A/N - I'm baaaccckk! Haha, I know it's only been just under two weeks, but I hate staying away for too long. I've been working on this story for the past week, as well as "Universe & U" (that one bordering on a month). Based off of a couple of reviews, I thought a sequel to "We'll Always Have Storybrooke" would be interesting to explore. Also, given the recent OQ madness, I figured us diehard SQ-ers might need something to remedy it. So... I present "Here's Looking at You, Dear." I hope people are getting the references, haha! Anyway, enjoy, dearies! I'd love to know what you think so far!
"We have to tell them, Gina. I mean, they're gonna find out sooner or later, and I think they'd rather hear it from me, ya know? Gina?" Emma weaved her brown shoelaces under and over one another as she sat on the corner of the bed. Her taught abs tightened as she leaned down and tied her knee-high boots with double knots.
The covers were neatly made over the plush pillows by the mahogany head board; Emma's side had a few creases here and there, whereas Regina's looked as if it had been done by a drill sergeant. That's how it looked every morning since Emma had moved in four weeks ago. She and Regina had been together for almost three months, ever since they'd professed their true feelings for one another. Needless to say, they were still in an adjustment period.
"I'm listening, dear," a husky voice replied through the solid door. "I'm just not sure that it's wise to reveal such a heavy bit of information right now. You're mother's still recovering from the delivery. Something this big could be… hard on her health." Regina examined herself in the mirror quizzically, as if she were looking at a specimen through a microscope. Her brunette locks had thickened and gotten even longer than before, her chestnut eyes had lost their severity and had softened considerably, and her plum-painted lips hadn't pursed together in a while. Even when she lectured Emma for something, she had never fully re-entered mayor-mode.
"People are starting to talk again. David and Mary Margaret are never gonna forgive me if I wasn't the one who told them," Emma griped as she stuffed her leg into her other boot. Her golden twists slid down her shoulders and acted as a cover, as if she were being shielded from an unseeable force.
"Emma, they're never going to forgive you for loving the Evil Queen. I'm sure it doesn't matter to them who rains on their parade." Regina's stiff shoulders rolled forward just slightly as she envisioned the Charmings' reaction to the news of their daughter and their enemy. To be fair, they hadn't been enemies in months. In all actuality, it had been quite civil between the royals; no venomous insults had been hurled and they'd even ventured out on several "family dinners." Of course, this had all been done without the knowledge that Emma and Regina were a couple. When questions arose of Captain Hook's whereabouts, Emma merely guessed and suggested that he was at his Jolly Roger. The "subtle" underlying message from Mary Margaret and David had been understood clearly by their daughter.
Lifting herself off of the mattress and floating to the closed door, Emma turned the knob without asking, knowing that her girlfriend was fretting. The blonde sheriff leaned against the wooden frame like a casual caller, her white spaghetti-strap tank top hugged her chest and accentuated her strong core. The hem of the shirt rode up just enough to expose Emma's midsection; a cruel tease for the brunette. Wanting to make a joke, the Savior sensed Regina's sober mood and adjusted her own tone. She placed one hand on the Queen's waist and pulled her in gently, as if the distance between them had been torture. When Regina wore those power suits, Emma could hardly resist her; like a thirst she couldn't quench, Regina was the water that kept her alive. "They don't hate you," Emma whispered firmly. "You know they don't hate you."
"They should… they used to," the mayor sighed, too anxious to mask her own terror at the very thought of confronting Emma's parents.
"Well, they don't anymore. Come on, aren't you guys like friends now? I haven't seen any fireballs or heart rippings. That's gotta mean something, right?"
"I suppose."
"Regina," Emma started deliberately, her own nerves acting up, "I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with. If you don't feel like you're ready, then we won't tell them. I get that." She grazed Regina's cheek with a tender kiss, secretly hoping that today would be the day.
As if she were contemplating an agreement with a troll faction, Regina used all of her concentration and focused it on the pros and cons. Pro, the rest of Emma's family would know and that meant one less secret. Con, Charming could sling his sword aimed for Regina's heart. Pro, Henry wouldn't have to be careful anymore and lie to his grandparents. Con, her mended relationship with Mary Margaret could be endangered and ultimately destroyed. Pro, Regina herself would officially have more to her family.
