Chapter four
"Regina," Emma huffed into a voicemail message. She was standing on a curb, shivering slightly in the drizzly rain, wishing she'd had the foresight to go home after work instead of hanging around expecting Regina to remember she existed. "I know your head is somewhere else right now, but you told me you'd pick me up at seven for this party. It's 7:30. Call me."
The final instruction was pointless, because she knew she wouldn't.
Sure enough, 10 minutes later, Sidney's car rolled around the corner. When Emma opened the back door and found every other seat empty, she sighed. "Where is she?"
Sidney was already looking apologetic. "I don't know. I'm sorry. She just called me and told me to come and get you."
Emma clambered in and slammed the door shut. "Right."
"Do you have the address of the party?"
"Just take me home," Emma said, "Please."
Sidney nodded like he always did, then they quietly drove across town with Emma stewing in the back.
She whipped out her phone, hoping she'd find a text from Regina waiting for her but instead only finding one from Elsa. What do you think of these dresses? I know you vetoed the lemon ones but maybe this is a compromise.
She tapped on a photo of four sherbet orange dresses and shuddered.
They'll clash with Anna's hair.
When Elsa replied a split second later, Emma breathed a sigh of relief. Shit. You're right. Back to the drawing board.
Tossing her cell into her purse, Emma leaned her head back and groaned. Ever since their confrontation with Gold three weeks earlier, she'd been filled with a sense of sick uneasiness – not because of his threats, nor because she knew Neal was still lurking around trying to get her attention, but because yet again Regina's mind had drifted off someplace where she wasn't invited. She was a woman on a mission, unwilling to be disturbed and suddenly incapable of picking up her phone, and although Emma was trying not to let it bug her, she couldn't help but feel the same shrinking anxiety in her stomach as she had done two years ago.
Back then, Regina had been silent because she was single-handedly talking every bank on the eastern seaboard out of sending Emma to jail – now it was because she was determined to send Gold and Neal there instead. Emma knew that and she was trying to be patient, but when she kept getting left on the sidewalk like a stray dog, she couldn't help but feel a little bit abandoned.
She pulled her phone out again and typed, Thanks for sending Sidney. I'm going home. Come round later if you need to vent.
She went to bed alone. Regina never showed.
Emma was genuinely surprised when Regina asked her round for dinner a week later. She half expected to arrive at her apartment and find another ominous envelope lying on the counter, but instead the front door opened and there was Regina, looking tired and harried and possibly slightly hungover.
"Emma," she sighed with relief when she opened the front door. She yanked Emma into a hug before she could even say hi. "I've missed you."
Blinking, Emma asked, "You have?"
"Immeasurably. How has your week been?"
"It's been… fine. Quiet." Emma tentatively walked into the apartment and removed her shoes. "Yours?
"A nightmare from start to finish. You know who's extremely good at covering their tracks?" Regina asked, gesturing for Emma to follow her into the kitchen. "People with something to hide."
"You mean Gold?"
"Of course I mean Gold. He's got a collection of lawyers larger than a football team and it's making it very difficult for me to go digging for dirt."
Emma blinked. She wasn't expecting Regina to be quite so forthcoming after her month-long silence.
"Have you had any luck at all?"
"A little, here and there." Regina poured Emma a glass of wine and slid it across the counter toward her. "I thought it would be easier, to be honest."
"Do you need any help?"
Regina smiled. "I just need you here."
It was a sweet thing to say, but it was slightly ruined by the fact that Regina's phone buzzed a half second later, and she immediately grabbed it. Emma waited silently until she felt like it was safe to speak again.
"I still want to help," she said slowly. "I'm not really sure what's going on, and it makes me nervous when—"
"Don't be nervous," Regina interrupted, her eyes still on her phone. "Tell me about work."
"Work?"
"Yes. You had those… projects..."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Two books went to print last week."
"Oh?" Regina asked, clearly not paying attention. A second later, she realised what Emma had said. She finally looked up. "Wait. They've printed?"
"Yep."
"Why didn't you tell me? I didn't even know they were near completion."
Talking slowly, like she was speaking to someone with severe brain damage, Emma pointed out, "Because you actually need to pick up your phone in order to have a conversation with me about that."
Regina looked mildly ashamed of herself until her phone started ringing again. At the exact same time, the water on the stove started boiling over.
"Shit," she snapped, rushing over to turn it down. When Emma noticed that her shirt was untucked and there was even a smudge of what might be ink down the sleeve, she took pity on her.
"I'll get it," she said, steering her out of the way. "You deal with your crisis."
