Quick author's note: for those of you who don't follow me on tumblr, you might like to know that I have finished all of the chapters for this fic. No more waiting 6 months between updates! It's all done and ready to go.

Bearing in mind that there's not actually many chapters left to come, but anyway - you should only have to wait a week between each one :) so that's something.

I hope this was sort of worth the wait. Love ya. Kisses.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Eventually Emma was forced to stop by her apartment to pick up some more clothes. Without a word of discussion about it, she had more or less moved into Regina's house, and while living there was amazing – not least because of the proper food, and the fact that her clothes seemed to get washed and ironed without her even noticing that they had been taken from the closet – after a few weeks of being there she had to concede that she missed having more than four outfits. She left work early and raced home, finding the apartment empty.

It was impossible to say whether Mary Margaret was still at school or whether she'd snuck off to meet David again, because Emma wasn't sure she'd even spoken to her roommate in the last 10 days. Emma had a sneaking suspicion that they had started meeting at the cabin in the woods where they'd nearly gotten trapped during the storm the previous year, but she'd never asked. Partially because she didn't really want to know, and partially because if Mary Margaret wasn't at home to realise that Emma had been sneaking out too, that worked out just fine for her.

She made her way upstairs and reached under her bed, grappling around for the gym bag that she wasn't sure she'd ever used. As she tugged it free, the corner got caught on something. She looked down without expression, because she knew what it would be: there was only one other thing that she kept under her bed.

She dropped the empty gym bag on the bed and bent down to curl a finger around the corner of her childhood box, tugging it towards her.

It was a force of habit, more than anything – there wasn't anything new there that she hadn't looked at in the last few months. The photo album that she had made with Regina's help – something else that shared custody between their two homes – was wrapped in her baby blanket just below the rim, and for a moment she flicked through it, her eyes skimming over the now familiar images. Perhaps Regina had had a point in making her create it – it was certainly a lot less painful to look through the photos now than it ever had been before.

Then again, she thought with a twitch of a smile, remembering how she had bickered with Henry and Regina over breakfast that morning about the merits of scrambled eggs above all other varieties – it was also slightly easier to look back at the loneliest years of her life now that she had a family of her own.

Just as this thought crossed her mind, her eyes were drawn to another photograph in her bedroom. It was one of very few that she had on display. In it, she was stood with Mary Margaret outside Granny's, both of their faces creased with laughter as they tried to take a selfie with Mary Margaret's ancient camera. Emma had collapsed laughing when she'd realised that the device actually had a roll of film in it. Weeks later, when Mary Margaret had gone to the store and gotten the film developed just to spite her, Emma had quietly taken the photo when it was offered to her. She put it in her only frame and placed it on the windowsill in her bedroom.

Now, Emma looked at it with a blank face. She hadn't slept in this room in so long that she'd almost forgotten the photo was there. She picked it up with one hand, her eyes tracing over the wrinkles of laughter lining both sets of eyes; the vaguely familiar chin that had blunted slightly on its way from Mary Margaret to herself. She sighed, and then she put the photo back.

After cramming several outfits and two more pairs of boots into her bag, Emma flicked the light off and traipsed back down the stairs. The bag was heavy, and she paused to hitch it higher on her shoulder.

'…Emma.'

She felt her heart stop. The bag fell to the floor with a crash. Emma twisted herself into a painful spiral to face the kitchen, a familiar wash of cold acid filling her stomach.

Useless. You useless piece of shit.

It was a voice that she was never going to be able to shake out of her head. Deep, and angry, and tinged with an accent that would forever make her halt in the street.

She braced herself for… she didn't know what. When she realised that the figure she'd been expecting wasn't waiting in her kitchen, and instead she was looking into the startled – and increasingly concerned – eyes of her roommate, she had to force herself not to scream.

'Mary Margaret,' she gasped, pressing an unsteady hand against her chest. She tried to swallow. 'You… you're home.'

'I am,' Mary Margaret said. She was stood in the kitchen, a bag of groceries clutched to her stomach. She slowly put it down on the counter. 'I'm so sorry, I didn't meant to scare you. Are you…?'

'I'm fine,' Emma quickly interjected. She could feel the corners of her mouth trembling.

Mary Margaret's eyes narrowed. 'You thought that Moe had broken in?'

She recoiled slightly at the coldness of Emma's stare.

'Of course not,' Emma said, reaching down for the bag that she'd dropped so that she wouldn't have to look at her anymore. 'Don't be ridiculous.'

'You know he's locked away, right?'

'Yes, I do,' Emma snapped, angrier at the pathetic tremble that she heard in her own voice than she was at her roommate. Somehow, Mary Margaret seemed to know that.

'Do you want to talk about it?'

'No,' Emma said flatly, turning her head. The sharp lump in her throat told her that tears weren't far off, and after weeks of not even speaking to the woman standing in front of her, she wasn't sure she had the capacity to deal with that. 'I'm going out.'

'Oh. I was… I was going to make chilli.'

Emma wavered for a split second. There was hope in Mary Margaret's voice and she wasn't expecting it to be quite so piercing.

'I'm sorry,' she said slowly. 'I can't.'

'You're sure? I thought maybe we could catch up.'

'Sorry. I made plans.'

'What happened to us, Emma?'

Emma blinked. The question was abrupt and made her feel like she might stumble again.

'I'm sorry?' she asked.

'Us,' Mary Margaret said, her voice firm. 'We used to be close. Then one day it was like you couldn't even stand the sight of me anymore. What did I do?'

'Mary Margaret…'

'I know you've been through a lot,' Mary Margaret interrupted her, and the shock of that act alone forced Emma to drop her bag back onto the floor. 'I get that. Believe me. I've been patient, and I didn't let it hurt me when you shut me out after what happened at City Hall. And you started to come back to me – it took a while, but you started to get there. And then one day… what? What happened?'

Emma took a step towards the kitchen, her hands thrust into the pockets of her jeans. 'Mary Margaret… I don't know what to tell you.'

'Is this because of David?' Mary Margaret asked, her voice sharp. Emma blinked.

'Sorry?'

'I know you don't like that we're sneaking around, and I get it, but don't you think you're being a bit judgemental? This is my life, my decision, and I'm the one who will have to deal with the consequences when—'

'Mary Margaret,' Emma interrupted. 'It has nothing to do with David. I've made it pretty clear that I'm not a fan of what you guys are up to, but you're right – you're an adult, and you can do whatever you want to. I'm not going to stop you.'

'So, what? What did I do?'

Abandoned me in a wardrobe 28 years ago…

'It's… I'm not sure I can explain. It's complicated.'

'Everything is always complicated with you,' Mary Margaret said, and there was venom in her voice that Emma hadn't heard before; something that was only made worse by the crestfallen expression on her round face. The twisting in Emma's stomach returned in full force, squeezing until she thought she would double over.

Mary Margaret turned away, grabbed a pan out of the drawer and slammed it down onto the stove.

'I do miss hanging out with you,' Emma muttered, edging closer. 'Things just got… really weird. A lot of stuff has happened.'

Mary Margaret didn't turn around, didn't give any indication that she was still listening. She began bustling about over the stove, spilling ground peppercorns as she went.

'I didn't want to shut you out,' Emma continued, somehow reluctant to leave. She knew that she was allowed to just walk out. She knew that her anger at her roommate – her mother – was justified, and she could leave now and probably never have this conversation again. But an overwhelming need to make things better had taken hold of her. She could see from Mary Margaret's tensed shoulders and clenched fists that she was upset, and she knew how long she must have been holding onto this hurt for. Not as long as Emma, admittedly – but long enough.

'Mary Margaret,' Emma prompted, willing her to turn around. She continued clattering about, dropping the saucepan lid onto the worktop with a loud clang.

