Notes: Tried to get this done sooner, but couldn't seem to write fast enough. This was supposed to be a oneshot, but I decided it'd be quicker to get this posted while the SQW mods were still checking for late submissions if I posted them as separate chapters. So this former single chapter fic turned into a five chapter fic. The rating might go up in the last chapter or two as well, but for now I'll just keep it at T.

Thanks to hummingbirdswords and Shan for letting me talk through my many insecurities about this first chapter.

Enjoy!


Mornings with the Mills were typically loud. Emma hadn't needed her multiple phone alarms after five weeks of living in the Mifflin home. Living under the same roof as her teenaged son and his other mother was fine. It was what she'd wanted when she'd asked to move in and make joint custody a lot easier. But moving in with them also meant moving in with a difficult witch and her diva daughter. Emma either woke up to Henry's thunderous footsteps, Zelena's cackles or Robyn's tantrums. It happened around the same time every morning, give or take twenty minutes. That morning, however, the house was unusually quiet. A confused look at her phone as she slowly started to wake up revealed that it was already 9am. She'd slept in an additional two hours.

Emma frowned and sat up in bed while she ran a hand through her messy, tangled hair. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and picked at the crust in the corners before she took a deep breath and stretched. She went through her usual routine of brushing her teeth and deciding what, if anything, to do with her hair before she made her way downstairs and looked around like she expected some hell beast to pop out at her and prove she was in some weird alternate reality. Because any reality where Regina hadn't dragged the other three Mills out of bed at an early enough hour, if they hadn't done it themselves, was unbelievable.

Emma followed the smell of food and the sound of some utensil scrapping a pan into the kitchen and nearly fell to her knees when she saw the brunette.

Regina stood at the stove cooking French toast in nothing but a slightly oversized blue and white plaid shirt. The fabric looked soft like flannel and the hem stopped surprisingly low on the woman's body. It covered whatever underwear Regina might have been wearing, but exposed most of her legs. It looked like Regina didn't have to worry about showing her ass to company unless she needed to bend over and set something in the oven. Normally when Emma wore her own flannel shirts by themselves, she would flash someone if she moved even the slightest bit whether she meant to or not.

Emma didn't stop her eyes from wandering as they gazed at Regina's body from head to bare feet. Her mouth went dry when she stared at Regina's thighs from behind. She would have appreciated the sight from any angle, but her view from the entryway allowed her a teasing peek at Regina's ass. The flannel hugged the swell of round cheeks and hung loosely over the backs of Regina's thighs, which moved a moment later when the brunette shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

The movement was subtle and sensual as Regina's left knee glided forward toward the oven. If Emma had been in place of the kitchen appliance, she imagined the brunette's thigh would have effortlessly fit between her own legs. Her lips parted and her mouth went dry as soon as the thought, quickly followed by more thoughts of those same thighs wrapped around her waist and on either side of her head, came to mind.

When she pictured Regina shuddering around her head and fingers as Emma devoured the brunette like one of her beloved bearclaws, Emma licked her lips and sucked in a deep breath. She tried to replace the sudden fantasies with words, questions, a way to start a conversation so she could make Regina aware of her presence instead of just creepily staring at her from the entryway. It took a little longer than it should have, but Emma managed to clear her throat and take a step forward.

Regina looked over her shoulder after she finished flipping a slice of French toast and smiled at Emma. In response, Emma's body immediately flushed with warmth and left the younger woman hoping there wasn't a noticeable change of color in her cheeks or on her chest. "I thought you might like something with cinnamon this morning," Regina said in greeting. "If you ask me, I think your obsession with the spice is insane."

Emma smiled back at Regina and shrugged. "I've always been just a little insane."

"I've trained you so well," Regina replied while her smile grew.

Emma rolled her eyes, but her own smile never left her face. She walked further into the kitchen until she stood beside Regina at the stove and watched over the other woman's shoulder as Regina flipped another slice of toast.

"Is there a reason you're hovering," Regina asked a moment later when she slid the two browned slices onto a plate.

"Just thought I'd watch the master at work," Emma answered before she dropped her head so that her chin rested on Regina's shoulder.

