Title: Butterfly Effect

Author: misscanteloupe

Rating: M

Summary: In her final year of college, Emma finds she has more to account for than the extra credits she needs in order to graduate. Only she doesn't expect it to come in the form of her newest instructor, Professor Regina Mills. AU Swan Queen

A/N: First off, I'd like to apologize for the giant delay. As I explained in my other story, I was taking a break from the Swan Queen fandom and away from all the drama involving ouat. I promise you guys I'll have this finished. I definitely can't promise speedy, one-week updates.

This chapter is more lighthearted than previous updates. And also unedited. Like for reals, I'm sure there are some major errors here. I've been working on it for days and if I have to go through one more word, I'm going to bang my head against a wall. So any mistake you see… ignore it and move on lol. I'll take care of editing whenever the time suits.

Also, this story's rated M for a reason.

"Careful, Swan. Ogle her any longer and you'll start drooling."

Emma snaps out of her gaze quickly enough to pin Killian with a glare. "I wasn't ogling."

"Are you certain?" he asks, smirking, before reaching out and dabbing at the corner of her mouth. "Because there's definitely drool."

Emma slaps his hand away. "Funny."

"What're you guys talking about?" Behind them, Kathryn emerges from the back row of seats, offering Emma a small smile before glancing at them expectantly.

Their debate class had been moved to the old theater room for the day, mostly because the second floor of the Communications building is currently flooded from a rare toilet incident. It had taken two other rooms and the smell of mildew before it was decided that debating in a larger setting would make more sense. Truthfully Emma doesn't mind the lumpy seats.

So long as she can listen to Regina's voice echoing in the background.

The thought of the other woman sends Emma's attention away from her two companions momentarily, and to Regina's confident form strutting along the stage as she monitors a particularly heated discussion. She hadn't had the chance to catch the brunette's eye in the last five minutes, as opposed to the first forty where Regina could hardly keep her eyes off Emma either.

But that's okay, because she has a better view of Regina's ass from this angle anyway.

"As you can see, Swan here has found her latest infatuation," she hears from the side. "With my help, of course. She didn't even realize she was a lesbian until I –"

That catches Emma's attention fairly quickly. She turns around and hisses, "Shut it, Jones."

Killian raises his palms up in surrender. "No harm done, love."

"And stop calling me that."

Kathryn, on the other hand, looks faintly amused. "It's okay, Emma," she says in a light tone. "I'm glad you were able to figure it out. I sort of knew it would happen sooner or later."

Emma pauses for a moment, unable to summon a proper response for that, before burrowing her face in her palms and letting out a muffled groan.

Killian's grin is as wide and cocky as ever. "I told you," he insists. "Perhaps you should consider wearing less flannel."

Emma ignores him for the most part, occasionally sparing a comment or two when Kathryn makes a suggestion about the assignment – Kathryn, whose amused half-smile annoys her almost as much as Killian's shiteating grin.

She spends the rest of the period sitting silently in her seat, about two rows back from the stage, where even though she's a little further from Regina than she would like to be, Emma could safely steal lingering glances whenever she could. At one point Regina meets her gaze again, and Emma's breath instantly hitches in her throat when she receives an almost shy smirk in return.

It's those little things that drive her insane.

It has been just over a week and a half since that moment in the classroom, when Emma's previous fantasy became reality in the form of a mind-blowing kiss that she can't forget even if she tries. Since that day she and Regina have been getting along well, more than well if the heated make out sessions in between classes are anything to go by. Emma would typically stay after class on various occasions, or simply meet up with her professor in the library or in her office for conversations that would last hours.

Paranoia will always be a given. It shows in the way Regina would falter before leaning in for a kiss, or glance around nervously in fear of someone watching. In a way it doesn't bother Emma, probably because she's practically the definition of paranoia. She understands that this… thing she's having goes against so many moral codes, it's a wonder how she hasn't lost her mind.

But it's Regina's smile that stops her from dwelling on it too much; Regina's touch that melts her in the very spot, and Emma can easily forget all about what's right and what's not. And yet… sometimes she can't help but feel like there's something missing.

"Alright, that should be it for today," Regina announces from the stage, gesturing to a guy named August. "Mr. Booth, you may want to consider researching your facts before arguing over a matter you know nothing about. As for everyone else, we'll continue this on Monday. Class dismissed."

The resulting shuffle around her spurs Emma to stand, waiting out the next few minutes as everyone begins to leave. Killian pauses briefly before turning to her and asking, "I don't suppose dinner would peak your interest?"

Emma raises an eyebrow. "First you accuse me of being gay and now you're asking me out again."

"As tempting as it is, I must admit I don't have very many female friends. It's quite enjoyable, actually," he explains. "And I've come to know a lovely lady named Milah who wouldn't appreciate the gesture of courting you."

Shaking her head, Emma feels a smile tug at her lips. "Lunch. I have plans tonight."

"And I take it they involve a certain stunning instructor of ours?"

"That's none of your business."

He places a finger beneath his chin in thought, a wide smirk adorning his face as he tips his head in acquiescence. "Touché," he says. "Lunch, Swan. That's a promise."

