Notes: Inspired by a manip by seli_na_w on twitter - which she has kindly allowed me to use as the cover! NSFW.
SUPERNOVA
Emma Swan flicks through the latest script her agent has given her. Well, thrust into her arms, actually, complete with a pink post-it stuck to the stop which read "Pretty please!". So far as Emma can deduce, Mary has some kind of history with the other lead, a Regina Mills, who has already been hired. Emma's heard of her of course - it's kind of impossible not to know about her, despite her unbelievably scandal-less past. Emma kind of doubts she's even human. Oscar winning, Latina, professional spokesperson for gender and race equality, and breathtakingly gorgeous actress, Regina Mills is a bigger household name than the President.
The black leather couch beckons her and Emma flops down onto it, patting the space beside her for her dog, Ana (a Maltese Shih Tzu Mary gave her four Christmasses ago who she still pretends to feel indifferent about), and opening the screenplay.
It's a typical summer blockbuster. A lot of action - Emma raises her eyebrows at some of the stunts. Regina Mills is gonna do that? It reminds her of Mr & Mrs Smith - fun, witty, wild - except both the leads are women, and it has superheroes. Marie and Maria, socialite frenemies who end up saving the universe. Emma kind of wishes (in a privileged, simplistic way) that she were Latina - like Maria, the part Mills is going to play. Maria's darker, kind of evil at the start, and totally badass. Marie seems more vanilla. She's a bit kooky, the odd one out of the socialites, and kind of a clutz when she isn't fighting alien invaders, but there's something endearing about her and Emma isn't repulsed by the idea of the job.
Halfway through the script, she calls Mary.
"You read it?" her agent squeals, sounding far too excited.
"Calm your tits. I'm halfway through. They really want me for Marie?"
"They were begging me just to get you to read it. You're really considering it, Em? I have to admit I was surprised someone as high profile as Regina Mills was on board but if she can do it, so can you, right?"
Emma's lost, but she feigns understanding. "Right, I mean, I'm definitely thinking about it."
She hears what appears to be a gasp of happiness, then Mary arranges for them to meet in Starbucks the next morning to discuss moving forward with the part.
Emma rings off and snuggles Ana, wondering what Mary had sounded so dramatic about.
"Do we, like, die at the end?" she muses. "But it's for kids."
She reads on, getting more and more gripped by the plot, but also by the dialogue between Maria and Marie. Emma wishes she could talk like this in real life. It's so sparky, so snappy. They hate each other, they're at each other's throats, but they also work together, they understand each other, and they're far more similar than they realise. Emma's rooting for them; she has a great feeling about the movie. And they're the kind of characters that'll be super endearing to kids, and really amusing to adults.
There's something else, too, but Emma tries to push it to the back of her mind. As she reads, she can't help thinking more and more that Maria and Marie are flirting. Their banter is effortless and Emma can't help feeling they're kind of perfect for each other. She wonders why they didn't make one of them a guy.
She reads on, not even putting the script down when she pours out Ana's food or lets her outside. She kind of has to pee herself but she holds it, she needs to know what happens, she needs to-
"OH MY GOD!"
She's calling Mary before she even processes it.
"Emma?" she answers groggily.
"Were you sleeping?"
"Yes, but go on."
"Okay… WHAT THE HELL?"
There's a pause, presumably while Mary wakes up enough to process. "You seemed fine with it earlier. Keen, even."
"Yeah, but I hadn't read it all!"
"Oh, come on, Em, it's obvious from the beginning."
"The subtext is obvious. I didn't think for a second that they'd actually go through with it. But THEY FUCKING DO IT. They're in the hangar and everything's going to shit and Marie's beating the shit out of the chopper because it won't start and then Maria grabs her arms and stops her and their faces are inches apart and," Emma finds her place on the page, "THEY REALISE THEY CAN DENY IT NO LONGER, AND THAT IF THE WORLD HAS TO END, AT LEAST THEY'VE FOUND LOVE WHILE TRYING TO SAVE IT. WITH THIS IN MIND, THEY KISS."
"It's so romantic, don't you think?"
Emma's blindsided. Because, yes, actually, she thinks it's romantic as hell. It's the best love story she's read in a long time, maybe ever, but the thing is…
"Will people really go for it?" she asks in a small voice.
"If anyone can sell it, it's you and Regina Mills," Mary says gently. "I know it's a risk, but I think it's time. And I… I thought you would too?"
She sounds so hopeful. And she's right. It's just that… "You know my career isn't me, Mary. I mean, I… I want to do it. I love the story. But…"
"But, what? What are they going to do? I've thought it through, the worst that can happen is the movie is a flop, and even then, it's not like you need the money. Equality organisations from all over are practically throwing money at the project, and these days supporting this kind of thing is very in."
"Wait, do you want me to do it because you believe in it, or because it's fashionable?"