Emma sighed. 'Mary Margaret.'

Still nothing.

Taking another step towards the kitchen, Emma reached out a hand for the island so that she could steady herself.

'I'm in love with Regina.'

Instantly, the crashing sounds stopped. Emma looked up and saw that her roommate had frozen in her tracks, one hand hovering over the cutlery drawer. It surprised Emma just how nervous she felt – was this what it was like for other people when they came out to their parents?

She watched as her mother's face, the same age as hers, turned to look at her, and she groaned inwardly. No. Nothing could ever be this fucked up.

Mary Margaret considered her for a moment, obviously checking that she wasn't joking. Then she sighed.

'Yeah,' she said, quietly closing the drawer. 'I thought you might be.'

Emma could have choked. 'You what?'

'Emma, I'm not that naïve. And I know I've been distracted, and it took me a lot longer to notice that something was up than it probably should have done,' Mary Margaret leaned back against the counter, folding her arms over her chest. 'But you haven't exactly been subtle – you are out almost every night, and I see her dropping you off at the sheriff station most mornings. You're always hiding your phone away like you're worried I'll check it. And you smell like her.'

'I smell like Regina?'

'She's cornered me at school enough times for me to recognise her perfume,' Mary Margaret said calmly, like this was a completely normal thing to notice. 'It's very distinctive.'

Emma opened her mouth to speak again, then felt it slowly close of its own accord. Mary Margaret waited, eyebrows raised, for her to speak, and eventually Emma managed to stammer out, 'But she doesn't do that to you anymore.'

'No, she doesn't,' Mary Margaret conceded. 'That was part of how I guessed, too: as soon as she started showing up around here, offering you help and trying to get you back to work, you did seem to get better. But so did she. The petty jabs and random visits to my classroom stopped. Henry perked up and it was obvious that things at home were getting much better. It seemed like everything about this arrangement was working out pretty much perfectly. But you still didn't tell me.'

'Mary Margaret…'

'You just stopped talking to me altogether.'

Emma sighed, knowing that there was no way she could explain this. With so much of the full story missing from Mary Margaret's mind, nothing would make this make sense.

'Did you…' Mary Margaret started to say, before her cheeks flushed dark pink. She swallowed. 'Did you think I would have a problem with you dating a woman?'

Emma felt a twisted desire to start laughing.

'No, Mary Margaret,' she said, shaking her head. 'Or… not really. But you and Regina have always sort of hated each other. She's been really cruel to you in the past. And you have all your own stuff going on and I don't know – how exactly could I just drop this on you? Especially when I'd been telling you what a mistake your secret relationship was.'

Finally, a hint of a smile crossed over Mary Margaret's face. 'I suppose that makes sense.'

Emma smiled back, but both women knew that it was strained. After a moment she groaned, heaving herself up onto one of the barstools.

'It's been a bit of a crazy journey,' she said with a sigh. 'We've had some… rough patches, and we split up for a while. But things are so good now. I've never been happier. And honestly I'm so scared that something will happen and I'll lose her again.'

Mary Margaret considered this for a second. 'You broke up? Was that what caused your Queens of the Stone Age and tequila phase?'

'Mary Margaret.'

'I should have guessed then,' she sighed, leaning forward against the bar. 'You had heartbreak written all over you. Why did you end things?'

Emma blinked. 'That's… not something I can easily explain.'

'You can try.'

Shifting uncomfortably on her stool, Emma said, 'She sort of… betrayed me, I guess. Or not even that – she did something bad a long time ago and then she decided to come clean about it. I didn't handle it very well.'

'How bad was it?'

Emma winced, a hundred hearts glowing in the back of her mind. 'Pretty bad.'

'But you've forgiven her now?'

'Yeah,' Emma sighed. 'Sometimes I'm worried that that makes me a shitty person… I'm not sure most people would be able to forgive something like this.'

Mary Margaret smiled. 'So what made you do it?'

'I…' Emma swallowed. This was a question that even now, months later, she wasn't sure she knew the answer to. 'I guess I just got tired of being angry with her. I missed her. And I could see how bad she felt and how much she wanted to make it right again… and eventually it just wasn't worth hating her for anymore.'

'Regina Mills,' Mary Margaret said, 'feels remorse about something?'

Emma glared at her, but her heart wasn't really in it. Mary Margaret grinned at her.

'So, what does Henry think about all of this? Or doesn't he know?'

'He knows,' Emma said, tracing her nail along one of the grooves in the wooden bar. 'He's kind of ecstatic. He always wanted us to be friends, and now he's suddenly got a proper parenting team out of this. He didn't see it coming, but he's been great about it.'

A soft, proud smile spread across her roommate's face. 'He really is a wonderful boy.'

'He is,' Emma agreed. 'I hit the jackpot there.'

A silence fell between them, and it finally dawned on Emma just how much she'd missed this. Her anger at Mary Margaret hadn't gone anywhere – it had become a dull ache inside her, like a toothache, or the way her temples had throbbed for months after Moe had attacked her. It kept on hurting, but eventually she just stopped registering it. But ultimately, Mary Margaret had been her friend for a long time - her only friend, until Regina came along. The cold feeling of betrayal deep in her abdomen wasn't going anywhere, but it didn't mean that she hadn't desperately missed the woman who had welcomed her into this town before she was even sure she wanted to stay.

'So,' Mary Margaret said, her eyes flicking over Emma's face. 'What does the future look like for you two?'

When Emma hesitated, Mary Margaret turned to the nearest cabinet and pulled out two glass tumblers. She placed them on the bar between herself and Emma, then crouched down to grab the bottle of whisky that she knew Emma had stashed away behind the cleaning supplies.

Emma flushed. 'I haven't had any of that in a while.'

'I know that,' Mary Margaret said, pouring out two glasses. 'I've been keeping an eye on it. It was more the fact that you felt like you needed to hide it away that was worrying me.'

'I didn't think you'd approve.'

'Well, can you blame me?' Mary Margaret said, lifting her glass in a toast and draining half of it with such vigour that it surprised even Emma. 'I've seen you drunk and crying on the kitchen floor more times over the last year than you realise.'

Emma felt her cheeks burn even darker. 'You have?'

'You should stop passing out here,' Mary Margaret said. 'I'm bound to find you when I get home.'

Looking down at the amber liquid in her own glass, Emma sighed. 'It's been a rough year. I'm… I'm sorry.'

'It's okay,' Mary Margaret said, and Emma was almost sure that she meant it. 'We all have our ways of dealing with things. Alcoholism wouldn't be my coping method of choice, but it worked for you.'

Emma smiled weakly. 'I guess you could say that.'

'So,' Mary Margaret repeated as she topped up her own glass. 'The future?'

'It's murky at best,' Emma admitted, rolling the whisky around the base of her glass. 'Things are complicated. The sheriff dating the mayor is dubious enough – technically I'm not even sure that's allowed? But the town has such strong feelings towards Regina that I can't imagine how people would react to this. They'd either come to her house with torches and pitchforks, or be so scared of her that they pretend nothing has happened at all.'

'Are people that scared of her still?'

'To be honest,' Emma sighed, 'I have no idea. I know too much about her now to ever be afraid of her again. I don't know what the general consensus is anymore. Do you?'

Mary Margaret took a thoughtful sip of her drink. 'Well. I know that the other teachers are less scared. She's not as intimidating as she once was. But would anyone be willing to cross her? Probably not. No matter how happy she is now, I get the impression that she could still turn quite easily. We're not out of the woods just yet.'

She laughed, and Emma knew that she had meant it as a joke, but she felt her face drop. Immediately Mary Margaret's smile faded.

'What?'

