe it was for the best that the music in the bar was loud and that they were in a corner tucked away from the crowds. 

 

But fuck, they were still in a corner in a public bar. So Regina forced the hand at Emma’s neck to pull against soft blonde curls and force some distance between them.

 

“Woah,” Emma breathed. 

 

Regina smiled, eyes sparkling, and it all stood still for a moment. 

 

“Do you want to maybe-” Regina began.

 

“Yes,” Emma replied before Regina had even finished. Her urgency would have been amusing if it wasn’t so impossibly hot . 

 

“Ok, then,” Regina said easily, placing a chaste kiss on Emma’s parted lips for good measure, and moving to finish her Negroni in one large gulp.

 

Now they were on the same page, Regina was loath to have any delay to the unique pleasure of watching Emma Swan fall apart underneath her again. 

 

“Let’s go,” Emma rallied, taking Regina’s hand still intertwined in hers and hauling her towards the exit. 

 

Regina’s answering butterflies were real, but nothing compared to the swell of feeling as she looked at their hands, together. The fragile happiness of the past twenty four hours had cemented itself during their brief conversation, and she allowed herself to ogle Emma’s figure ahead of her now she had conquered the fear that she might disappear into a mirage when Regina let go.

 

~.~

Notes:

you can probably guess where they're gonna end up in the next chapter, so anyone who isn't here for the spice you've got one more chapter and an epilogue. If you like spice, you've got 5k words of just that coming your way first ;)

Chapter 16

Notes:

this is pure, unashamed, self-indulgent pwp. you're warned

It took longer than the last time for Regina to have Emma writhing underneath her, and she supposed there was something poetic about that. For all the impossible heat that had expanded between the two of them over the course of the past twelve hours, the six-week hiatus had left Regina wanting to savour their coming together this time. 

 

So yes, she may have given into a moment of weakness in the elevator, pinning Emma between her hips and the wall as she devoured her with open-mouthed kisses. But that was all, a moment that had started and ended in less than twenty seconds as they soon approached her floor. It had been delicious for all its brevity, and Regina could feel the lingering heat somewhere south of her belly button where the pressure of Emma’s movement had been the most intense. 

 

How she had managed to pull herself away, she had no idea. Emma’s lips were swollen, her faint pink lip smudged across her chin and her cheeks no less rose-tinted with the exertion. But pull away she had, and it was her turn to lead them with joined hands, this time to her front door. 

 

She took a deep breath as she held the cool brass doorknob in her hand and allowed herself to accept that this was happening. A culmination of the best and worst six weeks of her life, and now she felt Emma’s desire expanding in the space behind her. 

 

“Can I get you a drink?” Regina echoed her earlier offer from their time in the bar together. 

 

Emma was looking at her like she was the tall glass of something on offer, and it was as disarming as it was delightful. 

 

“Sure,” Emma agreed thickly, toeing off her cowboy boots as she took a step into Regina’s sanctuary once again. Looking around, she found comfort in the gently familiar decor. It had been a while, but there was little that Emma didn’t remember about that night. “Whatever you’re having is great,” she added belatedly, realising that Regina had padded through to the kitchen without ceremony. 

 

When Emma caught up with her, she was uncorking a bottle of wine that looked familiar. 

 

“Is that-” Emma pondered, noticing the label of her favourite wine.

 

“I couldn’t bring myself to open it after-” Regina’s answer cut off with a slight hitch to her voice. “Anyway, it serves us well now, because you can have your favourite.”

 

Emma crossed the room in three sweeping strides and kissed Regina square on the lips. 

 

“I don’t know, you’re fast catching up,” she teased. 

 

Regina kissed her back, tongue dancing around Emma’s complimentary words. The kiss deepening set Regina’s hairs on end, and she indulged for several moments before migrating them both towards the lounge with the open wine bottle in her free hand. 

 

“Make yourself at home,” she insisted, gently guiding Emma’s toned form onto the couch. And yeah, she really hoped Emma took those words to heart. She looked divine, casually sprawled across the plush seating with a smirk on her face as Regina made her way over to her sound system. 

 

“Yeah, you can laugh. It’s a relic. But I like the feeling of my music being three dimensional when I have the time to enjoy it like that,” Regina defended her record player. As she spared Emma a glance, running her fingers softly along the spines of the records on her bookshelf, it wasn’t lost on her that she had 3D music right in front of her too. 

 

Emma noticed it, her hands, and took a shaky gulp of her wine. 

 

Regina smiled, completely unbothered by the attention - enjoying it, even. 

 

And then Regina deliberately bent over to pick up an LP from the bottom shelf, displaying her perfect ass in the impossibly tight dress that Emma had wanted to tear from her for hours now. 

 

“Fuck,” came the barely audible exclamation from the blonde on the sofa. 

 

Bingo, Regina mused silently. 

 

She took her time placing the vinyl on the turntable, blowing the dust from the grooves and getting it turning. The soft lilt of guitars signalled her success and she crossed the floor slowly to join Emma as Kacey Musgraves started singing softly. 

 

“I prefer your music, of course,” she admitted as she sat down. “But I’m not sure how you feel about that during all that I’ve got planned for you,” she continued, voice dropping through the floor as she allowed her arousal to wash over her. 

 

Emma reached a hand to capture the juncture between Regina’s neck and her shoulders, just close enough to send a shiver down Regina's spine, but not enough that her head truly emptied.  

 

“And what do you have planned for me?” She implored, playing along beautifully with Regina’s game in the hopes that it would speed along all that she had planned for the weekend. 

 

“Well, it’s been quite a while since I last ate, so I think I’ll start with a midnight snack,” she alluded directly. 

 

And - well - God. 

 

It was way past midnight, but Emma felt her pussy clench at the implication. She leveraged her hold on Regina’s neck to pull them together once again, allowing them to pick up where they had left off on the sofa in the green room earlier. Regina’s couch was much more luxurious - of course - and Emma was glad for the space which allowed her to pull Regina half on top of her as she sought the delicious friction that she knew would undo her.

 

~.~

 

This time, Regina wasn’t trying to behave. With the threat of interruption removed, she moved fluidly across Emma’s body. Searching hands reached and grasped across any exposed skin that Regina could find, rucking up Emma’s shirt and tank top and pulling them over her head in no time until Emma was left in a bra and skinny jeans. Her fingertips found a hard stomach that made Regina’s own roll with satisfaction. 

 

“God, so fucking insanely hot,” Regina murmured to herself, reaching for Emma’s perfect tits. As they had been the last time, they were the perfect size and weight, and Regina felt the arousal collecting between her legs as she kneaded soft-but-firm flesh and occupied her lips with Emma’s. 

 

And then she felt the unmistakable press of Emma’s nipples tightening with arousal. Slightly mad with the heat of it all, she bit softly on Emma’s lower lip, and Emma answered by opening her mouth and moaning into Regina. 

 

It was heady, her undoing. And Regina was no less tied together for all her charade of being in control. 

 

And there was the confirmation again, that Emma liked to lose control a bit, that she liked a small amount of pain wrapped up in her pleasure. That realisation had Regina almost gasping. 

 

Emma felt it, felt her breathing increase with their mutual arousal, and she thought she might die if Regina didn’t remove her jeans right now. Emboldened, she reached between them to the button clasp at her midsection and started to create some space for Regina’s hands to follow her. 

 

“I don’t recall suggesting we were ready for that yet, Em-ma,” Regina tensed, testing the waters. 

 

Emma’s answering whimper gave Regina all the confirmation she needed. 

 

Oh God. 

 

Emma wasn’t sure she was going to survive this emboldened, confident Regina. Apparently her ugly duckling phase was non-existent, and now that her nerves had dissipated, she was armed and dangerous. 

 

Regina had had six weeks since last tasting Emma Swan’s brand of perfection, and she had been doing some reading. And she had enjoyed this kind of thing before, with him. Always the other way, and leaving her craving more, but it served to reason that she would enjoy taking control with Emma, if everything else was to go by. And since ripping the band aid and discovering her sense of self, and the understanding of her own desires, Regina knew what she wanted and was not afraid to take it.  

 

“I suppose I’ll allow the jeans as a concession, if you’re willing to pay for it?” Regina suggested provocatively. 

 

“Yes, ” Emma breathed without thinking.

 

Regina snapped out of character immediately, and Emma felt her disappointment keenly. 

 

“At some point we’re going to have a better conversation about boundaries,” Regina insisted in a hard voice. “Because damn, it’s so hot to see you like this under my hands. But I don’t want anything that you’re not into.”

 

Emma whimpered again, both from the painful frustration of not having been touched, but also from the implication of Regina’s words. She didn’t want any room for regret, and Emma was drowning slowly in her care. 

 

“But for now,” Regina’s voice regained all of its earlier affectation. “I’m not going to delay in giving you what you want.”

 

“Thank fuuuuck ,” Emma quaked unsteadily. She was even more certain than before of the mess at her midsection, and all that it implied. 

 

Regina brushed Emma's hands away fluidly, and set about opening her buttons and her fly without further ceremony. The movement of denim against lace caused a reactionary movement from Emma’s hips, but she bit down on her tongue to fight the plea that accompanied it, not wanting to concede just yet. 

 

Regina’s fingertips traced the skin up and down her legs as strong thumbs through belt loops tugged on Emma’s pants. Open mouthed kisses followed the tantalising fingers, and there was nothing restrained or delicate about the way Emma writhed against the couch under her. 

 

She repeated the actions with Emma’s lace underwear, moaning hotly as all of Emma was revealed to her once again.