Mary replies with a sleepy chuckle. "The former. I was going to tell you tomorrow, but perhaps I shouldn't hold it over you - they're offering a very respectable wage, but Mills is actually doing the movie for free."
"What?"
Mary laughs a little more. "Yes, I spoke a little with her agent, Kathryn-"
"I know who Kathryn is. You mean she's stopped hating you for stealing her husband?"
"I didn't steal him!" Mary protested. "And she never hated me. They were estranged. She's moved on. Happily. With a gorgeous athlete named Frederick. But the point is, I met with her, informally of course, and she told me she'd never been more shocked. Mills never does anything surprising, she verges on boring, but Kathryn offered her the script, she took it away and read it, and came back and said she didn't want to donate money because she didn't like producing her own work, but that she would act the part of Maria as long as they agreed not to pay her a cent."
"That's… awesome," Emma decides. The trouble is, she really doesn't know if she has it in her to be so courageous. "Hey, Mary?"
"Yes?"
"Is Mills a lesbian?"
The line goes dead. Emma laughs. She reads the end of the script (the kiss somehow jumpstarts the chopper and the world is miraculously saved) then googles "Regina Mills lesbian". She finds some very interesting manips, but Mills' private life remains just that, and in interviews, she never contradicts their implications that she's heterosexual.
Emma rolls her eyes. Why should Mills be gay just because she supports the movie? Emma supports the movie, and she's not gay. Yeah, yeah, there was that girl in the last group home but that was years ago and she'd been barely more than a kid. But Mary, Mary's as white and cis and het as a woman can be - she's just also a committed ally. That's got to be Regina, too. Well, not the white part.
Why is this even so important? Emma groans, throwing off her clothes and climbing into bed. Regina Mills' sexuality is completely irrelevant. It's acting. Emma's kissed tons of straight guys that she wasn't into, but in the scene, in the moment, it wasn't really them. For Emma at least, when she's acting she is the character, she feels her, she lives her, and she does what she wants to do. It's obvious to Emma that Marie wants Maria, she knows she can act it, and for fuck's sake, it's Regina Mills, the epitome of professionalism!
It's only a few hours later when her phone blares out angry chick rock and she drags herself out of bed to go meet Mary. She finds a hat and huge sunglasses, slips into a white sundress that makes her look put together even though it's pretty much her fastest outfit, slides her feet into her trusty cowboy boots, and throws a few essentials into the purse that matches them. Paparazzi ready. She rolls her eyes behind the glasses. Why are they so desperate for a few blurry snaps of her grabbing a coffee?
She's an old hand at it now, though. At twenty-eight, she's had almost ten years of recognition, and at least five of A-list fame. She's not quite sure what people see in her. Maybe it's the romantically troubled back story. Maybe it's the Disney Princess blonde curls. Maybe she's actually good at what she does. Well, whatever. She kisses Ana goodbye, promising not to be long (is she a parent or what?) and goes out to her car - a bright yellow Ferrari, entirely impractical, but so much fun. Crazy cars have kind of been her weakness ever since her first movie payday.
She lives in a gated community so she rarely has to worry about fans or paps right by her house, but arriving at the coffee shop is a different story. While austentatious cars aren't exactly rare in Beverly Hills, most of them aren't yellow, and most of them (still) are driven by men. As soon as Emma gets out, passers by stop and stare at her, whipping out their camera phones, tweeting pictures. There'll be a crowd outside Starbucks before she's even ordered.
Mary's already there, accompanied by August, Emma's head of security.
"You called for backup? It's coffee, Mary," Emma protests.
"You're not careful enough, Emma! You're one woman. I know you think you're tough, but you could get trampled."
"I'm not even that famous."
"You passed famous years ago. Come on, let's go inside. I spoke to the manager, they're going to put someone on the door."
"Mary, it's coffee. Relax."
"I wish you'd just let me come to your house," Mary sighed.
"I'd go crazy! You know I don't like to be cooped up. Plus, the more I act like a normal person, the more they'll treat me like one."
"You're over simplifying."
"And you're over stressing."
Emma goes up to the counter and places their coffee order to a starstruck cashier. Emma winks at her, leans in for a selfie, and tells her she's going to have an awesome future. The girl (who's maybe seventeen) is staring at her with adoring envy, and Emma wonders if the kid will ever understand that Emma envies her, too. She's got her whole life ahead of her, she's in school, she's clean, she has good clothes, she's going to have a great life. And she's not going to have to sell her soul to do it.
It's not that Emma's sold her soul, exactly. It's more like she's donated it, shared it maybe. And she wants to. This life, this dream people think she's living, it's worthless unless she uses it to make others happy. She's never going to cut herself off from humanity. She could never be like… Well, she could never be like Regina Mills. It's not that she doesn't respect actors like that, she just can't forget her roots, and never wants to pretend to be something that she's not.
"I'm no different than you," she promises the girl as she collects the order.
