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L is for the way you look at me
Regina Mills is a queen in more ways than one.
Right now, for instance, she's the queen of intensely staring hate rays at the back of someone's head.
Emma knows this is true because she can literally feel Regina's angry eyes scorching the back of her skull.
And if she didn't know that Regina had given up magic for Henry, she'd suspect that there was literal fire being thrown her way.
That's how intense it is.
Emma doesn't think she's ever hated someone as much as Regina hates her.
Except Neal when he abandoned her in prison. And one of the prison guards who always shoved her, even when she was eight months pregnant. And that asshole who scraped the side of her beloved bug with his keys last week. And whoever decided to take the last bear-claw when everyone knows Ruby saves it for her. And Regina, she almost forgot, she also hates Regina.
Ugh Regina. That woman is so...frustrating. With her shiny black hair, and her perfect suits, and her "you don't want less forms Miss Swan, you want fewer". Emma's clearly trying to complain about her workload, and what role does grammar have in that?
Regina who makes her kid sandwiches, and homemade cookies, and never ever cries, except when Henry hurts himself or disappears and then she's teary-eyed but she holds it in because she's strong for the kid and yeah--Emma hates Regina.
She spins around on her stool to give the woman the evil eye and finds that Regina is...well, Emma isn't exactly sure what Regina is doing.
The woman is staring at her, that's for sure, her head tilted to the side, lips slightly pursed, a vague wrinkle on her brow.
But that vein in the middle of her forehead? The one that pulses when she's super pissed? It's not there.
And her eyes don't look mad so much as...Emma doesn't know.
But she's pretty sure if Regina Mills is staring at her that intensely it's got to be bad news. Right?
O is for the only one I see
Emma can't stop staring at Regina.
Whenever Regina enters a room, or Emma enters a room that Regina is already in, or...she just can't help it. Her focus is devoted to the other woman.
She's pretty sure she caught Regina sneaking a piece of chocolate out of her purse the other day.
It was during a town meeting that had somehow dissolved into a list of Whale's sexcapades, and normally she'd be totally interested (her mom not included, because ew), but then Regina had walked in.
She's pretty sure she still hates Regina but she also...she doesn't know.
When Regina came in late Emma assumed that she wanted to be the center of attention. Like at her parent's wedding, when Regina barged through the doors of the palace and declared their destruction. Emma has heard that story way too much now, thank you very much, and wishes that she had been born in the back of a van or something because maybe people would care less and not tell her the excitement of her "royal conception" a hundred more times. It's proving surprisingly hard to persuade the dwarves that she does not need to know about her parents' sex life.
But speaking of sex, they'd managed to make it all the way to woman number ten that Whale slept with during the curse, and all Emma could focus on is Regina.
And she realized suddenly that Regina was trying to do the opposite of what she'd suspected. The poor woman was trying to be subtle; sneaking in late, sliding into the back row. She wasn't even wearing heels.
Apart from one or two glares, and a whole row of people scooting away from her, she pretty much succeeded.
Emma squinted her eyes a little, tried to see the brunette more clearly, and her chest was moving more rapidly then it should have, her hands repeatedly clutched and released the handle of her purse.
And at time all Emma could think was, "Huh, who knew the evil queen got nervous".
And then Emma had almost laughed out loud, because Regina had furtively glanced around, neglected to notice Emma's gaze, and rapidly removed a Hershey's Kiss from her purse, unwrapping it hurriedly and popping it into her mouth.
And Emma started thinking about kisses.
V is very, very extraordinary
Emma groans as she accidentally rolls over in her sleepy state and faces the window. With the curtains she forgot to close last night. So that the sun is beaming down on her head.
The light casts red shadows against her closed eyelids, and she gags a little in response.
She may have, actually she can quickly admit to herself she did, get way too drunk last night. She can't even remember coming home, but the headache is a brilliant reminder that she had way too many shots.
Emma's always had a hard time with holidays, and Valentine's Day is no exception.
It's the not having a family, not having a loved one, not having anyone.
And yeah, okay, she has Henry. But he's only kinda her kid, and she doesn't have any sweet Valentine's traditions with him, though she bets Regina does.
Regina.
When Ruby invited her out last night with "us single gals have to stick together!" she'd laughed. For one thing, Ruby is rarely truly single. Even now, Emma's pretty sure she's dating a grown-up again August (that story is way too weird and Emma can't even wrap her mind around it). For another, she has never heard Ruby say 'gals' in her life, and doubts she ever will again.
But Emma's always alone on Valentine's Day, after foster care she was the girl you fucked in the backseat of your car, not the girl you brought home to your parents, or took out to a nice dinner, or bought flowers for. Neal bought her flowers one time, but she doesn't want to think about that. Ever.
Anyway, at the time she'd thought sure; she'd go out, have a couple drinks, what harm could it do?
And now she knows.