Regina sighed with gratitude before doing exactly that. Emma recognised the ingredients that were strewn across the counter and without asking, she began prepping dinner in Regina's place.
She tried not to take it too personally when Regina was on the phone for the next 20 minutes, even though she had barely replied to one of Emma's texts all weeks. She's doing it for you, she reminded herself as she stirred puttanesca sauce. Stop being a baby.
But then her own phone buzzed and she found herself staring down at a picture of a faded lavender bridesmaid's dress. She groaned and went back to the sauce.
When they sat down at the table, it took Regina a few minutes to even pick up her fork. Her phone was still in her hand and her lips were moving as she read her emails to herself. Emma slumped down and picked at her own spaghetti. Regina eventually placed her phone to one side and cleared her throat, looking up with a smile. Emma's heart lifted, and she opened her mouth to say something.
Then there was a buzz of plastic against wood, and Regina was snatching her phone up once more.
"Regina," Emma snapped. "Just how hard would you kick my ass if I was sitting here texting at the dinner table?"
Regina dropped her phone with a clatter. "What?"
"I haven't seen you in weeks. Can you be present just for one meal?"
"I'm not being present?"
"No. Look, I know you're busy and I know you're doing all this for my benefit, but I'd still like to be able to talk to my girlfriend after a crappy day. I miss you, you know."
It broke her heart a bit that Regina looked confused. "You do?"
"Of course I do. I get that you're trying to do something big and amazing and noble but… selfishly, I wish you'd just text me good morning instead."
Regina's face fell. "Oh. I'm sorry. You know what I get like."
"I know. And really, I do appreciate everything you're doing. But…"
She didn't need to finish that sentence, because Regina was firmly pushing her phone away. "I get it. I'm here – I promise. Will you tell me about your week?"
Just like that, Emma felt herself perk up. She straightened her back. "Well – Elsa can't decide on a colour for her bridesmaids' dresses so she's running through the entire pastel spectrum at the moment."
Regina winced. "Pastel?"
"I talked her out of pink, yellow and orange, but for some reason she's set on making me look like frozen yoghurt as I walk down the aisle."
The phone that was sitting in the middle of the table buzzed against the wood, making her jump. Regina automatically glanced at it, but didn't pick it up.
"Is there a theme?"
"She was considering winter wonderland, because they're getting married in January."
"Maybe she'll land on icy blue, then," Regina suggested, her eyes darting back to her phone as it buzzed again. "That's slightly less offensive."
"Maybe. She was looking at purple earlier, so I guess blue is next on the list."
Buzz. Buzz. "Does August get a say in any of this?"
"I doubt it somehow."
"Mm." Regina's gaze flickered again. "You'd look beautiful in a nice oyster colour."
Emma smiled, but it felt strained. She could feel Regina's attention wavering. "I don't think Elsa is planning her wedding around me, though."
"Maybe not." The phone buzzed again, twitching like a pulsing vein, and Emma felt her jaw harden. When Regina's gaze lingered on it, she sighed.
"Just get it."
"What?"
"Your phone. You won't be able to concentrate until you pick it up."
Regina looked back at her, trying to gauge whether it was a trick. Emma knew there was annoyance and impatience written all over her face, but it either went unnoticed or was deemed not important enough compared with a furiously ringing phone.
When Regina grabbed it and picked it up, Emma lost her appetite entirely. After a few minutes of sitting and staring into space, she pulled her own phone out of her pocket and looked at the latest photo Elsa had sent her.
Sudden rage swelled inside her. Elsa was blazing through her wedding planning like she was playing a game of bingo, and instead of being excited by it, Emma felt sticky with jealousy. Her toes were curling under the table.
She looked up again: Regina's call had ended, but she was frantically typing out an email with her forehead furrowed. Emma coughed loudly, but she didn't even blink.
Elsa suddenly texted again: I showed August some wedding dress options today and he said I'll look like a snow queen :)
Just like that, Emma was certain she was about to puke fire. She slammed her phone down and demanded, "Do you even want to marry me?"
She was expecting Regina to look up right away. Part of her was hoping they'd collapse into a huge fight – that, at least, was better than being ignored. But Regina kept typing, her lips slightly parted like she knew she was supposed to be saying something but her brain failing to come up with anything. Emma folded her arms and waited, her temples throbbing, until she finally glanced up.
"Hm?" she asked, even then her gaze flicking back down to her phone. "Sorry – what did you say?"
All at once, Emma deflated. Her rage left her as quickly as it had come.
"Never mind," she muttered, picking up her fork. "It doesn't matter."
