Chapter Text
“You can, uh, take my bed. If I’m back before you’re up, I’ll just crash on the couch.” Emma rubbed the back of her neck to distract her hands from fidgeting. When Regina’s mouth opened to protest, the blonde cut her off before she could start, “And both of us know that my own couch doesn’t even rank on the worst places I’ve slept. It’s cool, Regina. Take the bed.”
Regina looked around the mostly barren apartment, a stark difference from the loft she’d lived in a few short months ago. A few pictures adorned table spaces and one large print of Emma and Henry hung in the living room, a memento from their fairytale-free time in New York. Their smiles strikingly similar and eyes worry free as Emma tackled Henry in the photo. The mayor’s heart clenched at the year of Henry’s life she’d missed out on.
“So, I’ve gotta get back to the station.” Emma’s voice snapped Regina out of her thoughts. “My boss is kind of a stickler for deadlines and paperwork and I wouldn’t want to piss her off.”
“Yes, well, I’m sure doing your job for once will absolutely delight your boss, who sounds lovely, by the way.” The mischief in Regina’s eyes matched that of Emma’s before she yawned and ruined the effectiveness of her wit.
“And here I thought of my mother’s 7 friends, you and Grumpy were the most alike. Let’s get you to bed, Sleepy.” Emma grabbed the older woman’s bag from where it rested against her leg.
“At least I’m not Dopey.” Regina yawned again, but not before sending a pointed look at Emma. “And despite my exhaustion, I can indeed still carry my suitcase, Ms. Swan,” the brunette snapped, taking her belongings from the blonde.
Emma bit her tongue to refrain from telling Regina how weak her retort was and offered a small, “Suit yourself.” She watched the woman look around uncomfortably for a few moments before realizing she’d never been in her new apartment before. “It’s down the hall and to the left.”
“Right. Well, best of luck with that paperwork, Sheriff. I’ll put in a good word with the mayor so she doesn’t yell at you tomorrow.” The brunette grinned, sleepily.
“Good night, Regina. I’ll see you tomorrow- er, today. I’ll see you later.”
-
Despite her exhaustion, sleep eluded Regina. Being alone in the blonde’s space, more specifically her bed, had the brunette on edge. Rolling to her right side for the sixth time, she huffed, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to get the rest she so desperately wanted. She pushed herself up to rest her back against the wall and fiddled with the comforter across her legs. The olive sheets were far below the thread count Regina was used to, but knowing they were Emma’s brought a certain comfort.
Giving up on sleep, Regina slid her legs out from the warmth of the sheets and her feet met cool hardwood. Flicking on the bedside lamp, she noticed the few pictures Emma had resting on her nightstand. A small smile stretched across as she examined equal expressions in the mother and son. Memories of celebration dinners at Granny’s after each broken curse or fulfilled rescue mission. Small moments, between big bads and the evils that awaited at seemingly every corner, when the blonde and her recently found family could just share time together, free of worry and fighting. Her eyes lingered on the unadulterated joy behind green ones for a bit longer than she usually allowed herself.
Her eyes flicked down to two photos yet to be framed.
Sometime during the drive back from New York, Henry had decided their excursion was a road trip and should be celebrated thusly. Which, of course, meant that the seven and a half hour drive turned into 9 before they’d even left the city, with Henry’s argument that, “Ma, you have all of mom’s memories, so we should give her some of ours!” and therefore an immediate detour to see the Statue of Liberty. Neither driver nor passenger complained as their son directed them through a scenic tour “Must-See East Coast Destinations,” mostly out of sheer relief to have him back.
So by the time they’d made their way through several small coastal towns, all boasting to have “The World’s Greatest,” of something (which Regina pointed out the world didn’t need at all, much less a greatest version of,) the sky was slowly being painted with vivid pinks and oranges and the realization that the 4 of them had yet to even make it through Massachusetts set in. They were around 20 miles outside of Boston, and apparently Emma knew of a decent hotel they could stay in for the night.
