Well, here it is. This is a different take on our beloved couple. Warnings include dub-con and mentions of past emotional/physical/sexual abuse. Story will contain angst, but also humor. Above all, though, it's a romance story, focused on our two ladies. Set five years-ish after the first season. Please let me know if you like it!


Mr. Gold's Pawn Shop makes a trilling sound as Henry Mills quietly steps inside. Curiously, he looks at his immediate surroundings and attempts to find where Rumplestiltskin will undoubtedly be waiting.

"Henry? What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?"

Henry turns and sees him standing at the cashier patiently, as if he'd been there the whole time. Forgetting his mom's- well, moms'- warnings about the "imp", Henry walks forward eagerly, wondering if Rumplestiltskin will be able to help him.

"Hi, Mr. Gold. I- I needed a love potion. Do you have one?"

Mr. Gold just chuckles, with no visible facial reaction besides a small smirk.

"And why would you need one, Henry? You know love potions don't create love. They just create the illusion of love, by working as a sort of inhibitor."

Henry already knows this; he's spent days researching it, because, after all, love potions always go wrong in the movies. But he's certain his plan will work.

"I know. I just... I need it for something."

Mr. Gold just raises his eyebrows, but turns around and rummages in a small box. He turns around, holding a small bottle with a glimmering golden liquid, that's somewhat translucent, but still manages to give off an appearance of power. Henry reaches for it, but Mr. Gold does not hand it over. So Henry swallows, straightening himself up. He knows what is coming. The price. And Rumplestiltskin won't take his pocket money, he knows that from experience.

"Surely you don't plan to use it on Miss Paige?"

Henry feels something burning in his face and he immediately shakes his head.

"Oh, no, nothing of that sort. Just..."

"Just what?" Mr. Gold probes, looking directly into his eyes. Henry's instincts tell him to just leave, but he's never been one to listen to instinct over heart, so he remains rooted to the floor, looking back. "My simple price is to know what you need it for. That's all."

"That's all?" Henry asks hesitantly, wondering if there's something hidden that he'll come to regret. Surely even Rumplestiltskin can't mess with what he has planned, right? No, of course not. His plan is foolproof. He's even got a name for it, Operation Koala, and it's going to work. He's fairly certain it will.

"Yes. Go ahead," Mr. Gold says patiently, waiting calmly and Henry realizes that he really has no choice but to say. He shifts from foot to foot, but eventually nods, looking up at Gold.

"Well, I know Emma's in love with my mom- don't tell her I said that, though," Henry immediately adds, knowing that Emma will probably break not only a toaster, but a microwave if she finds out he said that. Mr. Gold just smirks.

"Everyone in this town knows that. Continue," he says calmly. Henry swallows, biting his lip. Maybe it's not the best idea to tell Mr. Gold. But he won't do anything, right?

"Emma's my mom's ride to the Spring Festival Formal tonight, and I plan on slipping it into her drink. Hear me out. She's already in love. And I've read up the effects, a love potion feels like you got drunk, really, really fast. And I know that the dosage size depends on size, weight, muscle mass and all that. I'm hoping Emma will act on her feelings tonight and they can stop their awkward interactions. It's so frustrating."

Mr. Gold looks so amused, that Henry's almost frightened. Because his smile is almost like a devilish sneer. It makes the hairs on the back of Henry's neck stand up and try to pull him out of the shop, but he does nothing of that sort, waiting for a reply.

"Good luck with that. Do let me know how it turns out."

"I will," Henry promises, though he's sure the whole town will know by tomorrow if he's successful. He's seen Emma drunk. She's not exactly quiet or smooth. But hopefully mom will fall for her anyway.

And so, he leaves, to set his plan in action.


