I don't care how complicated this gets, I still want you.
Author's note: The above quote served as inspiration for this week's Sunday Morning Smut. "Coming and Going" continues my fic "Come On, Be Nice," a first season OUAT SQ AU.
Author's note 2: This is not so much smut as very emotional sex. And there's plot. I just can't help myself. And neither can Emma and Regina apparently.
Going and Coming
Regina stared out the bedroom window watching the progress of Emma Swan down Mifflin Street back toward the center of town. The blonde had, indeed, made it out of the mansion without Henry being aware.
Touching her lips with the flat of her fingers, Regina recalled the other woman's parting kiss. She inhaled a surprised sip of air when she felt the tingles anew. Throwing the drapes closed she fought to draw her anger about her like a cloak, warding off the feeling of weakness as it dragged at her limbs, tingling in her legs and stomach.
She was headed for her closet when she heard the wood whisper across the floor and realized it was the front door opening and closing.
Henry.
No doubt he was headed out to find Emma. Her heart thudded painfully as she wondered what Emma would do when she was found. Hurriedly Regina dressed again, determined to stop her son from leaving with his birth mother, certain that nothing had changed. One afternoon of passion could not be sufficient to sway someone to stay.
Regina froze with her hand on the door as her mind tripped over its thoughts. In the mirror she could see her face pulled with worry. No. She firmed her jaw. She did not want Emma Swan to stay. She came onto the woman to drive her away; so she was only going out to see the back of the woman as she left. She was only assuring herself that Henry did not find Emma first and leave with her. She glared at her reflection, still seeing her cheeks with their high color and the way her throat swallowed with the memories of Emma's touch. She looked and felt intoxicated.
Emma had headed past the bed and breakfast, and the diner, needing more time to think. Leaving Regina with a kiss had happened in the spur of the moment, but she fought against the urge to turn around, run back, and take the woman in her arms again. She had taken the woman's offer; that's all it was, nothing more.
She had softened the panicked and prickly woman enough to be allowed to continue contact with Henry. She now knew without a doubt Regina loved her son. She wished any of her foster parents had felt half as much for her as Regina felt for Henry.
She found herself at a playground by the sea, sitting on a wooden play structure staring out at the Atlantic waves, the surface sparking with late afternoon sunlight.
"Emma! Emma! I figured out another part of the book!"
She turned to see Henry running across the rutted path of sand and grass, that fairytale book clutched to his chest. "Kid! What are you doing here?"
"Finding you," he said simply, slamming into the side of the wooden structure. "You like my castle?" he asked, Tossing the book onto the wood, he pulled his body up next to her,
"Your castle, huh?"
"Yeah, mom used to bring me here when I was little, but I told her I was too big for it. Now I use it to be alone since she doesn't come here anymore."
Emma shifted and shrugged. "Maybe you ought to share it with her again."
Henry twisted his face. "She doesn't deserve it. She's the Evil Queen."
"Henry," Emma spoke sharply. "Regi—your mother loves you. More than anything. If I'd had—"
"But she's evil," he insisted, interrupting her. "She doesn't deserve a happy ending. Look what she did to your parents!"
Henry thrust the book into her lap, flipping quickly to a page. She saw a picture of Snow White cradling a bloody Prince Charming on a stone floor.
"But David's not dead," Emma pointed out. "The Evil Queen didn't kill my parents."
"Because she couldn't in fairytale world," Henry said, rolling his eyes. "She had to come here to do that."
"If, as you say, David and Mary Margaret are Prince Charming and Snow White, I hate to break it to you, kid, but they're both kinda okay, y'know? Maybe a little…bland, but she hasn't killed them here in 28 years, either."
"Because she can't; she has no magic!"
"There's lots of ways to …" She shook her head. "You're not making any sense, Henry."
"Emma, you have to believe me! You have to break the curse, bring back the happy endings, make the Evil Queen pay. You're the White Knight, the Savior!"
Emma gripped his hand, hard, pulling the book free and tossing it on the ground. His protest was blocked by Emma gripping his shoulders and pulling him up to meet her gaze. "Damn it, Henry! Regina loves you so much! Do you know how much I wanted that for you? Things I never had: a nice home, good food — she cooks for you! She wants to make you happy. She tries. You're her happy ending, kid. You!"
"No, I'm not. I'm your son! I'm the son of the Savior."
"I gave you up because I was…I am messed up. I'm no savior."
"You gave me up because of the curse! Just like your parents did! It had to happen this way!"
"Well, that sucks, kid. And I'm not —" Emma stood; Henry grabbed for her hand, partially getting pulled off the castle as he tried to stop his mother from leaving. She grabbed his arm to push him away.
"You are not taking my son away from me!"
Henry froze, looking toward his mother, who looked to him exactly as the storybook showed her storming into the castle on Snow White's wedding day. "No!"
"Regina," Emma said. Henry stared at her, confused by the placating tone. "He—"
Regina stormed toward them; Henry pulled away from Emma, backing away from the Evil Queen, certain the fight between Good and Evil was beginning.
Then Regina stumbled; Henry spotted his fairytale book the same time Regina did, snatching it from the ground where she'd tripped over it. "What's this?" she demanded.
"It's mine!" Henry raced forward and grabbed for the book, successfully getting it away from Regina and continuing to run past her, escaping.
