CHAPTER THREE

Emma sighs happily and leans herself slightly against the mike's holder. "Happily ever after is how the stories go," she begins and eyes the audience with a knowing grin. "But when you're 14 you don't know shit about real life. Happily ever after is a concept to strive for, y'know? It makes you still want to believe that it can be found." She nods to herself, pushes her glasses to the bridge of her nose and continues, "I mean, it's not before you've had your heart broken that you realise that that happily ever after might be a liiiiiitle hard to find." She drags out the 'i' in 'little' and pushes herself away from the mike. "My first love was a girl named Lily."

The audience awes, and Emma smirks.

"I know right? Totally a good girl name. But lemme tell you something. She was not." She shakes her head to herself and shuffles awkwardly in her boots. "I mean, she was totally my gay awakening too. There was never a time in my life where I dated someone who wasn't female. Or non-binary," Emma adds, for good measure. "But like, we ran away together, because she convinced me that she was also a foster kid and that her life sucked as much as mine, so we squatted in this giant beach house. We stole booze and made out on the couch and I was on a fucking high." She sighs again. "What did you do with your first love, hm?

"But no kidding, no kidding, she was a snake. She totally lied to me. She had this amazing family who loved her and cared for her, and she just threw it all away. Lilith Page." Emma tastes the name on her lips as she walks around the stage. "I was totally in love with her. Like falling over my own feet, stuttering and making bad jokes in love with her. She drew a star on my wrist, did you know that?" She holds out her arm, her wrist just visible beneath the cuff of her jacket. "It resembled this birthmark she had, and we were supposed to be together forever. I was an idiot," Emma shakes her head and continues, "because I wanted mine to be permanent too, so we found this shady-ass tattooist who was willing to ink me even though I looked like a fucking kid. My first tattoo everybody!"

There is vague applause from the audience, and Emma knows they are probably wondering where she is going with this.

She blinks against the bright lights. "First loves are hard for everybody, but I guess they might be a tiny bit easier for heteros, or is that just me? Hmm? No?" She licks her lips, "I guess there is an advantage to having your stories portrayed to you through Disney and books and magazines, hm? Makes life a little less confusing when you're the norm, am I right? It's so hard dating too, so hard," she continues randomly, "like, how do you even know if the girl from Spanish class likes girls, too? You're in high school for fuck's sake, standing out is impossible! And you'd think it gets easier when you grow older, yeah? Like, now you can just sorta – sorta spot all the lesbians at a party." She takes a breather, lets it hang there, "Well you can't! You can't even be sure now, because those damn straight girls have copied our tremendously awesome fashion sense and they have the nerve to get angry at us when we hit on them!?"

The audience whistles and someone yells "Hell yeah!" in agreement.

"Like, take it as a compliment, Aurora. Who is Mulan to know that you have a husband named Philip and a cute kid at home when you're dressed like that!?" Emma laughs and scratches her head. "Mulan's my friend by the way, I didn't just…" she chuckles, "…make that up." She takes her time, grabs her bottle of water and unscrews the lid. The audience waits as she gulps down half the bottle, before clearing her throat. "So yeah, confusion all over. Lesbians running amok. The horror. Ahhh!" She mimics a scream, hands in the air, which gives her a good laugh.

Emma continues on, slowly getting to the point. "Which makes me think of all the times people have come up to Mulan – my friend Mulan, who's like, my friend, did I tell you about her? Her name's Mulan." She clears her throat. "And uhm, Mulan's kinda – she's kinda androgynous, I'd say? Perhaps even more masculine presenting, which is why we never hooked up, because let me tell ya' something, I like my girls feminine." Emma laughs, "Getting off track here, anyway… Uhm, so we're at a party, yeah? And uh, one of those straight girls, you know? Straight girls? The type. They're like," She sticks out her pinky finger and mimics a saunter as she walks across the stage. She makes her voice more high-pitched as she continues, "'Uhm, excuuuuuuse me? Are you, like, a boy or a girl? Like, I couldn't figure it out, because, like, your long hair … confused me. But then, like, you have those boots, they are the same as my boyfriend's'." Emma bites her lip as the audience laughs. "And I'm just there next to Mulan thinking what the actual hell? Why do you even care? We weren't talking to you. We were just drinking our beers and trying to pinpoint the queer women. Regular Friday night!"

The audience laughs loudly and Emma sighs. She's getting to the point.