It didn't take long before the brunette gently shrugged her off as she went to dip another slice of bread into the bowl of egg and cinnamon mix on the nearby counter space. Emma continued to watch Regina work and Regina didn't comment on Emma's blatant staring. At least the blonde was able to control herself long enough at that point to keep her eyes above the other woman's waist while she observed the rest of Regina's cooking.

"Want any bacon or sausage with breakfast," Regina asked while she piled two more slices of toast onto the others on the plate. A second later, both women answered, "Bacon" in unison. Regina smirked at Emma's shocked look and unnecessarily added, "I thought so."

"How?"

"You've never once picked sausage over bacon when given the choice. The only time you even eat sausage is when we're out of bacon."

"That's not true," Emma immediately argued. "Well, the part about bacon being my first choice is. But I'll eat whatever you put in front of me."

Images of Regina's thighs clamped around Emma's face replayed in her mind just then and the warmth Emma felt earlier spread much lower than her face. The reaction didn't go unnoticed either.

Regina furrowed her brow before her eyes quizzically inspected Emma from head to toe. When brown eyes met green again, Regina tipped her head to the side and absentmindedly pulled the empty pan off the burner. Her full attention was on Emma while the plate of French toast on the countertop started to cool. "What are you thinking?"

Emma's eyes bulged and her heart skipped a beat before the pace increased, but another lick of her lips allowed her the time to calmly respond. "That I'm starving and I don't think I can wait for the bacon to be finished before I inhale that French toast," she lied—at least partially, because she wasn't at all patient enough to wait for the bacon—and flashed Regina what she hoped was a charming smile before she turned away from the older woman to grab herself a plate.

When she came back to the stove less than a minute later, Regina glided behind Emma as she moved away from the sink where she'd set the dirty dishes. Emma served herself three of the five slices of French toast and then handed Regina the plate the brunette had used to set them all aside. Their fingers brushed during the exchange and Emma smiled to herself as her body tingled from her breasts to her arms and down her spine. It was hardly the first time they'd touched, especially when doing something as basic as passing something to each other, but they were alone and Regina was dressed far beyond casual.

The brunette looked confident and comfortable in the flannel despite Emma never having seen her in it until that morning. She stared at Regina again, took in her bare legs and feet where the shirt stopped, looked a little closer at the way the sleeves were haphazardly rolled up between wrist and elbow.

And then she noted the previously overlooked tear under the right sleeve.

"Wait a minute." Emma set her plate down on the dining room table with a frown while she continued to focus on the hole along the underarm. "Are you wearing my shirt?"

"It was in the laundry."

"Yeah, my laundry!"

"Which I washed."

"You stole my shirt," Emma said with an arched brow, a little incredulous.

"Hardly. You stole my shirt."

"What? I did not. When? What shirt?"

"The blue silk shirt. That was stealing. You took it without asking and didn't return it."

Emma frowned and thought about it for a moment as she tried to place when and how she supposedly stole a blue shirt.

"I hope you enjoyed it," Regina all but purred a moment later.

Only then did Emma's mind supply her with the answer she'd struggled to find as she remembered, "Enjoy my shirt because that's all you're getting" while brown eyes sized her up from head to toe and back again. A blush threatened to creep up her sternum and color her cheeks, but a claim in her defense rose to the surface quicker. "I gave it back."

"You didn't," Regina firmly disagreed, but didn't sound at all upset about it.

"You've warn it a few times after I borrowed it, so I know I gave it back," Emma insisted.

Regina shook her head with a small, almost undetectable smile and replied, "I have a shirt just like it, but they aren't the same. That's the one you saw me wear."

"You're telling me you have a rack of blue silk shirts that all look the same?"

"Not a rack and not the same, just similar."

Emma rolled her eyes. "What's the difference?"

"The difference is I have a couple blue silk blouses and you still have one of them."

"Well, if you want to get technical Henry stole your blouse and gave it to me. I still don't know why I believed him when he said you wouldn't notice."

Regina laughed—laughed—for almost a full minute. She calmed down just enough, though there was still undeniable mirth in her eyes, to reply, "You wore tank tops and jeans, Emma, and that shirt cost more than your car was worth. And you thought I wouldn't notice when I found you hanging out with my son suddenly dressing to impress?"

