Listen, I really WAS going to write another chapter for 'a mistake' and then tHIS happened. I don't even know what this is and it's really stilted and blah but whatever. It just feels so good to have finally written more than 500 words in one sitting. I know how fucking frustrating it is to have a writer continually not update a fic you've been wanting to read for ages but I can't describe to you how hard it's been for me these past months to dredge up the motivation to write even a few sentences. I just hope this spurt of it sticks.
As always, you people are lovely and inspiring and I adore you and I hope I can one day finish things wITH happy endings so I don't continuously batter you with angst.
Also, I've wanted Zelena/Emma banter for ages and this is my way of getting it.
Oh, and if the timeline in this isn't correct, be kind and disregard it? I barely got through season five. The beards made it almost unbearable to watch so I've only seen each episode once - and during a good portion of them I was only half attentive.
Also, also. Mia Elizabeth is the baby's name. Because I thought it up and I'm quite attached to it.
When Emma wakes the next morning, she's already come to the decision that she is going to forget about last night. She's going to completely etch it out of her mind. Killian will never find out and she's never going to bring it up to Regina. Ever.
She's resolute.
So when she walks into Granny's, calm and intent on ordering the grande of all coffees, she doesn't falter in her steps when she sees Regina in the corner booth. She most certainly doesn't bang her booted toes on a metal chair.
Except she does and it makes one hell of a loud screech as it scrapes against the tile and she winces as every pair of eyes in the diner shoots up. Including Regina's. Emma doesn't lift her head, just curses under her breath, cheeks burning, as she lifts the chair back up under one of the tables.
"Quite an entrance there, kiddo."
Emma glares at the white-haired woman as she slides into one of the stools of the bar, folding her arms. "All of your coffee. Give it to me."
Granny chuckles, rough and highly amused, and Emma just snatches a napkin out of the bin and starts to tear at it, corners first.
"For a Charming, you're a rather cowardly lion."
Emma jolts, head snapping to her left as Zelena slowly lifts herself up onto the stool adjacent to her. She has Mia in her arms, wrapped up in a pale pink blanket. Her hair is down, soft curls tickling at Mia's face.
Emma's heart turns to absolute mush at the sight of her tiny, wrinkled nose and has to force herself to scowl, offense coming to her as an afterthought.
"Would you like a gold star for that cheesy movie reference?"
"Oh, please," she scoffs as she rocks baby Mia in her arms gently, "I have more grace and conviction in my left pinkie finger than that simpleton, cackling oaf did in that horrible film."
Despite herself, Emma almost chokes on a laugh, having been given her cup of coffee and taken a long gulp of it.
Zelena snickers, eyes alight with amusement, an added gentleness to the lines around her eyes now as she dips her head and coos softly to a stirring Mia.
Emma can't help herself; she reaches out a hand and traces a gentle finger down the slope of Mia's nose, a small smile of wonder on her lips, a distinct tug at her belly at the sight of such a raw display of innocence, a human life at the tips of her fingers. Mia screws her face up and it reminds her so much of Henry as a baby (in memories not her own, memories given to her as a gift) that she lets out a stunned breath, caught between a laugh and a gasp.
Zelena smiles as she watches Emma's fingers venture carefully over gossamer skin. There's a beat of silence, and then another until it's broken, words spoken so quietly and tenderly that it takes Emma a second to fully cognize that they've come from Zelena herself.
"How long have you two been ignoring it?"
Emma, heart thumping and ever stubborn, replies with, "Ignoring what?"
Zelena gives her a look, one she's seen on Regina countless times before – it doesn't hold quite the same weight as Regina's does, hers comes with five years of memories, of knowledge. Zelena's just makes her feel exposed, makes her feel like maybe she's not quite as good at coming off as unaffected as she'd thought.
"I bet Regina finds that positively adorable." She tilts her head, studying Emma's features as if she's trying to understand every line and curve. "I suppose I do see the appeal. My sister hasn't always had the best taste, you know."
Emma blinks over at her, bristling in true offense, anger swelling up inside her throat at the crudeness. Perhaps some things were harder to curb. But she guesses the Mills sisters always have had a penchant for sarcastic quips. "Her soulmate died less than a week ago and you're cracking jokes about her taste?"
Zelena gives an overdramatic roll of her eyes, shifting Mia higher up into her arms and brushing the backs of her knuckles across wisps of strawberry tinged hair. "Oh, calm down. I'd hardly be so irreverent in front of her. I was only making a point."