"Henry!" His mother's scream of his name followed him on the wind. Emma shouted once. But he wasn't caught, and no fireballs flew past his head. He glanced back only once to see Emma had grabbed Regina's arm. Whew!
"Hold on, Regina!" Emma grabbed for the woman's arm, the grip slipping until she only had hold of a cold hand. "Stop! It's all right."
"It's not all right! You were going to take Henry!"
"I wasn't. I was trying to tell him —"
Regina's voice interrupted, "He hates me."
"You love him."
"Of course I love him! He's my son! Not yours! You gave up that right when you signed him away!"
Emma exhaled. "I did." Regina was panting. Emma continued to try to soothe. "Come. Sit down." She tugged Regina's hand and backed toward the play structure. 'Henry said you used to bring him here."
Though still caught in her pique, Regina glanced around quickly. Her expression cleared, then became pained. "I did."
"He said he told you he didn't like it anymore." She reached for Regina's other hand, fretting at the hem of her skirt.
"He lied to me, to get him to leave him alone." Emma saw Regina's brown eyes shining. The woman was on the verge of crying. She squeezed her hand and waited for Regina to lift her gaze.
The silence ate at Regina. "Miss Swan—"
"Madam Mayor," she murmured, her tone light and easy. She covered Regina's lips in a kiss, her free hand coming up to stroke the soft throat, cup the woman's chin, making her lips part breathlessly, and give Emma access with her tongue to the warm recesses of her mouth.
"Em-ma," Regina gasped at the feel of Emma's tongue now moving around the shell of her ear.
The younger woman pulled Regina toward one end of the playground structure, an enclosed room of sorts, where four-year old Henry had once looked out and bounced on his toes, crying "Sea, sea!" Regina had simply gathered him to her chest and held him close, kissing his head.
Now, Emma kissed her head and laid her down on the wood slats. "But —"
"Just… God, I can't." Emma was panting; Regina was breathless, too, caught in the same grip of passion's promise.
Between hungry kisses, Emma's hand ventured up Regina's thigh, sliding beneath her dress, seeking, hungering, creating tingles of want deep in Regina's belly.
"I don't care how complicated this gets, I still want you." Emma breathed against Regina's throat.
The burr of Emma's voice set off burning need. "Oh god," Regina prayed, though she knew not exactly what for. She clutched at Emma's shoulders, pulling the woman's body down upon hers. Their legs tangled. She felt her heels dislodge. Quickly unbuttoned, and arms freed, their coats formed a cocoon around their bodies and Emma's palm was hot where it touched Regina.
She arched into more kisses.
"I will fix this." Emma's mouth closed over one of Regina's nipples which had hardened in the brief exposure to the chilled air.
Regina clung to Emma, feeling the woman's fingers beginning to press at Regina's center. She clutched at Emma's back, pulling at the shirt, pushing the fabric aside so she could grasp at satin soft skin, absorb the muscles moving beneath, and believe in Emma's strength.
Believe that maybe, yes, just maybe, Emma could fix this, fix everything.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, Emma's fingers slid inside Regina rocking and twisting, demanding that Regina's body respond.
There was no need for the demand. Regina's hips surged and receded as rhythmically as the waves just beyond their hidden spot. Her body clung to Emma's fingers same as her arms around Emma's neck. Her throat constricted around her panting breaths. Incoherently she cried out, pulling at Emma's hair and squeezing her eyes shut tight to try holding onto some semblance of herself.
Her cheek was nipped, and her eyes shot open. Caught in Emma's searching green gaze, Regina gasped. For the fleetest moment she had no idea who she was. Then the abyss of Emma's blown pupils beckoned and she was swallowed whole by an explosion ripping through her every fiber.
She felt tattered, worn.
Emma rolled onto her side next to Regina, her right arm cradling and lifting her, pulling her against Emma's chest. Emma kissed her forehead, stroked her hair, and rearranged their coats to retain their body heat. Slowing her breathing, Regina felt her breath's warmth radiating off of Emma's chest. She blinked in the process of coming back to herself.
It was then she felt the fear creep back in. Her limbs felt weak; something foreign pulled at her limbs. Staring at the prominent bones of Emma's clavicle, she fisted her fingers against the desire to draw invisible whorls on Emma's chest with her fingertips. She licked her upper lip. It tasted of Emma. It tasted of… loving.
But love, Regina knew too well, was weakness. She pushed shakily onto her hands, looking down at Emma looking up at her. "This cannot happen again," she declared.
Emma's expression, which had been calm, twisted. Traitorously, Regina's hand rose and cupped Emma's cheek, fingers threading and tucking a lock of the golden hair behind the shell of an ear.
Growling low, Regina snatched her hand back, then she twisted her whole body away. Head down, she straightened her bra and pulled the sides of her gray dress back over her breasts. Pulling her coat's sides tightly together over her chest, Regina stumbled to her feet, the wood clattering under her half-off shoes and she nearly turned an ankle, feeling the sting of it appear in her muscles. She leaned against a wooden post and readjusted her pumps. Finally, she staggered off across the sand and grass to where she had parked her car.
"Regina!"
"Don't be here when I get back!" she shouted, the words ripped from her mouth by the wind, tears streaming down her face.
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