"So it made me think, you know? That we should all invent a secret codeword or something, y'know? I mean, something you can whisper into the ear of the hot chick on the dance floor, and if she whispers another codeword back, you both know that you're both gay." She takes a step back from the mike as someone whistles. "Thank you, thank you very much. I made that up myself." She laughs. "Or it could be, I don't know, a specific piece of clothing, y'know? Like, wear a green bow, you're a lesbian. Boom! Wear a yellow one, you're bi." She pauses. "Dotted one for ace. Perfect system! You're all welcome."

A scattered laughter is heard.

"The point? I'm getting there," Emma breathes out in a chuckle, "So picture this at a club, y'know? This chick in a yellow bow approaches this chick in a green bow and she whispers, I don't know, like, mango chutney into her ear, and the other woman? She replies with Socrates, and bam! It's a match! You know it! They know it! Everybody on the damn floor knows it! They go home. They fuck. They find their happily ever after. Fool proof system everybody, thank you very much!"

—-

Robin and Henry are playing Mario Kart in the living room while Regina fusses around in the kitchen. She is not anxious, she just doesn't like to have company when everything is not perfect. So she's made it perfect. She made cookies with Henry this morning, and she's got everything set up for coffee and hot chocolate, before she and Emma dives into the books. It is easier now that she invited Robin to join them, because she knows they will be able to entertain Henry when he inevitably grows bored of their talk on feminism.

She makes sure that her newly purchased books are blended perfectly with her older books just as the doorbell rings. It's not like she had lied to Emma about owning books on feminism, but suddenly she had just been nervous that perhaps she didn't own enough, so she and Jacinda had raided the corner bookstore yesterday on their lunch break.

Now she definitely owns enough. Along with some very interesting books on colour and ethnicity. It's not like she thinks they'll be discussing Simone de Beauvoir's The Second Sex, but she's nervous anyway. She wants to do good, perhaps impress Emma with her knowledge, but she also bought a book she thought might be especially interesting for Emma to dive into – Feminism & Popular Culture, a look into how women are portrayed in the media, which might hit the mark well on what Emma's trying to do with her shows. At least what Regina thinks she's trying to do with her shows.

Henry rushes from the living room, abandoning Robin mid-race, while chanting, "I'll get it, I'll get it, I'll get it," and Regina laughs to herself as she makes last attempts at her hair while ignoring Robin's raised eyebrows from behind her.

"You're not Emma," Henry's surprised statement reaches her through the door, and Regina's eyes widen as she rushes from the living room and into the hallway.

There's a blonde teenager with wavy hair and a pierced nose standing in front of her son. She's dressed in flannel and jeans, and she smiles greatly down at Henry. "No, I'm not, I'm Tilly," she says, eyes darting back and forth.

Regina furrows her brow and stops behind Henry, hands protectively on his shoulders. "And what are you doing here?"

"Emma just forgot something in the car," this person – Tilly, was it? – explains and leans slightly forward, glancing into the house. "So uh, can I come in?"

"Are you friends with Emma?" Henry wants to know.

Tilly seems to think about it for a second or two. "Uh-uh," she mumbles, just as Emma appears behind her, carrying a rucksack and a Tupperware container. "This is Tilly, it's my niece," she says. "And hi, thanks for inviting me."

Regina steps back and lets Tilly and Emma enter the house. Robin's appeared in the doorway, curiously peering at them through their thick glasses, and Regina watches them regard Tilly with slight interest. "I hope I made enough food," Regina mumbles and accepts the Tupperware container from Emma. "I didn't know you'd be bringing someone."

"I texted you," Emma says, and Regina knows she hasn't looked at her phone for hours, fussing around instead, "It's okay, it was kinda last minute. Killian had a – a thing, and Tilly's not always so good at being alone for too long." She motions towards the container in Regina's hands, "But no worries, she brought her own food. Marmalade sandwiches, right Tilly?"

"Uh-uh," Tilly agrees and peeks around the hallway and into the living room. "Sweet, Mario Kart! Can I play?"

Henry juts out his chin and proudly offers, "You can play with me and Robin!"

Robin shoots Regina a grin and follows Tilly and Henry into the living room.

"That's my sister's kid Robin," Regina explains to Emma as they make their way into the kitchen to store the container in the fridge. "They uh, they use they and them for pronouns."

"Cool," Emma says and leans herself against the counter. "Sweet place you've got here." She looks around the grand kitchen – one of Regina's favourite places in the house simply because she likes to cook so much – and smiles.