As she weighed the possible outcomes, the brunette stared intently into Emma's soul, unaware that she was diving so deep. And in the end, she came to the conclusion that Emma was right: David and Snow would learn about it at some point, it was better if their daughter said it face-to-face.
"Very well," Regina said crisply as she tossed a loose strand of hair back into place. "Tell Henry we're going to his grandparents'."
The three of them waited in the hallway of the apartment, eagerly counting down to the momentous occasion. From inside the loft, they heard a baby crying as if it'd just been pinched. Then they heard shouting and a metal pan clatter to the floor. It sounded like David. Hurried footsteps scurried through the small home, muffled voices called out to one another, and finally, Snow was standing across from them with a wailing, chubby-cheeked, cherry-colored infant writhing in her hold; a patch of auburn hair stuck out from the yellow blanket and there was a look of relief in Snow's eyes.
However, the relief didn't last long, as Snow's newborn spit up on her shirt… without a rag to cover it. "I just put this on," the pixie-haired Princess said bitterly.
"Uh, here, lemme hold him," Emma offered, already reaching for her brother. The gender of the baby had been a surprise for everyone. Neither Snow or David wanted to know ahead of time. Gold had told them about Emma, and it hadn't exactly been by their own choosing, not really. This round, there were no deals to be made and no caveats for the information. Cradling the child as she had pictured she would have done with Henry, Emma smiled down at the quieting child and let him hold her index finger.
"You really have do have magic, don't you?" Snow jested, trying her best to sound as aloof as possible, when deep down, it killed her that she couldn't comfort her own baby.
For her mother's sake, Emma brushed it off. "I think he just missed his big sister," she hummed. "Think we can come inside?"
"Oh, right!" Snow squeaked, as if she'd totally forgotten that they were all lingering in the lonesome corridor. She moved aside briskly and started apologizing for the state of the apartment. "I'm sorry about the mess; we haven't had a lot of time to clean up." Scanning the room, the group saw everything Snow was self-conscious of. The wastebasket was overflowing with dirty diapers, tiny socks and shoes were scattered around the living room, unfolded onesies lay sprawled on the floor, and empty milk bottles covered the dining room table. Anyone would have assumed they'd had triplets, not just one.
Snow hastily tidied up the place as best she could, while David finished running his hand under cold water. The flesh had started to turn pink, though the Prince put on a brave face and acted as though it didn't hurt like hell. "Emma," he grinned, the same relief in his eyes as his wife. After many sleepless nights, his scruff had turned into a full-on beard, covering most of his face. He had just beaten Hook and was now on his way to passing Little John for the most hair man in town. His own shirt, untucked and wrinkled, had several stains splattered in random spots, many of which were unidentifiable. Dark rings hung below his eyes, proof that he hadn't gotten a peaceful night's rest since the baby was born.
As though it'd been months since he'd seen Henry, he hugged his grandson tightly and held on for a few seconds longer than usual. David and Regina exchanged in an awkward hug-shake: half hug, half handshake. And finally, the man kissed his daughter's forehead and beamed down at his son.
"Can't believe Lance is this big already," the blonde mused adoringly. The couple had named him after the man who had given them one of the greatest gifts they could ever have imagined. "He's only three weeks old." Emma dangled her long curls over Lance and a hint of a smile was detectable. Still unsure how exactly one made the corners of their mouth turn up, Lance settled for his green eyes lighting up like stars.
Regina was helping Snow pick up the loose materials as she spoke over her shoulder. "Henry didn't grow much until he turned two months; he was just a bit smaller than Lance at his age."
"Speaking of, when Henry was this small, did he, you know… vomit on everything?" David questioned, ignoring Henry's mortification. "It's just that, he's so tiny right now, I don't understand how he can throw up so much."
The brunette nodded with a slight smirk. "Let's just say, he won't be the only one who will need new clothes." When the couch was cleared off, Regina sat down properly with one leg over the other and mentally addressed Emma; she was just waiting to run out of the room.
Bouncing up and down, the sheriff glanced from her son to her girlfriend, then to her mother and father. Right then, she envied her brother; not just for the attention he was getting, but because he was completely and utterly unaware of his surroundings. He would have no comprehension of the significance this admission held, and he didn't have to worry about all of the after effects. Lance was safe from it all, unlike Emma.