Emma resigned herself to spending most of her nights alone. Elsa was attending so many wedding fairs and cake-tasting events that she rarely had time to hang out, and Emma was tired of listening to Regina's answering machine. She settled down in her own apartment with the cooking channels and cups of peppermint tea, bitterly noting that being lonely and depressed was nowhere near as fun when she didn't keep whisky in the house anymore. But then she thought back to those nights a couple of years ago – the ones where she woke up still in her jeans and with the taste of a stranger's kiss in her mouth – and she realised that this was still better. Regina loved her – she did. She was just bad at juggling work and her actual life, and Emma had to accept that sometimes she would still find herself coming second.
She snuggled down under her blanket and waited for the Food Network to teach her how to roast a turkey without drying it out. If Regina could get her head out of her ass by November, maybe she could dazzle her with it at Thanksgiving.
Then her phone rang. She grabbed it, hoping to see Regina's name, but instead it was a number she didn't know.
Fuck, her brain immediately sirened. You owe money again. How did that happen? You've been so careful and your credit rate is slowly climbing and—
She took a deep breath and shook her head. She knew she was okay – she kept a close eye on her spending and even had a savings account like a real adult. But it was hard to shake off all those years of dodging calls and getting panicked whenever the doorbell rang in case it was a debt collector coming to take all her possessions away. Nowadays, she could go into stores and not worry that her credit card – singular, because she finally knew that having more than one was a recipe for disaster – was about to be declined, and she could even treat herself to new clothes or books or gadgets most of the time. With Regina standing beside her, happy to buy her expensive things and resolutely ignoring Emma's protests whenever she went overboard, it was easy to survive. She was lucky, but she still had to remind herself of that as she struggled to calm her breathing. In spite of what was happening at the moment, the good times overwhelming outweighed the bad.
A few weeks earlier, Regina had been forced to go and deal with an emergency at her gallery while Henry was staying over. Emma had agreed to watch him while she was out. They stayed up late together, mostly making and then eating cookies and struggling to find somewhere to hide the leftovers so Regina wouldn't find them.
"How about the cleaning cupboard?" Henry had giggled, chocolate smeared all around his mouth. Emma grabbed him and wiped it clean with her sleeve.
"I'm not giving you cookies with a side of bleach tomorrow, moron. Besides, she'd find them immediately."
"Have you ever seen Mom clean?"
Emma thought about it. "No, actually."
"She has a cleaner who comes three times a week, plus she doesn't let anything get dirty in the first place so the Lysol is never needed. It's the safest place in the house."
Emma had rolled her eyes and sent him off to bed, promising herself she'd find a better place than that. In the end, she'd settled down on Regina's ridiculously comfy sofa and fallen asleep before she'd even managed to open a cabinet.
She woke up a few hours later to the smell of her favourite perfume and a gentle kiss against her forehead. When she cracked open one eye, Regina was bending over her, looking tired and windswept but happy to see her.
"Hey," Emma muttered, rubbing her eyes and then remembering she was still wearing make-up. "What time is it?"
"Just gone two."
"You're only getting home now?"
"The new contractor we hired to hang the paintings used some kind of ridiculous eco-nails that disintegrated as soon as gravity hit them. I had to work out how to repair and reframe six different paintings before the exhibition tomorrow."
Emma smiled. "You managed it, though."
"Of course I did," Regina said. "Come on. Let's go to bed."
With a groan, Emma forced herself upright. It took her a moment to focus her bleary eyes. When she did, she noticed something lying on the armchair behind Regina. "What's that?"
Regina didn't even turn her head. "Bedtime."
"Don't be secretive."
"Don't try and distract me from the half-eaten plate of cookies lying right in front of you."
Emma snorted and peered round Regina's body. The package on the chair was in a clothes bag and had a hanger sticking out of the top. "You managed to fit in a shopping trip in the middle of the night?"
"Don't be an idiot. I bought this a few days ago but only just remembered to bring it home."
"Is it for you to wear tomorrow?"
Regina paused, looking slightly embarrassed. "No. It's for you."
"Regina," Emma sighed. "I've told you to stop buying me things. I have my own salary for this now."
"I know, but I saw it in Bergdorf Goodman and knew it would look perfect on you. It's Prada."
That meant it was also exorbitantly expensive. Emma shook her head. "You should take it back."
"I will not. You haven't even seen it yet."
"Then show me."
"No. It's bedtime."
"Regina, I'm going to kick your ass if you don't unzip the goddamn bag."
Regina laughed at the threat. "Fine. One second."
