A/N: So, I have been lurking around the Swan Queen fandom for quite a while now, but this is my first attempt at joining in! And I'm super nervous, because it seems that everyone in this fandom is super talented, be it at writing, videos, fanart, whatever. This is not only my first Swan Queen, but my first one-shot, and my first not M-rated lol. So, pretty please let me know what you think!
This is set sometime after the season 1 finale, not sure how long, but not too very. Some of the idea came from Lana saying that she'd like to see Regina redeemed, but "not too soon," so I started wondering how they could get together without her being completely redeemed. This is what I came up with.
HUGE thanks to Sapphonest for previewing this story for me, and helping me work out the kinks, and most importantly for getting me into OUaT and Swan Queen in the first place! I am eternally in your debt.
This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen. The curse wasn't supposed to break. Her son wasn't supposed hate her. He wasn't supposed to run away to find his birth mother. He wasn't supposed to bring her back. Emma wasn't supposed to stay, and Regina certainly wasn't supposed to want her to.
Emma should never have kissed her, but, perhaps more importantly, Regina shouldn't have liked it when she did. She shouldn't have kissed her back, shouldn't have been the one to take it further. She had shoved Emma away at first; that's where it should have ended. She should have left that ugly red leather jacket firmly in place, like a shield to protect her from the all-too-tempting mistake that lay beneath. She hadn't, though. Instead, she'd pushed the stupid thing — too eagerly, too desperate — off those creamy white shoulders, the dam breaking the moment it hit the floor, and suddenly there was no going back.
Of all the things that weren't supposed to happen, Regina wasn't supposed to be left craving more; and after all the other things she shouldn't have done, she knew she probably shouldn't have come here.
She stood on the walkway outside the sheriff's station, thinking the night must be chillier than it seemed when she felt her body tremble. Staring at the door, a shaking sigh escaped her lips, and she tried telling herself it was just a shiver. It really wasn't all that cold, though, and even Regina could only fool herself for so long.
She allowed herself this one moment of hesitation, this one moment to let herself feel the fear and the doubt. Then, casting aside her long, and ever growing, list of what was 'supposed to' and 'should not' have happened, Regina strode towards the station. She held her head high, kept her legs moving in strong, confident beats, even as the bold determination she'd left home with continued to dwindle with every passing step. She knew that anything she was about to say or do was liable to make Emma hate her; if not immediately, then certainly later on. She found it funny, in a less-than-amusing sort of way, that she even cared, but she was well beyond pretending that she didn't.
Sitting languidly behind her desk, Emma was seemingly engrossed in paperwork; though, upon closer observation, very possibly daydreaming. Her eyes remained still on the page, looking through the paper before her to fixate on something else entirely, something far away and absent. The only light in the building came from a small lamp on the desk, and with the way the warm glow encased Emma, Regina could have sworn the illumination was radiating from the girl herself. The thought seemed alarmingly sentimental, the way she was was admiring this woman's beauty feeling foreignly sweet, even to her own mind.
She took just a moment to observe the sheriff, still unaware she had company, hidden in the shadows on the outskirts of that warmth. Her mind began to wonder, before she could stop it, what it was Emma was seeing on the other side of that paper, what thoughts were churning around in that blonde head of hers. If, perhaps, any of them might include her. She wished they would, and she wished she didn't wish for that.
Not wanting to be caught staring — or gazing, if she were to be truly honest with herself — Regina finally made her presence known with a slight clearing of her throat.
Emma startled comically as her head snapped towards the sound. The way she sat up a little straighter upon identifying her intruder, exuding a confidence Regina doubted she actually felt, did not go unnoticed.
"What can I do for you Madame Mayor... Your Majesty... whatever," Emma sputtered, her feigned confidence fading with each uncertain utterance of a title. Regina smirked at the obvious nervousness. At least she knew she had some effect on the woman.
"Regina's fine, dear," she offered placatingly, taking a few tentative, though outwardly indifferent, steps into the light.