The girl laughs as if she's made a ridiculous joke. Emma hides her sigh and takes the coffees over to Mary. Mary's is some icy, creamy concoction. Emma's is plain, hot, and black.
"So. S.O.S.," Mary says as she sits. That's the name of the movie.
"I'm in," Emma says decisively. "And hell, if Mills is doing it for free, so will I. But on one condition?"
"I'm listening."
"You keep it a secret. Even from set. I don't want this to turn into some stunt."
"But Emma, it's such a wonderful opportunity-"
"No. Agree to this, or I won't do it."
"Of course, Em, I just… Can I tell Kathryn?"
"No! I still can't believe you guys are kind of friends now."
"It's not that strange. But why can't I tell her?"
"Because she'll tell Mills."
"Would that be so bad? Why shouldn't you and Mills be on equal footing?"
Emma frowns. "I just… This is her thing. She had it first, she's doing the whole unpaid thing-"
"Actually, she's not making it public that she's not being paid, either."
"Well, still. I… I don't know, I just don't want people to know, okay? I feel like it'd imply that I'm better than them, that I'm trying to give them charity."
Mary sighs. "Fine. No publicity. No money. But you'll do it?"
Emma grins. "When do they want to start filming?"
"They have to hire all the other parts, but that shouldn't take long now you're involved. In a month, I'd imagine."
"So I'm free until then?"
"Well…"
"Spit it out."
"They'll probably want you and Mills to read with some of the kids."
There are a few scenes involving a rebellious child, who, fascinatingly, has no assigned gender in the script. Ze is called Sammy, but auditions are completely open. Ze has to be about ten, and that's it.
"Fair enough," Emma says, sipping her coffee. "Sort out the details, let me know when the contract meeting is, tell me where to be when."
"Wonderful. I'm so glad you're doing this, Emma. It's going to be a great success, I can feel it."
"Sure you can," Emma teases. She gets through the last of her coffee, gulping it down now it's a drinkable temperature. "I gotta go, I left Ana by herself."
Mary smirks. "I knew you cared about her."
"Not wanting to kill something and actually liking it are two different things."
"Whatever you say. I'll call you on Friday?"
Emma nods, then rises to leave, secretly grateful she has August to take her to her car, though she smiles brightly and signs several autographs on the way.
TWO WEEKS LATER
Emma's late and she knows it. Great example for the kids. She accelerates, zooming into the studio parking lot, then screeches to a halt, jumping out of her car even before it stops. She's a total mess, wearing the same jeans and tank top as yesterday. She hasn't washed her hair, she has no socks on under her boots, and her ratty red leather jacket just makes matters worse. She's exhausted, kind of hungover, and she's tempted just to leave her shades on. It's November, but in LA you can pretty much wear shades all the time.
She charges through the doors, ignoring her uncomfortable feet, and scans the hallway for directions. She doesn't really need them - it's full of wannabe rebels and their carers, all lined up to point her to the audition room. She races past them, fast enough and scruffy enough to avoid any oohing and aahing, and slams into the room, panting.
She sees Mills first. Everybody sees Mills first. The 32 year old superstar is perched elegantly on her folding chair, her short dark hair perfectly clean and styled, her lips accented with deep red lipstick, her eyes bright and alert, and her heavenly body sheathed in a form fitting grey dress. She's stunning and amazing and everything Emma isn't (even on good mornings) and Emma feels colour rising to her cheeks as she wishes she could just turn around and leave.
Mills stands, flashes a megawatt smile that's definitely fake, and holds out a hand complete with perfectly manicured fingernails. Emma wonders if there's an inch of this woman that isn't polished. She suspects not, and forcibly steers her mind away from imagining every flawless part of her. She yanks her sunglasses of her face and attempts a friendly smile that ends up being more of an awkward grimace.
"Miss Swan. I do not believe I have ever had the pleasure, though I have read about you, of course."
Was it just Emma, or did she make that sound almost threatening? Seductively threatening. Oh yes, I know all about you, Miss Swan. Emma shudders, wipes a clammy palm on her jeans, then shakes the proffered hand.
"Pleasure's all mine, Regina." Emma's tempted to call her Your Majesty. She's just so fucking regal, Emma's kind of surprised the whole room isn't throwing themselves at her feet. But maybe they did that earlier. You know, when they actually arrived on time.
"You are too kind. Shall we?"
Regina motions to their seats and Emma follows, trying desperately not to stumble. Her feet are slipping in her shoes. Why did she not put socks on? They talk through the scene, discussing the kinds of things they're looking for. Emma manages to express her ideas reasonably well, and her stomach actually flutters when Regina smiles and nods at something she says. Emma realises too late, though, that she has nothing to make notes on except the back of her script, and nothing at all to write with. She blushes again. She's supposed to be a professional, but she's actually never been so involved in auditioning people before.