When he leaves, Emma finally notices the silence hanging in the air. The auditorium is empty except for the lone figure standing over the stage, watching her with glittering eyes and a smile that sends Emma's heart racing. Returning the smile is easy as she takes the few extra steps to the stage, meeting Regina's eyes in a gaze that leaves them both smiling like complete idiots.

"Hi," Emma eventually breathes and shuffles a little closer. She can't help but feel a bit nervous even now, with their relationship still so new and in the works of becoming something more. Whether it's getting there or not lies in the way Regina looks at her nowadays; not with the condescending smirk she'd send Emma when they had first met. But with eyes just as nervous as hers. Soft, and almost radiant.

"Hi yourself," Regina replies back, her red, supple lips curving into that familiar smile of hers. Emma feels her knees grow weak for an instant, unconsciously entwining her fingers as she struggles with the urge to simply grab Regina's face and mash their lips together.

It definitely wouldn't be the first time.

"Are you going to stand there all night and continue ogling me, as Mr. Jones bluntly put it?" Regina says quietly, taking a step closer.

Emma swallows thickly, her gaze darting over to Regina's mouth and back up. "You heard that?"

"I hear many things, Miss Swan," Regina informs, and Emma stifles the shiver that courses up her spine at the name. "But your friend is about as discreet as he is charming. Which is to say, not at all."

Emma finds herself leaning closer still, their bodies but a few inches away. "I still don't ogle."

"Really now?" Regina practically purrs, the words hardly more than a breath as she mirrors the movement. "Then why don't you stop staring and put those lips to better use."

"I was getting there."

"Then prove –"

Whatever is about to leave Regina's mouth is cut off by Emma's lips slamming into her own. Emma quickly feels her toes curl in response when Regina immediately reciprocates, fingers reaching for her blond locks and tugging her unforgivably closer.

While it's just as heated as all the other kisses they've had, it doesn't fail to leave Emma's body thrumming with newfound energy all over again. A soft moan vibrates from Regina's throat as their lips continue to explore, first against Regina's bottom lip, which is full and pouty and just about Emma's favorite thing to bite. And then along the brunette's slender jaw, which Regina willingly tilts to the side when Emma begins to trail her lips over the sensitive spot just above Regina's throbbing pulse point, sucking and licking and tasting salty skin.

A wave of heat curls in her stomach when Regina's grip tightens around her hair, another moan rippling against Emma's mouth.

"Don't you think…" Regina rasps midway, "We should continue this in a place less… public?"

Emma's palms had somehow strayed from the other woman's hips at some point and found themselves on Regina's ass. She's wearing a knee-length dress today, and the heat circulating between their bodies makes the urge to slip her hand beneath the hem of the dress and up a toned, bare thigh much harder to ignore.

Because as intense as the kissing is, they haven't really gone much further than dry humping against a desk like a bunch of horny teenagers.

"There's no one here," Emma mumbles into Regina's neck, grinning when the brunette sucks in a shuddering breath. "You should stop worrying."

She feels Regina shudder once more when Emma moves in to kiss her again, but is promptly stopped with, "That's a very naïve way of thinking. Anyone could easily –"

"It's an abandoned theater in the empty part of campus," Emma assures her. "No one's coming."

This time when Emma moves in for another kiss, Regina turns her head and pins the blonde with a warning glare. "Emma."

Emma pulls back, her hands sliding back over the older woman's waist before she sighs into Regina's shoulder. "Right. Sorry," she murmurs somewhat sheepishly and takes a step back. "I, um… missed you?"

Thankfully Regina doesn't seem too upset, and manages to even look amused as she arches a brow. "You saw me yesterday, dear."

"Yeah, and you had a meeting," Emma points out, blushing slightly when she continues, "And we didn't get to do much except… well, you know… Stuff."

"How eloquent," Regina drawls, but smirks nonetheless. "Tell me more."

Emma rolls her eyes and tucks her hands into her pockets, her face now a tomato shade of red. "Har har."

This isn't exactly how she expected the conversation to go, aside from the mini make out session that still has her body tingling all over. But when Regina takes a step forward, Emma pushes aside the embarrassment for a moment to peer up. She stares in curiosity as Regina reaches out to brush a lock of hair from Emma's face and tucks it behind her ear.

"I'll make it up to you," Regina says softly. And while it obviously isn't the most physical gesture she's made in the last two weeks, it's definitely the most affectionate.

And Emma finds there's something really strange about the way a human heart can react to another person's touch.

She smiles goofily. "Tonight?"

"I will be in my office grading midterms," Regina states apologetically, but quickly offers, "But you may stop by any time you'd like. We'll order in."

At that, Emma instantly deflates with a short, "Oh."

"Is that… not to your liking?"

She sounds unsure, and it makes Emma's stomach drop when she rushes out, "No! I mean, that sounds fine." She shuffles uneasily and adds, "I was just hoping we could do something else for a change. You know, maybe go out to dinner this time."

"Like a… date?" Regina hesitates, drawing out the word like it leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

"Um… yeah," Emma says awkwardly. And shit. She's never felt so stupid in her life. "Like a date."

The weird thing about this whole arrangement is that it isn't anything like the other relationships Emma's had in the past. Not that she would go so far as to call… whatever this is a relationship. In high school she had dated on and off until she met Neal, but even then it all seemed normal. She didn't necessarily have to hide the fact that she was dating a thief at the time, for one.