She fiddled with the zipper for a while before producing a suit that was white and glossy and made Emma's eyes water.
"I thought you could wear it with that black shirt you got the other week in Max Mara. It would look so beautiful."
Emma lifted her gaze to find Regina looking half hopeful and half bashful, and she couldn't stop herself from wrapping her up in a hug. "It's amazing. But please stop buying me things."
"No," Regina said simply, kissing her cheek. "You can try it on tomorrow. Unless all those cookies mean it won't fit anymore, and then you'll be in big trouble."
As they walked up the stairs together, Regina asked, "Did Henry throw up from eating too much again?"
"Not this time," Emma said cheerfully. She squeezed Regina's hand. "I'll try harder in the future."
The ringing of her phone rattled through the peaceful, perfect memory, and Emma sighed, realising she was still in her own apartment and still alone. She knew that those were the moments she needed to focus on – the ones that reminded her just how lucky she really was. Sure, Regina was busy and distracted and super annoying sometimes, but she was also kind and thoughtful and the only person in the world who could make Emma's heart feel warm like that.
She shook her head and reached out for her phone.
"Hello?"
A man's voice came back at her. "Swan."
Emma blinked. "Um. Yes?"
There was some rustling followed by a throaty cough. "How are you doing?"
"Sorry, who is this?"
For a second, there was silence. Then she heard a chuckle that she'd never be able to erase from her sticky brain.
"Don't tease me, Swan Song. You know it's me."
That nickname always had the capacity to freeze Emma's entire body. She closed her eyes and tried to sound bored. "What do you want?"
"Just to chat."
"Neal, you need to stop asking me to chat. I don't want to speak to you."
"I realise that. You blocked my old number, didn't you?"
Emma sighed. "Don't tell me you got a new phone just so you could harass me. I thought you'd be too busy for that, what with how great your career's going now."
It was the wrong thing to say, apparently, because Neal suddenly hissed like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"You've got some fucking nerve," he spat down the line at her. "You and Regina. Why can't she back off?"
Hearing her name in his mouth made her feel sick. "Leave her out of it."
"Why don't you tell her that? She's sniffing around causing trouble and she's going to regret it. Do you two seriously think you're going to win against us?"
Taking a shaky breath, Emma decided her best option was to simply end this. "Goodbye, Neal."
"Wait," he said, the word slightly slurry. "I wanted to tell you something else."
"I don't want to hear it, you fucking weirdo."
"You know I love it when you're mean to me, Swan Song. It just makes me miss you even more." Emma shuddered, nearly dropping the phone. "I wanted to tell you that you looked nice the other week. I barely got to say it before you walked off."
"When?"
"You know when. The night when you had your tits hanging out," he slurred. "Was that all for me? Were you trying to get my attention?"
Emma's entire body went cold.
"Not fucking likely."
"Stop playing hard to get. I'm home alone right now, you know. I bet you are too. What do you say you come round and we pick up where we left off? I—"
The words sent a shock through Emma's body like a fuse blowing, and she quickly hung up and blocked the number before he could call her back. Her hands were shaking. She could taste metal in her mouth.
Fuck. She ran her hands over her hair and tried to breathe normally. It's okay. He was just drunk and looking for a fight. It's okay.
But the words didn't comfort her at all, and she suddenly needed to be out of that place. She couldn't sit by herself waiting for him to show up when she wasn't sure she'd be able to fight him off again.
She grabbed her coat and headed for the door, but then heard footsteps on the stairs outside. She froze.
They sauntered right past her door and continued on their way up to the top of the building – it was just one of her neighbours, Emma realised. But that didn't stop her throat from closing up, or her feet from leading her away from the door once more.
She was dialling Regina's number before she could stop to think about it. As usual, it rolled straight through to voicemail.
Emma hung up and opened her messages.
Regina. I need to come round.
Within a few seconds, Regina was typing a response. On the phone to Moscow. I'll send Sidney. Are you okay?
Emma didn't reply. She sat nervously on the edge of the couch and waited for the buzzer to go downstairs. She jumped when, instead, there was a knock at her front door.
She crept over to it and squinted through the peephole. It wasn't Neal on the other side.
Sidney was waiting for her when she pulled it open. He smiled anxiously.
"Regina wanted me to come and get you from up here. I hope you don't mind – I used her spare key."
Emma could have cried and fallen into his arms, but she forced herself to shake her head instead. She locked up the apartment and followed Sidney down to the car, not saying a word as they drove across town.
Sidney escorted her up to the 19th floor and stood by her side as she waited for Regina to come to the door. Only when they heard her footsteps approaching did Emma turn to him and shakily say thank you.