Regina closes the fridge and says, "Thank you. Sabine and I have held many a baking party in here with the kids while Jacinda cheers us on from the couch." She pours the coffee from the machine and places an extra cup on the tray she had prepared earlier. "Is Tilly a coffee or a hot chocolate kind of person?"

Emma grins. "Hot chocolate for sure." She eyes the tray and Regina can't help but love the faint pink on her cheeks and the upturned lips when she sees the cookies on the plate. "I'm sorry I sprung another guest on you. You didn't have to prepare all this."

Pouring hot chocolate into a pitcher – made from scratch and not just the powdered kind, in today's occasion – Regina says, "Pay that no mind. I could have checked my phone. I'm sure Tilly will get along great with Robin and Henry."

"Do you want me to carry that?" Emma questions, and she swoops in and picks up the tray before Regina can say anything. She carries it into the living room – tongue poking out between her lips as she concentrates – and Regina bites her lip to keep from making a snide comment, because she has seen Emma's show and more than once had the blonde woman alluded to the fact that she is quite clumsy. Regina just hopes that she doesn't fall over and spills hot drinks on her floors. They are quite spotted though, after Henry, Lucy and Roland's actions, but she always manages to scrub and clean them enough whenever it happens.

"It's the good kind of chocolate!" Henry cheers, and Regina feels her heart swell.

"What's in those cookies?" Emma mumbles to Regina beneath her breath as she sees Tilly eye them with a wide gaze and slightly open mouth.

Regina leans closer to Emma. "They are plain milk chocolate. That's how Henry likes them the best."

Emma grins. "Tilly's a picky eater, especially on days when she's not feeling too good." She turns to her niece and says, "It's chocolate cookies, no nuts or anything, so you can go ahead."

Tilly grins and snatches a cookie off the plate immediately. Robin pours themselves a cup of coffee, as well as two other cups, before turning to Tilly. "You're a chocolate kind of person, aren't you?" they say, and Regina takes note of the complete lack of judgment in their voice and the slightly interested tone instead. Tilly hums in agreement, and Robin pours two cups of chocolate.

"Are you ready to hit the books?" Regina turns to Emma and clasps her hands in front of her stomach. "I planned for us to sit in my small alcove office. It's where I keep all of my books."

Emma tears her eyes away from the paused game on the screen with a sigh. "Guess so," she mumbles, and she bends down to snatch up a stack of cookies from the plate, tucking them into a napkin, and reaching for her cup of coffee.

Regina hides her amusement as she daintily takes her own cup and urges Emma to follow her into the office. She'd pulled up another chair earlier – making the total amount into two comfortable ones, and one office chair – and she takes a seat on one of the softer chairs and places her coffee on the side table. She'd initially made this place so she'd be able to work from home if necessary, but also pulled in this chair to be able to enjoy a good book every now and then. Sadly it is not really used that much, but she thinks she'd like to change that.

"Holy shit, you have a ton of books," Emma moans as she slides into the chair. She tucks her feet over the arm and leans over, getting comfortable in the cushion.

With an arched eyebrow, Regina says, "Can't you sit like a normal person?"

Emma sticks her tongue out at her. "Gays in chairs, am I right? The riveting tale." She flicks her feet into the air, and Regina notices that she's wearing two different kind of socks.

"So what kind of books are you looking for?" she asks and takes a sip of her coffee.

Munching on a cookie – but carefully not spilling any crumbs on the chair, which Regina notices with fondness – Emma says, "Uhm yeah. I don't know? Like, the only thing I know for sure is that I don't want it to be just white feminists, y'know? Like, I wanna read something by someone of colour."

Regina picks up one of her older books from the stack on the coffee table. "Good on you. There's Sara Ahmed's Queer Phenomenology." She flicks the pages, fond smile on her lips, "But that might be a bit difficult, especially with your dyslexia. I did do a paper on it once, so I might be of some assistance."

"Tell me about it," Emma wishes, eyes watching Regina in awe, and the brunette can't help the faint flush she feels rise on her neck as she starts to talk about objects, disorientation and queer spaces.

—-

Regina and Robin prepare dinner together while Emma, Henry and Tilly battle each other in Mario Kart. Regina can hear Henry laugh excitedly plenty of times while Emma curses loudly. Robin is chopping up bell peppers for the salat, and Regina opens the oven to put in the lasagne. She pulls off the apron and hangs it on the hook by the fridge, and she sits down in front of Robin and takes a long drag of her red wine and sighs happily at the bitter taste on her tongue.

"That good, huh?" Robin asks with a glint in their eye as they look up from the chopping board.