"Alright then," Emma began again, standing to make her way around the desk, leaning against the front as she tried to regain her air of apathy. "What can I do for you, Regina?"
The answer to that question was, surprisingly, more difficult than Regina would have thought. Grappling for a reply, she held Emma's eyes with her own, hoping to look more menacing than uncertain. It occurred to her that intimidating someone you are attempting to woo was a tactic that probably lacked in finesse. It was all she had at the moment though; showing vulnerability wasn't an option.
Emma cocked her head to the side, one eyebrow reaching upwards with that obnoxious "I know there's something you're not telling me" smirk on her mouth, making Regina wonder if her own traitorous eyes had revealed her desire. She wasn't good at asking for what she desired; she'd always just taken it, whether it was her's to posses or not.
That wouldn't work with Emma, though. She wanted the girl's heart. That's what she'd come here for, what her determination had said she would leave with tonight, be it by will or by force. While the introduction of magic to their little town had made it entirely possible for her to simply reach out and claim it, quite literally, she found that wasn't good enough. It wasn't until she was standing in the shadows, watching — gazing with a longing she had forgotten she could feel — that she realized. She needed Emma to give it to her.
She couldn't ask, and she couldn't take. She needed something, though; some part of Emma that she could claim. So, she settled for something in between, striding the few paces forward to steal a kiss from unsuspecting lips.
Regina gripped the pale face firmly, but not too roughly, lunging forward in the same instant. For a moment, it was enough. She felt Emma's hands cling to the front of her blazer, lips latched to her own. Her mouth was warm, her tongue soft, and her breaths came only in sharp, shuddering bursts. Then, just as quickly as it had begun, Emma unclenched the fistfuls of fabric in her hands, flattening her palms against Regina's shoulders to shove her away forcefully.
"What the hell, Regina?" she spat accusingly.
Too wrapped up in the moment, the sudden aggression caught her off guard. The rejection, despite being precisely what Regina had expected, caused a small, unbidden ache to bloom in her chest. She allowed Emma to witness neither of these emotions. Regina remained poised as ever, indifferently running a finger along the edges of her mouth to erase the smears of lipstick that undoubtedly lingered there.
Emma gave an exasperated growl. "I told you," she began again when Regina said nothing. "We agreed that it was a one time deal. It can't happen again," her voice rising in volume as she gesticulated wildly between them. "We can't happen."
The statement lacked the finality Emma was going for, but it still stung. Her determination to believe her own words seemed to hurt almost as much as if she actually did. Regina hated that she had given this woman the power to hurt her. Love is weakness, her mind sang. Well, she'd be damned if she was going to let Emma Swan see her as weak.
"Why ever not, Princess?" Regina crooned, with a smile that was all teeth and no eyes.
Emma shot her an indignant look, clearly not in the mood for these games.
"Don't," she pointed an accusatory finger in warning, "call me 'Princess'. And don't give me that crap. You know exactly why not."
Regina did know 'why not', or at least Emma's ridiculous version of it. "Good" had to play by the rules; "Evil" did not. Regina was free to want Emma, seduce Emma, sleep with Emma. Free to break all the rules, no guilt, no remorse. She wasn't sure if falling for Emma was really something an Evil Queen was supposed to do; she was said to be incapable of love, after all. She figured it qualified as breaking the rules just the same.
"Because you're the Savior, right?" Regina scoffed at the argument. "You're 'good'. And I'm the Evil Queen."
She saw Emma's expression soften at the way she drew out the word "evil" as though she detested it. Which she didn't, really. Not usually. She was still The Evil Queen; it was the only thing she knew how to be anymore. She had been a mother for a while, and a mayor, but both of those personas were gone now. The Evil Queen was all she had left, and she wouldn't apologize for it. Maybe, one day, she truly would be redeemed, and perhaps then she would feel remorse or even disgust over her former evil doings. Today, though, her only regret was the way it stood between her and the thing she wanted most.