"Yeah, so, uh, guys, there's actually something I— we wanted to talk to you about. You know, if you've got a sec?" she asked, still rocking Lance, who was gurgling contentedly to himself and blowing bubbles.
Taking the cooing infant into his own arms, David and Mary Margaret shared the chair across from the others. She sat on the actual seat, he sat on the arm, hoping Lance would stay pacified long enough to put himself to sleep. Neither of them knew what Emma had on her mind, and they were both having an equally difficult time reading their daughter. She was a hard person interpret… when she wanted to be. It could have been the magic inside of her that did her bidding, or it could have come from years of practice how to hide her emotions.
Henry was helping himself to some juice from the fridge, not even the slightest bit worried about today. It'd taken a fair amount of begging of both mothers to let him tag along, as he was just dying to see how his grandparents would react. Also, though, he knew David and Snow wouldn't be as hard on his moms if he were there. He was the peacekeeper of the family, a role that he was honored to fill.
Wringing her hands like a wet towel, Emma debated whether or not she should sit with Regina. Her gut told her that she should— that she should right next to her partner so that they could support each other. But then, her head told her not to. She was a safe distance from both Regina and her parents; it seemed like neutral ground.
Just say it, the Savior commanded with a preparatory breath. Her vessel was drumming a mile a second in her chest, as if it were pleading with her to rethink her decision. When she looked at Regina, though, her heart was instantly assuaged of any and all fear. She was doing this for the brunette; she was doing this for both of them.
"You guys don't, like, hate Regina, right?" Emma blurted out like a cannon.
Evidently taken aback by the woman's inquiry, both David and Snow recoiled slightly at the brash question. They blinked quickly as if they'd just been slapped across the face and they soon matched the same shade of red. Lance was still blissfully ignorant of his parent's shock, the same way he would be until he reached young adulthood.
"No, we don't hate Regina," David said cooly, readjusting the child to better support Lance's head. "You know that… don't you?" he posed more to Regina than Emma. The mayor lifted her chin just a hair to signal that she did, but David wasn't so sure.
"Good… that's good. Yeah, good," Emma muttered to herself as she ran her fingers through her thin mane. She looked as if she were about to pace the floor, the same way she always did when she was freaking out, but she restrained herself; she stayed standing still. Her toned biceps flexed every now and then as she tensed up and then relaxed. "So, you're cool? You two… I don't know, like her?"
Snow's brow creased like the sheets on Emma's side of the bed and she shook her head in confusion. "Emma, where are you going with this? Of course we like Regina; she was willing to protect Lance and I from Zelena."
"Good… that's good. Good," the blond repeated obsessively. Regina gawked at Emma, as if she were asking, "What the hell are you doing?" Letting her impulses take over, Emma planted herself onto the empty cushion by her love and grabbed her hand; a gesture she was positive David and Snow would understand. "Regina and I… we've been…" Clearing her throat and trying again, Emma looked right at her parents. "Regina and I are together. I— I know you might not approve, and that would suck, but… I just wanted you to know."
Henry was just drinking his apple juice when Emma finally said it. He didn't swallow and he didn't spit it out; he just kept the juice in his mouth. His cheeks puffed out like a squirrel and his grip on the cup slackened. If he hadn't had the fast reflexes he did, the juice would've ended up on the floor, along with a shattered glass.
Emma felt Regina turn to stone and she saw the color drain from the woman as if it'd just flooded out of her system entirely. However, the Queen's professional manner stayed intact: she never uncrossed her legs, she never let her jaw drop, and she never made any implication that she was either ashamed or embarrassed. She just sat there quietly and waited for David and Snow to respond.
By now, Lance had bubbled himself into unconsciousness. His teeny chest rose and fell rapidly as his small heart worked to help him grow. Puny fists were no longer waving about, but were limp at Lance's side. One wrong move, and David would regret waking up the kid for the rest of the day.
As if they were both carefully pondering Emma's announcement, David and Snow held hands, much like Regina and their daughter. There was affection shared between them, love emitted through the skin-to-skin contact. It was like a security blanket; they felt secure and protected, as if their love alone created a barrier around them that only they could feel.
