"Hurry up, Emma!" I yelled up the stairs. "Granny's will be closed by the time you're done!"
"You're the one who told me to change!" She yelled back. "What's wrong with my jeans, anyways?"
I rolled my eyes. "Nothing, except that's all you wear, and your mother is probably going to want pictures. Come on, now, your parents are waiting!"
"Alright, alright!" I could hear shuffling upstairs as she rushed to grab her things. I was certain I heard three distinct thumps, and started to get worried for Emma...and my furniture. Finally, Emma rounded the corner and started barreling down the stairs.
"Don't run down the stairs, you'll break your ankle...or your face," I scolded. Emma, however, didn't listen, and continued speeding down the stairs until she tripped on the bottom steps and crashed into me.
"Oof!" I exclaimed, the force of Emma's weight almost knocking me over. I managed to catch my balance and grab Emma just in time to stop us from crashing on the floor. "What did I tell you?" I said, straining to help Emma on her feet. "What the hell, Emma? Did you put bricks in your pockets?"
"Haha, very funny," she replied sarcastically. She stood up and brushed herself off, and I got my first good look at her. She was wearing a simple black scoop necked dress, black leggings, black boots, and her classic red leather jacket; her hair was pulled into a low side ponytail and gently curled; and her soft gold eye makeup complimented her bright red lip. I smiled as I looked her up and down, raking my eyes over her figure.
Emma noticed. "Like what you see, Madam Mayor?" she asked in a low, seductive voice.
"Oh, I do." I snaked my arm around Emma's waist and pulled her close, until the heat of her body pressed against mine.
"Mmm. Didn't you say something about being late?" she asked.
I leaned my head down until my lips barely brushed against her ear. "They can wait," I whispered. I felt her shiver against me, and smiled triumphantly. I began to lean my head further down, pressing my lips lightly on her soft neck. Emma giggled, but before I could continue she placed her hands on my abdomen and gently pushed me away.
"Come on," she insisted. "Mom's probably going to be annoyed already, and we don't want to piss her off."
I begrudgingly agreed, and grabbed my purse and keys off the table, grumbling my way towards the door. Emma stopped in the doorway and turned to face me. Startled by her sudden halt, it was all I could do to stop from running into her. As I stopped my momentum and regained my balance, I looked up to see Emma staring back at me, an eager, mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Don't worry," she purred, "we'll finish this...discussion tonight."
Now it was my turn to shiver, as excitement and anticipation raced down my spine. Emma smiled, pleased at my reaction, and turned to begin walking to Granny's. I paused outside the door to lock it, and jiggled the handle briefly until I was satisfied that it was secure. Then I hurried to catch up to Emma who, not having bothered to wait for me, was already more than halfway down the walk.
"Hey, thanks for waiting up!" I said sarcastically.
"Oh, Regina! Nice of you to show up!" she replied in an overly-cheerful voice. I merely rolled my eyes in response. I loved the woman, but sometimes she could be infuriating.
Emma seemed to notice. "Hey," she said in a slightly sweeter voice. I turned to see her staring at me. She smiled apoligetically and threaded her fingers through mine. I smiled back at her; I could never stay mad at her for long.
We walked the familiar path to Granny's, holding hands and swinging our arms like we were on a cheesy romantic comedy, complete with the bright moonlight, twinkling string lights, and cheesy stupid grins. Even after almost two years of marriage, we still acted like lovesick teenagers sometimes, but we didn't care.
Eventually we made it to Granny's, the familiar smell of apple pie and french fries beckoning us from the street. The smell intensified as we walked under the blue wooden archway, and I could picture Emma's mouth watering at the delicious promise of fattening food. I didn't have to picture it long, however, because when I turned to look at her my vision had become a reality. I laughed joyfully at my childish wife. Her face changed suddenly as she turned to me in confusion. I gave her a wink to reassure her. Her face instantly softened, and she resumed drooling in anticipation of fried confections.
We finally made it to the steps leading up to Granny's. I walked out first and reached for the handle, but before I turned the knob, I turned back to face Emma with a sheepish grin.
"Sorry," I mouthed silently.
"Wait, what?"
Before she could question me further, I threw open the door, stepping aside immediately so that Emma could see inside of the diner.
