Chapter Forty-Six

Things changed in Storybrooke over the next seven days. Firstly, as if even the universe itself had had enough of the permanently despondent mood that had settled over the town, the sun broke through the clouds and the days started to get warmer. Winter coats were finally taken off, and the ice cream store at the southern end of Main Street reopened for business. The town seemed more awake – though it was helped by the fact that the lingering sense of anxiety had somehow vanished as well.

Because that was the second thing that had changed: the mayor finally seemed happy again.

It was strange, because one day Regina had been gliding through Storybrooke with an expression of absolute unwillingness on her face. She didn't want to smile, she didn't want to talk. She didn't want to be mayor at all. This had been the real worry that had seeped through the town like a wine stain – even before, when Regina had been at her most tyrannical, she had been a good leader. Everything had been done, and done perfectly. Recently she seemed to be sleepwalking through it all, with the thick Maine clouds pressing down on her like her own depression.

Then one day, she stumbled into work with unwashed hair and a blatant hangover. And ever since, things had started moving again.

The pile of papers next to her desk had slowly started to shrink. The faulty streetlamp outside of the elementary school was finally fixed. Over the course of a single week, as the sun grew stronger and warmer, so did she. It seemed like nothing short of a miracle.

Emma grinned into her mug as she listened to Granny and Ruby talking.

'It just makes no sense,' Granny scoffed, tossing her dishtowel onto the counter. 'I've been asking for that pothole to be filled in for months. Every time I went to city hall to ask about it, the mayor was too busy to have even read my request. Now suddenly it's fixed. Overnight, no less. What's gotten into her?'

Emma kept her head down. She knew that Ruby was smirking without looking round at her. 'I would say she must be getting laid. But since no one in the northern hemisphere would ever want to get on that, I'm not so sure.'

There was a playful slapping sound. 'Ruby!'

'What?' she snorted. 'You know I'm right. The only thing that could loosen up a woman that tightly wound is a good, old-fashioned—'

'What are you looking so pleased about?'

Emma jumped, looking up from her coffee to find August standing in front of her. One of his eyebrows was raised and he had positioned his body to look like he was casually leaning against the booth – but his skin was a sickening shade of cement grey, and Emma could see that he was trying desperately hard to keep the weight off of his leg. She blinked.

'Oh my god,' she said. 'You look terrible.'

'Nice to see you too,' he said calmly, sliding into the seat opposite her. Immediately Emma saw some of his tension leave him.

'Where have you been hiding yourself?' she asked, gesturing for Ruby to bring him an espresso.

'Oh, you know. The usual places,' he said, draping one arm over the back of the booth. 'Wine tours. Mountain climbing. I went paragliding in the harbour one time.'

'Hilarious,' Emma said, eyeing the tiny beads of perspiration on his forehead. 'Seriously – how are you feeling? Is everything… you know. Okay?'

August continued to smile, but there was absolutely nothing behind it. 'Things are how they are. I'm still standing, at any rate.'

'Just about,' Emma said, raising her eyebrows. Ruby sauntered over with August's coffee and placed it on the table. When she looked up, ready to smile at him, Emma saw her expression darken.

'Can I… get you anything to eat?' she asked cautiously. August shook his head.

'No thanks,' he said, offering her a forced smile. Ruby glanced over at Emma before she left, her forehead furrowed. She looked back over her shoulder twice as she walked away.

Emma turned back to face August and asked in a low voice, 'Is it getting worse?'

He shrugged, drinking his coffee. 'It's sure not getting better.'

'August,' Emma snapped, folding her arms on the table. 'Stop trying to play it down. I'm worried about you.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'You are?'

'Of course I am!'

'That's good to hear,' he said, his voice too casual. 'You haven't come looking for me, or even called to check that I'm okay. I just assumed you didn't give a shit.'

The coldness in his voice shocked Emma, and she felt herself flinch. He continued to drain his tiny coffee cup, as if there could possibly be anything left in there, and smiled up at her.

She realised with a nauseating twist of her stomach that he had a point.

'I'm… sorry,' she said quietly. 'You're right. I've been a complete tool. I wasn't thinking.'

'No – to be fair, you were,' he shrugged. 'Just not about me.'

Emma swallowed.

'I'm sorry for not coming to see you,' she said. 'I've been a shitty friend, and I'm sorry. I'll make more of an effort, I promise. Everything's just been… I don't know.'

'Crazy?' August supplied for her. His voice had softened slightly.

Emma nodded, sighing. 'Yeah. Pretty much. I don't know if you've noticed, August, but this town is kind of fucked up.'

He snorted. 'I did get that impression.'

