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Emma’s dragging her along by the hand, Hook trailing after them sulkily, and Regina feels obligated to point out, “I don’t need to have dinner with you every night. I’m not actually alone at home. You may remember our son?”
Emma makes a face at her. “Spoilsport. There’s this great place by the docks I bet you haven’t been to before, because you are a snob.” She grins, undeterred by Regina’s scowl. “You pretend that you go to Granny’s just because Henry likes it and you claim that you don’t like pizza but you had–“ She lifts her fingers. “Three slices of pizza in your freezer and two containers of Granny’s takeout in your garbage. Last night, anyway.”
She’d come over for dinner unexpectedly with Hook slouching behind her, muttering something grouchy about their quiet night out that had had Regina smirking to herself all evening. He had called Regina the third wheel when Emma had gone upstairs for a moment and stormed out, and he hadn’t returned by the time Emma had stumbled out the door, yawning.
She’ll show him third wheel.
It isn’t her fault that Emma seems determined to include her in every single outing. It certainly isn’t her fault that Hook seems equally determined to be included in all of Emma’s outings. Frankly, everyone owes her a resounding thank you just for allowing Hook in her presence this often.
And, well, there’s also the undeniable fact that Emma appears to be in love with her. And hasn’t yet noticed. Regina has had to threaten Snow into silence about the whole matter.
Which she isn’t entirely averse to.
She frees her hand from Emma’s and lays it at the small of Emma’s back as Emma charges on, endearingly determined. “And I know you’ll love this place, so you can stop pretending you don’t right now.” She doesn’t comment on Regina’s hand on her back, and Regina darts a glance back at Hook, who’s so focused on her hand that he stumbles and crashes to the ground.
Emma blinks like she’s about to turn at that sound and Regina murmurs into her ear, “So, where are we sitting?” She shivers at the closeness, far from immune from Emma Swan herself. At least she’sself-aware about it.
Emma’s breaths are a little too rapid as she stumbles forward. “Uh. Sitting. Right. You and I.”
“And Hook,” Regina reminds her patiently. “Your boyfriend.”
“Who? Oh, yeah. Him too.” Regina takes off her coat when they’re inside, very aware of Emma’s eyes on her as she reveals her dress. “Table for two. Three!” Emma gulps audibly.
The maitre d’ eyes them both and says, “You sure about that?”
“She’s sure,” Hook gasps as he throws the door open. He’s fixing his jacket and Emma’s frowning at him as though she’s noticed that he’s covered in snow.
She blinks and turns around, leaning in to Regina. “See? The ambiance isn’t bad.”
“Mm-hm,” Regina hums, taking the seat opposite Emma. It’s a small table and they’re crowded in together, and Hook looks smug with victory as he sits between them. Every single time. He still hasn’t learned.
Emma’s reading the menu, her brow furrowed adorably as she contemplates her options, and Regina’s distracted by that and misses her question. “Regina?” Emma says, running a tentative finger across her wrist. “The panini?”
She jolts back to the world around her. “Yes. That’s…that’d be fine.” There’s a little smile creeping onto Emma’s face, a fondness in it that Regina’s suddenly aware is mirrored on her own face. Hook glowers into his menu.
They order and settle into conversation about the newest menace in town. “I don’t see why we can’t control the climate with our magic,” Emma is complaining. “We moved the moon, can’t we fucking salt a little ice?”
“We can, but it’s not worth the strain to your magic,” Regina warns her. “The sheer amount of effort that would go into melting all the snow in town would have you exhausted for weeks.” Emma looks disappointed, and Regina feels obligated to add, “I do have a spell that could enchant your shovel to do the work for you, though.”
Emma brightens, and Hook breaks in, “Rumplestiltskin had an enchanted broom.”
“Like Mickey Mouse?” Emma asks curiously, turning to him.
Hook preens under her gaze, and Emma’s beginning to look impatient when he admits, “I have no idea whether or not mice were involved.”
Emma launches into a description of Mickey Mouse, glancing back at Regina every few moments to make sure that she knows (of course she does, she’d spent twenty-eight years cursing Walt Disney in his grave) and she instead entertains herself by slipping off one shoe and sliding her foot up Emma’s thigh. Emma lets out a strangled sound and turns bright red.
She does it again, gradually higher and higher until her toes are scraping against the underside of Emma’s thigh, and only then does she startle, a look of dismay on her face. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought that was the table leg.”
“Th-that’s fine.” Emma is still flushed, eyes glazed over, and she shakes her head as though to quiet it. “We’re all friends here.” She’s staring at Regina again as their food arrives, and Regina only blinks away once to enjoy Hook’s dark look.
“Well, you and I are,” Regina says sweetly, leaning over to wipe some sauce from the corner of Emma’s mouth. She licks it off her finger and Hook’s hook lands in the table with a thump as Emma’s eyes remain glued to Regina’s tongue. “I think we’ve fought long and hard for that.”
Emma takes a moment to respond, her brow furrowed again. “Yeah.”
“Thank you,” Regina says, and means it sincerely. “For being my friend.” And then, less sincere, because Hook must nearly be at his limit. If she’d bother looking away from Emma for an instant to check on him. “More than that, even. You’re…very important to me.” Or maybe she is sincere. She can barely tell anymore.
Emma’s eyes light up and she reaches over to squeeze Regina’s hand. “You’re kind of important to me, too. I don’t know how we got here, but I’m glad that we have this…thing now.” She’s virtually glowing, earnest and unguarded as she’s ever been, and there’s that shy smile on her face again, the one that has Regina craving to kiss her eyes and lips and her little dimples and every bit of her face, that one that transforms I don’t want to kill you to I would love you forever.
Regina raises her glass of wine, dizzy under the power of Emma’s smile, and she doesn’t know if it’s for Hook’s benefit or for her own when she says, “To us.”
“To us,” Emma agrees, clinking her glass against Regina’s, and she takes a long sip before she arches an eyebrow, glass firmly between her fingers, and says, “Hook left a while ago. You know you can ease up on the romance now.”
“What–“ Sure enough, Hook is gone. And Emma is watching her knowingly, the smile still on her face but now it’s more wry than shy. “You knew!” she says in outrage. “Have you been playing me?”
“Like you’ve been playing Hook? Nah.” Emma shrugs, smirking a little as she holds tightly onto Regina’s hand. Regina longs to leave, to escape before she’s made a fool of, but Emma won’t let her go. “I just really like you hitting on me.” She’s bold now, confident in her bluntness, and Regina knows she’s flushing. “And I figured it was this or I’d have to wait another hundred years before you actually made a move. So says my mom.”
Snow. Of course Snow had blurted out her secret. She should have expected it. “You may be a menace, but your mother is even worse.”
“I’m not letting you flirt with me until she storms off, too.” But Emma is grinning and she raises her glass again. “To us, huh? Two menaces. We deserve each other.”
Their glasses clink and Regina smiles as she tears her eyes from Emma’s for just long enough to spot Hook glaring at them through the restaurant window. She offers him an enigmatic smile and returns to an expectant Emma, leaning close to plant a soft kiss on her lips.
It’s time to sever that third wheel once and for all.