"Happy Birthday!" the crowd exclaimed in a celebratory chorus. The sound of cheers and clinking glasses resonated throughout the diner. Everyone was there: David and Mary Margaret were sitting shourlder to shoulder at their usual booth; Leroy and the rest of the dwarves were sitting at the bar, frosty mugs of beer raised high to salute the birthday girl; Ruby stood behind the counter, evidently in the process of refilling Doc's glass when we arrived; Robin, Roland, and Pocahontas sat towards the back, while Geppetto mystified the young boy with his newest toy; Mother and Eleanor had pushed one of the tables next to David and Mary Margaret's to create one long table, so that the whole family could sit together.
Emma slowly stepped through the doorway, surprise and confusion lining her face.
"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, laughing. "I definitely wasn't expecting this!" Then she turned to me. "I thought we were having a small family dinner..."
"Hey, don't look at me!" I said, throwing up my hands defensively. "It wasn't my idea. Your mother would have killed me if I'd spilled the beans."
"It's true!" Mary Margaret agreed, laughing. Emma's eyes flicked between us, narrowing in suspicion. However, after a few moments her face relaxed as she accepted our testimonies.
"Well, I'll definitely be having a talk with you later," she said, looking pointedly at Mary Margaret. She chuckled, knowing that Emma was only joking. "Well," she sighed, turning to face me, "let's do this." She took my hand, intertwining her fingers with mine, and led me forward into the crowd.
Emma greeted each of the guests in turn. Despite her late start and confident attitude, I could tell that she was still trying to fulfill her her role as princess, as well as town sherriff. Her back was just a tiny bit straigher, her shoulders only slighhtly pulled back. Nobody else would have noticed anything different.
But nobody else married her.
Finally, after we had greeted everyone and Emma had accepted their congratulations and well-wishes, we sat at the table with our family. We sat in the booth, across from David and Mary Margaret. Eleanor and my mother were sitting next to the Charming's, in the chairs of the other table. I was in the corner, directly across from Mary Margaret, and Emma sat next to me. As I looked around the table, I realized that someone was missing.
"Where's Henry?" I asked.
As if on cue, Henry appeared from around the corner.
"Hey, Mom!" he said cheerfully, waving at me. "I'm sorry, I was just messing with the jukebox." He walked behind Emma's chair and hugged her from behind. "Happy Birthday, Mom!"
"Thanks, Henry," she responded, a genuine smile spreading across her face as he let go and sat down next to Emma.
Suddenly, my mother began to cough violently. She bent over, clutching a hand to her chest, the other arm covering her mouth.
"Mother, are you alright?" I asked, concerned.
"I'm okay," she assured me. "It's just that damn cough. It'll be gone in a few days."
I nodded. Mother had been coming down with something for a while. She was tired, and less animated. This past week she'd come down with a cough. Nothing serious, but it put a damper on things. The entire table was silent, after the awkward interruption. No one knew what to say.
Thankfully, Ruby appeared from around the corner with a tray of food. Emma's eyes lit up with child-like joy as two slices of warm, melty girlled cheese and onion rings were placed in front of her. Her mouth began watering again, but she refrained from devouring her meal until everyone else was served. I had to stop myself from laughing, because I could see the internal struggle she was going through over this sandwich. As soon as the last plate was placed in front of Henry, Emma started digging in, ripping through the greasy food ravenously. Despite all her attempts to seem ladylike, she looked like she hadn't eaten in days.
We all followed suit, eating our food with slightly less vigor. We talked, laughed, and even played a few games over the next few hours. Henry suggested a game of Yo Mama, but David pointed out that it wouldn't be a good idea, seeing as how there were four mothers sitting at the table. Instead we played 20 questions, multiple variations of the alphabet game, and scattergories. By the end of the night, Emma was positively glowing with happiness.
It was a perfect night, but all good things must end. Eleanor and my mother were the first to go. Eleanor said something about getting some cough medicine and Vitamin C for Mother before bed. About ten minutes later, Mary Margaret and David announced that they, too, were leaving. Emma and I decided to leave, too, and we all hugged and said our goodbyes outside of Granny's. Emma thanked them for the lovely surprise party, and grudgingly admitted that it was absolutely perfect. Henry went with Mary Margaret and David. As they turned away, Mary Margaret whispered something in David's ear. I could have sworn I saw David's ears turn a light shade of pink.
After their car disappeared from sight, Emma turned to me. "I can't wait to get home and continue our...discussion," she said in a low voice.
I smiled mischeviously. "Why wait at all?" Then, with a flick of my wrist, we were engulfed in purple smoke. When the smoke disappated, we were home, just inside the doorway.
Emma raised an eyebrow at me. "A little eager, are we, Madame Mayor?"