She attempted to smile back at him, but it slipped from her face when she was forced to watch August shifting in his seat, grimacing. Emma swallowed, her eyes on his body. He was thinner now, and his actions were stiff, like an old man's.

'Does anything make it hurt less?' she asked quietly.

'Not really,' he replied. 'Riding my bike. But it's getting harder and harder to… you know. Get on it.'

'I can help, if you'd like?'

'You're going to give me a leg up?' he asked, grinning. Emma forced herself to smile back.

'Something like that. I can help you relive the good old days by being your footman.'

August considered her for a moment, his face twitching with reluctant amusement. 'Thanks, Emma. I'll consider your offer and get back to you.'

In that flash of laughter in his blue eyes, Emma felt herself pause. Something about it was deflating: there was a scant reminder of the old August there – the handsome man who had burst into town on the rumble of an engine and the shriek of rubber tyres. It was an incongruent memory compared to the ghostly façade that sat before her, and the reality of what this town and this life had done to him was suddenly too much to bear. She swallowed.

'I really am sorry that I haven't been there for you,' she said quietly. The sudden sincerity made August blink. 'This isn't much of an excuse, but… look. I've never really had friends before. I'm not used to this… caring about people. Or having people care about me, for that matter. I know that sounds like I'm feeling a bit little girl orphan, but anyway. I'm really sorry. I should have paid more attention and I'm going to make more effort. I promise.'

Finally, August gave her a genuine smile. He lifted his tiny coffee up in a mock salute. 'Forget about it,' he said, surprising Emma with a gentle nudge of his foot against her ankle. 'It's not like you haven't been busy, anyway.'

Emma rolled her eyes. 'You could say that.'

'How are things going?' he asked.

Shrugging, Emma replied, 'They're okay. But we should talk more about you.'

'Emma. I asked because I'm interested, not because I'm trying to martyr myself. I want to know. So tell me – how's the big bad wolf these days?'

Emma narrowed her eyes and tried not to laugh. 'I'm surprised you haven't heard the wild gossip about town,' she said. 'Our wolf is much less likely to huff and puff nowadays.'

'Is she?' August commented, a grin slowly spreading across his face. Smiling should have lit him up, but it didn't – suddenly his cheeks seemed hollowed, and the circles beneath his eyes appeared greyer. Emma swallowed, willing herself to ignore it. 'How strange. Do tell me why that is?'

Emma felt her cheeks turning pink.

'Ah,' August said. 'I see. No wonder you haven't been around.'

'Nothing like that,' Emma snapped, grabbing her coffee and holding it between two hands. 'We're just… dating, I guess. We're seeing how things go.'

Silence followed and, to her surprise, when she looked back up again, August was beaming at her. 'Emma. That's great. Really.'

'It is?'

'Of course it is. Though I'm kind of surprised, obviously – I wasn't expecting you both to get past this. What happened?'

Emma frowned, considering the question. There wasn't really a simple answer, other than the fact that a lot had happened.

'I don't know,' she murmured. 'I think… really, I just got tired of being angry with her. I realised that I didn't even care very much – not really. I was just stuck being pissed but eventually missing her just made it too difficult to carry on with that. Does that make me a pushover?'

Her face was anxious, the corners of her mouth spiking downwards.

August smiled. 'No, of course not. You love her – you shouldn't be ashamed of yourself just because you were able to forgive her. That makes you a big person, not a small one.'

Emma smiled weakly in return. 'I guess. I just feel like I must be a bit of a sucker. I've essentially said to her, "oh, you murdered a bunch of people? That's cool, now what's for dinner?" But…' Her sentence trailed off with a sigh.

'…but she makes you happy,' August finished for her. Emma bit her lip.

'Yeah,' she said softly. 'She does.'

'So how come you're only 'dating' now?' he asked, air quotes lined with sarcasm floating around the word. 'Are you expecting something to change again?'

'No, not exactly. We're just being a bit more realistic this time. Things go wrong, and we are just trying to do a bit of damage control.'

August raised his eyebrows. 'Wow. That might be the most romantic thing I've ever heard.'

'You know what I mean,' Emma rolled her eyes. 'If we move too fast and fall right back into being head over heels in love, and then I realise that, actually, I can't forgive her after all, or something equally stupid that we both know I'll start having second thoughts about sooner or later – it'll destroy her. It'll destroy both of us.' She leaned back in her chair and ran her hands through her hair. 'We both need some time to work out whether this is what we actually want, before we go back to really being together.'

'I see,' August said, leaning forward in order to reclose the gap between them. He drummed his fingers against the sticky plastic table. 'So then – is this what you want?'

Emma blinked. 'Sorry?'

'Being with Regina. Is it what you want?' August repeated, quickly adding, 'Yes or no. Don't overthink it.'