 

Overheated, Regina placed a lingering kiss at the apex of Emma’s thighs and then stood up, putting a temporary distance between them as she reached for the zipper carved against the side of her dress. 

 

“Oh God, oh - Regina,” Emma panted. “Let me - I want to touch you,” she gasped. 

 

Regina chuckled that sinful, sexy laugh that threatened Emma’s undoing, and spun on the spot, just out of Emma’s reach but well within her eye line. And ok, Regina had put on this particular set of underwear - if such a scrap of fabric could generously even be called underwear - with Emma in mind. But seeing Emma borderline incapable of speaking at the sight of her made Regina feel the heat stronger than ever before in her chest as well as between her legs.

 

“What do you think?” She implored, still spinning slowly. 

 

“Ithinkyou’reperfect,” Emma rushed, words blurring as she was overcome by the sheer strength of her want. 

 

Regina rewarded Emma’s attempt with a kiss, a wet and demanding thing that left Regina firmly within reaching distance, and Emma becoming a liquid mess over the sofa. 

 

“I think we should clean that up, don’t you?” She asked when they parted, gesturing to Emma’s glistening centre. 

 

“Yes - oh - please,” Emma finally caved. 

 

“That’s all you had to say,” Regina teased softly before climbing gracefully back astride Emma and kissing her way from Emma’s mouth to her thighs. And then finally, finally, she allowed herself to taste the tangy, hedonistic flavour of Emma Swan under her mouth again. 

 

One, two soft strokes with her tongue collected Emma’s arousal just as quickly as it was replaced. Regina savoured the fresh burst pooling on overheated folds, moaning loudly at the physical evidence of Emma’s attraction towards her. 

 

With strong hands fighting for purchase against her scalp, Regina put Emma out of her misery and finally started making out with her pussy. She ate her out with feeling, alternating fast and soft so Emma couldn’t ever fully anticipate where she was. 

 

And all too soon Emma was silently begging to fall apart underneath her, her body screaming her need for release louder than Emma could have spoken even if she had tried. Regina held her there for an extended moment, refusing anything but the most tantalising touch at her clit and her clit alone whilst Emma squirmed with unguarded pleasure. It was surprising how quickly Reigna recognised her tells, but then again Emma wasn’t exactly subtle. 

 

“It’s ok, Em-ma,” she said softly, fondly from her place between Emma’s legs. Warm air washed over warmer skin and Emma shivered despite feeling as far from cold as she ever had. “I want you to let go for me, darling.”

 

Emma moaned, lost in everything Regina was giving her. The endearment that Regina had let slip earlier to chase that fan away shifted something in Emma’s brain, hearing it spoken so prettily against her mess. She had thought about this moment for over a month, and now it was going to happen without Regina even so much as inching inside her. 

 

Fucking embarrassing, but what can you do?

 

Emma’s climax hit her like a wrecking ball, exploding feeling from where Regina’s lips were shooting electricity into her nerves and ricocheting through her body from her head to her toes. 

 

“Holy - hell, Regina,” she moaned, mouth open and gasping for breath in the aftermath. 

 

Regina migrated herself slowly up Emma’s body, kissing her gently as she went and smirking like the devil at Emma’s reaction to her touch. 

 

God she was so perfect. 

 

~.~

 

Regina gave Emma all of three minutes to recover herself before she hauled her to her feet without ceremony. 

 

“Do you want to make your way to the bed and onto all fours?” She asked in a soft tone, bookending it with a paper light kiss behind Emma’s ear. Her question was genuine, and Emma could hear the undercurrent of uncertainty which told of Regina’s need to see Emma’s enthusiasm before continuing. 

 

It was cute, because it meant Regina cared about her. 

 

But also. It was hot, because it meant Regina wanted her.

 

So fuck, yes. 

 

Yes she wanted to. There was no question of that. 

 

Emma moved quickly on shaky legs, rich with the memory of her recent orgasm and already fizzing with the anticipation of the next one, and how Regina would certainly make her work for it. She managed to find her way with little difficulty despite the length of time that had passed since the last time, and if it weren't for her current predicament she’d probably be embarrassed at revealing quite how many times she had let her mind wander back to that night, in great detail.

 

Once Emma was laid out on the bed for her, Regina removed the last of her clothes and moved onto the white sheets behind her. She allowed herself to grind teasingly against Emma’s perfect bottom, bared as it was in front of her. It relieved some of her own tension, and gave her focus as she allowed her fingers to part the wetness between Emma’s legs. 

 

Emma moaned into the feeling, her face against Regina’s soft sheets once more and breathing - panting, really - in the scent of Regina’s laundry detergent. 

 

Regina’s fingers moved with purpose, and all thoughts of mundane affairs like laundry rapidly exited Emma’s head. In fact, all thoughts exited full stop.

 

“Oh, so you like that?” Regina encouraged in a suggestive tone. 

 

“Y-y-yeah,” Emma stuttered in time with Regina’s slow swiping. Her fingers burned where Emma was already liquid heat, and Emma squirmed with her ass in the air as she tried to manoeuvre herself so that Regina would touch her where she was begging for it. 

 

There was something more intense about this position, where Regina could see all of Emma, but Emma could only see Regina’s face and torso in her peripheral vision. She couldn’t make out Regina’s hands, which meant every touch was a heated surprise. She couldn’t prepare herself for any of Regina’s movements, and it meant she anticipated several possibilities for every slight adjustment Regina made. 

 

She felt fingers pressing firmly against her oversensitive clit, but found herself held in place with Regina’s other hand, so that when she instinctively bucked away from the overstimulation she was instead held aloft in the heady feeling of it all.

 

“God,” Emma whispered, a broken plea against the mattress. “I need you.”

 

The admission was rewarded with a firm squeeze of her bottom, and with two slender fingers moving closer to her centre.

 

“Is that so?” Regina asked lowly, sin dripping from her tone like syrup as she cupped all of Emma in a single quick movement.

 

Emma whimpered. 

 

“Yes?” Regina murmured.

 

“Yeeeesss, ” Emma echoed, much longer and breathier than her counterpart, and completely unable to form more than single words now that the heat of Regina’s palm was pressed firmly against her clit. The soft spread of stimulation felt amazing against the delightful harshness that had preceded it. 

 

“In-side ,” Emma continued. And yeah, maybe Regina had reduced her to pitiful begging once again. She couldn’t find it within herself to be mad about it. She was on the edge of falling into something amazing again, and if begging Regina was the fastest route to getting what she wanted, she’d allow the concession. 

 

Regina chuckled, fingers vibrating with the motion and causing Emma to moan all over again. But Emma felt her palm retreating, and a single finger tracing circles around her opening. 

 

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

 

Regina’s laugh increased in volume, dirty as it had been before and all the more arousing because of it. Had Emma said that aloud? It didn’t matter, nothing mattered apart from the excruciatingly soft contact between the tips of Regina’s fingers and the inside of Emma’s vagina. 

 

“Em-ma, darling,” Regina offered with her single finger entering to her first knuckle. The surprising softness made Emma gasp, but Regina’s fingers were anything but soft. 

 

When she bottomed out, they moaned in tandem. For all of the back and forth, the waiting and wanting, and all of her doubts, Regina had a moment of clarity as she felt Emma all around her once again. 

 

It was all worth it. 

 

She couldn’t hold herself back even if she wanted to, pouring all of her pent up feeling into slowly fucking Emma Swan from behind. 

 

It didn’t take long for Regina to add another finger, parting them softly inside Emma until she felt the stretch of Emma’s walls around her. The movement was accompanied by a moan, and the slight re-angling of Emma’s hips in a bid to pull Regina further inside her. It wasn’t a move without result, and Emma cried her name into the mattress in response. 

 

“I love it when you say my name like that,” Regina admitted, feeling wetness around her fingers as Emma responded non-verbally and bucked her hips backwards.

 

Yeah, maybe Emma was fucking her as much as her intent had been the opposite. It was quite a sight to behold, so Regina wasn’t left too disappointed. Strong thighs clenching and unclenching, the view of Emma’s firm asscheeks moving in tandem with her own hands, the wetness that threatened to undo Regina… Yeah, there was a lot to compensate for any disappointment she may have felt at handing over the reins.

 

Emma’s breath was coming quicker now, Regina’s fingers curling as they pressed in a firm back and forth. Her hands gripped the bedsheets, wringing them painfully between her fingers as Regina held her right where she wanted her. 

 

“Please,” Emma begged quietly. 

 

“What was that?” Regina feigned ignorance, though there was little else that Emma could have said in that moment, so focussed as she was on the cacophony building between her legs. 

 

“Please, Regina,” she repeated, her voice louder but no less strained for the volume increase. 

 

Regina continued her teasing movements, adding another hand that reached around and lightly grazed Emma’s raised clit. She was intentionally soft in her caresses, and it was maddening for Emma. 

 

Almost but not quite enough, Emma felt all of her muscles tensing as she fought to find her release. And Regina didn’t let up. She didn’t change her motions at all, savouring the feeling of Emma being so wrapped up in the extended moment of ecstasy. 

 

“Please can you just-” Emma whimpered brokenly, her breath hot and staccato between words. 

 

Regina paused for a moment to let her form her question, and Emma’s whine at the de-escalation was anything but quiet. 

 

“Please, I need to cum,” she settled on, glad that her face was pressed into the mattress so Regina couldn’t see the blush that came to her at the admission. 

 

“Oh darling,” Regina replied, words cloying, laying it on thick as leather. “All you had to do was ask.”