The goddamned dress is so itchy and she doesn't understand how some women can actually wear dresses everyday. They are the true people to be feared. Emma is cursing under her breath, trying to scratch her upper left backside raw, where one of the dress straps is poking her and, quite frankly, pissing her off. She doesn't understand how a dress strap can be so offensive. Gritting her teeth and whispering that it's only for tonight, she removes her hand. The itching commences immediately. It's all of three seconds before Emma is wildly clawing at the strap, hissing and glaring at it.

"Ha, you thought you could beat me," she triumphs in glee after it finally rips, but stops bothering her. It only occurs to her a moment later that she's ripped the dress Mary Margaret spent $78.54 on. Well, fuck. Although she'd told her mother that it wouldn't end well. Whatever. Now she ponders how to fix it, and her face lights up as she comes up with a brilliant solution, if she does think so herself, and decides to rip the dress strap off completely, and then rips the one on her right shoulder. Tossing them into the back of her bug, she looks down at her work proudly. Now the dress is strapless, but hey, maybe it won't itch so much.

With her momentary peace, she looks at the time on her dashboard, and immediately deflates. She's parked in front of Regina's house (which is an understatement, considering it's a fucking mansion) and she'd been waiting for it to be 6 o'clock, the time she'd said she'd come pick her up. The Benz is getting fixed, because the windshields and all the windows are shattered (thanks to Regina's magical mishaps). And while it was getting fixed, Emma had volunteered to be Regina's ride (at her parents' and Henry's request). Despite the commentary ("What an offending color for a car, Miss Swan, it almost hurts me eyes"), Emma had found that Regina wasn't that bad of a friend. In fact, Emma's actually kind of happy that she has someone to hang out with at the stupid festival. Even if that someone will be uptight and bitching all evening.

It's 6:03 now and Emma can't stall, or she'll never hear the end of it from Regina. Reluctantly, she sighs and get out of her beloved bug and pulls the stupid pink dress down (since it's so fitted, it has a sly tendency to slide up her legs, something which will probably end up in disaster). After checking herself to make sure she doesn't look like a potato, she goes to the front door and rings the doorbell. On a whim, though, Emma hides beside the door, planning to scare Regina. They're friends enough now to do it, right? And the worst thing that can happen is that Regina won't bat an eye and just incinerate her with a fireball. In fact, that's probably what's going to happen. And the more she thinks about it, the more she realizes that scaring a former Evil Queen might not be entirely smart. In fact, she's about to just step aside and let it go, when the door opens, and Emma's torn. In a split second, she makes her decision and goes along with it, jumping and saying "boo!" in her scariest voice.

And then, everything goes wrong.

Emma waits to be lit on fire, she actually tenses and expects it, but nothing happens. She just sees Regina's brown eyes widen, before becoming hazy. And it takes a moment too long for Emma to realize what is happening, and therefore, she just stands and watches as the said former Evil Queen sways for a moment and then crumples to the ground very ungracefully with a loud THUD.

Emma stares in shock at the ground, not even sure of how to react.

"Fuck," she whispers as soon as she gets her senses back. She hadn't meant to make Regina faint. She's pretty sure her mouth is hanging wide open as she drops down to her knees, feeling the damn dress scurrying up her thighs, and hesitates before setting a hand on Regina's arm. She's fallen in an awkward, twisted angle and Emma knows that the only way to feel for a pulse is by moving her. Cursing the gods of jokes, Emma shakes her head in wonder and awkwardly attempts to pick Regina up.

It's not like she's heavy. She's actually surprisingly light. But it's all dead weight and Emma suspects Regina's fancy designer heels are probably adding like ten pounds to the total weight. And it's all she tries to think about, blocking out the fact that one of her hands is touching Regina's boob and even pressing in slightly and how hot it is. Emma swallows, before repositioning Regina's unconscious body into an easy bridal-style carry, taking her to the couch of the living room and laying her down gently.