'Nothing,' Emma murmured, taking a sip of her drink. 'I guess I just… I just wish that things were a bit easier.'

Mary Margaret leaned across the bar, carefully considering Emma's morose expression. 'You're telling me that you actually care that much about what people think?'

'I didn't say that.'

'You didn't have to,' Mary Margaret said. 'I get that this is a bit scary, and there's a reasonable chance that people won't be happy when they hear that their mayor is shacking up with the head of the police department. You're right to be worried about that. But what can they do? Your relationship started long after you had already won the election, right? Anyone with a pair of eyes will be able to attest to that. There hasn't been any wrongdoing. You haven't received any special favours. If people have a problem with this, then it won't be professional; it'll be personal. So to hell with them. You don't owe these people anything.'

Emma felt her throat tightening as a wave of warm gratitude rushed over her. 'Henry would disagree with you there.'

Mary Margaret smiled, rolling her eyes. 'Even the Saviour doesn't have to sacrifice everything for her town, Emma. You don't have to punish yourself for anything.'

'I wouldn't be so sure about that,' Emma muttered, looking down at her glass. 'I can't be the best Saviour if I'm hooking up with the Evil Queen.'

Mary Margaret laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. 'Emma. You can't be serious.'

Ignoring the anxious squeeze of her stomach, Emma said, 'Maybe a little. I mean, isn't that what people will be thinking? They must question why I'd choose to be with her – we hated each other one day, and then suddenly the next day we're together?'

'Are you implying that they're going to think that Regina's cast a spell on you?'

Again, that nervous leaping sensation. 'Something like that.'

Mary Margaret sighed. 'You don't actually believe what Henry says, do you?'

'That's not what I'm saying,' Emma quickly said. 'What I mean is… No one will ever understand this. There's no reason for them to. What if everyone thinks the very worst, and they kick up a fuss, and we get torn apart again? What if we can't take it? Neither Regina nor I are particularly good at dealing with things when the shit hits the fan. I don't want the town to be a part of this relationship, and honestly, keeping things a secret has been working out really well for us up until now – but what happens when we can't do it anymore? What happens when suddenly I'm dating the town as well?'

Mary Margaret considered this, taking another sip of her whisky. 'I understand what you mean. But if you're happy keeping it a secret, why would you need to tell everyone?'

'Well,' Emma felt her cheeks filling with colour. 'I don't know. Someone could see us together. Henry could accidentally tell someone. Or, I don't know. What if things get more serious, and we get tired of keeping it quiet?'

The sudden soft, sad smile that spread across Mary Margaret's face nearly made Emma's eyes water.

'If things get more serious?' she asked quietly.

Emma felt her scalp prickle, as if Regina's magic had passed through her body once more. 'I don't know. I was speaking in generalities.'

'Have you talked about it?'

'No,' Emma swallowed. 'Not yet. But that's not what I was getting at, anyway.'

'What are you trying to say, then?'

Emma wetted her lips, letting out a sigh. 'I'm saying that if we were to decide that that's what we wanted… then we wouldn't have any choice but to tell people. We'd move in together. Everyone would know. And I wouldn't want our relationship to be over before it's properly begun.'

The same sad smile returned to Mary Margaret's face. 'You know – you're not from here, Emma. If people really did react in the way that you're imagining, you could always leave. You, Regina and Henry could try a new town together.'

'I'm not sure that's possible,' Emma sighed. 'Regina is quite… attached to Storybrooke. I'm not sure she could leave even if she wanted to.'

'What about if you wanted to?'

'We've…' Emma paused, unsure of how much she should say. 'Well. I guess we have already talked about that. Sort of.'

'You have?'

'In a sense,' Emma said, intending to stop there. But then she glanced up and, seeing the concern and confusion in the hazel eyes that she hadn't quite inherited, she gave in. 'Regina told me that if things get really bad – really bad – I have to leave. I have to take Henry and go.'

'She said what?' Mary Margaret gasped. 'What the hell are you two expecting to happen here?'

Emma sighed. 'I know, it sounds melodramatic – just, trust me. We have reason to suspect that things might go badly wrong.'

She could see that her roommate was itching to ask for more information, but on that subject, at least, she decided to let it rest.

'And would you do that?' she asked.

'I promised her I would,' Emma groaned, momentarily resting her forehead on her folded arms. 'I would rather die than take her son and leave her, but she made me swear. She can be very persuasive.'

'I can imagine,' Mary Margaret laughed. Emma offered her a weak smile in response.

'Would you really leave? If she asked you to?' Mary Margaret asked, tilting her head to one side.

'To be honest, I have no idea,' Emma said. 'I did promise, and I understand her reasons, but it's the last thing I would ever want to do. Even if I tried to resist it though, she'd find some way to make me. She's just trying to protect me and Henry.'

Mary Margaret considered this for a moment, her lips gently pursing and then relaxing again. Eventually she said, 'But… if you leave, who will protect her?'

Emma's heart jolted.

'No one,' she said quietly. 'She hasn't got anyone else.'

'It's very noble of her,' Mary Margaret conceded. 'And it's nice to see that she's putting not only Henry's best interests, but yours too, ahead of her own. But I can't help but feel it's not really a solution to the problem.'

'I can't help but agree with you,' Emma sighed. 'She thinks that she's giving us our best chance. But it's not that simple. No one will be happy this way – but if I go back on my promise, then it'll be like I've betrayed her. I don't know how I can win this.'

Yet again, Mary Margaret fell silent, considering the question. 'Is there anything you can do to make her see that you're trying to protect her? Anyone would understand why you promised to leave when she asked you to – like you said, she is very persuasive. Plus it's not like you expect it to actually be necessary.' She took a breath, examining Emma's face closely. 'Regina is… insecure. She doesn't know how to love well, and she's probably never been loved well before either. Maybe you just need to show her that you're willing to do whatever you can to give her her best chance.'

Emma blinked. 'Do you think?'

'Actions speak louder than words,' Mary Margaret said. 'And Regina certainly seems to be the type of person who likes getting things done, rather than just talking about them.'

For a moment, it was easy to forget that Mary Margaret didn't remember growing up with Regina. She didn't remember living with her for the best part of her life, or even being friends with her once upon a time. To Mary Margaret, Regina was simply Mayor Mills – but Emma knew that she understood her. She knew her. Mary Margaret just didn't realise quite how much.

'You're right,' Emma murmured, looking down at the glass in her steady hand. 'She doesn't believe that I'd want to stay with her because she doesn't believe that anyone would want to stay with her. She… she can't see herself the way that I see her.'

Mary Margaret smiled sadly. 'You really do love her.'

'I know,' Emma sighed, smiling back. 'Crazy, isn't it?'

'Crazy, sure,' Mary Margaret said, reaching out to grasp Emma's hand. 'But I'm so pleased for you, Emma. And for Henry. If you're happy, then I'm happy for you.'

A lump formed in Emma's throat so abruptly that she was suddenly certain that she was about to cry. As the ridiculousness of the situation once again struck her, she choked out on the cusp of a smile, 'Thanks, Mom.'

Mary Margaret grinned back at her, oblivious to the knife that was twisting against the inside of Emma's chest. 'No problem, honey. And remember to bring her round for dinner one day – I want to get to know my daughter-in-law.'

Regina glanced up as the kitchen door swung open. She had heard Emma walking into the house using the key that Regina had had cut for her, followed by the thud of her dropping her enormous bag to the floor and saying hello to Henry, who was doing his homework at the coffee table. Butterflies tickled at her stomach at every sound – even now, after all these months. As the door opened, she felt herself brighten.

'You're late,' Regina said, taking in Emma's flustered expression with a smile. 'Is everything okay?'