Swallowing, Emma looked down at her now empty mug. Not overthinking sounded like a difficult task for her in theory, but the moment she opened her mouth, she realised that the answer was painfully simple.

'Yeah,' she said softly. 'It is. It always has been.'

'And is it what Regina wants, too?' August prompted. This time, Emma didn't need to think at all.

'Yes,' she said. 'Without a doubt.'

When August didn't respond, she looked up. He was watching her pointedly.

'What?'

'You're an idiot,' he said.

Emma blinked. 'Why?'

'Because you've got her,' he groaned, raising his eyebrows. 'It's too late. You love her. Yeah, you might get hurt again, but so what? If you decide to drop her right now, you'll both get hurt anyway. Get over this fear of things going wrong – it's really not working out for you.'

Emma opened her mouth, bristling and ready to argue, but August interrupted her before she could say a word.

'You love her,' he repeated flatly. 'So you may as well just go to her and tell her that.'

Emma blinked several times. 'Are you getting antsy because you're in pain?'

The groan that escaped from August's mouth sounded more animal than she'd expected. 'I'm not antsy – I'm impatient. I don't have much time left to do the things I want to do, and here you are, with the woman of your dreams waiting for you two streets away, and all you're doing is biting your lip and waiting for someone to make the decision for you. You're a grown ass woman, Emma, so go and do this for yourself.'

Emma recoiled, partially furious that he was snapping at her when she didn't actually recall asking for his opinion, and partially annoyed because he was completely and utterly right. She made a mental note to check in Henry's book later that he was actually Pinocchio after all, rather than the annoying cricket that loved telling people what to do.

She glanced over at the door. 'You… you think I should go now?'

'Yes,' August ground out, rolling his eyes. He shifted his legs uncomfortably beneath the table. 'You want to see her – even I know that. So do it. Tell her that you know what you want, and it's her.'

Emma swallowed, her forehead puckering into an anxious frown. 'Why are you doing this?' she asked quietly, her knees bouncing under the table. She glanced over at the door once more. 'What's in it for you?'

August's unyielding gaze teamed with the cold, grey pallor of his skin made him look like he'd been carved from stone. But his hard expression was finally softening.

'There is absolutely nothing in this for me, Emma,' he said softly. 'I'm done. Can't you see that? I'm… I'm on my way out. There's nothing that can change that, and that's okay – I probably don't deserve redemption. But that doesn't mean you don't either. So why shouldn't I help you? You're my friend. You deserve to be happy.'

Emma opened her mouth, then closed it. 'August…'

'Emma,' he interrupted, his voice firm. 'Please. Just go now.'

And finally, as if his words had ignited something deep within her that she suddenly couldn't extinguish, she didn't need to be told again.

The drive was quick. Emma pressed her foot to the floor and blazed through Storybrooke's streets, even though it was littered with early morning pedestrians and she knew that knocking over a child probably wasn't going to look great on her sheriff's record. But her heart was tugging against the bars of her chest, and she couldn't ignore it any longer. All of a sudden, there was nowhere else she wanted to be more than at the mayor's door, finally letting herself fall wholly and heavily into Regina's arms when she opened them to her.

She gritted her teeth, pushing down the sick, twisting feeling that was snaking through her stomach, and rounded the next corner at full speed. The trees that lined Regina's street whizzed past her.

She pulled up outside the mansion and killed the engine, her shaking hands resting against the wheel. This is right, she muttered to herself, closing her eyes. This is what you've wanted since the very start. And it staggered her to realise that she'd known this all along – ever since the darkest day of her life, when Regina had taken her underground and broken both of their hearts, she'd known that she would forgive her. Holding a grudge was a necessity, but going back to her after it all was pure, simple inevitability.

Emma realised then, with a throbbing pain that resonated throughout her body, that she was meant to be with Regina. In spite of everything, she simply couldn't imagine a life without her. The thought was terrifying – and yet the knot in her chest finally loosened.

She flipped her mirror downwards, gave herself a brief glance, and got out of the car. Regina's Mercedes was parked on the driveway. It made her heart squeeze.

Slamming the car door behind her, Emma straightened her leather armour and opened the low, iron gate. The house loomed over her, glaringly white against the hazy early morning sky. Everything felt like it was tilting all of a sudden – Emma, the ground she stood on, the world itself. It was like Regina was her own personal gravity, and everything was pulling her towards that centre. Regina was inside that house, barely metres away, and without an ounce of conscious input, Emma found herself tumbling towards the door.

She trotted up the path and onto the raised porch. The knocking sound of her fist against the wooden door echoed like a thunderclap.

Emma waited for it to open, tugging down on the sleeves of her jacket like that was somehow going to help the feeling of being horribly overexposed. She cleared her throat. Her hand rose of its own accord and began to twist at a stray lock of hair. Then the door opened, and she forced herself not to flinch.