Regina taps her knee. Emma's eyes snap up from the piece of floor she's been studying; she waits for a snarky comment but instead Regina just gives her a slight eye roll, then passes her a pen.
"Maria starts out hating you, but I don't have to," the older woman says. Emma laughs nervously.
"Sorry," she whispers. "I just," she looks around, making sure the writer, director, and two producers are otherwise occupied. "I wanted to make a good impression and I didn't even bring a pen."
"Good night last night, then?"
Emma laughs again. "You could say that. So, hey, any tips for this whole auditioning thing?"
Regina pauses, thinking of how best to explain. "Well, you see yourself in the part of Marie, do you not?"
Emma nods.
"Alright, so when reading the scene with each child, look out for those who feel like Sammy to her."
"But what if the kid that feels right does something wrong, or isn't who the writer intended?"
"That is why there are six of us auditioning them, and not just you. There will be many suitable candidates. All the children here today have already auditioned; this is both their screen test, and the test to see if they will suit the way we perform the characters."
Emma looks over at the camera; she'd hardly noticed it when she came in. She's not particularly bothered, though she kind of wishes she'd had time to cover up the bags under her eyes.
Everybody seems ready, so the director sends her lacky out to fetch the first kid. The director, Callie, is just as awesome as when Emma met her a week ago. She grins at the first kid, asks a couple questions to put them at ease, then everybody settles to do the scene.
Five kids later, Emma's kind of panicking because she loves them all. They're freakishly talented; even the bratty ones are amazing when they're acting. She hasn't met a single kid that wouldn't fit the part of Sammy, and yet they all bring something different to the role.
After ten kids, they take a break. They discuss a little, while it's fresh in their minds, but Emma keeps her comments to a minimum. She glances at Regina, but the brunette is deep in conversation with the writer and Emma doesn't get a chance to sneak any questions or beg for advice.
The break is over and Emma sips the coffee she's been given and scans the next candidate. He's a dark haired nine year old who introduces himself as Henry Gilmore and, unlike the earlier children, doesn't have a parent or carer with him. And he's awesome. Emma's not a great note-taker, but even before the scene, she's just scribbled THIS ONE.
He aces it. He shares secret smirks with Regina, he turns what everyone else had treated as a nothing line into a joke to tease Marie, and he just fits with them. Emma knows it's the best she's done the scene, and she thinks he even improved Regina's impeccable performance. He leaves the room and Emma turns to the others.
"I know I'm not that experienced at this, but it's him, right?"
To her relief, everybody smiles and nods.
"He's our Sammy," Regina says, smiling. Emma wonders why she's so surprised that Regina's so great with kids.
They go through the rest (thirty kids altogether) but no one comes close to Henry. Emma wants to buy them all ice cream (she and Regina do take a selfie with every single one) and then they call Henry back in.
"So, Henry," Callie says. "Where's the adult you brought with you?"
Henry looks a little shifty. Emma sees a lot of herself in his eyes.
"I, uh, my mom had to leave."
Callie seems to be gritting her teeth. She mutters something to her assistant, who hurries off. Henry slumps in the chair they offer him, but turns down food and drink. Emma scoots her chair closer to his and tries to catch his eye.
"Cheer up, kid. You got the part!"
Henry sighs, and he sounds a hell of a lot more than nine.
The assistant returns with the sign in sheet and Henry's guardian's consent forms. Callie checks them, then sets them down and looks at Henry.
"Your parents don't know you're here."
Henry picks at some imaginary lint on his worn-out jeans. Callie takes a breath.
"Well look, Henry. You're brilliant. We want you for this part. So why don't you give us their number? I'm sure if I call them and talk to them, they'll let you do it."
Henry shakes his head. Regina narrows her eyes. Emma makes connections she wishes she couldn't see.
Callie sighs. "It's either your parents or the cops, kid."
Henry shrugs. Regina gets a nod from Callie, then gestures for Emma.
"Come on," Regina says to the boy. "We can call the cops in a half hour. Right now, I'm hungry, and I can hear Emma's stomach growling from here. Let's go get something to eat. If you can't be our Sammy, the least I can do is buy you a burger and fries."
Henry feigns indifference, but his eyes light up at the mention of junk food, and he seems pretty keen to leave the authority figures. Emma gets up, trying to figure out how to share her theory with Regina without letting the kid know she knows. If he's anything like her (and he seems a lot like her) he'll split if he realises she's onto him.
There's a decent diner on the studio lot and they order three large cheeseburger meals, as well as a giant chocolate milkshake for Emma, which grants her a raised eyebrow from her co-star, but a smirk from the kid.
"How do you stay so skinny?" he asks her as they sit down to wait for their food.
Emma shrugs. "I've always been skinny. I go running sometimes, and I do this awesome boxing work out, but when I was a kid, my- people used to say I had hollow legs. How about you, Regina?" she asks, mimicking a plastic faced interviewer. "What's your secret to staying in shape?"