It's then that Emma gets a good look at Regina. She's wearing one of her fancy red business dresses and her hair is so long now, down to her elbows, but it's currently messy, no doubt from the fall. Emma suspects Regina will be pissed off about it when she wakes up. Which should be any second now, right? Emma jolts as she realizes she hasn't even checked Regina's pulse and she tries not to focus on how her fingers are pressed against Regina's hot neck, against the bare, soft skin which she knows she could never touch should Regina be awake. But getting down to business, Emma breathes a sigh of relief as she feels the pulse thrumming under her fingers. So at least she still hasn't committed a murder.

Emma suddenly feels guilt. Lots of it. She'd thought that people only fainted in movies, and out of all the people in Storybrooke, Regina would've been the last person she'd thought would ever faint. But still, she should've been more careful, and she can't help but feel like Regina's a lost little puppy when she's asleep. Her chest is rising and falling slowly and one of her hands is resting on her stomach daintily and her other arm is just hanging off the couch and- fuck, Regina just looks adorable. Maybe it's the fact that when she's awake, she's always so bossy and so rigid, and now, she's just herself. Emma feels a small smile coming to her face, but quickly shakes her head. No. No more thoughts on Regina's cuteness.

"Regina?" Emma says gently, taking Regina's hand which had been dangling from the couch and squeezing it softly. "Wake up, please. I'm starting to get worried. A handbook I read said that you should only be out for a minute at most, and... well, I have no idea if it's been a few seconds or a few minutes, but just wake up. Please?"

There's no response and Emma feels the hints of panic now. What if Regina is seriously hurt and it's all her fault? Some Savior she is.

"Please?" Emma begs. "I'll let you boss me around tonight. I won't even eat all the fried food. Regina, please."

Regina makes a small moaning sound and Emma's stomach completely tightens and she feels a bit of heat inside, but she pushes those unwanted feelings away and waits hopefully. Regina stirs and then finally, her eyelids flutter and she blinks. It seems to take her a moment, because she looks at the ceiling, then at Emma, then at their hands and she immediately scowls a la Mayor Mills and tries to sit up. She seems to be dizzy still, because she almost falls back down, but the woman is so damn stubborn, so she sits up anyway, but doesn't pull her hand away from Emma.

"Explain yourself, Miss Swan," Regina says coldly, blinking excessively and looking too pale, but otherwise like her usual authoritative self. Emma breathes a sigh of relief. The Regina she's used to is back.

"I'm sorry. I tried to scare you when you opened the door and it worked too well, I guess. You fainted and I, uh... I'm sorry. I really am. Are you okay?"

Regina almost looks embarrassed and was she not so pale (no doubt from the lack of blood flow that the stubborn woman is preventing by sitting up instead of laying down), Emma could have sworn her cheeks would have flamed. But it's only for a moment, and Regina looks like the mayor again.

"Yes, no thanks to you," she snaps, suddenly realizing their hands are still linked and pulling it away. "Remind me to hire a new sheriff, since you're so incapable of even being able to interact with the regular human species. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go fix my hair, which you so rudely ruined..." She trails off, standing up and paling considerably again and swaying dangerously and Emma is up immediately, ready to catch her if she faints again, but Regina just holds on to the couch until she regains her balance and stalks off into one of the bathrooms.

Emma just blinks.

Well, at least she's not dead. She does hope Regina will eventually forgive her, because it's awkward to be the chauffeur to someone who wants to kill you. With a sad sigh, she sits down and pouts, waiting for Regina to return. She takes the moment alone as a chance to bring her dress down and she jumps up, insistently pulling it back down and looking at the time with a sigh. 6:12. So it hasn't even been thatlong.

Her phone buzzes in her bra and she checks the text.

Hey ma. Are you and mom gonna be here soon?

Emma sighs. Henry had been very insistent on their attendance. The Spring Festival is a stupid, week-long event of activities that ends on Sunday, with the formal dance. It's widely accepted as a 'come as you are' event, meaning that people go in couples or alone- and no one bats an eye. Emma has been trying very hard to remember that she and Regina, though they're going together through transportation means, are not really going together. She is the sheriff and Regina is the mayor. They have to be there. Regina's car is broken. She is the ride. It is as simple as that.

