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it took me half a day to spill my secrets

Summary:

A classic truth spell gone wrong… or perhaps right? David truth-poisons Regina as they try to figure out what happened during The Cricket Game. Of course, Regina assumes it was Emma. But then Emma seems to be equally affected… So maybe not.

Notes:

I never actually got past S1, but this is a trope I really enjoy so I thought I’d have a go. But I wondered how they’d react if the truth spilling got to both of them! As a result, there might be some behaviour that’s OOC, especially from Henry. But I enjoyed writing them this way!

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Regina eyed the box of homemade cookies suspiciously, not remembering having told Emma that the white chocolate and macadamia ones were her favourites. But Emma had brought them over during a short visit with Henry, citing a gift from the Charming household. She had deposited them on the kitchen counter in front of her, and Henry had looked at her with such optimism and happiness that it pulled on her heart and made her chest feel tight. Anything that made his curious patchwork family feel more whole gave him this ridiculous grin that filled her with joy and guilt in equal measure. 

 

It was common for Emma to supervise Henry’s visits with her since the damned apple turnover event, and it wasn’t uncommon for her to bring baked goods when she did. Perhaps more surprising was the fact that they actually looked good, as Emma had proved herself to be a bit of a disaster in the kitchen.

 

“Peace offering,” she had said quietly. “I know it’s been a lot recently with the whole Archie thing.”

 

“I told you I didn’t - I wouldn’t.”

 

“I know, Regina. I believe you. I’ve been at this long enough to know there are two sides to every story. And I don’t think you're lying.” Emma’s voice was soft and reassuring and Regina was momentarily floored by the gentle friendship of this foolish and headstrong woman who she cared so deeply for. 

 

She blushed at her silent admission and took another look at the cookies.

 

“Thank you,” she said simply.

 

“I am trying as hard as I can to find out who did it. Or to find any evidence to clear your name,” Emma promised, her words so full of righteousness that Regina believed her without questioning it. 

 

When had it become so easy to trust Emma Swan? She wondered. She felt like she could get used to it, having one person whom she could rely upon.

 

“She’s not been sleeping,” Henry added proudly. “Emma’s been looking through the evidence day and night in case she missed something.”

 

Emma gave him a look which could have melted him to a puddle beneath her gaze. Then she looked at Regina, whose eyes were burning with something unspoken, and blushed. It didn’t mean anything. She would do the same no matter the murder case or the prime suspect. 

 

“Yes, well. When I said thank you I meant it. But you should really sleep, Emma,” she smirked and Emma really didn’t know how she had ended up floundering again. It seemed pretty common around Regina Mills these days.

 

Regina looked around, feeling the silence creeping up to shoot down the tentative easiness of this visit, and asked Henry about his school week. She kept eyeing the cookies until Emma reached over and took one for herself, giving unspoken permission for Regina to do the same. 

 

Screw it, she thought, giving in to the temptation of the delicious-smelling baked goods. She mouthed a thank you to Emma, who was still holding hers in her hand and smiling expectantly at Regina. She took a slow bite, not wanting to rush the sensation. Emma mirrored her with a smile. The dough melted on her tongue and the cloying sweetness of the white chocolate paired with the delightfully bitter nutty aftertaste made her mouth water. 

 

Her blood chilled at the second aftertaste that fizzed on her tongue. 

 

Shit, that was magic

 

A thousand curses swam thickly in her mind, until her head felt like a tornado of possible outcomes, each more terrible than the last. Her heart was thundering in her chest, her breathing coming close and fast. She held onto the cold marble of the countertop in an attempt to stem the rising panic and avoid worrying Henry.

 

“Mom?” He called uncertainly at the exact same time as Emma shouted her name in a voice that sounded as panicked as she felt. Both cookies fell to the floor as Emma bounded over and placed a shaking hand on the small of Regina’s back. 

 

She leant into it subconsciously for a single second before she regained some wits about her and stepped angrily aside.

 

“How DARE you touch me, Swan” she spat, furious.

 

Henry floundered, not knowing where to look or what to do. Emma offered him an apologetic look and mouthed to your bedroom to him. He gave her a questioning look to make sure she didn’t need back-up, and she just nodded silently. 

 

“What’s wrong, Regina?” Emma pressed. Her voice was full of honest concern, and Regina felt sick with it. 