"I burn calories with pure hatred," Regina answers smoothly. Henry cackles.
"You really are evil," he tells her. She grins wickedly.
"But of course.
"Then… why are you buying me lunch?"
"Self interest. I want you for this part. You're by far the best actor we've seen, and by some miracle, you do not annoy me."
Henry frowns. "They'll never let me do it."
Emma bites her lip. "Kid, did you ever google me?"
There's a pause, then Henry nods.
"So you know how I grew up?"
Another nod.
"And you get that I want to help you? And that I really want to help you get this part?"
Henry bites his lip. Emma glances at Regina, who isn't quite keeping up, but Emma can see her mind working away.
"Kid, whatever happens, they're gonna get you eventually. Someone'll call the cops, even if we don't, and they'll figure out who you are and send you back. You're smart, you know I'm right. It sucks, but it might suck a hell of a lot less if you get to do this job."
Henry nods slowly.
"Group home or foster parents?"
"Group home," Henry mutters.
Emma wants to wrap him up in her arms and never let him go. "That actually might be better, kid. They're not in it for the money, they work for the state, and they'll probably listen to Callie. She's incredibly persuasive."
"She seems cool," Henry assents.
"Is it near the studio?"
"Hour on the bus."
Emma nods. "Could be worse. You skip school today?"
Stupid question. Of course he did.
"I'm failing everything. They'll never let me miss months of it."
Emma grins. "Oh, we can totally use this to our advantage. You'll have to have a tutor on set anyway, it'll all be paid for, and you'll probably do way better with one to one tuition."
Regina, who's been uncomfortably silent, finds a smile just as their food arrives.
"I do not have the knowledge of your situation that Emma has, Henry, but I give you my word I will help you in any way I can. Though I often consider it misplaced, I have a certain degree of influence which I would be more than happy to exercise to help your cause."
Henry takes a giant bite of burger. "Okay. I'll give you the number," he says with his mouth full. "But can I eat, first?"
They take Henry exploring when they're done with the food, finding an unused set with a comfortable couch and some comic books. Henry gives them the number and Emma calls Callie, telling her everything, while Regina learns about Batman.
The director of Henry's group home shows up an hour later. Emma hates her immediately, but Callie and Regina schmooze away and she grudgingly signs Henry's forms. She protests that she can't possibly drive him to set for filming, but Regina chimes in that she will be more than happy to do all the ferrying, and after taking all her details to complete the appropriate vetting procedures, the home director doesn't really have a leg to stand on. At this point she also seems to realise that she'll have one less kid to worry about for most of the time, so while she still seems pretty mad, Henry doesn't seem to be in massive trouble.
It takes hours to sort everything out, but they finally finish, Henry fist bumps Emma and shakes Regina's hand, and disappears with his carer. Emma watches him go with a heavy heart.
"I wish I could just get him out of there," she murmurs. She thinks it's to herself, but Regina's heard her.
"We are doing all we can," Regina says a little stiffly, but Emma recognises it as a cover.
"Wanna get a drink?" she offers.
Regina gives her a death glare, but her expression softens when she sees Emma's tired, emotionally drained face.
"I cannot go to a bar," Regina points out. "But… I suppose a drink would be pleasant, and I am not opposed to company. You can follow me to my place, if you like."
"I, uh…" Emma trails off. She's drained and tired and desperate for comfort, and while a bar is fine for that, going to Regina's house, just the two of them… Screw it. "I'd love to."
"Wonderful. We should check in with Callie, but then we can get going."
BREAK
Regina's father made the cider. She tells Emma this as they enter her giant white mansion. Emma slides off her boots and tries not to be mortified by her sweaty feet. Regina chuckles at them. Emma groans.
"I was in a hurry, okay?"
"Perhaps you shouldn't be drinking tonight," Regina teases, pouring two tumblers of cider. Emma grabs hers and downs it in one.
"Bullshit," she says. "By the way, this is fucking amazing."
"Thank you. I'm sure my father would appreciate the compliment."
Regina pours Emma another glass and Emma slows down a little, but not much. She needs to get rid of this emptiness. She texts Mary, who's minding Ana, to say keep her overnight, and wonders what the hell she's doing. Regina settles on her deliciously comfortable couch, crosses her legs, and gives Emma a very obvious once-over.
"You are an impressive woman, Emma Swan," she decides. Emma mock bows before sitting on the couch opposite.
"I mean it," Regina says with a small smile. "You have achieved so much, and your passion is enchanting."
"Whatever," Emma replies. "I mean, I've been lucky as hell. And as for today, I just wanted to help the kid. So did you."
Regina nods, then smiles again. "Well, I am an impressive woman, too."
Emma finishes her second drink. "That you are."
Regina rises to collect the decanter, then returns to sit on Emma's couch instead of her own, refilling both their glasses.
