A/N - Literally, this entire chapter is SQ fluff, because A) I thought it was slightly overdue, and B) I couldn't help it. So, I hope you enjoy! I know I said the pace would pick up after the last update, and it will, but this just had to happen. Clarification: whatever is typed in italics is a memory. Also, I've got a computer now, so more updates to come! As always, reviews are welcome and appreciated :-)
"Gina? Can I come in?" Emma asked softly with a tap on the bedroom door. After Henry had refused to say goodnight to his parents, and after she'd cleaned up the kitchen, Emma felt rather lost in their enormous home. Lost and quite lonely. She'd given Henry somewhat of an earful when they got back, which she didn't regret, but it was still a hard pill to swallow. She was usually the easy-going mom, the one who let things slide. It was a rare event to have her put her foot down. And, to make matters even more complicated, she and Regina had gotten to close to turning a new page. She finally had a shot, a chance to make things better, and what did she do? She chickened out! But not now, not anymore. With her son avoiding her and a small amount of adrenaline still pumping, Emma made the decision to march up the staircase and plant herself in front of— what used to be— their room.
Regina had been sitting with her legs stretched out in front of her, the overhead light dimmed slightly, her reading classes on the crook of her nose, and a book open to the third chapter on her lap. "Everything you need to know about the second trimester" was written in italicized letters in the middle of the page, as if being printed in bold wasn't enough. A manual she found in her bag later that evening— no doubt a loan from Snow— it caught her curiosity. She'd been so consumed by the information, she jumped when Emma's voice traveled through the barrier. In a moment of panic, she slammed the book closed and tucked it under the blankets. Fixing her hair and clearing her throat, Regina set her glasses on the wooden night stand; her satin pajamas were beginning to get tight around her waist, which made them awkward to move around in. "Yes," she welcomed in an even tone.
As the door slowly swung open, the figure on the other side gradually became visible. From a shadow to a three-dimensional form, Emma revealed herself to the woman. Still in her day clothes, there was a yellow stain on her shirt from the macaroni and cheese she made for dinner. She stood with her feet shoulder-width apart and her back straightened as if she were a soldier preparing for battle. Then again, it wasn't that far off from the truth. Emma lingered under the frame briefly, waiting for permission to enter. "Um, can I—"
"Oh, right. Please, have a seat," Regina motioned to the empty chair in the corner. Mentally rebuking herself for her own robotic mannerisms, she exhaled heavily and commanded herself to calm down, because that worked so well in the past… Her eyes followed Emma's anxious posture as the blonde flopped down on the four-legged piece of furniture. The structure creaked sadly when it felt the weight, as if it were telling Emma to sit on the bed instead, next to Regina.
Flexing her fingers, much like the Queen had after setting the trash on fire, Emma fought to gain complete control over her emotions. It was as though there was a tiny voice inside of her head, begging her not to do it. But she had to. She couldn't go on another day the way they had been; she had to say it. "Gina, I'm sorry," she breathed. "I know I've said it before, but it's true. I'm sorry for a lot of things: for hovering over you, for not taking you seriously when you said you were concerned, for not believing you about the baby, for trying to shelter you from everything else. But, what I'm most sorry about, is that I let this go on for as long as it has." Cracking her knuckles the way she always did when she was nervous, Emma's knee started bouncing up and down compulsively. "I said a lot of things to you in the past few weeks, some really shitty things. I didn't mean any of them. I would give anything to take them back, I swear. I was angry with my mom and… I guess I took it out on you and the kid. It's my fault Henry ran away today and it's my fault that he found out the way he did. If I hadn't been so—"
"Stop," Regina held her hand up before Emma could finish. For as long as they'd been fighting, one would think the brunette would have appreciated the apology more than she was. She should have been grateful that Emma was making an effort to right the wrongs, that she was trying to be the bigger person. When, in fact, Regina only felt worse. The remorse in Emma's voice was killing her; it was clear that the Savior was blaming herself for more than her fair share. She may have been the Evil Queen in the past, but Regina couldn't sit through the self-loathing emanating from Emma; it was like watching a puppy who'd been kicked try and catch its balance. "You're not entirely at fault," she began, "it does, as they say, take two to tango." Folding her legs pretzel-style, something she was sure her mother would have detested, Regina offered the empty seat beside her. She noted Emma's hesitation, but dismissed it quickly. "Please." The blonde rose from the chair, only to approach the bed with great caution. She wasn't afraid of Regina; she just hadn't expected the gesture. When the two women were next to one another, it almost felt normal again. "Neither one of us has exactly been ourselves recently." I haven't been feeling myself either, she thought. "We both exchanged some words that never should have been exchanged. I played my own part in this… fiasco."
