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Emma sipped her coffee, her eyes trained on the mayor's office. The light was off, but she and Regina were staking it out. The mayor sat next to her, in perfect red lipstick, as usual.
Emma probably shouldn't take note of Regina's usual lipstick choice. But she did. Of course she did.
She hardly noticed anything but the way the mayor's lips curved, or the way she smiled and laughed and talked.
Emma felt like a lovestruck teenager.
She focused on the task at hand, hopefully, whoever had cursed the town would show up to destroy Regina's supposed work. Supposed because she hadn't actually managed to make a memory potion, but the town believed she had.
The woman in question shifted from next to her, “so,” she huffed out, “do we just sit here and wait?”
Emma sighed, Regina was not a patient person. She inclined her head, “Till the person who cast the curse makes a move on your office,” she said.
Regina seemed to accept this, and silence stretched comfortably between them.
Despite her almost overwhelming feeling for the woman, Emma had been surprised at how easily they had fallen back into their dynamic. When she'd come back from New York, she'd expected there to be tension between them, expected Regina to be angry or upset or…well, something. But she wasn't. In fact, Regina seemed grateful. Emma continued not to understand her.
“Is this really what you do for a living?” Regina asked, interrupting her thoughts.
Emma grinned at the question, “Yeah, it's called a stakeout.”
Regina thought about this, shuffling down in her seat, “And you don't get bored?”
Emma shrugged, “I don't know, I find ways to pass time, eat, talk,” she turned away from Regina and concentrated on the dark windows, “mostly watch, which is what we should be doing.”
Humming in agreement, Regina grew quiet.
Emma could feel her presence next to her like a beacon, it thrummed through her veins and set her nerves on fire. She hadn't missed this, and had hoped the feeling would have disappeared, or at least dissipated during her time in New York.
Then again, Emma hadn't really had time to process anything, what with having her memory wiped. All she had done in New York was fall in love with a flying monkey. Big mistake, in retrospect.
Regina broke the silence again, pulling Emma out of her thoughts.
“Does he have friends?”
Emma cleared her throat, they were walking on thin ice now.
“Does who have friends?”
“Henry,” Regina clarified, “Does he have any friends in New York?”
Emma smiled secretly to herself, “Yeah,” she said, “he has a lot of friends, no girlfriends yet, at least not that I know about.”
“So, he's happy.” Emotion colored her voice, and Emma’s heart squeezed in her chest, “his life is good there.”
“Yeah,” Emma admitted, “I almost didn't come back because of that.”
Silence. Not the comfortable kind.
“Well, why did you?” Regina asked.
Emma felt a swirl of emotions build inside her, pressing up against the dam that had held them in for too long. Why had she come back to this town? Why had she left everything Henry knew behind and brought him here?
She had taken her son despite knowing it would hurt him. Emma had come back despite knowing it would hurt her. Despite knowing full well it would be painful and hard.
Why had she done it?
All the way back, she had asked herself that simple question. She had told herself it was because of her parents. And that was true, but it wasn't the full truth. What was the full truth? Had she come back for Killian? For the man she'd once thought she might love?
For the man she'd once thought she might settle for, would be more accurate.
Emma swallowed. No. The answer had nothing to do with the pirate, and very little to do with her parents, though she loved them.
Up until this very moment, Emma had hidden behind her son, behind the fact that he'd want to see his mother again, even if it meant knowing he'd lost a year with her.
To everyone, that was why she'd come back. She had tried to lie to herself, but one look at her son's other mother, and those lies had come crumbling down.
Yet, she couldn't very well tell her that.
So, she told her a half-truth.
Half-truths are still half true, right?
“Because he may not remember all this, but I do, and I know what he would say; a hero would come back.”
The truth had a lot more to do with the spark of electric tension that had gone through Emma the moment she'd set eyes on Regina again.
And, oh, she'd hoped the feeling would have gone. She'd hoped, all the way to Storybrooke, that she'd been exaggerating it in her memories. The way her heart beat too hard against her chest, the way her stomach fluttered in Regina's presence. But she hadn't exaggerated, in fact, she'd forgotten just how strongly her body reacted to her.
What would Regina say if she knew the truth? If Emma blurted it all out, right now, what would she say?
In Emma's mind, in the moments before sleep, she'd confess her neverending love, and Regina would smile and tell her she felt the same. They'd kiss, then. Followed by some other things Emma tried not to think about in the cold light of day.