"I am truly sorry you have had to face such darkness," she says sincerely. Emma really isn't one for pity, but that's not what Regina's giving her. Her tone is laced with respect, admiration even. "And I am very glad that you will be working with me on this project."
They're so close, and the cider's damn good... Emma feels delicious. Regina smells like sin. Emma feels her fingers tingle; her mind is becoming comfortably fuzzy and she knows exactly how to fill the aching emptiness inside. They drink in silence for several minutes, then set down their empty glasses on the coffee table. Emma leans into the couch, indulging in exquisite fantasies about the woman beside her. Regina still sits with her back ramrod straight, her shoulders tight, her face unreadable.
Emma watches her, the way her hair caresses the back of her neck, the way she flexes her fingers, long and slow, in place of the way normal humans would fidget. Those shoulders, stressed and tired, in that beautifully shaped grey dress…
Emma sits up, running her hands over them. Regina gasps.
"What are you doing?"
"Relaxing you," Emma mutters, working the shoulders with her hands, massaging Regina's back and neck. They both know where this is going, she can feel Regina's quickening pulse, the way she leans into Emma's touch, the way she moans rather louder than necessary when Emma releases a knot of muscle.
It only takes a minute or two before Regina turns. She looks into Emma's troubled green eyes, looks at the woman who bared her soul today to help a child, and wants nothing more than to fuck away her pain in the way the blonde so clearly desires.
Emma's breathing heavily and Regina knows she knows what's coming. The brunette brushes her thumb over Emma's cheekbone, then leans in, slowly, obviously, before pressing their lips together and expressing her own frantic need.
They kiss like teenagers, in hazy, fumbling desperation, a tangle of teeth and tongues and wayward limbs as they fall back onto the couch and devour each other. Emma marvels at how easy it is to lose herself in Regina, her brain overcome with lust and pleasure as the brunette kisses away her pain.
Regina is equally entranced, though unlike Emma, the pain she battles has never been shared. For once, though, she does not protect herself. She kisses with passion, along Emma's jaw, down her neck, over her collarbone. She is thin, and it arches like wings, framing her torso, leading to the straps of her tank top that Regina tugs out of the way.
Emma pushes back, too alive with feeling to simply lie back and be ravished. She pulls at the zipper of Regina's dress and Regina raises her arms, allowing it to be removed. Emma smiles gleefully at the sight of Regina in only her underwear. Regina rolls her eyes.
"Don't pretend you haven't seen it before," she says.
"Yeah, but it's so much better in person," Emma breathes. "And in the movie, I couldn't do this…" She runs her fingers over Regina's toned stomach, then up and over her breasts; she cups them through their black lace confines, then reaches around to free them.
"You're so beautiful," Emma says, leaning in for another kiss. Regina hums needily as Emma's hands rediscover her chest, this time entirely unrestricted. Emma rolls a nipple between thumb and forefinger, pinching harder as Regina mewls. Their kisses deepen, Emma's shirt disappears, and somehow they find their way to the stairs, stumbling and grabbing and shedding clothes all the way to Regina's bedroom.
Regina pushes Emma, who is still in her (unfastened) jeans, onto the bed, grabs the ankles of the too-tight pants, and tugs. Emma giggles as her legs are finally freed; Regina slides out of her panties and saunters towards the bed, straddling her guest, relishing the feel of strong hands and short fingernails setting her nerves alight. She feels them moving to an ideal destination and arches her back, thrusting involuntarily, as a wandering finger finally finds her clit.
Not one to be (overly) selfish, she slips her own hand beneath Emma's boyshorts, smirking at the copious wetness she finds there. They rock together, finding the perfect angle to slide into each other. Emma groans as Regina enters her, two confident fingers curling to hit the perfect spot as they continue to share bumpy kisses. Emma is equally on target and Regina curses (which Emma finds fucking awesome) and pants and makes vicious commands (don't you ever fucking stop) and there's all kinds of friction and their breasts are rubbing together and Emma's so fucking close but she wants it to be together and then suddenly they're crashing, exploding around each other, and Regina thinks she might have blacked out because when she's able to register reality again she's collapsed on the bed and Emma's leaning over her, grinning from ear to ear.
"So you liked that, huh?"
Regina attempts an eye roll, but there are tears in her eyes and she can't hide her smile.
"It's been a while," she admits.
Emma kisses her - on the nose. She giggles. She didn't even know she knew how to giggle any more. Emma giggles too, then kisses her, properly this time, and she's so sensitive and aching in all the best ways but she can already feel the pressure building again and actually she's kind of proud because yeah, maybe she passed out, but she has marathon-level stamina.
Emma's grinning even more. Regina's glad. There's something in those eyes… This woman deserves all kinds of flattery. Regina flexes her sticky fingers, knowing exactly how she wants to flatter her next.
