A/N: Prompt from The-Writer2012 for being my 300th reviewer on A Trail Of Destruction - Emma loses her yellow bug. Regina tries to make her a special dinner to cheer her up, not realising that she is in fact seriously allergic to one of the ingredients.
I had SO much fun writing this one! Unfortunately I don't have any food allergies though, so I had to base all of this on what happened to me the one time that I took penicillin. Therefore, if there are any serious inaccuracies: my bad.
Please keep the prompts coming, guys! :D
DELAYED GRATIFICATION
'I just don't understand how you've managed to lose a car,' Regina said, switching the phone across to her other ear. At the other end of the line she could hear Emma slamming her desk drawer shut.
'I didn't lose it, Regina, it was stolen.'
'From the sheriff station parking lot?' Regina asked. 'Don't you have security cameras?'
'No, okay?!' Emma said through gritted teeth. 'It's the sheriff station! Who steals from the sheriff station?!'
'Well. We'll never know, I suppose,' Regina said, trying not to laugh. 'Since there isn't any footage of it.'
She didn't receive a reply. Instead, she heard what sounded worryingly like a sniffle coming from the other end of the call.
'Emma?' she asked, now sitting upright in her chair. 'Are you okay?'
'I'm fine.'
'No you're not. I'm sorry, I was joking. It's just… it's only a car, dear.'
'It is not just a car!' Emma exploded, now definitely crying. She scrubbed at her cheeks, furiously ordering the tears to leave her alone. They kept coming, and her voice started choking under the weight of them. 'It was my first home, Regina – I lived in that car when I couldn't afford walls. Even when the rest of my life was falling to pieces it was the only damn thing that stuck by me. I know you hate it, but I love that car, and now some bastard's gone and taken it from me. They may as well have stolen Henry.'
Regina raised her eyebrows. 'Okay. Now you might be overreacting.'
'I am not overreacting.'
Regina could hear her choking back sobs. She bit down on her bottom lip.
'Look,' she said. 'It's a small town: we'll find it. I promise you. I'll make sure that we find it.'
'Right.'
'Stop being such a pessimist.'
'Regina—'
'Go back to work, Emma,' Regina insisted, leaning back in her chair. 'Try and take your mind off of it. And then if that doesn't work, when you get home tonight maybe I'll be able to take your mind off of it.'
There was a pause.
'Is that so?' Emma asked with sudden interest.
'If you stop crying and get back to work, then it might be.'
'Will you pick me up later?'
'I'm afraid not. You'll have to walk.'
'What? It's raining, Regina! Why can't you come and get me?'
'Delayed gratification, dear. Something that you need some serious training in. Besides, I have some things to prepare. I haven't got time to be your taxi service as well.'
'Fine,' Emma huffed, curling a strand of blonde hair around her finger. 'I'll be home by six.'
'Make it seven.'
'What? Regina—'
'Delayed gratification, Emma,' Regina smirked. 'See you later.'
'Regina—'
But she was gone. Emma ended the call with a snort of annoyance, then she turned back to her computer.
After dropping Henry off at Kathryn's house for the evening, Regina stopped off at the grocery store and collected all of the ingredients that she would need for that evening's dinner. She had tried on many occasions to cook something nice for Emma: homemade casseroles, her best lasagne, and once even a painfully fiddly lobster. Every time Emma has murmured her approval and dutifully cleared her plate, but it was nonetheless obvious that this wasn't the food that she really enjoyed. So tonight, Regina was going one better: gourmet mac and cheese. Her favourite meal, but improved tenfold.
Wearing the tight black dress that she knew drove Emma crazy, she breezed around the mansion's enormous kitchen getting the meal ready. It took her nearly half an hour to grate the four different types of cheese, plus the pungent nutmeg that was going to be sprinkled on top, without breaking any of her nails, but eventually the dish was in the oven and the mayor found herself leaning patiently against the counter with a glass of red wine in hand, waiting for the clock to finally crawl around to seven o'clock.