We should be there soon, kid.

She doesn't mention Regina's faint, because if she knows the queen, then she knows that she would die before having everyone know that she apparently can't take a joke. Literally can't take a joke. Emma shakes her head in wonder as she waits for Regina, the woman who can cast evil curses in a heartbeat and faints over a little scare. The woman is a goddamn wonder.

Cool. I'm helping Paige and Ruby with drinks. What do you and mom want?

Emma frowns. Her sixteen year old kid is doing drinks. Sure. Why not? As long as he's responsible enough to not drive after. She'll have to talk to him about it.

Her Royal Highness is going to probably want apple cider. And I want a beer. No drinking, okay kid?

Wouldn't dream of it. :)

Emma sighs. She trusts him. He's a good kid.

The door to the bathroom opens and a moment later, Her Royal Highness emerges, hair meticulously back in place, looking as regal and bossy as ever. She looks down at Emma in disdain.

"Are you going to stand up, Miss Swan, or just sit there and do nothing?"

Emma stands up, feeling her cheeks flush, and pulls her dress back down, replacing her phone in her bra. Regina's nostrils flare.

"Look, Regina, I really am sorry. It's never going to happen again. I won't eat fried food tonight. Hell, I won't even drink beer. And you can even make me eat your rabbit food. I'm sorry."

Regina's face doesn't change, but her eyes are considerably warmer. She just readjusts her purse strap on her shoulder.

"I suppose I have to forgive you. Idiots never truly mean to indulge in their idiocy. It's something that can't be helped."

Emma smiles, feeling her heart expanding. Her feeling is similar to the one she'd felt when Regina had admitted she didn't want to kill her that one time, a few years ago, in the vault. Baby steps, but they're working. Five years ago, Regina would have already incinerated her.

"I'll take it, Your Majesty. Let's go. Our son asked me when we'd be there."

"He did?" Regina asks, her eyebrows rising. It never fails to amaze Emma how even something as simple as a text from Henry makes Regina so happy. Even after years. She nods, walking out the door and once again stopping to pull down the dress. She'd made a big mistake by saying yes to the dress. Of course her mom would give her a ridiculous dress. Pink.

Emma opens Regina's door because she still feels bad and Regina slips in, sitting with her usual poise and elegance. Emma slouches in her seat and puts the keys in the ignition. But she pauses before turning the bug on and turns to look at Regina seriously.

"Are you sure you're okay? You're still pale. We don't have to go-"

"Thank you for your concern, Miss Swan, but I'm fine," Regina all but snaps. Emma sighs; even if Regina doesn't feel well, she'll never admit it. Besides, maybe some food and apple cider will ensure she feels better. Emma is still going to keep a close eye on her, though. For totally platonic reasons. Since she's the Savior and all. She has to... save, and stuff.

So she sets off and runs several red lights (because who's going to arrest the sheriff?) and finally arrives at the Town Hall's ballroom. There's cars all around the street and Emma finds a parking spot like two blocks away. Regina doesn't even complain like she usually does.

And then the awkward part comes. They didn't come together, but they kind of did. And Emma doesn't want to just walk off and hang out by herself for the entire evening. So she stays next to Regina, pulling the damn dress down every few seconds.

Well, at least Regina seems to be back to her normal self. The formal queen has her nose in the air and is considerably less pale, though she does seem to be dreading the evening already. Emma feels that. #same

It's when they're inside that it's really awkward. Because even though it's not a couple's event, it kind of is. Emma spots her lovely parents talking to Ashley and they catch her eye. Regina just stands stiffly, looking unsociable and uptight, as she always does in public events.

Her mom waves at them and very conspicuously gives her a thumbs up and winks at her. Emma looks down at the dress (which is above her mid-thighs now) and groans, pulling it down but giving her mom a very fake smile in return. Her mom buys it and goes off with her dad, no doubt to continue being ridiculously cheery.