It'd been a while since Emma and Regina were so close to each other, physically and emotionally. Emma missed sleeping in their bed together; she missed sleeping with Regina in her arms. Most importantly, she missed talking to Regina like this: no yelling, no red faces. It was calm. It was civil. It was right. "You were only reacting to stuff I did, Gina," Emma waved off. "I started this thing that night you told me."
"Yes, well, that was an unfortunate turn of events. But you've since shown that you believe me." Smiling ever-so-slightly at her bump, Regina dropped a hand over it and held the baby, as if to keep it safe. In truth, she only felt that it was truly safe with both herself there and Emma. "You know, earlier when it moved, I… I think it knew your name."
"Really?" Emma wowed, flattered at the sentiment. "Me?"
Regina nodded, now beaming at the memory. "Every time I said 'Emma,' it did a backflip." She pressed her palm gently against her bulge, as if to test for another kick. But, it appeared that the baby was asleep. It was as still as a rock, and as hard as one too. "I was doing some calculations a couple of weeks ago; it would seem that this little one was—"
"Conceived on our first night together," the blonde completed the discovery. "I did my own math," she added sheepishly. Unable to tear her gaze away from Regina's midsection, Emma crawled closer to the brunette purposefully. "Can I…?"
"What? Oh, yes, of course," Regina consented. She prepared herself for the electric shock that would spread through her body the moment Emma made contact— it always happened. Lo and behold, as soon as Emma cupped her stomach, Regina shivered uncontrollably. From the base of her neck, down her spine, and to her toes, it was a feeling she never got tired of. Regardless of what was going on in their lives, it was the reminder that what they had was real. And just like that, the baby made sure its mothers knew about its presence: just like it had before, it pushed a foot out into Emma's hand, causing her gasp reactively. "Well, I suppose she's awake after all," Regina mused.
Grinning wider than anyone would have thought possible, Emma was filled with nothing but joy. "I guess she is." This time, when she looked up at Regina, with their baby in-between them, she shoved aside her pride and made her move. Faster than the speed of sound, Emma inclined forward and kissed Regina with an intensity they both thought had long disappeared from their lives. Their eyes closed, the women surrendered to the moment. Emma pressed harder against Regina's lips, and Regina wrapped her arms around Emma's neck, both of them wanting to be closer. But then, when Emma reached to un-do Regina's night clothes, she pulled away. Panting heavily, she had difficulty slowing down her heart rate. "Gina," Emma hummed, "we don't have to do this. Not if you're not ready. We can wait."
Wincing slightly as those all-too-familiar words, Regina managed to recompose herself— as well as she could, considering. Leaning against the pillows, she readjusted her pajamas so that they laid loosely over her stomach, which wasn't easy. "I'm not ready," she confessed, much to her own self-disappointment.
Afraid to see Emma's reaction, Regina looked everywhere but at the blonde. The sheets rustled under her as she shifted and scooted away from the visibly shaken woman. She didn't want to do anything that would frighten Regina any more than she apparently had been. "I'm sorry," she uttered. "I, uh, I should go."