It was stupid, it was a childish wish fulfillment fantasy. In truth, Emma had no idea how Regina felt about her, and that made her stomach twist in knots.
Regina had never shown the tiniest hint of interest towards Emma, not beyond her being Henry's mother, or occasionally, the savior.
Yet, in the warm compartment of her car, Regina's breathing steady next to her, Emma could almost taste what it would be like. For Regina to say yes. For Regina to want her.
The knot in her stomach tightened.
Turning to the woman next to her she met her dark eyes. There was something there, a spark of curiosity, and intensity– Emma shook herself, she was reading too much into a look, that likely meant nothing at all.
Rain began to drum down on the car, and Emma sighed, relaxing into the sound. Maybe it didn't really matter, if Regina cared for her the way Emma did, maybe all that mattered was that they were together now. Emma's gaze slipped back to her, to the way her lips curved, the way her lashes touched her cheeks when she blinked, the way her eyebrows rose just a little at her look. Warmth spread through her as Regina quirked a smile. Maybe it was enough.
“Emma, look,” Regina sat up, pointing to the window, the light had been lit, and someone was moving around inside.
“We got ‘em,” Emma murmured, cracking her car door open.
They ran through the rain into the building, climbing the stairs two at a time until they were outside Regina's office. The door was closed.
“You sure whoever's in there can't get out?”
Regina nodded, “I locked it with blood magic.”
They burst in; Emma shone her flashlight through the room, but there was no sign of the intruder. Furrowing her brow, she turned back to Regina, who was staring down at something.
Whoever had come in had completely destroyed her work– thankfully it had been fake.
A movement behind Emma alerted her, in the corner stood a hooded figure. Emma pointed her light at them, hoping to catch a glimpse of their face.
“Stop right there!” Emma cried, stepping towards the figure.
In a whoosh of green magic, they were gone.
Emma stopped dead in her tracks.
“I thought you said they couldn't do that.”
Regina was staring at the spot where the figure had just disappeared, “that's not possible,” she said, “I sealed this room with blood magic, no one, no matter how powerful, should have been able to do that.”
“So, who the hell are we dealing with?” Emma asked.
Regina sat down heavily on the sofa. Leaning her elbows on her legs she pressed her palms into her face.
“I don't know,” she admitted, her voice muffled, “I really…I don't know.”
Emma blinked, then, turning on the light, walked over to her.
“Hey,” she said, “we're going to get them, alright? I promise.”
Regina looked up from her hands, “and in the meantime, everyone thinks I cast the curse. They think I've become…who I was again. And my son doesn't know who I am, and I–”
Emma sat next to her and took her hand, it was a spontaneous gesture which she immediately regretted. She didn't let go of Regina's hand, however.
“Listen,” she said, meeting her eyes, “who cares what they think? You know you didn't can't this curse, I know you didn't, and we're going to get whoever did. As for Henry…we’ll get his memory back, alright? I promise,” Emma repeated her promise as Regina's eyes welled with tears.
Fingers squeezed around Emma's, “I admire your optimism,” Regina murmured, “I suppose you get that from your mother.”
The words hit her like a brick, she didn't want Regina thinking about Emma's mother. Not while she held her hand in her lap.
“Please,” Emma scoffed, trying to lighten the mood, “my mom is all empty bluster, I'm optimistic because I know everything's going be alright.”
Regina chuckled but said nothing, she stared ahead of her, but didn't let go of Emma's hand.
“Did you really never think I cast the curse?” she asked, “not even at first?”
Emma shook her head, though Regina wasn't looking at her, “not even for a second,” she said, and it was true. She hadn't doubted Regina's innocence for one moment.
Dark eyes met hers, the warm light of the overhead lamp making them shine almost bronze.
“Why not? You know what I've done, you know who I am.”
“I don't care,” Emma said.
And, that answer didn't make sense. Not in answer to what Regina had asked her. Not really. That was because Emma wasn't answering that question, she was answering a very different one, that had come entirely from within her head.
“You don't care?” Regina asked.
Emma bit her lip, it was now or never.
“No,” she said, “I don't care who you are or what you've done, all I know, Regina, is what you did for me, and for Henry. What you sacrificed for us. I can't even imagine the pain you went through, being separated from him. Those memories you gave me? They're yours. I know that, and I'll forever be grateful for them,” Emma took a breath, trying to ignore the intensity of the gaze on her, “I know who you are, Regina, you're the toughest most resilient woman I…” Emma swallowed, her heart beat so fast it hurt, “I have ever known.”