"I have to admit this is quite dull," Regina mumbles under her breath and Emma can't help but agree. It's too formal. And hell- even though she doesn't like the Spring Festival, some of the activities aren't too bad (as proven by her golden medal for the pie eating contest)- everyone is too stiff tonight.

"Right? I could be at home right now marathoning Netflix," Emma complains, and it sounds more whinier than she would have liked, but she's seriously regretting tonight already. It's only when she spots Henry excitedly waving them over that she sees a real reason for getting out of bed at all on a Sunday (well, Henry is a reason besides Regina). She nudges Regina gently.

"Look, it's Henry."

Regina brightens up too and they both make their way towards the drink table, where Henry pulls out two paper cups and hands it to them carefully. He's smiling sweetly, too sweetly. Emma's suspicious, but it could just be that he drank a little and that's why he's on edge.

"Thanks," she says, taking her beer. It says Emma on it with sharpie. Which is weird, but okay, she'll bite. And Regina is smiling at Henry, already sipping her cider.

"How're you doing?"

"Fine, thanks, mom," Henry says with a grin, looking between both of them. Emma's lie detector pings, but she can't quite figure out what he's up to. Sneaky little bastard. He gets that from her. "But I'm helping Paige and Ruby, so... do you wanna not block the way?"

Emma turns and sure enough, there's people waiting for drinks. So she nods as Regina quickly assures with an "of course" and they both walk to a safe corner, that's not completely crowded. Technically, they don't even have to be standing next to each other and they can both go and mingle, but Emma doesn't want to just leave. Especially since Regina hasn't already left her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Emma asks again, noticing that Regina's finished with the cider already. "I mean, if you're still feeling hot- uh, like, flushed or sick or whatever, I could get you another drink..."

"There won't be a need for that, Miss Swan," Regina cuts her off with a smirk, snatching the beer out of Emma's hand. She protests by letting out a whine equivalent to a toddler losing her candy. But Regina just smirks.

"I thought you said I could dictate your food choices for the night, with what you did earlier?" she asks in an unfairly seductive voice. Emma shifts from the foot she's standing on, pulling the dress down with one hand and pouting.

"But you don't even drink beer. So you should just let me drink it."

"Watch me," Regina declares, obviously taking it as a challenge, which is not what Emma meant. She distinctly remembers Regina saying that beer tastes disgusting and bitter compared to wine. And if Regina is sick, or whatever, then Emma definitely doesn't think she should be drinking beer. But Regina, as stubborn as always, raises the cup to her lips. She sniffs it for a moment, looks almost hesitant, but then downs the entire cup.

"Happy?" Emma asks with a hint of irritability. Sometimes, it's as if Regina does the exact opposite of what she wants on purpose, just to piss her off. But then she reminds herself that Regina's not that immature. At least, she certainly doesn't want to come across like it.

But there's something wrong with Regina. She blinks, looking almost detached and depersonalized and dazed. Emma's immediately concerned because maybe it has something to do with the faint earlier. She hadn't hit her head, right? And gotten some head trauma? Because that would be bad.

"Are you okay?" Emma asks for what feels like the hundredth time that day. But she means it. And she wouldn't mind asking it a thousand times if it ensured Regina's well-being. Even if she'll never admit it.

"I... yes. Yes, of course," Regina says quietly. She's suddenly a lot more reserved, even more than usual, and Emma just feels as if something is off tonight. Even Henry is acting weird and she doesn't know why and it's really bugging her. She hates not knowing what's up. Her eyes narrow and she inspects Regina, who still is acting really weird.

"Okay-" Emma begins, but she's immediately cut off by Regina, who's suddenly looking kind of shocked and uncomfortable. Which is totally OOC. Emma just frowns in utter bewilderment. She should've totally stayed home watching Netflix.

"Emma, can I talk to you? Privately?"