Emma quickly staggered into a standing position, ready to dart through the door, but stopped when she felt someone tug at her wrist. "No, don't," Regina pleaded. "You don't have to."
"But, you just—"
"I'm not ready for that, Emma. But… your company would be greatly appreciated." Deliberate with her request, Regina clung to the Savior; it wasn't a desperate-type of grasp, but one that conveyed the longing inside of her— it had been there for weeks, but only now was it breaking through the facade she'd built. "Please," she said again.
Bending her knees, Emma found herself back on top of the mattress, facing Regina. She could see the desire in her features, how much she truly wanted Emma with here. It was the first time she felt needed— not just when Henry was hungry or when Regina couldn't do something, but really needed. Emma wasn't just a fixture anymore, she was a partner again: an equal. That was all she wanted. "Ok," she complied, unable to mask her own relief.
Regina slid underneath the blankets, while Emma kicked her shoes off before doing the same. The blonde never bothered to change into her nightwear; she was perfectly happy just the way she was. Without pressuring her, Emma remained still as Regina nestled herself into her lover's arms. This time, when she felt the spark, Regina didn't flinch or cringe away. She accepted it as a sign that she was where she was meant to be; always and forever. No matter what happened, this is where she wanted to end up. Before falling away into a deep sleep, Regina cozied into Emma and sighed a quiet, "Thank you."
"Gina, we don't have to do this… not if you're not ready. We can wait." Emma and Regina were nose-to-nose, nearly one person. The warmth of their bodies transferred from one to the other so quickly, they never felt cold. Their skin-to-skin contact caused goosebumps to raise on their arms, but they had never been more at peace. It was their sixth date in several weeks and things had been progressing somewhat slowly, though Emma was perfectly content with taking Regina out for dinner and getting a kiss when they parted ways. This night, however, she'd been pleasantly surprised. They both had.
The front of her shirt unbuttoned, Regina had been completely immersed in the task at hand. She melted into Emma's hold and quivered under the kisses the blonde showered her with. Her head tossed back, the brunette had her eyes closed and her mind wide open. It was when Emma grabbed her thigh that she tensed up unexpectedly. As if she'd just been shaken awake, her eyes snapped open and she found herself out of breath. Everything came back into focus and she was rapidly becoming overwhelmed with a multitude of conflictions.
She shimmied out of Emma's passionate clutches and pulled her blouse closed, gripping the threads tight enough that the seams ripped. Stumbling backwards, she tripped and landed bum-first on her bed, beyond humiliated. The lights had been turned off, but Emma's silhouette was as clear as day, especially once she came closer to Regina. "I'm sorry," the Queen exhaled, ashamed by the scene she'd just created. It wasn't like her to lose her cool; she was normally so self-assured.
"Don't be," Emma said, her own shirt already missing; it was somewhere on the floor. Regina had clawed it off when they arrived in her room, but just barely. All Emma had on were her bra and slacks. "I should have asked if—"
"No, it's… it's not you," Regina said promptly, guilty that Emma would think for a moment this was her fault. No, this problem was bigger than the Savior. Crossing her legs nervously, Regina chewed on her lower lip in concentration. It was a nasty habit she'd picked up from her girlfriend, one she wasn't proud of. "I… it seems that I over estimated my abilities."
Emma was careful not to make any sudden movements. Whatever the woman was experiencing, it had to be haven triggered by something they'd done. It couldn't have just happened for no reason."What do you mean?" she probed warily.
Wishing she could hide beneath a rock or teleport to her mother's crypt, Regina's remorse only worsened at the understanding in Emma's voice. They'd been together for some time now, but it never ceased to amaze her how patient the sheriff could be. After all that they'd been through, she saw it as a miracle that Emma hadn't run for the hills, screaming her head off. Regina didn't think she deserved to be so happy."It's nothing," she replied sourly. "It's silly."
