Work Text:
Regina had never put much stock in the little timer hovering over her head. She'd been told, when she was a young girl by her mother, that the day she was born the timer had shown:
34.12.720.
Thirty-four years, twelve days and seven hundred and twenty minutes. The day she'd lay eyes on her soulmate.
At fifteen, thirty-four had felt like a lifetime away. Was she going to wait until she was an old lady (thirty-four, then, had sounded ancient) before she fell in love?
Regina had scoffed at the idea. Soulmates were nice, sure, when people could make them work. But her parents weren't soulmates, she wasn't even sure their timers worked. Neither of them had ever shown them to her. Many, if not most, people did not marry their soulmates.
And then she'd met Daniel. The boy with the broken timer. Born with his timer at 0. It was said that 0 meant one of two things; an early death, or a dead soulmate.
As it turned out, Daniel fit in the first category.
After him, Regina had given up on love. She'd forgotten all about the blinking little numbers over her head, and had stopped checking them almost entirely. Her husband had shown her what marriage meant, so she'd given up on that too.
All she'd wanted was revenge. She had no time for frivolous thoughts of true love and soulmate bonds.
Her revenge had been so all consuming that she'd forgotten. Forgotten that the very day she cast the curse was the day her timer had ticked down to zero. Many liked to count down the last few days, to watch their numbers with anticipation. Regina hadn't even realized until days later, in Storybrooke, when she'd looked up to see the glowing zeroes over her head.
00. They blinked at her.
She'd shrugged and moved on. She had other things to think about. Other people to grieve. And, once again, she'd forgotten.
She'd forgotten, that is, until David started telling them of the day he and Snow had met. How they'd both looked up in unison- watching their timers click down to zero together.
The story was saccharine. But Regina was friends with them now, and didn't do so much as roll her eyes.
And then, Henry had asked that fateful question.
David leaned back against his chair and grinned. He loved valentine's day. It was no secret, David was a huge romantic. And so was Snow. On that, they truly were soulmates.
They were soulmates in every sense of the word, actually. Like he'd been telling his captive audience of Henry, Emma and Regina.
Well, Henry was captive. Emma was drinking her morning coffee and watching him with bleary eyes. Possibly listening.
Regina was standing by the kitchen island, hands wrapped around her mug, and barely containing her eye rolls.
But Snow was listening, too. She'd set the huge bouquet of flowers he'd gotten her in a vase at the center of the dining table, and was busy rearranging them. She looked up occasionally to give him a sweet smile.
David took a long sip of his coffee and went on, meeting Henry's hazel eyes.
"So, there I was, in the middle of the forest, wondering where I was going to find my soulmate. Seriously," David grinned at Henry's small laugh, "I was in the middle of nowhere! But I knew she had to be close because I was down to a couple of minutes. And I start to think, oh no, I have a deer or a badger for a soulmate. You know, you hear those stories sometimes."
Henry laughed louder this time, and Emma shook her head, chuckling softly.
"And then I look up, and there she is! I couldn't believe my luck."
"Because I was stuck in a deer trap?" Snow asked with a laugh.
David got up and went to her, encircling her waist from behind, he kissed the side of her head, "because you were stunningly beautiful."
"I was?"
"You are."
Emma made a disgusted sound at the back of her throat and Henry turned to her.
"What about you, ma?"
Emma shrugged and took a long sip of coffee, "what about me?"
"What does your timer say?"
Emma looked up briefly, "zero," she said, "it's always been zero."
"Oh," Henry said, a little defeated, "that's—"
"That's not true," David said, "you had a timer as a baby."
Emma sat up, "really?"
"Yeah," David told her with a grin, "I remember picking you up and running down the hall, because" he glanced at Regina, who looked away, "well, you know."
"And?" Emma prodded.
"Well I was a bit busy saving your life, but I saw your timer. It was two minutes," he held up two fingers.
Snow nodded beside him, "it was! I remember thinking it must be the person who found you in this other world." She looked up suddenly, smiling wide, "so it's August! I knew it," Snow lit up, "what a nice surprise for your birthday! To find out who your soulmate is!"
David blinked. No. That wasn't right. It had been a chaotic few minutes, and he'd almost died, but he was certain.
"No—" he started to say, and then he caught sight of Regina.
Her fingers had gone white around her coffee cup, and she was staring into its contents like she wished to drown herself in them.
His lips parted.
Emma was busy arguing with her mother over August, and hadn't noticed his sudden stop.
Regina, however, had. She met his gaze. "I should go," she said, "wouldn't want to be late to work."