BREAK
Emma hums in her head. Maybe it'd be kind of nice to be a superhero. Or villain. With my freeze ray I will stop the world. She's never been a good sleeper, she wakes up every couple hours. It's 5am, she's in the most comfortable bed she's ever lain in (or gotten laid in), and Regina's sleeping like an angel, and Emma's… leaving.
She creeps around in the darkness, wriggling into her jeans, going through the motions that she's all too used to. She finds her clothes, but something holds her in the doorway. She wishes for about the millionth time that she could just be a normal person, that she could stay, that she could make Regina pancakes, borrow her shirt, flirt with her all morning, kiss her over coffee, take her back to bed and fall in love all over again with those beautiful chocolate eyes…
Emma leaves the mansion. Her car waits for her, loud and bright and real, and she gets into it, starts the engine, and roars out into the dawn.
BREAK
Regina rolls over in her empty bed and wishes she could be surprised. She's not worried. She likes Emma, she knows they can both be professional about it… But the thing is. She likes Emma. Really likes her. And not just because of the orgasms. She stretches in bed, purring like a cat. Okay, so maybe the orgasms play a pretty important part.
She gets up, rolling her shoulders (they feel great) and lazily making the bed. As she shakes out the comforter, something red falls to the floor. She investigates. Emma's boyshorts. She quirks an eyebrow. Intentional? Probably not. Further examination reveals a large Wonder Woman "W" on the front. Classy. Regina chuckles, throwing them in the laundry. She turns on the radio, something perky, and heads for the shower.
Perhaps she should be worried. Her agent would tell her to be worried. But she has a feeling Emma has even less interest in being a tabloid scandal (or love affair) than she does, so she doesn't think it's going to be an issue. It was something they needed, something they both wanted, and when they start working together properly in the New Year, they'll just have to be adults about it.
After luxuriating under the warm water for far too long, she makes some coffee and turns her attention to Henry. She calls her lawyer, thinking about visitation, and is pleased to know that once she's been vetted, she can see him when she wants, as long as she clears it with his group home. She has a feeling they won't mind… And then she starts wondering about Christmas, about the vacation, about what he'll be doing. And before she can stop herself, she's back on the phone to her lawyer.
He tosses around phrases like "highly irregular" and "are you sure you want to do this, Ms. Mills?" but she can be pretty damn insistent when she wants to be and after several more calls (to her agent, Callie, and a friend with a connection in the care department) she's printing out the forms from her email and registering to become a temporary foster parent. Just in case, she tells herself. Just in case. And just while they make the movie.
TWO MONTHS LATER
Clearly, being late is going to be Emma's theme for the entire movie. At least she has socks this time. She does not, however, have her lucky underwear. She's lost it, and while Ana got her a new pair for Christmas (yeah, okay, she got it herself, wrapped it herself, and got Ana to put a paw print on the card) it's not the same.
She's far too frazzled to even care about Regina, who is probably going to kill her, so that's a plus, at least. And she knows the lines. And she's found her parking space. She stops in it, rolls her eyes at Regina's stereotypical black SUV, and legs it to the read through.
Yup, she's the last one there, but at least it makes Henry laugh. He's sitting by Regina and they're thick as thieves. Emma wonders when that happened. Regina hardly looks at her, but she says hello and Emma takes her seat and Callie greets everyone and suggests they get to it.
Emma loves the cast. They all fit the parts, they can have a laugh, they pass her coffee, and they're nice to Henry. Especially Regina. Dammit. Because Emma just can't stop looking at her, at everything she does, every tiny movement down to the way she breathes or unscrews her water bottle. Emma can remember it vividly, the feel of those strong, skilful fingers buried inside her-
"Emma? Are you okay?"
"Oh, shit, yeah, just lost the thread for a second, sorry," Emma apologises, finding her place in the script and fumbling her way through her line. She might be wrong but she's pretty sure Regina stifles a chuckle.
Oh, you know exactly what you're doing to me, don't you? Emma sighs. They can't. They're working together. On a really important movie. And they hardly know each other. Okay, yeah, they know each other extremely well in some ways. But what if it doesn't work? They can't. They could screw up the whole movie if they did, and that would be wrong in so many ways. So, friends. Just friends.
Callie calls a break and Henry bounces over to her. He looks so good, like, happy down to his bones, and Emma knows it's more than the movie. He's bursting to tell her, but he waits for Regina to appear behind him.
"So, Emma, guess what?" he says, grinning.
Regina hovers behind him. He looks up at her and she has to share his contagious smile.
"I'm living with Regina!" Henry blurts out.
"What? You are?" Emma stares at Regina, and Henry hops up and down on the balls of his feet.
"Yeah, she made a bunch of calls because she didn't know what'd happen to me over the holidays and now she's my temporary foster carer, for the whole time we're filming. Isn't that awesome?"
Emma struggles with a whole bunch of feelings that threaten to make her sob like a baby, but she pulls out her widest, most genuine smile.