"Uh, yeah. Of course," Emma finds herself replying automatically, and it's kind of making her nervous. Regina has lost her usual regal undertones and now just looks like an anxious teenager. Emma is almost more scared of this Regina than of the Evil Queen, and to be honest, that's just terrifying. Their relationship has gotten much better (to the point where Emma might even call Regina a close friend) and though they both have issues with letting other people in, it's gotten easier. For Emma, at least, who thinks she's getting close to cracking Regina, until she goes and pulls some unexpected shit. Then, it's just like they're back to Square One, and that's something Emma really doesn't like, because- dare she say it?- Regina might be her only close friend. And the fact that her only maybe friend is a former Evil Queen says a lot that Emma doesn't want to face, but she has to: she has issues with either making friends, or allowing them in enough to know that they're wanted. She thinks it's the latter, and she's not quite sure how to fix that, because the only time she and Regina are having a real conversation (meaning, not simple small talk and teasing banter) is when they're outright fighting and Regina's shooting fireballs at her and she's pathetically throwing spaghetti at Regina (it happened, but Emma still denies it and she will continue to deny it until the end of time).

At the core, though, it doesn't take a Ph.D. to know that she and Regina are simply not good at talking. If anything, Regina is good at hanging up on her when conversations take a turn to even slight emotions. And the worst part, the very worst, is that occasionally, Emma almost wants the conversations to take an emotional turn, because God knows she's been somewhat emotionally dead for the past thirty-three years of her life and it gets tiring sometimes.

They step outside of the ballroom. Emma glances up, knowing that Regina's office is just up the stairs and she's unsure if perhaps that's where Regina wants to talk. There are some people, obviously just taking a break from all the heat inside and Emma's not sure just how private Regina's thoughts are. Sensing this too, Regina, looking unusually flustered, begins walking up the stairs to her office and Emma uneasily follows. Once the door is locked, Regina begins pacing, looking pained and uncomfortable and Emma doesn't even know what to expect anymore.

"What is it?" she urges, and the puppy in her is worried and protective. She can't handle seeing Regina in any turmoil. Maybe it's just the Savior in her, or maybe it's not, maybe it's the part in her that's inevitably fallen for Regina's damn charm, but she needs to know how to make Regina feel better. Her palms are sweating.

She needs to know, dammit.


Henry feels his stomach drop to the ground in panic.

He'd done everything. And he was certain he'd succeed. He'd poured the potion into Emma's drink (he'd taken careful measures, since ma was slender and small, but it had to be a considerably larger amount considering how much she'd been working out lately, to account for muscle mass), he'd set it aside, he'd put every piece in its place, and still, something had to go wrong.

In a moment of distraction where Paige had pulled him aside to point out how hilarious it was that Leroy was still chasing Astrid around, he hadn't noticed mom take the drink from ma. He hadn't noticed until he had turned around to watch them, just in time to see mom finishing the drink.

And now, he feels absolutely sick. He knows for a fact that Emma loves his mom, because it's obvious and she's been drunk a couple of times and basically admitted it. Mom, on the other hand, is an extremely private person who never drinks more than a glass of wine. Of course, he suspects she like Emma, but he doesn't know. The potion was supposed to have loosened Emma up to admit it to his mom. But it's probably a much larger dose than what was needed for his mom (who, he hates to say, simply doesn't go to the gym daily like Emma does) and probably can't handle such a dose of a strong potion.

But even worse…the potion only creates the illusion of love. What if mom doesn't really love Emma? What if they do something stupid, only for the potion to wear off?

Panicked, he goes over to Mr. Gold, who's quietly talking to Belle in a table off in a corner.

"Mr. Gold, I have to talk to you. It's an emergency."

Belle nods encouragingly and Henry attempts to smile at her, but he can't even muster that. Once Mr. Gold has stood up, he whispers urgently to him.

"I messed up. Regina drank it, not Emma. It's probably too much for her and she might not love Emma. How can I reverse it now?"

"You can't," Mr. Gold says, and he doesn't even look upset. "I'm sorry, Henry. What's done is done."