But with Regina, hiding had become almost of a second nature for Emma by now. The laws of relationships don't apply here anymore when sneaking around seems like the main priority. She can't even look at Regina for too long without raising suspicions, nonetheless be seen with her outside of campus.

She should probably talk to Killian about keeping his mouth shut more often.

"My mother always said dating is for weak imbeciles," Regina mutters thoughtfully, more to herself than to Emma, who blinks in response.

"She uh… sounds like a real piece of work."

"Indeed," Regina responds, her tone wry. Brown eyes flash over to Emma's, softening to a degree as Regina continues, "I'll tell you what. How about you come over to my house tomorrow instead? I'll make my famous lasagna and we'll sit in and watch a movie. Unless you'd like to partake in… other activities."

For a second Emma doesn't think she's heard right, because there's no way Regina Mills just invited her to her house and hinted at what Emma thinks she hinted at.

But Regina is staring at her with that sultry gaze of hers and suddenly Emma's mouth goes dry and her pants feel so much tighter than they should be. "Your… house?"

Other activities?

"Does that sound acceptable?" Regina asks, her eyes never leaving Emma's, and Jesus. If she keeps staring at her like that there's no chance in hell Emma is going to survive until tomorrow.

Or the next ten seconds.

"Yeah," Emma breathes after a pause, and her skin is tingling from that word alone. "Yeah. That sounds… great."

"Good," Regina says and smiles, slow and coy like she knows exactly what Emma's thinking about. And fuck it, she could have Emma's dignity too at this point. "I'll text you the details. In the mean time I should get started on these midterm papers."

Emma can only nod dumbly as Regina slips by her, her fingertips brushing over the blonde's stomach in the process. Emma shivers and swallows against the giant knot settled in her stomach.

"Oh, and Emma?" Regina says, stopping shortly after reaching the first row of seats below. Emma peers up from the stage and feels her heart spring to her throat when Regina offers her one last soft smile.

"I missed you, too."

And with that, she turns and strides out into the cool afternoon air.

"Ruby, I need your help with something."

It's later in the night when Emma finds herself in front of Ruby's dorm room. Unlike Emma and Mary Margaret, Ruby had opted to stay on campus grounds and rent out one of the suites specifically for the upperclassmen. She lives with three other roommates, but Emma figures only one of them is there when it's Ashley that opens the door.

Ruby, on the other hand, is there and just as unclothed as ever.

"Do you even own a set of pajamas?" Emma asks as an afterthought, as the younger woman is sprawled over the couch in nothing but a sports bra and a pair of blue undies.

"One or two," Ruby admits with a grin. "I mostly sleep naked."

"Of course," Emma says dryly.

Ruby's grin broadens as she sits up, the movement causing her chest to flex in a way that might've served as a distraction if Emma wasn't already distracted by another woman entirely. That being said, it's much easier to admit that maybe she's been gay all along. She can appreciate Ruby's good looks from any distance, clothed or not, though it's the type of appreciation she'd see in any girl, really; nowhere near the same as it would be to see Regina naked.

The thought of that alone makes her palms sweat and her heart rate speed up.

"So you wanted my help with something?" Ruby presses when Emma remains silent, snapping the blonde out of her trance.

Emma's cheeks grow warm as she considers what to say. It had been sort of a spontaneous decision to come here in the first place, after hours of prolonging the obvious. And now that it's clear in her head, everything else feels like it's all tumbling down.

Sucking in a deep breath, Emma holds it in and blurts out, "I never had sex with a woman before."

And fuck. Fuck.

That's not what she'd wanted to say.

Ruby stares at her for a long moment, with this look on her face that Emma's sure is judging her sanity. Hell, she's starting to question her sanity herself.

Several seconds pass without a word before, finally, Ruby says, "That's… nice and all, Em. And I'm flattered. But you're like my sister –"

Emma's eyes practically bulge out of their sockets as she hastily exclaims, "I'm not asking you to sleep with me, Rubes."

"Oh, thank god," Ruby exhales, looking far more relieved than she was a minute ago. "I mean, normally I'd be all up for it. But that would just be weird. No offense."

"None taken," Emma mutters. She runs a hand through her hair. "But in all seriousness, I came here for advice."

"For…" Ruby trails off, eyeing her curiously; that is until she gasps and simply stares at Emma with eyebrows so far up her hairline they might as well be invisible. "No way!" she exclaims and leans forward. "I knew it. What did I say?"

"Right, can we not –"

"Who is it?" Ruby quickly cuts in, eyes bright and fascinated by Emma's every move. It's starting to freak her out. "Is it that girl in our politics class? You know she's been eyeballing you since the beginning. Or… wait! Is it someone from the bar? Did you actually go out and meet someone? Who –"

"Ruby," Emma hisses, promptly shutting the brunette up. Yet Ruby continues to stare at her with this wide-eyed look of excitement and it takes every ounce of Emma's willpower not to break down and admit the truth. "It doesn't matter who it is. As a friend, can you just… skip the detail here and help me."

"Okay," Ruby relents, and dons a more serious expression as she carefully mulls over her next words. "No asking then. Got it. So what's the issue here? Afraid of a little girl-on-girl action?"

