A/N: I debated doing this for a while as I've never been a fan of 'one year/ ten years/ whatever amount of time later' sections of books. (Read that as I cringed excessively while reading the final section of Harry Potter where everyone had married each other and was, *shudders* happy, but that might just be me!). That said, this was a hell of a time-consuming fic to write originally, and once it was done I really missed it. I actually ended up finding myself thinking about what would have happened quite a bit as I seemed to suffer from withdrawal symptoms with this one. So yes, writing this extra chapter was as much for me as any of you :) Hopefully, a little 'one year later' won't be too badly flamed :) I just figured that I finished the fic celebrating Christmas (eve), so why not celebrate it a year later? I tried to match the tone of the fic - without any drama, I was worried I'd then not be able to stop! - so this is equal parts smut and fluff; hopefully something for everyone!
Thanks so much to all of you that read Wet, and, thanks for putting up with me for one more! Happy Holidays :)
- Lisey x
Green eyes blink alert in the darkness; staring at the seemingly never-changing red display of the alarm clock.
5.45 AM
Fifteen more minutes.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Henry tosses and turns as he counts down in his head. A part of him is dimly aware that his being almost twelve would suggest his excitement for today shouldn't be quite so immense if books and films are to be believed... But then, his is a unique situation, and this is a unique town, and if today proves to be anything like last year, he has every right to be excited.
Creating a couple of shadow figures against the wall with the penlight the Sheriff had given him from her office for this very purpose, he forbids himself from looking at the clock until he's completed his full repertoire.
Mission accomplished, he glances back at scarlet digits and smiles.
5.56 am
Close enough.
He doesn't imagine he'll get into trouble for being four minutes early in waking up the others. Slipping from beneath the warmth of his covers, he pads towards the door and eases it open; peering down the hall and grinning as he spots three curiously shaped sacks piled against the posts of the landing. Bundling them under his arms, he slinks towards the door at the end of the hall and pushes it open before making his way to the large bed that centres the room and looking down with a smile.
The brunette wears a black, silk shirt - a Christmas present he'd given her a couple of years ago, in fact - and lies peacefully on her side with her hand draped lightly over the Sheriff. The blonde lies curled up tightly against her; her long hair obscuring her features, and the moonlight filtering in through partially drawn curtains catching the exposed flesh of her arm. At the very top of her bicep, the boy is just able to glimpse the curious circle of neat white scars that mark the flesh; a memento from a disastrous Wolf Moon last summer, and something which both she and the waitress find highly amusing in spite of the Mayor's disgruntled reminders of how badly things could have gone wrong.
Henry is inclined to side with Regina on this one - Emma having come home that balmy night ashen-faced and cradling her arm with her coat in tatters and smeared a sickly crimson - but there is still something to be said for his mother's best friend and colleague - and his frequent babysitter the other twenty-odd days of the month - being a werewolf.
It is by this same token that he doesn't think the fascination of living under the same roof as a sorceress and the Saviour will ever wear thin; the brunette having eventually decided to keep her status of Mayor, but spending most of her time working between the station and the hospital due to her ability to heal those injured in a way Whale can not, while the Sheriff and her lupine Deputy patrol the town with pockets full of various dusts, and crossbows slung over their backs rather than guns.
An obscure governing force, but one that has actually ended up serving the town quite nicely.
"Hey, mom... Moms... Get up!"
He murmurs as he shakes the brunette gently and climbs up to kneel over her so that dark eyes flutter open to find his nose an inch from her own.
"Henry!"
Regina sighs with mock annoyance, and the Sheriff groans as she pushes her face more firmly into the darkness of the Mayor's embrace and mumbles something about hours and how many more of them she'd like to sleep.
Both the brunette and her son grin at this, but, Regina imagines - hopes! - their reasoning is vastly different.
For Henry, she imagines the boy simply finds his mother's adolescent approach to mornings to be amusing.
For herself... Well... She knows a little more about why the Sheriff might find herself quite so exhausted, and she silently awards the younger woman a point for her suggestion made while lying panting and blissed out that they might be wise to locate the various items of sleepwear decorating the carpet.