 

“You poi-” she started, but her throat pinched and stopped any sound coming out. Odd, she thought, perhaps it’s leftover from the panic attack.

 

She tried again.

 

“I ate that cookie and it was laced with magic,” she hissed. 

 

“Oh GOD, oh fuck, oh Regina,” Emma swore. Now Regina had mentioned it, she noticed the aftertaste too. It tasted a bit like anise, that horrible licorice flavour burning softly as the magic settled itself in. Her concern was so noisy it was practically tangible, clawing at the air around them. “So did I. Do you know what it did?”

 

“No, I don’t know what it did. I’m a sorcerer not a psychic. Where the fuck did you get them from?”

 

“Snow baked them, I-,” her voice faltered, trying to remember. “They didn’t leave the house. I didn’t touch them.”

 

Sure you di-” there it was again, her traitorous tongue stopping her from speaking. That couldn’t be good.

 

She sighed and tried a different tack. 

 

Cancel out all of the other options and then whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. The snippet of Conan Doyle came to her unwarranted and she was surprised at how it comforted her.

 

“Do I look any different?” Regina asked, giving the blonde a once over with her eyes and surprising herself at the small warmth in her stomach that accompanied the action. 

 

“No, you still look like your beautiful self,” Emma spoke slowly, nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t really considered her words. The second she realised what she said, she clamped an anxious hand over her mouth, skin flush with surprise and embarrassment.

 

Well, that wasn’t entirely surprising to Regina. She had seen Emma checking out the slew of attractive women who called Storybrooke their home. It hadn’t felt like her place to ask about Emma’s sexuality, but Regina had made her own quiet assumptions. And Regina knew that she was objectively hot. It was still nice to hear Emma say it though. Now that was surprising.

 

She willed herself to calm down, to try to work out what was happening rather than opening a tirade on Emma, reasoning that she had also eaten the poisoned cookies, and seemed as concerned and shocked as she did, so probably wasn’t at fault here. And there she was, complimenting Regina. It didn’t add up to someone who had wilfully put a curse on her.

 

“You think I’m beautiful?” Regina asked instead. 

 

“Yes,” Emma breathed before she could stop herself. It was a compulsion. “Regina, do you not?”

 

“No,” she said quickly, sadly. “I mean - I know I am not … um … unappealing. But years of that bloody mirror telling me a ten year old was prettier, well…” 

 

She hadn’t meant to be that honest, or that vulnerable.

 

“Regina,” Emma soldiered on. “I don’t mean to offend you but Jesus you are an idiot sometimes.”

 

“And that’s supposed to be comforting?”

 

“No - yes,” Emma spluttered, trying to make her words form any others than those which were bursting to come out. She lost the battle and continued. “I mean. You’re the fucking sun, Regina. I don’t even know who I am half the time I look at you.” 

 

“Ok, now who’s the idiot?” Regina asked, deflecting. The sudden outburst and the way Emma was looking at her had her feeling a bit too seen for her comfort.

 

“So it’s not a curse that turns us green, then,” Emma said, trying to avoid the lump in her throat that was so used to rejection it almost felt normal. 

 

Regina could hear the tremor in her voice and was surprised at how uncomfortable it made her feel. She fought against the urge to tell Emma how much she hated to see her unhappy, how she was genuinely touched that Emma had remained steadfast on her side, and how she actually reciprocated the attraction because damn, Emma was fucking breathtaking, and it all came crashing down on her at once.

 

“It’s a truth poison, Emma,” she spoke lowly, hollowly. 

 

“Oh-” Emma returned, realisation dawning. Then she repeated herself, the second ‘oh’ flush with embarrassment as she realised that Regina now knew what she honestly thought of her. And that Regina so far hadn’t reciprocated any of it. Her humiliation rose, threatening to overcome her if it were not for Regina in peril.

 

“Why would Snow?” Regina mulled. “Oh,” she continued, repeating Emma’s sound of understanding.

 

“Must have been David trying to find out if you actually killed Archie,” Emma’s words tripped over themselves in their haste to get out. “I told him not to try anything heroic but turns out he's revealed where I get my occasional idiot genes from.”

 

Regina arched a brow, extremely unimpressed. She fought a chuckle at Emma’s self deprecating joke. 

 

“You are more heroic than idiotic, Emma,” she spoke reassuringly. Her face scrunched up at the realisation of what she had just admitted, but she didn’t try to take it back.