"You're not completely evil, Regina," Emma offered comfortingly, though it sounded suspiciously like she was trying to justify something to herself. Regina could see her resolve crumbling through those big, puppy-dog eyes, and she stepped back into the other woman's personal space.
"Nor are you entirely good," Regina hummed, leaning in closer still as she whispered, "Emma."
Emma's labored breaths were the only sound to be heard in the following silence. Regina could see the pulse jumping wildly in her throat, the way Emma's eyes fluttered down to her lips and she swallowed inaudibly. She saw the tension of restraint in her muscles, and she saw the moment it left as Emma surrendered.
Regina watched the sheriff begin to glide towards her, almost as if in a trance, her own heart beginning to pound violently in her chest from anticipation. The stolen kiss had been electric, but when Emma's lips finally touched Regina's, this time of their own free will, it was like a lightning bolt had exploded in her chest, piercing all the way down to her gut. It was painful and sensational all at once. Breathtaking, and lifegiving.
Regina smiled triumphantly into the soft kiss. For once, it wasn't the victory that mattered, it was the reward. A hesitant tongue traced her lower lip, and Regina accepted it eagerly, kissing her prize with more passion than she thought herself capable of. She took care to keep the kiss gentle, even through her desire; hoping to let her lips and tongue communicate, in this way, the thing she couldn't seem to make them say. The thing that her brain told her she dare not make known, yet her heart — since, it would seem, she did actually have one — desperately needed Emma to understand. That Regina did love her.
How, why, or even when that came to be true, Regina couldn't really say. It seemed to her that perhaps it had always been there in some form. A little seed that had been planted somewhere in the back of her mind, feeding and growing off of her lust, her loneliness, and even her rage.
She thought of her apple tree, the way it stood bare in the winter, frozen and cold. Full of potential, yet offering nothing — much like herself in the first days and weeks after Emma had arrived on her doorstep. Then, one day in the spring, she'd look out the window and there would be the tiny blossoms, having sprung forth unannounced, promising so much more to follow. She knew what came next, even if it wasn't there yet, and before she knew it there would be the apples, hanging ripe and tantalizing from their branches. Sure, she could have done nothing. Just let the fruit eventually fall to the ground, wait for it to wither and rot, and then forget it completely. It was so tempting though, dangling in her face and right within reach, that she found herself plucking it from the branch, sinking in her teeth for that first delicious bite.
That was the way she'd fallen for Emma. The blonde was her own forbidden fruit, her curse for tasting it was to always hunger for more. As long as Emma was willing to feed her, Regina could accept those terms.
They were opposites in nearly every way, fighting a battle on opposing sides. Yet, Regina mused, still somehow perfectly matched. Like the convex and concave pieces of a puzzle; north and south magnets drawn toward one another. Together, they were yin and yang; neither good, nor evil. A complementary whole. The shadow cannot exist without the light.
Regina pulled back from the kiss, leaning in farther until her lips brushed against Emma's ear. "You may be the 'good guy' in this town's story, Miss Swan," Regina husked into blonde hair before moving it aside. "But you're still my bad girl."
Emma gasped, managing only a strangled, "Yes," as clothes began to shed, her red leather jacket, once again, falling to the floor.
To the rest of Storybrooke, it was black and white. Good and Evil weren't supposed to fall in love with each other. It broke all the rules. It marred the good, gave evil a heart, and suddenly they didn't fit into the tiny boxes this tiny town had designed for them. Even if Regina wasn't entirely evil, and Emma wasn't entirely good, those gray areas only existed between the two of them. For the moment though, they were the only two people in the world, and those gray areas were all that mattered.
I started writing this as a later portion of a longer story, but then I kind of liked it on it's own. If people are interested, I may go back a write a sort of prequel using my original idea, about "the first time" that they refer to. And it would probably be more of an M-rated story. There's a slight inkling of an idea for a potential sequel as well. So if you're at all interested those, do let me know! Thanks for reading :)