"But imagine how devastated they'll be. My mom will be completely embarrassed. You know how private she is. And Emma… oh my God, she'll be crushed, because she's completely in love with Regina. I don't even know where they went. They just disappeared."

Mr. Gold leans in quietly, and speaks to Henry under his breath.

"They will be fine. The Savior can handle it, don't you think? I'm just imagining what our dear Regina must currently be feeling. Completely trapped in the illusion of love…"


Regina doesn't even begin to understand how she feels.

Her eyes are closed and she's leaning against the wall and Emma is worried, sweet Emma, who's always there for her, is worried and she's asking her to please say what's wrong and Regina almost can't because she feels as if she's on cloud nine. All of her limbs feel tingly ad she feels like she could just float off into space and the blood in her head is rushing, and goodness, she feels blood rushing everywhere and her heart is beating so quickly and it's beating with love, because she's never felt such strong love, never, never, never, and now, there's just too much of it and she can't even begin to handle what to do with it. The feeling is amazing, but it's too much, but it's strange, because too much love can't be bad, right? So why does she feel almost sick by how much of it she feels?

And Emma's still worried.

"You'er seriously scaring me right now. Please talk to me. You've been acting weird all night, ever since I picked you up. I told you we should have stayed."

And the idiot, beautiful woman is still blabbing, making a fool of herself, and Regina wants to tell her to stop. Because she feels fine. She feels perfect. She feels sick. It's an odd combination. But the heat inside her is swelling and there's not much for her to do. It's too much.

She opens her eyes and turns to Emma. The most beautiful, loving, perfect woman to ever want the Earth, or any land, for that matter.

"I'm in love with you, Emma. I am so in love with you. I couldn't tell you before. I don't know why. I guess I didn't feel it. But how have I been so stupid? You've been here all along. Forgive me. I love you. I love you. I love you!"

And she can't stop herself as she stumbles towards sweet Emma and kisses her passionately, but not roughly. No. She'd never want to harm her beautiful Emma. Never. Not a single scratch. Because that would be awful and Regina would want to die if she ever hurt her Emma. Pretty Emma. Flawed Emma. Broken Emma. Emma who is perfect with all her flaws. Emma who is the light of her world. Emma.

And Emma looks stunned. Her wide green eyes (which are shades of emerald and grass, alternating as they get closer to the pupil, and the most perfect eyes in the realms) almost look like they're filling up with tears and Regina feels awful, because Emma shouldn't cry, Emma should never cry. Emma deserves a happy ending, just like everyone else. But Emma's happy ending is of utmost importance.

"You... you love me?"

"I do," Regina confirms, cupping Emma's face in her hands. She kisses her again and tastes vanilla, but it's not just any vanilla, it's a hypnotizing vanilla. Hypnotizing. Regina gasps for breath, stepping back for a moment and clutching her heart (it's going fast, too fast, much too fast). Her mind struggles to make sense of what's going on and it almost reaches a moment of clarity, but just as quickly, it's overcome with the love, once again, the love and the passion and the desire.

"Regina? You look sick-"

"I'm not, and I've told you, you lovable girl, don't worry about it. I want you. I love you. I want..." Regina trails off with a moan as Emma suddenly kisses her back with equal passion. She senses Emma is overjoyed. Ecstatic. Shocked. Accepting. And it's perfect. Because that's how Emma Swan deserves to feel.

"Regina, are you sure?" Emma manages, but her voice is completely overtaken by desire and love. Which is what Regina feels. "I never thought you loved me back. I can't believe it. Is this real? Oh, God, please don't let this be a cruel nightmare or some trick. Please."

"Of course it's not," Regina whispers, and through her hazy thoughts, she pulls up Emma's pink dress, which had already been sliding up anyway. Emma reaches for Regina's zipper.

And in a mess of whispers and bites and "I love you"s, their oh-so-pretty dresses fall to the ground.