A/N: While my Beta and I discussed the possible plot lines for my next story (it's called Fighting for an Escape, and I'll start posting very soon), she said: "B, you could write about paint drying, and I'd find it interesting." Naturally, it is just an expression. However, challenge accepted! So, let's see if that is somewhat true. This fluffy one-shot is for her, but I hope you all enjoy it too. 😊
It had been two months before their wedding when Emma surprised Regina one lazy Sunday morning, as they lay in bed, with the idea.
"I think we should completely redecorate this room. Would that be okay?" Emma amended, with her voice changing from a confident to a slightly tentative tone as she added the question.
"Of course, why wouldn't it be?" Regina sensed Emma tense slightly as she lay in her arms, which immediately made Regina recognize her fiancé's concerns. Despite Emma having moved in months ago the house still felt and looked like Regina's, with the Savior's minimal belongings interspersed.
"I think that's a fabulous idea. And not just the bedroom, we should make the whole house feel more like ours," Regina added, altering the direction of the conversation with expert ease.
Emma snuggled happily into Regina's shoulder as her mind began to contemplate, organize, and analyze the nuances of interior decorating she had acquired over the years. Regina had a set style that was different from hers. The Queen had been fond of contrast and harshness, something Regina had yet to fully transition out of her home. Emma wanted to add some softness and color to their most intimate of rooms. She didn't care about the rest of the house; it could change with time as they built their lives around each other. This room though, it mattered. It was where they admitted their love, where they were free, where they confessed, asked, and were unabashedly honest with each other.
Since that day, Regina had resisted the task, not because of the final product, but due to the process Emma demanded they went through to achieve it. Manually, without magic. Regina frequently declared this evidence of insanity. She hadn't understood Emma's insistence that they did this in such a muggle-like, laborious, and time-consuming manner. It was as though her wife not only didn't embrace her gift but was incapable of seeing the benefits of such a simplified remodeling process.
In retaliation, Regina had made Emma suffer through a lengthy journey to an out-of-town hardware store, where she purchased an array of color samples that even she thought were a marketing ploy to sell different forms of the same shade. She relished how exacerbated Emma became as she made her stare at and then articulately and with great depth discuss the pros and cons of eggshell versus ivory versus the rather banal though, accurately termed, off-white. Although Regina would never admit it, she had studied color extensively just to tease the blonde further with her bottomless knowledge and leading questions.
Emma had quickly caught on to the Mayor's tactic, but feigned ignorance to turn the game against her by being just as obnoxious about the accent wall color. Regina was well aware that Emma neither cared nor knew any discernable difference between the cerulean or ocean blue, nor the two shades called smoke embers or harbor gray for the skirting boards and door frame. However, the humor of their banter was delectable; it made the hue in Emma's eyes sparkle, it made both smile when they thought they weren't being observed. Regina never wanted it to end.
Regina had incorrectly assumed Emma would allow magic for the prep work, that it is was merely the painting she would insist on tackling in such an archaic manner. However, with the excessive use of convincing green puppy eyes, the pair had spent the previous day removing and covering the remaining furniture. Emma had been busy late into the night happily sanding, undoing light fixtures, and a multitude of other tasks by which Regina was baffled. As the Mayor waited alone for her wife to return with previously forgotten supplies, she could only think about how that physical effort could have been expended in a more optimal manner. Christening their new king-size bed came to mind.
Awkwardly though, here she stood in the center of their bedroom wearing jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt. That alone as enough to make her feel out of her element. It was unsettling to be standing in her bedroom and feel hesitant of how to proceed, unsure of what her role would be. She looked at the pots and brushes Emma had laid out as she fiddled nervously with a wooden stirring stick. She felt great relief when Emma came bouncing in adorning ripped jeans and a tank top with her hair tied up and protected by a baseball cap advertising beer. It was a sight that always inspired Regina; she loved seeing her wife this way.
"I would suggest wearing old clothes; they're going to get ruined during this," Emma politely proposed as she took in her wife who still looked perfect. Her look was complete with expertly applied make-up, and her hair appeared to be professionally styled, as always.
"These are the oldest clothes I own. Can we just get started?" Regina asked dryly as she inspected the roller Emma had just handed her with great curiosity.