He squeezed her arm. "Any time. Will you be okay?"
"I… probably. Sorry." She laughed shakily. "When was the last time you saw me and I wasn't a nervous wreck?"
He just smiled back at her. Then the front door was open, and Regina was grabbing her hand. "Emma. Are you alright?"
Emma nodded and walked inside, leaving Regina to thank Sidney and say goodnight to him. She double locked the door before she led Emma into the living room, not even scolding her for still having her shoes on.
They sat on the couch in complete silence for a moment before Regina said, "This reminds me of another day, you know."
Emma had just been thinking the same thing. Thankfully this wasn't as bad as that had been – she was shaky, but her clothes were intact and the initial panic was starting to subside. Now Regina was beside her, she was starting to feel safer.
"Yeah. Me too."
"Please don't tell me it's a similar situation."
Emma looked pleadingly at her. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I keep attracting drama wherever I go."
But Regina was looking back at her like she was ready to commit murder. "He came round?"
"No. God. He called me."
That didn't seem to lessen Regina's rage. "And? What did he want?"
After a pause, Emma tentatively recounted the conversation. Halfway through, she started to wonder if she was overreacting – it was only a phone call, after all. He wouldn't have actually done anything.
But then she saw the way Regina's cheeks had turned slightly purple and she floundered. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen her look that angry before. Ever.
"I'm going to kill him," she said. The fact that her voice was perfectly calm filled Emma with more terror than she'd known possible. "Did he call you from his studio?"
"I don't know. He didn't say."
"Did you recognise the number?"
"No. It was a new one."
"Stay here," Regina said, getting up. At once, Emma grabbed her hand and stopped her.
"Regina, for God's sake. Don't be so stupid."
"I'm not being stupid. I'm being murderous. It's different."
"Look, he was drunk and obviously pissed off about something you've been doing. I guess he's gotten wind of the fact that you're trying to dig up some dirt on Gold. You got to him, which means whatever you're doing is working. Just… please. Don't go round there."
Regina was still standing, her eyes fierce and her fists clenched. "He doesn't get to call you and terrify you and get away with it. I'm not scared of that little troll."
"I know you're not, but… I am," Emma finally admitted, hating herself for it. That, at least, took the wind out of Regina's sails. "I don't want to be, but I am, and I can't have you going near him. Please. He was just being dumb and trying to get to me and I shouldn't have gotten so worked up about it, but he still does something to me that I don't like. I just… needed you."
Regina sat back down, her face softening. "I'm right here, Em. I won't let anything happen to you."
"I know. I couldn't sit by myself waiting for him to show up when I know you're here and you'll look out for me."
"Always," Regina said fiercely. She suddenly reached forward and tugged Emma into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry I didn't pick up the phone. I was busy and I… I'm sorry."
Emma laughed faintly into her shoulder. "Remember the days when you refused to apologise to me?"
"Shut up. I'm being tender."
It was such a dumb thing to say that it made Emma feel inexplicably better. She sank into the hug and buried her face in Regina's neck, breathing in the smell of her and wondering for the 50th time that week when she'd finally be able to come home to that scent every day.
Maybe Regina felt her tense up, because her next question was an unexpected one. "Is this why you've been on edge recently?"
Emma pulled back at once. "What?"
"I'm not an idiot. You're been sulking for about a month," Regina said, brushing Emma's hair back from her face.
"I have not."
"Yes, you have."
"Okay, fine – but I'm surprised you've noticed, since your nose has been buried in your phone that entire time."
Regina slowly raised her eyebrows. "Emma. I've been busy, I grant you, and I'm aware I've been too distracted to be a half-decent girlfriend recently. But I also know that something's been bothering you for weeks – way before I suddenly started taking calls at the dinner table. What I don't understand is why you haven't talked to me about it."
It always sounded so simple when Regina said it, but the reality was anything but.
"I've tried!" Emma protested. "Regina, for Christ's sake – don't you realise how hard it can be to talk to you?"
Regina blinked. "What? Why?"
"Because you're so busy and important and I feel like I'm always bugging you and you're going to get mad at me. I want to have this conversation, but you always brush it off or act like I'm being annoying and in the end it's easier to just pretend nothing's wrong and hope eventually you'll bring it up instead."
Regina looked so disappointed.
"Bring what up?"
"You really have no idea?"
"I can't say I do. I need you to tell me."
Emma sighed and slumped back against the couch. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because it's scary and I don't want to."