 

There was silence. A beat. A heady, glorious, anticipatory beat, before Regina redoubled her efforts and moved once more with conviction between Emma’s legs. 

 

Now Regina was really trying, all it took was a few pumps of her hands, a few curls of her slender fingers inside Emma’s tightness, and Emma’s breath stalled as she came with the force of a thousand small suns. 

 

“It’s ok,” Regina reassured her, climbing up her body so that they could rest next to each other whilst Emma recovered. 

 

There was such clarity in the aftermath. Regina licked her fingers clean whilst Emma’s exhausted eyes watched on hungrily. And then it was temporarily over, the fire extinguished to burnt orange embers as she just enjoyed the peace and gentleness that washed over them in waves. It was so much better now she didn’t have to second guess every movement. Now she knew what Emma wanted, and even more so, what she wanted, she could just lose herself to the heady marvel of feeling. And there was something special about that. Regina couldn’t remember the last time she felt so calm.

 

Yeah. She could get used to this. 

 

~.~

 

“We’re going to have to stop making a habit of you letting me finish first,” Emma breathed, satisfaction dripping from her like syrup and in strict opposition to the frustration in her words. It left the effect of insincerity in the afterthought, although Emma meant it with every fibre. 

 

“How about we try together instead, then?” Regina asked, mind already drifting to a small box in her nightstand that contained a number of ways that Emma could - and would - get her off. 

 

“I - God. You are trying to kill me, Regina?” Emma spluttered. 

 

Regina arched her eyebrow, daring Emma to pretend that she wasn’t enjoying herself. She was much too easy to read, and Regina enjoyed the playfulness of her teasing, as well as the feeling of Emma fucking Swan so enthralled under her. It was a power quite unlike any other she had tasted, and it drove her slightly wild. 

 

“I mean,” Emma struggled. It was insane quite how good Regina was at completely emptying and rearranging her with a few words or a few measured movements. And Emma found that she didn’t want to be anywhere else.

 

“Well, I have a few options, Em-ma,” Regina offered, running her lips along Emma’s exposed collarbone as still-wet fingers repeated the action along her hips, causing her abs to clench deliciously. 

 

“If you’re still feeling sensitive-” she swiped a finger through Emma’s softness, thrilling as she whimpered her response. “-then I have something you can hold in your hands to make me feel good,” she said sweetly. 

 

Emma’s jaw slackened, and Regina leant down to kiss her hungrily. 

 

“Or if you feel up to it, I’d quite like to ride you so you can feel it,” she offered. 

 

Oh God. Emma wasn’t sure she would survive this night. She had never felt more turned on, gone to the point that she was pretty sure she would jump off a bridge if Regina asked her to. 

 

“That, please,” Emma requested. “Fuck, I want you to ride me.”

 

The image came to her with closed eyes as she worked through the frustration at having let herself get so worked up so quickly. But she couldn’t quite regret it either, not when Regina was grinning wildly down at her. 

 

She was gone for a moment as she disappeared to fetch the toy that she’d alluded to, and Emma released the tension that had accumulated in her chest with one heavy exhalation. 

 

Regina kissed her again, wanting Emma to be putty in her hands once more before getting her ready for what she had in mind. She knew she would be sensitive still, and she wanted her to be at the point of begging before touching her again. It would make it much more pleasurable for the both of them, she was sure. Emma’s eyes widened at the silicone in Regina’s hands, a thick, double-ended purple dildo that Regina held with a confidence she didn’t feel. 

 

Fuck, why was it so much easier when they were focussing on Emma’s pleasure alone?

 

But alongside her trepidation was over forty minutes of build towards her own arousal, and she was dripping for it. So she snapped herself back into her confident self, and seized Emma’s lips once again as she ran the cool silicone phallus against Emma’s swollen clit. 

 

Her breath hitched, and she started begging again. 

 

That would do perfectly. 

 

Regina pressed the short, curved end of the toy more firmly at Emma’s entrance, teasing slightly with the very tip on the verge of entering her. Its girth was considerably wider than Regina’s two fingers had been, and she felt the slippery resistance as Emma took it slowly inch by inch, moaning her pleasure as she did so.  

 

“You’re doing so well,” Regina praised softly, mesmerised at the view. 

 

And fuck, hearing Regina’s wondrous tone, so happy with her and so lost in her appreciation of Emma’s body, it was almost too much. Emma was going to try to last as long as she could with Regina moving on top of her, but she was so painfully close to letting her desire get the better of her already. Feeling so deliciously filled with everything Regina was offering, and with the anticipation of what she was about to watch as the front row seat, she couldn’t hold back her sounds of appreciation, wordless as they were. 

 

And then it reached the hilt. 

 

Fuck, Emma had never felt so full, so everywhere. It wasn’t even long, but it was Regina, somehow part of her despite being made of plastic. Emma felt her, and she couldn’t get enough. Wordlessly, she pulled Regina’s lips towards her own with undisguised want and allowed her desperate kisses to convey all that she wasn’t able to say.

 

With her eyes still closed, she felt Regina settle into place on top of her. She heard her. All wet movement and sinful moaning as she moved slowly onto the longer half of the toy. 

 

Emma opened her eyes, and for an extended moment all sense of their game disappeared. It was just the two of them, Emma and Regina, relishing the feeling of being so connected to each other at last. 

 

“Fuck, Em-ma,” Regina hissed as she felt herself bottom out on the purple length. Emma felt the other end pressing against her front as Regina’s thighs reached flush with her own. She watched, awestruck, as Regina leant down to kiss her soundly, her tits swinging softly over Emma.

 

Regina moaned into Emma’s mouth again, setting an achingly slow pace with her hips as she moved up and down along Emma’s length. 

 

“God, you feel - so - ungh,” Regina panted against Emma’s lips, getting lost in the tide of feeling. It felt like Emma was everywhere, and Regina fell headfirst into her own pleasure as she acknowledged it. “So - big - so - Em-ma.”

 

Hearing Regina’s urgency, Emma reached a hand between them and lightly vibrated her thumb across Regina's clit. It took all her concentration to hold her stomach muscles still and to continue the gentle circles where Regina needed her most. But it was worth it when Regina sat back up, throwing her head back and closing her eyes against the way Emma was making her feel. Emma definitely knew what she was doing, and every swipe sent small currents to Regina’s centre and increased her pace. With the change in angle, the head of the toy hit a spot inside Regina that caused a gushing between her legs and a needy scream to exit her mouth. 

 

“Fuck. Right. There,” she commanded, and Emma doubled her efforts. 

 

This was heaven, Regina was sure of it. She didn’t know if she wanted to fall off the edge or to never stop, but one small buck of Emma’s hips sealed her fate. To feel Emma moving against her completely undid the last seal on Regina’s restraint, and she came with all of the force that had built over the last six weeks. 

 

“Em-ma, Em-ma, fuck, Em-ma,” she chanted, limbs going floppy as she fell onto Emma’s overheated chest. 

 

~.~

 

Regina heard Emma’s low hum as she enjoyed the feeling of still being connected by the hips whilst basking in the comfort of Emma’s slow circles over her back. It was bliss, her mind finally quiet as the gentle heat that was all Emma expanded through her brain, leaving no space for anything else. Emma moved gently, trying to make sure that Regina could breathe from her position nuzzled between her perfect boobs, but she felt the motion deep inside her as Regina’s hips moved to accommodate the change in position. 

 

“Mmmf,” Emma moaned. “That feels unbelievable.”

 

She chuckled through her disbelief, and that made matters even worse. 

 

“You feel unbelievable, Regina,” she gasped, concerned when Regina hadn’t replied with some witticism to her first observation.

 

“Regina?” She prodded gently.

 

“Mmmmmhmmm,” Regina replied blissfully. “I agree,” she added lazily. “I am pretty unbelievable.”

 

Emma chuckled again, and Regina fully returned to her from whatever post-orgasm vacation she had been on. 

 

“Ok, Ms Unbelievable,” Emma replied sassily. “It’s your turn to act like a pretty little femme and get on all fours for me.”

 

That wasn’t - oh. But it was. Holy shit. It couldn’t have been accidental. That was almost exactly what Emma had said to mould her as putty in her hands that very first night that started this whole crazy thing.

 

Regina squeaked, extricating herself slowly and gently from the toy that was still very much inside Emma, who moaned at the motion. 

 

And just like that, they were back to the maddening give and take of control again. But Regina thrilled at Emma’s instructions, in the same strangled breath as she felt her insides clenching as Emma swatted her ass lightly and manhandled her hips into place on the bed in front of her. 

 

“Face on the sheets,” Emma growled sharply, tugging Regina’s ass into the air as she instructed her movements. Regina couldn’t see the gorgeous blonde from her position face down into the mattress, but she felt the bed dip on the outsides of her bent knees and she felt the wet slap of the purple phallus against her cheeks as Emma got herself comfortable. 

 

And sure, Regina enjoyed ceding control to Emma as much as she enjoyed taking it from her. Right now, there was nothing that Regina wanted more than for Emma to take all she wanted from her. Her ass clenched thinking about the view that Emma must have, everything bared and dripping in front of her, and she shivered at the thought. 

 

“Please, Em-ma,” she moaned into the soft bedspread. 

 

God, Regina sounded pretty when she moaned. Emma told her just as much, and the warmth of her praise had Regina bucking her hips against empty air with something akin to desperation. 

 

“Since you asked so nicely,” Emma replied, teasing with maddeningly gentle strokes across every part of Regina she could reach and making sure the toy brushed across Regina’s sensitive parts without actually giving her any of the friction she so clearly craved. 