'Emma,' Henry said, beaming up at her. 'Hi!'

Emma blinked, words failing her. Somehow – as awful as it was to admit it – she had momentarily forgotten about him.

'Oh,' she said, her voice immediately betraying her surprise. 'Hey, kid. How… how are you?'

'I'm good,' he said, shrugging. He had his school uniform on, and resting against the wall were his backpack and coat. 'What are you doing here?'

Emma wetted her lips. 'Well. I… err.'

The sound of a door opening from the back of the house saved her from finishing an unfinishable sentence. She looked up and saw Regina edging through the kitchen door, dressed in a tightly fitted blue dress and black heels. Her coat was draped over one arm, while her spare hand rummaged through the contents of her patent leather purse.

'Henry,' Regina muttered, not looking up. 'Have you seen my keys anywhere? I could have sworn…'

'Mom,' Henry interrupted, a grin plastered across his face. When she still didn't look up, he repeated himself. 'Mom. Emma's here.'

At once her head shot up, with such speed that Emma heard the cracking sound from across the hall.

'Oh!' Regina's cheeks flushed dark pink, and she immediately placed her hand at the hollow of her throat. 'Emma. What are… what are you doing here?'

There was so much hope in her voice that Emma wanted to burst into tears. She held her body very still, certain that even the slightest movement towards the woman on the other side of the hall would send her tumbling towards her gravity again.

She glanced back down at Henry, sucking in a breath, and then caught sight of his backpack. Relief swarmed through her heavy limbs.

'I was just coming to see if I could take Henry to school.'

At once, Henry's face cracked into a delighted grin. He bounced up onto the balls of his feet and turned back to face Regina, whose face had crumpled like a paper bag.

'Mom? Is that okay?' Henry asked.

At once she nodded, forcing a smile onto her face.

'Of course,' she said, hugging her folded coat against her stomach. 'Thank you, Emma. That's very… kind. And I… I need to find those keys, anyway.'

She swallowed, glancing down at Henry once more. His smile broadened as he turned away, going to grab his own coat and shrug it on.

As soon as he moved, Regina's disheartened eyes crawled upwards to meet Emma's. The look that greeted her in that familiar green gaze sucked the breath out of her lungs.

Emma's normally bright eyes had darkened, and they were watching her like she was an exotic meal after she hadn't eaten for a month. Her teeth were buried in her bottom lip. It was a look that made Regina's bones go soft, even as every single one of her muscles turned to lead.

Glancing down at Regina's coat and purse, Emma faintly shook her head. At once, Regina understood – don't go. Wait here.

Her stomach danced as she nodded in return.

When Henry was ready, Emma turned to the door and led him down the path, her keys dangling from her clenched fist. They exited through the gate together, Emma's hand pressed against the back of Henry's neck, and approached the car. As Henry barrelled into the passenger seat and Emma walked around to the other side, she allowed herself to look back at the house they had just left – Regina was still there, in the doorway, watching. There was a hungriness in her eyes that made the muscles between Emma's legs clench.

Without smiling, Emma slid into the car and shut the door, pausing with her hands on either side of the wheel. Shivers were suddenly jumping through every muscle that she possessed. She took a breath as the first sharp teeth of impatience began to gnaw at the inside of her stomach.

'Emma?' Henry asked, making her jump. 'Are you okay?'

She turned to smile at him. He wore a pucker of confusion between his eyebrows in the same way that Regina always did.

'Yeah,' she said, reaching out to tousle his hair. It was getting long again. 'Sorry, kid. Miles away.'

They pulled away from the house together with Emma determinedly not looking back.

The entire journey was an exercise in torture: every now and then, for a split second, she would forget what she was going back to – and then all at once she would remember, and her heart would somersault inside her chest. The knot in her stomach tightened whenever she pictured that dark, pleading look in Regina's eyes. She would be waiting for her right at that moment, worriedly biting down on her bottom lip in case she didn't come back. Oh, God, Emma groaned to herself, a shiver down her spine forcing her back to arch away from her seat. Her lips. Those devastating lips that could undo her and fix her all at once.

'So, why did you want to drive me?' Henry suddenly asked. Emma jumped, forgetting once again that he was even there. She looked around, and Henry was beaming at her. She couldn't help but smile back.

'I just… wanted to spend some time with you,' she said, looking back at the road. 'I've kind of sucked recently. Again. As usual.'

Henry laughed, 'Nah, not really. It's okay. I've been hanging out with my mom more, anyway.'

'Have you?' Emma asked, glancing across at him. 'That's great. How are things?'

'Pretty good,' he said. 'I think she's feeling better about stuff now. And at the weekend she took me horse riding.'

