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She wasn't consciously avoiding him, but between running a full-time restaurant and spending most of her free time with Regina, she just hadn't had a chance to return David's calls or texts, which were growing increasingly worried and agitated.

After that Monday night, Saviors was full every night for almost two weeks straight, so she found herself working nearly 80-hour work weeks, most nights returning to her apartment after midnight, climbing into her bed, and passing out. She'd sleep for seven hours, cram in some breakfast, go for a run, and return to the restaurant to repeat the whole cycle. It was a grind. But this was her dream, she reminded herself. And the demands wouldn't stop because she suddenly had a girlfriend.

They texted every day and talked on the phone, but she'd seen Regina just twice during those two weeks, heading over to Mifflin Street after work and crawling into bed with a sleepy brunette. At first she'd declined the offer to stay over, saying she didn't want to come by so late and wake her up, especially "smelling like restaurant."

"I don't care how late you come or what you smell like. I miss you. Come sleep with me. I promise not to touch you," Regina said teasingly.

"I'm not sure promising not to touch me is going to convince me. But I miss you, too. I'll be there before midnight."

The night had been grueling. It was their first private party, a corporate group of 40 people, and they had chosen a four-course tasting menu, which meant Emma had to be in the kitchen throughout the night cooking and and playing maestro. But the group burned through bottles and bottles of wine and had grown raucous and abusive to her wait staff, so Emma had to rush into the dinning room and diffuse the situation. Emma had a way about her—she was feisty but diplomatic—and she took over for Belle and kept the customers calm until they left 20 minutes later.

But the night wore her down, and by the time she got to Regina's, she was wrecked. She even considered texting to say she couldn't make it, but more than anything she wanted to see those warm chocolate eyes and feel those inviting, protective arms around her.

So at 12:30 she crept into the mansion, hung her jacket in the hall closet, climbed the stairs, and snuck into Regina's bedroom. She stripped out of her chef uniform, leaving her in a tank top and boy shorts, washed her face and brushed her teeth, and crept into bed. She looked over at Regina longingly as she slept. Despite how much she wanted to cuddle up with her, she looked too beautiful and peaceful to wake, so she curled up next to her, carefully placing her head a few inches from Regina's.

Just as she was about to close her eyes and settle off to sleep, Regina's fluttered open, and a slow, sleepy smile blossomed beautifully across her face.

"Emma. You're here."

"Yes. Were you expecting someone else?"

Regina shook her head and hauled Emma in, slinging her head over Emma's shoulder.

"No. But I was just dreaming about you," she whispered into her ear. "So I'm just making sure it's the real you."

"What can I do to make you sure that it's the flesh-and-blood version?" Emma breathed back.

"I know it's real. You're much warmer and much more beautiful in real life," she said, tightening her arms around Emma, weaving her fingers into her hair and kissing along her jaw. She grew quiet for a moment and then let out a tiny, sleepy purr.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just… when you're in my arms, I never want to let you go."

"Then don't," Emma said, kissing her lips.

Regina pulled back to look at Emma in the darkened room.

"You look so tired, Emma. Come here. Sleep," Regina said, coaxing Emma's head onto her chest and winding her arms around her.

This feels like home, Emma thought, as sleep pulled her under.

She'd slept at Mifflin Street on one other occasion, but otherwise, they hadn't seen each other much. Emma was in the office at Saviors, finishing up the bookkeeping from the previous night, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and a lukewarm coffee in a thermos in front of her, when someone knocked on the door.

"Yes?"

August popped his head in, his face painted in his usual scowl.

"Swan, there's someone here to see you."

"Ok, who is it?"

"It's Mr. Gold. Do you want me to tell him you're occupado?"

"Fucking hell. What the hell does he want? No, send him in."

A moment later, a suited man with oily hair that hung flatly to his chin sauntered in, standing ominously in the doorway of the office. Emma stood up to her full height and greeted the man with a curt nod.

"Mr. Gold. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He gave her a smug, greasy smile.

"I wanted to formally introduce myself, Miss Swan. I understand you have quite an establishment here."

"Thank you. We're working hard. I've heard amazing things about your restaurant as well," Emma said flatly.

"Is that so? Well not everyone in this town thinks so. In fact, I think you've grown quite close to someone who thinks my restaurant is—what was it—ah, soulless, I believe."

Emma's eyebrows shot up.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, I very much hoped the venerable Miss Mills would have given us a more favorable review, but what can you do? But you never know, do you? Maybe she will change her mind," he said smugly. "But you seem like a very convincing young lady, so maybe she'll come around. I very much hope she does because no one would want the appearance of impropriety, would they? As if one restaurant got a better review than another because she had a personal attachment to one of the chefs, which I'm sure was not the case."

"You little weasel," Emma said, her face pinched with disgust.