An agonizing five minutes of silence passed between the family, and in that five minutes, Emma was starting to believe Regina had been right; maybe her parents did hate her. But, then again, she hadn't sensed that they were lying before. Maybe she was just overthinking it. Regina had done more for David and Snow in the last few months than anyone would have guessed they'd see in their lifetime. Call it guilt for being responsible that they couldn't raise their first born, but Regina had kept the snubs to a minimum and the sarcasm to the lowest degree she could muster. She and Snow had talked things through and gotten their respective mommy issues straightened out, even more so than in the past. And, Regina had been giving David pointers about caring for an infant, which he graciously accepted.
Everything was going so well, but none of it was real… not the way Emma wanted it to be. She wanted the bonding between Regina and her parents to be done with the knowledge of their true relationship, not just with the mindset that she was "Henry's other mother." For that to happen, this had to as well.
Twisting the ring on her right hand, Regina murmured, "If it would make it easier, I can step out. If you'd like time with Emma."
Her second half nudged her inconspicuously. "No, you don't have to go," Emma said. "David, Mary Margaret, please… say something?"
Delicately placing Lance in his white-laced basinet, David left and returned as stealthily as a python, slithering through his obstacles with finesse and admirable agility. He reclaimed his thin sliver of support, but he didn't reach for Snow again. There was an air of resign to his body language, as if he'd all the time he needed. He felt his wife next to him, unmoving and ambivalent. David, himself, was anything but. Peeling away from the chair and onto the arm of the couch, the father peered down at Emma with nothing but devotion. "I want you to be with whoever makes you happy."
"Regina makes me happy," Emma said quietly.
"Then you don't need my approval. You don't need anyone's approval. I'll tell you what you do have, though." He put a kind hand on Emma's head and gave a small smile. "My blessing."
"R- really?" the Savior stammered.
Staring right at Emma, who seemed to be holding back tears, David relayed the speech he'd prepared, should she ever come to him with a problem or revelation of this magnitude. "I missed out on 28 years of your life, Emma," he said tenderly. "I didn't get to raise you or be the parent that you wanted, the one that you deserved. I didn't get to show you how much I loved you or tell you that I would always love you, no matter what. Ever since you found us, I've been trying to make up for those lost years, but I know we'll never get them back. And now, well, we have time to fix that."
As if the entire Empire State Building had been released from her back, Emma exhaled shakily, her knuckles the same shade as Snow's skin: white. Regina, however, was not so easily placated. She watched her former step-daughter bite her nails absentmindedly, the distant look in the woman's eyes. Since Lance had arrived, the Princess had slowly returned to her original, slim self. Her recently filled out cheeks were slowly retreating back into the incurved shaped they once held and barrettes held back her growing bangs. This only made it easer for Regina to detect the distress in Snow's features.
"Mary Margaret?" Regina summoned the individual out of her dazed state. As if she were just reawakened from a deep slumber, Snow glanced groggily at Emma and Regina, but mostly at Regina. A slow burning churned through her insides, a pain that wouldn't subside no matter how much Snow begged it to. She wanted to support Emma; her daughter's happiness was all that ever mattered to her. But with Regina? Emma, the child she was forced to give up because of Regina. The child she never got to see take her first steps or say her first word because of Regina. The child she never got to see off to her first day at school or hear about her first crush because of Regina. Everything that Snow had missed out on was because of Regina.
"Excuse me," Snow said, almost in an inaudible whisper. Running like the wind, she flew out of her chair and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. The sudden, boisterous noise startled Lance, and soon, the crying resumed.
Torn between his son and his wife, David rushed for the weeping newborn and swayed back and forth until the hysteria lowered to a whimper. Emma, Regina, and Henry were all gathering their things to go, a mix of rejoicing and disappointment in their veins. "I'm sorry," David said earnestly, both to Emma and Regina. "I'll talk to her," he promised.
"Thanks… Dad," the blonde responded sincerely. With that, the Swan-Mills family exited the hectic environment and entered the busy streets of Storybrooke.
Archie and Pongo passed by them on their usual stroll; the man with his umbrella and his tweed jacket, the puppy with his white fur and black spots. Henry crouched down to pet the dog and received several wet kisses before the he and his owner continued down to their office. From across the road, Emma spotted Marco and August, who was still a little boy. Every time she saw the kid, she saw the man that she had once known and the man that Tamara had killed. There were a lot of things she'd never forgive that evil woman for, and murdering one of her friends was one of them.