"Well, that may be the case, but if the other option is stewing on the other side of town and quietly resenting me, then I'm afraid I'm going to have to bully it out of you."
She was trying to be sweet, but Emma was on edge and she was tired and she was scared. Regina was right – this had been eating at her for months and the bottom line was it had absolutely nothing to do with Neal or Gold or their crazy, chaotic art life. It was just about them – Emma and Regina and absolutely no one else – and it was fucking terrifying to try and discuss that with someone who had walls built so high around herself that Emma still wasn't entirely sure she'd seen over the top of them yet.
"Don't make jokes," she snapped, rubbing her eyes. "This is serious. We need to talk and I've been scared to bring it up for months. What does that tell you?"
Regina's smile slipped. "You've been frightened to talk to me?"
"Well… not frightened. But you still make me nervous sometimes and what if I say something you don't like and you pull away like last time? I'm not sure I can go through that again, Regina. I know you keep saying that's not going to happen but it can be so hard to believe that. I'm also not sure you have the same future in mind that I do, and that really terrifies me."
She'd finally spat it out, but it didn't make her feel any better. Instead, she was forced to watch as Regina's face collapsed. "What do you mean?"
For the first time in months, she was listening. Emma had her completely undivided attention – her phone wasn't even in the same room as them, it seemed – and her beautiful brown eyes were wide and waiting for her to speak. This was the opportunity she'd been waiting for all year, and yet she still felt like she wasn't brave enough to get the words out.
Regina saw the hesitation on her face and she reached out for her hand. "Emma. You are, without a doubt, the worst communicator I've ever met. If you've been sitting on something for months then I'm really sorry about that, but it's also not my fault that you haven't told me what it is. You can't keep bottling things up and then get mad at me for not knowing about them."
Annoyingly, she was right. Emma rolled her eyes and squeezed her hand back.
"Fine," she said. She straightened up and met her dead in the eye. "Regina."
"Yes?"
"Here's the thing."
"Okay."
"I…" Emma swallowed. "I want to marry you one day."
Regina blinked. Instead of looking shocked or appalled, she just looked confused. "I... Okay?"
"I want you to tell me how you feel about that."
Another bewildered blink. "I mean… Yes. I'd like that too."
Relief hit Emma like a baseball in the centre of her chest. "You would?"
"Of course I would. What on Earth are you talking about?"
"Regina," Emma spluttered, wanting to reach out and throttle her. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Why didn't you?"
"Because you keep acting like you're happy exactly as we are! You hardly ever stay round mine and I barely come to yours anymore, and we've been together for two years but I'm still not living with you. Whenever I hint, you ignore me. Once I even asked outright and you looked at me like I was a total idiot."
Regina was looking at her in exactly that way right then. "Do you mean the time when you blurted out in the car, 'You know, I'd be happy selling my apartment if you wanted me to'?"
"Um… Yes."
"Emma, that is not asking outright. That's barely a hint. You keep spewing total nonsense because it's been filling you up for weeks until you can't hold it in anymore, and then you get upset when I don't totally understand you."
"Well, what did you think I meant?" Emma asked, her cheeks burning.
"Honestly? I thought you were trying to subtly tell me that you didn't like the apartment I bought you and were thinking of finding somewhere new."
Emma opened her mouth, then closed it again. "Oh."
"Miss Swan, I could strangle you sometimes," Regina sighed. "Why is it so impossible for you to just be honest with me? I thought we'd been working on this?"
"Because you…" Emma started, feeling her cheeks burn even darker. "You always seem like you're too busy for me. If I want to have a serious conversation then I have to schedule it in. And… I don't know, Regina. Sometimes I feel like life is perfect and I've got everything I've always wanted, but other times I feel like nothing's changed. You still use me to do your dirty work, and I don't like that. I don't mind helping you out with gallery openings and networking and stuff, but when it comes to finding out other people's secrets and snitching on them to you, it just makes me feel like you still don't think of me as anything more than your paid companion."
She thought she heard Regina's heart break right then.
"How can you possibly think that? I thought I… I've been so clear about how much I love you. I'll do anything for you."
"I know that. I do. But we still haven't addressed the fact that we've been together for two years and yet not once have you mentioned me moving back in. And then Elsa and August got engaged when they've been together for so much less time than us and I…" Emma sighed loudly. "It just got to me. I'm so happy for them, but it just reminds me that we're not there yet and that makes me really sad."
When Regina reached for her hand, Emma clung on tight.
"Emma," she said in her slowest, most careful voice. It was the one that meant Emma had to pay attention, because she was about to say something that could change everything. "Are you listening to me?"