"After all, it's Christmas in like-... Oh shit! Already!"
Emma had informed her, before grinning wickedly
"I loved my present..."
She'd yelped with a giggle when the brunette had climbed threateningly back on top of her, but the light sheen of sweat touching the Mayor's temples and sternum and her breathless chuckling had given her movements away as simple bluffing, for which - having retired to bed over an hour beforehand - they had both been slightly relieved.
Now, smiling up at Henry as the boy grins down at her with his hair sticking up this way and that after a hard round with his pillow, she addresses him pleasantly.
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart."
The brunet's smile widens, and he dumps the three sacks - makeshift stockings, as the Mayor had decided without consulting the others that after last year it just didn't sit right with her to have her own and Henry's matching, while the blonde's was so clearly an afterthought - onto the bed with a low giggle as Emma lets out a winded grunt, before finally pushing herself from the brunette's warmth and blinking up at their son sleepily.
"Christmas!?"
"Yeah!"
Henry crows with a small pump of his fist at the blonde's expense, and Regina chuckles as she watches the Sheriff feign irritation - badly - and the boy set things right as he leans over to appease the younger woman with a kiss on the cheek.
"Presents!"
Emma cheers, this time fully aware of how she sounds, and Henry fist-bumps the air dutifully once more as he climbs between the others to sit against the foot of the bed with his legs between theirs.
"Presents, and then one of you is getting in the shower while the other does Quimby and I get on with breakfast."
Regina informs them all in her familiar 'do as I say' tone that surprisingly goes obeyed more often than not since she's stopped using it to be snide.
No, in actual fact, it's a rarity that her requests have been met with an argument ever since Emma moved in, and on the few occasions when she will clash horns with the blonde, it's been nothing more than a difference of opinion and an eventual, patient conversation to get to the bottom of things, rather than the heated bickering favoured back when the younger woman had first came to town.
Quimby being the most recent subject for debate.
Henry had come to them early in March exclaiming his wish for a pet, and Emma had seconded him on this with similar enthusiasm. Eventually, puppies and kittens had been shot down due to their rather hectic schedule, but they had compromised - with a rather dubious brand of agreement on Regina's behalf - that they would allow the boy to pick out whatever else he wanted from the pet store.
Having sent him to pick out his new companion with Emma, the brunette had subsequently spent the next hour or so battling down fears of the Sheriff arriving home with some obscure beast or other and wearing that ever-present shit-eating grin that really does serve to get her what she wants most of the time.
"I wonder if they sell geckos... Oh! Or snakes!"
The blonde had teased while getting changed that fateful morning, and the Mayor had turned from her lazy combing of dark tresses to smack the back of her brush hard against the Saviour's bare behind.
In the end, the others had come home carrying a box - and the pieces to put together a large, wooden hutch piled in the trunk of the younger woman's car - housing a small, black and white Dutch dwarf rabbit nestled down amongst its wood shavings and blinking innocently up at the Mayor.
Innocent, until an evening of too much wine had ended up with Emma giggling beneath the brunette on the sofa - clad in just her bra and jeans as the last tinge of a burning summer sun had cast them both scarlet - and suggesting she might well have had a motive for anointing their newest family member with his obscure name; Henry having gone along with it happily, the same way as he does most of Emma's suggestions.
And, Regina gets it. The younger woman can be frighteningly persuasive if she wants something.
Quimby, though...
Well, pushing herself up off of Emma that summer's eve just enough to allow the younger woman to fiddle with her laptop and find a 'link' or whatever she'd called it, they'd found themselves watching an admittedly amusing cartoon plagued with strange yellow beings and a rather asinine character masquerading as Mayor.
"Bitch."
She'd snarled into soft flesh, and Emma's laughter had vibrated pleasantly against the cruel scrape of her teeth.
"I'll go do Quimby, Henry can shower first."
Emma offers now, and the boy nods as he begins to rip the paper off of the gifts in his stocking while the others do the same.
"Do you mind drying those last couple of bits and pieces, dear?"