Humming happily, Regina says, "Yes. I needed that. Emma's been asking me all kinds of questions, and I feel like I haven't used my brain this much in years." She likes it, but it feels good to complain a little.

Robin grins wickedly at that, and they look so much like their mother that Regina's heart swells. "She's kinda cute, huh," they grin as the knife slices through a red bell pepper – Henry's favourite.

Regina rolls her eyes and drags a finger along the stem of the glass. "Yes, Tilly does seem rather cute. I do think she's more interested in you though, dear," she replies with a snark, before raising the glass to her lips for another sip. At this rate, she will quickly have emptied the glass.

"Oh, shut up," Robin jokes and drops the knife to the chopping board. They motion towards the glass and wriggles their fingers. "Can I have some of that?"

"Don't tell your mother," Regina replies easily and slides the glass across the table.

Robin grins and takes a long gulp of the red liquid. "Ahh," they say as they put the glass down. "That's very bitter."

Regina smirks. "You get used to it."

Sliding the glass back over the table to Regina, Robin leans their chin in their palm, elbow resting on the table. "Are you serious though?"

Regina can see that Robin is smitten already, and she can understand why. Tilly certainly has some appeal, and it is not often that Robin meets anyone who so easily adjusts to them. "Yes, darling, I most certainly am. You should ask for her number."

Robin bites their lip, deep in thought and picks at a piece of bell pepper. "I'm not sure…" they vaguely begin, cheeks flushing slightly.

"It's up to you," Regina shrugs, taking another sip of her wine. "I just don't think it hurts to try."

"Perhaps I'll think about it," Robin replies, and there is a healthy flush to their cheeks. "Mom will have a fit though, whenever I tell her I want to go on dates, she freaks out and talks about her beautiful baby."

Regina throatily laughs. "Your mother is wicked and sentimental – a scary combination, I reckon." She breathes in the scent of the wine and sneaks a hand across the table to pat Robin's reassuringly. "But don't you worry, dear, I'll handle her. I've got 34 years of practice, you've only got 16."

Robin grins and says, fondly, "Thank you, Aunt Regina." They pick up the knife again and slice through another bell pepper. "So uh, you and Emma? What's going on there?" They wriggle their eyebrows, teasing.

"Nothing," Regina quickly – perhaps too quickly – says. She shifts awkwardly on her chair. "Nothing is going on with me and Emma."

Robin sees right through her. "Hmm-hmm," they say, eyes pointedly trained on the chopping board.

Rolling her eyes, Regina says, "I'm just helping her with more information on feminism. Research, you know. She needs it for her show."

"Yes, that might be true, but Aunt Regina," they pause, eyes wide. "She's funny, and she's not bad looking. And you deserve to be happy, even after Marian." They've always been so perceptive, bright beyond their years and interested in so many things that Zelena has never understood how happened. But Regina and Robin have always had a kinship, an understanding, and Robin calls them like they see them, even with Regina.

Regina takes another sip of her wine. "I'm not interested in her like that. It isn't like that," she says, but she can hear how defensive she appears, and how that must sound to Robin.

Robin huffs. "And I'm not interested in Tilly like that, it isn't like that."

With an eye roll and a heavy sigh, Regina leans slightly forward, acquiescing. "She is kind of hot, I'll give you that." She sighs, peeking towards the doorway, but she can hear Henry, Emma and Tilly having fun in the living room, so she should be in the clear. "And those princess curls."

Sounding pleased, Robin hums.

Regina leans even more forward, and Robin leans closer as well. "She's got all these tattoos on her arms," she reveals, feeling giddy. They haven't been visible all day, but Regina is dying to get a closer look at them. She's been kind of thinking a lot about them.

Robin's grin is wide. "Oh really," they drawl. "And how do we feel about that?"

Teeth digging into her lip, Regina leans back again. There is this odd bubbly feeling in the pit of her stomach, and it's not like she's an idiot. She likes Emma, finds her attractive. But does that mean that something is going on between them? Most certainly not. For one, Emma is a lot younger than her, and she's probably not even interested in a 34-year-old, single mother. Two, Regina does not think she's ready to throw her heart into anything – not after Marian and that impossible heartbreak. She's been trying to accept the fact that she'll be alone until Henry is older, so a small crush is certainly not going to change that. She can't hide her excitement though; her cheeks are warm and she grins. "We actually feel pretty good about that," she murmurs.

Laughing, Robin says, "Uh, I didn't think you'd be into that. Surprise, surprise."