Just as it did, the front door opened. Moments later a sopping wet Emma appeared in the threshold of the kitchen, her eyes quickly spotting the dress that the mayor was wearing and widening.
'Oh,' she said.
'Welcome home,' Regina said, not moving. She held out a second glass. 'Wine?'
'I should…' Emma faltered, not moving. 'I should get changed. But…'
'But…?'
'What are you cooking?' Emma asked, taking a small step into the room. Regina forced herself not to laugh at the apprehension in her eyes: it partially came from the fear of being force-fed something that would make her heave, and partially from the fact that Emma knew that if she took another step closer to the brunette then she wouldn't be able to stop herself from throwing herself at her.
'You'll find out soon,' Regina smiled. 'But you'll like it. I promise.'
'Okay,' Emma replied, still looking longingly at the perfectly fitted dress on her body.
'I thought that you were getting changed?'
'I was.' Emma said, shaking her head. 'I mean, I am. I will. Now.'
She disappeared through the doorway and sped up the stairs, leaving a small pool of rainwater on the kitchen floor. Regina chuckled to herself, bending to wipe it up, then returning to the counter like she hadn't moved.
When Emma returned moments later, her blonde hair towel-dried and a new set of clothes thrown haphazardly on, she didn't hesitate before she tore across the room towards the woman with whom she'd been living for the last four months. Regina watched her stumbling towards her, and she didn't flinch. Her usual cool smile remained firmly fixed on her face, tinged with something that always looked a bit like disbelief: disbelief that she'd chosen someone so clumsy and awkward and adorable to fall in love with. Disbelief that someone so clumsy and awkward and adorable had also chosen her in response.
Emma reached her side and, after gently easing the glass of wine from her hand, looped her arms around Regina's neck and pressed her lips against hers. She could feel Regina smiling against her mouth.
'I'm glad you're home,' the brunette said after a few moments, leaning her forehead against Emma's.
'Me too,' Emma said quietly, sliding her hands down to Regina's narrow waist. 'It's been a seriously crappy day. I've really needed a Regina hug.'
Regina responded by pulling the blonde closer to her, the entire length of their bodies now touching in the same way that their foreheads were. Her smile fell after a moment.
'I'm sorry for laughing at you,' she mumbled, closing her eyes. She immediately felt the press of Emma's lips against hers.
'It's okay,' she said, leaning back so that she could smooth Regina's hair away from her temples. 'I was overreacting. You're right: this is a small town. We'll find it. And even if we don't… well. It's just a car.'
'But it's the bug, Emma,' Regina said, her forehead creasing. 'It means everything to you.'
'It did once,' Emma agreed, leaning forwards to bury her nose in Regina's hair. 'Not anymore.'
'No?'
'No. Something else kinda stole my attention.'
Regina didn't bother to hide the smile that pulled at her mouth. 'Oh.'
Emma sniggered in response. 'You're blushing, Madam Mayor.'
'I am not. It's just warm in here.'
'It's still quite impressive, given that you're wearing a dress that cuts off the circulation to your head.'
'I've never heard you complaining about it before now, Miss Swan,' Regina replied, her dark eyes glinting wickedly.
Emma raised one eyebrow in response, sliding her hands down Regina's back until they reached the first of many curves that drove her insane.
'No,' she said quietly, smiling. 'You probably haven't.'
They stood like that for a few moments, each woman watching the other with their eyes wide and waiting. Neither leaned forwards, but neither let go.
Then Emma's nostrils suddenly flared, her head snapping to one side so that she could attempt to peer into the oven. 'Is that mac and cheese that I can smell?'
Regina rolled her eyes, pushing the blonde woman off of her. 'You were right: the car doesn't mean everything to you. Your stomach does.'
'You've made me mac and cheese?'
'Of sorts.'
'Jesus Christ, Regina,' Emma groaned, reaching out to grab Regina's hand when she attempted to glide past her. She pulled her back to her, fiercely kissing her in the way that she only did when she was really, truly overwhelmed. 'I fucking love you, you know that?'