Rumplestiltskin was rearranging the objects in the window display, adding and removing items at his own discretion. Swords were replaced with books, clothes were moved to the back of the exhibit, and pottery was spread out with an inch between them. Belle was behind the counter, saying something to her boyfriend, but Emma couldn't read lips well enough to decipher it. She did know, however, it had to be something good, because it got a smile out of the wizard; that was as rare as a blue moon.
As she surveyed the homey town, Emma was reminded of why she loved it so much: there was no other place like it on the face of the planet. Everyone's history had been documented in movies and books, they were all authentic and honest. This was more than just a town, it was a community. People cared about one another, they knew everyone by name, no one was ever left out. Living with fairytale characters was interesting, but Emma wouldn't have traded it for a million dollars.
"Well," Regina broke through the sound barrier and grabbed the attention of the other mother and son. She did her best to hide her own dismay at Snow's reaction and put on a tight grin, mostly because they were in public. "Shall we go home or to Granny's?" secretly wanting to go home.
Sensing that they could all use a little pick-me-up, Emma laced her fingers with Regina's and ruffled Henry's hair. "I've got a better idea."
On this gorgeous Saturday afternoon, Emma decided she was taking Regina and Henry on a picnic by the water. In a cloud of magenta smoke, the blonde managed to teleport them on her own, which resulted in Regina and Henry staggering to keep their balance as they landed like Weeble Wobbles. It was as if the ground beneath them split apart and they were trying not to fall through the cracks.
Extremely proud of herself, Emma was as giddy as a child. It was almost enough to take her mind off of the mildly alarming visit with her parents. That harrowing pull on her stomach had faded the more she used her magic, and she no longer doubled-over in agony. It had become something of the past, before she learned how to control her powers.
A whistling breeze soared over the trio and sent a shiver down Regina's spine, which wasn't easy to do. The sunlight, free of clouds sparkled off of the rippling water and created brilliant reflections over the surface. The trees around them were just budding back to life from a harrowing winter and the growing leaves swished together excitedly. Thin blades of grass protruded from the small hills of sand, popping out here and there in no particularly arrangement. Seagulls mewed as they flapped their white wings and skidded over the sea, searching for their own lunch. Searching over the horizon, Emma was so sure she could see the other end of the earth.
The Savior was in her happy place: as long as she had her son and partner, anywhere was her happy place. Like a school teacher talking to her students, she gestured animatedly to the shore, just a little further than where the tide was rolling in. The waves splashed against the boulders in a hypnotic fashion and slapped the rocks like a timed punching bag; imprints of where the last surge stopped highlighted the crystalized grains in the tanned soil. As if the gorgeous scenery was nonexistent, Regina and Henry followed Emma hesitantly, somewhere between amazed or frightened.
Flicking her wrist the way she had seen Regina done hundreds of times before, Emma conjured a blue-checkered blanket that floated onto the smooth ground like a feather. "There's the first item." Making the same motion with her other wrist, two more objects appeared: a beige, wicker, picnic basket, and an antennae radio. "And there are the other two. Go ahead, sit, relax, marvel at my greatness."
Stunned, Henry and Regina lowered themselves onto the soft linen and gawked at the Savior. Emma started taking out plates and silverware, along with cups and napkins, as if she never noticed their O-shaped mouths. There were three grilled-cheese sandwiches packed in the basket, along with a two-liter Pepsi bottle filled with cider, a bowl of grapes, and triangle-shaped slices of watermelon. After she'd emptied the container and put it aside, Henry spoke through cracked inflections; the perils of puberty. "Mom, did you just… like, seriously do that?"
"Like, seriously, I just did," Emma chuckled. "What are you waiting for? Dig in!" she exclaimed as she picked up her own sandwich. Henry did as his mother did, but Regina wasn't so quick to join in on the fun. She had a few thousand words swirling in her head as her pupils shrank and her gaze went cold. Emma was in the midst of her first bite when she got the goosebumps only Regina could create.
"Why didn't you tell me you've been practicing?" the mayor asked dubiously, obviously offended.
"I wanted it to be a surprise," Emma said simply, as if that were a good enough reason. Regina's unimpressed expression wasn't exactly what she'd been hoping for. "What?" she wondered as chewed her sandwich guardedly.
