The moment that Emma leans over the fumes, she stumbles back, hands flying out to the ledge desk to catch her as she blinks rapidly.

"Emma?" Regina calls, acting on instinct and bottling up whatever Emma had inadvertently created with a wave of her magic as she hurries over. She's got her head hanging now, blonde curls brushing the desk as she sways slightly, and Regina's worried. A potion gone wrong is dangerous, can be deadly — "Emma, what's wrong?"

Emma looks up as Regina places a hand over her shoulder.

Her pupils are blown wide. A lazy grin spreads over her face, and that's when Regina sees the color of the contents she's created and realizes: she's fucked.

"Hi, Regina," Emma says, brow furrowing a little as she asks, "Why are there three of you?"

…Fuck. She should've known better than to let Emma try a potion on her own.

"Damn it," She murmurs, reaching out to cup Emma's jaw so that she can hold her still enough to get a good look at her. "You're high."

Emma just giggles, and covers Regina's hand with her own. "You're holding my face," She says, leaning into the touch. 'Why are you holding my face?" Her brow knits further, and she asks conspiratorially, "Are you going to kiss me?"

Regina doesn't dignify that with a response, opting instead to transport them back to her place.

Having Emma Swan in her vault is terrifying when she's of sound mind. A stoned Emma Swan is so far past out of the question.

She directs the giggling mess of a woman through her home, leading her up towards the guest bedroom. She eyes the stairs and curses to herself that she hadn't thought to transport them directly there. She's just weighing the idea of a second transport, the benefits of not having to navigate Emma up the stairs with the risk of inducing dizziness when Emma whines, "No, I want the tv."

"Fine," Regina sighs, and steers her towards the living room by her shoulders.

She manages to get Emma to sit down on the couch, take off her jacket and boots, and then get under some blankets without much incident – Emma keeps breaking down into fits of laughter, and at one point she mimics Regina's pinched expression with a mocking one of her own.

"I don't know how the hell you managed to mess up that potion this badly, but I think you're going to be like this for a while," Regina comments, tucking the edges of the blanket under Emma's arms. It effectively swaddles her, and Regina hopes for her own sake that it will lend towards keeping Emma in one place. Emma only smiles up at her, a dopey grin on her lips that reminds Regina something of a golden retriever. "What?"

"I like your eyes," Emma says, and Regina rolls them.

"Thanks," She deadpans, and then sinks to the floor in front of the couch with her back against it. "Go to sleep," She says. "Whatever you made, it hit fast. Let's hope it wears off just as quickly."

Emma hums. "I like it."

"I'm sure you do."

Regina puts on some trash television show at Emma's request, and several minutes pass in silence. That is, until the main character picks up her child from daycare, and Regina hears from behind her:

"We'd make a cute kid."

Regina glances up, startled, turning to look at Emma. She's regarding her with a grin, still pinned underneath her blankets, and Regina replies, "You're high."

"Duh," Emma says. "And you're pretty."

Regina fights back the juvenile urge to reply with a duh of her own. Shaking her head, she returns her attention to the television.

"If we had a kid they'd have my dimples," Emma decides, and Regina sighs. "I think they'd have your eyes, because they're so pretty. And your hair." Regina hears some rustling and then feels fingers threading through her hair, shockingly gentle considering Emma's disoriented state. "I think, anyway," Emma continues. "I don't remember much from science class, but I think dark hair is dominant."

Regina can't help the small smile that's creeping over her lips. She's thankful that in their current position Emma can't see it. "Yes, well. I regret to inform you that medical science hasn't quite caught up to this fantasy of yours, dear. We can't have a baby." She pauses for a heartbeat, and then adds, "At least not biologically."

Emma pouts audibly. "We could have a magic baby."

Regina laughs. She can't help it. It's a soft thing, gentle, and she hears Emma give an indignant little hey from behind her, just as quiet. There's more shifting, and the touching of her hair stops as the blanket falls around her shoulders instead. Emma plops down on the floor beside her ungracefully, and Regina reaches out to steady her. "You want to have a magic baby?" Regina echoes when Emma settles, deciding there's no harm in entertaining her, considering she doesn't seem like she's going to drop the topic.

Emma shrugs, beams at her, and then asks, "Is that possible?"

Regina considers. "Well," She says eventually, deciding on telling the truth, "It's rare. But not unheard of back home."

"Huh," Emma says, and then stretches out, leaning back against the couch. "That's cool. So we could have a magic kid."

Regina purses her lips. "Emma, why are you so fixated on this?"

Emma takes one look at her face and then bursts into another laughing fit. "I don't even know if I want another kid, Regina. So relax," She commands, amusingly authoritative. "I'm just saying. I'm cute. You're cute. We'd have a cute kid."

Regina shakes her head, trying to tame the beating of her heart. She shouldn't be taking this seriously, anyway – Emma's stoned. Blitzed. High out of her damn mind, in outer space, and it's not like they're even together, anyway.

The fact that having a kid with Emma doesn't sound so bad is irrelevant.

"You're in luck," She says instead of voicing any of those thoughts, because again, Emma is high. "As it happens, we already have a pretty cute kid."

Emma hums at that. "We do, don't we?"

"Mm," Regina replies, and removes the blanket from where it had bunched up behind her shoulders when Emma clambered down. She contemplates sending Emma back to her previous position – or pulling her up there with her – but Emma seems happy on the floor, with her legs stuck straight out in front of her and her hands limp in her lap. She looks ridiculous, but then again, she's tripping, so.