"No, that's –" Ridiculous, Emma thinks. Except that it isn't. "Okay. Maybe. Look, this… thing that I'm having. I'm going to her house for the first time tomorrow, and she just kind of hinted – I just need to be prepared. We haven't exactly gone that far yet."

"And you're asking me how to have lesbian sex?" Ruby asks bluntly and Emma's face turns red. "Em. You realize I'm just as clueless in that department as you are?"

Emma hadn't been expecting that. "What? But all those times with the sorority girls –"

"Semantics," Ruby explains shortly, waving it off. "I said they were hot. Doesn't mean I crawled into bed with them and let them finger me between the sheets."

Emma wrinkles her nose. "Can you be any more crude?"

"You asked," Ruby points out, in a voice that completely suggests Emma had it coming. "I don't know what else to tell you, though. If you really like this girl, then it should all feel natural. Wear something nice. Boost up your confidence. Or watch some porn and see what you like. Maybe she's a baby gay, too."

"A baby gay?" Emma echoes slowly.

"Yeah. You know, people just coming out of the closet."

"I don't think any of that applies to her," Emma counters, her brow furrowing in confusion. "She doesn't seem like the type to go out much. You know… we didn't get along at first. She can just be so mean and spiteful sometimes. But God, Rubes. She's just… so smart and amazing and – and she donates to practically every charity in this stupid city. And her voice – she has this way of turning you this pile of goo with her voice alone. It's mesmerizing."

"Wow," Ruby murmurs, looking both amused and faintly impressed. "I never thought I'd see the day where you'd be so whipped over some girl."

"I'm not whipped," Emma grumbles.

"Right, and I'm Angelina Jolie," Ruby quips, rolling her eyes. "You know, for a second there I almost thought you were talking about Professor Mills."

Emma's expression morphs to panic before she can stop it, the air catching in her lungs as she struggles to come up with an excuse. But it's too late. Ruby's gaze darts across her face in a knowing manner, realization dawning over her own features as quickly as it takes her to gasp and say –

"Holy shit."

Emma winces. "Ruby…"

"No. I can't believe you've been keeping this from me," Ruby says and she leans forward in her seat, her face twisted in fascination. "Forget about minding my own business. Tell me everything."

Cupping her face in her palms, Emma sighs heavily. This is going to be a long night.

In the end Ruby does give her advice – specifically some that includes a naughty schoolgirl outfit that leaves Emma's jaw dropping open, and apparently 'any teacher drooling at your feet.'

"Oh this is perfect," Ruby had declared, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "Everyone's got a fantasy they wanna see played out. Trust me, Em. She won't be able to take her hands off you."

As appealing as that is, Emma would rather keep some of self-respect.

"There's no way in hell I'm wearing that."

It had taken a good ten minutes of refusing, and staring at the skimpy outfit in horror, before Ruby finally relented. Instead she settled for a set of red lacy lingerie, which in truth Emma couldn't be sure of either. But it had to be better than anything she could come up with.

"Red is more risqué," Ruby clarified upon the blonde's befuddled expression. She shoved the material into Emma's hands. "Gives the foreplay some extra flavor. Just try it."

And Emma just shrugged.

It's in the afternoon the next day when Emma comes close to having a panic attack. Forget the fact that she has nothing suitable to wear that doesn't scream desperate, but she had completely forgotten the lunch arrangements she'd made with Killian. Not to mention the photo shoot she promised Mary Margaret she wouldn't miss.

"But Emma, we need you there," Mary Margaret tries to explain, after Emma's latest attempts of getting out of it. "You're the only female model we have."

"Didn't we do this photo shoot last month?" Emma deflects, frowning. She had modeled for several of Mary Margaret's art projects in the past; one of which involved more paint than she could get out of her hair in a day.

"Mr. Leohle liked it so much, he wants us to do another one for the museum's next exhibit," she answers with a shrug.

"Can't you just find someone else?" Emma groans.

"But you promised," Mary Margaret reminds her, jutting her lip out in a pout. "You'll be back before six. Don't worry."

It turns out Emma never has a choice in the matter when her roommate uses guilt as the alternative.

By five thirty she's racing back to her apartment, covered head to toe in paint that she can't scrub out even if she has the time to shower. Which she doesn't. She doesn't even bother with the dress Ruby had suggested she wear, instead shoving it in her backpack along with her other necessities as she rushes out. Luckily for her, Mary Margaret feels guilty enough to let Emma use her car for the night.

And that's how Emma finds herself in front of Regina's doorway – dressed in sweatpants, a tank top, and multiple colors of the rainbow. She feels out of place simply standing before the fancy wooden door, one that belongs to a much bigger, fancier looking mansion.

She doesn't have much time to gather herself together before the door opens and Regina's flawless figure emerges. Her face immediately twists into an expression of deep confusion as she takes in the sight of Emma.

"What on earth happened to you?"

Emma shifts in embarrassment and grips the strap of her backpack tighter. "Paint fight," she says meekly.

A delicate eyebrow rises up, but to Emma's relief Regina doesn't question it – or slam the door in her face. Instead she mutters, "College students these days. I swear," and opens the door further, gesturing for Emma to come in.

"Let me take your jacket. Shoes go on the mat over there. Try not to get paint everywhere," Regina instructs, to which Emma nods as she carefully deposits her paint-stained sneakers over the mat indicated. The carpet itself looks more expensive than anything Emma owns.