She was out the door seconds later, having rushed through her goodbyes. David grabbed his jacket and stumbled out something about having forgotten to tell her something.
He intercepted her on the stairs.
"Regina," he called, out of breath from bounding down. He stopped in front of her, halting her descent.
She gave him a look and tried to bypass him. He would have none of that, Emma was his daughter, damn it.
"You're Emma's soulmate," he said.
"I…" Regina swallowed, "I don't know—"
"It wasn't a question, Regina," he said, "you're her soulmate."
She stared at him, wide eyed.
"How do you know?"
He swallowed, remembering the theories he'd come up with while lying in his own blood. Waiting for the curse or death to take him.
"I saw her timer go to zero," he said, "when you walked in," he sighed and ran a hand over his face, "it was chaos, so I thought that maybe I was wrong. Maybe it had stopped a second earlier, or a second later. Maybe it was one of my men. Or one of yours. But seeing your face earlier…"
Regina looked away from him, "I'd completely forgotten about the timer," she said, "but it did stop that day. I don't know if it stopped when I saw Emma. Perhaps it's just a coincidence."
David scoffed, he didn't believe in coincidences. In his world, there was no such thing.
"Emma deserves to know," he said.
Regina blinked at him, "why? We don't know—"
"She deserves to know. And if you won't tell her, I will."
She studied him for a second, then she shrugged, "tell her. Emma will see it the same way I do."
David let out a breath. Of course she would. Because, no matter how much they claimed otherwise, Emma and Regina were quite similar.
He made his way back up, and Regina left.
Back inside, Henry was getting ready for school. His backpack packed and on his shoulders. Snow pressed his lunch into his hand.
"What's up?" Emma asked, furrowing her brow at his appearance.
"Can I talk to you?"
Emma's eyebrows rose, "uh, sure. Henry, you can walk yourself to the bus, right?"
"Sure, ma," the boy said with a grin, happy at being given this responsibility.
"I'll take you, Henry," Snow said, making his smile fall, "I'm going to be late, too, if I don't hurry."
Once the two of them were gone, David sat down next to his daughter.
Emma leaned back and watched him, clearly confused at his earnestness.
"Emma," he said, taking her hand, "there's something…"
He sighed, continuing as her brows furrowed further, "your mother is wrong, August is not your soulmate. Your timer stopped before I put you in the tree."
"Oh," she said. She thought about it for a moment, "so, who is?"
David tightened his squeeze around her hand, "well," he said, "I wanted to believe it was one of our guards, although they all died that day. Or even one of Regina's. But…"
"But?"
"Regina's timer stopped that day. The same day yours did."
"When she saw me?" Emma asked, her voice surprisingly even.
"She doesn't know."
David searched his daughter's face. But there was nothing there. Neither surprise nor disgust,not even happiness.
"Emma?"
"It could be a coincidence," she said.
He almost rolled his eyes.
"It could be," he agreed carefully, "maybe you should talk to her?"
"Yeah," Emma agreed nonchalantly. Getting up she pulled her jacket on and holstered her gun, "thanks for telling me. I gotta go to work."
David stared at his daughter's retreating form. Did neither of them realize how important this was?
He was going to have to intervene, wasn't he?
Emma glanced, for the hundredth time, at the little white zero above her head. She tapped her pen on the desk.
She'd always believed her soulmate was long dead. Or, some secret part of her had believed, that she didn't deserve a soulmate, that she would die alone and unloved.
When she'd met Neal, she'd long given up on true love. That just wasn't in the cards for her. So, when she'd met him, he'd been enough. And she had loved him, in whatever way she could. When things had fallen apart, when he'd betrayed her and let her take the fall for his crime, she'd lost whatever spark of hope she'd still had.
Emma Swan was not cut out for love. It wasn't in the cards for her, and it never had been.
Now, her father was telling her that wasn't true. That, actually, she'd had a chance. Two minutes. The first two minutes of her life. Why hadn't her parents told her? Well, she knew the answer to that. Because she'd been making her own way through life. She didn't need some timer telling her who to love. And she'd been with Hook. Anyway, her father had believed her soulmate was a dead guard. He probably hadn't wanted to break her heart.
Regina.
Her heart stuttered at the name. The woman who'd tried to kill her. Multiple times, actually. The mother of her child.
Her soulmate?
Emma shook her head. As much as the reveal made her feel light headed, as much as it injected hope into her battered heart, she couldn't trust it. It had probably been a coincidence. Nothing more.
Her phone buzzed, a welcome distraction. Picking it up, she read the message from her father.
We're having dinner at Regina's for your birthday tonight! Be there at 8.