 

But it wasn’t just Regina who craved friction. No, Emma was clearly reaching the very end of her patience if the stuttering of her hips was anything to go by. 

 

And then she was sliding herself slowly back into Regina’s quivering heat. 

 

“Ohgodohgodohgod,” Regina chanted as she felt Emma filling her in one strong and deliberate motion. The new angle meant the toy hit that spot with every single pass of Emma’s hips, and Regina knew it was only a matter of time before she was completely spent. Emma drove a steady and punishing pace, barrelling against her own orgasm as she felt Regina’s closing in on them.

 

In the end, it was very difficult to tell who fell apart first. All too soon, they were exploding into each other again, both quite impossibly entangled to the point where they were almost indistinguishable. Regina took a moment to remove the toy, both wincing at the separation, but glad to find themselves surrounded once more by each other when it was done. 

 

It felt like floating, the soft cradle of Emma’s arms blocking out everything else apart from them . And Regina had never felt anything close to the total eclipse of Emma blocking out the sun for her. If only Regina had known, it was because she herself was the sun, her steady heat warming and settling Emma in a way she had never allowed herself to just be before.

 

A stillness washed over them, soft ripples over the lake of Regina’s consciousness as she allowed herself to drift to sleep. 

 

~.~

 

Notes:

whew! lmk what you thought - I might be unhealthily obsessed with how much of a 'gay up' I've seen in myself and queer friends - in doing the hard thing and being yourself loudly, you give yourself permission to take what you want from so many different places in your life too. I hope I've done justice to that with Regina here :)

Chapter 17

Notes:

For anyone joining us after skipping the last chapter, I wasn't lying about the "without plot" part, so we're jumping right in without a TL;DR

It's the last chapter - congrats for making it this far :) - and there's another song, a bit of an angsty one which you can find here https://open.spotify.com/track/40TiAhLhPRl3CeMvofzwtD

The morning after the magical night before dawned still and unseasonably warm. There was a cautious care in the way the sunbeams stretched their straight fingers through the small gap in Regina's thick navy curtains. The gentle weight of her down duvet curled around her outstretched limbs, but that wasn't all. As consciousness unclouded her hazy morning brain, she became slowly aware of the warm and wonderful weight of the blonde woman breathing slowly at her side.

 

Regina had counted herself extremely fortunate to have seen multiple versions of Emma Swan last night. There was the shy and repentant green room Emma, which had made Regina feel longed for in a way she never had before, the confident stage persona who had turned longing into hunger with her the song she had written for Regina, and then the completely undone and somehow intensely powerful Emma who she had taken to bed and who had turned her hunger into thirst. And Regina had enjoyed every facet of Emma's personality that she had seen so far.

 

But there was something so soft and beautiful about this Emma, wrapped in expensive sheets with curls running wild around her peaceful face, that confirmed she was Regina's favourite of all. 

 

~.~

 

She found herself midway through cooking pancakes around half an hour later, having done all of the cellphone-based admin she could reasonably manage whilst still so delightfully entangled in Emma. Text messages had been fired off to the group chat, and separately to her sister to thank her for all of the moral support the day before. But Regina had decided to let Emma stay in bed for just a fraction longer. The blonde singer looked entirely too devastating sprawled across Regina’s pillow, so much that Regina had been sorely tempted to take a photo as a memento. She held herself back, reminding herself that Emma was a human being who deserved to have a autonomy over her photos - especially those which showed so much of her gorgeous body. 

 

The casual domesticity of her actions in making Emma a hand-cooked breakfast wasn't lost on her.

 

But it didn’t take long before the scent and sound from the kitchen woke Emma. She emerged, bleary eyed and cute as anything, just as Regina was pouring the second batch of batter into the hot pan. 

 

Regina looked up from the task at hand to see Emma wrapped in the spare robe that had been hanging next to the one she was currently wearing. She was filled with liquid heat at the warm, adorable, tantalising image of Emma in her clothes. Her gaze lingered for a fraction longer than perhaps was wise, but soon she trained her eyes onto the pan again, lest she do something stupid and admit things it was definitely too soon to be saying out loud. 

 

“Smells good,” she heard Emma call appreciatively as she padded through the large open-plan lounge area and across to where Regina was standing, looking devastating as the robe moved fluidly around her. “Didn't realise I was getting the full VIP treatment,” she joked.

 

“If you think I'm going to massage your ego again by telling you how very important you are, you've got another thing coming Emma Swan,” Regina teased back, putting on a silly stern voice to sell the act.

 

Emma laughed unguardedly, and Regina looked down to the pancakes to prevent herself from doing anything stupid. 

 

“But I am a very important person,” Emma teased childishly. Her voice was coarse with sleep, and the combination of innocence and suggestion did something strange to Regina’s insides. 

 

Regina rolled her eyes fondly at the lighthearted humour that suggested Emma didn’t believe her words at all. 

 

“And I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of agreeing with you,” Regina deadpanned.

 

“Ouch. You wound me,” Emma cried, clutching her chest and greatly over-acting her feigned upset. 

 

The playfulness was refreshing, and reassuring after the very heated events of the night before. Regina was glad they were compatible in the daytime, and in the more domestic ways too. 

 

“Ah yes, but flattery is not the only way to satisfy a person,” Regina offered by way of consolation. She spoke lowly, offering Emma a furtive glance between long eyelashes that warmed Emma’s body as she traced firm-but-soft curves with a hungry intensity for all the brevity in her look. 

 

Emma moaned, and Regina was immediately transported back to the night before. 

 

Yep, nailed the whole not-saying-something-stupid thing. 

 

“With pancakes, you mean?” Emma followed after a pregnant pause. She had a hungry look in her eyes that was nothing to do with the pancakes on the counter between them. 

 

“Sure, for starters,” Regina replied cheekily. 

 

They stood there for a moment, staring intensely at each other. Regina wondered who would cave into the delicious tension first and close the gap between the two. 

 

There was a large and inescapable part of herself that wanted to toss the pancakes to the side and enjoy Emma for breakfast instead. And she fought with the dangerous desire to throw her against the counters, to pull aside the soft fabric of her borrowed robe and rediscover all of Emma’s perfect body in the warm light of the morning.

 

But she also wanted more than something purely physical. She wanted it to feel real. She wanted for Emma’s presence to linger far beyond the magic of their two nights together. And Emma had seemed open to that, but old habits die hard, and Regina had spent a lifetime doubting her ability to keep a good thing going.

 

She looked down at deep brown pancakes and rushed to turn the stove off. 

 

Emma shuffled on the balls of her feet, acutely aware of the smooth tile underneath them as she looked for something to busy her own hands. Regina read a mirror of her own emotions, the desire for distraction from her own arousal, and directed her gently to the berries and syrup and then to the table in the open plan lounge area.

 

~.~

 

“Are you a coffee person?” Regina asked once Emma was seated with an array of breakfast foods in front of her. The rich aroma awoke her senses as she poured her own cup from the french press and took a deep gulp of warm liquid. It was another sign that their reconciliation was real, and that settled her somewhat.

 

“Yes please, with sugar and cream though,” she gestured to Regina’s plain black roast. “I never trained myself to enjoy the bitterness, even when I need the caffeine.”

 

Even the small bite of Emma’s personality had Regina’s heart racing. Each step towards being known was the reassurance that Regina needed. And God, Regina wanted to get to know Emma so badly. For the complete overhaul that Emma had given Regina's life, she knew very little of the everyday and ordinary parts of her. 

 

“It feels a bit formal to ask you to tell me about yourself,” Regina laughed softly as she built a mountain of berries on her plate. “But I want to know you, Emma.” 

 

It was disarming for Emma, how seen she felt by this relative stranger. They hadn’t even scratched the surface of each others’ lives. All she really knew was that Regina was a lawyer with a nice fancy apartment in Manhattan, that her parents were awful, that she was crazy hot, and that she had a killer singing voice. And the enigma of Regina Mills was an ever evolving puzzle that Emma couldn't wait to unpick. Already, she had noticed the difference between the first night and the last, was even more attracted to Regina for understanding where she had come from and all of the challenges she had overcome.

 

But in the same breath, a conversation with her management niggled the back of her mind, growing louder as she tried to tramp it down. She had promised to talk to Regina about it, and especially if this was going to become something longer term, which was chief in Emma's wishes. 

 

She took a sip of coffee and swore as the heat scalded her all the way down, hoping her words would not have a similar effect on Regina.

 

“Ok, I hate to have to do this,” Emma began.

 

Regina curled in on herself, shoulders dropping as she tried to stem the overwhelming disappointment she felt at Emma’s words. She turned her face to hide her crestfallen expression, and focused her attention on her food instead of the too-good-to-be-true blonde next to her. 

 

“Regina-” she begged for her attention and patience, waiting to finish her sentence until the other woman looked her in the eyes. “I want to do this - to answer any and all of your questions and see where this goes and definitely to have a repeat of both nights we spent together. But I can’t just - you know who I am - the world is -”

 

She huffed, frustrated at herself. 

 

“You’re a lawyer, you understand why I might be a bit more anxious than most around my own privacy,” Emma tried again.

 

She could tell the moment that Regina realised what she had been trying to say. 

 

“Oh, Emma,” she breathed with such relief and affectation that Emma knew she had nothing to worry about. “Of course, you have every right to be concerned. But hopefully the last six weeks have provided some assurance?”

 

Discomfort hung heavily between them for a stranded moment. 