Emma balks, eyebrows rising. "Which would be…?"
"That you and my sister have been dancing around your feelings for one another for far too long and whatever's happened recently has only made it that much harder for you to overlook it."
Emma's face burns, feeling like a specimen under a microscope. She tries not to squirm, to give any more fodder to Zelena's razor sharp astuteness. She looks down at the coffee cup in her hands, thumbing at the lip of it. "How do you know that 'something's happened recently'?"
Zelena gives a soft snort, careful not to wake a now soundly sleeping Mia. "Because I'm not an idiot and you're not at all subtle."
Emma scrunches up her face, attempts a dirty look.
Zelena tuts, hand reaching out to knock a knuckle underneath her chin. Emma jerks away, irritated and cheeks aflame. "So cute," she chuckles. Emma gives her a baleful glare. Zelena gives an outright laugh, full-bodied and annoyingly pretty; it rubs at Emma like sandpaper.
"My, my," Zelena says, laughter lingering in her words as she soothes Mia, the sudden sound having woke her, "how ever does my sister resist that caliber of sulking?"
Emma straightens her shoulders, brow corrugating even further without her permission, "I am not sulking."
Zelena presses her lips together and Emma's about to go in full-on defensive mode just as another party joins them, moving right into the space between her and Zelena.
"Having a lovely conversation, are we?" It's said tersely, one of those practiced politician smiles painted across plum lips.
Even though the dark eyes landed on her, Zelena, of course, is the quickest to respond. "Well, we were until you interrupted it, yes."
Regina just rolls her eyes, like she's actually the eldest of the two. Emma ducks, nose nearly pressed into her cup, shoulders hunching, hoping if she makes herself small enough Regina will leave her be. "Emma, a word?" Well, damn it.
Regina lets her fingers trail along the bottom of a socked foot before making her way to the back of Granny's, heels clicking with each step. Emma just stares after her, eyes moving from her cup to Regina's back.
"Looks like someone's going to have to learn how to roar."
Emma grinds her teeth. "Oh, piss off," she grumbles before ambling off the stool, coffee in hand.
"And feisty, too," Zelena sing-songs, "make sure to bring that to the bedroom with you. My sister enjoys a challenge." Emma misses the wink and the grimace-turned-eye roll from Granny, the air kiss Zelena gives in return.
"What's up?" She asks breezily when she turns the corner and is facing Regina who's backed against the closest wall. The image strikes her with its familiarity, a different outfit, shorter hair, a coat or was it a jacket? folded over forearms, eyes full of pain and unbearable longing. She takes a sip of her coffee, willing the memory away.
"'What's up?' What's up is that you have been ignoring me for the past five minutes and chatting with my sister. I do not like being ignored, Emma. Is there something we need to talk about?"
Emma feels her neck grow damp with sweat, an itchy prickle making its way down her spine. Her trench coat feels too heavy, too thick around her shoulders. She really doesn't want to talk about this here. "Uh…no? I just didn't see you," she fumbles, cringing at the lameness of the lie.
There's that look, that weight. It sparks something inside of Emma; she feels the sudden, inane urge to laugh, to wrap her arms around Regina and hug her. It startles her so much that she misses the beginning of Regina's reply.
"…and I'd like to think that we are at the level of friendship where you can at least say hello to me when we see each other in public."
Emma scratches at her nose, nodding her head, desperately relieved for the out. "You're right – yes, we are…I'm sorry, I, uh, I shouldn't have been rude like that. Do you, do you want to have breakfast with me?"
Regina blinks a few times, an expression of shock and then confusion passing over her features before she nods slowly, clearing her throat. "Of course," she breathes, looking a little suspicious before it smooths into a soft smile. "I'd love to," she amends.
Emma smiles, a little awkward, wondering if Regina is thinking about last night as fervently as she is. Wondering why she didn't bring it up just now, why she didn't push the subject. Wondering if maybe Regina doesn't remember.
She finds, as she hovers a hand at the small of Regina's back as they both make their way to the corner booth, that she doesn't want that. She doesn't want that at all.
"Okay, listen. You will not tease me about this, you will not even bring it into a conversation after tonight or I will magically make it so you are bald for the rest of your life."
