Chapter Text
Emma sat in her squad car, twisting her necklace between cold fingers. The metal was warm to the touch, and running her fingers along the circular pattern always seemed to calm her. She wasn’t nervous - she had little reason to be - but a familiar warmth spread through her as she thought about going inside.
The windows of Mills Manor were dark as usual. She pulled her coat tighter against the cold of wintery Maine and made her way to the door. It opened as she approached, seemingly of its own accord, and Emma smiled slightly as she slipped through the doorway into the warmth beyond.
“You came,” a voice said, a short distance to her left.
Emma turned and tilted her head slightly. “Yes,” she stated simply, pulling off her hat and shaking her hair free. “Why is it so damn cold?”
The voice laughed, stepping closer and slowly unwinding the scarf from Emma’s neck. A warm cheek pressed against hers, and the softest of whispers reached her ear, “You would think, Miss Swan, that the cold wouldn’t bother someone so tough.”
“Maybe I’m not that tough,” she retorted. She shifted slightly, pulling a bottle from her shoulder bag. “I brought wine.”
“Delightful,” Regina answered. The mask slipped from her face and she smiled, her features softening. “There’s a fire lit in the sitting room.”
Emma turned on her heels and made her way towards the back of the house, knowing Regina would follow. Since her return to Storybrooke weeks earlier, the two had settled into a strange relationship. It was difficult for Emma to describe, but in the days after coming through the well with Mary Margaret, she had often found herself outside the imposing house, searching for something she couldn’t quite grasp. Some days, she had even approached the gate, running her fingers along the cold iron in a misplaced caress. She had felt the pull of what she thought might be the new magic coursing through her – warm and energizing. Proximity to the house seemed to make the sensation grow stronger, though perhaps that had been in her head. One day, the door had opened and Regina stood in the threshold. Their gazes had locked for a moment before Regina faded backwards into the shadows, the door left open in invitation. Emma took it.
It had evolved from there – evenings spent in each other’s company - wine and conversation. It surprised Emma how at home she felt in this house – how comfortable and easy it was to talk to this woman who had so long been her enemy. She often thought back to the look on Regina’s face the day of her return – broken, yet hopeful, and it touched something in her. Mary Margaret and David warned her against trusting the Queen, and if they knew the amount of time she spent here, surely they would not approve. But Emma knew they were wrong.
She settled back into the warmth of the couch, hand outstretched to receive the glass of wine Regina extended to her. She took a sip and exhaled deeply.
“Long day?” Regina inquired, folding one leg beneath herself as she sat next to Emma, close enough to feel the heat from her skin, but not yet touching.
“Not particularly,” the sheriff answered, “you?”
A short laugh escaped Regina’s throat, “Ah yes, a long day of being shut up in my own house.”
Emma looked at her imploringly. “You know the house arrest is for your own good. The townspeople are still upset and David has them up in arms. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” She laid a hand on Regina’s leg and squeezed slightly.
“I am quite capable of taking care of myself, Sheriff Swan,” she replied dryly. She took Emma’s hand and raised it to her cheek, her eyes betraying her mock sternness. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”
Emma’s thumb slowly traced the outline of Regina’s lips, pausing at her scar. “Good,” she murmured back in a low tone, drawing Regina towards her.
Kissing Regina was something Emma had still not gotten used to. The need to be physically close to the brunette seemed to come from somewhere deep inside of her. She felt connected to her – perhaps through magic, perhaps through Henry, or perhaps through their histories - which though separate, were both colored with abandonment and loneliness. It was something they often talked about, and Emma felt that she had come to know a completely different version of Regina through her stories. She wished she could have met her in her youth – sometimes it was hard for Emma to wrap her mind around the fact that she wasn’t even alive then.
Regina took the wine glass from Emma’s hand, setting it on the coffee table in front of them. She tugged at Emma’s hips, pulling her lengthwise on to the couch and leaning over her, never breaking contact with her lips. “You seem distracted,” she whispered against them.
Emma threaded her fingers through Regina’s hair and pulled her face slightly backwards. “I’m thinking about what you’ve told me, about growing up in the Enchanted Forest. I’d like to have known you then.”
Regina placed the briefest of kisses on her lips and sat up. “You would not have been interested in me at seventeen, believe me. All innocence and no power.”
“I think I’d have liked you innocent,” she teased with a sly grin. “And I could have taken the stable boy.”
“I -I didn’t meet him until later. I was nineteen and my parents had just moved us further south-” Her eyes took on that far away look, as they always did when she was remembering Daniel. Emma cursed herself inwardly for bringing it up.
“Well, me at seventeen, let’s see. A tough-as-nails thief with a heart of gold.” She winked at Regina, trying to bring back some levity.
“You still have a heart of gold,” Regina said with a smile. “But the jury’s still out on the tough.”
Emma pulled on the collar of Regina’s blazer, bringing her back down on top of her. “I’ll show you tough, Madame Mayor.” Her lips found the skin of Regina’s neck and she bit down softly.
Regina laughed and captured Emma’s lips once more with her own.
***
The fire had burned down considerably as Regina lay in Emma’s arms later that evening. Blazer and other random clothing discarded, her skin was warm against Emma’s stomach. Regina’s breathing had become deep and even, blowing softly against Emma’s neck and warming her chilled skin.
Emma was awake, feeling a sense of contentment she long thought she had forgotten how to feel. Her hand slowly stroked Regina’s hair in an absentminded gesture, taking comfort in the silky strands against her fingers.
What was she doing? She asked herself that often in the past few weeks. This woman – she had tried to destroy everything – did destroy everything. Kept her apart from her parents, then kept her son away from her. She was cunning and deceitful and meticulous. But she was different now. Emma could feel it. She was trying to change – had changed, and had let Emma see a part of her few ever had. Sometimes she wondered how long it would last – and she worried that all of this could be taken from her as quickly as it had been given.
She wrapped her arms tighter around Regina, causing her to stir slightly. Her hand came to rest at Emma’s throat, fingers brushing the necklace warmed from the heat of their skin. Emma wondered if the brunette was dreaming – wondered what she dreamt of. Her? Or of times long past? She had spoken it to Regina earlier, half in jest – but part of her did wish she had met the younger version of her Regina. Maybe she could have spared her some pain – maybe they both could have.
Emma rolled her eyes, ‘wine and sex make you far too sentimental,’ she thought. ‘A short time in the enchanted forest, and you’ve painted yourself as a knight in shining armor. Her knight in shining armor.’
Still, they did seem to fit. Emma could still feel an energy coursing through her, and wondered if this was what Regina felt when she practiced magic. She felt aware and connected – to the town, but mostly to the woman in her arms. Maybe it was because it was Regina’s curse that gave her this power. Maybe it was because she was falling in love with her.
Her thoughts circled endlessly in her head until she joined her lover in slumber.