Emma rolled her eyes. Really? The were going to make them play nice, tonight? Of all nights? Besides, Emma had very clearly said she didn't want to celebrate her birthday, she hadn't wanted to since she'd found out exactly what had happened that day. She'd insisted everyone go about their day normally, and celebrate valentine's instead. Her parents had actually been pretty good at sticking to their word.
Sighing, Emma supposed it made no difference. Nothing would change between her and Regina after today.
They weren't soulmates. They couldn't be.
Emma shivered at the thought. Black eyes swam before her vision and she sighed a little.
No. They couldn't be. It would be too complicated.
Emma was late. Two minutes late to be precise.
She hurried up the path that led to the mansion and rang the doorbell, trying to calm her panting.
"Emma," Regina opened the door. She wore a burgundy dress, with a deep V neck that made Emma's eyes water.
"Hey," she said, "brought wine," she held up the bottle of red and made he way into the house.
"Thank you," Regina said, taking it, "but where are your parents?"
Emma turned to blink at her, "what do you mean? Aren't they here?"
Regina pursed her lips and placed her hands on her hips, "no."
Sighing, Emma wandered into the dining room and let herself fall onto the sofa. "They're not coming, are they?"
Regina opened the bottle and poured two glasses, "maybe they're late."
"Yeah," Emma scoffed, "on Valentine's day."
It had just clicked in her brain. Why on earth would her parents, the most romantic people she'd ever known, want to spend Valentine's day with her, Regina and Henry? Sure, it was her birthday, but she'd specifically told them she didn't care.
"He wants us to talk, I think," Emma said, taking the glass of red Regina was handing her.
"Yes," she agreed, her dark hair fell in front of her face, hiding her expression.
Emma swallowed, then drank, "obviously," she said, "it's a coincidence."
Regina met her gaze, and Emma's heart rate picked up, banging against her rib cage.
"Obviously," Regina agreed.
Emma drank. The wine was good. Full and fruity. She drank some more.
"What if it isn't?" Emma stared down at her glass as she spoke.
"Emma…"
Regina relaxed against the sofa and sighed.
"Even if," she started slowly, "if. If we are soulmates. We…we can't do anything about it."
"Why not?" Emma's heart was now positively bursting. How many times had she dreamed of being with Regina? Of kissing her and touching her and running her hands through her hair? She'd always told herself Regina would never want her back, but now…
"First," Regina said, getting up, "I'm thirty-four years, twelve days and a few hours older than you."
Emma grinned into her wine, "my soulmate is a sugar daddy," she giggled. Maybe the wine was getting to her.
Regina scoffed, her features betraying her surprise. Then she shook her head, "mommy, maybe."
Emma gasped. Not only was she surprised at Regina's response, it also sent a shock of desire down her legs and into her belly.
"Mommy," she said, musing, "I like—"
"Don't you dare, Miss.Swan," Regina growled, "I was joking."
Emma got up and walked to her, until they were a breath apart, "but today's my birthday," she murmured, "don't I get a present?"
Regina stared at her, then leaned into her space, even closer, until they were almost touching, "and what is it you want, then?"
The situation was quickly turning dangerous. Regina's perfume, mixed with the scent of her skin, was invading Emma. It made her dizzy.
This was not how the evening was supposed to go! Hadn't they said it was all a coincidence? Hadn't they said they couldn't?
Why couldn't they again?
Emma grinned, Regina's lips brushing against hers.
The feeling was intoxicating.
"Regina," she murmured, "what if, just tonight, we pretend it wasn't a coincidence?"
She felt the soft exhale from Regina against her lips, and for a moment was convinced she'd pull away.
Then Regina kissed her, and Emma believed in love again.
Emma's hands found her waist and she pulled her closer, wanting to feel her flush to her, wanting to feel all of her.
Emma had never had a kiss quite like this. Like fireworks and lightning strikes and earthquakes and and and. Like her whole world was being rearranged. All because of one kiss.
When they pulled away from one another, neither let go of her hold on the other. Regina's eyes were wide and gleaming , cheeks flushed.
"Oh," Emma said.
Regina laughed a little. "Yes," she said, "oh."
Emma kissed her again.
This time, the kiss grew hot and heavy. And they found themselves on the sofa, Emma's hands running up Regina's thighs, pushing the dress out of the way.
When they came up for air, Regina pressed her hand to Emma's chest. "I guess—"
"Soulmates," Emma said, and kissed her again. She was never going to grow tired of kissing her.
Regina smiled against her lips, "yes," she said, "happy birthday, Emma."