There was so much more to say. Was she being selfish? Regina was broken now, alone. Was Emma being selfish by telling her the truth?
“So, no, I don't care who you were. All I know is who you are now, and that's someone I…” why wouldn't the words come? Why did they stick in her throat like molasses?
“You what?” Regina asked, her voice was soft, barely above a whisper.
“Regina I. I wasn't completely honest with you.”
Yes. Good. Start small.
“About what?”
“The reason I came back,” Emma said, “yes, I thought it's what Henry would want, but it wasn't just that.”
“What was it, then?” Regina's hand slipped out Emma's grasp, “the pirate?”
“Hook?” Emma asked, bewildered, “of course not.”
“What, then?”
“Regina…it was you.”
The silence seemed to go on forever, as Regina's eyes bore into hers, never letting go. Emma wondered if she would answer. She wondered if the words would hang between them for the rest of their lives. Too much, not enough.
Regina would pretend she hadn't heard. Or she'd pretend she hadn't understood. Then they'd go back to normal, and Emma would act like her heart hadn't been shattered into a thousand pieces.
“Me?”
Air rushed back into Emma's lungs.
“Yeah, you.”
Regina shook her head, “I don't…I don't understand what that means.”
There it was. The answer Emma had been dreading. It wasn't as harsh as it could've been, sure, yet her heart still felt like it'd been run through with a rusty knife.
She got up, “right,” she said, “sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I'll see you tomorrow?”
Not waiting for an answer she turned to leave. Regina's voice stopped her at the door.
“Emma,” quick footsteps behind her, “wait, I really don't understand, please. Don't go.”
Rounding on her, Emma felt everything she'd been pushing down since the very first day they'd met come back up. A swirling mess of emotions, threatening to pull her under.
“What don't you understand, Regina? that I'm in love with you? that I came back here for you? That, the very first day I met you, you turned my entire world upside down?”
Regina stepped back from the violent outpouring of emotions in Emma's voice. She blinked, her arms going around her waist, as if to stop herself from falling apart.
“You're in love with me?”
Tears brimmed Emma's eyes and she blinked them back.
“Clearly you don't feel the same way, so let me go with whatever dignity I have left.”
With that, she stomped out of the office. As she hit the stairs, she began to run. Pain spread through her chest. Of course, she'd known Regina didn't feel the same way she did. But to see it in her eyes, to hear it in her voice. It was a pain Emma hadn't expected. Not tonight.
She ran out into the dark street, rain poured down on her head, the droplets running cool over her hair and into the neck of her shirt. Stopping under a streetlight, Emma looked up into the night sky. Water rushed down her face, and she imagined it washing away all of her love, all of her pain.
“Emma!” her name was cried out from somewhere behind her.
Under the portico of the mayoral building, Regina called out to her. Emma stood under the pouring rain and watched her wave for her.
She was numb. How could she move? How could she feel anything but pain?
Regina gave up, and Emma half turned away, expecting her to make her way back into the building.
She jumped when someone grabbed her arm.
“Didn't you hear me?” Regina asked, raising her voice to be heard above the leak of the rain.
She stared down at her.
“You're such a drama queen,” Regina said, half laughing, “why are you standing in the rain?”
Anger bubbled up into Emma's stomach. It was one thing to break her heart, but to then poke fun at her for it?
Her face must have shown her inner turmoil, because Regina cupped her cheeks, pulling her down to eye level.
“If you'd waited for five seconds, Emma Swan, you'd have heard my answer.”
Her hair was now completely wet, dark curls that stuck to her cheeks and forehead.
“What?” Emma asked, confusion coloring her voice. They were now so close that she didn't need to raise her voice.
Regina laughed again, then she kissed her.
Without thinking, Emma pulled her closer, until they were flush. Their clothes stuck to each other and themselves.
The kiss was wet and warm and wonderful. Everything Emma had ever dreamed, her fingers slid into Regina's dark curls, pulling her closer and closer, kissing her deeper. Needing to feel and touch and taste every inch of her lips and her mouth. To know she was truly there, under the rain, kissing the woman she loved.
Regina pulled away, keeping her hands on Emma's shoulders.
“Emma,” she said, “I love you, too. But can we please go inside? I'm soaked.”