'Did she?' Emma asked, grinning. 'That must have been interesting. How is the queen as an instructor?'

'She was more nervous than I was,' he laughed. 'She hasn't ridden a horse in… 28 years, I guess.'

'Yeah, true. Though wasn't it scary for you too? First time on a horse?'

'No,' Henry said proudly. 'Horses aren't scary.'

Emma shrugged. 'I guess. Anyway, I suppose you probably didn't even get a horse, did you, kid? Tell me – what was it like riding Twilight Sparkle from My Little Pony? Was it magical?'

'I'm not that small! I had a proper horse!' Henry insisted.

Emma nodded seriously. 'I know you did! It had four legs, and a mane, what else do you need? So what if your feet scrape along the ground while you're riding it? It just makes it easier to dismount, right?'

Henry elbowed her in the arm, sniggering. 'It was a real horse.'

Emma scoffed, turning into the street that Henry's school was on.

'The lady doth protest too much,' she said lightly, pulling up against the kerb. 'It's okay, I'll just check with your mom. Maybe she'll even be able to tell me what breed of donkey it was.'

A small hand slapped against her arm.

'Hey now!' she gasped, looking round at him with raised eyebrows. 'Assaulting a police officer is a serious crime, you know.'

Henry giggled, shaking his hair out of his eyes. 'You're in a weird mood,' he said, reaching into the back of the car to collect his bag from the backseat.

'Sorry,' Emma grinned, watching him struggle to lift the enormous backpack and doing nothing to help.

'You don't have to apologise – I like it. It's nice that people are happy again.'

'It is,' Emma said softly. She paused. 'Are you happy, Henry?'

Henry blinked at the sudden concern in her voice.

'I am,' he said firmly, smiling across at her. 'Things are good now, aren't they? They're going back to normal again.'

'…I hope so,' she said, reaching out to scrub a hand through his hair again. 'This is getting way too long, though. Don't go back to the ranch again or they'll try and stick a saddle on you.'

Henry poked his tongue out, then grabbed the door handle and leapt out of the car before Emma could reciprocate.

'Thanks for the ride,' he shouted behind him as he ran off into the school building. For a moment, the nervous twisting in Emma's stomach subsided. She watched him go, his messy mop of hair bouncing on top of his head, and felt a sentimental warmth seep through her bones. She smiled after him, shaking her head. And then, inevitably, the twisting returned.

She waited until Henry was inside the building, the image of Regina's dark gaze dripping like caramel through her mind, and she turned the car around. The roads were busier now, with the town's residents flocking to Main Street to take their children to school before they scurried off to work. Emma went past the sheriff's station without even glancing at it. Work could wait. Everything could wait.

She arrived back outside Regina's house fifteen minutes after she'd left, her heart pounding from somewhere near her large intestine. The Mercedes was still there.

Once she'd killed the engine, Emma rubbed her clammy palms against her jeans. With her eyes squeezed closed and her breath escaping heavily from her nose, she waited for calmness to return to her. After a few moments, she realised that her nerves had been replaced, and all she felt was restlessness. Her eyes snapped back open – she missed her. She missed Regina so much that the knot in her stomach felt more like a gunshot wound. And, like that, she couldn't wait any longer – not when it felt like she'd been waiting her whole life already.

She jumped out of the car, slammed the door shut, and charged down the path for the second time that morning. But this time, it felt different – her worries had gone, replaced by an agitated feeling of impatience that slowly prickled against her fingers and inside her chest and deep between her legs. She walked with purpose, her steps long, and when she reached the front door, she didn't knock – it was open, like she knew it would be.

The hallway was dark and cool and completely silent, and Emma found herself striding towards the kitchen without a second thought. She somehow knew that Regina would be in there – and yet, when she pushed open the door and saw her leaning against the counter, nervously twisting a ring around and around her finger, she felt a wave of shock rush through her. She was actually there. She'd waited for her.

Emma halted in the doorway. In the silence of the pristine house her footsteps were too loud and, not for the first time in her life, she felt large and clunky and intrusive. Regina's perfect, pastel life had settled back into place without her, and yet she had still waited patiently for Emma to return with all her baggage and mess.

As soon as the door opened, Regina's head snapped up. She immediately swallowed. The anxiety, and the surprise, was evident on Emma's face, but the relief on her own was somehow more palpable. She looked up at the blonde force that had suddenly – finally – stormed through her kitchen door and, with a nervous sigh, she realised that she had actually, inexplicably come back.