 

Emma beamed at her, then looked uncomfortable.

 

“I really do believe you didn’t do it Regina, but we could use this as a chance to prove you didn’t do it, once and for all.”

 

“I’m not going to-” Regina started. “I feel violated. I-”

 

“I’m not saying you have to march on over to the station now to set the record straight,” Emma encouraged good-naturedly. “Just tell me what you were doing that night and we can draw the slate clean.”

 

Regina paused for a long moment before answering, trying to choose her words carefully. It proved difficult, under the current circumstances.

 

But she couldn't tell Emma that she'd spent the evening at home, alone, with a pitiful takeout for one, and a romcom of all things. She had too much pride to admit that. Not to mention, at the time of death she'd still been awake, alone in bed and trying desperately to not think about Emma Swan as she took care of business. She was only human, after all. She blushed just thinking about it. 

 

Suddenly, she had a bolt of inspiration, a way of replying to Emma's request without revealing anything incriminating.

 

“I don’t want to answer that question,” Regina said simply, and her eyes sparkled with her cleverness at finding a way around the truth serum.

 

“Wow- you don’t play fair, Regina,” Emma replied. “And anyway, why are your eyes so fucking hot when they do that sparkly thing?”

 

She rolled her eyes at her own traitorous mouth again.

 

“Why are yours so fucking hot all the time?” Regina spoke without thinking. She put a delicate hand over her own lips and scrunched her nose in horror at what had made its way out of her tight-fisted repression.

 

Emma beamed, and Regina couldn't help but think how much prettier she looked that way. So she told her.

 

“You look so gorgeous when you smile.”

 

Emma beamed wider.

 

“Exactly, like that,” she continued without thinking. She swore as she realised what she had said.

 

God, it was nauseating.

 

“In any case, I didn't kill Archie,” Regina offered, the olive branch extended to broker a peace treaty across their mutual appreciation of each others' looks.

 

“Can I just get you to say that again, for the record?” Emma had to ask, had to get it on her camera.

 

“If you must,” Regina griped. The longer it had been since she ate the cookie, the less uneasy she felt about her lack of filter. It had broken some ground with the unrequited object of her affections - woah, even her thoughts were unfiltered today - and she found it difficult to be sincerely angry when Emma was looking at her so heartbreakingly earnestly. 

 

~.~

 

Emma made a great show of filming the cookie that had been eaten, voicing over what had happened with no small amount of contrition for her father and his part in all this. She slowly panned to Regina's face, smiling at the expression she found there, soft as it was at Emma's antics.

 

Regina repeated her confession, and Emma hit send to her father. 

 

The immediacy of her phone's vibration at his call in reply made Emma wince.

 

“What was she doing instead then?” David spoke without hesitation, nothing so much as a greeting even.

 

His insistence at getting an alibi had put Emma in a tough spot more than once, so she was perhaps snippier than she should have been in her response.

 

“You don't need to know, David. She isn't capable of lying in this state. Which you put her in, I might add.”

 

It was clear from her tone that he had crossed a line, but she doubled down to remove any room for doubt. 

 

“And while I'm at it. How dare you violate her privacy like that. She's not a piece of evidence for you use for your hero trip, she's a fucking human being. And a really special one at that.”

 

She hadnt meant to speak the last, much less with Regina in the room. But David had crossed a line and she couldn't bear that he had made Regina, Regina of all people, fall apart like she had when she tasted the magic on her tongue.

 

The woman in question reached out a slender hand and squeezed her arm, non-verbally confirming her appreciation. Her eyes were sparkling again, and Emma had to look away, fighting against words that her father didn't need to hear.

 

“I'm sorry, Emma. I just had to know and there wasn't another way.” He did at least sound apologetic. 

 

“You really do have an appalling grasp of boundaries, David,” she spoke after a moment. Her voice was acid and she tried to swallow down the bile that rose in her throat as she fought to keep the words in. He'd crossed a line, but she still loved him. She really tried to stop the words overflowing from her lips. “Par for the course for someone who goes around kissing people when they are asleep. And abandoning their child into a fucking tree.”

 

Regina's hand was back again, this time finding her other hand and lacing their fingers together. It was strangely comforting, and she crumpled a bit at having overstepped on the phone.

 

“Sorry. I went too far. Your cookies got me too.”