Once everything's in place, Emma takes the time to admire the rest of the mansion before following Regina through the foyer. When Regina had described her home as a mansion, Emma hadn't taken it too seriously. But the building is much more majestic than she expected – the solid oak floorboards are shiny and look as though they've never been walked on, and the ceilings are high and vast above her head. There's a grand staircase to the right, just before entering the parlor, that Emma assumes leads to the bedrooms. The walls, on the other hand, hold various pieces of artwork of different styles. No individual photo to speak of. In fact, aside from the few personal belongings scattered across the furniture, there's no other indication that Regina lives here at all.

"Nice place you have," Emma muses, having followed Regina to the kitchen. In the center sits a large, granite island covered in different platters. Beside it, Regina hums noncommittally.

"It was my mother's," Regina informs her, returning with a wet towel that she holds up against Emma's face. "One of the benefits, so to speak, of joining the school."

"She gave you her mansion for becoming a professor?" Emma asks, leaning into the touch as Regina begins to wipe off the bits of paint she still has caked over her face.

"Hmm, that's a story for another time," Regina tells her, and sets the cloth to the side. "You know, when you suggested a date, I envisioned something a little less… eccentric."

Emma smiles sheepishly. "I'm guessing the paint's not much of a turn-on, then?"

Regina hums again, entwining her finger around a strand of Emma's hair which, like the rest of her, is coated in paint. Regina then returns the smile with a wicked one of her own.

"Trust me, dear. You're very good at turning me on."

Jesus Christ.

Emma's mouth falls open before she can will it not to, all the heat she had felt surfacing over her cheeks now rushing between her legs. It beats and boils hotly beneath her skin and suddenly she's squirming on the spot.

"Dinner won't be ready for another thirty minutes," Regina says and she's looking at Emma, a slow, sly smile reaching her face. "You can use the time to shower if you want. There's a guest bathroom upstairs, third door to your right. Or you can make use of the one in my bedroom."

Emma's heart is still beating frantically against her ribcage, and with a suggestion like that all she can make out is the word bedroom. Regina's bedroom, to be exact. And fuck, if she doesn't leave soon, there's no telling what would happen with all the fleeting images spinning in her head.

Like Regina's bedroom. And Regina's bed.

And Regina naked and writhing beneath her.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I'll go do that," Emma stutters and hastily leaves the room. Behind her, she almost swears she hears Regina's chuckle follow her through the hallway.

And god, she's so screwed.

Finding the staircase the second time is a little harder when there are more doors than there are rooms, though she finds the bathroom easily enough. She contemplates briefly whether to search out Regina's bedroom and see what it looks like, seeing that she was given permission. But she isn't really in the mood to open more doors and somehow end up lost. And she only has less than half an hour to get ready anyway.

She has to wash her hair twice just to get most of the paint off, and even then it still has streaks of color all the way up to her roots. She finishes showering and dons the underwear set Ruby had given her, as well as the pink dress she used to wear back when she wanted to look older and sneak into bars. Surprisingly enough it still fits her, clinging to her body like a second skin. It never failed to attract the attention she craved when she was eighteen.

Twenty-two year old Emma isn't all that different.

By the time she's done she's practically a nervous wreck. Whether it's the untamed sexual tension drifting between her and Regina that might possibly get resolved tonight, or the idea of the date itself, Emma hangs back for several more minutes.

It's only when she hears Regina calling for her that Emma pushes aside the nerves bubbling up in her stomach and makes her way back downstairs. Her heart is still beating wildly, and her limbs feel much heavier than they did a minute ago. She doesn't think she's ever felt this anxious in her life.

Regina doesn't glance up from the kitchen counter as she sets out the rest of the utensils. "I apologize in advance for the quality. I think I might've burned the lasagna."

"Smells good to me."

Whatever is about to leave Regina's mouth next comes to an abrupt halt at her first glance at Emma's attire. Brown eyes widen to a near imperceptible degree before they slowly rake across Emma's body, clinging to the soft curves around her waistline, and lingering on Emma's chest.

Despite the nerves gathering in her belly, Emma can't help but feel a little smug when Regina seems distracted entirely.

Finally Regina's gaze flickers up, eyes – now darker and filled with some unfathomable emotion Emma can't quite decipher – lock hard with hers.

"You clean up quite nicely," Regina declares with a husk.

Emma's heart skips a beat, her face growing warm as she shrugs her shoulders. "I try."

Wiping her hands with a towel, Regina smiles and strides across the room over to where Emma is standing. Her eyes never leave green as she stands before the blonde, clad in a formfitting blue dress and designer heels, and Emma doesn't think she will ever get over how meticulously this woman dresses. Or just how possible it is to be that pretty.

"Relax, dear," Regina murmurs, using her thumb to stroke the side of Emma's cheek. Emma shivers at the touch, but finds herself relaxing, leaning into it nonetheless. "You look as terrified as you were that first time you decided to barge into my office."

"Yeah, well. You were pretty intimidating then," Emma jokes.

"Am I intimidating you now?" Regina asks and gently retracts her hand, though her gaze remains latched onto Emma's in an intense stare.

Emma swallows. There's a lump in her throat she can't seem to get of, but ignores it with a whispered, "In a good way."