Emma saw it at once – she saw the shadow of uncertainty leaving her face, and without thinking, took a step towards her. Regina's eyes were somehow even darker than she remembered. The space between the two women was heavy and lonely and it desperately needed filling, and when she was only inches away, with the richness of Regina's perfume ripe in her nose and the delicate flutter of her eyelashes all she could focus on in the whole world, Emma saw the first sign of a smile on Regina's lips – the same devastating lips that she hadn't been able to stop dreaming about. Regina saw Emma's gaze shift, and with it, her expression grew greedier.

'They were in my office,' Regina said quietly. Emma paused, glancing back up from Regina's parted lips to look into her eyes. Her hand slowly reached out to tuck a strand of dark, silky hair behind her ear.

'What?' she murmured distractedly. Regina wetted her lips, and Emma's gaze shot straight back down to them.

'My keys,' she said, her voice cracking. 'They were… in my office.'

When their eyes locked, the air around them hissed like static. There was a pause, and then, with her hand resting gently against Regina's hair, Emma spoke.

'Good.'

With a single word the wait grew too much, and Regina fell forwards, her hands reaching up to grasp hold of the sides of Emma's face. Their lips crushed against one another as Emma pushed Regina backwards, pinning her body hard against the counter. Her hands cupped the back of Regina's neck as she kissed her, more urgently and desperately than she'd ever kissed her before, her tongue sliding between lips that were all too willing to part for her. Regina moaned into her mouth, reaching out to tug at Emma's jacket, pulling her as close against her straining body as possible. She felt Emma's leg slide between her own and she braced against it, her pussy clenching as she felt the skirt of her dress slide upwards and the coarse material of Emma's jeans grinding hard against her.

The kisses they had shared by the river a week before had been perfect – they had been sweet, and tentative, like every last one was a chocolate and neither of them had quite known when the box was going to run out. They had been perfect for that moment, when things had still been heady and uncertain; with both of them wordlessly asking for permission before each touch, each new kiss. But in the hazy grey morning light of this new moment, these kisses were perfect too. They were reckless, and urgent. They said I miss you and I love you and I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. Regina pulled Emma closer, her hips rocking against her braced thigh without any input from her brain, and she was surprised to find that she didn't feel embarrassed by her desperation: as soon as Emma felt the pressure of Regina's cunt against her leg beginning to increase, a slow, agonised moan escaped from her throat. She pulled away from the kiss and leaned her forehead against Regina's, her hands holding tightly onto either side of her neck. She was breathing heavily, her pupils dilated and anxiously flickering from Regina's lips to her eyes and back again.

'I…' she started, and then stopped to catch her breath, her chest heaving. Regina felt a spark of panic shoot through her and she automatically flinched, her fingers gripping onto Emma's jacket just that tiny bit tighter. But she needn't have worried.

Emma swallowed, closing her eyes, and continued, '…I've missed you so much.'

Her voice cracked, and Regina realised with a jolt that she was close to tears. Regina let go of her jacket, reaching up without thinking to take her face in her hands and kiss the hurt away, pressing her lips against her cheeks and her tensed jaw and green eyes that were scrunched shut.

'I've missed you too,' she murmured, peppering kisses across her forehead and down the bridge of her nose. 'And I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here.'

Emma nodded, swallowing. 'I know. I know you are.'

She opened her eyes and they were swimming with tears, the greenness glistening like the seawaters of the land that she'd been born into, but had never seen. Regina's heart shattered. She pulled her back into her arms and kissed her as softly as she could. She felt Emma kissing her back, and though the tension in her muscles gradually began to loosen, her grip on Regina's body never faltered.

Their kisses became slower, gentler, and gradually Regina could feel Emma sinking back into her. Emma pushed her hard against the counter, running one hand down her body, skimming over her curves and edges like she was examining a masterpiece. Her other hand stayed at the back of Regina's neck, cradling her head, pulling her gently into kisses that were soft and sweet and tasted like coffee and syrup.

Regina grip on Emma's jacket shifted, and she began to peel it off of her body, letting it drop to the floor with a soft thump. The second it was gone, she let her hands explore over Emma's body, gently tracing over the contours that her fingertips could never forget. With one hand on the small of Emma's back, Regina pulled away from Emma's mouth and began to trail kisses along her throat. Those familiar, delicious gasps began to escape from Emma's mouth as Regina's lips targeted the pulse point below her right ear that made her toes curl and the muscles between her legs clench. She fisted a hand in Regina's dark hair and moaned out loud as her tongue traced its way up to her earlobe, sucking it into her mouth and savouring it like it was made of sugar. Emma felt her chest heave against Regina's, and even then, with their bodies pressed so tightly against one another that Emma could feel Regina's pulse hammering against her own, they simply weren't close enough. The clothes on their bodies were an infuriating barrier between them, and an abrupt, manic need to claw them away suddenly made her want to scream.