There's a laugh, full-bodied and pretty again and Emma wonders how the hell the Mills sisters can be so bitchy and alluring at the same. "You're even adorable lobbing threats, Charming. But you have my word, scout's honor. I shan't repeat this to another living soul."
Emma glowers at the screen of her cellphone, the melodramatic antics the eldest Mills can't help but give in to.
"Okay, um…"
But Emma freezes, fingers sliding anxiously through her hair. The moon up above in a sky full of softly glowing stars does little to dwarf her disquiet. When she's about to tell Zelena to forget it and hang up, Zelena speaks.
"Emma…" and her first name sounds misplaced in her mouth, "I know this may seem disingenuous…" there's a small pause, like she's searching for the right words. The softness in the tone surprises Emma, it eases the nervousness in her gut a little, loosens a knot. "Given our past," she settles on, the words sounding a bit strained, "but if this is about my sister, and you're willing to come to me of all people with it, then I truly do promise anything you say to me will not extend any further than this phone call."
Her breath leaves her in a loud whoosh, the knot coming undone completely, and she sags with the freeness of it. She closes her eyes and tilts her head up toward the stars, head thunking against the door of her bug.
"Regina asked me to sleep with her last night and I don't think she remembers a single moment of it," she rasps, the words coming out of her too quickly, clumsily.
There's a stagnant pause, an almost inaudible hitch of breath. Emma's teeth nibble at the inside of her mouth, eyes screwed shut, heart pounding in her ribcage.
"Why wouldn't she remember it?" Zelena asks, a careful note to it.
Emma's free hand curves into a fist before relaxing again. She repeats the action.
"Because she was drunk."
Zelena snorts. "Unless she imbibed the contents of an entire brewery, I don't think her gap in memory is something you should be worrying about."
Emma isn't convinced. "She drank almost an entire bottle of whiskey, Zelena."
"And…?"
Emma sputters, free hand flying out as she takes a step away from the bug. "And that's a lot of fucking alcohol! If she didn't forget then she would have said something to me earlier!"
Zelena scoffs, the sound almost like a reproach. "I thought you knew my sister?"
Emma's head jerks back on her neck, this woman just as efficient at getting under her skin as her aforementioned sister. A speciality that ran deep within the Mills' bloodline it seemed. "I do know her," she grinds out.
"Clearly not as well as you thought," Zelena sniffs, haughty, and Emma regrets calling her instantly.
"You know what, this was a stupid decision. Forget I-"
"Oh, good god, you are the daughter of Snow White, aren't you?"
Emma screws up her face. "How is -"
She hears Zelena mumbling, the word histrionic in there somewhere.
"I am not -"
"At any rate, think about it, Charming."
Emma flares up, white heat flashing across her skin. "Stop interrupting me!"
"Stop being so dense." She continues before Emma can respond. "Think about it," she reiterates, sounding like she's trying very hard to abate her annoyance, "use that brain of yours, I know you have one. Why on earth would my sister ever willingly talk about something that's made her feel vulnerable, that's made her feel weak?"
"I-" but she stops, mind mulling over the words. She...she has a point. She's right.
"Oh," Emma breathes, an accident.
"Oh," Zelena mocks, a bit of that annoyance seeping through. Emma imagines she's rolled her eyes no less than ten times in the last few minutes.
There's another long pause as Emma wonders why the fucking hell she hadn't thought of that, known that, before Zelena speaks again, this time sounding much calmer.
"Just because it's something you think you don't wish to talk about but really do doesn't mean Regina feels the same way."
Emma rubs at her forehead, a little shocked at the perspicacity being shown.
She's a bit too perceptive.
Emma narrows her eyes. "There is no way in hell you got all of that from observation," she accuses.
A pause. The lack of response in and of itself saturated with guilt.
"Exactly. Spill."
"She's bossy, too," Zelena comments, an evasion.
"Bald head. Forever."
"Oh, alright, alright. Try not to get too excited, it might dislodge that stick permanently stuck up your ass."
She chuckles at the hesitation, Emma far too angry to properly respond. She's half a second away from just ending the call.
"Not even another threat?" She tuts, feigning disappointment, before she sighs. "I may have been listening at the top of the stairs last night."
Emma's jaw drops. "You…" then anger washes over her, tilting her vision red. "She drank herself stupid last night, she wouldn't have stopped, and you were just going to listen from the top of the fucking stairs?"