"Hey, I could have owned nice clothes. Just because I didn't want to dress like I had a stick up my ass—"

"You seemed to like that look on me," Regina quickly cut her off. "Or was I just imagining all the times you stared at my chest in Neverland?"

Emma's mouth flapped open and shut several times without a single word or even squeaked sound ever coming out. A few seconds later, she said the first rebuttal she could form in her mind or on her tongue. "You popped a button almost every day like you were using them to mark time! And that blouse might have been silk, but the camisole underneath was lace."

Regina victoriously grinned like the cat that ate the canary while she reveled in Emma's dumb, blurted out confession. Emma appropriately groaned. "If I had unbuttoned a button for every day we were there," Regina started to explain, still a little smug, a moment later, "you would have seen more than just lace."

Emma instantly gaped at the other woman, frozen in shock where she continued to stand next to the table, when the doorbell rang. The only body part she moved was her head as she watched the brunette saunter off toward the foyer and remained rooted in place until Regina returned to the dining room with her mother and baby brother following close behind.

Neal bounced as Snow lifted him a little higher on her hip and the movement helped snap Emma out of her thoughts of Regina in lingerie. She smiled at the three-year-old as he beamed at her and waved. He tucked his head into the crook of Snow's neck a second later as though he was shy, which he wasn't, and rubbed his eye with the hand he'd just used to wave.

"Did he just wake up," Regina asked.

Emma looked at her mother as she listened for the answer and her smile faded as Snow directed one at Regina. In the blink of an eye, her mother's eyes slid down the brunette's body with interest and curiosity. Emma instinctively tensed, but her discomfort only grew in the minutes to come.

"I would have let him sleep longer, but I can never seem to pick him up without waking him," Snow replied before her eyes fell to Regina's legs. Again.

Emma shifted almost protectively in front of Regina to keep her mother's eyes off the brunette and was rewarded instantly when Snow's eyes snapped up to meet Emma's just as Regina lightly pressed a hand against Emma's back. It was a small comfort and a silent request to relax that Emma complied with almost immediately.

Snow cleared her throat and locked eyes with Regina before she said, "Nice shirt." Her attention pointedly returned to the blonde once the words were out. A corner of her mouth ticked up to form a lopsided smile and she asked, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Emma's cheeks flared like she'd been caught heavily making out on her parents' couch and it didn't help that Regina slid her hand further up Emma's back. She watched her mother's eyes track the movement and then felt uncomfortable for another reason entirely when Snow focused on a spot just to the left of Regina's arm. Her mother was blatantly staring at Regina's chest and the hint of a smile the woman had directed at Emma earlier was gone.

Snow gazed at Regina as though she didn't have a True Love husband that quite literally shared her heart. The way Snow's lips parted and her breaths sounded quicker and shallow made Emma cringe. It was one thing to want to avoid thinking about her parents having sex with each other, but the idea that her mother appeared open to having sex with her best friend?

Emma shuddered and forced herself to look at anything other than the budding desire in Snow's eyes. Naturally, her eyes landed on the object of the pixie-haired woman's piqued interest. For the first time, Emma realized a few of the top buttons on the flannel shirt were undone just like in Neverland. Unlike Neverland, however, there was no camisole to cover the sliver of skin between unrestrained breasts the sides of the shirt tantalizingly framed in a suggestive V-cut.

The flannel thankfully concealed Regina's nipples, but did little to hide the shape of the woman's braless breasts. Emma swiped her tongue over her bottom lip before she trapped the lip between her teeth and completely lost herself in the appealing sight. She wasn't much of a breast woman. Legs drew her in first and were occasionally followed by a woman's ass. Breasts were almost an afterthought as far as what physical assets caused her to gravitate toward another woman, although she never neglected them during sex, but damn if every part of Regina didn't look delicious in her shirt.

"'Gina!" Neal's whine abruptly broke the spell—because it had to be a spell—Regina had over Emma. Her little brother held out a hand to the brunette that he opened and closed again and again in a 'gimme' motion.