'In a sense,' Emma sighed, hurrying across the kitchen to press a kiss against Regina's cheek. She smelled of red wine and home cooking. 'You look great.'

Regina glanced down at her pressed white shirt and black pants. 'Your standards are as low as ever, Miss Swan.'

'And your self-deprecation is as infuriating as ever,' Emma said, nudging Regina's hip with her own. 'Really. You look incredible.'

She watched with some amusement as a blush spread across Regina's cheeks. Regina turned her head, trying to hide her embarrassed smile.

'Thank you,' she muttered, reaching out for her glass of wine. Emma was still beaming at her when she turned back.

'Did you stay late at work today?' Regina asked, nodding towards the clock on the wall. Emma normally arrived at around 5:30, at it was closing in on seven o'clock.

'No,' Emma said, hoisting herself up onto the counter so that she could dangle her legs. As always, Regina glared at her for doing so. As always, Emma grinned and ignored her. 'I went back to my apartment.'

'To get some more clothes?'

'Mm.'

'That took a while,' Regina said, sipping her wine. 'How much did you bring, exactly?'

'I told Mary Margaret.'

The words slipped out of Emma's mouth so offhandedly that for a moment, Regina thought that she must be joking. When she looked up and saw that Emma was watching her worriedly, probably waiting for an explosion of some kind, Regina blinked, taking her wine glass away from her lips.

'You told her what?' she asked slowly.

'About us,' Emma said, biting her lip. 'About me and you.'

'I see,' Regina said, feeling her mouth go dry. There was a lengthy pause before she forced herself to smile. 'So you came out to your mother.'

They both knew that she was trying to make a joke, but there was too much sadness in her smile for it to carry. Emma automatically reached out and took Regina's free hand, pulling her closer.

'She already knew.'

'How could she possibly know?'

Emma sighed. 'Apparently she knows me better than I thought she did. She said that she's had a clue for a while.'

Regina's perfectly straight teeth were nervously prodding at her plum-coloured lips. 'Well. That's… unexpected.'

Silence fell once more, and Regina's eyes slid away from Emma's. There were a hundred emotions ricocheting across Regina's face, and the most obvious one was fear.

'Regina,' Emma said quietly, tilting her head to one side. 'Please don't look so sad.'

'I'm not—'

'Yes you are,' Emma interrupted gently. 'You know, you haven't even asked me how it went.'

Regina raised an eyebrow at that. 'How it went?'

'I didn't come skulking in here with an eviction notice and a black eye,' Emma said. 'Ask me what happened.'

'Fine,' Regina snapped. 'What happened?'

'She said she's happy for us.'

Regina snorted. 'Yeah. Okay.'

'I'm being serious. We talked about it, and although she was obviously a bit confused as to how the hell this happened, she said that she's happy. For both of us. She said that she's noticed that we are both much easier people to be around since this started.' Emma paused, her smile dropping. 'Apart from the fact that I haven't really been around her at all.'

Finally, Regina stopped pouting and returned Emma's hand squeeze. 'That's not your fault.'

'Well, it is,' Emma shrugged. 'I've been deliberately avoiding her.'

'But only because you found out the truth about who she is,' Regina said quietly. 'As usual, dear, this is my fault.'

It was a conversation that they'd had too many times before, and so Emma simply raised an eyebrow at the woman stood in front of her.

'Do you feel better now that she knows?' Regina asked after a moment. Emma considered it.

'Sort of,' she admitted. 'It's scary, because it's one more person who knows and that means we're one person closer to everyone knowing. But I'm still relieved. It could have gone pretty badly, and it didn't, and I guess I feel a bit… closer to her again.'

Against all odds, Regina felt a warm bubble of relief swell inside her. 'Oh, Emma. That's really good to hear.'

'Yeah,' Emma said, looking down at her dangling feet. 'I mean, it's only the start – it's one thing for my roommate to be happy about this, but mommy dearest might have a different opinion.'

Regina laughed. 'Mommy dearest's true love is married to another woman. I'm not sure her opinion on me will carry much weight.'

'Careful, Regina,' Emma smirked. 'That's my father you're talking about.'

Regina smiled back at her, brushing one hand lightly against Emma's knee. 'My apologies, Miss Swan. Now will you please get off of my counter before you leave a dent in it?'

As they got ready for bed that night, Emma let herself watch Regina as she moved around the room. They'd fallen into a routine together, one that they'd never discussed: Regina slept on the right and Emma slept on the left. Regina was always the little spoon as they were falling asleep, but during the night, their positions would switch. Regina talked in her sleep, and Emma wasn't allowed to mention it. Emma woke up most nights crying and reaching for the light switch, and Regina would help her fall back to sleep again.

As Regina padded across the cream-coloured carpet in her short, black nightdress, Emma's eyes followed her. The mayor's face was scrubbed clean of make up and her skin was dewy and shimmering from the hideously expensive moisturiser that she smeared on every evening. Emma glanced down at herself – at her bare legs and black socks and ratty old t-shirt with Welcome to Tallahassee! splashed across it – and almost laughed.

'Are you planning on actually getting ready for bed at some point?' Regina called from the closet, where she was hanging up her white shirt. 'You know that if you try and get into that bed without taking off your mascara first, you may be subject to grievous bodily harm.'

Emma laughed, reaching up to remove the hair tie that had been holding her curls in a ponytail. As her hair fell back around her shoulders, she said, 'That only happened once.'

'Try four times,' Regina said, shutting the closet doors. 'I remember them vividly.'

Emma smirked, not moving from her position on the edge of Regina's enormous bed. She leaned back on her hands, swinging one leg off of the mattress with the other folded beneath her.

'You know, we've lasted longer than I thought we would.'

Regina looked up, her expression momentarily panicked. When she saw that Emma was smiling at her, her tensed muscles to relax slightly.

'Me too,' she admitted, slowly folding a tank top. 'I really did think this would just fade out once…'

She swallowed, not meeting Emma's gaze.

'…once you'd gotten better.'

Emma blinked. 'Yeah, I guess I can understand that. But you're not just some passing fling, Regina. You've never been that to me.'

At once, Regina's expression got warmer. 'No?'

'Absolutely not,' Emma's voice was firm, but she was smiling. 'Even before we got together, I never could have forgotten you. You're the most intensely memorable person I've ever met.'

Regina grabbed the tank top that she'd just carefully folded and threw it at Emma. She'd been aiming for her head, but Emma caught it easily.

'Charming.'

'I'm serious,' Emma said, starting to refold the shirt. She took a deep breath. 'You were the only person who could really help me after what Moe did. You were the only person who tried to. Everyone else tiptoed around me and acted like all I needed was space, but you were the only person who was stubborn enough to bring me closer and refuse to let me go again. Even if the romantic side of our relationship had gradually faded away, you wouldn't have. We would be friends now, Regina. I'm just so glad we're more than that.'

Regina approached the opposite side of the bed, her eyes sparkling and hopeful. 'You are?'

'I am,' Emma affirmed. 'You really are the best thing that's ever happened to me.'

Regina swallowed against the lump in her throat. She slowly lowered herself onto the the bed, still partially facing away.

'Well,' she muttered, closing her eyes. 'With the exception of the 11-year-old who brought us together – you're the best thing that's happened to me too. I…'

Her voice wobbled, and she took a deep breath to steady herself again.

'…I really don't know what I'd do if I lost you.'

Something warm filled Emma up like honey, and she threw the tank top onto the plush seat at the foot of the bed, shuffling across the mattress until she was sitting cross-legged by Regina's side.

'I'm not going anywhere, Regina. I'm in this for the long haul.'

Regina smiled, reaching out for Emma's hand. 'Me too.'

'You mean that?'