"Ah ah ah, Miss Swan. I'd be careful there, dearie. You'd be amazed how quickly things can go off track at a restaurant," he said, flashing his gold teeth at her in a wicked grin. "Well, I am sure you are very busy. I just wanted to welcome you officially to the neighborhood. It's been a pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure was all yours, Mr. Gold. You can see yourself out."

He offered her a wink and turned on his heels, disappearing from her doorway just as abruptly as he came. Emma slumped back into her chair and buried her head in her arms.

"Fuck! Shit! Fuck!" Emma screamed into her arms, pounding her fist against the desk. August appeared int he doorway again, flopping himself into a chair opposite Emma.

"What did that scumbag want?"

"Nothing good," she said, picking up her head.

"Jesus, Emma. You look like hammered shit. You need to get away from here before you turn into a big ugly raisin with eyes," he said, gesturing vaguely at her face.

"Thanks, that's incredibly sweet of you."

"I'm serious. You need a day off. At least one. You've been living here. Go take the day off tomorrow, and maybe the day after that. You're no good to us as a corpse. I checked the books, and tomorrow is light, and I've got the A-team staff."

"No, I can't. Tomorrow is—."

"Bye! So long! Adios! Aloha!" August said, waving his hand comically. "See you in a few days."

She was too tired to object. When he left her office, she shut down her computer, threw some papers in her bag, grabbed her coat, and headed out the door.


She went to her apartment, took a shower, threw some clothes into an overnight bag, and hopped back in her bug. She didn't exactly know where she was going, but she knew she needed to recharge her batteries. She drove across town and pulled into Regina's driveway, crossing her fingers that she was home and that her presence would be a welcome surprise.

She knocked on the door and waited for a minute, for a while but no one answered. Then she remembered Regina was in Boston. Shit. She looked at her watch. It was 3:20. She could be there by dinner. She ran back to her car and fired off a text.

Emma: Want to meet me for dinner?

She immediately saw three dots appear as Regina typed her response, and she felt an instantaneous warmth in her belly.

Regina: I wish. I don't think I'll be back till close to 9. :(

Emma: Not here. I'll come to you.

Regina: To Boston?

Emma: Yes. I'm on a forced vacation. And I want to spend it with you. I want to take you to my favorite place, and then we have an overdue errand.

Regina: That's cryptic, but it sounds wonderful. I just need to make sure Henry can stay with a friend tonight. Give me a second.

Emma fidgeted in her car, waiting nervously for a response. A moment later, Regina texted her an address.

Regina: I'll be there waiting for you. XX—R

Emma turned the ignition and turned on the radio at full blast, feeling lighter and more content than she had in weeks.


She had plugged the address into her GPS without really thinking about it, so when she pulled up to the boutique XV Beacon hotel in Boston's Beacon Hill district, she ought to have felt upstaged, seeing as this was her first attempt at a spontaneous and romantic gesture. But in the weeks since they started dating, Emma quickly realized that topping from the bottom was Regina's specialty and that she was incredibly crafty at it. She had gleaned very quickly that Regina liked to be in charge both in and out of the bedroom.

She pulled her car up to the corner of the hotel at 7:10, slung her bag over her shoulder, handed her keys to the valet, and headed into the lobby. She walked up to the front desk feeling a nervous excitement percolating under the surface. An impeccably dressed blonde woman greeted her warmly with a gentle smile.

"Good evening, madam. How can I help you?" she said politely.

"I'm checking in. I think the person I'm staying with may have checked in first,"

"Yes ma'am. Miss Swan, I presume?"

Emma just nodded mutely, a little stunned. She ran restaurants that catered to the kind of people who stayed at places like this. But she had never really indulged in high-end hotels or resorts herself, and she wasn't used to this kind of treatment.

"Miss Mills asked that I give this to you," she said, handing her an envelope and a room key. "You are on the sixth floor in the Beacon Studio. Quite lovely. I'm sure you're going to love it."

She came around the front desk and guided Emma to the elevators.

"My name is Kathryn, and any friend of Regina's is a friend of mine. So please don't hesitate if there's anything you need."

Emma gave her a small smile and pressed the up button. Kathryn watched her step in and grinned at her until the doors closed. Impressed and slightly overwhelmed, Emma felt her nerves grow with each floor she passed until they were tickling just under her skin.

Why am I so nervous? She knew the answer, but she wasn't ready to say it out loud or even put words to it. She stepped off the elevator and knocked on the door of Room 606 and waited, her heart hammering in her chest. The door swung open, and Regina answered the door in a sleeveless red dress and a coy expression settled on her face. With her hair hung loosely around her shoulders and her face free of makeup, Emma was overcome by the sensation of seeing her for the first time, and it electrified her.

Suddenly, all the stress of the last few weeks and the worry over her interaction with Gold evaporated, and there was just Regina. This strong, gorgeous, brilliant, provocative woman. My girlfriend.

