A/N: This story is not, I repeat NOT, related to my Swan Queen series. Part 4 of that is still in the works. This is just a little babyfic I woke up thinking about this morning. It pretty much revolves around the shirt Emma barrowed from Regina in Snow Falls, and the fact that we've seen recent pics of Regina in the same shirt. My brain made it into this. Enjoy!


She had never really much cared one way or another about this shirt. There was nothing wrong with it – of course not, she wouldn't have bought it if there was – but it was just a shirt, and she had plenty of them. To be honest, she doubted she'd ever given the silky, bluish-gray blouse a second thought. She wondered now, sliding it carefully off the hanger, if she ever would have even noticed its absence. The moment she'd seen it on Emma's body, though, it had become suddenly imperative that she reclaim it. Emma would take no part of her.

The garment had been returned – undamaged, but also unwashed. Regina had expected such might be the case, her suspicions confirmed when Emma departed, her scent lingering behind, embedded in the threads of the fabric. She rolled her eyes at the lack of courtesy – honestly, who has the audactiy to barrow clothing without permission, and then doesn't even have the decency to return it washed? – but she supposed perhaps that was the point. After all, their relationship was a far cry from friendly.

She had waited until she was certain Emma was gone and wouldn't likely come barging back into her office. Then, slowly, almost shamefully, she lifted the garment to her face, buried her nose and inhaled. She closed her eyes, sighing as the scent consumed her. It smelled like sweat, in a sweet, girly sort of way; mixed with the aroma of her soap or shampoo, something a little bit spicy; and just the faintest hint of leather, transferred from her jacket. Regina felt her stomach somersault. Yes, that was most certainly the essence of Emma.

Slowly falling into the oblivion of longing and unspoken desire, she caught herself just in time. She shook her head violently; mortified, scolding her treacherous emotions. Regina shoved the dirty shirt into her bag, and Emma Swan out of her mind – not quite succeeding in either endevour.

She wasn't nearly as adamant in her denial of these feelings now as she was then, though perhaps even more diligent at keeping them hidden. It had been bad enough, just being Regina and wanting Emma, being the mayor and needing the sheriff. Now, though, with the curse broken and in the cold light of day, she was The Evil Queen in love with The Savior. No one, not even Emma – especially not Emma – could ever know.

As she had that night, Regina nestled her face in the smooth silk of her own shirt, imagining she could still detect Emma's scent. She couldn't, of course, she knew it was long gone. The blouse had joined the first load of laundry to be done upon its return, albeit with a bit more reluctance than the rest of the soiled garments. Regina certainly wasn't about to resort to holding onto dirty clothes as tokens, and with a last, wistful whiff, she tossed it in the machine, slamming the lid as she stormed away.

She slipped her arms through the sleeves, fastening the buttons just far enough to conceal her breasts. Studying her ensemble in the full length mirror, she knew she looked good. The shirt looked good on her. She had liked it better on Emma.

Enjoy my shirt, Miss Swan, she had offered deviously. Because that's all you're getting. It had seemed such a clever thing to say at the time, and Emma's, 'Oh, really?' expression had sent tingles down Regina's spine. The words were empty, though. Emma really could have taken much more, but who was to say she even wanted it? Regina honestly didn't know, had no way of knowing, and she doubted she ever would.

So, as usual, she simply pushed forward with her day. Love was weakness indeed, but she wouldn't let it get in her way. With a fresh coat of lipstick she was out the door, looking as regal and cold as she ever had, regardless of the constant burning in her chest. It's not like she had a kingdom or castle or even a town to attend to anymore. She had errands to run, and that much she could certainly do.

Or, so she thought, until her eyes fell upon familiar golden locks. Her stomach flipped and she knew it was Emma, before her brain had even had time to register what she saw. It was laughable, really; The Evil Queen and The Savior running into each other in the supermarket checkout. She pretended not to notice Emma, and Emma pretended not to notice her, though both women knew they'd been spotted.

Emma completed her purchase, finally forced to turn around in order to leave. Their eyes met, and Regina's heart throbbed.

"Nice shirt," Emma said simply, with a light smirk and clear recognition.

"Thank you, Miss Swan," Regina replied courteously, confessing the only thing she could to the woman she loved as she added, "It's my favorite one."


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