Regina finally looked up: Emma's voice was suddenly serious, and her expression was questioning. She could feel how tightly Emma was holding onto her hand.

She squeezed back. 'Of course I do.'

'Because…' Emma swallowed, her chest seizing. 'I can't imagine leaving you. Under any circumstances.'

Regina's eyes narrowed, and immediately she knew what she was referring to. 'You did promise, Emma.'

'I know I did,' Emma sighed. 'But I'm allowed to have second thoughts, aren't I?'

She watched as Regina's lips pursed. 'I suppose so. But—'

'Regina, please just listen to me for a moment,' Emma said. 'I love you. I love you more than I've ever loved anything or anyone. And while I understand your reasoning, however self-destructive it may be – I'm not sure I could force myself to pack up all my things and take Henry and drag him away from you and maybe never come back. It's just… I'm not sure anything would be worth that.'

'But—'

'You're trying to protect me,' Emma interrupted, her voice soft. 'And I love you for that. But, please let me try and protect you too.'

'I don't need protecting,' Regina bristled. 'Or deserve it.'

'So you'll be fine all alone?' Emma asked, her eyebrows raised. 'You'll be happy?'

'I'll be happy knowing that you and Henry are safe. That's enough.'

A part of Emma knew that she was supposed to get angry then, but the resigned expression on Regina's face filled her with far too much sadness for her to even contemplate it. She reached out a hand and tentatively placed it against Regina's cheek.

'I love you,' she said firmly. 'I will always love you. And I can't be happy without you.'

When Regina didn't respond, Emma brushed her thumb lightly against her flushing cheek.

'I can't say goodbye to you, Regina. Please don't make me.'

The sincerity in her voice felt like a cut against Regina's skin. She reached up a hand to cover Emma's.

'We'll discuss it when the time comes,' she said. 'I just want you to be safe.'

It was such a desperately sweet thing to say that Emma found herself smiling. 'I'm safe with you.'

Regina saw the way her eyes shone as she said that. She shuffled closer, watching the way that Emma's lips were curving gently upwards.

'Do you know how beautiful you are when you smile like that?'

Emma blushed at once. 'I am not.'

'You are,' Regina murmured, reaching out a hand. She brushed one finger against the creases by Emma's mouth. 'You get these very kissable dimples.'

Emma tilted her head to one side. 'I didn't realise you'd had that much wine at dinner.'

'Take the compliment, Emma,' Regina said shortly, leaning forwards to kiss the spot where her thumb had just been teasing. She could feel Emma's smile growing against her touch.

Regina moved her head upwards, letting her mouth pepper kisses along the curve of Emma's cheekbones. 'I love these, too.'

She felt Emma's exhale of breath against her neck; a movement that was half self-conscious laughter and half anticipation.

'And these,' Regina continued as her mouth carried on upwards, reaching the gentle creases by Emma's left eye. She kissed them softly, and then switched to the other side of her face. It was the side where Emma's scar was, and immediately she felt her tense up.

Regina shuffled closer, taking Emma's face in her hands and kissing that dull, grey scar as softly as she could. Emma's eyes closed, and her hands reached out to rest on the tops of Regina's thighs. When Regina's mouth moved away from her temple, Emma sighed.

'And these,' Regina repeated, her lips teasing at the shell of Emma's ear. As she shifted downwards and let her tongue flick against her earlobe, Regina felt Emma's nails dig into her leg. She grinned to herself, gently tugging Emma's ear between her teeth, relishing her long and desperate sigh.

'What else?' Emma quietly asked, her eyes closed and her face pressed against Regina's neck. She mewed with disappointment when Regina released her ear and pulled away, taking Emma's face back in her hands. She waited until Emma was looking at her again, her smile now gone but her eyes suddenly glossier.

Regina looked down at her lips. 'Smile for me again. I suddenly can't remember.'

Emma grinned automatically, torn between impatience and amusement. Her whole face lit up when she smiled like that – genuinely and unguardedly – and Regina felt her stomach do a turn.

'This,' she said, placing one thumb on Emma's bottom lip. 'I love seeing this mouth smiling at me. It changes your whole face.'

'Does my face need changing?' Emma asked, still smiling playfully. But Regina's grin slipped, replaced by a look that was so piercing and sincere that it made Emma's heart stop.

'Never,' Regina murmured, her eyes flicking from Emma's lips to her eyes and back again. 'Not a single part of you.'

Emma swallowed, reaching one hand out so that she could slide it beneath Regina's hair. As soon as she felt the pressure of Emma's fingers on the back of her neck, Regina leaned forward, pressing their lips together with a gentle sigh.

Emma's other hand slipped up and found its place at Regina's nape, holding on as tightly as possible, pulling Regina flush against her body. At once Regina nudged her forwards, pushing her down onto the bed so that she could climb on top of her, straddling Emma's waist with her nightdress riding up around her thighs. Emma never let go of her neck, never opened her eyes – she just kept kissing her, moaning as their tongues collided, letting her hips lift up from the mattress as she felt the pressure of Regina coming down on her.

Regina heard herself sigh into Emma's mouth. Her hair was tumbling forwards, falling into both of their faces, and Emma reached up to push it back for her. Her green eyes were suddenly wide and unblinking, and she looked up at the woman on top of her like she'd never seen her properly before. She rubbed one thumb gently against Regina's temple, their lips only inches away from each other.

'You are so beautiful,' Emma whispered, that smile that Regina loved so much flashing back for only a second before it was kissed away again. Regina poured herself into that kiss, pressing her body against Emma's, letting her tongue slide as deep into her mouth as it could go and feeling the muscles between her legs squeezing when Emma groaned in response. Hands were at her waist, clawing against the silky material that was covering her body, but they didn't try and remove it. Sometimes moments like this were frantic and urgent, and clothes were torn off as the impatience between them grew into a near insanity – but sometimes the torture was perfect, and the feeling of not quite touching yet made everything maddeningly better. Emma lifted her hips once again, relishing the feeling of her own panties getting wetter with every movement, and felt Regina smile against her lips.

Regina's hands slid up, removing Emma's from the sides of her face and pinning them down into the mattress. She ground her pussy slowly against Emma's abdomen, not opening her eyes, not for a second tearing her lips away from Emma's gently whimpering mouth. She could feel that steady pulsing in her clit growing stronger and more erratic, matching the frantic pounding in her chest beat for beat, and she rolled her hips forward once more. Emma wriggled her fingers beneath Regina's grip, pulling slightly, like she was trying to break free. They both knew that she was only doing it so that Regina would hold on tighter. When she did exactly that, Emma threw her head back and moaned, finally tearing her mouth away, and in that second Regina trailed her lips downwards, covering the column of Emma's neck in soft, wet kisses that made both of their toes curl.

Regina finally released Emma's fingers when she reached the neckline of her shirt. With both hands, she pulled the collar downwards and dragged her tongue slowly along the jut of Emma's clavicle, relishing every shudder that jolted through the body beneath hers. Emma's hands found their way back into Regina's hair, holding it back from her face as she buried herself in Emma's neck once more, gently nipping the delicate skin, leaving marks that would only last the night.

Emma arched her body off of the bed when Regina travelled further south, reaching the bottom of her shirt and pushing it roughly upwards so that she could press her mouth hotly against the taut muscles of her stomach. She could feel them tensing against her lips as she moved upwards, dragging her tongue from Emma's navel up to her sternum, her hands sliding up underneath Emma's shirt. They reached her breasts and squeezed, coaxing another soft moan from her mouth. Regina bit her lip and looked up to find that Emma's eyes were staring desperately down at her.

Emma forced herself up onto her elbows, reaching out one hand for the back of Regina's neck, and pulled her back towards her for a kiss that was gentle and formidable all at once.

