A/N: This is from a Tumblr giftset I came across. Seriously. My thesis is never going to happen. Link to the gifset here: Gifset
The Charmings and Emma gather at Regina's house for a game of truth with the extra ingredient of Regina's magic truth serum, where Snow opted out on drinking it for concern of her baby.
Needless to say, no lies were told that day.
"Will you tell me exactly why we're doing this again?" Regina drawls as she settles back against the high backed chair. Her arms rest regally against the wings of the chair, and she looks every bit the queen she once was. She brings a crystal tumbler of cider to her lips and smiles quietly to herself as it slides with a slight burn down her throat. Sweet but not cloying, dry but not barren, this was not your average cider.
"Because," Emma starts, exasperation coloring her tone. "Zelena took our memories, which is something everyone seems so fond of doing in this damned realm. Belle said your truth serum might help it all come out."
She just wanted to get this over and done with already. The thought of Mary Margaret playing ringmaster in this little game of truth had her on edge. She really didn't want the subject of the ever-missing Kitchenaid toaster to come up.
"Right," Regina answered dryly. She pursed her sinfully red lips in distaste, but said no more, opting to focus her attention on draining her tumbler.
Emma, just as nervous as the stoic brunette, followed suit. The amber liquid slid smoothly down her throat, leaving a blazing trail that made her belly feel warm. "Damn, Regina. This is no Angry Orchard!" Emma exclaims. Regina raises an eyebrow in caged amusement. Emma gets up, takes the proffered glass from the brunette and fills up both of their glasses again. Emma was quite certain she would need at least two more of them.
Regina empties her second glass with surprising swiftness before moving to the pre-prepared tea set. She carefully poured out three measures: one for her, one for the irritating blonde and one for said blonde's slightly more irritating father.
"This is the truth serum. Just one gulp and any question will be answered with the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," Regina says, handing the glasses to the two idiots.
Her eyes meet momentarily with stormy green ones, which are flashing with an intensity Regina has come to expect—or maybe even crave. She tears her eyes away and lets out a shaky breath, collapsing less gracefully than usual onto her throne. The clear liquid sloshes painfully close to the edge of the small teacup she held.
She steels herself, mentally putting up walls around thoughts and desires she knows she doesn't want broached. She was putting her trust in Snow fucking White. It was laughable, almost, if it weren't so terrifying.
She held up the small silver teacup. Its burnished surface reflects the light from the chandelier above and bounces off of Emma's golden hair. It's curled today. Lightly bouncy and so, so soft—
"To truth," Regina says drily, smiling pointedly at her once-mortal-enemy Snow White. The shiny teeth framed by devilishly red lips read: Don't fuck this up, Snow.
The brunette paled across from her, but smiled brightly in that annoyingly hopeful way of hers.
"To truth," the other two echo, before all three of them down the clear liquid in unison. It slides down their throats like a gel, clinging adamantly to every cell it comes into contact with. It feels like it takes years to finally drop down into their stomachs, leaving a sticky trail that coats their throats, making them feel unsettlingly numb.
Emma swallows nervously. She wants to speak but is terrified of what is going to come out of her mouth.
"Is it—" Mary Margaret starts.
"It's working," Regina cuts her off sharply. The pale woman across from her moves her lips up in a closed smile and nods her head 'Good.'
"So, uh, what do you guys remember about last week?" Mary Margaret starts, not wanting to address anyone in particular.
David feels his throat constrict. Words were coming out. "I hated Mary Margaret's closet," his throat pushes out. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows these words shouldn't be said, but they're there. And he knows that in an embarrassing somewhere in his mind, they are unerringly true. "One time, I couldn't tell her and Granny apart when they were standing next to each other from the back."
Regina Mills has her hand over her mouth. Her eyes are wide in shock, and her hand is covering the biggest smile she's worn since Henry gave her that so sweet card for her Birthday last year. Her eyes wander over to Emma, who is making absolutely no attempt to cover the amused smirk on her face. Green eyes slide over to meet brown ones, which echo each others' mirth. As one, their eyes turn to the face of the mortified Snow White, whose flushed face still hadn't left its initial default of shock.
When green and chocolatey brown eyes meet again, Regina can't suppress a snort. It starts in her nose and moves to a full-blown belly laugh, which Emma follows suit in almost instantaneously. The two of them continue to look between the helpless Prince Charming and the increasingly furious Snow White and it's all—well, it's all too much, honestly.
It's quite a few minutes until the women find it within themselves to stop laughing so much. It's subsided to the occasional snort, huff, or bitten lip, which Snow deems acceptable for the moment.
With a cold smile, Snow turns her attention to Regina. "Since you find that comment oh-so-funny, Regina, please. Tell me about your guilty pleasure." The words are delivered with that haughty look that Snow White must have patented somewhere along the line, and Regina already cannot wait to get back at her.
The words that she most definitely wants to keep very, very private bubble up inside her. The swirl and percolate, jumping to get out. Regina calms her mind, though, used to truth serum. She might have practiced with it on occasion, just in case it was ever used on her when she was the Evil Queen. "I love French fries," she begins. The words come from a place of truth and are strangely satisfying to release. "They're oily, they're tasty. That delicious golden crunch…and they're not green." Her lips purse as her truth ends, and she looks guiltily at Snow White, knowing that if she doesn't that she would likely be a continued whipping post.
Snow smiles politely, "Cute, Regina." She turns her head to Emma, who is gripping her chair with dull, bitten nails in anxiety. "And you, Emma? What's your guilty pleasure?"
Fuck. Emma feels it coming. Emma knows it's coming. Her heart sinks just as the words fly past her lips, "I think about sex. With Regina. All the time. Everywhere."
Emma can't look anywhere but the floor.
Mary Margaret practically screams, "What the FUCK did she just say?"
Despite the wholly embarrassing situation, Emma sneaks a look at the object of her fantasies, mostly to see her reaction to Mary Margaret's reaction.
She gets a head nod. A simple, short, approving and impressed head nod.
What did that mean?
Regina slides off her throne and stands behind Emma's chair. Her deep, sultry voice vibrates in Emma's ear, "Ask me if I have the same problem."
Emma shivers and swallows audibly. This was not—it could not—was it actually…? Nothing was making sense to her. Her heart is racing and things are throbbing, but she manages to choke out the words, "Do you…have the same problem…as me?"
"Yes."
The word drops in Emma's ear and sinks into her like a rock into a placid pond. Ripples of awareness lap at her, gently urging her into action.
Emma swivels around. She and Regina lock eyes, and suddenly, finding out about lost memories does not seem quite so important anymore.
The door closes behind the two women, and behind it, a grown man faints.