In the wake of the series ending, I have started back reading fanfiction… which lead me to the old story I had written. After reading through it, I felt the pull to keep writing. This should just be a short little thing (we shall see) to get those creative juices flowing again before I dive back into the big story. Enjoy!

Warning: het ships in early chapters.

"This one!" Emma says, pulling the pale yellow dress off of the rack, spinning around so the other woman could see it.

"No."

"Regina! Come on! We only have three weeks left. We have got to figure this out."

Regina rolls her eyes and reaches out for the dress, rubbing the hem of the garment absentmindedly between her fingers.

"I don't like the material," she lies.

"Okay," Emma sighs, exasperated. She hadn't really wanted Regina in her bridal party. Hell, if she's being honest, she didn't really want anyone in her bridal party. She would have been happy with just having a justice of the peace or something making it official between her and Killian.

But her mother had insisted. And when Belle backed out after everything that went down, Snow, as the matron of honor, had prodded Emma to ask Regina to be her replacement. Of course, with being busy with a baby, Snow had handed over many of her traditional duties to Regina once they finally gotten her on board.

This… picking out dresses for bridesmaids… was the one she was looking least forward to. Yet, here she was in taffeta land.

Emma had been sheepish, at best, when asking. They had a long and weird history, after all—one that started with anger, resentment, and jealousy, then evolved into a sort of quiet admiration for each other and a real, adult friendship.

They simply got each other.

They got each other without all of the pleasantries that go along with friendship. Sure, they had their fair share of lunches and nights of one-too-many shots, but they certainly weren't best buddies. They didn't see each other every day. They didn't even talk every day, but it was relaxed between them and they both enjoyed the ease of their relationship now.

But it hadn't always been that way. There was, of course, the bump in the road about a year ago. The thing that sort of, almost happened that they both now pretend didn't sort of almost happen.

"There was Maleficent," Regina breathes, a wistful smile crossing her face.

"I KNEW it!" Emma yells, the liquid in her tumbler sloshing dangerously close to the rim.

"You know nothing. Besides, it was decades ago. I was young—had no idea what I wanted, much less what I was doing."

"So you weren't very good?" Emma pulls a feigned look of disgust.

Regina rolls her eyes. "Not at first, no. But I learned. I'm a quick learner," she purrs playfully "and we had lots and lots of practice."

Emma can't hide her intrigue, but she does a damn good job at disguising the twang of jealousy that pulls at her gut. "You were together for…?"

"Oh, we were never together. We would just you know…"

"Hook up?" Emma encourages.

"I suppose, though that seems like such a crass way to put it," Regina responds with her nose in the air.

"So you haven't entertained the idea since?" Emma eyes her, cautiously.

"Have I entertained what idea? Sleeping with a dragon again?" Regina acts casually, amusement dancing across her features.

"You know what I mean, Regina. A woman. Have you not considered it since?"

Emma had just finished telling Regina, over a couple (okay, a few) drinks, about her sexual past after a lengthy discussion of wedding dress colors. Regina had been shocked to learn that Emma's experience had been so… limited. She had, of course, admitted to being with both men and women, but the number of people she had been with was quite low.

Regina shrugs. "There hasn't really been anyone with which to consider it."

Emma hums, taking a sip from her cup.

"What?" Regina snaps.

"What what?"

"That hum. What is that supposed to mean?" Regina asks, bristling, figuring she knows exactly what that means. And she also knows that they have flirted with this territory once or twice before over drinks, with Emma coming dangerously close to pulling it out of Regina that she had, yes, at one time, been quite physically attracted to Miss Swan. But now… with Hook and everything. Well, it just was a silly whim.

"Regina, come on. Don't tell me it never crossed your mind."

"That WHAT has never crossed my—" She stops and cocks an eyebrow toward the blonde.

Emma responds with a flourish of her hand, motioning to her own body, a suggestive look on her face.

Regina shakes her head in the negative, but has to fight the hot flush taking over her neck and face. "No. No, it hasn't. And I think you've had a little much."

Emma tries to save her drink from being taken as Regina passes, plucking it from her grip.

"Kidding, kidding! Regina, I'm kidding," she whines, following the glass with her hands and mouth.