She's wildly hungover, which is the main reason why she doesn't answer her doorbell the first six times it rings.
"Emma!"
She opens her eyes to find a disgruntled Regina in front of her, arms crossed, glare on her face, purple smog still swirling around her.
"Regina what're you doing in my bedroom?" Escapes from her mouth before she can stop it.
Regina just raises an eyebrow. "Do you know what day it is?"
"...Valentine's Day?" Emma states hesitantly.
"Henry made you a card. We waited at the diner for an hour."
"Okay...?"
Regina just shakes her head. "Well, Miss Swan, why are you still in bed? Did I not just tell you we waited for an hour?"
"Yes, but-"
"I'll wait in the kitchen." And in another swirl of smoke she's gone.
Well. That was odd.
Is cards and the diner that Regina and Henry Valentine's Day tradition she was wondering about? Was she supposed to know that? She is 99.9% positive that she hasn't forgotten an entire conversation.
She dresses as quickly as possible in her hungover state.
When she finally makes it to her kitchen she freezes in the doorway.
Henry is standing next to Regina, wearing an adorable little apron. And Regina is leaning over the stove, flipping what smells suspiciously like pancakes.
Her eyes take it all in, then flit to the table. There are flowers, and a hand-drawn card, and her legs shake between her.
She takes tentative steps into the room, collapsing on the nearest chair, and Regina and Henry turn simultaneously offering her shockingly similar smiles.
Regina slides a plate of pancakes in front of her, and shit, they're heart shaped. Of course Regina's all about hearts. But still this is the nicest, best, only Valentine's Day Emma has ever had and her eyes immediately brim with tears.
Henry's still pouring her a mug of coffee, so he doesn't notice, but Regina does and reaches out and settles a hand gently on Emma's shoulder, squeezing once before she turns back to the sink ostensibly to wash the pan. But, in reality, Emma's pretty sure Regina knows she needs space.
Regina's just...perfect.
E is even more than anyone that you adore can
"Emma?" Henry whispers.
And Emma squints at her clock in the dark. It's one in the morning. Not ridiculously late, unless you're a a thirteen year old boy or, apparently, an aging sheriff.
She groans into her cellphone. "What's going on, kid?"
"It's Mom," he continues softly.
And maybe Emma's heart skips a beat. She sits up, an odd amount of frantic energy already mobilizing her into action. "What's wrong?"
"You know what day it is?"
And Emma stops to think. And no, she doesn't. "No?" She's already out of bed, groping in the dark for a pair of sweatpants.
"Emma," Henry's sigh is disappointed. And still he stumbles over the next name, "Cora?"
And shit. Right. Shit.
It's the anniversary of Cora's death.
"She's like crying and stuff. I can hear her through the wall. She needs someone," he states with the poise and maturity of someone who has had to face too much too young.
And still, she has to admit he's right.
Though she wonders at what he's really saying which, she thinks, might be...she needs you.
Emma's magic is still pretty wonky, so she stumbles into the cold night air, blowing into her fingers before starting the bug. Storybrooke is quiet at this time of night, and weirdly beautiful and peaceful. She takes a moment to breath in the chill before heading into the mansion.
Henry's left the door open a crack for her, and she squeezes in. She's simultaneously concerned about arriving uninvited, and completely comfortable entering the house with no one watching. She doesn't know what she's feeling, except worry.
Emma stands in front of Regina's room, bracing herself. One hand already reaching out to touch the handle. She can hear the muffled sobs, Regina trying desperately to keep her pain quiet and hidden.
For once it isn't going to work.
Regina can't hide from Henry or from Emma. She isn't alone anymore. She just doesn't realize it.
Emma softly pushes open the door and whispers, "Regina?"
Regina chokes back a sob and yelps a sharp, "get out!"
"Hey, no," Emma says softly, padding into the room, softly shutting the door behind her. She doesn't need Henry eavesdropping.
Regina is sitting up in bed, her knees clutched to her chest, and Emma can tell with just one look that she's been crying for hours.
And it physically hurts.
"Regina," Emma practically sighs her name, as she settles next to the older woman on the bed. She wraps an arm around Regina, ignoring the way her body stiffens. Emma leans against her gently in response, and for some reason that she can't even explain, brushes a kiss against her head.
"It's just me," Emma says just as calmly, barely audible over the sobs which Regina seems unable to control. "Just Emma."
"Emma," Regina gasps.
And suddenly her arms are filled with a trembling former evil queen.
"Just Emma. Just Regina." Emma promises, smoothing a hand down Regina's back in long, gentle strokes.
Henry finds them like that in the morning, slumped against each other fast asleep, his mother's face still streaked with tears yet somehow more peaceful than he's seen her in weeks.
And he just knows.
Love is all that I can give to you
Love is more than just a game for two
Two in love can make it
Take my heart and please don't break it
Love was made for me and you
-Nat King Cole