"You know very well 'what,'" the brunette said in a warning tone, the same tone she used when punishing Henry for something. Pushing her plate away from her, Regina folded her arms mindfully and arched her back. Like a potion, Regina's emotions were the ingredients; the outcome, though, was one yet to be discovered. She addressed Henry without looking at him. "Henry, dear, I don't suppose you'd give Ms. Swan and I a moment alone, would you?"
The fact that Regina used "Ms. Swan" was the biggest indicator that the sheriff was in deep shit. She only referred to Emma as such whenever they were about to fight, which wasn't very often, but it was often enough. Wrapping his food in a napkin, Henry leapt up swiftly, and kicked sand behind him. "I'll be… over there," he mumbled quickly before running off.
"Ok, what's up? Why are you all pissed off?" Emma asked as she wiped her hands on her jeans and stopped eating long enough to have a real conversation. The crinkling of the brown paper she'd wrapped her bread in threatened to distract Emma; everyone knew she had her own bizarre form of ADHD.
"Why aren't you?" Regina wanted to know. "You're acting as if nothing just happened; as if your mother didn't just flee from a crime scene in tears." Now that they were far away from the nosy residents of Main Street, she could get right down to the point. No one else was around to eavesdrop and spread it through the grapevine. It was just the three of them.
"Uh, ok, first of all, that's kind of an overstatement isn't it? It's not like we murdered anyone. Second of all, why are so you worried about Mary Margaret? You know she gets like that— throws a fit. Don't let her mess with you," Emma said evenly. While she'd never admit it to Regina, the Queen already knew: Emma was just as hurt as anyone else would be. The Savior talked big and went around as though nothing ever bothered her, as if she thought she wasn't allowed to be emotional because everyone else needed her to be strong.
"And I suppose you're going to follow your own advice? You're not going to let the woman who gave you life 'mess with you?'"
Repositioning herself until she was parallel with Regina, their legs spread out at opposite ends, Emma rested on her elbows. A part of her was mourning the lack of confirmation from Snow, the burning of a bridge she'd just rebuilt, but the other part wanted to keep going. She didn't want her life with Regina and Henry to stop just because her mother had trouble with it.
"Gina, you know I love you," Emma said.
As if she'd expected more, Regina responded with, "Is that all you have to say?"
"Isn't that enough?"
"I don't know," Regina replied honestly. "Is it?"
"Hey," Emma said as soon as Regina finished, "I meant everything I said to them; I don't need their approval, Gina. We don't need it. We're adults, we can be with whoever we want."
"Even if that means losing your members of your family?"
Her own frustration now matched Regina's, and Emma didn't know what she could say or do to make any of this better. Sure, she understood Regina's desire for answers, but this was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Whenever something bad happened, Emma always separated herself from the issue. She took time to think it over, to review all of the options for fixing it. This was one of those times. The only difference was, it wasn't just Emma who was hurt: Regina had been too.
Before she responded, Emma gave a lot of thought to what her next sentiments would be. Whatever she chose to say, she wanted to be 100% genuine and thoroughly considered. This wasn't something she could just laugh off; this was her life. And right now, Emma felt as if she were stuck in a shoebox with the lid shut tight and exactly four air holes pierced through the top.
As she watched Henry toss grapes into the air and try to catch them with his mouth, Emma recalled all of the times he needed a mother and all of the times that he had Regina. The brunette had taken better care of him than Emma knew she ever could have. False memories or not, Henry was the man he was today because of Regina. This woman, the love of Emma's life had been more than enough. Several days shy of three months into their relationship, the Savior was undoubtedly aware that she would sacrifice anything to be with the Queen. If that meant falling out with Snow White, the mother she only knew for two years, then… so be it.
Gingerly locking her hand into Regina's, Emma peeled her gaze off of her son and looked into the brunette's heart. Even from the outside, she saw the good that was in the woman; the love and light. Emma felt the warmth of Regina's pulse and the steady flow of oxygen that filled her lungs. It was if that contact, that flesh-to-flesh bonded them, fused them together until they were one being.
Nodding to herself, Emma stared straight into her lover's mesmerizing marbles and said exactly what Regina was dreading. "Gina, you are my family."