Rating: T for a brief sexual fantasy
Note: This takes place in a world where Emma and Regina have time to adjust to becoming Henry's moms together without also having to deal with curses and evil witches and whatnot. So, probably AU.
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to ABC and Disney.
It's not like Regina hasn't ever thought that way. She does what she likes, takes what she wants. But what she's attracted to is power. She wants to take it and crush it, mold it under her fingertips, until all that's left is an extension of herself. And in her world, power has (almost) always lain with the men.
The blonde in the red jacket is a hideous excuse for a woman. She knows nothing of grace. She's hard angles and stubborn lines, digging the heels of her boots into the cement and gritting her teeth against the world. She isn't a man and she isn't a woman; she doesn't know how to be either. She may technically be a princess, but there isn't a regal bone in her body. For her, a frown is just a frown. She doesn't know that with a tilt of the chin and a twist of the lips, she could have the masses trembling before her. And maybe, most horrifyingly, she doesn't even care.
But for all her uncouthness, there's something about her stance, feet apart and shoulders squared, facing everything head-on, that gives Regina pause. There's nothing imperial about it, but Regina hasn't met someone in a long time who acted like the world could throw anything at her and she would survive unchanged. It's been even longer since a person like that actually believed it.
Regina wants to see that belief crumble. After all, taking away hope is what the Evil Queen thrives on. But when Emma remains standing after every blow, boot heels still planted firmly in place, Regina isn't exactly disappointed. Perhaps you could say that she was even pleased.
With Emma, it's different. She hates the Evil Queen. Hates hates hates her. What kind of sick person puts a curse on everyone just so that she could have the last word? Emma hates Regina's icy exterior, her dismissive manner, her terrible parenting skills, and her obsessive need to make sure everyone else is just as miserable as she is. She hates Regina's ridiculous outfits and her impeccable house and her penchant for showing off her boobs. But most off all, Emma hates Regina's stupid smirks. She hates Regina's full, plump lips and her perfectly applied lipstick that Emma can't look away from even if Regina's in the middle of murdering someone again. And that really should not be happening. It hasn't happened before. But something about those dark, gorgeous lips kind of makes Emma want to bite them, lick off the color until it's just Regina's red mouth under her own, and then tear open one of those dumb corseted gowns and break through Regina's persistently cool demeanor until she finds the woman underneath.
When the whole custody-of-Henry argument dies down and Henry accepts that he loves both hismoms and "my son" turns into "our son," Regina doesn't know quite what to do with herself. She can't hurt Emma anymore, because that will hurt Henry. Like it or not, this woman birthed the child Regina loves as her own, and her son wants this woman in his life. Like her or not, Emma Swan is going to be part of Regina's life for good. And Regina…doesn't quite know what to do with that. She's not used to asking permission, to checking in with someone else before she makes decisions. Regina does what she wants. Except she doesn't anymore. She does what Henry, and by extension Emma, wants. She makes compromises. She's learning to accept input without starting a war.
Regina decided to raise Henry on her own because she thought there wasn't room for another adult in her life. She knew that she didn't play well with others. But Henry is forcing her to. She'd meant to be the single mother of an adopted baby and somehow become the co-parent of a precocious-but-cherished boy with a mind of his own. She became parenting partners with Emma Swan.
Emma, on the other hand, doesn't know what the hell is going on. One night she's chasing down suspected felons and celebrating her birthday alone, and the next she's the mother of an ten-year-old boy who already has a mother. It's like she and Regina are exes, splitting custody of Henry and making joint decisions about him, dancing around each other, only she and Regina never even got it on in the first place. Emma has done literally nothing to deserve this. If Henry hadn't turned his puppy dog eyes on her, she would never be in this situation. But she can't say no to him, and she's beginning to realize Regina can't either. Despite being a pathological destroyer-of-happiness, Regina really does care about Henry. And Henry cares about her. Emma has only ever wanted her son to have his best chance, and she can see that somehow, someway, that involves having Regina in his life. So here she is, playing Mom #1 and Mom #2 with the Evil Queen, of all people.
And the thing is, once they get over the first hiccups, it's not actually that bad. Regina loves Henry and Emma loves Henry and Henry loves both of them, and that love makes it work. It can be awkward as hell at times, but the love always pulls them through. Regina doesn't curse anyone and Emma doesn't kill Regina (or arrest her), and Henry seems to be adjusting and developing well. He's better than he was when he was when he first met her, better for having the best of both women. And there's something about "our son" on Regina's tongue that makes something low and fierce clench in Emma's gut. There's something about the taste of it on her own tongue that makes her proud and possessive and scared, all at once. Emma wants something, but she can't admit it to herself yet.
But they're good together, she and Regina. They have the most important thing in their lives in common, so it's becoming less and less of a surprise when their aims align with each other. Regina is a good mother, once she learns to start listening to Henry, but she doesn't believe that about herself. She's scared that he will leave her.
"He loves you, you know," Emma says generously one evening, mostly because she's tired of watching Regina worry over something that's so obviously never going to happen. "You're a good mom, and he knows it."
Regina is not used to having these kinds of conversations with people. She is not used to showing weakness. She doesn't know how to do this. "Well, I love him," she says. "He deserves the best."
Emma hears the unspoken: and that isn't me. "Yeah, he does. But he ended up with us, and I don't think we're doing too bad."
Regina looks at her curiously. "No, I guess not." Emma still hears the doubt in her voice.
"Hey, Regina," she says, stepping a little closer, "the kid's happier than I've ever seen him. Archie says he's very well-adjusted for his age and the situation. But you've known him longer. What do you think?"
"I think," Regina says, "that you're right. About that. He is happier now. More than he ever was, just with me."
"Hey," Emma says, moving more into Regina's space, "if he just had me, he would be one sorry kid, so don't cheat yourself out of the credit. You've been just as much a part of this as me. He needs you."
Regina sighs.
"He loves you. You've learned how to put him first. We both have. I don't think… I don't think things would be as good if he only had one of us."
Regina doesn't say anything, and she looks off to the side, not meeting Emma's eyes. "Hey," says Emma, moving even closer. She does something she's never dared to do before: she curls her fingers around Regina's arm. "Hey," she says again, softly. "I could never do this on my own, and I don't think you could, either. Together, we're what Henry needs. Together, we're his best chance. He's never going to want to leave you. Even if he did, I wouldn't let him. He needs you, and I need you."
Regina looks at her then, startled and soft-eyed, lips parting in a surprised breath.
Regina used to do what she wanted. She doesn't, anymore. She's learned to wait and see what's best.
Emma used to let things happen to her. She doesn't, anymore. She's learning to take what she wants.
And what she wants, what she's wanted for a long time, is Regina. She wants Regina and she wants Henry, and she wants them to be all together, one family, like they were always meant to be. Everyone's best chance rolled up in one love.
So she surges forward and catches Regina's mouth with her own, swallowing her gasp. She nips at those wine-colored lips like she's wanted to since she first saw Regina in the sheriff's office a lifetime ago. "Regina," Emma says, like a sigh. She pulls the other woman into her arms, gathers her closer like she never wants her to get away. "Regina. Regina."
And Regina lets herself be pulled closer, lets herself be captured and held. She leans into Emma, leans into the kiss, trembling with the realization that finally, what she wants is what she has.