On the way to their home for the night, both Emma and Henry’s stomachs began to protest their hunger, and the nearest restaurant was a diner akin to Granny’s. As they’d been seated, Henry and Violet slid into the same side, much to Regina’s vexation. It was then that Henry snapped a photo of his mother’s pointed look and eye roll she had hoped only his other mother could see.
“Henry, let me see that,” his younger mother had scolded, snatching the phone from their son’s hands. In response to his protest, she’d stuck out her tongue and smiled at Regina. Her finger quickly flicked through the photos Henry had taken throughout their trip but stilled instantly as she took in one of them.
They’d stopped at a beach near the highway in Connecticut, allowing Henry and Violet to explore the aquatic life and dip their feet in the ocean. Emma and Regina stood side by side and finally allowed themselves to feel the relief of having their son back. Unbeknownst to the two, Henry had captured one of their silent looks of thanks to each other, one that communicated how grateful each was to have the other in that moment.
At least, that’s how the moment had been intended. When Regina peered over the blonde’s shoulder to see the cause of her hesitation, her heart quickened at the expressions on each of their faces.
Before either could examine the moment any further, Emma thrust the phone back at their son.
“Cool shots, kid,” she’d said, giving him a quick smile. As she’d glanced back at Regina, they both heard the shutter of Henry’s phone, but it was Regina this time who demanded the device. It wasn’t returned until the end of their meal.
Emma must have sent the photos to herself and had them printed. Regina’s finger traced over the pictures, in deep consideration of the drastically different emotions captured in the two. In the first, as both blonde and brunette hair whipped around both of them in the wind, eyes squinted to block out its harsh cold, there were two mothers. The small smiles offered as gratitude for each helping to find their precious son communicated trust, thanks, and something more that Regina couldn’t place. The second captured the two of them in a moment where little else existed. A bustling diner behind them, but the space between filled with vulnerability, a shared understanding of unvoiced questions.
Regina remembered how quiet they’d both been the rest of the night. Silent tension had filled the air as they’d prepared for bed in the one-room hotel. The low hum of the HVAC unit filled the small space as each member settled into their long-discussed sleeping arrangements. With two beds and a pull-out couch, someone was going to be a little uncomfortable. Both mothers decided they could share the small space for a night, though probably only to end the discussion as quickly as possible.
The brunette never voiced her concern when, after the blonde was sure her travelling companions had dozed off, she escaped the covers she’d shared with Regina to head outside. She’d paused in slipping on her boots to watch their son’s slow and steady breathing. Regina had watched as she gently squeezed the foot that hung off the edge of the futon, before tiptoeing toward the door and softly creaking it open.
She’d sat up in alert when she heard the unmistakable sound of the bug’s door being shut, because no other car door needed to be slammed that hard to close fully. When she’d peeked out the window, though, she only saw the blonde’s head disappear as she reclined the seat.
And in the morning, when Emma walked into the hotel with cocoa and donuts, greeting three sleepy-eyed brunettes with a bright smile, Regina knew it wasn’t something they were going to talk about.
Regina flipped the photos over and pushed herself off the bed, now fully accepting that sleep would not be taking place that night, at least not in this room. She grabbed one of the many throws that Emma kept at the foot of her bed and padded through to the living room. Looking to distract her mind, she flicked on the television and dropped herself onto the couch. She smiled when the screen opened onto Cartoon Network. She figured Henry had been the last to watch the TV, but her smile grew wider when she considered Emma could’ve been curled on the couch watching the juvenile animations.
She punched in the channel number for Food Network and curled herself against the arm of the couch. As her eyelids grew heavier, she grabbed her phone to set an alarm to awake her before the end of the sheriff’s shift, knowing that the answer to why she was asleep on the couch wasn’t one she or Emma were ready to consider yet.
Finally, as her mind was on the precipice of turning off for the night, she began to wonder why Emma had the pictures on her nightstand in the first place. She drifted off before any more thought could be given to it.