"Hush you," Regina titters and takes a long gulp of her wine.

Emma pokes her head through the doorway at that, casting a glance at them. "Something smells good in here," she comments as she crosses the floor and leans herself against the back of a chair. "Can I help? Henry keeps beating me in Mario Kart, it's no fun." She pouts, and she looks like such a little child that Regina can't help the smile on her lips.

"I'll school the kid, if you don't mind finishing this up for me," Robin offers and dries their hands off in a dishtowel. They cast a hopeful glance in Emma's direction, eyelids fluttering.

"Bugger off," Emma says and hip-checks Robin, which causes the younger blonde to squeal and hurry out of the kitchen. Emma laughs and pulls off her jacket – which she's been wearing even inside, like Regina senses that she has a tendency to do – and throws it on the back of a chair. "Killian is going to pick up Tilly soon," she says as she picks up the knife and starts back up on those bell peppers.

Regina is busy eyeing the colourful patterns and pictures on Emma's arms – now seeing them up close in a way she hadn't been able to the other day at Granny's – and it takes her a moment to register that Emma has actually spoken to her. Her eyes linger for a second on an intricate pattern on Emma's upper left arm, before she manages to tear her eyes away. "That sounds fine," she replies, not quite meeting Emma's eyes. Those tattoos have not gotten less unpleasant to look at, she has to admit, and her conversation with Robin spins in her mind.

Emma is visibly trying to bite back a grin, front teeth digging into her lip, and she says, "Mhm, he's driving this way anyhow, so he figured he might as well." She swipes the knife across the board, letting the chopped bell peppers fall into the bowl with the rest of the salad. "So do you have any?"

"Huh?" Regina tears her eyes away from the bulge of Emma's bicep, raising her eyes to meet Emma's amused look. "Do I have any what?"

"Tattoos," Emma whispers and leans slightly over the table, top dipping low and disturbing Regina's concentration.

Regina takes a long drag of her wine and says, "No, I do not have any tattoos. I guess, I never," she pauses, eyes trailing down to graze over Emma's arms once more, "saw the appeal."

There is an interested sparkle in Emma's eyes as she replies. "And now?"

"They're not…" Regina swallows loudly, breathes, "…terrible."

"Hmm," Emma hums, and Regina can feel the way her eyes wander appreciatively down her body; lingering at her clavicles and the swell of her breasts, before ending at her slender fingers wrapped around the glass. "What are we drinking?"

Regina slips off the chair quickly. "It's pinot noir, I'll pour you a glass," she says and if she makes sure to give her hips an extra sway as she crosses the floor, it's purely incidental. It has nothing to do with the fact that she can feel Emma's eyes on her back. Even as she reaches into the cupboard for a glass, she feels her eyes on her, and it sends a shiver down her spine. She pours a healthy amount of wine for the other woman, and their fingers touch briefly as she hands over the glass.

Emma's voice is hoarse when she says, "Thank you."

With a hum, Regina slips onto her chair again.

"And thank you…" Emma trails off, waving her hand, "for this afternoon, really. It's been awesome learning about these things. I'm looking forward to reading those books you let me borrow."

Regina hesitates slightly, but says, "You're welcome. Perhaps we could… meet again to discuss them once you've read them?"

"I'd love that!" Emma says, just as Tilly pokes her head into the kitchen. "What's up, cutie pie?" she adds and places the glass onto the table.

"Dad's just outside," Tilly replies and hooks a thumb over her shoulder. "You gonna come say hi?"

Wiping her hands on her jeans, Emma retrieves the Tupperware container with Tilly's sandwiches before she crosses the floor and places an arm around Tilly. "Sure, let him yell at me for not doing shit," she says with a wink.

Regina can't help but watch them, fond. "It was nice to meet you, Tilly. Perhaps we'll see each other again sometime." She most certainly hopes that they will, if Robin had the guts to ask for Tilly's number.

Tilly nods. "I hope so," she softly says, and Regina doesn't miss the shy flush on her cheeks.

As Emma goes outside to talk to Killian, Regina sets the table and gets the lasagna out of the oven. The four of them eat together, Henry questioning Emma about all of her tattoos and her shows and how she makes up her jokes, and it feels good, it feels okay, kind of like something familiar that she could get used to. It's been a wonderful afternoon, far more natural and relaxed than she had thought it would be, and when Robin has gone home and Henry is in bed, she and Emma are sitting on the couch with yet another glass of wine each.