 

“But to err on the side of caution, I wouldn’t ever share anything that you haven’t already made public. And I-” she flinched, swallowing down her own chagrin as she continued. “I’m not here gold-digging or anything."

 

Emma took another look around Regina’s perfect apartment, and thought idly that that would definitely be more likely a concern the other way around. But she bit her tongue, aware that Regina wasn’t finished, and that whatever version of them that came after this would be determined by what they both had to say today. 

 

“I really enjoyed our time together so far, and I want more,” she trailed off. “And I can’t promise anything, but I’d like to think I’d be respectful whatever were to happen.”

 

Emma smiled, relieved. 

 

“I’m not asking you to sign anything right now,” Emma chuckled, trying to breathe some levity into their situation. “But thanks, that means a lot. And um - the same is true in reverse,” she promised. It was less articulate than her counterpart’s declaration, but Emma felt as though it was understood. 

 

“So… real me?” Emma began. She took a pause to wolf down some pancakes, and moaned her appreciation. “Fuck, these are so good.”

 

Regina smiled at the compliment, and gestured for Emma to continue. She felt warm all over at their mutual understanding, and tried to reign in her excitement at learning more about the woman across from her. 

 

~.~

 

Emma had made herself at home on the couch as they watched a movie together after dinner. There was something comforting in the closeness, and the gradual dropping of their guard. Regina hadn't really been paying attention to the film, and she jumped when the credits ended and silence replaced the exit music.

 

Chuckling in response to Regina's distraction, Emma placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. It was reassuring, after all of the heat of the night before, that Emma felt this softness and desire for something more lasting.

 

“I’d like to play you that other song I wrote for you now, if you want to hear it?” Emma said anxiously, suddenly nervous. It wasn't as if she wasn't comfortable sharing her music - far from it. Regina had seen the evidence of that on multiple occasions.

 

The challenge was sharing this song in front of Regina, and Regina alone.  

 

She had written for other people before, but never with quite so much weight riding on their reaction. The vulnerability was necessary, but it didn't mean that Emma had to enjoy it. 

 

Regina sensed it, the sudden tension covering Emma in waves, and squeezed her hand in reassurance.

 

“I'd love to,” she breathed. Her encouragement was a tangible beast and it gave Emma the courage to hit play on the voicenote.

 

“Ok, it's obviously a work in progress. I can really see some soft chords on the piano coming in at the start, and we'll have some plucked strings after the first verse, add a bit of reverb on the vocals and…”

 

Regina was smiling fondly at the rambling, and Emma trailed off at the evidence she had gotten carried away.

 

“I guess you know what I mean when I say it's a demo?” She tried again.

 

“Yes, Emma. You don't need to stall, I'm sure I'll love it,” Regina spoke softly.

 

“Well I wrote it six weeks ago in a hotel room in Hamburg,” she explained. The significance of the date was not lost on Regina. “I'd drunk my feelings after the first show of the tour, and this is what came from some alone time at who knows what o'clock in the morning.”

 

Sympathy lined Regina's eyes as she recalled that first week of not working. As much as she regretted Emma being hurt, she had to admit that it felt good to know Emma had struggled too.

 

“I'll just-” Emma stuttered, finger settling onto the screen. 

 

“Shit, volume,” she followed rapidly, rushing to turn it up so Regina could hear.

 

I fucked up at the starting line

I jumped go now she won't be mine

It's a mess of irony and it's keeping me up at night

How I tried, but I'm on trial

Now I lie, where I lied

 

And that was - it wasn't - she... God. It was so raw, so honest.

 

Regina was floored by Emma's voice, as ever. Perhaps more so, because it was so clean and emotive with the production and the backing so stripped back. But as she picked out the words that Emma was singing, she was even more astounded by the content. 

 

If Emma was telling the truth - and Regina had no reason to doubt that she wasn't - then it was further confirmation that it really had been a colossal communication mishap and nothing more. She swooned at the evidence that Emma had felt it too. All this crazy magnetic connection, and the avalanche of feelings that wasn't quite explainable.

 

Regina's heart fucking soared. Guarded though it was, Emma had such a knack for finding the dappled light peeking through and hitting the small holes with a sledgehammer. 

 

Emma was looking at the floor, at the art on the walls, at the fancy looking books on the coffee table - at anywhere that wasn't Regina's face. No matter that she wanted more than anything to gauge Regina’s reaction, she couldn't bring herself to see it. 

 

The tune changed, signalling a chorus, and Regina placed a calming hand on Emma's knee, which vibrated rhythmically under her. Their eyes met, at last, and Regina was so astonished by the openness in Emma's green oceans that she almost forgot to keep listening. All Regina wanted was to pull Emma to her in a crushing hug, to tell her that she understood what she was trying to say. She needed Emma to know that she was forgiven.

 

But it felt like sacrilege to interrupt the recording, even to put Emma's mind at ease. So she tried to convey wordlessly with her eyes and her steadying hand on Emma's knee.

 

Now she's got a hold on my life 

And I thought that's what I'd like

But lightning doesn't strike twice

So I lie where I lied

And she's gone, she won't be mine

 

Emma's recorded voice was slightly slurred but no less accurate for her evident intoxication. And Regina could hear the regret burning over soft guitar chords. The recording continued, and Emma's hands fidgeted with her shirt cuff, discomfort pervading despite Regina's silent reassurances.

 

I fucked up again 

It's too late for even friends

I surrendered even my right to amends

Only endings, only ends

Only endings, in the end

 

And yeah, ok. Maybe Regina needed to say something. Her heart lurched as she pictured Emma replaying the voicenote on repeat much as Regina had returned to her post-it note until it was so dog-eared it was almost illegible.

 

She opted for pulling Emma into her arms in lieu of interrupting the music swelling from the small phone speaker on the table. Carding her hands through long curls, she felt Emma soften beside her. 

 

They listened together to the rest of the song without speaking, but there was a mutual understanding that softened the silence. And when the final notes were playing, Regina felt the foreign tears crawling slowly down her cheeks. She hadn't even realised she'd been crying, but everything about the song was perfect. It captured the hopeless melancholy that she had felt whenever she thought about Emma, and once again Regina was hit with the feeling of being so understood without having to explain herself.

 

“That was - wow, Emma,” Regina breathed into Emma's hairline. She placed a butterfly kiss on her forehead and turned Emma's face towards her with a gentle caress under her cheeks.

 

Emma was smiling expectantly, her eyes sparkling with hope.

 

“That was beautiful. I can't believe you wrote that for me. I don't know what to say apart from thank you, and I'm sorry.”

 

Emma's sigh of relief was audible.

 

“I'm so glad you like it,” Emma grinned.

 

“Like it? Emma I love it,” she countered. Somewhere hidden in there were all the feelings that Regina refused to say out loud so soon, but Emma beamed as though she was in on the secret. 

 

“Well… I'm better at explaining how I feel when I sing it, speaking is hard,” Emma explained, much to Regina's amusement.

 

“Well I don't have a fraction of your skill, Emma. But seriously, thank you. For the beautiful song, but also for explaining. I think you know that I felt the same for the whole of those six weeks we were apart. But I'm glad that we're here now, and I'd really like to move forwards,” she said quietly, as if Emma's response could break her words.

 

“So apology accepted?” Emma chanced.

 

“Apology accepted,” Regina echoed, her voice much stronger now she had the certainty of Emma's intention.

 

“Can I kiss you now?” Emma asked, eyes shining.

 

“Please,” Regina demanded, and Emma was only too happy to oblige.

 

~.~

 

Emma ended up staying all weekend, but their conversation was still in full swing as Regina walked her sadly to the door late on Sunday. 

 

Regina found herself more and more dangerously entranced by the blonde whirlwind at her door as the hours had gone on. She had listened intently, feeling something dangerously close to admiration for Emma as they had talked about her past. Regina had provided a safe ear as Emma painted a picture of the resilience that had come from a childhood of moving around. And Regina felt warm to be trusted with Emma’s stories of the thick skin that had seen her through the at-times-challenging experience of being a queer woman in the country music industry. 

 

Regina had shared a lot more than she usually would on a second first date. Perhaps it was the mutual unburdening that made it easier, or maybe it was just Emma and her openness, her warmth, and her kindness. She’d spoken more about her mother and her childhood with the usual bitter aftertaste that cloyed her lips, and Emma had picked up on it. She’d talked about her job, and everything that it afforded her outside of work, and Emma had remarked on how brilliant she must be to have made it so far so young. 

 

Whilst some of the conversations had been heavy, they'd had fun too. Emma was at her core a very cheerful and goofy person when she let her guard down, and she had managed to have Regina bent over on the couch with shared laughter more than once over the course of the weekend. 

 

Everything about Emma Swan was intriguing and refreshing, and Regina felt the danger of becoming too invested too quickly. 

 

Her own track record was messy, with the one or two men that had stuck around long enough to call relationships having left her a shell of her former self. And she knew too well that reality was awaiting both of them outside her front door, and that they would need to carefully manage both of their busy lives to make it work. But Regina was optimistic, and Emma was perfect.

 

Despite her best efforts, Regina hadn’t managed to keep the entire weekend to conversation alone. 

 

There had been the makeout session on the couch that had her feeling like a teenager - a horny teenager - all over again. 

 

There had been the moment that Emma emerged from Regina’s bathroom, shrouded in steam and looking like a real-life goddess in all her blonde-haloed perfection. Regina hadn’t been able to resist her, and the progress she had made in getting herself dressed had rapidly been undone.