With her hands slowly kneading at Emma's breasts, Regina pushed her back down against the mattress, sitting upright on top of her. She looked down at the woman below her: Emma's hair was spread out in a halo around her, her old t-shirt was pushed up around her chest, her breasts were exposed and heaving beneath Regina's hands. She had a familiar flush in her cheeks that made Regina's knees go weak. When Regina gently caught her nipples between her thumb and forefinger, Emma's eyes snapped shut automatically, her upper body rising off of the mattress in a curve.

Regina fell forwards and let her mouth replace one of her hands, slowly dragging her tongue over Emma's stiff nipple. Emma was wriggling beneath her, her hands in Regina's hair, holding her in place as she brought up her body to meet Regina's delving tongue. Her pulse was thundering in her ears as she felt Regina's lips close around her nipple, sucking it into her mouth, and she let out a moan that surprised even her. Her whole body arched up, her panties wet and sticking to her pussy, and suddenly she pushed Regina away from her, knocking her onto the mattress.

The satisfied grin that spread across Regina's face was as infuriating as it was delicious: they both knew that Regina was better at this game. She could give the torture just as well as she could take it, and it was always Emma who got impatient first, giving in to the almost painful drumming feeling between her legs. Regina watched as Emma clambered on top of her, reaching back for a second to peel off her socks before grabbing the bottom of her shirt and tugging it off of her body. Regina pushed herself up onto her elbows, watching as Emma's breasts bounced slightly with the movement. Then she reached down to the bottom of her nightdress, ready to follow suit and take that off too.

'No,' Emma said, catching her wrist. 'Leave that on.'

Regina looked down at the item in question: it was short and black, part lace and part silk. It wasn't her nicest, or even her newest, but Emma was staring down at it like she wanted to wrap herself in it and let it smother her.

'Really?' Regina asked, raising one eyebrow. Emma nodded.

'However,' she said, suddenly sliding backwards and climbing off the bed altogether. Regina watched her in bemusement, the lower halves of her legs dangling off of the mattress. Emma stood between them and leaned forwards, letting her fingers trail up the fronts of Regina's thighs. She pushed the silk of her nightdress up, exposing the sheer fabric of her panties, and smirked. 'These are allowed to come off.'

And without another word, she tugged them straight down Regina's legs, tossing them over her shoulder. Regina blinked – somehow, with the soaked fabric of her panties gone, her cunt felt even wetter. Emma's eyes settled on it, her teeth buried in her lower lip.

'What do you want me to do to you?' she murmured, and Regina heard herself groan. She collapsed back onto the bed, her mouth suddenly dry.

'Eat me,' she murmured, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. 'Please.'

At once Emma fell to her knees beside the bed. She slid a hand around either of Regina's thighs and tugged her abruptly forwards, bringing her pussy to the very edge of the mattress. Regina felt her nightdress ride upwards with the movement, settling in a band just underneath her breasts.

'Whatever Your Majesty wishes,' Emma whispered. Regina swallowed, her eyes fluttering shut and her breathing suddenly ragged, as she felt Emma's grip on her thighs tighten. Then there was the unmistakable feeling of Emma's steady breath on her exposed pussy.

The wait was agonising. When Emma eventually flicked out her tongue and dragged it upwards along Regina's slit, Regina felt her whole body buckle.

Emma moved slower than she normally did. She languidly dragged her tongue in upwards strokes, pausing whenever she reached Regina's clit so that she could press down on it. Then she would release it and return to her starting position, letting her tongue delve into Regina's cunt for just a moment before drawing it upwards again.

After two minutes of this process, Regina's hands were buried in Emma's hair and her feet were curling against the edge of the mattress. She ground her cunt forwards, trying to gain some more friction, but it seemed oddly futile: Emma was taking her sweet time, and she was enjoying it, and it seemed that no matter how many incoherent begging noises slipped from Regina's mouth, Emma wasn't going to fuck her until she was good and ready.

Eventually she released one of Regina's thighs and positioned her free hand beneath her chin, letting one finger rest at the entrance to Regina's pussy. Regina felt it at once, and it was all she could do not to rock her body forwards, just to try and get a centimetre of traction. She had never wanted to be fucked, to be completely and utterly filled, so badly before in her entire life, and she knew that Emma knew that. She could feel the satisfaction radiating off of her as she gently teased that finger against her entrance.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Emma locked her lips around Regina's pounding clit and began to suck on it. Regina's whole body arched off of the bed, her fingers digging into Emma's scalp with so much ferocity that she felt the hairs snap, and in that moment of distraction, Emma slid two fingers slowly inside.

The garbled, frantic whimpers that began to cascade from Regina's lips were the most deliciously satisfying noises that Emma had ever heard. She grinned against Regina's pussy, letting her tongue swirl around her throbbing clit, over and over again until her jaw started to ache, and pumped her fingers in and out, gradually building up speed. Regina began to rock against her, one hand still tangled in Emma's hair and the other furiously fisted in the sheets. Her body bowed upwards, almost pulling her away from Emma's mouth, but Emma's firm grip around her thigh kept her in place, and it didn't take long before Regina's quiet whimpers turned into low, drawn-out moans.

'Regina,' Emma murmured against her skin, and the vibration of her voice nearly drove Regina over the edge. 'Henry is down the hall.'

'I… can't… help… it.'

Emma grinned. 'Try.'

Then she sucked on Regina's clit – hard – and a noise that was almost a howl slipped out of Regina's mouth.

She threw her own arm over her face, biting down to try and smother her own cries, and that familiar weightlessness in all of her limbs started to take over. Emma brought her higher than she'd ever been before, tormenting her to a state where she was sure, absolutely certain, that she must have come by now, because all of her muscles were locked so tightly that she couldn't move and she could feel her own wetness slicking down to Emma's wrist. She was digging her teeth so sharply into her own arm that she was close to drawing blood and if anyone had asked her then what her own son's name was, there wasn't even a chance that she could have remembered.

And just as she was sure that she was about to black out, Emma slipped a third finger inside of her and wrapped her lips tightly around Regina's clit. When she sucked, simultaneously swirling her tongue around it, Regina's body finally broke, letting her come with such a ferocity that she was certain she must have screamed.

It took what felt like hours to come back down again. She could feel Emma between her legs, holding her in place, her fingers completely still inside her until she was sure that she could pull them out again without bringing Regina to tears. She looked up at the woman lying before her: her chest was glistening with sweat and was heaving rapidly up and down, and as she threw her arm out across the bed, Emma could see fierce teeth marks in her wrist. She could hear her trying to catch her breath.

'Regina?' she asked, grinning. 'You okay?'

For her concerns, she received a middle finger thrust in the air. Emma laughed, finally pulling her fingers out of Regina and ignoring her whimpered protest at the sudden movement.

As Regina tried to blink herself back into reality, she felt Emma crawling onto the bed, retaking her position on top of Regina's waist. She looked up at her, and saw with a delicious twist of her stomach that Emma was slowly licking her fingers.

'That was incredible,' she forced out breathlessly. She never took her eyes off of Emma's mouth.

'You're incredible,' Emma replied. She was smiling still, but her words were serious. It made Regina's insides melt.

'Come here,' Regina said softly. 'Kiss me.'

Emma crawled forwards at once, laying her upper body on top of Regina's. She could feel her pulse pounding against her rib cage as she lowered herself down.

She bent her head to meet Regina's lips and kissed her, sliding her tongue deep into her mouth. As Regina's moved around it, Emma felt the pulsing in her clit growing stronger.

She pulled away, pushing Regina's hair away from her hot face. 'Do you see how good you taste?'

Regina's eyes were still on her mouth. 'Not as good as you do.'