Regina just throws a smile over her shoulder before she pours out the remnants of both of their glasses into the sink. Emma makes her way beside her just in time to see the last of the amber liquid fading down the drain. She puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head.

"Damnit. That was some good cider."

Regina nods and dries her hands on a nearby towel, "a little too good, perhaps."

She runs her hands flat down her shirt, then fluffs her hair before facing Emma again. Emma, who is standing with her back against the kitchen island, arms folded over her chest just stares and smirks.

"What?" Regina asks, pretending to be put out with her.

Emma smiles and bites her bottom lip. "Nothing. I just think you are one of the most put-together people I have ever met."

Regina can't hide the genuine smile that graces her lips now. "Thank you, Emma," she says, a little too breathy for her own liking.

It's just a split second and Emma is in her space, pushing her back up against the sink gently. "Emma, what are you—"

Emma grins and places her hands on either side of Regina's hips, effectively trapping her in the space. Regina looks down her toned arms to her relaxed hands, one of her knees bent casually as she leans into Regina just slightly.

"Never?" She asks again, disbelief in her voice.

Regina swallows hard, yet feels no panic, no need to move from this position although her body is tight with tension, a stark contrast to the blonde's cool and casual demeanor.

"Emma, dear, I think you have had a lot to drink and—"

"I haven't. Not enough to not know what I am doing," she whispers as her right hand trails up Regina's arm slowly to her neck before snaking around to the back of it, her fingers making light circles there, just at the hair line.

Regina's limbs go weak as her eyes flutter shut and her head begins to droop forward. It has been so long since she has been touched like this. Even before, Robin had been sort of rough… which had its place at certain times, but surprisingly, Regina was much softer in bed, preferring to be caressed and nuzzled rather than grabbed and pulled.

Emma might be surprised to know that, she figured. Or maybe she just instinctively knew. If the way the younger woman was currently running the tip of her nose softly across Regina's cheek was any indication, she knew. Or maybe Emma was actually this gentle anyway. Maybe she wasn't always the pigheaded savior. Maybe, even with Killian—

"Emma, no," Regina says sharply, moving out of her grasp. She immediately sees the hurt expression on her face. "I'm sorry. We can't. You know we can't. You are engaged. And I—"

"You what, Regina?"

Emma is waiting. Waiting to hear the one million excuses Regina is sure to have as to why this will never work. They don't want to hurt Henry, Snow and David will never understand, they are public officials, they couldn't possibly—

"I… I don't…" she hesitates, "we're friends, Emma."

She leaves it at that. She doesn't want to hurt her. She doesn't want Emma to hurt herself, to make a mistake in her current state and jeopardize her own future, her own happy ending. But she can't lie to Emma and tell her she doesn't care for her in that way.

So she leaves it at that.

Emma nods, pretending as though she just came to her senses. "Of course we're friends. I just wanted to make sure," she winks, a weak attempt at humor.

Regina swallows hard and nods.

"This one," Regina finally gives in, holding the long, lavender dress up to the light.

"Yeah?" Emma smiles.

"Why not?" Regina says playfully.

Regina hands the dress over to the too-eager shop attendant who takes it over to the dressing room, ushering Regina in. She looks back at Emma with a roll of the eyes, meeting excited eyes and two thumbs up.

A few minutes later, Regina emerges from the dressing room with the poise and grace of the queen she still very much is. Emma's throat goes dry and her eyes wide.

"You don't like it," Regina states, turning to go back into the changing room.

Emma stops her with a hand on her forearm. "No, I—I do! It's beautiful. And you look—wow."

Regina can't help the glow that reaches her cheeks.

"So? We're good? This is it?"

"Uh, yeah. Definitely," Emma stammers. "I'm just afraid you may show the bride up," she laughs, trying to recover, while her eyes betray her as they rake over the curve of the brunette's hips.

Regina spins to face the mirrors, her back now to Emma. Her very exposed back to Emma.

"Oh, here, let me… you—" Emma reaches out timidly and touches the small of her back where the zipper is slightly parted. There's a jolt of electricity that makes both of them jump when their skin touches.

The attendant quickly makes her way over, taking over for Emma. "If you're both settled on this one, we can take your measurements now and make adjustments as needed."

"Of course," Emma and Regina say in unison hurriedly.