-
So, maybe offering for Regina to stay at her place wasn't the best idea Emma's ever had, but given the quality of the cup of coffee the brunette had just handed her, it couldn't be the worst.
Her night had been quiet, once again making Emma wonder why night patrol was even necessary. The lack of excitement had given way for Emma’s thoughts to wander. She considered her history with the woman she assumed to be currently asleep in her bed. Although their recent interactions didn’t hold the fire they once did, their cooperation (because Emma knew labeling it a friendship would earn her an eye roll at best and a fireball at the worst) was iffy. Inviting the brunette to room with her for an indefinite period of time probably wasn’t Emma’s most thought-through decision.
When she’d made her way home a little after 6, Emma expected to walk into a dark and silent apartment. Instead, warm and inviting smells made her mouth water and the sound of something sizzling invaded her senses.
A shy smile appeared from the woman behind the stove. With one hand, the brunette was pushing around eggs with a spatula, and the other reached to grab a mug from the counter. She held a steaming cup toward the blonde who remained in the doorway.
“I made you decaf,” she said, setting the mug on the bar.
“Oh, yeah, thanks. I didn’t think you’d be up this early,” Emma finally made her way through the door and clicked it shut behind her. She popped herself on the counter space next to the stove and grabbed the mug from behind her. Humming as the rich flavors filled her mouth, she quickly swallowed before looking down at Regina, “What’re you making?”
“I hope scrambled’s okay. I also made some French Toast. I wanted to make cinnamon rolls but your grocery selections hindered my options,” the look the brunette gave her told Emma how disappointed she was with the state of Emma’s pantry.
“I haven’t been shopping in a while,” the blonde lowered her head and muttered, knowing the brunette would dismiss her excuse before she even began.
“Ms. Swan, there’s not a single vegetable in this apartment.”
“Did you ever consider that I love vegetables so much that I eat them first and then all that’s left is junk food?” Emma turned her head to challenge the older woman.
Without looking up from the still-cooking eggs, Regina replied, “Indeed I did. However, when I saw you were keeping 4 different kinds of cheese and a case of beer in your produce drawer, I quickly dismissed the idea.” She looked up from the skillet, giving a smirk to assure the blonde she wasn’t totally serious. “While I’m mostly, how would you put it, giving you shit, I do think your diet might benefit from a little more green every once in awhile. Not to mention our son’s.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll add some healthy crap to the list,” the blonde smirked back. She watched the brunette plate the eggs she’d been cooking and uncover a plate of toast. “So, how come you’re up? I would’ve thought you’d sleep in as long as possible this morning.”
“Well,” Regina said, placing two pieces of French toast onto each plate and sliding both onto the bar, “I suppose my body’s just used to waking up at this time. Some of us aren’t afforded the luxury of sleeping in, regardless of how long we slept.”
Emma’s lie detector picked up on something in the brunette, but she decided not to push it. She grabbed a piece of toast off one of the plates and brought it to her mouth before catching Regina’s expression. At the warning, she set it back down, sliding off the counter. “Okay, mom .” Emma pulled a barstool out and plopped into it. She considered what had just transpired for a moment, “Actually, no, this is my apartment, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“I never said a word, Ms. Swan.” Regina smiled into her own sip of coffee.
“Yeah, well, you thought it.” Emma yawned into her bite of eggs.
“If you’d like, I can cover the rest of that and leave it in the fridge. You look worn out.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Emma yawned again as she pushed her plate away. Sliding out of her seat, her feet slapped against the hardwood. “Good night, Regina,” she smiled and yawned again.”
“Good night, Emma. Sleep tight.” She watched the blonde walk heavy-footed through the hallway and, just as she was about to turn back to her breakfast, the blonde sleepily began pulling off her shirt, leaving a well-defined back covered only by a sports bra to Regina’s wide eyes. She blinked hard and quickly spun around in her seat.
“What the hell have I gotten myself into.”