'Oh?' Emma raised an eyebrow. Without thinking, she reached down between their bodies, sliding her hand into her black panties and sinking it into the wetness there. As her fingers brushed against her swollen clit, she felt her knees go weak, but she forced herself to pull her hand free and bring it up to her mouth.

Regina watched, her chocolate eyes wide and melting, as Emma slipped her fingers between her own lips.

'I have to say,' Emma murmured thoughtfully, 'that I disagree.'

Regina moaned almost at once, pushing herself off of the bed and rolling Emma underneath her.

'Take those off,' she said in her lowest voice, trailing her fingers over Emma's panties, 'and do that again.'

Emma swallowed. The playfulness had gone from Regina's voice and had been replaced by something entirely different. Something deeper, and more uncompromising.

Emma felt her cunt throb, a new wave of wetness seeping from it.

'Take them off for me,' she said, and Regina immediately obliged, sitting herself up and tugging Emma's black thong from her body. She tossed it onto the ground, before she pulled off her own nightdress and threw it on the floor beside it.

She lowered herself back onto the bed, propping herself up on one elbow as she stretched out next to Emma. She reached out a hand and began to trail it lightly over Emma's stomach.

'Now,' she said. 'Do it again.'

Every now and then, without warning, a flash of something that Emma could only assume was the Evil Queen would cross Regina's face. Her voice would get deeper, and her eyes darker, and she would speak a command like she expected it to be followed at once, and without question. Whenever that happened, Emma would have a momentary realisation of knowing that she was meant to be scared, or even repulsed. But it never happened.

God, it turned her on.

Without thinking, and without taking her eyes away from Regina's, she reached down and slid her hand between her legs. Her body automatically quivered as she realised just how wet she was.

She wanted Regina to touch her. Regina knew that she wanted her to touch her. But she waited, just inches away, leisurely tracing a single finger over Emma's abdomen, watching her face instead of her hand. Emma pulled her fingers free and let them graze over her swollen clit, whimpering slightly at the contact, and she saw something flicker in Regina's eyes. She pressed harder on her clit and let her hips rock forwards, her whole body drawn towards that one small, sharp centre. But it wasn't enough. There was only one person who could touch her properly then.

'Keep going.'

Emma whined in disappointment, but she did as she was told. She sunk two fingers back into her cunt, shivering as they plunged deep into her – but not as deep as she needed. It was fucking infuriating. She drew them back out and pushed them back in again, and her whole body started to tremble. Regina reached out and gently pushed the sweaty hair away from her forehead, her face maddeningly impassive.

'Is that good?' she asked quietly. Emma nearly sobbed.

'No.'

'No?'

'I want you,' Emma bit out, her hips rolling against the bed. Her fingers kept working against her cunt as she spoke, and every word ended in a desperate crescendo, but none of this was enough for her. Regina was right next to her and her perfect breasts and her expert hands were only inches away and it was too far, too fucking far.

'Tell me what you want,' Regina asked. The coolness, the absolute indifference, in her voice nearly drove Emma over the edge. She glanced down, and she could see that Regina was squeezing her thighs together – this was affecting her just as much as it was Emma. Regina was just much better at hiding it.

Emma groaned, throwing her head back, her fingers working furiously against her clit. 'I… I don't know.'

'You don't know?'

For once, she didn't. Something had changed, and Emma could feel a need burning inside her that she'd never felt before. Maybe it was Regina's dark, almost cold gaze, or maybe it was the relief of having finally spoken to her mother earlier that evening, but something had snapped inside her. She didn't know what she wanted, but she knew that she wanted it to be more.

'Just… fuck me. Touch me. Do something. Please.'

Emma's eyes were closed, and her breathing was rapid, and when Regina glanced down, she saw her fingers moving impossibly fast. They were shining from Emma's wetness, and her stomach turned over with desperation.

But she swallowed it down. She grabbed Emma's wrist and, ignoring her wail of displeasure, forced her to stop.

'Emma.'

Emma's eyes snapped open and found Regina watching her, waiting patiently.

'What?' she murmured, tears tugging at the edge of the word.

'I'd like for you to get on your knees now, please.'

Emma blinked, momentarily confused, and then did as she was told. She crawled into the very centre of the bed and propped herself up on her slightly shaky knees, facing the headboard. Her hands rested nervously on her stomach.

She heard Regina get off of the bed and start moving around behind her. Every footstep made her muscles clench.

'Do you trust me, Emma?'

Oh, God…

'Yes.'

'You're sure?'

'Positive.'

A drawer opened, and then closed.

'Excellent,' Regina said, her voice cool. It reminded Emma of every single conversation they had had right up until that day in City Hall, and she was surprised by how arousing she found that. She swallowed, closing her eyes, as Regina continued. 'I want to try something.'

Emma nodded. 'Okay.'

'You have to promise to tell me if you don't like it.'

'I will,' Emma said, taking a deep breath, already certain that that wouldn't be a problem. 'I promise.'

'Good girl,' Regina said, and a sudden wetness flooded from Emma's cunt. Part of her was disgusted at herself – she knew she shouldn't react that way to this kind of praise. She knew that Regina was being deliberately goading, treating her the same way that she had once done, months ago, before they had really gotten to know each other. But she also knew that Regina was doing everything entirely on purpose, and she wouldn't be attempting this now, right at that moment, if Emma wasn't being entirely receptive to it. She'd probably had this surprise ready for months, and she'd been waiting for the right time to try it.

Emma felt the mattress dip, and she knew that Regina had clambered back onto the bed. A sudden warmth against her back told her how close she was.

'Close your eyes,' Regina said, and Emma did as she was told. A moment later, something slipped over her face. She felt the fabric being tied into a knot at the back of her head.

'Is this okay?' Regina asked, and Emma heard a tremor of worry in her voice. Somehow, it only reassured her – Regina knew that Emma might be scared of being blindfolded. She knew she was afraid of the dark now. And the very fact that she was asking, and checking, and making sure that Emma was at ease, made Emma feel safer than she'd ever felt before.

'It's good.'

'You're sure?'

Emma reached out behind her so she could grab Regina's hip and squeeze it gently. 'I'm positive.'

Regina swallowed, and the vanilla smell of Emma's hair filled her nostrils.

'Good,' she said, climbing off of the bed once more. 'Then get on your hands and knees.'

She was surprised by how quickly Emma did as she was told. Standing across the room, Regina drank her in – she'd fucked Emma in this position before, and she'd loved every single second of it. But there was something about this – about the anticipation in the room; about the way that clearly Emma wanted something far more intense than she'd ever asked for before – that was different. Regina felt her cunt clench, and at the same time, she found herself smiling. Emma, meanwhile, waited. Not moving.

Regina reached back into the drawer.

There was a pause, and Emma strained her ears, trying to work out what was happening. She heard a snapping sound, but other than that, Regina was quiet.

The near-silence filled her with another thought.

'Regina?' she asked.

'Hmm?'

'I don't want to kill the mood,' Emma said, blinking against the blindfold. 'But is the door locked?'

Regina's throaty laugh nearly made her come right then.

'Yes, Miss Swan,' she said, and the mattress dipped again. 'It is.'

She watched as Emma nodded, her curls slipping down across her shoulders.

Regina crawled across the bed, the sudden weight between her legs making her feel ridiculously self-conscious. In some ways, she was glad that Emma was blindfolded. In others, she wished that she could see, just so they could laugh about it together.

She positioned herself between Emma's legs, not quite touching her.

'Spread yourself a little wider, Miss Swan,' she said, and immediately Emma did as she was told. 'Very good.'

Emma moaned softly, and they both heard it. She felt her face flush – she knew what Regina had back there. She also knew that she would never be able to hear the words 'Miss Swan' uttered again without wanting to rip her own clothes off.