 

It was a weak excuse, and would probably upset David even more.

 

“Emma,” he winced and she could hear it.

 

She stayed silent, not trusting her tongue.

 

“Emma, I'm sorry. I feel awful that it got you too,” he offered. It wasn't quite the apology she wanted, but she tried to avoid opening the wound any further. “And I'm not sure what you mean about the rest but I'm sorry if I've made you unhappy.”

 

She huffed in frustration. Of course, he didn't remember.

 

“Don't sweat it. Just don't fucking pull this nonsense again. No matter what,” she threatened. 

 

He chuckled down the phone at her.

 

“Yes, Sheriff,” he promised. It was surprisingly sincere. 

 

“Oh and one more thing,” she started, nervously running circles against Regina's thumb in her hand. She was surprised that Regina hadn't pulled away, and at how happy that made her. “Where did you get this thing from, and how long will it take to fade away?”

 

“I - um -” she could hear his reluctance, and waited him out. “It was in the evidence lockup, originally Regina's, if the immaculate labelling is anything to go by.”

 

“That sonofabitch,” Regina exhaled against her side. She'd been trying to keep quiet the whole time, to not let Emma know how she was on the verge of tears because no one had ever really defended her before, or how she loved the feeling of Emma's hand in her own, or how fierce and marvellous and hot Emma was when she was angry.

 

She had held her tongue at poisoning, but stealing from the city? From her? David had crossed so many lines today. Only Emma's hand in her kept her calm enough to avoid conjuring a fireball at her fingers to let off steam.

 

David,” Regina admonished, pulling the phone from Emma to give him a piece of her mind. “That's gross misconduct at best and serious misuse of power at worst. I can't believe you.”

 

“It's for the greater good,” was all he said down the phone.

 

Regina snorted, actually snorted her derision at him. She felt dangerously close to a tirade about how his excellent plan had backfired and hurt Emma as well, so she hung up furiously before she could say something she’d regret when this was all out of her system.

 

There was a solid fifteen seconds of pregnant silence after Regina slammed the phone down with a huff. Emma concentrated all of her anxious energy into consciously feeling the soft press of Regina’s hand still in hers. There was so much to process, and she didn’t want to open her mouth and say the wrong thing.

 

“12 hours,” Regina breathed. The soft lull of her voice bellowed comfort into the starkness of the silence. 

 

“I’m confused,” Emma replied.

 

“The serum lasts 12 hours,” she explained sheepishly. “I’m nothing if not thorough,” she added.

 

“Well in that case we should definitely take Henry back to the loft. There are some truths I’d rather he didn’t hear from me.”

 

Regina blushed at the heavy implication.

 

“Yeah?” She murmured. “Like what?”

 

“I don’t want to answer that question,” Emma replied, eyes crinkling as she used Regina’s own wit against her.

 

“Oh-” Regina’s disappointment was tangible.

 

The tightness in Emma’s chest had her backtracking almost immediately.

 

“I don’t want to answer that question now,” she recovered, and she was surprised how much she meant it. She wasn’t quite done sharing with Regina, and she wanted to make the most of this twelve hour window where Regina was equally honest and open with her. “Besides, I’m the collateral casualty here, so the least you can do is give me somewhere to stay until this wears off.”

 

“I didn’t poison you, Emma,” Regina said, but it sounded like a surrender.

 

“And I didn’t poison you, either.” Emma retorted. “But I’d like to stay with you all the same.”

 

This time it didn’t even make her blush. It had been a long time since she wanted something more than she wanted a quiet evening with this Regina.

 

And Regina - well - Regina was fighting the honest part of herself which was spiralling and grasping at any words which weren’t the I love you which would send Emma running.

 

“I honestly can’t think of a way I’d rather spend the evening,” she settled on. 

 

Emma beamed at her like she’d turned the city Christmas lights on. Regina couldn’t help herself, involuntary words spilled over like a waterfall crashing over stone. 

 

“I really want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to for a long time.”

 

Regina froze, realising what she had said. Out loud. To Emma Swan. 

 

“Oh-” Emma said. It wasn’t entirely unexpected. And God, she had wanted to kiss Regina since she had stared at her with fire in her eyes as she stood over her beloved apple tree with a chainsaw in her hand. After the few indications today that Regina might feel more than a tentative friendship for her, she was practically burning with the need to do something about it. But properly. Regina deserved properly. Without being worried about their son interrupting. And with the option of escalation. So instead of racing to tell Regina that she very much wanted that too, she fought against the truth bubbling in her veins to say, “can you wait for like, 15 minutes?” 