There is a wonderful buzz running through Regina's body; her limbs feel heavy, but great, and she's far more relaxed than she usually is with new people. It could be the wine, but Regina knows it's more than just that. It's Emma and the way her green eyes are focused so intensely on Regina as she talks about her college days and a lot of her ex-girlfriends.

"Since I know everything about your first love," Regina husks and slips off her high heels, toes wriggling against the couch, "Lilith Page," she adds, for good measure.

Emma grins, obviously impressed and a little bit dazed.

"...I should probably tell you about mine."

"Go on," Emma says, and her lips shimmer when she sweeps her tongue out to wet them.

Regina relaxes against the couch, face flushed. "Her name was Danielle, and we both loved horses," she explains. "We were young and in love, foolishly so."

Emma tucks her feet beneath herself, cuddled on the couch. "Why was it foolish?"

"My mother," Regina replies, fingers tightening around the stem of her wine glass. "She didn't like me being gay. And she definitely didn't like me being gay for the stable girl." The title slips off her lips, said with disdain, just like Mother used to do it. Regina remembers Danielle and their time in the stables with a fondness unlike anything else.

There is a soft look on Emma's face when she carefully says, "Oh… was she homophobic?"

It's a serious topic, but not one Regina minds talking about. It's a part of her story, and she does not talk to her mother anymore. Not after choosing to give Henry a safe and loving home. "Very much so," she whispers, tilting her head upwards to smile at Emma, "In the beginning I chose to live with it. I thought I needed her to be happy. But I haven't spoken to her since I adopted Henry. I don't need that kind of poison around my son." She sips her wine, the bitter taste coating her tongue.

"I've had my share of homophobic foster parents," Emma says and tilts slightly forward, smile tugging at the edges of her very pink lips, "I've got the scars to prove it."

"Ouch," Regina softly replies, and a silent emerges between them, pierces them to the spot as they stare at each other. The house is silent, and Regina resists the urge to reach out a finger and touch Emma's cheek. "Anyway," she says, pulling herself out of the daze and backtracking slightly, "it's never been particularly easy for me to get dates. Not even in college when I was finally away from Mother."

Emma regards her with amusement, an odd twinkle in her eyes, and it's clear that she's biting back a grin.

Regina huffs, "What?"

"You've had a hard time finding dates?"

"Mh."

"Uhm. How?" Emma questions, eyebrows knitting together.

Regina bristles, confused and a little bit drunk. "Just because! What's it to you?"

Emma laughs. "I just find it very hard to believe that you'd have a a hard time finding dates." She gulps down an enormous sip of wine at that.

"And why is that, Miss Swan?" Regina demands to know.

"Because you're very beautiful," Emma whispers, and her green eyes sweep across Regina's face softly, appreciatively, "and sexy. And also incredibly kind."

Rolling her eyes, Regina tries to sit up straighter, but her limbs are heavy, and she's suddenly feeling oh so very tired from all of that red wine. "Don't say things to flatter me, Emma," she demands, before finishing off her glass and placing it on the table.

Emma flushes. "I'm not. I'm just being honest," she softly says.

Regina looks at her, their eyes locking, and it's that weird and intense silence again, erupting between them and filling the air with intensity. "A lot of people read me as straight," she whispers instead of anything else. "Perhaps that's why I've always had trouble finding dates."

Amused, Emma says, "People read you as straight? How?" She's obviously in disbelief, and her eyes trail down Regina's arms, over her slender fingers and to her nails. "I mean, with those nails to that dress? Gay."

"You're really something else." Regina replies with exasperation. "I would like for you to kiss me, but I think it's better if you leave instead."

With a chuckle, Emma places her glass on the table and leans slightly forward, pecking Regina on the cheek. "I'd like for me to kiss you, too, but I also think it's better if I leave." She stands up from the couch and awkwardly tucks her hands into her pockets. "Stay put, okay? I'll text you."

Regina eyes her with fondness and tucks her feet onto the couch, letting herself fall further into the soft cushion. "You should have kissed me anyway, Em-ma," she whispers, and she's dozing off when she feels a blanket being pulled upon her and the distant sound of the front door closing.

A/N: HI SO I MANAGED TO UPDATE THIS WEEK, TOO. My trip to visit my family got cancelled because I was very suddenly offered a job that I started on Monday instead. I hope I will still be able to update on a weekly basis, at least once I'm more settled in my new work environment. Follow me on twitter for updates on that if you'd like, at stessafanfic. Let me know what you think?