She pulled sharply away from Regina's mouth, her breathing coming hard and fast from between gritted teeth. Planting a kiss against Regina's ear, she muttered, 'I need you upstairs. Now.'

Regina didn't bother to stifle her moan. Without preamble, she grabbed Emma's hand and led her out of the kitchen, with every single step sending shockwaves through her throbbing pussy.

They made it as far as the bottom stair before the need to touch one another returned in force. Regina suddenly spun around, her fingers still laced through Emma's, and pushed her back against the wall, pinning her wrists beside her head. Emma moaned, thrusting her hips forward against Regina's, as she felt her tongue slide deep into her mouth. Emma was burning hot and her whole body was crying out to be touched properly, but the mysterious strength that she always seemed to forget that Regina possessed held her firmly against the magnolia décor, and all she could do was strain and moan and be destroyed by kisses that simply weren't enough anymore.

'Regina,' she whimpered, pulling away from Regina's mouth so that she could pant the words out. She vainly struggled against her grip once more. 'Regina, please. Upstairs. Please.'

Regina grinned wickedly, ignoring the throbbing between her thighs that only intensified when she heard the desperation bubbling at the back of Emma's throat. She leaned forwards and dragged her tongue over Emma's thrashing pulse. 'This isn't enough for you, Miss Swan?'

Emma whimpered. 'No. I need to touch you. Please, Regina.'

As quickly as it had begun, Regina grew tired of her own game. She released Emma's wrists, pulled her forwards from the wall, and they resumed their journey up the stairs. Emma's hand gripped tightly onto hers as she staggered along behind her, keeping her body as close to Regina's as possible because she couldn't bear to be separated from her for even a second longer.

They reached Regina's bedroom and, the very second that the door had been slammed shut behind them, Emma found herself being pressed up against it, once more at Regina's mercy. This time, though, her hands were free to do as they wished, and without thinking she buried them in Regina's hair, gently tugging on it so that she could tilt her mouth up to meet her own. Regina moaned softly, feeling Emma's tongue sliding as deep into her mouth as it could go, and melted into her. Her hands ran down Emma's body, pausing momentarily to cup her breasts. She shivered in anticipation when she felt Emma squirm. She slid her hands further down, until her fingers were curled around the bottom of Emma's shirt, and she began to tug it upwards.

Emma didn't hesitate – she pushed herself away from the door and lifted her arms, letting the fabric glide off of her and be thrown to the floor. Then she was back on Regina, her bare arms sliding around her neck, her naked stomach heaving against the blue fabric of Regina's dress. Regina hands slipped between Emma and the door and unhooked her bra, dropping it to the carpet with careless fingers that quickly found their way back to Emma's now bare chest. Her thumbs and forefingers rolled over her nipples, coaxing them into hard peaks, as Emma moaned into her mouth. Her fingers began to fumble with the zipper on Regina's dress.

After a few moments, Regina chuckled against Emma's lips. 'Struggling?'

Emma moaned, letting go of the metal clasp and letting her head thud back against the door. Immediately, Regina's lips found their way to her exposed throat and she began to lightly suck at her skin. All the while, her fingers continued to gently pinch Emma's nipples, dragging tiny sighs out of her mouth.

Emma swallowed. 'It's hard to concentrate when you are torturing me like this.'

Regina smiled against her now wet throat. She bit down gently, clamping her thighs tightly together when Emma whimpered in response, and quietly said, 'I think that you and I have a very different idea of what torture involves.'

'I need to get you out of that dress now, Regina.'

'Be my guest,' Regina murmured. 'I'm not stopping you.'

But her lips went right back to work against Emma's raging pulse point, and she allowed herself to pinch her nipples slightly harder. Emma's hips reflexively thrust forwards, desperately trying to make some contact, and finding only air. She mewed in protest, just as Regina bent forwards and dragged her tongue over one of her breasts.

Emma groaned, automatically reaching forwards to take Regina's head in her hands and hold it against her chest. But Regina wasn't going anywhere: with her left hand still deftly toying with Emma's aching body, her mouth was sucking and gently nibbling on her nipple. Emma could feel her blood thundering through her veins and flooding straight to the throbbing bundle of nerves between her legs that had desperately needed this for far too long. Having one hand beneath the covers at night while she remembered the feeling of Regina's tongue against her throat and her breasts and her cunt was simply nothing compared to the real thing, in the flesh, in all its incredible, delicious reality.

Because Emma now needed it more desperately than she'd ever thought possible. The feeling of Regina pressed up against her right then was everything she'd been thinking of late into all of her sleepless nights alone, but it wasn't enough. She suddenly reached forwards and pushed Regina away from her, ignoring her startled cry so that she could push her face-first up against the door where Emma herself had been held hostage only moments before.