Emma stood there in the doorway, frozen, willing her brain and body to power on.

Sensing Emma's uncertainty, Regina simply held out her hand, and Emma took it, letting Regina pull her inside the room. Emma stepped in and looked around. Although the hotel building dated back to 1903, the room was appointed with modern luxury—stainless steel was juxtaposed by heavy black built-in shelves and a feature wall adorned by a flatscreen TV and crackling fireplace. The furniture was curvaceous and refined, and room was spacious, bookended by wall-to-ceiling windows that no doubt made the space feel airy and sunlit during the day.

Regina's black leather laptop bag sat on a heavy oak work table next to a bottle of champagne on ice, two flutes, and a single votive.

Emma came to a stop in the center of the room, and Regina gently removed her bag from her shoulder, dropping it to the floor, still giving the blonde a little space and quiet to come back to herself. The sexual tension in the room was palpable, and Emma didn't think she'd ever felt anything like it. It was heavy, like a fog rolling in and swallowing them, making them forget everything else. Finally, Regina came to stand directly in front of her, meeting her eyes fully for the first time.

"Hi," Regina said softly.

"Hi," Emma breathed.

"Is this ok? I didn't mean to steal your show. I just really love this place, and I knew you'd love it too. And they have blueberry beignets here in the morning that you won't stop thinking about for a week. And there's a roof garden with the most incredible view, and it's just—"

Emma placed a single finger in front of Regina's lips and began stalking toward her, pushing Regina backward until the back of her knees hit the bed.

"Too many words," Emma whispered. "It's been almost two weeks, and I need to kiss you now. And then I'm going to do other things to you that have nothing to do with food. And then the beignets. And then the roof garden. Ok?"

"Yes. Ok," Regina uttered, her cheeks flushing adorably.

Emma wrapped her arms fully around Regina, nuzzling into her, bringing her further and further into her. As she burrowed in, Regina could feel the tension in Emma's body, and she wanted to take charge, to help the blonde relax, to make Emma trust her. She wanted to make Emma feel so good. But instead she relinquished control, giving herself over to Emma's kiss, opening her lips and letting her girlfriend inside her mouth.

Suddenly, Emma curled her fingers around Regina's biceps and looped her arms tightly around her own neck and kissed her again, sliding her zipper slowly down and holding the small of her back reverently.

The kisses were heated, and Regina's breathing became labored, her desire for Emma quickly getting the best of her. Emma pushed Regina's dress down her hips and helped her step out of it. Her eyes swept across the curves and planes of her body, leaving kisses above the black strapless bra Regina wore before unsnapping it and letting it fall to the floor to join the dress. Emma locked with warm brown eyes while she pulled down her panties, never breaking the connection.

Regina desperately wanted to convey what she felt for Emma, how strong her feelings were, and with each kiss, with each touch, she tried to tell her. Emma took off her own sweater and peeled off her pants, removing her tank top, and standing before Regina in just her underwear.

Regina looked at her—the cascade of long blonde hair, the strong, slender figure, the wide, vulnerable green eyes, and she knew what she had to do. She beckoned her closer and kissed her lips gently.

"Emma, I want to give you something… something I've never given anyone."

Emma tilted her head, looking at her expectantly.

"Anything," she whispered.

"I want you to take me. Make me yours," Regina said, her voice trembling.

Emma's face lit with a full-wattage smile, understanding fully what Regina was offering her. She sat down on the bed and brought Regina onto her lap, swinging her legs around her back.

"You are so… you're just… everything," Emma said, kissing Regina's neck and sucking gently at the softest spot under her ear. She reached down and cupped her girlfriend's breasts, holding them, feeling their weight. She dipped her head and sucked a nipple into her mouth, pinching the other, harder, and then harder, until Regina began to whimper and moan.

Emma dragged a hand down her body, making a straight line to the apex of her thighs, and she slipped into the wetness, swirling her fingers, kissing Regina's collarbone.

"Emma, more. I need more," she panted into her ear.

The blonde entered her with two fingers, adding a third, and she began to fuck her, their bodies so close and intertwined that Emma could feel the powerful metronome of Regina's heart. The brunette's head dropped back, exposing her chest and throat fully.

"Open your eyes, Regina. Look at me," she said. "I want to see you."

Regina's eyes fluttered open, and as Emma continued to thrust into her body, curling her fingers, and using her thumb to rub her clit, she cried out, staring directly into green eyes. It was mesmerizing, watching this woman come apart in a thousand tiny little pieces, looking straight into her soul. Making Regina cum this way, watching her, feeling her, tasting her into an orgasm was the most erotic experience of Emma's life.

As Regina's body shivered and trembled through her climax, Emma pressed her face against the side of her head and placed her mouth next to her ear.

"Mine."