Regina's answering smirk makes Emma's knees wobble beneath her. Backing away, she returns to the island and says, "Then I'm doing my job right." She then gestures to the dining utensils. "Would you be a dear and help set up the table?"

Dinner goes well for the most part. Emma had insisted on using the table in the kitchen to eat, as the dining hall is large enough to hold an entire party of people, and Emma would rather be able to reach across the table for the saltshaker. That being said, Regina had merely rolled her eyes and handed Emma a second saltshaker.

They sit and chat for a good hour or so after dinner's taken care of, with no plans of stopping if Regina hadn't insisted on getting the dishes done before the end of the night. Emma only smiles and grabs the rag from Regina's hand.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Helping."

"No you're not. You're my guest for the night. That means I do the dishes."

"You already cooked dinner, Regina. The least I can do is help you dry some dishes."

The pinched look Regina gives her nearly sends Emma into a laughing fit, but she drowns it out and proceeds to stack some of the plates into the dishwasher. After several seconds of glaring holes into Emma's head – playfully, she hopes – Regina gives in, and for the next few minutes they begin a routine of washing and drying.

There's a comfortable silence between them that Emma is in no mood to break, but at the same time she kind of just wants to listen to Regina's voice again. It's like standing so close to the other woman, with their shoulders brushing every so often, is making Emma's head fuzzy with the need to grasp for something more.

"I didn't get the chance to thank you yet for all of this," Emma says, breaking the silence. "The food was really good."

"Of course," Regina states in pride, not even bothering to hide her smug smile. "My father was a chef. I'd like to think I managed to inherit some of his better traits."

She reaches over and hands Emma the cutting board, their fingers brushing together in the process and it's almost enough for Emma to drop it.

She clears her throat. "I heard about your dad. I know it's been a while, but… I'm sorry about what happened."

For a second she doesn't think Regina would respond. "Twelve years," the brunette answers after a long pause. "I've had time to heal. He's had heart problems for as long as I can remember. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"Tell me about him."

Regina turns and looks at her, forehead crinkling in confusion. "Why do you want to know about my father?"

Emma simply shrugs. "He's important to you," she answers. "Even if he's not here anymore. I want to know more about your life."

"It's really not all that fascinating."

"But it's important to me," Emma points out, smiling when Regina glances over at her once more. It's a look that Emma doesn't see too often, only in the better part of their moments, when it becomes obvious that Regina isn't used to people showing any type of care or concern.

It's a look that comes awfully close to admiration.

"He loved animals," Regina says, retrieving the dish towel from the sink before handing Emma another plate. "Specifically horses. But animals in general… he would spend hours on end tending to the ones in the shelter. He would find an injured bird in the middle of the road and take it home with him, watch over it until it was able to fly on its own. He loved children, too. There was even a time in his life when he wanted to drop his professional career and read stories all day to children in the hospital."

Regina's mouth curves into a sad smile, and Emma finds herself reaching over for the brunette's gloved hand.

"Sounds like a swell guy," Emma says softly.

"He was," Regina sighs in agreement, squeezing Emma's hand in response. It feels a little weird when it's one of those dishwashing gloves rubbing against her skin, but it's the show of affection that has Emma grinning like a moron, despite the somber mood. Thus she's hardly paying attention when one of the plates slips from her other hand, falling into the tub of water with a splash.

A small gasp forces Emma's attention back to Regina, whose glare might've been effective if her dress wasn't currently soaked.

"Emma!"

"Shit," Emma mutters, and hastily grabs for the towel by the sink. Her hand knocks into a cup in the process, tipping it over into the sink and splashing Regina once again.

"Really?" Regina practically sputters. And Emma is beet red this time, struggling to rein in her laughter because, anger or not, Regina's expression is priceless.

"I'm sorry," Emma rushes out, trying again for the towel. But Regina's arm is in the way, having grabbed the nozzle from the sink and now has it aimed directly at Emma.

"Oh, you will be," Regina promises, and it's kind of hot. Except Emma doesn't expect the next turn of events.

Water shoots out from the nozzle and sprays Emma down from her abdomen to her chest, soaking her to the skin. Emma startles back with a shriek as she turns to avoid the impact, only to have the water soak her backside as well.

"It was an accident!" Emma exclaims through her laughter, nearly slipping on the wet floor as she tries to dodge another blast. "And that was a cheap shot!"

"No one ever said I played fair, dear."

Emma's dress is all but drenched now. She can vaguely hear the sound of Regina's own laughter echoing in her ears, and while it's a sound she would gladly listen to for the rest of eternity, she's always been somewhat of a competitive little shit.

Grabbing the nearest container, a pot filled to the brim with warm, soapy water, Emma holds it up to her chest with a raised brow. Dark eyes instantly narrow on her in warning, garnering a look so dark and sinister, Emma has to stop herself from lowering the pot in hesitation.

"Emma," Regina warns, quickly taking a step back. Emma mimics the movement in one long stride. "Miss Swan, don't you dare –"

Her gasp could be heard from miles; at least that's what it sounds like as soon as Emma chugs the pot in her direction, bathing the other woman across her whole torso. And it might be a stupid move on her part, but it's worth possibly having her ass kicked out into the curb with the resulting squeak lurching from Regina's lips. Because Emma has never cracked up so hard in her entire life.