Pressing her body hard against Regina's back, Emma began to slide the zipper on her dress down, an agonising inch at a time, peppering kisses along her flawless skin as it crept into view. Regina whimpered, wriggling, but didn't try to turn around. Every kiss against her spine felt like an electric shock, and it was a torture that she loved with a desperation that she hadn't known she'd been capable of until that moment. She arched her back, pressing herself against Emma in any way that she could, and groaned when she felt Emma's lips reaching the two dents in the small of her back. Emma fell to her knees, a hand pressed against either of Regina's hips, as her tongue slid out to gently stroke the dips in her flesh. Then the zipper was fully open, and Regina's dress was allowed to slide free from her body.

Then there was nothing. Regina waited, her body pressed flat against the door, expecting to feel Emma's hands back on her but instead feeling only cool air and an ache between her legs. She swallowed, uncertain as to whether she was allowed to look over her shoulder or not.

'Emma…?' she asked, pressing her hands flat against the door.

She heard a quiet voice from behind her. 'Turn around, Regina.'

She did as she was told. Emma was kneeling on the floor, Regina's dress lying in a puddle of blue before her. Regina swallowed, balancing on the heels that she hadn't taken off yet, and forced herself not to crumble to the floor to join her – Emma's fingers were nervously drumming against her knees, and her naked chest was heaving up and down as she struggled to slow her breathing down. Her breasts seemed fuller than normal, her nipples hard and dark from where Regina's fingers and tongue had been tormenting them. She looked absolutely breathtaking – but it was her face that made Regina's heart stop beating for a moment.

Emma was looking up at her with an expression of awe that she had never seen before. Her green eyes were wide and glassy, swimming with wonder and something that looked like gratitude. They ran over Regina's black heels, over her long, tanned legs, and up to the lacy black bra and panties that were all that was covering her body. They skimmed over her shiny hair, which was getting longer and now grazed over her shoulders in loose curls. But those reverent eyes lingered on her face – they took in the nervous smile on Regina's kiss-swollen lips, the faint bite marks on her throat, the hungry gleam in her melted chocolate eyes. Emma's gaze hung there, and she shook her head in disbelief.

'You are so beautiful,' she whispered, her voice cracking.

Regina swallowed down the lump in her throat and reached out a hand, pulling Emma off of the floor and taking her back into her arms. She kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her closed eyes, her throat. She ran her tongue along her clavicle and murmured soft, sweet words against her skin.

'You are beautiful,' she replied, repeating the words over and over again as she nudged Emma backwards towards the bed. 'You are beautiful, Emma Swan. Never, ever forget it.'

Because it was a truth that Regina could never get over, and it was a truth that she knew Emma would never quite believe. Emma was beautiful in a million ways, and she rarely let herself see any of them. Regina kissed her harder, holding her close against her aching body, and murmured it again and again into her ear. Emma was beautiful in her spiky angriness, because she had been hurt too many times and she hadn't wanted to let anyone close enough to hurt her again. She was beautiful in her scars and her bruises, and the battle wounds that she had had for years and would never talk about. She was beautiful in her loud laughter and her easy smiles and her mischievous grin when she was hanging out with their son.

But right then, right in that single, magical moment, she was in Regina's arms and she was kissing her harder than she had ever kissed anybody before, and she was beautiful simply because she was Emma. Because she had messy curls and swollen lips and was still wearing her jeans and her boots when Regina was almost naked. She was beautiful because she was murmuring words back – telling Regina how much she'd missed her, and needed her, and how she didn't want to let her go ever again. They reached the bed and Regina pushed her down on top of it, then knelt beside her on the floor so that she could peel her boots and socks off while Emma struggled to remove her jeans. And it was then that Emma was at her most beautiful, her most perfect - because she was wearing red panties that didn't match her black bra, because her mascara was slightly smudged under one green eye, and because she was Emma. Because she was Regina's lover, and her best friend. She was beautiful because she simply was.

Emma propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at her with her teeth buried in her bottom lip and her curls tumbling over her breasts. Regina sighed and stood up, looking back at her with a small smile on her face.

'What is it?' Emma asked, reaching out a hand for her.

Regina slowly climbed onto the bed, straddling Emma's waist. She ran a finger down the very centre of her trembling body, stopping only when she reached the waistband of her underwear.

'I've just... missed you,' Regina said softly. 'That's all.'

Emma's eyes suddenly gleamed, like tears were on their way to the surface. She smiled, reaching out to press her hand over the top of Regina's.

'I've missed you too,' she murmured, her voice wobbling. And then she grinned. 'Now show me just how much.'

Regina laughed, and she tumbled forwards, their lips colliding and their bodies finally, mercifully, no longer apart.