 

Regina felt nervous and excited all in the same breath, but tentatively agreed. 

 

Emma squeezed her hand for good measure, dropped it and stormed into the hallway.

 

“Henry,” she spoke at conversational volume, surprising Regina who had braced herself for a loud shout. “Get yourself downstairs, I know you’ve been eavesdropping.”

 

“So you’ve been truth-bombed?” He asked, confirming Emma’s suspicions. 

 

“It’s bad manners to listen in on private conversations, Henry,” she admonished, blushing as she considered all of what he might have overheard. 

 

Regina nodded sternly in approval. “Just how much did you overhear, dear?”

 

“You were shouting quite loudly on the phone to David. I filled in the blanks,” he offered sheepishly. 

 

“So you won’t take it personally if I tell you I’m going to need to take you back to the loft?”

 

“But I only just got here, and I hardly ever get to see Mom,” he moaned petulantly. Regina looked very much on the verge of tears as she leant town, ruffled his hair and spoke directly to her adopted son.

 

“I love you, Henry. These evenings are my favourite part of the week, and I wouldn’t cut this short unless I really had to. But Emma and I are dangerous right now and I don’t want to say anything that could hurt you. I never ever want to do that.”

 

Emma watched them fondly, waiting for Regina to have her precious moment before she spoke.

 

“And that ain’t no lie, kid.”

 

Regina turned and smiled curiously at her. 

 

“I could get used to you having my back, Emma,” she said. 

 

Henry’s eyes sparkled, despite his nose scrunching, and Emma was floored by how much he looked like his other mother. 

 

“I promise you I’ll fight for a rain check on tonight. Something tells me that Mary Margaret and David will be a bit more inclined to allow it now,” Emma said, rather than run the risk of saying something that Henry really wouldn’t want to hear.

 

“Now that they know Mom isn’t guilty?” Henry asked, and to him the world really was that black and white. It was his most endearing quality. 

 

She nodded to reassure him, not trusting her words. “Now they know what we have known all along.”

 

”Did you find out who did it? Who framed Mom?” He asked, protectiveness lining his voice and causing a lone, solitary tear to canvass his mother’s cheek. 

 

“Not yet, kiddo. But David might use your help to look over some more evidence just in case.”

 

Really?” He asked, thrilled at the thought.

 

“Let’s ask him nicely,” she said, not promising anything. “Are you ready to go?”

 

He ran upstairs to grab his bag, and just as he and Emma were about to cross the threshold, he padded back to Regina and wrapped her in a bear hug.

 

“I’m sorry you got poisoned, Mom,” he said gently. “But I’m glad the truth came out. You deserve to be happy just like the rest of us.”

 

“Hen-ry,” she breathed, voice wobbling. “I love you more than anything.”

 

“Bye Mom,” he responded softly. “See you soon.”

 

“Can’t wait,” she enthused, and she meant it.

 

~.~

 

Emma returned around twenty minutes later, slightly flushed and angry-looking.

 

“I love the way your hair goes wild around your face when you come in from the wind,” Regina said by way of greeting. “In fact, I love your face, period.”

 

There was a weird bluntness to the way Regina spoke under the influence of this truth serum, and Emma found herself wishing that Regina would say those words for real one day.

 

“And I love the fire in your eyes when you get angry,” Regina continued, not even trying to fight it any more. “It was hot even when I thought I hated you.”

 

“Thanks for the welcome,” Emma chuckled in reply to Regina's runaway compliments. Regina, it turned out, was the perfect antidote to her frustration with her parents. It wasn’t the first time she had made her feel better, but it was the most instantaneous in effect, and Emma was slightly breathless at it. 

 

“Well, you took 5 minutes longer than you said you would. I had plenty of time to think about you while you were gone,” she admitted, blushing despite her own insistence that she wasn’t embarrassed by the truth-bombing any more.

 

“You missed me?” Emma teased lightheartedly.

 

“I do not want to answer that question,” Regina replied triumphantly. But her eyes were all the answer that Emma needed. 

 

“We could kiss instead of questions then, if you still wanted?” Emma offered, taking the plunge. 