Her body doubles over in endless laughter, the air threatening to burst from her lungs and she can't bring herself to care. Soon Regina's amused chuckles join hers, but those sway to the back of her mind as she strains to keep her stomach intact. It feels like pine needles stabbing at her gut.

She laughs and laughs until, finally, Emma's chest is about to implode and her laughter dies down to a mild giggle.

It's so quiet in the room then. Aside from her hoarse breathing and the water droplets slinging to the ground, Emma can't hear a thing. Her cheeks hurt from the effort of smiling, which promptly changes when she sees Regina isn't smiling at all.

In fact, she's staring at Emma with an unreadable expression; not angry like Emma halfway expects, or amused. But there's no mistaking the predatory look in her eyes that sets Emma's insides on fire.

Time seems to slow down as soon as Emma realizes where this is going, not that she has much time to dwell on it. Because the next second Regina is closing the little distance between them and shoving Emma up against the island with a bruising kiss.

The contact leaves them both moaning softly into each other's lips. Emma's hands immediately find their place above Regina's hips, whereas the brunette seems to have taken a liking to Emma's silky hair – wet now from their water fight, but that doesn't matter.

While there's a chill in the air from her clothing clinging to her body, Emma's skin feels hot to the touch, especially when nimble fingers trail across her arm and leave goose bumps in their wake. Their mouths move in perfect harmony; hurried and desperate with wet plops in between, and it's probably the hottest kiss Emma's ever had to date.

It's with an embarrassing whimper that Emma breaks the kiss in surprise, her ass digging painfully into the countertop as Regina slips a thigh in between Emma's legs. Normally there's a barrier of extra fabric whenever things get this heated, but with Emma's dress rising up inch by inch, there's nothing to cover up the red set of panties she's wearing, or the wetness seeping through the thin material.

Heat courses through her as Regina plunges her leg further up, taking the rest of the dress with it and suddenly Emma is rocking her hips into the other woman's thigh. It's a weird sensation with her panties clinging to her sex, but it's easy to ignore when she's practically humping Regina's thigh, gasping into her neck.

"Fuck," she moans when Regina hitches the dress up to Emma's stomach, leaving her skin bare to the soft hands roaming her abdomen. They slide all the way up to Emma's chest, a pair of thumbs outlining the outer sides of her bra before dipping underneath the wire.

Her breath catches in her throat as Regina grips Emma's lower lip between her teeth and traces it with her tongue. They're both breathing frantically now, Regina's thumbs circling the skin underneath her bra, just beneath Emma's nipples. Emma pulls her closer, meeting Regina's lips in a softer, languid kiss, the need to taste her growing by the second.

"I want you," Regina husks, her hot breath grazing the side of Emma's neck and she shivers in anticipation. The words alone cause Emma's sex to throb with want.

Emma should be scared, really. She should be nervous as hell, and in a way she is. But Ruby's words echo back at her and Emma realizes she'd been right after all. Being with Regina is as effortless as breathing.

"Then have me," Emma whispers back, watching as Regina's pupils dilate and flicker to Emma's bra.

Her hands slowly make their way out of the fabric, instead bunching up the rest of the dress and raising the material over Emma's shoulders. Emma follows the gesture by raising her arms, allowing Regina to remove the dress and sling it over her head.

Their mouths meet in a clash of tongue and teeth, a kiss much more carnal and deeper than their previous. Hands slide back up Emma's body and cup her breasts over the lace-clad bra, ripping a gasp from Emma's throat.

Regina chuckles, her voice low and raspy against Emma's tongue. "I certainly didn't take you as the lacy type."

"I'm not," Emma pants and runs her fingers over the backs of Regina's thighs, bringing the hem of her dress with it.

"Patience," Regina breathes, but doesn't stop Emma; which probably would've been a good thing if she had anticipated what comes next. She nearly passes out when she reaches Regina's ass, only to find nothing there.

Zip. Nada.

She isn't wearing any underwear.

"God," Emma groans, and instinctively grabs a cheek and squeezes the flesh in her palm. "You've got to be kidding me…"

Another chuckle echoes from Regina's mouth to Emma's, though it's hoarse and laced with uncontrolled desire. "I thought you might enjoy that." Emma merely nods in silent agreement as she absentmindedly continues to knead the flesh in her hands, pushing Regina further onto her own leg, and for a split second she's able to feel evidence of Regina's naked arousal coating her thigh.

The thought sends Emma's head reeling in overwhelming want.

"Bedroom," Regina gasps as she rolls her hips into Emma once more, and this time Emma does feel her arousal, warm and wet. Jesus fucking Christ.

"I don't think I'll be able to make it there."

Rather than respond, Regina yanks her forward in another deep kiss. Step by step they draw closer to the main hall, lips remaining locked in a heated dance, and hands roaming every inch of skin the other woman can find. At one point they pause outside the dining room and Emma manages to pin Regina against the wall, knocking a vase from its spot on a table.

The glass hits the floor with a shatter, forcing Regina to break away from Emma's mouth and glare at the scene. "You broke my vase."

"I'll buy you a new one."