"Yeah, kid. That is really freaking awesome."
She finally summons up the courage to meet Regina's eyes and what she sees there is… Everything. Bravery. Love. And pure fucking terror. Because this is a woman who has been alone her whole life, and now suddenly she's a mom to a noisy, troubled nine year old, and she wants to make him happy with all her heart but other than that she doesn't have a clue. Oh yeah, and she's facing the most beautiful woman she's ever seen, a woman whose tongue her most private area is currently remembering very vividly.
Henry dashes off to meet some friends and Emma and Regina are left staring at each other.
"So, uh, it's nice to see you," Emma says awkwardly. "Look, about, uh, well, yeah, I'm sorry I just-"
"Don't worry about it, Emma. I would have done the same thing."
"You would have?"
Regina smiles. "Absolutely. So no hard feeling?"
Emma feels a weight lift off her chest. "No hard feelings."
Regina winks. Emma's knees go weak.
"Actually, Emma, I was wondering-"
"Regina, do you want to have-"
They speak simultaneously. Regina clamps her mouth shut. Was Emma just asking her out?
"You go," Emma says.
Regina takes a breath. "I think you were going to ask something more fun."
Emma blushes. "How would you have answered?"
"I would have said no," Regina says with a smirk.
Impossible woman, Emma thinks.
"What were you going to say?" she asks Regina.
"I want to ask you some things about looking after Henry," Regina says, seeming rather uncomfortable at having to admit difficulty. "We are doing very well so far, but we've been on holiday, and there are a lot of things, I mean, I've been reading up about it, but I thought it might be better to talk with you, since you understand him so well."
Emma reaches out and touches Regina's upper arm. "Of course. Whatever you need."
Regina smiles widely. "Thank you. We should head back."
They finish the read through and go for lunch. Emma eats with Callie, not wanting to force herself on Regina, then goes over to her wardrobe fitting. To her surprise, there's someone else changing. Someone whose underwear clad body features in her imagination embarrassingly often. And someone whose underwear is-
"Those panties are not yours!" Emma exclaims.
Regina laughs loudly and turns around, showing off her coordinated red bra.
"Would you like me to give them back?" Regina suggests, walking over and flicking the lock on the door.
Shit. Emma closes her eyes. She is a bad, bad person. And fuck, kissing Regina just feels like home. She's so dominant today; Emma gasps as the older woman pins her agains the wall, kissing like a fucking sex demon. She groans; Regina unfastens her pants and slips a hand below her waistband.
"Shit, you're not wasting time, are you?" Emma moans.
"I take pride in my efficiency," Regina purrs between kisses. She coils Emma tighter and tighter with expert thrusts and strokes and compliments on her wetness until she's balancing on a knife edge and then-
She stops. She stops, withdraws her hand, licks her fingers, and winks. Emma whines. Regina helps her into a chair, pats her knee, and leaves the room.
"What the fuck?" Emma moans. She's dying. She's about to finish things herself when Ruby, costume designer exraordinaire, trips into the room.
"Hey, Emma. Geez, what happened to you?"
Emma forces herself to her feet. "Hey, Rubes. Nothing, just tired. So, what have you got for me?"
She strips to her underwear, hopes her underwear isn't obviously ruined, and pays absolutely no attention to the violent throbbing between her thighs. Devil woman.
An hour later she's lying in her trailer, hands locked together above her head, because she just has a feeling. Sure enough, there's a knock at the door. She peers through the window. Yup. It's her. Satan in human form. She opens the door.
"I hate you."
"You didn't handle it yourself?" Regina seems gleefully surprised.
"Nope," Emma says. "Doesn't even bother me."
Regina smirks. "Well, I mean, I don't have to stay-"
Emma yanks her inside, slams the door shut, and kisses her as invitingly as she can possibly manage. Regina murmurs in appreciation, but pulls back.
"You left," she points out. "And now we're colleagues."
Emma nods. "I did the first because of the second."
"So earlier, when you were looking at me like you wanted me to slowly eat you alive, that was..?"
"Foolish honesty?"
Regina laughs. "I like you, Emma Swan. I like you a lot."
"But?"
"We can't mess up the movie. And we have Henry to think about, too."
"Got it. I think it's amazing, what you're doing for him, by the way."
Regina smiles. "Thanks… I just, I didn't have a choice, not once I started thinking about it."
Emma nods. She understands. Regina's not hardened like she is.
"So, this is like, a one more time thing?" Emma asks.
Regina pauses. "Perhaps. Or, alternatively, a very secret, careful, private, screw anyone else and I'll kill you, numerous times thing?"
Emma's mouth is on hers before she can say "friends with a lot of fucking benefits".
BREAK
Notes: In case there's any uncertainty, Henry isn't biologically related to Emma or Regina. The song Emma hums is "Freeze Ray" from Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog.