It'd been a petty fight fueled by stress, and now they were both too stubborn to admit they'd overreacted, and both too stubborn to admit that they'd done something they weren't ready to do… that it wasn't even something they wanted to do.
They'd decided to host a New Year's Eve party–just an intimate little gathering of their friends and family, something light and fun to bring in another year. The coming year would be significant for them in a lot of ways–it meant they'd have survived a series of firsts and a series of second firsts, that they'd found their way back together after life had torn them apart and that they'd somehow managed to build themselves back up from the rubble–and that was worth celebrating. But truly, they weren't interested in a big gathering; they'd only wanted to celebrate together and though they wouldn't admit it, they resented that they couldn't do just that.
Privately, they tried to convince themselves that it wouldn't be so bad to ring in the New Year with a house full of friends and family, that it'd be enjoyable and maybe even a new tradition that they could repeat for years to come–and the more the thought about that notion, they less they wanted it and the crankier they got.
But there was nothing that they could do other than to pretend they'd have fun and that the evening wouldn't be filled with tension and the sorts of fake smiles that made their cheeks hurt.
The morning of New Year's Eve they'd both awoken with a sense of dread, and before they'd even made a pot of coffee, Mary Margaret phoned to let them know that she and David would be late–something about needing to find a new sitter–and their plans had to be altered to accommodate her.
And that's when it started.
Regina had tried to appease her, telling her that it wasn't a big deal and that they didn't mind the delay, and Mal had rolled her eyes–and then, there'd been a tone.
From there it was followed by a misunderstanding about the sorts deserts they'd be serving–and suddenly, it seemed that serving chocolate covered raspberries instead of strawberries with the champagne was the most unconscionable thing imaginable.
And by the time the coffee had finished brewing, they were in the midst of a full-fledged fight.
Henry had ducked out of the way, hiding in his room with ear buds and video games while Regina and Mal stomped around the house, slamming doors and hurling accusations they very well knew were unfounded and hurtful.
At one point, only fifteen minutes before the first of their guests was scheduled to arrive, Regina had suggested they cancel the whole thing; after all, that was what she thought Mal wanted–and it was–but Mal refused, not willing to give in, and another petty fight began.
Dinner had been tense.
Everyone could feel the anger between them, but no one said anything about it, they all just pretended it wasn't happening, that everything was fine–and that only fueled their annoyance. And then, just as dinner was ending, Henry made an ill-timed quip about being surprised that neither of them had torched the house–and somehow that sparked yet another argument in the kitchen that they pretended their guests couldn't hear.
No matter how hard they tried, they kept ending up in the other's way–and they made an extra effort to be social and accommodating which was exhausting for them both.
"It's almost midnight," Henry announces–and Regina feels her jaw tighten as she looks to the clock, watching as the seconds passed, ready for the night to be over.
"This is ridiculous," Mal sighs as she comes to stand beside her. "I don't even know why I'm mad at you."
Regina blinks. "It's because I invited all of these people over… and neither of us even like most of them."
A little laugh escapes her. "You say that, but it's not true."
Regina's eyes roll and she sighs. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…" Her voice trails off as she look up at Mal. "You shouldn't allow me to make big decisions when I've had more than a glass of wine."
Mal's brow arches. "So, it's my fault?"
"No," Regina admits in a small voice.
"I should have said something, though," Mal says as a lopsided little grin edges onto her lips and she shifts awkwardly toward Regina. "And I'm sorry, too."
They're barely aware that the countdown has begun–and Mal slides her hand up over Regina's jaw. Regina leans into her touch and draws in a breath as her hand folds lightly around Mal's wrist. Her eyes fall to Mal's lips and she feels a nearly uncontrollable urge to kiss her–and it seems the urge is mutual because just as the clock strikes midnight, Mal draws her in, pressing her lips to hers as all the anger and tension simply melts away.