Regina's hand slipped suddenly between her legs and, when she felt just how wet Emma was, she sighed out loud.

'I specially bought this,' Regina said, and Emma heard the pump of a bottle. 'But I'm not even sure that I need it.'

Nonetheless, she began to slick the lube onto the strap-on, as slowly and leisurely as she could. She could see Emma's legs beginning to tremble. Her head was hanging down, her blonde curls dripping onto the bed like rain, but she didn't move a muscle. It was the first time that Emma had actually done what she was told.

Regina took the hand that now had lube smeared over it and placed it between Emma's legs, gliding it over her soaking wet pussy. At once, Emma shuddered, her shoulders dipping a little.

'Do you want me to fuck you, Miss Swan?'

Emma nodded immediately. Her cunt was throbbing and she could feel her tears starting to seep into the black fabric wrapped around her eyes. There was a tiny space she could see out of, right at the bridge of her nose, but all that she could see was the rumpled cotton sheet beneath her. The fact that Regina was utterly invisible to her was so simultaneously arousing and irritating that she nearly screamed.

Regina's fingers began moving in and out of her pussy, slowly and deliberately pressing against that soft, spongy spot deep inside her that made every muscle in her body go loose and tight at the same time.

'I'd like you to say it,' Regina said, twisting her hand so that her pinkie finger could graze over Emma's clit. She watched with some perverse interest as Emma's back buckled, her thighs quivering.

'Fuck me,' Emma said, her voice trembling. 'Please.'

Regina smirked, pulling her fingers free and reaching out to rub the flat of her palm against Emma's clit.

'Say it again.'

Emma moaned, her head dropping further. Her arms began to shake.

'Regina. Please.'

Regina suddenly removed her hand and brought it sharply back down, slapping it against Emma's wet pussy. Emma tasted blood as she bit down on her lip, forcing herself to not shout out.

When the shock had subsided slightly, she took a breath, fighting against the feeling of Regina slowly, torturously rolling her fingers against her clit.

'Please fuck me,' she said, squeezing her eyes shut.

Regina's hand disappeared again. Emma braced herself for another blow.

Instead, there was complete silence. Then the sudden, unexpected surge of something being pushed inside her.

Regina slid the strap-on into Emma's pussy, watching as she arched her body, throwing her head back in surprise. A low moan escaped from her lips. When the full length of it was inside her, Regina slowly pulled it back out again, letting its tip linger just outside of Emma's entrance before she abruptly pushed it back in again.

Emma's arms finally collapsed and she fell down to the bed, her fingers curling around the sheets. It had been so very, very long since she'd felt something like this – the sensation of being entirely full, entirely fucked, with her ass pushed high into the air and a hand on either side of it.

The last time she'd been fucked like this, it had been with a man she'd met in a bar in Boston. She couldn't remember what his name was – she wasn't sure that she'd even asked. She'd taken him home and let him pin her down and fuck her, and she'd enjoyed it, because she had desperately needed the raw, screaming feeling of coming with someone buried deep inside of her. But this was different: she knew the person who was behind her, and she knew that Regina was reading her reactions better than anyone else ever had. She couldn't feel a strange pair of testicles slapping against her body, and she wasn't partially preoccupied wondering whether the guy was about to come without telling her, leaving her to finish herself off later. Instead, all she could feel was Regina's hands against her hips, her nails leaving grooves in her skin, and the smooth plastic sliding into her. She could hear Regina's steady breathing, letting her know that she was right there, doing this entirely for her.

She couldn't see anything, but she knew exactly what expression was etched onto Regina's face: at first it was a smirk, so pleased with herself for making Emma moan this way. Then it was awe – absolute wonderment, that she was the one allowed to touch Emma in the first place.

Emma lifted her ass higher and buried her head in the sheets, biting down on whatever she could find – her lip, the duvet, she didn't care. Regina was beginning to move faster, reaching one hand out to drag her nails along the curve of Emma's spine, and a shiver filled her body with vibrations that were so strong they nearly made her cry. That familiar release was building inside her, growing from deep within her stomach and spreading outwards towards her tingling fingers, and Emma tugged the sheets towards her, burying her face in the mess she'd made, waiting for her body to lift off of the ground and float away entirely.

Regina's hand slipped around to her front and pressed down against her pounding clit, and that was all it took. She felt herself coming as Regina slid herself back into her, and her legs finally gave way, dragging her down onto the bed and taking Regina with her.

Her whole body was still trembling when Regina pulled out, reaching up to untie the scarf that was tied around her eyes. She could still see stars long after she adjusted the bright light.

Regina was there, waiting for her, like she always was. She was perched nervously on her knees, watching as Emma turned herself over from her stomach with mascara smudged under her eyes.

Regina swallowed. 'Was that okay?'

Forcing herself up onto one arm, Emma reached out and grabbed the back of Regina's neck, pulling her into a hot, frantic kiss. She could feel Regina smiling against her lips.

'Regina,' she said, trying to force the breath back into her body. She shakily sat herself back up. 'That was… amazing.'

Regina smiled, then glanced down at the ridiculous contraption strapped between her legs. 'I've never felt sexier.'

Emma laughed, throwing herself forwards so that she could kiss her again, and again – the woman who she'd never expected to love, but, oh, who she'd ended up loving more than anything or anyone else in the world.

'You've never looked sexier, Madam Mayor.'

A contented blush spread across Regina's face, and her gaze dropped, uncharacteristically embarrassed.

'Thank you,' Emma said, reaching out a hand so that she could cup Regina's cheek. Regina smiled.

'You're welcome.'

After a beat, Emma said, 'Please don't tell me you got that from Mr Gold's shop.'

Regina immediately squawked with repulsion, pushing Emma back down onto the bed and covering them both with a sheet as she fell down on top of her. 'You are disgusting.'

Emma smirked, looking up at the woman leaning over her. 'I think you bring it out in me.'

There was another pause, and Emma said in her softest voice, 'I love you, Regina.'

Regina blushed yet again, stroking her hand against the side of Emma's face.

'I love you too.'

She was gently pushing the damp blonde hair away from Emma's forehead when she suddenly flinched away from her. The skin beneath Regina's hand had turned hot and sharp, burning under her fingertips, and a startled cry escaped from Emma's lips. She bolted upright in bed, pressing her own hand against the singed skin, rubbing furiously.

'Oh,' Regina gasped, the colour draining from her face as she snatched her hand away, pulling it close to her chest. She looked down at it, and for the first time white sparks were dancing there, creeping over the surface of her skin like tiny spiders. She swallowed, clenching her fingers into a fist.

As she went to pull away entirely – to crawl back off of the bed and rush into the bathroom – Emma suddenly grabbed her wrist, bringing her back.

'It's okay,' she said quietly. She wasn't even looking at Regina's hands – her eyes were fixed firmly on Regina's worried brown eyes. 'It's okay.'

Regina blinked, taking in the slight redness at the side of Emma's face, where her fingers had been resting just moments ago. 'I didn't…'

'I know,' Emma interrupted, her easy smile returning to her. She reached out, gently wrapping her fingers around both of Regina's wrists, and pulled her hands towards her. She looked down at them, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders.

For a moment the two women just watched in silence as the bright white sparks skittering over Regina's palms started to dim. Regina's throat tightened, and she waited for Emma's inevitable quip or attempt to break the tension. She could practically hear it: Well. I guess you could say that sparks are flying.

Another part of her, as it often did, simply waited for Emma to get up and leave.

But instead Emma slid her hands – somehow cool and steady – away from Regina's wrists, and wrapped her fingers firmly around Regina's. She covered those still-tingling palms with her own, holding on tightly, not letting go, no matter how much they burned her.