"Yep. This is the fun bit, I promise," Emma assured, showing her bright, broad smile that convinced Regina immediately. "I did the ceiling last night so we can start on the walls today," Emma said as she poured some paint into the tray, before showing Regina how to wet the roller and then how to apply it to the wall.
"This is it? Your definition of fun is just repetitive motion?" Regina said, her eyes dripping in incredulity.
"Isn't yours?" Emma quipped defiantly, her eyes teasingly suggestive. "Just give it a go. It will feel great to stand here when we're done and know we did it ourselves."
"Fine, but if this is literally as exciting as watching paint dry, then you will pay for it later, Miss Swan," Regina said as she turned and began coloring her wall in the exact shade it already adorned.
"Don't Miss Swan me. We're married now," Emma threw back as she gathered her blue paint. She gave a wry smile to her wife as she turned away to press play on Bowie's greatest hits, silently hoping she would have a price to pay. Cheerfully, she shook her head to erase the distracting thought before beginning to dance and sing as she tackled her wall on the opposite side of the room.
Regina appreciated how evident Emma's happiness was. She suspected that this was just another of this world's traditions that Emma needed to make her life feel normal. It's why she agreed to let Emma smash wedding cake into her mouth, throw her flowers to the congregation instead of taking them home, and consented to her wife carrying her over the threshold when the night had come to an end. That was only two weeks ago, and since they had returned from a weekend away together Emma had been focused on making this room theirs. Feeling the burn in her arm as her daydream ended, she turned to Emma for guidance as to whether a break in this manual labor would be acceptable. A glass of crisp apple cider would hit the spot. She saw Emma up on the ladder working on the upper edges, her enticing muscular arms on full display as she reached above her head. Regina did notice that Emma's wall was in its final stages, while hers was not even close to being halfway completed.
"Emma? Do you want anything?" Regina asked, already guiltily surmising she didn't need to work that hard, Emma would finish the job.
"Huh?" Emma asked over the loud music.
"Do you want anything?" Regina repeated, having adjusted Bowie to a much more amenable volume.
"Jeez Regina, how'd you stay so clean?" Emma wondered as she took in the fact the brunette was still immaculate. She quickly assessed her own appearance and took in the fine paint freckles that covered her arms, the smudge on her pants, the dried paint covering her hands.
"I thought the point was to put the paint on the wall, not ourselves," Regina retorted as she failed to hide the fact she was admiring how her wife's ass looked in these jeans that were clearly from the past. Her enjoyable distraction ended as she felt the sensation of moisture hitting her skin, with her wife giggling as a soundtrack.
"Oops," Emma said innocently as she stared intently at the brush in her hand. "Guess it just slipped," she added as she returned to the finishing her wall's edges.
Regina knew the best way to retaliate was not to cover the blonde in paint, for that would not infuriate Emma sufficiently. Instead, she summoned her white roller and with little forethought, flicked white paint all over Emma's newly painted blue wall. Emma glared at her, mouth opening and closing rapidly as she tried to find words to express her outcry.
"Oops, guess it slipped too," Regina teased raising her eyebrows. If the desired effect was to incense the blonde, the brunette had succeeded. Regina didn't get the opportunity to realize what her actions had unleashed before Emma plopped her brush in her pot of paint and unceremoniously flicked a generous amount of viscous blue fluid in the direction of her wife, which landed rather brusquely in her hair and covered most of the left side of her face. Emma's hearty laugh only increased the playful rage that she had sparked within her wife.
"You're going to pay for that!" Regina exclaimed as she ran to gather her brush so she could strike back sufficiently, her ability to use magic temporarily forgotten. Emma immediately descended the steps so she could at least defend herself and her wall. As Regina flicked paint at her scampering wife in a manner suitable for a fencing competition, the blonde shrieked, her cry full of her child-like personality as she reached for a tin of gray paint for ammunition. It wasn't long before each was holding their own tin of paint, brush drawn, circling the room, sizing up their opponent.