"Not if it's bothering you this much," Emma countered. Although she could barely make out Regina's form, she made an estimate of where the mayor's eyes were and locked onto them with her own. Having stared at the woman countless times before, Emma pictured those mysterious chestnut orbs and what was inside of them: anxiety? Possibly. Uncertainty? Sure. Love? Absolutely. In their short time as a couple, Emma was already positive about one thing: she loved Regina. And Regina loved her.
Always the first to sense fear, Regina's own secret power was on overload. It was Emma. It was Emma's fear that she was feeling, next to her own. That was something she wasn't accustomed to. The blonde was typically the solid one in moments of strife, the brave one. Not that Regina was weak, but Emma seemed to have a better grasp on emergency situations lately. She'd changed a lot since they'd first met, more so than others gave her credit for. No longer the skeptic, Emma had learned how to believe. With that faith came a type of empathy that others seemed to lack. It's what made it so easy for Regina to talk to her… sometimes."It's- it's been years since I've done this, Emma," she stuttered. "Had a connection with someone this strong, that is. I don't… I don't want to ruin what we have— what I mean is, I don't think I can—"
"I got it," Emma whispered. She let Regina's admission sink— really sink in— before saying anything else. She knew it hadn't been easy for the woman to open up like that, to be so transparent. Although they were still working on their communication skills, it was no secret that Regina was known for her expression of emotions, or lack thereof. That's why Emma found it so hard to stay quiet. She didn't want to speak just to fill up the space or to express pity towards the brunette. She wanted to say something meaningful, something comforting. After all, isn't that what girlfriends were for? "Gina, I would never want you to do something you don't want to do," she said firmly. "If you need more time, then take all that you need. I'll be here."
Fighting the tears that wanted to escape, Regina glanced down at her exposed self. It had been years since she'd ever felt truly free with someone. Not since her relationship with Daniel had she ever trusted anyone so completely with everything that she was. She had given herself to Emma without hesitation, without any doubt in her mind that she was making a mistake. When she felt the blonde's lips against her own, it was as if everything else dissolved into nothingness, and it was just her and Emma. Now that she'd stopped it, that was all Regina wanted.
Letting go of her shirt and setting both feet flat on the floor, she reached out for the daughter of her once-enemy, instinctively knowing where she was. She drew her closer until the gap that divided them had been destroyed, until she could feel Emma's heart beat again; it was if it was connected to her own. The faster Emma's heart pounded, the faster Regina's did. Eventually, they were close enough that she could truly see Emma's emerald spheres and got lost in them once more. Creeping forward so that they were a hairsbreadth away, Regina slid her other arm around Emma's waist. Emma, however, was a bit apprehensive. "Please," Regina murmured.
Holding back out of confusion, the Savior frowned at the Queen. "Gina, you just said—"
"I know," Her Majesty nodded. "It was a mistake. It was a flicker of indecisiveness and now it's over. I assure you… Emma?"
Waiting for another revelation that potentially put an end to their evening, one that never came, Emma placed all of her trust into Regina's judgement. Without waiting a second more, she let her body crash into the brunette's. Their lips locked intensely as their limbs became intertwined, untangle-able by even the most successful untangler. Emma pushed Regina onto her back and climbed over her, never breaking away from their kiss. Lost in each other's magnificence, their night was filled with more magic than either of them could ever have imagined.
Regina and Emma drifted off to dreamland side-by-side for the first time in 29 days. With the brunette hugged close to her, the blonde's chin rested against her back. Their bodies laying next to one another, the women were stuck together like glue. Emma's hand sat over Regina's abdomen, as if she were protecting both her and their baby; meanwhile, Regina's fingers were interwoven with Emma's, almost as though she were making sure they wouldn't get separated again. It'd been too long since they shared a bed together, so as soon as they got under the sheets, they wasted no time in making the most of it. Emma and Regina held onto each other with a ferocity that had been lacking recently, but would remain for as long as they could make it. That night, the Queen and the Savior fell asleep to the best pleasure life had to offer: they fell asleep to their baby dancing beneath their touch.