'It's only a meal, dear,' Regina tried to sound collected, not wanting to let herself smile. She took one look at the dopey expression on Emma's face and immediately failed.
She quickly kissed her back, then turned to the oven.
'You'd better let go of me,' she warned as she felt Emma's grip on her wrist only tighten. 'If it burns, you'll only have yourself to blame.'
The fingers on her skin loosened at once, and Regina went to put their dinner on the table.
The dining room was perfectly set, with candles on every surface around the edges of the room. Emma collapsed into her usual chair and waited for Regina to bring the food through from the kitchen, her knees bouncing impatiently beneath the table. When the dish appeared in front of her, she could have cried.
'That smells amazing,' she said, leaning forwards over it to inhale the fumes coming off of its rich, bubbling surface. 'I'm getting emotional, Regina. What the hell did you put in that?'
'About forty different types of cheese,' Regina replied, sitting herself down and nodding to the serving spoon. 'Help yourself.'
'You first.'
'Don't be ridiculous, Emma. This is for you. Help yourself.'
She had barely finished her sentence before Emma had snatched up the spoon, scooping mounds of the dish into her bowl with her mouth hanging open.
Regina hadn't even started to serve herself before the first forkful had been rammed between Emma's lips. Her eyes rolled backwards. The moan that came from her lips was so close to lustful that Regina felt her eyebrows shoot upwards.
'Jesus Christ,' she groaned, loading her fork up again and shoving it into her mouth. 'Jesus Christ. Regina. This is incredible.'
'It's mac and cheese, Emma, please calm yourself.'
'Never,' Emma shook her head, continuing to shovel the food between her lips. 'All of your meals will be set against this one from now on, you do realise? No more Thai curries or fancy risottos: make me one of these every night and I'm yours forever.'
'Given that I'm the one being forced to watch you eat it, I'm not sure that that's quite the reward that you're implying it is.'
Emma rolled her eyes, her temporary substitute for laughter, and pushed the fork back into her mouth. 'Seriously. What's in this?'
'Cholesterol,' Regina replied, finally beginning to eat some of her own serving. It was good, she had to admit it – but she could already feel her heart rate slowing down as a result of it. This would not become a regular feature in her kitchen. She didn't need an obese girlfriend as well as an exasperatingly inept one.
'There's something in here,' Emma said, shaking her head. 'I don't recognise it.'
'That's probably because I used actual cheese, not Kraft singles.'
Emma swallowed. Then her eyes narrowed.
'No,' she said, speaking slowly. She put her fork down. 'Hold on.'
Regina sighed. 'What is it now?'
Emma coughed slightly, still shaking her head. 'Seriously, Regina, what is in this?'
Rolling her eyes to the ceiling, Regina recited the ingredients. 'I don't know – pasta. Cheddar. Parmesan. Something that the cashier tried to assure me was gruyere but I'm actually fairly certain was—'
'What else?' Emma interrupted, coughing again. She had pushed the bowl away from her, and her eyes were suddenly eyeing the rest of the dish with suspicion. 'Regina – what else is in this?'
Regina just blinked. Emma's cheeks were going slightly pink, and her fingers were drumming anxiously against the edge of the table. 'Emma, what's wrong?'
'What else is in this? Besides all the cheese?'
'I don't know,' Regina shook her head, trying to think. 'Onions. Garlic. A bit of basil and I think I put some nutmeg on the—'
'Oh, shit.'
'What?' Regina snapped.
'Shit, shit, shit,' Emma grabbed her glass of water and drained it, coughing again. Her cheeks were pinker now. As was her throat. And, oddly, so was her chest. 'How much nutmeg?'
'I don't really know, I grated some on top and—'
She was interrupted by a choking sound coming from the woman sat opposite her. Emma suddenly tore her sweater off, tossing it onto the floor beside her. Sat in only her thin tank top, Regina found herself faced with the newly blotchy skin that was now covering the entirety of Emma's upper body.
