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"Why are you giggling like a loon?"
Emma stills, laughter cutting off abruptly. "Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
Regina grumbles and yanks the duvet above her head. She has one rule. One simple rule, and still Emma manages to break it. She hates mornings. Worse, she hates being awake during the morning. Sleeping in is the exact reason she agreed to Mayoral elections, done with the routine and responsibilities such a position entails. "Well your intentions don't really matter now, do they?"
A hand settles on her hip as Emma curls around her, molding their bodies together. Regina can't help but melt into her. Emma is like a furnace and the heat she gives off is a temptation all on its own; add to it the fact they're both naked, and the pull of one Emma Swan is more intoxicating than darkness itself. "I'm sorry."
"So you've said," she sighs and throws the duvet back, turning and burrowing into Emma's chest with a mumbled, "Tell me why."
"Just…" Emma chuckles, chin resting on the top of her head. "I had a dream."
Regina rolls her eyes. Getting Emma to talk about anything not involving their son, food, or her parents is like taking candy from a baby; which is nowhere near as simple as the phrase implies. She would know. She tried it once, just to prove the idiot who came up with the saying wrong. Conclusion? She was right, as always. "I'm listening."
"It's stupid."
"I don't doubt it," she deadpans, smiling when Emma gasps softly. Their entire relationship is based around half-hearted insults, so she knows that had been weak in comparison to the multitude of previous offenses. She just woke up. At least she was trying.
"I was… taunting…" Emma pauses and waits for Regina to give an impatient huff before she finishes, "a crocodile."
With a frown, Regina forfeits the warmth and rises, bracing herself with a hand on either side of that warm, beautiful body as she questions, "Why?"
Emma shrugs. "Because dream me is stupid?"
Eyebrow cocked, Regina smirks. "A lot like waking you, then," she replies and mentally pats herself on the back when Emma's face contorts, mock offense painting her expression.
"Hey," she laughs softly. "I wouldn't taunt a crocodile."
"Rumplestiltskin," Regina says his name as if that's all anyone needs to prove her wrong, and then goes on to list almost every potentially dangerous enemy Emma has taunted in the last five years they've known one another. "Me, Cora, Maleficent, Zelena, Peter Pan—though I'm hesitant to name him, simply because he was a child—Cruella, Lady Tremaine, Jafar, Scar…"
"First, Peter Pan was older than you, me, Rumple and Hook combined. Second, why are you keeping count of the people I've offended?"
"I am keeping count of the people who have been a stones throw away from killing you."
Emma tilts her head in thought. She has had a lot of enemies over the years, but she's pretty sure most of them she shared with Regina so—that's kind of unfair, isn't it? "They wanted to kill you too, you know."
"The difference being my desire to horrifically murder them was much stronger than theirs for you. If not for me, your corpse would still be decorating the tree in Neverland, alongside your mother."
"That sounded almost savior-y. Dark Savior-y, but savior-y."
"Say savior-y one more time and I will punch you in the face."
"And she does it again," Emma crows as she rolls out of bed, grinning. She is so so so happy to be rid of that damn title, but oh gods, it is way too fun teasing Regina about it and she has enough experience to take any threat the former Queen gives seriously.
"What?"
"I'm the one that threatens to punch people in the face," Emma reminds her, hands on hips, expression serious. It lasts all of a second before she breaks into a grin and tacks on, "Oh Savior-y one."
"Don't think I won't do it."
"I totally think you would," Emma assures. Regina frowns as she watches her walk about the room, momentarily distracted every time Emma bends to retrieve something from the floor. "My jaw still remembers our lovers quarrel in the cemetery."
Attention caught by that highly skewed perception of what happened between them all those years ago, Regina rolls her eyes and points out, "We weren't lovers then."
Emma flings the shirt she'd just picked up at her. "Stop ruining my fantasies," she demands as Regina bats it away from her face and back to the floor.
Regina smiles. She can't help herself. The fact Emma still thinks about those days is enough to forgive her for the unwelcome assault on her subconscious. She briefly cuts to the alarm clock on the bedside table, and grimaces at the digits telling her it's almost eight. "You really think about us as lovers back then?"
Emma hops up and down, attempting to tug too-tight jeans on. Regina wonders why she doesn't just sit down, but is content to enjoy the impromptu show as she falls back to the mattress. "Imagine how hot the hate sex would have been."
Shaking her head, Regina fists the duvet and pulls it back up around her shoulders. She has imagined it and knows, without a doubt, that it would indeed have been hot. Emma, however, doesn't need to know that. "Remind me why I fell in love with you again," she muses aloud from her cocoon.
"Mind-blowing orgasms," Emma replies, words muffled through the shirt around her head.
"Ah," Regina drawls. "Your modesty; now I remember."
"It's hard to be humble," Emma says as her head reappears and she winks with an added, "Knowing how great I am."