Neither would be able to claim the other reacted first. However, it didn't matter. It was only minutes until it was a full out war. More paint ended up on the walls, sheets, and the now uncovered segments of the floor than on their intended victim. The high-pitched screeches showed the delight both were reveling in. Emma couldn't believe how unrefined Regina now looked and Regina loved seeing Emma light up as her revenge took hold. Laughter escalated as shock subsided, echoing Regina's joy of chasing Emma in circles, flinging paint at the blonde without any chance of it hitting its target. Emma startled Regina as she suddenly stopped mid run, causing the brunette to crash into her, clattering her pot right into her wife's torso.
Emma squealed as she felt the paint trickle down her shirt, her feet now squelching as she moved. Regina's eyes went wide as she took in Emma's flabbergasted look. She knew the Sherriff was already plotting her vengeance. They stood frozen, neither breaking eye contact. Regina was consumed in playful fear while Emma was waiting for the perfect moment to complete her plan. She had dropped her brush in the collision, and she needed a weapon.
The blonde had eyed her target, a large wide brush, which lay atop a forgotten tin of paint. Purposefully the tension increased as Regina waited for her wife to move as she contemplated which direction to dive. Would Emma reach for the brush or the roller on her opposite side? Either way, the Mayor knew she was going to end this afternoon covered in the most banal, unassuming shade of gray. What astonished her was that she didn't mind. Emma's love and unrestrained acceptance had completed her path to redemption and to becoming akin to the young woman the Evil Queen had consumed. It was these thoughts that were her downfall; they gave Emma the split-second she needed to outmaneuver her prey.
It was with a fake shimmy towards the roller that finalized Emma's upper hand, as Regina incorrectly tried to follow in that direction and lunged to the left. In her haste to change direction towards her wife, Regina slipped, and before she could regain her balance, Emma was there, a lathered paintbrush in hand. The blonde didn't consider the consequences as she gracefully covered her wife's face in the thick paint with a single flick of her wrist. Emma understood the ramifications would be catastrophic and stood appreciatory at her work for as long as possible. Regina froze instantly as she absorbed what her wife had done, unable to open her eyes due until she dramatically wiped them clean. A brief flicker of the Evil Queen shone as their eyes finally met before a broad, loving wry smile quelled the Mayor's inner fire. Emma knew Regina wouldn't be satisfied until she was swimming, maybe drowning, in the stuff. As a result, she threw her hands up in surrender, as she took slow, deliberate steps back, desperately attempting to not laugh as the paint dripped from the Regal chin.
Although both could magically remove themselves from the situation, neither contemplated it. Instead, Regina lunged for the blonde, who instinctively went on the offensive and kept dipping her brush in the paint pot and flicking it towards her new wife. Meanwhile, Regina, while protecting herself from the latest attack, grabbed the paint tray, roller included and pounced towards her Swan. In trying to avoid the latest paint stream heading her way, Emma slightly stumbled and instantly knew that escape would not be an option. She ceased her forward momentum which caused Regina to crash directly into her, with a paint tin the only thing keeping their torsos apart. The paint glopped up and this time fully covered both women's chests. They shared a look of joint horror and trepidation before Emma erupted into an unrestrained chortle. She knew that only she would get to see the Regina like this, and Emma loved it.
Regina's heart filled with unrestrained joy as she watched Emma's body convulse in laughter as she took in the Mayor who looked like a shoddy gray alien from a 1960's sci-fi movie. She slowly reached for Emma's hand and delicately removed the paintbrush from it. Initially, Regina had intended to repay the favor and coat the blonde's face. However, Emma's acute happiness made her mind change course, and she crashed her lips into her wife's to cease the giggles. Emma dropped the paint tin, whose remaining contents spilled onto the floor beneath them as it landed on its side, so she could grab Regina and meld their bodies together.
This kiss Regina initiated never seemed to end or have a direction. It was a pure blissful passion that drove the pair to forget their current condition as they ran their hands over one another, desperate to remove their clothing and feel the flesh of the woman they loved on their own. They stumbled backward into the vanity before they crashed to the ground, the dust sheet being pulled as their bodies began to writhe in pleasure. Their single-mindedness meant they didn't care that they were ingesting chemicals or rubbing paint into the now exposed wooden floor. The only thing that was significant was each other and that they were together.