 

And hanging on the precipice of their wild and wonderful escape from the real world, Regina had leaned in slowly and allowed herself the pleasure of Emma’s lips once more before they parted ways. 

 

It was more tender than most of their other open-mouthed kisses, and the depth of feeling swimming between both of them took Regina’s breath away. 

 

“This was - God,” she faltered, unable to find the words. 

 

“Thank you,” she settled on once she had caught her breath.

 

Emma laughed, open and carefree. “Thank you, Regina,” she echoed. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this -,” she paused, trying to put her finger on it. “-at ease, and yet so entirely undone.”

 

Regina returned the laugh with a more gentle chuckle, which felt like a caress. She had heard the double entendre, and the truth behind Emma’s words. 

 

“Just name the date,” Regina offered, heart in her throat as she waited for Emma’s verdict. 

 

“I’ll text you?” Emma replied, beaming at the confirmation that Regina felt the same. 

 

“Now you definitely have my number, you mean?” Regina interrupted, teasing. Her face turned serious as she thought on their earlier conversation about privacy. “You can use it if anyone needs any assurances - and if you need anything at all,” she said forcefully. “All you have to do is ask.”

 

Emma sighed happily, relieved that her gamble had paid off and that Regina was so understanding of her unique situation. It made sense, given her job, but it was so new to Emma to have someone who just got her . 

 

“I’m going to kiss you again,” she offered by way of reply. 

 

And it was hot, Regina had to admit, the toe-curling anticipation building already. 

 

“I really do need to go,” Emma moaned regretfully when they pulled apart. She was full of trepidation for the week ahead. There would be upbraiding for breaking all of her usual rules, and preparation for her upcoming performances and appearances and studio sessions and photoshoots and social media shoots. And all she wanted was to crawl back into bed with Regina and not resurface.

 

Regina knew, and gave her a small, chaste kiss of reassurance as she patted her perfect ass to see her on her way. 

 

“I’ll see you soon,” Emma promised. 

 

After all she had been through in the past six weeks, the complete undoing and rebuilding of herself, Regina allowed herself to smile at that concession. It had been worth it. Emma had been worth it. 

 

~.~

 

Notes:

That's it - you reached the end!

(or did you... *looks at chapter count* ... maybe not quite)

how do you think we're going to close this one out? ;)

Chapter 18: Epilogue

Notes:

Go on then... one more chapter of some established AU SQ goodness - written the day after I myself was attending an LGBT+ awards show, albeit not with my perfect girlfriend on my arm this time. See if you can sport the inspo sledgehammered through this epilogue. Enjoy!

There wasn’t usually a mob of paparazzi on the curb outside the annual American Law Awards, hosted this year at an upmarket hotel near Wall Street. But then again, the lawyers in consideration weren’t ordinarily accompanied by the media’s current sweetheart. And Emma Swan had firmly cemented herself with that title over the course of the past year. A sell-out world tour, combined with her good humour and charming personality, had made her a favourite of talk show hosts and red-carpet interviewers alike. She had legions of fans who interacted with her - and her management - across a large and active social media presence. So she and her girlfriend had come to expect and tolerate the cameras that seemingly followed them everywhere. 

 

As much as the blinding camera flashes decried it, Emma was set on making sure that this was Regina’s night. Her girlfriend was up for the biggest individual award of the night, and it was nothing short of a miracle what she had achieved to be shortlisted. So had turned down a request to perform for the audience, and had chosen a somewhat subdued look, in a deep blue suit with a lace top underneath. Still, Regina had gone slack-jawed when Emma had strolled into the bathroom to help her with her necklace clasp. And it made Emma feel incredible. Quite how Regina was able to undo her with just a look, a whole year down the line, she would never quite understand. There could be an entire stadium full of tens of thousands of people there for just her, and yet Regina, and Regina alone, was able to make her feel like the most important person on the planet. And as much as Emma found it incredible - and a little bit unbelievable, after living so long by and for herself - she was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

 

Her own mouth had gone dry when Regina had put the last of her look together and strutted into their bedroom. Somewhere between ‘black tie’ and ‘red carpet awards event,’ Regina had clearly lost the ‘work awards’ memo. In an effort to remind Emma of the first time they had met, Regina had managed to have a custom dress made in exactly the same shade of red, with cutaways and translucent sections across her gorgeous torso in the same manner that that corset had displayed Regina’s figure at its best. It was truly mouthwatering.

 

And if Emma felt the heads turn even more than usual when they finally waded their way through the amassed cameras and into the large balcony above the ballroom where the awards were being held, she knew that nobody was looking at her. She had never felt prouder to be anyone’s date, and she knew she was the envy of every other person in the room. 

 

And if she zoned out of Regina’s conversations with strangers a bit more than usual just to drink her in, she could not be held responsible.

 

It also wasn’t often that Emma Swan felt uneasy in a room of people. She had become so used to her every action being scrutinised that she seldom found herself off-kilter now. But watching Regina literally glide across the marble floors to talk to one person after another, Emma felt somewhat out of place. Sure, she looked the part, and Regina kept sending her covert smiles to tell her how proud she was that Emma was here and trying. And of course everyone was very polite and very complimentary of her art and her success. But most of the conversations boiled down to almost unintelligible legal jargon in the end, no matter how much Regina tried to translate for her. And as much as Regina’s smiles meant that she would rather be here than anywhere else, Emma felt as though she had suddenly changed into a suit that was a few times too big for all the discomfort she endured. 

 

But Regina was in her element. She had expected the fall out of the cubbyhole aftermath to have dampened her enthusiasm and her influence in these circles. But she’d kept her head down and worked just as hard as she had at her parents’ firm, and it had paid dividends. She had won a landmark case for a lesbian couple facing adoption discrimination alongside a number of other high-profile and successful ones. And the result was not only a nomination for Attorney of the Year, and Future Legal Leader, but also a full conversation card, especially with Emma by her side.

 

And for the first time in her life, Regina wasn’t anxious about taking a plus one. She knew Emma could get along with almost anyone, and that she would enjoy being together. And yeah, feeling the firm press of Emma’s hand on the small of her back as she spoke to friends, colleagues and strangers alike… well, it was something else compared to previous years. 

 

~.~

 

The hall itself was lavish, as one would expect from such an event, and they were both well into their third glass of sparkling wine when Regina suddenly stiffened under Emma’s fingers. 

 

“Everything ok?” Emma asked lowly into the soft spot behind Regina’s ear, so only she would hear the concern in her tone. She ran a soothing circle across Regina’s spine and waited for her to reply. 

 

She didn’t need to, in the end, because a couple strode into their space with purpose not two seconds later. The woman looked so similar to Regina that she couldn’t be anything other than her mother, but Emma could tell from their identical colouring that the man was Regina’s father. She stared with wide eyes into his, which were unsettlingly close to her very favourite pair. 

 

“You must be Mr and Mrs Mills,” Emma opened stiffly. She wasn’t unfriendly, but Regina heard the protectiveness in her voice for what it was. Regina herself had stilled completely, incapable of speaking now her parents were finally in front of her again after a full year of only communicating by stilted text messages on important days. 

 

“And you must be Regina’s good friend, the singer?” Cora preened, maintaining the charade despite Regina’s very public and very non-platonic relationship with the singer in question. 

 

“I am a singer, yes,” Emma replied, frantically searching Regina’s body language for how she wanted Emma to behave. She didn’t want to rock the boat if Regina wanted to salvage any chance at civility with her parents, but in the same breath she wanted nothing more than to take them both outside and see them hit the pavement. She opted for the former, swallowing her secondhand anger as she clenched her open fingers against Regina’s back. “You can call me Emma,” she offered politely. 

 

“It’s lovely to meet you, Emma. You can call us Henry and Cora. We are Regina’s parents,” Regina’s father said jovially - as if it wasn’t obvious to anyone with eyes. Emma couldn’t reconcile this jolly man with his wide grin and his clear ecstasy at seeing his daughter once more with the spineless coward who had not stood up for her when she needed him most. 

 

“It’s a family affair, then,” Emma continued, reaching for loose chains of small talk in lieu of being rude and dragging Regina away to talk to someone - anyone - else. 

 

The longer her girlfriend remained silent, the more Emma considered it. It seemed that Regina’s body was incapable of fight or flight and had settled on freezing, so Emma was carrying the incredibly stilted conversation whilst she waited for Regina to thaw.

 

“Yes, we are very proud of Regina,” Cora preened. “Such a talent, and we’re thrilled to see her recognized.”

 

It didn’t make sense. Had they invited themselves to force a reconciliation in public where Regina couldn’t make a scene? The idea tried the very last of Emma’s patience, and her tensing bicep against Regina’s side was enough to snap Regina out of her haze. 

 

“How dare you,” she threatened lowly. 

 

“Excuse me, young lady,” Cora replied, horrified. 

 

“How dare you perform your pride for the sake of appearances when you have told me on no uncertain terms that my very existence disgusts you,” Regina continued as if her mother hadn’t spoken. 

 

Emma squeezed her midriff, both in support and as a reminder that they were in a public room. So Regina’s next words were quieter than her last, but with no less conviction for what they lacked in volume.

 

“And how dare you call Emma my ‘good friend’ when it is very clear that we are here together. Romantically. As we have been doing everything for the past year. As a couple. In love.”

 

Emma’s heart pounded rhythmically in her chest. She had become somewhat used to Regina’s affirmations over the past year, but to hear her say she loved her with such rawness, in defence to her terrible, awful mother… it dissipated the hot anger and instantly replaced it with Regina’s own brand of warmth. 