"Yes."
"Good. Look," Regina squeezed her hand tighter. "When was the last time I asked you to come to an event? I mean, really, really asked you to be there."
Emma wrinkled her nose. "Not in a long time. Normally you just tell me where you'll be and say Sidney will collect me if I want to come."
"Exactly," Regina said. She stopped there, which made Emma realise there was something she obviously wasn't getting. "Okay – and when was the last time I nudged you into talking to some rich old man to try and get some of his money?"
Emma shuddered. "Thankfully not for ages. I always hated that."
She was completely missing the point – it was obvious in the way Regina was watching her.
"Emma, ever since we… broke up," she said tentatively, "I've been trying so hard not to be that person anymore. I don't want to boss you around or make you uncomfortable or force you into things you don't want to do. I know I asked for your help with Ashley and I know you didn't like it, but I thought you realised that I needed you for that. It was something only you could do, and if you did it, then we'd both be able to fix this thing together."
Emma swallowed. "I do know that. It's why I agreed. It just… tastes bad sometimes."
"And I get that. Really. It wasn't an ideal situation by any means but sometimes unsavoury things have to be done. Do you understand me?"
Emma nodded. "Yeah, I guess. And I do know that if I'd said no, you would have backed off. You wouldn't have forced me."
She couldn't help but notice how relieved Regina looked. She sighed, then continued. "And as for me not mentioning you moving in again, there's a very good reason for that."
Emma waited expectantly. Her heart was beating so fast it felt like a murmur.
"When we got back together last year, we promised each other we'd be more sensible this time," Regina said slowly. "We agreed to live apart so we could find our feet again. That was a smart decision, because it meant we could work out who we were as individual people as well as as an actual couple. I think we both needed it."
"I know. I agree. But—"
"I've wanted you to move back in since that day," Regina interrupted. "I would have asked you right away, but it was too fast. Six months passed and we both seemed more comfortable and more confident, but that's still a short amount of time, Emma. Most people don't move in together that quickly."
Emma laughed awkwardly. "You obviously don't know many lesbians."
"I can't say I do," Regina replied, reaching out to touch her cheek longingly. "I was waiting because I promised you a while ago that I wanted to do right by you this time. I didn't want to bully you back into my bed. You deserve your own freedom and your own space, and I wasn't going to make you give that up until you wanted to. The second you'd asked me, I would have said yes."
Emma's eyes were burning. She quickly scrubbed a fist over one of them. "But I've tried. At that event where Neal first came back, I said I wanted to live with you again."
"No, you didn't," Regina said softly. "You said that it's probably a good thing we don't live together because otherwise I'd turn you into an art snob. How the hell was I supposed to decipher that? If you were being serious and actually saying that you were still glad for your own space, how much of a sociopath would I have looked if I'd immediately told you to give it up and move in with me?"
All Emma could do was blink at her. Sometimes she spewed words out without properly thinking about them, but she always expected Regina to just understand them. She was beginning to realise that Regina used her brain with a lot more readiness than she did, and while that was probably a good thing in the long term, it also meant Emma had to stop being such a baby and just say what she meant sometimes.
Regina read all of that in her expression and laughed. "I love you, but you are quite useless."
"I am not," Emma bristled. "I'm just not very good at this. You mean more to me than anyone has ever done and I'm always scared I'm going to lose you. It was easier to hint about stuff and hope you took the lead than it was to just say stuff outright and get my heart broken again."
"I realise that. But I wish you'd realise that I've been holding onto your heart as carefully as I possibly can for a long time now. I'm not going to let anything happen to it again."
They were the softest, sweetest words Emma had ever heard, and before she could stop herself she was tumbling forward and kissing Regina hard on her lips. Regina was ready for her: she opened her arms and gathered Emma up into them, letting her lead the kiss until she was ready to stop, just like she'd been gently letting her lead everything else.
Emma eventually pulled away and cupped Regina's cheeks. "I'm going to be totally, brutally honest."
"Okay. Go ahead."
"One day," she said firmly, "I'm going to marry you. It might be next year, or it might be in 10. But it's going to happen, and I'm going to make you so happy."
Regina beamed back at her, her eyes glimmering. "I don't doubt that for a second."
"And I'd like us to talk about moving back in together," Emma said, her heart catching. "Maybe not right this second, because things are still busy and messy and we're both so monumentally fucked up that maybe we can only focus on one big thing at a time. But when this whole Gold and Neal thing is dealt with – which I know it will be eventually, because you're like a dog with a bone and you won't give up on it until you've totally ruined them. Maybe then we can have dinner, and we can talk about what happens next."