Regina chuckled and removed her hand from Emma's back as she stepped toward the toddler in Snow's arms. "I seem to have a way with this family," Regina playfully, and truthfully, said.

Snow blinked out of her own haze and passed Neal to Regina without hesitation. Once her arms were free, she averted her eyes with evident embarrassment in pink cheeks and how she fidgeted with her hands. "Right, well, David and I will pick Neal up after dinner. Thank you for taking him for the day."

Emma scrutinized Snow's body language when her mother chanced eye contact with Regina again and then smiled at the other woman while she continued to blush. Without Regina's hand on her back, Emma didn't have the patience or control to count to ten before speaking. She didn't even make it to three before she shrilly asked, "Speaking of Dad, isn't he waiting for you somewhere?"

Snow winced at what Emma assumed was the strained and too high-pitched tone of her voice. A glance at Regina and Neal revealed her baby brother had clapped his hands over his ears just a little too late to protect himself from the sharp nails on a chalkboard noise she'd inflicted on everyone. It hurt Emma's ears, too, so she didn't blame him. Thankfully, the momentary pain proved to be worth it when she accomplished her goal.

Snow's mouth wordlessly flapped open and closed a few times before she finally managed a weak reply. "Mhmm. Yes, I- I should… I'll see you both later." She stepped up to Regina and looked shyly into brown eyes before she dipped her head and kissed Neal on the cheek. "Be good for Regina."

"Okay, Mommy," he replied a moment before he snuggled against his caretaker for the day.

For the second time in her adult life, Emma was irrationally jealous of her baby brother. But just like she moved past the jealousy when her parents had excitedly waited for his arrival to dote on him in all the ways they hadn't—couldn't—with Emma, she was sure she'd get over Neal being able to lay all over Regina in ways the blonde had only ever dreamed about…way too much. Best friends never imagined their best friends naked. Right?

The sound of the front door closing and a movement out of the corner of her eye pulled Emma away from her pining and brought her back into the moment. Regina stepped in front of her with Neal still curled against her side and one of his little hands clutched around her shirt, his thumb tucked into the exposed valley between Regina's breasts.

"You're staring." Regina smirked and took another step toward her. Before Emma even realized what was happening, still off-balance from being called out on her shamefully obvious behavior, Regina eased Neal into her arms.

Emma stuttered out a few failed responses before she pushed out a loud and unnecessary announcement. "Regina! My mother was checking you out!"

The woman hummed as if it wasn't a new experience for her. She even sounded slightly amused when she said, "And I wasn't even wearing leather."

"Wha- She- You- Leather?" Emma uncharacteristically squeaked, unable to speak or think clearly in that moment.

"Yes, you've seen me in leather," Regina purposely, teasingly, reminded her. "In the Enchanted Forest during your time travel and again in Storybrooke after I split myself. If the Queen hadn't been so hellbent on destroying your family, I'm sure Snow would have appreciated there being two of me."

"That- That's what bothers me! She's my mom!"

"So, she's not allowed to have needs," Regina asked through a bout of laughter. "To be attracted to people? I'm a mother. Do you think I shouldn't have or express my attraction for others? Or is she just not allowed to be attracted to me?"

Emma's brain short-circuited and she lost her filter before she blurted out, "She's married. And she's not just a mom. She's my mom. She's not- She can't- Why are you okay with this? My mom basically eye fucked the mother of my son!"

"Well, at least you inherited more than her and Charming's idiocy," Regina casually responded. "Your mother has good taste."

Emma's eye twitched and she probably looked deranged, which probably explained Regina's second burst of laughter before she walked back to her once abandoned breakfast.

"Be a dear and share a piece of French toast with your brother," Regina effortlessly changed the subject.

"Yeah," Neal exclaimed his agreement and jumped in Emma's arms.

She took her eyes off Regina for a fleeting second to grapple with her suddenly energetic brother, but looked at the older woman again as soon as she had Neal settled against her side. Regina squirmed in her chair while she seemingly made herself comfortable at the table and smiled at Emma—only Emma—like a warm and peaceful sunrise. And just like icicles bathed in spring's morning light, Emma melted.