'Oh, God,' she gasped, dropping her fork. '…you're allergic to nutmeg? Why didn't you tell me?!'
'Who the hell puts nutmeg in mac and cheese?!' Emma snapped, pushing the tips of her fingers against the sides of her throat. 'I didn't think I'd have to!'
She coughed again, more harshly this time, and Regina was forced to admit that the initial pinkness of her skin was slowly turning a resolute shade of red.
But there was something else. Something slightly more worrying.
'Emma, your neck… is it—?'
Emma coughed again, her eyes now wide with panic. 'It's swelling up. Oh God. Oh shit. I don't have an EpiPen here. I don't… oh shit, oh shit. Regina, you need to take me to the hospital. Now.'
'I… what?'
'The hospital, Regina!' Emma near-screamed, her nails now scratching at her throat. It was slowly expanding in size, like it was filling with hot air, and Emma's eyes were already streaming from sheer terror.
Regina could only stare. This was her fault and she… she didn't know what to do about it.
'Please, Regina!' Emma choked out, staggering to her feet.
'But I…' Regina stammered, shaking her head. 'I've had a glass of wine.'
'I don't care if you've been doing shots of tequila off of Sidney's stomach all afternoon, Regina, I need to see a doctor now. Please, can you get up and get into your goddamn car before my throat closes up and I fucking die?'
Regina forced herself to her feet. She walked around to the other side of the table, her legs wobbly beneath her, as she went to take Emma's arm.
'Right. Okay,' she said, still shaking her head. 'Car. Hospital. I can... yes.'
Tears were dribbling down Emma's swollen cheeks and onto the hot, mottled flesh of her neck as she let herself be led out of the house and into the passenger seat of Regina's Mercedes. Regina shut the door behind her, tearing around to the other side and forcing herself to get in. Her chest was aching, like she had been the one to ingest something that was most likely going to poison her, rather than the trembling woman who was sat next to her struggling to clip in her seat belt.
Regina leaned over her, took hold of the black strip, and firmly clipped it in place. She left her own one undone. Turning the key in the ignition, she spurred the car off of the driveway and began to race across town towards the hospital. Even over the revving of the tired old engine she could hear the sound of Emma struggling to hold onto a breath, and it killed her. She put her foot down and didn't turn her head.
We'll get to the hospital, she told herself, glancing up to look in the mirror above her head. We'll get to the hospital and then everything will be fine.
It was when Emma started to go quiet that she finally forced herself to look round at her.
'Emma?' she asked, then repeated it more loudly when she didn't get a response. 'Emma?'
One shaking hand rose up between them to let her know that the woman beside her was still alive. But Emma's face was turned away from her, and even in the darkness of the vehicle Regina could see that her throat was still growing thicker. It was suffocating her. Those trembling fingers fell back down into her lap again, and the wheezing sound of Emma's constrained chest became slower.
'Emma, if you dare die on me,' Regina snapped, reaching one hand to grip her knee. 'If you dare leave me, I will… I will…'
She couldn't finish her sentence, because although the cold, harsh reality of the current situation was finally catching up with her, the devastating potentiality of its aftermath was something that she couldn't yet bring herself to think about.
'Hold on for me,' she heard herself whispering, finding Emma's trembling fingers and squeezing down on them. 'Don't go anywhere. It's going to be okay. I won't let you leave me.'
The hospital was looming into view. She pressed harder on the gas, shaking her head to stop herself from crying.
'Emma?' she hissed across the car at the silent figure slumped beside her. 'Emma?!'
From Regina's chair at the side of the bed, Emma looked smaller than she ever had done before. Laying completely still under the thin white sheet, she reminded Regina of one of the dolls that her mother had given her when she was younger. Porcelain white skin and perfect blonde ringlets. Fluttering black eyelashes on lids that snapped shut when she lay back.
Regina ran her hands over her own face, smearing tears with mascara. She couldn't imagine how she must look. She couldn't imagine because, for the first time in her life, she simply did not care.