They lay silently as pleasant exhaustion and contentedness flowed through them. Emma snuggled atop of Regina's chest and focused on the paint that began to dry and crackle with every breath the Mayor took. As Emma became hypnotized by the rhythmic movement of her wife's breast, Regina lulled herself by running her fingers gently over Emma's forearm which rested lovingly over her flat stomach. The brunette's eyes traveled to find what was mesmerizing her wife and couldn't resist a chuckle at the artistry that adorned her flesh. It almost looked like a gloomy sky as the white, blue, and gray collided in a swirl. It didn't surprise her that Emma was enthralled, her wife was captivated by her body without the addition of color.
Regina changed tactics and took to playing with Emma's fingers with her own; she loved the feel of them as they reflexively danced to her touch. It showed Regina how much Emma trusted her lover, for initially Emma recoiled and tensed during such intimate contact. As their love grew, the blonde relaxed and settled to point where she sought Regina's touch and hold to feel a sense of home. The typical warm tingle that ran through the pair when they intertwined their digits was absent in this moment which perplexed Regina until she absorbed that their fingers and hands were coated in the thick paint that had instigated their lovemaking. Neither were sure if they finally succumbed to sleep rather than a gentle doze, but when Emma exhaled with a little more vigor, and Regina shifted slightly, both knew the tranquil moment had run its course. Independently they were being increasingly irritated by itching the dried paint was inflicting on their bodies.
"I sense I'll be finding paint for weeks," Regina mused, raising her eyebrows to ensure the blonde knew exactly what she was insinuating.
"As long as it's not as bad as sand, I'll take it." Instantly Regina was desperate to know the story behind Emma's point of reference. However, as Emma looked away, Regina knew it would be a tale for a different day. Emma inspected the now flaking paint on her wife's chest before she ran her fingers over it, sighing heavily as it's dried status confirmed it was time to move. The blonde's eyes flickered around the room for the first time, resulting in a state of astonishment. A decorating disaster had definitely befallen the area. No wall had remained safe. The floor was going to require stripping. They were most certainly going to have to buy more paint.
Emma laughed once more that afternoon at the sight, which prompted Regina to harmonize it with her own. Emma gazed into Regina's eyes with a sheepish stare, knowing the brunette was going to detest starting over.
"May I?" Regina asked as she gestured to the room.
"Sure, as long as you admit that because we did it my way we created a memory that neither of us will ever forget."
"I concede. Neither of us will forget this perfect afternoon. Ever." The married couple kissed once more as their new love twinkled in their eyes and sealed that Emma had known best.
Emma lay her head back on her wife's chest as she watched, captivated, at decorating: magical style. It seemed effortless to Regina as she achieved more in seconds than a hundred man hours could. Both felt an enchanted breeze swirl as the walls became either pristine white or a warm blue. The scattered paint pots disappeared, along with the brushes, protective plastic sheets, and finally the ladder. The only thing left in the room was the two intertwined women and the dust sheets they had made into a temporary bed.
Regina barely blinked, let alone pause before she transported the pair to a corner before their pristine furniture began to shift around them. A new master king was promptly placed first, complete with a duvet, new linen, and excessive accent pillows that Emma had insisted on, much to Regina's amazement. She hadn't thought of Emma as one who could nest, let alone have an affinity for soft furnishings. "Roots," Emma had replied simply as though the single word was explanation enough. For Regina's ears, it was.
Faster than Emma's mind could process, the remodel was complete. It felt like their room now, their future. Emma's eyes fell on the photograph of their wedding day that now resided on the bedside table. Every day, for the rest of her life, she would wake up to that sight. That moment when she had more than a fairytale could possibly deliver.
Regina waited for Emma's approval or direction what needed altered. When Emma finally turned to face her wife, a goofy smile adorned her face indicating her utmost satisfaction. A silent squeeze only confirmed that it was everything Emma had hoped for. A place that felt like home.
"Shower?" Emma indicated suggestively, already on her feet, eager to continue their idyllic afternoon.
"How about a nice, long, bubble bath instead?" Emma smiled as she embraced her wife once more before dragging her into the master suite.
"You know me too well, Madame Mayor."
"Indeed, I do. Miss Swan."