Characters aren't mine, nor do I claim that they are.
Regina poked her head into the office on her way past. Emma's writer's block seemed to have been temporary, she noted. Emma was typing furiously with two fingers, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth. The frown of fierce concentration gave way to a grin as the blonde raised her head and saw her girlfriend watching.
"Thought of a story, dear?"
"I did! And I've just finished it - do you want to read it?"
Regina's heart warmed at Emma's happy and proud enthusiasm as she made her way around the desk and perched on the sheriff's lap to study the laptop monitor. After a few moments, her eyes widened and she choked on thin air, coughing violently.
"Emma!" she sputtered. "You can't post this!" She turned to glare at her girlfriend, face as red as one of her apples.
The blonde's grin faded and a blush began to rise on her own cheeks. "Why not?" It was a sheepish mumble rather than a serious challenge. "Because of the... but..." She stumbled before giving in and sighing. "I'm sorry Regina, I couldn't think of anything, and well, THAT's what I mainly think about."
"But, Emma," Regina gestured at the computer. "That's..."
"I know," Emma cut her off. "It's private and personal and intimate between just you and me, and shouldn't be shared with anyone else." Her expression developed puppy-dog eyes. "But it's really the only thing that came to mind, and it's happening between the two characters, and it's written under a pen name, so no-one would ever suspect that it's you and me and..."
"No, Emma!" Regina halted the blonde with hands on both shoulders. "That's not what I meant."
Emma looked up at her in surprise. "Then what?"
Regina sighed. "Sweetheart," she began - to soften the blow - "You can't post it because your grammar is atrocious."