"Miss Swan?"

Regina's perplexed, bemused tones jerk Emma awake. She has no idea why Regina would even be here, at this hour. It's still pitch dark. Still raining, too, by the sound of the downpour splattering against her roof.

Or, maybe not her own roof. Somehow, the bed feels larger. The mattress softer. The sheets silky and smooth – much like the skin of the person whose waist her arm is draped around.

Regina.

"Okay. That's new." The last thing Emma remembered, she'd been having this dream… something about Regina and her being at Granny's, sometime after close. They might've been alone. May have also kissed.

Dreams – they were weird, you know?

"I take it you didn't mean to poof into my bed?"

"Should I go?" She's not sure she can, actually. Not magically. Emma hasn't yet mastered the art of transporting herself at will. Consciously and on purpose, anyhow.

Still, she's about to get up – maybe find a couch to crash on until morning, or a spare room – when she feels Regina's hand catch on hers, holding her in place. Pulling her closer, even.

"No. You can stay." Regina turns onto her side and settles back into her; all warmth and curves and it's kinda perfect. "Just don't go sending us anywhere else, tonight. I am not waking up in the middle of some street. Or forest."

Emma wouldn't dream of it. Well, hopefully not.