At this, it seems, Zelena finally drops all pretense, amusement gone in an instant. "I would have stopped her if it got to that point," she hisses, sounding deeply offended. Good, Emma thinks. Not fun when you're on the other end of it, is it?
"But since you're so hopelessly in love with her and always trailing after her like some sort of timid, hopeful little puppy, it wasn't really necessary, was it?"
Emma seethes. "She's my friend," she says lowly, jaw taut and eyes like fire, unseen, "and I was worried about her. That doesn't make me a timid little puppy, that makes me a fucking decent person. And I'm not...I'm not in love with her," she almost chokes on the words.
Zelena laughs, this one cruel, this one an echo of her days as the Wicked Witch. It sounds discordant here, even after only a few weeks of her trying so hard to shed herself of that facade, it makes something twinge inside of Emma. Like a plea. Like guilt. Like we know who you are, and who you will always be.
"You may have been able to convince yourself of that 24 hours ago but I saw you two. More importantly, I saw you when you left," her voice softens here, "I'm not sure at all how we've gotten to this point. Where you can call the woman who murdered the father of your son seeking advice on the woman who cursed you, tried to erase your entire existence, but I'm going to be blunt with you, Emma, and god only knows why." There's a beat of silence, as if she needs to collect herself, before she continues again. "I've gone through most of my life not knowing my sister, despising her, wishing her dead, wanting her miserable, to now sharing a home and raising a child with her. You're thick but you're not a complete moron," here Emma huffs indignantly, "and despite your hiccup in intelligence earlier, I think you truly do know my sister better than anyone. She talks about you sometimes, just offhanded comments that I don't really think she means to let slip. She cares a great deal about you, more than she wants to admit. And there's nothing wrong with a few nights of meaningless sex but that's not what you two are to each other."
Emma's in shock by this point, completely frozen with the raw, unexpected display of openness.
She hears Zelena take in a breath, body in a total standstill, rendered only to listen. Every syllable, every letter.
"You mean something to one another and I've spent enough time around the two of you to know that it's always been that way, that it will continue to be that way. It is not my place to tell you this but for the sake of my sister's heart and your own, please do not pursue this. Do not ask questions, do not let hope set roots into that starving heart of yours. Stay with the pirate, find happiness in something that can be yours." Her words have started to wobble and Emma remembers that Regina isn't the only one who's lost a true love recently. Her heart constricts, thrumming with sympathy now even as tears blur her own vision.
"Even if she could love you in that way, she wouldn't allow herself. Not now, not after him."
Emma gives a horrible little laugh. "Weren't you the one not even hours ago practically shoving me into Regina's lap?"
Zelena gives another one of her scoffs, the sound eerily similar to one of Regina's. "If you call that shoving you're far more vanilla than I thought. And that's just because I can't resist relentless teasing of a Charming. It's far too fun watching your face turn the shade of a tomato."
"But this isn't me teasing," her voice is somber again, "this is me trying to help someone I...care about."
The words are out before the thought even finishes running through her mind. "What if I loved enough for the both of us?"
Zelena gives a rueful chuckle. "Even you can't be willing enough to submerse yourself into that level of masochism."
Emma bites her bottom lip, willing the tremble in her body away, the iciness of her fingertips, the aching hollowness eating at her insides, forming a yawning chasm.
"I could for her," she says stupidly, blindly, words watery, scratchy.
"You don't even know what you want, Charming. You've only just realized that you've been yearning for something more than friendship, haven't you? She's too fragile and you're too lost. Let it be, Emma."
She almost agrees. Because she's right. And she shouldn't want this anyway, should she? She has Killian. She loves Killian. Let it be, Emma.
But there's something pushing at her bones, willing her in the opposite direction. It's that familiarity she felt last night, that wholeness that had inexplicably filled her lungs. It's maybe I need you and the feeling of Regina's hands in her own. It's unwavering belief in a woman who fought so hard for it, who deserves it. It's that one late night in the sheriff's station all those years ago, a secret, a punishment. It's a son that's theirs. A family she never knew she could have, a family she never knew she could want so fiercely.
It's fucking hope, and Emma, like an idiot, clings to it.
Zelena may be right. She doesn't know what she wants.
But she does know she doesn't want to let it be.
So she doesn't. She won't.
"I can't," she says, and hangs up.
I'm soRRY. But seriously, if you're expecting anything other than full-blown angst from me then you haven't learned your lesson. *hands you a flower*