Regina spreads the blanket over the both of them, earning her a brilliant smile. When Emma leans into her, rests her head on her shoulder, Regina doesn't object.

She thinks that's the end of the conversation. Emma watches the show intently for a while, dutifully following the plotline, while Regina watches Emma, instead.

"He's got your attitude, you know," Emma pipes up eventually.

"What?"

"Henry," She clarifies, and Regina snorts. "He does," Emma insists. "He does that thing you do with your face, like, identically. It's creepy."

"That thing I do with my face?" Regina echoes. Emma might be high, but – "I'm afraid I'm going to need a little more clarification on that one, Emma."

"That thing with your eyebrow," She says, and Regina raises one. Emma's face lights up as she points at Regina and says, "Yeah, that! Exactly! He does that! The twisty thing with your mouth, too, when you're annoyed."

"I think that's called a scowl," Regina says with a laugh. Emma pouts again, and Reigna shakes her head. She rests her hand on Emma's knee under the blanket, and Emma's eyes go wide – Regina almost pulls it back, but something makes her decide against it. "You need to get some rest, Emma. You should sleep this off."

Emma eyes the blanket. She's staring down where her knee would be, if she could see through the fabric – with the way her eyes are practically boring a hole through it, Regina wonders if she maybe believes that she can, in her intoxicated state of mind.

"Don't you enjoy my company?' She asks eventually. That million-watt smile is gone now, replaced with a look that's halfway pensive. She's frowning, brow furrowed, and god, Regina's a fucking sucker for this woman.

She might as well acknowledge that.

Ugh.

Regina squeezes her knee, and Emma's eyes dart back down for half a second before they return to Regina's. "Of course I enjoy your company, Emma." The words are soft, and they're truthful. As much as she pretends to only tolerate Emma, as much as she loves to tease her with snippy comments – they've become something of friends, and Regina's come to depend on the other woman's infuriating – comforting – presence each day. She passes her thumb over the fabric of Emma's jeans. "I care about your wellbeing more."

Emma stares at her for several seconds.

Regina kind of wishes that she'd managed a mind-reading potion, instead. Maybe a truth serum. What she wouldn't give to know what thoughts were racing through Emma's skull at this moment –

"Okay," Emma concedes eventually, and the ghost of a smile appears at her lips.

"Okay," Regina echoes. She gives a little nod, then, and inclines her head back to the sofa. "You want to get back up there, then? Or do you want the guest bed?"

Emma frowns. After several heartbeats, she answers, "Bed." Regina nods, and gives Emma's knee one last pat before she stands, and extends a hand to help Emma up after her. Emma sways a moment, and then looks down at her outfit. "Pajamas, too," She adds, wrinkling her nose as she plucks at her skin-tight jeans. "These feel bad."

Regina laughs, hovering a hand over Emma's upper arm as she turns her towards the kitchen. "We can get you something. First, water."

Regina makes her down two full glasses before she's satisfied. Emma guzzles it, a little dripping down her chin, and Regina hands her a napkin without so much as a roll of her eyes, which perhaps feels like more of an accomplishment than it should.

And, okay, maybe Henry really did get his attitude from her.

Somehow they make it up the stairs without any falls. Regina decides to take that as her win for the day, and navigates Emma to the guest bedroom, where she uses one last bout of her magic to change Emma into a pair of her own sweatpants.

Like hell is she about to wrestle with her to actually change in this state.

Emma's jaw drops as she looks down, staring at the purple haze with wonder, like she hasn't seen magic a million times by now.

Eventually she gets her into the bed, and tucks the covers up around her. Emma reaches for her, though, catches her by the hand, and says, "Stay for a moment?"

And so Regina does.

She nods, and sits at the edge of the bed. At first, Emma only stares at her.

Abruptly, she sits up on her elbows and then props herself up on her hands, effectively closing the distance between them. Regina's heart jumps to her throat.

"Regina," She begins, words barely a whisper. "Were you going to kiss me? In the vault?"

Regina blinks. "No, Emma. I was just making sure you were okay." Emma nods in response, but she doesn't move, and Regina swallows. "Was that all you wanted to ask me?"

Emma shakes her head. It takes her several moments, but eventually she says, "I want to kiss you now."

Oh.

Regina feels her heart rate skyrocket. That's…unexpected.

"Can I?" Emma asks. She's leaned a hair closer, and Regina puts a hand at her shoulder to stop her.

"Emma – no."

Emma's face falls immediately. She looks a little bit hurt, and Regina's heart gives a painful squeeze, because that's the last thing that she'd wanted, but – "Oh," Emma says. Her eyes drop to the bed. "Okay."

Regina gives her a small smile, and brings her hand up to cup Emma's cheek instead, and she meets her eyes again, a little bit hopeful. "You're high," Regina says, and Emma shrugs.

"So?"

"So," Regina says, "Ask me when you're sober, okay?"

Emma lights up at that. "Okay." She gives her a grin, a lopsided, dopey grin much like the one she'd been offered earlier, and Regina can't help but smile back. She tries her best to school the amusement from her expression, lest Emma think she's making fun of her.

She shakes her head, and presses a quick kiss to Emma's cheek instead. Emma beams at her. Regina indicates the pillow and Emma falls back against it obediently, blonde curls flying everywhere.
Regina laughs, and stands up. "Now go to sleep," She commands.

Emma hums. Regina heads to the door. She's just put her hand on the knob when Emma calls softly, "Regina?"

"Yes?"

"I won't forget."

Regina smiles, more to herself than Emma. "I'll see to it you don't, dear. Now get some rest."

With that she flicks the light off, and shuts the door behind her.