You certainly have a knack for poisoning people, Your Majesty, she snapped at herself, closing her eyes. At least that much can be said for you.
She heard the sob juddering from her chest, but she was powerless to stop it. Leaning forwards against her knees, she pressed her face into the palms of her hands and she let herself weep.
She had no idea how long she stayed like that for. It could have been weeks. All she knew was that, when a voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts, she jumped so violently that it may as well have pulled her out of death itself.
'I don't know why you're crying. You're not the one who nearly suffocated on your own tongue.'
Regina's head snapped upwards, able to recognise that voice absolutely anywhere and yet seeking out the source of it anyway just to make sure that she wasn't imagining things.
Emma was still lying back on the bed, her tangled curls laying about her in a bedraggled mane. But her eyes were open, and her mouth was smiling. Almost.
Then she caught sight of Regina's wet, black-smeared face, and she sighed.
'Jesus, Regina,' she said, reaching out a hand. Regina tumbled forwards to take hold of it, perching herself on the edge of the bed. 'Calm down.'
'I could have killed you!' Regina spluttered, leaning forwards and pressing a kiss against their interlaced fingers. 'Do not dare tell me to calm down!'
'I do dare,' Emma said with a faint smirk. 'Because I somehow suspect that the ball might be in my court for the foreseeable future.'
'How can you find this funny?!'
'Oh, Regina, relax – it was a little allergic reaction. It was an accident. It happens.'
'It was a little allergic reaction where you stopped breathing and it took a crash team to get you conscious again,' Regina snapped, throwing her head backwards. When she spoke again her voice cracked, coming from somewhere deep within her throat. 'I…I really thought that I'd lost you.'
'Regina…'
'I tried to do something nice for you and I ended up poisoning you. I am literally incapable of being a good person, aren't I?'
Emma suddenly tugged on their interlocked hands, pulling Regina sharply forwards. 'You know, if I had the energy, I'd slap you right now.'
'What?'
'Stop with the pity party, Regina,' Emma said, her gaze steady. 'You tried to do something nice and you did do something nice. Yeah, you did also poison me, but that was just as much my fault as it was yours – we're in a relationship. You should know what I'm allergic to. I should have told you.'
'I should have asked,' Regina replied miserably. Her words were met with an exasperated groan.
'Oh, God, will you stop?' Emma sighed. 'This isn't about you being a bad person, Regina! This is about you being a very, very, absolutely, completely and utterly, one hundred per cent good person. You made me a kick ass meal and I absolutely loved it. Can you please try to focus on how much I was enjoying it before the arsenic kicked in?'
Regina scowled at her for a moment. Then, quite unexpectedly, she sniggered.
'You were making some interesting noises,' she smirked, lowering her voice. 'At least, if nothing else, I've learned that if I can always make you moan by going through your stomach, rather than constantly trying to go between your legs.'
Emma blushed. 'You suck.'
'And yet you love me anyway.'
'I do not,' Emma said, already grinning. 'I have never, ever said that.'
'You don't need to say it anymore,' Regina said, edging herself forwards until she was able to lie down parallel to the blonde who was tangled between the thin hospital sheets. 'I saw your face when you ate your first bite of that meal. You can never leave me after this.'
'I could probably fucking sue you though.'
A bark of laughter escaped from Regina's lips. 'I'd like to see you try.'
'I have Mr Gold as a lawyer.'
'I don't need a lawyer, dear,' Regina muttered into her ear. 'I could reduce you to ash all by myself.'
Emma groaned. 'I don't understand how I can still find you so sexy even when you go all moustache-twirling on me.'
'It's a gift.'
Emma allowed herself to nuzzle her head against Regina's shoulder, sighing. 'It's a curse.'
'I've always been rather a fan of curses, you know.'
'So I've heard,' Emma replied, yawning. 'Just for the record: if you ever decide to make me an apple pie, I am leaving.'
'Duly noted, Miss Swan,' Regina said, planting a kiss against her blonde curls. 'Whatever you say.'
