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Chapter 5.
"Nothing left to fight over?" Emma asked. She gave Regina a crooked, tired smile. "Well, then maybe I can relax a little. Can I use the shower?"
"Of course." Regina said, rolling her eyes. "You didn't need to ask."
The upstairs washroom had a tall, narrow walk in shower. It was surrounded by clear glass. Emma let herself relax beneath pounding hot water, before helping herself to Regina's products. Everything smelled like mint.
Emma stepped out and toweled herself off, but then realized that she hadn't chosen a new outfit. She swore quietly and edged the bathroom door open.
There on Regina's bed was her bag. Emma slumped with relief. She padded into the room and threw on the first items she found. Her clothes were going to need laundering soon, she realized, moments before also realizing that all of her dirty clothes were missing.
When she arrived downstairs, Regina silently took the outfit she had just taken off from her hands, and brought it to a small closet near the kitchen, where a stacked washer and dryer sat.
"That's so awesome. Thank you." Emma said gratefully. "Your room is nice, by the way. Very neat." She grinned.
"My room is empty. The bed is comfortable. That is about it. If you insist on staying in this city, I think we should find one equally comfortable for you." Regina spoke rapidly, turning on the laundry and closing the wooden doors over machine again.
"Here." Regina handed her an envelope that had been sitting on the table. "It's from Storybrooke, it's just as much yours as it is mine." She turned her back before Emma's jaw could hit the ground at the amount of money she had been given. "You need new clothes." Regina added.
"And you need to call Henry." Emma suddenly blurted out. "while I'm gone, I mean. You should take some time to call him…"
"He doesn't…" Regina started.
"He does, he just won't admit it. He's a kid, Regina. You can't expect him to take the first step. Call him and ask him some stupid questions about his comics. Whatever. Just…today is the day." Emma was firm enough in her tone that she impressed even herself. It was, she now knew—it was time.
Emma went out for the afternoon and found a shop that suited her tastes, right around the corner from a coffee shop. She hated clothes shopping, so one stop was all she wanted. She rewarded herself with a mocha-something-or-other that had cinnamon in it. Emma managed to find two pairs of jeans that she liked, a dressy blue long-sleeved shirt, and a new vest and tie to go with the white dress shirt that was currently being washed. Then, to balance things out, she chose a tight black dress to wear out to a nicer sort of place—like a restaurant or…
…something.
Emma blushed when she bought the thing, trying to ignore thoughts of wearing it on a date or whatever…
Just before arriving at Regina's door again, Emma felt a sudden bout of nerves. What if Henry had been angry or something on the phone? What if Regina was devastated? She knocked lightly. Regina threw open the door with a neutral expression.
"How was your afternoon?" Emma asked haltingly.
Regina smiled but said nothing more. Emma took it to mean that her chat with Henry had gone at least ok.
"Let's go out tonite." Emma decided. "To a club. I haven't done anything exciting since I came here, other than, you know, shoot the Mad Hatter."
"Must you make light of killing my friends?" Regina inquired, rather politely.
"Naw. Sorry. It's just…it seems like such a fitting metaphor for my life." Emma said.
Regina gave her an odd look. Still, she agreed to go out. Which was something.
Emma should have realized the mess she was getting herself into the moment she stepped foot in the dimly lit Italian restaurant chosen by Regina.
The ambiance, a glass of red wine on an empty stomach, and some rather odd gestures from Regina, made Emma feel weirdly high.
For one thing, Regina kept touching her hand. When she passed the bread basket (which, who were they fooling, neither would risk the carbs), or the bottle of wine, or a forkful of her stuffed mushroom appetizer, Regina's hand managed to brush Emma's wrist or fingers or palm.
After drinking some sort of expensive brandy for dessert, Emma decided that Regina was like some glowing, vibrating orb of…something. She was so sure of herself, so open with her sexual energy.
Regina had mapped out their evening, right down to the smallest detail. They were on their way to a small club where a bluegrass band was on stage for half of the evening.
In between sets, Bruce Springsteen came onto the jukebox, which seemed to amuse Regina.
