Author's Note: takes place in the Enchanted Forest, sometime AU with Regina and Emma in a relationship, but Snow determined to marry her daughter off to a man. In a dress. At a ball. Sigh.
tumblr Prompt fic: Anonymous asked: slow-dancing
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"I can't do that," Emma said with a frown, staring across the ballroom at her parents moving in one another's arms elegantly across the floor among their friends. "I can barely do this dress."
"The dress is not you," Regina agreed with a similar frown. "Why did they make you wear it?"
"Snow said she'd always envisioned me in it for my first ball."
It was a purple chiffon monstrosity, strapless and pinning in Emma's body as though her breasts were caged animals.
Regina pointed out, "But you're uncomfortable. Why didn't you say something?"
"I can't. She's… it means too much to her."
"I think it would mean more to her if you were out there dancing with one of these eligible bachelors assembled."
"That our other sore spot. She doesn't get that they don't interest me, won't ever interest me." Regina ignores the pointed look Emma gives her.
"At least change your clothes," Regina suggests. "Make yourself comfortable."
"You mean with the 'infantile magic' I might misfire in using and blow my own head off?"
Regina grimaces at Emma's tone. Yes, she had said that once. In Neverland, back when she was first trying to teach Emma about using magic. "You've gotten much better."
"Don't kid a kidder, Regina."
"I'm not. Change your clothes to something you'd be more comfortable in. Then I'll show you how to dance."
Emma studies Regina's gown, which is surprisingly matronly, far from the suits she wore as mayor and, if Snow is to be believed, more like the gowns she'd worn as Snow's stepmother, before all hell broke loose between them. It's pale green, almost the color of an autumn glade.
Emma knows exactly what she wants to wear. She closes her eyes, envisions her choice of clothing and herself in it, and snaps her fingers. She opens her eyes just as the pale white smoke trail of her magic is dissipating.
From Regina's admiring look, she can tell she succeeded. She holds out a hand. "So this slow-dancing. Show me?"
Regina takes her hands and steps into Emma's space, right up against her, their figures sliding together comfortably. After all, they've been lovers for almost two months now.
She cups Regina's hip in one hand and palm in the other. "Like this?"
"Yes, dear, but I'll lead." Regina steps forward with her left foot, making Emma take a step back with her right. The motion turns them slightly and after another step, this time with Regina's right foot moving, the women are soon waltzing around the floor.
The music surrounds them, and even if Emma could feel all the eyes staring at them, it felt like they were in a cocoon all alone as Regina's dark gaze drank her in and warm red lips murmured her name in time to the music.