Chapter Text
Emma gave the knob to the Mayor's office door a rough thrust, but it was locked.
"Gina? I know you're in there. I can see the lights on." She let out a puff of air and stepped back from the door, pressing her palm against it to keep a connection.
Her voice softened, like she knew the other woman was crumpled against it on the other side.
"I know this is all complicated, but you can have happiness. I know it doesn't seem like it, but you just have to… fight."
Emma waited a beat, undeterred by the silence.
"OK, if you won't, I will. Henry brought me to Storybrooke to bring back the happy endings. My job's not done until I do that for everyone… including you."
She started to leave to leave, but then she heard a sniff and a sigh and froze.
And in a whisper—a voice softer and more dulcet than she thought the mayor possessed—her name was exhaled from the other side of the door.
"Miss Swan?"
"I'm here," she answered back softly.
"Stay."
Whether it was a request or a command didn't matter, and Emma sunk down so they sat back to back with just the two inches of door separating them.
A minute went by in thick quiet, and Emma started to wonder if they were just going to sit there in silence. But then, Regina spoke, her voice tentative. "Can I ask you something?"
"Yeah. Say whatever you want."
"Why do you care about this? And don't say it's because of Henry."
"No, it's not because of Henry. I just... I want you to be happy."
"Fine, but why?"
"Because I… I just…" God, why was this so hard? Before Emma could answer herself or Regina, she felt the door slide slowly open behind her. Regina was on her feet, looking down at Emma with red-rimmed eyes. She reached her hand out to help Emma up.
Emma took it and stood, slowly, but she couldn't meet Regina's eyes, fearing that laser-beam gaze that always seemed to pierce straight through her clothes, her skin, her flesh, and into her soul.
Regina gave Emma's hand a slight tug and pulled her inside the office, leaning her back against the door to shut it.
"Because you just what?" She cocked her head to the side, dipping down to catch the blonde's eyes. Emma pursed her lips, trying to will the words not to come while Regina's eyes dared them to do the opposite.
"Miss Swa—no, Emma. You came here for a reason. You say you care about my happiness. If you want me to believe that, then just tell me why. Why are you here? What do you want?"
"I can't. If I say the words out loud, everything will change," Emma said, more to herself than to Regina.
"Would that be so bad?" Regina whispered back.
"It could be." For a moment they stood with two feet of air between them—it was a chasm that held an infinite amount of fear and uncertainty.
But then, Regina looked up at Emma, and like her fingers were acting of their own volition, dragged a forefinger across Emma's forehead and pushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. It was a small movement, really, but given their history, given the weight of the moment… it was everything. The physical connection and the sweetness of gesture helped Emma find her words and the courage to deliver them.
"Yes, I think this could be bad. Really bad. I think if there's an ocean of bad, I could drown in it. But I'm going to say it anyway because sometimes I feel like I'm going to lose myself in the unspoken words between us anyway."
Her eyes, which had been cast down at her hands finally sought Regina's eyes. She straightened up, steeling her spine, fixing her jaw. "I want you to be happy because you deserve it, but the thing is, Regina, I want you to be happy with me… because I deserve it." Regina's eyes widened, and Emma put up her hands, asking for her patience. "I didn't bring Marian back because of my feelings or jealousy or whatever. I really didn't know. But if I am being honest with myself—honest with you—you make me feel complete in a way that no one else in the world ever has. Even when I'm hating you, I'm in it, you know? You make me feel present, rooted, alive, content. You make me feel… you make me feel… Well, the thing is, you make me feel."
Regina waited to see if Emma was finished her confession, quirking an eyebrow to see if it was her turn to talk.
"So you're saying you care for me? You want to try to be friends?"
Emma shook her head. "No. I mean yes. Of course I want to be your friend. But it's more than that. I, I—god, Regina, please don't hate me or use this against me—"
"Say it, Emma."
"I dream about you—about having things with you that I've never even wanted before. Like, I dream about feeling your lips on my shoulder when I first open my eyes in the morning. I want to fight with you—but about why I forgot to run the dishwasher and that I forgot our anniversary—not about Henry or Robin or being an Evil Queen or heart crushing or whatever. But also, I know you. I know who you are, and I accept that. God—I love that. I know you've done things that you're not proud of that are truly terrible, but I don't really care about any of that. And anyway, I've done things too, and I sometimes feel you're the only one that makes my darkness feel ok. I just, I love—"
Regina, who had just been standing, somewhat slack jawed, staring at Emma, finally found the ability to power her brain, to give her body commands. And before another syllable could leave Emma's mouth, the mayor stepped into her space and placed a finger over her lips.
"You'd forget our anniversary?" Regina said, raising an eyebrow.
Emma broke out in a fully lit smile. "That's what you got out of that. Out of everything I just said to you—"
Regina pushed the last of the air between them out of the way, pressing her full lips against Emma's. She kissed her, trying to convey that she had heard her and that she felt it, too. But then she pulled her lips away and did what felt to Emma like the most intimate act of all. She reached her arms around Emma's slim waist, locking her hands to her elbows to show she had no intensions of leaving. Regina buried her face into the crook of her neck, nuzzled her nose into the space next to her collarbone. "I dream about you, too," Regina said into her skin.