 

Without thinking, and overcome with such a wave of emotion, Emma leaned into Regina’s side and placed a chaste kiss on her temple. It was her own way of saying the same thing back, and a small defiance to Regina’s mother which made Emma happier than she wanted to admit. Emma saw both parents’ reactions over the crown of Regina’s perfect head. 

 

Cora Mills’ face scrunched together like she had tasted acrid smoke as she watched the small display of affection between her daughter and the unconventional partner she had chosen. It made Emma want to linger, but she knew she had to behave herself. 

 

Henry, on the other hand, beamed at the evidence of his daughter’s happiness. He had seen Regina’s smile, and the way she leaned into the tall blonde at her side, and it reminded him of days gone by when Cora had been a little more open to the world, before years of defending the worst kind of people had twisted her into the difficult person she had become. And Henry wasn’t unable to see it, he still loved her, but his heart ached for simpler times when they had both been more carefree and easier in their affection.

 

Curious, Emma mused. 

 

“I am proud of you, mija,” Henry said gently, as though his fear of upsetting the apple cart was wringing his neck and preventing the sound from getting out. But it was sincere, and Regina could tell it. 

 

Cora, on the other hand, looked disappointedly at her husband. His betrayal, and in public no less, was insupportable. 

 

“For the event, we are proud of you for your success and bringing respect to the Mills family name,” she elaborated, her face sour as before. 

 

“No, Cora. For that, of course. But also for who you are,” her father affirmed. “I am just so sorry it took me so long to tell you.”

 

Regina felt the tears coming. She had never been good at staying angry with her father, and right now she needed anger. Her outrage made sense, and it was familiar. If she allowed him his pride, she could no longer remain indifferent, and she had to admit that the man who had once been her superhero was in fact deeply flawed and unable to fully protect her as he once had. 

 

She wanted to scream and rage and tell him that he had to earn the right to be proud of her again. She knew she should keep the distance until he truly understood the weight of what he had done. 

 

But here he was, her hero, extending an olive branch. And God, it had been a whole year since she had felt his strong arms around her, and smelt the comforting sandalwood of his cologne that reminded her of all of the times he had pieced her back together. 

 

She turned to Emma - beautiful, steadfast Emma - who had been waiting in the wings to catch her whatever happened. Emma smiled her encouragement, letting her know that it was entirely her choice how much of a relationship she wanted with either of her parents, and that she didn’t need to decide right here right now. 

 

“I can’t do this now,” she choked out, mostly in Emma’s direction, but loud enough that they would definitely hear. 

 

“That’s ok, love,” Emma said softly. 

 

“Best of luck with your category,” Emma offered resolutely, louder so the older Millses could hear her. “I’m afraid we are done here. But it’s been… enlightening.”

 

She could feel Regina’s shoulders trembling, fit to fall apart any second, and she flagged down her security detail to find them a quiet room somewhere behind the scenes. 

 

The lack of privacy had to come with some perks. 

 

~.~

 

It had taken around ten minutes for Regina to calm down, which in and of itself was remarkable. The way she was able to reign her emotions in on command was something Emma would never understand, let alone replicate. She had been given the privilege over the past year of seeing the wild and unmasked form of Regina Mills on a number of occasions when it had just been the two of them, and it was a truly beautiful sight for all its rarity. But Regina was extraordinarily good at forming herself into a restrained and professional mask whenever she needed to. And it made Emma's chest hurt to see Regina shrinking herself to make herself more palatable.

 

Then again, the clean and sharp version of Regina was pretty fucking hot, too. So it wasn't all bad.

 

“Are you sure you want to go back in there?” Emma asked, voice laden with infinite softness. “We can go home if you'd rather not have to deal with them.”

 

“No, no it's ok,” Regina mused. “We came to have a good time, to celebrate a year I'm actually really proud of-” 

 

Why did her traitorous voice break on that? Why was it so fucking hard to accept that she was skilled and had achieved great things?  

 

Her mother's poison rolled its discomfort in waves through her gut and she had her answer.

 

Emma nodded, and Regina found her voice again. 

 

“I don't want to give her the satisfaction,” Regina asserted.

 

“Ok,” Emma agreed. “That makes total sense. We’ll show them what a marvellous you they're missing out on. In any case, I'd much rather give you the satisfaction,” she added playfully, suggestively. 

 

Regina laughed affectionately, and Emma knew she was going to be ok. 

 

“As much as I am always up for receiving that from you, we’re going to miss dinner if I allow us that indulgence,” Regina replied, energy returning with every successive quiet moment in Emma's arms. 

 

Emma didn't look too disappointed with that idea, but she knew it was important to Regina, so she placed a chaste kiss on her lips and said no more. The kiss didn't stay chaste, because it never did when they were alone together.

 

“Mmmmmmm, no fair,” Regina complained breathlessly when they finally parted.

 

“If you want to start complaining about unfair temptation, I'm going to need you to look in a mirror,” Emma challenged, with the voice that completely ruined Regina whenever she used it. 

 

Regina swiped a lazy hand up and down Emma's figure in agreement. Her eyes undressed Emma without touching, and the air felt abnormally hot all of a second. 

 

“Um - fuck,” Regina stuttered, trying to gather her train of thought. As always, she was masked and mature in no time, leaving Emma even more aroused than she had been before. She bit her lower lip in concentration and Emma had to lock her fingers together behind Regina’s back to avoid doing something they would both regret. 

 

“Ok, you raised some salient points which we shall reconvene upon later,” Regina stated formally. It was a game she sometimes played, switching to her professional persona when things were getting a bit overheated. Nominally, it was intended to cool Emma down, but it always had the complete opposite effect. “But we are going to go back in there and enjoy our evening as loudly and unapologetically as we are able. I will not let my mother's bigotry ruin our evening. And I want everyone in there to know how wildly happy you make me, Emma Swan.”

 

And yeah, ok. Maybe Emma could get behind that. She could be patient and wait for the private morning at home that would follow their public display of happiness. 

 

“You make me so, so happy Regina,” Emma acquiesced.

 

Regina allowed herself one more kiss and a squeeze of Emma's hand before she asked Emma to fix her makeup and take her hand as they returned to face the music.

 

~.~

 

When they returned to the party, all evidence of Regina's distress had been wiped away and buried. Emma fetched them both another glass of prosecco and settled into her girlfriend duties as Regina once again claimed the room. As if Emma needed any more confirmation that she was head over fucking heels for this woman, the sheer competence and confidence with which she held herself would have won her over. 

 

And then the bell rang for the dinner, and Emma watched Regina descend the stairs into the ballroom with the grace of a queen. Her movements were smooth and unstilted, years of practice in high heels foregoing the need to even look down. In any case, Emma's arm was there should she need it.

 

They were seated near the front, on a table of partners at Regina's current law firm, and a couple of friends from her parents’ world who she had managed to keep in touch with. Kathryn had managed to make it at the last moment, husband in tow, and as Regina launched into conversation with her closest friend, Emma took a moment to take in their surroundings. A quick scan of the room revealed a grandiose stage with space and seating for a full band that would entertain everyone once the awards had been distributed. Emma was thrilled to see Regina's parents in a far corner of the room, relegated despite their prominence as no one from their firm had been shortlisted. Feeling easier, she allowed herself to join the conversation with Kathryn and Fred. 

 

Their conversation didn't let up for the entirety of the first two courses, as it had been much more difficult to find time together since Regina had moved firms. Emma found herself pleasantly engaged for the whole conversation, both with Kathryn’s friendly back-and-forth, but also with the view of Regina in profile.

 

Regina felt Emma's eyes on her, unmoving and heated throughout the whole dinner, and she enjoyed catching the blonde in the act on more than one occasion. But an action that would have once been embarrassing was completely the opposite now. Secure in their mutual desires, Regina basked in the attention. Sometimes she had to pinch herself to find reassurance that Emma was real, and hers. 

 

By the time Regina's first nomination was announced, they had made their way through a couple of glasses of wine each in addition to the prosecco at the drinks reception. Regina had deliberately not let herself get carried away just in case she was expected to head to the stage at any point. Emma had been slightly less restrained, and so perhaps her cheering was a little louder than was strictly polite. At least Kathryn got a kick out of Emma loudly declaring “that's my girlfriend” and pointing at the screen when Regina's likeness flashed up.

 

Regina blushed, a pink stain mottling across wide grinning cheeks, as she rolled her eyes playfully and squeezed Emma's bicep.

 

Emma's answering hum was a lot quieter, which Regina was grateful for. 

 

And when the announcer took to the podium, Regina saw a minor celebrity who she vaguely recognized, and then looked down at her plate as she felt the telltale signs of anxiety fighting to be known. Emma picked up on it, as she always did, and offered an outstretched hand which Regina took and squeezed firmly. She tuned out the rehearsed bio about the winner, lost in Emma's grin getting wider and wider. 

 

“And the winner of Future Legal Leader is,” came the booming voice again, pausing for effect. “-Regina Mills.”

 

Well, shit. 

 

That was kind of a big deal, wasn't it?

 

Emma was already on her feet, hauling Regina to a standing position whilst the stunned winner tried to restart her brain. Emma's grin looked like it was about to carve her face in two, and Regina basked in it, almost forgetting that she was meant to go and collect her award.

 

“I love you,” she enthused, lost in the joy of the moment. Emma's responding smile was somehow impossibly wider than even before, and Regina was drowning, drowning, drowning in the magic of Emma Swan at her most unguarded.