Typically, Emma would make a joke about Regina's backside being a little too "voluptuous" for that particular dress, but there is nothing funny about that body in that dress at this moment and Emma certainly has no complaints about what is currently in front of her. Zipper be damned.

Even now, as the seamstress finishes up her alterations, Emma can't shake the sensation she can still feel tingling in her fingertips from where she had touch Regina's impossibly soft skin. It had been so long. Since that night, Regina had made sure to keep a good physical distance from her at all times. And, taking the cue, Emma had done the same and settled comfortably in her life with Killian.

But is that all she wanted? Comfort?

"Emma, are you okay?" Regina asks for a third time, this time snapping her fingers in front of her face.

"Hey! Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Did they get everything pinned and tucked?"

Regina nods, then turns back around to seek out the attendant once more, holding up a hand that goes ignored as the young girl excitedly helps another customer.

"I guess we're on our own here," Regina grumbles, tugging at the zipper as they reach the entrance of the dressing room. "Emma, I hate to ask, but would you mind giving me a hand with this?"

"Yeah, no problem," she gulps, starting to close the distance between the two of them.

Regina moves into the first stall, motioning for Emma. "I don't exactly want to put on a show," Regina laughs nervously, pulling the curtain as Emma walks in behind her, the room much too small for two people- especially these two people. Especially when one looks like Regina and is in that dress.

"Tight squeeze," Emma jokes, squeezing in.

Regina throws her a stern glance over her shoulder, her dark, shiny hair bouncing, mesmerizing Emma.

"The room, Regina. The room. Not the dress. Although..." Emma laughs, her hands finally moving to the zipper as Regina gives her a playful nudge with her elbow.

"Well, it seems without ice monsters and wicked witches around to fight, I've let my figure go a bit," she sighs, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

"Regina, please," Emma scoffs. "People would kill for..." she trails off.

"For what?" Regina eggs her on... her ego needing a boost. She looks over her shoulder, watching Emma's brow crease in frustration, her bottom lip ticked between her teeth.

"This!" She says, triumphantly, as she finally gets the zipper mostly down.

She swallows hard when she catches a glimpse of the top portion of Regina's backside. It doesn't go unnoticed.

"Thank you, Emma," Regina smiles tightly and reaches around to hold the material together.

"Yeah, sure thing," Emma stammers as she slides from the booth and pulls the curtain shut.

When out of earshot from Regina, she takes a deep ragged breath and plops down on a plush white sofa. That was... intense. She knew that Regina had a great figure and that skin... that deep olive skin... so soft and...

"Are you ready to go?" Regina asks, snapping Emma back to reality once more.

"Yep."

"So what's next on my list of hand-me-down matron of honor duties?"

"Welllll, do you really want to know?"

"Why else would I be asking, dear?"

"So I sort of need you for something a bit unconventional."

"Hasn't this entire relationship been unconventional?" Regina quips.

"You're not wrong."

"Spill it, Swan. What awful thing do you have planned for me before your big day?" It takes all she has to keep the disgusted look off of her face.

"I need you..."

"Uh-huh?"

"Toteachmehowtodance," Emma says quickly, stopping on the sidewalk, her face hopeful.

Regina stops a few paces ahead of her and looks off in thought. "Emma, listen, I respect your decision to marry guyliner, but I certainly will not be giving the two of you dance lessons for your wedding."

"It won't be the two of us," she replies, looking down at the ground.

"So you're going to dance alone at your wedding? Nontraditional, but okay," she jokes.

"Regina," Emma drawls "I can't rumba and I... well, I've seen you dance."

Regina smirks. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

"That's what I was hoping."

"Do tell me, Emma, why won't your fiance be joining you for dance lessons for your wedding?"

Emma shrugs and looks away. "He said he already knows it and doesn't need lessons."

"Romantic," Regina scoffs, shaking her head in what should be disbelief, but at this point, it is pretty typical for Hook. "So he won't teach you himself?"

"He says he's not a good teacher. Apparently, some beautiful, exotic Latina taught him many years ago in some port city."

Regina can feel her skin crawl. Just thinking about him makes her want to shower immediately.

"Well," she says, beginning to walk again, "I guess, as your sort-of-maid-of-honor, it is my duty to be the beautiful, exotic Latina who teaches you the dance in this port city."

Emma beams, quickening her pace to catch up with her while Regina is already entering panic mode.