 

Regina’s heart swelled to think that despite her babbling Emma was giving her control. It also meant that she had been serious when she had said she also wanted to kiss her. Obviously, she had meant it. But Regina had spent an entire life feeling unloved and unwanted and it was hard to unlearn that, truth serum or no truth serum.

 

“There is very little I would like more than that,” she murmured after a moment, gathering her racing thoughts and stepping towards the tall blonde. 

 

“I can't think of a single thing I want more than this,” Emma spoke suggestively, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and closing the remaining space between the two of them. “And Regina,” she continued, “I’ve thought about kissing you a lot.”

 

That did it. Famous restraint be damned. Regina launched herself forwards, grabbing Emma’s broad shoulders for leverage as she stood on tiptoes and hauled Emma’s lips to her own.

 

It was as though a dam broke the instant their lips met. Her entire body felt alive with the heat of a thousand red suns, and she suddenly couldn’t control her hands, finding them all over Emma’s toned body. Everywhere they touched, she felt white heat burning under the surface of her fingertips. She fell into Emma’s embrace as though falling through air - so quickly her heart leapt into her throat, and with nothing to cushion her fall. 

 

When she leant back, gasping, she felt different. 

 

The light was catching what looked like dust motes around them, sparkling like glitter in the late hour. But Regina’s house was cleaned to within an inch of its life - magically. So there shouldn’t be any dust to sparkle.

 

“That doesn’t usually happen when I kiss-” Emma stopped halfway through her sentence. The fact that she was able to stop would have floored her, if she hadn’t already done so at the beautiful, rumpled, thoroughly ravaged woman in front of her.

 

“Regina you are so fucking stunning,” she said, because she wanted to, and because it was true.

 

It hit Regina before it did Emma, which was unsurprising.

 

“Emma,” she said slowly, not wanting to startle her. “I think that might have been-”

 

Her voice was hesitant. She didn’t want to break this perfect moment, or take away Emma’s perfect smile. She kissed her gently to build up the courage to continue. Her lips felt tingly from the sensation of Emma’s soft lips moving firmly against her own. 

 

“Do you feel it too?” She asked instead. 

 

“Like I don’t need to share every single thought that pops into my head, you mean?” Emma chuckled softly. 

 

“Yes. Like perhaps that kiss broke the spell?” Regina spoke heavily. 

 

“Like it’s True Love’s Kiss, you mean?” Emma steamrollered. It was what she did. And Regina was starting to love her for it.

 

“Yes, just like that,” Regina returned, eyes sparkling.

 

“Oh - oh!” Emma exclaimed, realisation dawning on her. “Like we - you and I - we are?”

 

“I guess that’s implied, yes.”

 

Emma kissed her softly, speaking without words for a moment as she allowed herself to enjoy the motion of skin against skin.

 

“I mean, I do love you, Regina,” Emma broke the silence. Her voice was patient and gentle, and Regina still felt like she needed to run away. Only Emma’s hands at her waist kept her there. “Truth serum or not, I already knew that.”

 

“I am still appalled at what David did,” Regina groused. “But I have to admit it did work out quite well for me.”

 

“Name cleared and girlfriend acquired all in one evening, you mean?”

 

“Girlfriend? We’ve not even gone on one date, Emma.”

 

”Yeah but we both know it’s the truth, and I want this,” Emma smiled at her, and Regina’s cheeks were starting to ache at all of the reciprocation. 

 

“Okay,” Regina said simply. “Me too.” 

 

It wasn’t as elaborate or as elegant as all that she had said under the influence of the truth serum, but somehow it was a louder “I love you” than anything else that evening. 

 

“Do you think it’s ok if we don’t let anyone know it’s worn off until the morning?” Regina said, her voice low and dangerous.

 

“I would be ok with that,” Emma replied, voice equally close to the floor. “If you’re sure you don’t mind me staying.”

 

“It’s a date,” Regina smiled. Then, like the perfect hostess she was, she offered Emma a drink and a spare set of pyjamas. And once Emma was dressed in Regina’s spare silk, sitting on the couch and sipping from a glass of her famous cider, she gave her a look of such fondness that they were soon kissing again. Hands were wandering over even fewer clothes, and Emma felt for a fleeting moment that she was glad that the truth had come out. Now she could rage in righteous protection of her girlfriend’s honour tomorrow morning. And shield Regina with righteous arms for the night before.