Then Regina threw Emma for another loop.
When she was up getting their second round of drinks, a 20-something floppy haired hipster in a blue plaid shirt, totally hit on Regina; Regina totally let him.
"What are you doing?" Emma finally asked, when Regina sat again.
"Having fun. What are you doing?" Regina smiled enigmatically after responding.
Emma wanted to be on her own turf. She took out her phone and mapped another club altogether. Nothing intimate, nothing like a pick-up joint, just some place where they could dance.
"Let's go." Emma ignored their drinks and touched Regina's arm lightly.
Regina seemed even happier at the idea of club hopping, so she left willingly.
They cabbed to a bar Emma remembered hearing about by name only. The music was some kind of house music that Emma didn't exactly love, but put up with because she wanted to dance. Regina got their drinks.
It took Emma exactly ten minutes—a really long time, considering her surroundings—to realize that she was in a gay bar. She found herself dancing with a dark haired tattooed woman with really pretty eyes, before Regina interrupted.
"What are you doing?" It was Regina's turn to ask.
"I am enjoying myself, would you calm down?" Emma shouted, grinning as Regina got a taste of her own medicine. She reached out when Regina tried to leave and pulled her close.
"Sorry, I didn't realize!" The woman who had been hitting on Emma grinned and gestured between them before waving and leaving.
Emma laughed and kept dancing, as the music turned. Industrial pop, she guessed, glancing up to the DJ. Regina had finally decided to relax again. Emma stepped closer and found Regina's rhythm. And then they were dancing, and there was no more bullshit—no animosity, no overcharged awkward energy.
They burst out into the night air, both overheated from the dance floor, at midnight.
"This is what we were all missing in Storybrooke," Regina gasped, wiping sweat from her brow with a smile. She looked happy. It suited her.
"Can we go to the water?" Emma asked.
"Another time. We'll rent a boat." Regina stopped short. "Henry could visit? He'd like it out on the water. He's never really been anywhere else."
They cabbed it back to Regina's, not because it was horribly far, but because Regina's feet were sore.
Emma put on some classic rock she had found in vinyl and turned it low.
When Regina sauntered over to her, drink in hand, they were suddenly faced with what the end of the night might have entailed…
…had Emma ever actually been with a woman.
After a shy pass made by Regina, Emma made that point clear.
"What? I've never slept with a woman." Emma laughed and laughed…until she realized that Regina wasn't laughing at all.
"I'm…" Regina bit her tongue before she could apologize. Her eyes fluttered shut. She really was so tired of apologizing.
"It's ok." Emma jumped in. "I mean I've had my share of one-nighters and all, but other than dudes." She shrugged. "Nada…" Her eyes averted to her glass. She was really drunk. And Regina smelled really good. It might be nice to try…
"Omifuckinglord." Regina stepped back just as Emma lunged. Her hand pressed lightly to Emma's chest. "I will not be your first. Jesus Christ." She took a deep breath and changed her tone. "Goodnight, Ms. Swan. I will see you in the morning."
Emma's lunged again. It was lame. She had to do it though. Regina was about to go upstairs and if she did that, they'd never get this—whatever it was—out of their systems. And move on. She just wanted to move on.
Kissing Regina was slippery. And warm. And nice, when they tilted their heads properly. Regina's tongue was soft and really, really the opposite of intrusive, whatever that might be.
Emma was breathing hard when they broke apart.
Regina kept grimacing.
"This isn't the time, is it?" Emma squeaked.
Regina shook her head. "However…"
Emma raised her eyebrows.
"You should come to bed. I think—the bed is big enough for the both of us." Regina kept staring at Emma's chest. "The chair is terrible. I should have bought you something, I just didn't think about it."
"Ummm…Ok." Emma decided.
They opened the bedroom window wide, because Emma kept complaining that she was hot even though she ended up sleeping in just a t-shirt and underwear.
Regina kept to the far side of her side of the bed. They didn't touch during the night, and when Emma awoke the next morning, she found Regina's side empty.