It was a scary thing to say, but she finally knew she didn't need to be worried. Regina had a tear brimming beneath her eyelashes, and Emma was beautifully relieved to realise that it was her job to brush it away.
"I'd like that," Regina said. "I'm still not going to push you, in case you change your mind. But—"
"I'm not going to change my mind," Emma said firmly. "My heart belongs here. It always has."
Regina's smile lit up the room. She reached out for Emma's chin and pulled it toward her, kissing her softly and slowly until Emma was bundled in her lap and clinging onto her shoulders like her whole world was there in front of her. Emma felt Regina's fingertips trace the length of her spine, gently kneading at the knots in her shoulders before gliding down to the two dents in the small of her back. Emma whined and wriggled, her pulse suddenly throbbing, and just like that she felt too far away. There were clothes between them and it was unbearable.
She grabbed the front of Regina's shirt and began to unbutton it. Right away, Regina chuckled.
"Not here," she murmured against her ear, her voice low and smoky. "Upstairs, princess."
Emma melted against her, groaning into her hair. Regina laughed again and nudged her backward. "Up."
Feeling drunk with relief and with the need to climb onto Regina's fingers and ride them until the sun rose, Emma followed her up the stairs and into the bedroom. Regina reached the bed first and turned around expectantly, but Emma was already there, colliding with her and kissing her hard enough to steal the breath from her lungs.
Regina gasped, winding her arms around Emma's waist and digging her nails into her back until they were both tumbling onto the mattress. Emma could feel Regina trying to manoeuvre herself back on top, but for once Emma was more determined to be the one calling the shots – she pinned Regina down and kissed her hard, unbuttoning her shirt with greedy hands, and pulled her bra down until her breasts were exposed and she could drag her tongue across them. Regina gasped, bucking up slightly, with her fingers still digging into Emma's waist.
Maybe it was relief or maybe it was just pure, white-hot love, but Emma could feel the need to make her come building up inside her, faster and harder, to such an extent that she couldn't even feel her own neediness anymore. All she could feel was Regina beneath her, breathless and excited and so happy to be there with her. It was the most magical feeling in the world.
It didn't take long to remove all of Regina's clothes. Emma stayed as she was, even down to the boots that were never normally allowed upstairs, as she peeled layer upon layer off the woman lying beneath her. Once she was totally naked, Emma's lips sought out the furiously beating skin beneath her ear and kissed it, nibbled at it, letting her tongue circle until Regina's breath had all but vanished and her spine was no longer touching the bed.
And then Emma crawled down, kissing and sucking at every inch of skin and leaving a line of faint bruises from her sternum down to her hips. Regina gasped and whined as each one formed, her body torn between desire and the slight pang of pain as she gripped Emma's hair and wordlessly pleaded with her to go on. When Emma was kneeling on the floor, Regina's bare cunt glistening right in front of her eyes, a tear sprung up in her eye.
Regina felt her pause and lifted her head. She looked concerned.
"Emma? Are you okay?"
Emma scrubbed at her fizzing nose and nodded. "God, yeah. I just love you."
Before she could be questioned on that, she dove forward and captured Regina's soaked pussy with her mouth. The fingers in her hair tightened at once.
"Emma," Regina groaned, lifting her hips. "Fuck. This isn't going to take long."
Emma was fine with that, because once she'd made her come, she was going to do it again and again and again until she was loose and floppy and unable to speak. She was going to corkscrew her fingers inside her and coax out orgasm after orgasm, laughing at her as she begged and pleaded for less and then more. She was going to be slow and tender, kissing her clit before gently stroking it with her tongue, and then she was going to be as rough and punishing as her aching arms would allow.
She couldn't count how long it went on for. Hours. Regina had had four orgasms before she started gasping, "Emma, for God's sake, please. It's your turn." Emma ignored her and flipped her over, letting the fact that she suddenly felt happier than she'd ever been in her life carry her through her exhaustion. When Regina was moaning into the crumpled sheets and sticking her ass high up in the air, she grinned and felt a new wave of energy surge through her. They both passed out before Emma could get her own turn. She didn't care.
She woke up tangled in Regina's limbs, her hair a knotted mess and her body still slightly sticky from sweat. It wasn't time to get up yet, and the second she shifted position, Regina whined in her sleep and shuffled closer. Her arm snaked around Emma's waist and her face buried into her neck, and then she was fast asleep once more.
Emma watched her, her heart warm, and nuzzled closer. With the weight of Regina clinging to her, she was asleep before her eyes had fully closed.