Everything after that happens so fast. They never make it to Regina's bedroom, or even the staircase, as close as it is. Regina's legs are wrapped around Emma's waist, with the blonde supporting the extra weight all the way to the nearest loveseat until both are tumbling backwards. It's Regina who reacts first, having landed with her back pressed against the armrest. She rolls above Emma and sits up, granting the younger woman a better view of toned thighs and –

Emma gulps and flicks her gaze back to Regina's face.

"Enjoying the view?" Regina asks and stares down at the blonde with barely concealed desire.

Emma can only nod before reaching out for Regina's legs. "Yes," she answers honestly.

Something flashes in Regina's eyes right then – some indiscernible emotion that goes beyond the lust framed heavily over her features. Silently – and slowly, never losing eye contact – Regina reaches behind her and unzips the dress down the length of her back, allowing it to fall over her shoulders. It takes a minute to shrug out of the material, but it's completely worth the hassle when Regina is left clad in only a bra.

Emma's heart pounds painfully in her ears and shoots straight to her core at the sight of the older woman's glistening sex hovering above her. It's fairly obvious she takes good care of herself and Emma doesn't know why that sends her arousal to new heights.

"Take it off," Regina says throatily, referring to the last remaining piece of clothing.

Emma sucks in a shuddering breath as she unclasps the bra with relative ease and lets the straps slide down Regina's arms, revealing heaving breasts and hard, dusky nipples. Emma's mouth falls open, her eyes devouring Regina's body, and she doesn't think she's ever seen anything more beautiful.

"You're going to catch flies, dear."

Emma clamps her mouth shut, raising her gaze back up to Regina's eyes, which are watching her in amusement. Licking her lips, Emma reaches out and allows her thumb to graze over one tantalizing nipple. The urge to taste it surfaces on her tongue and she leans forward, closing her lips around the bud, while a hand moves to cup her other breast.

Regina's gasp vibrates against her mouth, hands twining in Emma's hair and pulling her closer. And Emma happily proceeds, humming out her pleasure as she continues sucking each nipple with vigor.

Soon enough Emma's pulling back at Regina's insistence. Their eyes meet through a haze of uneven breaths, hair disheveled and lips swollen to matching shades of red. There's nothing Emma wants to do more than spend the rest of the night ravishing Regina's body. She wants to have Regina's fingers inside her, knuckle-deep and fucking her until she loses consciousness. But most of all she wants Regina to feel the same.

"I want to taste you," Emma whispers, and she's not really sure what that means. Or why she's whispering in the first place when there's no one in their vicinity to even hear.

Comprehension seems to dawn on the other woman, though, as her expression morphs into one of surprise; followed by a touch of excitement that Emma doesn't get to see for too long before she's being lightly shoved back.

"Lie down," Regina urges gently.

Emma follows the order without question, gaping unabashedly at the view it presents when Regina shifts her weight over Emma's chest, and then directly above her face. Up close Emma can see just how wet Regina is, pink folds spread before her – she can smell the musky aroma surrounding her senses and it makes the need to have her on Emma's mouth far greater.

"Are you sure?" Regina asks, hesitating.

Emma doesn't wait to respond. Instead she grabs the backs of Regina's calves and plunges forward. The second her mouth meets flesh, Regina tenses, her body shuddering as Emma parts the brunette's lips further and tentatively explores. Tilting her head back, Regina lets out the tiniest moan.

Emma snaps her eyes shut, because holy fucking shit. That has to be the hottest thing she's ever heard.

She feels her sex clench and slickness seeping between her own legs as Emma swipes her tongue between Regina's folds, swirling it at her entrance. Hands curl around Emma's hair and dig into her scalp, urging her to go faster, and Emma does. Her lips clamp around Regina's clit, sucking it forcefully and coating her mouth in the older woman's arousal. The gesture forces another moan from Regina's lips, this one more desperate than the last.

"Oh, Emma. Yes."

Her thighs are squeezing harder around Emma's head and making it difficult to listen to the little whimpers in the air. Soon enough they've covered her ears completely, and Emma opens her eyes to see Regina's breasts swaying above her head, where she begins moving her hips, riding forward and grinding them down against Emma's mouth.

And Emma doesn't mind one bit.

She knows Regina's close when her legs begin to quake over each side of Emma's ears. Regina is riding her face at this point, her clit bumping into Emma's nose every so often and smearing her face in wetness.

"Emma," she thinks she hears Regina moan, but it's hard to tell with all her senses occupied. Regina's movements quicken, and Emma dips her tongue further into her entrance, feeling it quiver around her tongue. "Emma, I'm – oh god, yes! Right there."

Regina stiffens, her insides quivering around Emma's tongue as a thick warmth seeps into her mouth, and Emma laps up what she can. Riding out the rest of her orgasm, Regina trembles before collapsing over the blonde. Her heart is beating rapidly against Emma's breast – in a way it's soothing. It leaves this ache in the middle of her chest that becomes easier to ignore when there's a more prominent one between her legs.

"Was that okay?" Emma asks after a moment, turning to find Regina peering down at her. They stare at one another for several seconds before Regina caves in first, her soft, throaty laughter breaking the silence, and immediately Emma follows suit.

"More than okay, dear," Regina responds and edges her way to Emma's hips, tugging at the elastic band of her panties. She looks up with a sly smile.

"But you're wearing too many clothes."

I had to cut the ending short because I got lazy. Sorry! There's more smut coming up, though. Hopefully that'll make up for the long delay?