"Emma pulled back, just enough to see her eyes. "You do?"
"Yes, I think the reason I hated you so much is because you made me feel, too. Because no one challenges me, but you do. You're so brave. And because you look at me, and I know you really see me, and that makes me look at myself. Which terrifies me. It makes me hate you. But also, I love you."
Tears sprung to Emma's eyes. "What? You do? But Robin?"
"Was a distraction. A consolation. I didn't think you could ever… I hadn't even let myself think it. I couldn't."
"We are so dumb," Emma said, and Regina let out a low laugh.
"Yes, we are. But what do we do now?"
"Well, tell me more about these dreams."
"I don't want to do this here. Can we go somewhere?" Emma said, her voice teetering between forlorn and hopeful.
Regina regarded Emma's face for a moment before responding. "Yes, but what are we doing?"
"I don't know. I feel like we punctured a balloon. I want to say everything before all the air flies out. Before something happens to take away this moment."
"Emma, I think everything has been building toward this moment. Everything makes sense now. Nothing will take it away."
"OK, but can we go sit somewhere? I just want to really talk to you, and this setting feels a little sterile."
Regina nodded and took Emma's hand. In a haze of purple smoke, the pair was suddenly poofed to Mifflin Street, sitting on the floor side by side with their legs outstretched in front of the couch by a crackling fire.
"Better," Regina asked.
"Yes, wow, yes."
"So how long have you—"
"Why do you think we never—"
They started in at the same time, and Emma blurted out a crude laugh, causing Regina to break out in a giggle. "This is going to be weird, isn't it?" Regina said.
"Maybe, a little, but honestly I feel so relieved. I feel like I finally told a secret I've been keeping for so long, and it feels amazing to just have said it out loud."
"I feel the same way," Regina said. "But honestly, I don't think I even consciously knew how I really felt until you said it. I always put so much of my energy into resenting you for everything, feeling threatened by you, that I don't think I realized how much I cared for you, how important you've become to me."
"Not me. I've known for a while. And I think about it all the time, like it's always on the tip of my tongue, but I never thought I'd get to actually tell you. Or if I did I just assumed you'd have me committed or something."
"Well, you are impulsive and impetuous sometimes," Regina said, but there was no edge to her tone and her cheeks were still stretched in an easy smile. "I just don't know where we go from here."
"You know what? Lets just stay in this moment. Lets not rewind or fast forward. Lets just stay right here, right now and see where that takes us. Is that ok?"
"Yes. But what would you like to do?" Regina said tentatively.
"Part of me wants to just talk to you—find out all the things about you that I thought I knew but I didn't come close to knowing because you wouldn't let me in that far." Emma was finding these little confessions easier an easier, like she was under the influence of the truth and how good it felt.
"And the other part?"
"God, Regina. I just want to hold you, kiss you, discover you. Are you feeling any of that or…"
Regina suddenly shifted up to her knees and put her hands on Emma's cheeks. She pulled the blonde's face toward her and just breathed her air. "The second one. OK?"
Emma sighed and puffed out a "yes" against Regina's lips.
They started kissing, just cells and molecules slipping against one another, feeling, exploring, gently, sweetly.
Emma pulled back. She raised her hand to Regina's mouth, whispering, "Can I just…" She traced her finger to the left side of Regina's lip where her scar resided. "I've wanted to kiss this spot for such a long time. I've thought it more times than I can remember," Emma said, almost dreamily.
"I guess you better do it then," Regina said softly. Emma just smoothed her lips back and forth over the spot, turning her head from side to side. And that's all it took. Regina felt a switch flick from somewhere deep within, and she pulled Emma toward her with vehemence, with assuredness, with passion. She slicked her tongue over Emma's, threaded fingers through her silky hair, cupped a cheek, palmed a breast. Regina and Emma traded moans and sighs. The heat between them became stinging—they both felt it.
Emma fought to find her wits. She'd wanted this for so long, but it was more than this, she realized.
"Wait. Wait. Regina," she said, breast heaving.
"Do you want to stop?" Regina said.
"No, God, no. I don't want to ever stop. But for me, this isn't about scratching an itch. I want to learn you. I want to know every part of you. Can we go slow? I want to remember every second of this."
Regina sucked in a breath at the sincerity, the sweetness of Emma's words. "I want that too. Come with me, OK?"
Regina reached out a hand, stood, and pulled Emma up. They walked hand in hand up the staircase, down the hall, and into the master bedroom.
Regina shut the door, and Emma flicked on the lights.
"Too bright?" Regina asked.
"No. I want to see every freckle. I'm going to memorize your curves and map out all of your skin with my fingers and then my lips. And then my tongue. So I need the lights on for this."
Regina just smiled. "Just kiss me, Emma."