"You have no idea." Then I stepped forward, pulled Emma close, and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around my neck, passionately kissing me back. No matter how long we were married, I would never get used to this: her body pressed against mine, her fingers running through my hair, the tase of her soft lips in my mouth. I wanted to take her right then and there.
But there was something I still had to do.
Reluctantly, I pulled myself away from Emma's embrace. She opened her eyes, cocking her head in confusion. "I'm sorry," I said breathlessly, "but I still haven't given you your present."
"Regina," Emma scolded, "I told you not to get me anything!"
"I didn't," I responded. "I didn't buy anything. But that doesn't mean I don't have anything for you."
That peaked her interest. "What's that?"
"Come and see." I led her into the living room, and motioned for her to sit. She obliged, still looking confused. I went to the cupboard, pulled out a tray laden with different alcoholic drinks, and placed it on the coffee table in front of Emma. "Pick whichever one you like," I said.
Emma deliberated for a moment. Then she lifed up the smallest bottle and held it before her. The golden liquid swirled and danced, almost as if it were alive, sparkling in the light and dazzling Emma. It was the ambrosia that she'd asked about when she met me in my office, the night she first...stayed over. "What about this?" she asked.
"Whichever one you like," I repeated.
Emma nodded, and began unscrewing the top.
"Hold on!" I warned. "You can't just drink ambrosia on its own. It will kill you!" I took the bottle from her, and grabbed two glasses from the cupboard. I took the small pitcher of water from the center of the tray and poured it into the two glasses. Then I took the ambrosia, and carefully held it over Emma's glass. I let four drops fall into the glass before I stopped, and handed the glass to Emma. Although there were only four drops of ambrosia in her glass, the water immediately became almost as vibrantly gold as the ambrosia. Then I did the same to my glass, with the same result. I magicked the tray and all it's contents to the dresser top, and sat down next to Emma on the couch.
"To my birthday girl," I toasted, smiling lovingly at Emma.
Emma smiled back, and replied, "To my beautiful wife."
Then we clinked glasses, and started drinking.
It was like nothing I'd ever tasted before. It was delicious, amazing, and exquisite. It was sweet and tart, warm and cool, familiar and brand new all at the same time. It was the most delicious thing I'd ever tasted in my life. Then I began to feel the affects of the drink. I suddenly began to feel lighter and lighter, until I became weightless. I giggled at the new sensation; I never giggled. Everything looked brighter, happier, and I felt like I was doing the same. Then I saw Emma. She was literally glowing, rays of light seeming to stream from her body. I could see everything in greater detail: every curve, every line, every hair, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. She was grinning euphorically, staring at nothing and laughing. Then she turned to look at me, and her eyes widened. She looked me up and down, studying my every feature. She beamed, her face lighting up.
I couldn't hold myself back anymore. I leapt at her, at the same moment she leapt towards me. Our lips crashed together, kissing each other ravenously, and held each other close. But it was never close enough. Before I knew what was happening, my coat was gone, lying on the floor at my feet. Emma began working on my blouse, impatiently fumbling with the buttons. Finally, she gave up, and ripped it off of me. The buttons scattered across the floor, quietly clinking on the hardwood. I gasped as the cold air hit my bare skin. I could feel Emma smile at my reaction. She trailed her cold fingers up and down my back. I shivered, arching my back, which pressed me up against Emma more. Every one of my nerves were hyper-alert, every sensation was stronger and more intense.
I needed her. Now.
I didn't even bother with Emma's dress. I waved my hand, and it poofed on the chair along with her leggings and shoes. Now Emma sat before me, in nothing but her underwear. Apparently, she had the same idea, because suddenly my skirt and shoes disappeared, and I was also in my underwear. I could feel my need deep in the pit of my stomach, and I could hardly control myself. Without breaking contact with Emma's lips, I pushed her down on the couch and straddled her. For the first time since we began, I lifted up my head to look at my wife. She was glowing brighter than ever, almost blinding me. When my eyes adjusted, I could see Emma sprawled out below me, her hands hanging over the arm of the couch, and a wide grin spread acrss her face. She was so beautiful, I couldn't see anything else.
I shook myself out of my reverie, and leaned back down to kiss my wife. I trailed my lips from her cheek down her neck, and began sucking on the place where her neck met her shoulder.
"Regina," she moaned, writhing beneath me. Her leg lifted in between my thighs, making me arch my back and moan. But I continued, down her shoulder to her breast. The last thing I could clearly remember was throwing her bra across the room.