Work Text:
The kitchen was bathed in the soft morning light. Regina Mills, standing by the coffee maker, drank her coffee slowly, still in her robe. Every sip of the steaming beverage was part of an indispensable ritual before facing the day. Today she had a meeting with Mary Margaret at the town hall—and God help her endure her mother-in-law for more than an hour. Henry had already left for school, leaving the house in silence.
She watched as Emma hurried into the kitchen with a suspicious smile, the kind that always promised trouble.
Regina set her mug down on the counter, crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow.
"I don't like that look on your face."
"You'll like the present," Emma assured her, approaching her wife with a twinkle in her eye and something hidden behind her back. She leaned in and left a chaste kiss on her wife's lips. "Good morning, dear."
"It's not my birthday," Regina replied, taking the box that was handed to her. She opened it carefully and pulled out a light beige blouse printed with drawings of galloping horses. Holding the garment with two fingers, as if it were covered in dust and cobwebs, she examined it in silence before murmuring:
"Are these... horses?"
"They are! Look how pretty!" Emma enthused. "It has a kind of country-chic vibe, a mix of 'alternative reading teacher with a secret farm.' Totally you."
Regina blinked, incredulous.
"I am not wearing this. Look, it's see-through."
"Chic."
"It has horses."
"Beautifully drawn ones!"
"This is tacky."
"This is conceptual rural art."
"I am not wearing this," she repeated, carefully laying the blouse over the back of a chair and crossing her arms again.
Emma let out a dramatic, resigned sigh, but was still smiling.
"Okay, fashion majesty. But if you ever want to look casually powerful and strangely adorable at the same time… there you go."
With a gesture, she pointed towards the blouse on the chair back, then grabbed her keys from the counter.
"I'm heading to the station. See you later. Love you." She winked before heading out the door.
Regina remained looking at the garment. The horses did, in fact, have a certain elegance. The print of galloping horses wasn't that hideous, she had to admit. And the fabric… was absurdly soft.
"This is ridiculous," she grumbled, but picked up the blouse along with her mug and headed for the bedroom she shared with her wife, ready to get dressed for the town hall meeting.
Later, silence reigned in the house. Henry had gone out with some friends and Emma hadn't returned from the station yet.
Regina, fresh out of the shower, was getting ready to go out for dinner with Emma when she found herself staring at the blouse again.
The infamous blouse with the horse print.
It was folded carefully on the bed. Regina approached it slowly, muttering to herself:
"It's just a blouse. A tacky one, at that."
She picked up the fabric between her fingers. It was soft, irritatingly soft, one of those pieces that, if you put it on, you'd forget you were wearing it, it was so light. She huffed.
"Galloping straight into disaster, that's what this is."
Even so, minutes later, there she was: blouse on, carefully paired with a black leather skirt, heels, and a discreet gold necklace.
Looking at herself in the mirror, Regina made a face.
"I look like a riding instructor at a backyard fashion show."
Pause.
"But a very well-dressed instructor."
Another pause.
"That means nothing."
She ran her hands through her hair, deciding to leave it down and natural. And, without realizing it, she smiled. Not because she was dissatisfied with her reflection, but because of Emma's gesture. Because Emma had remembered. She remembered that Regina liked horses. That, as a child, they were one of the few joys she had had. Regina had mentioned Rocinante only a few times… but Emma had listened.
And that, well... that made the blouse seem a little less ridiculous. Or, at least, ridiculous in a bearable way.
The sound of the door opening brought her back to reality.
She turned around, startled.
Emma walked in distractedly, phone in hand.
"Hi, sorry, I'm running late..."
The sentence died in the air when her eyes landed on her wife. The phone slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor without her caring. The astonishment soon turned into a smile.
Before she could say anything, Regina raised her index finger towards Emma.
"I still think this blouse is a crime against fashion."
Emma bit her lip, trying to contain her smile.
"But you're wearing it."
"Only because it… goes with the skirt."
"Uh-huh. Whatever you say..."
"And the fabric is soft. Which means nothing."
"Got it."
Regina turned her back, pretending to look for something on a shelf that hadn't needed organizing for weeks.
"And just for the record... it didn't turn out as horrible as I imagined."
Emma approached slowly and, in a light tone, said:
"I just thought it was cute. It reminded me of you with the horses. I thought it might be something that... I don't know. That you wouldn't allow yourself to like, but maybe you would, if nobody was watching."
Regina didn't answer immediately. She just straightened a picture frame on the shelf that was already perfectly straight.
"Perhaps you're not wrong."
Emma smirked, closing the distance even more.
"What did you say?"
Regina rolled her eyes.
"Nothing."
Emma arched an eyebrow and took a step back, going to where the phone still lay on the floor. She picked up the device and held it up theatrically.
"You said I'm not wrong in a situation? Could you repeat that, please? Just so I can record it and use it in the future?"
Regina huffed, but the corner of her mouth almost revealed the smile she was holding back.
"I said for you to shut up, Swan."
Emma laughed. So did Regina, a little—and without showing it too much, as she still had a posture to maintain.
And the horses remained there, running across the light fabric, absurdly ridiculous and, at the same time, impossible to ignore. That day, Regina let them stay. Just for today. Just inside the house. Nobody needed to know.
They were so distracted, laughing and teasing each other, that they even ended up forgetting about the dinner reservation they had made.