 

“I love you too,” Emma replied, throwing caution to the wind and kissing Regina. It was no less magnetic than any other that they had shared, and Emma felt herself losing all sense as Regina's lips moved against hers. She broke away quickly, and breathlessly reminded them both where they were. “I'm so proud of you, my darling.”

 

It didn't get better than this.

 

Emma remained standing for the entire time Regina walked to the stage, finally sitting down when Regina’s eyes sought her out in the crowd. 

 

Hands shaking, Regina gracefully accepted the award and leaned into the microphone to say a few words. And as she looked out on a sea of faces, she was instantly transported back to that night a year ago, her entire being frayed with nerves as she sung in front of a much smaller, much less well put-together room of people. But then, just like now, she held eye contact with Emma Swan and the rest of the room blurred into a watercolour background. 

 

She heard her own voice echoing as she started speaking, and hearing the feigned confidence that she did not feel gave her the momentum to continue. 

 

“Thank you so much for this recognition,” she began. “This year has been a rollercoaster for a number of reasons. I moved firms and found my passion in supporting people through their most vulnerable moments. And I found myself - well, I gave myself permission to be her. I’ve not stopped coming out since the very first day that I did, nearly two years ago now - first to myself, and then to my friends and loved ones. And it’s scary every time, but it also gives me so much strength, and so much courage, and so much joy. Because every time, I am choosing myself, regardless of what others may have to say about it. And all of that I’ve been able to put into my work, and I’ve been at my very best as a result. So I am very honoured to have made an impact and be receiving this award to celebrate that. But it’s not mine, not really. It’s for every single person who feels like they have something that they have to hide. For every person who isn’t able to be all that they are, at least not yet. The future is bright, and it is inclusive.”

 

She took a steadying breath, trying not to run away with her emotions. But the joy and power that she had found in the past year could not be downplayed, and Regina wanted to scream it to everyone who was willing to listen. 

 

She spared a glance towards the table at the back of the room where her parents were seated, and choked back a tear as she saw her dad still standing. He had his phone out, and she could make out the small pinpoint of the flash where he hadn’t quite got the hang of all of the controls. But it didn’t matter. The weight of the past twelve months were crushing, and Regina could hardly breathe in the vice grip of his love and the ghost of her heartbreak. 

 

He loved her. He still loved her. 

 

Cora Mills looked for all intents and purposes as though she was being dragged slowly and painfully through a hedge maze, looking everywhere but the stage and putting on a brave face. But pinching herself as to where she was, Regina knew it wasn’t important. She didn’t need her mother like she once used to. 

 

Finally, her eyes drifted to their table again, first accepting the broad smile from her friend Kathryn, and then at last settling on Emma’s figure. She was crying, perfect tears streaming down her perfect cheeks as she held her chest as if trying to contain a heart that was fighting to reach the sky. 

 

“None of this would have been possible without Emma Swan. Yes, that one,” she joked, hearing an answering rumble from the audience. “The catalyst to my becoming, and the love of my life.”

 

Emma was on her feet again, applauding loudly and welling up again with the force of her pride. She watched with hungry eyes as Regina descended the steps from the stage and was escorted off to one side for a round of photographs with the host and presenter. Kathryn, noting Emma’s longing and uncertainty, leaned across Regina’s empty seat and murmured in a low voice. 

 

“I think you can join her if you’d like, Emma.”

 

God, she would very much like. 

 

~.~

 

They had managed to escape the next couple of rounds of awards, sneaking off once again with the support of Emma’s security detail. 

 

“We should get back,” Emma stated reluctantly around ten minutes after they’d left the photographer and the very polite minor celebrity, who had been more excited to see Emma than Regina had been to meet them. 

 

“But I don’t want to,” Regina responded stubbornly.

 

“It’s nearly time for your other round,” Emma reminded her gently as her hand traced indecent circles over the curve at Regina's chest. “And I want to hear another pretty speech like that last one.”

 

Regina blushed prettily, still uncomfortable under Emma’s compliments. 

 

“I might need to steal some of it for my next tour,” she reflected quietly. “The whole room was silent, Regina. I swear you could’ve heard a pin drop. There’s so few people with the guts to stand up for what they believe in, and you did so so eloquently. I don’t think you’ve ever been more attractive.”

 

“Really, not even that time we did the mud spa?” Regina teased, laughing herself at the memory of turning into a swamp-like being. 

 

“Maybe not during, but you have a fair point. The glow of your gorgeous skin after you washed it all off…” Emma trailed off just thinking about it. 

 

This was a dangerous conversation if they actually wanted to make it back to the ceremony. 

 

“Now there’s a thought,” Regina mused openly. She licked her lips and migrated her own hands under Emma’s waistband to tease with a feather-light touch at her perfect ass. 

 

“One to hold,” Emma reminded her.

 

“I’d rather hold you, right now,” Regina challenged, that dangerous fire in her eyes telling Emma that she was in serious trouble. 

 

“But how will it look if you don’t return when your name is announced?” Emma insisted. 

 

“If,” Regina interjected. “If I win, then my parents will know that I found something much better than the stuffy awards which they care so much about to entertain me.”

 

God, it was tempting, 

 

“After,” Emma reiterated. “I’m not dealing with the PR fallout - both with my management and your parents - of me corrupting you like that.”

 

“Funny that you assume you’re the one doing the corrupting,” Regina teased, that low edge to her voice flip-flopping Emma’s insides again. 

 

Emma glanced between them, caught somewhere between exasperated and turned on. 

 

“Let’s go and watch you win a stupid award,” she grumped playfully. 

 

“Um, I’ll have you know these are a very well-respected set of awards that could fast-track a person’s career, thank you very much,” Regina feigned indignance with equal silliness. 

 

“As if you need a fast pass to success,” Emma rolled her eyes, but there was nothing dismissive about it. 

 

Regina worried her lower lip, and admired Emma through her lashes.

 

“Well, for the benefit of the doubt,” Emma said softly, stepping as close to Regina as the space allowed and all but whispering in the stillness of their stolen moment. “You are the most remarkable person I have ever met. And I will never stop being amazed by all that you achieve. But more importantly, I will never stop being proud of who you are.”

 

Regina kissed her, a nonverbal recognition of  her impassioned words. Emma’s hands were suddenly tangling in Regina’s hairline as she tried to ignore the weight of the small velvet box that was sitting under her side of the mattress. There would be time for that later. Tonight was Regina’s night, and whether she won the final award or not, Emma was determined that there would be no distractions from celebrating her girlfriend’s fabulousness. 

 

~.~

 

Nobody was surprised when Regina was called to the stage for a second time. But when Regina refused to drop Emma’s hand and all but dragged her onto the stage with her, there were more than a few laughs from the audience. Emma didn’t pay the laughter any mind. In fact, it was quite hard to pay anything any mind with an unobstructed view of Regina’s ass in that dress ahead of her. Alcohol making her bolder than she would have otherwise been, she allowed herself the steady touch on Regina’s lower back which had both of their breath hitching.

 

It was the award of the night, with finalists from all other categories as stiff competition, and it was obvious that Regina was somewhat overwhelmed by the weight of the praise. She looked at Emma, begging her silently to speak whilst she tried to find her own voice. 

 

“Thank you all for being so patient with the slew of fantastic speeches and brilliant achievements this evening,” Emma started. The room felt like it breathed a collective sigh of relief at Emma’s obvious experience behind a microphone. “We won’t keep you from the after party with a long and meandering speech,” she promised. “But it would be remiss of me not to echo our hosts and say what a huge achievement this is.”

 

She turned to Regina, all showmanship disappearing from her tone as she spoke with feeling to her partner.

 

“Regina, you deserve every single good thing that comes your way. I see you working your ass off every day, and I see the care you put into everything you do. It is a pleasure and a privilege to know you, and to be loved by you. And I am so excited to see what you do next. I am so lucky to be invited along for the ride.”

 

There was a raucous cheer from the room in response, and Regina unceremoniously hauled Emma’s face to her own. She knew there was a room of people, that it wasn’t professional, that her mother would die to see it. But somehow all of that faded into the background with the loud focus on Emma’s declarations and all that they made Regina feel. 

 

She couldn’t add anything more profound, or more moving than anything that Emma had said. It felt like a victory lap, a return to how they had both started with unexplainable heat arcing between them in front of a room of onlookers. But this time, there was so much mutual understanding, the feeling of being known by each other, and seen by each other, that Regina could’ve exploded with it. 

 

She didn’t, instead pulling back long before she was truly ready to do so, and squeezing Emma’s hand as she spoke to her silently with wild eyes. All of her love, all of her happiness was laid bare on her face. No matter the fact that this would almost certainly hit the news in the morning, or that Emma’s passionate speech would be repeated to Regina every time she opened up her instagram for days afterwards. Something which once scared her was now a mere afterthought in the margins as she allowed herself to be herself and to find her joy. 

 

There was nothing, and no one, who could possibly stop this feeling. The world could stop and Regina would find a way to carry on drowning in it. Regina knew she would be feeling it, floating on the heady fumes of their happiness for the whole evening and far beyond. Because Emma Swan had taken every messy part of her, all of her lingering grief and all of her self-doubt, and used her talents and her compassion to turn it into something beautiful, until Regina thought she might actually one day believe her. 

 

And here it was, that magical day where she allowed herself to dip her toes and then dive headfirst into it, into her .

 

~.~ 

Notes:

There you go, you got some proper fluff at last!!

Thanks for reading this all the way to the end. This has been the single most challenging thing I've ever written - with plot bunnies and writers block abound. But I really enjoyed it all the same - hope you did too!