Work Text:
It was a warm spring day in Storybrooke. Emma was sat at her desk, playing a game of trashcan basketball when Regina appeared. She did that a lot. One minute Emma was simply minding her own business and in the next, she was neck deep in someone else's because Regina would arrive to drag her into whatever piece of havoc she'd uncovered recently.
Just once she'd like that not to be the case but from the look on Regina's face, she knew. "Madam Mayor," she said, lowering the hand poised to throw the paper projectile across the room. The face screamed immutable rage. She'd be terrified if not for the softening around those eyes. "How can I help you today?"
"Hook," Regina spat and Emma cringed. It was never good when she mentioned the ex-boyfriend. "He had the gall— the gall to suggest that I… that I…"
"Yes?" Emma prompted, leaning forward in her chair, the immutable rage not so immutable after all as it crumbled into a look of distress.
"He said…" Sighing, her shoulders slumped and Regina fell into the chair opposite her, voice barely above a whisper. "He thinks I'm in love with you."
Lashes fluttering, Emma blinked slowly and sat back, watching her. There were a variety of expressions; from that rage and distress to hesitation, to realization and guilt, to hope— to something else. Something Emma thought she understood but refused to assume aloud.
Was this a revelation, to her? Not exactly. She'd had her suspicions since the Underworld. Maybe even before that. She didn't think it was love, exactly, but it was something that looked a lot like it if you knew how to peel back the layers to find what was hidden underneath. There was a reason they argued so often, a reason for the closeness between them— a reason that explained exactly why that closeness needed to be there because while Regina might disagree, seeped in denial as she was, it wasn't because they hated each other.
If that was all it was, it certainly didn't explain why it still remained true to this day. Even as friends they argue. It was never anything big, like with Henry, but it continued to happen, and sometimes for no apparent reason beyond too many days having passed since they'd last had that closeness between them.
"Why are you not saying anything?"
Dragging her gaze from where it landed over Regina's shoulder throughout her inner musing, Emma cocked her head to the side. What was she supposed to say? You are in love with me, and I'm in love with you too? How was that going to go when this was her reaction to someone else telling her? Regina was on the verge of a mental breakdown and she expected her to say something?
Fingers tapping the arm of her chair, she averted her gaze once more, torn between screaming at Regina to open her damn eyes and brushing it all off. She could laugh—tell her to ignore Killian and his stupid big mouth. Maybe she could change the subject, find out how they'd even gotten to this topic in the first place, but then, she had her suspicions there too. Regina hated him, never thought he was good enough and antagonized him on Emma's behalf whenever possible. It wouldn't surprise her to know they were still doing it. In fact, she knew they were still doing it because she'd walked in on them often enough.
The closeness didn't exist between them. Often, they'd be standing on opposites sides of the room, yelling at one another as though there couldn't possibly be enough distance between them.
Swallowing, she forced their eyes to meet and questioned, "What do you want me to say, Regina?" Why even come to her? Why not pretend Killian hadn't said a thing and just forget it ever happened? "Do you want me to tell you you're not, is that it?"
"Why wouldn't you?" She growled, "I'm not in love with you."
Emma winced. Her lie detector pinged but it still hurt to hear. She shook her head and said, "I can't do that."
She winced again when Regina rose, palms slamming down on the top of her desk as she spat, "Why the hell not?"
Emma closed her eyes and took a breath. She was going to murder Killian after this. She was going to make it as slow and as painful as she possibly could.
Eyes opening, she exhaled, then replied softly, "Because then I'd be lying too."
Regina looked at her like she'd grown a second head. She promptly fell back in to her chair, mouth gaping and wide eyed. Emma dropped her head back and stared up at the ceiling, expecting Regina to teleport away any minute now.
Minutes passed until the silence stretched on for so long that she began to wonder if enough of them had passed for it to be time to go home. She glanced at the clock, then let out a sigh. It'd only been fifteen minutes. She didn't know if it was good or bad that Regina was still there. She was most likely brooding if Emma bothered to lift her head and look.
She couldn't be bothered.
Looking back up at the ceiling, she began counting the tiles. It was soothing, familiar from all the hours she'd spent at the station doing that exact thing whenever she was bored.
She was bored, frequently.
"I am in love with you."
The words were so soft, so unexpected that her head snapped up suddenly. The blood rushed from the top of her head, making her dizzy. She shook it, hoping to banish the spots starting to cloud her vision.
As the last faded, her mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Regina was staring at her, her expression now patient. Was she waiting for Emma to say it back? Wasn't that a little—fast? Presumptuous? Maybe she'd misheard and Regina meant it as a question?
"You are?" When she frowned, Emma wanted to smack herself in the face. She cleared her throat. "I mean…" That was it? She'd been seconds away from a breakdown when she arrived and now, after only a few minutes, she'd process and accepted it? "You uh… you didn't believe Killian, why are you accepting it from me?"
The frown deepened before Regina replied, "You don't lie to me."
And that— well. That was true. It wasn't always, but in recent years, she tended to avoid it if she could help it. She attributed lying to Regina as akin to lying to someone on their deathbed; the very idea of it was too immoral to even contemplate.
"Okay?"
Regina inclined her head, then sat up straight, hands folded in her lap. She raised a brow and questioned, "Is this something I need to deal with on my own?"
Emma blinked, understanding dawning. "Um… no? I—" She huffed and hoped she wasn't about to make an idiot out of herself. "I'm… kind of in love with you too?"
"Good."
Good? That was it?
Stuck on the word, Emma didn't notice her move but upon feeling the presence beside her, she tilted her head back. Regina smiled before bending down, her lips feather light against Emma's cheek.
"I believe it time we had a talk," she said, standing taller as she straightened. "I expect to see you at my door when your shift ends, Miss Swan."
And just like that, she was gone.
Gaze fixed to the ceiling, her magic invaded Emma's senses and she started to smile.