Regina smiles as Henry leans against the kitchen counter with a glass of juice in his hand and his new scarf wrapped smartly beneath his chin.
"Sure. Shall I throw out that last pancake?"
"No, Emma will eat it once she's done in the bathroom."
She shakes her head, and she imagines the boy's responding laughter mirrors her own amusement as neither one of them had taken the blonde's "I'm never eating again!" with any real weight when she'd pushed herself from the table with a groan.
"Speaking of, I'd very much like to shower myself, and I'd like to do so under hot water..."
She grumbles as she casts her eyes up towards the ceiling where the low whine of the pipes creates a continuous hum.
"See if you can find something to listen to and get some hot chocolate on the stove. I'll go and tell Emma to stop messing around, and we'll do the presents under the tree when I come back down."
She smiles, ruffling the boy's hair, and he nods obediently as she stalks from the kitchen and makes quick work of the stairs.
"What the hell are you doing in there?!"
Regina demands as she lets herself into the bathroom without knocking, only to roll her eyes when she finds Emma standing idly beneath the spray of the shower, 'doing' very little.
"It's warm."
The blonde shrugs as her long hair gleams a drenched dark honey, and she keeps her lashes gently closed against the pouring water.
"Yes, well, I'd like to be able to enjoy that fact, also!"
The Mayor grumbles, and the younger woman shrugs once again with an evil smile as she suggests silkily
"So, join me."
Wetting her lips as she studies the blissfully unaware Sheriff, Regina takes a surreptitious step back and flips the latch to lock the door.
Ordinarily, when Henry's awake and in the house, she wouldn't take Emma up on her frequent blasé offers in much the same way as she's sure the blonde doesn't really mean them.
However...
Well, she imagines Henry's general pottering around when tasked with making them all drinks will buy them at least twenty minutes.
And it's Christmas.
Smirking as she keeps her attention trained on Emma, she removes her pyjamas swiftly before climbing into the shower with a low chuckle at the surprised yip she receives from the blonde who finally opens her eyes to regard her with equal parts shock and anticipation.
"Well, hey, what's a fine woman like you doing in a place like-ah!"
The Sheriff chokes as the Mayor pushes her forcefully up against cool tiles.
"Not too loud, okay?"
Regina warns - although she supposes she shouldn't really feel the need; Emma more often than not frustratingly quiet in comparison to the sounds that escape her own lips when parted in ecstasy - and the Sheriff nods obediently with her brow raised as she waits to see what the brunette might be up to.
After all, Regina wears that 'oh, you're in trouble' expression that she both fears and relishes.
"What are you gonna do?"
"Well, as you seem to have decided to be so selfish with the water, maybe I want to teach you a lesson?"
Regina murmurs huskily into slick flesh.
"What do you-"
"-You told me a story once, do you remember? When you mentioned your old life and your partaking in the odd pack of cigarettes here and there... Of how parents sometimes deal with their children upon discovering that dirty little habit..."
The brunette whispers breathlessly as the younger woman kisses her neck in a rather distracting fashion while waiting for her punishment.
"You told me that sometimes, rather than confiscating the packet and giving the child a talking to, parents might be inclined to force them to smoke the entire pack in order to ruin the experience in a rather unforgiving way..."
"So, what? You're going to make me take like twenty showers or something?"
Emma mumbles against a slippery collarbone; not really sure what the brunette might be getting at, but not all too broken up about it as she becomes distracted by the hardening buds of the Mayor's nipples brushing against her flesh.
"Not quite."
Regina admonishes as she tilts her jaw to allow the blonde to explore further, while simultaneously reaching up for the showerhead and pulling it down from its metal bracket; smiling maliciously when Emma lets out a small sound of confusion, before biting back a much louder whimper when the Mayor moves the hard jet of water down between them and holds it against her to illicit wide eyes and shaking curls in response.
"Regina, no..."
Emma begs, but she bites at her bottom lip in open anticipation and the brunette laughs with dark amusement as she presses cruel silver against sensitive flesh just a little harder and watches intently as the blonde reacts to the forceful jet of water pounding against her need with impressive speed.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no..."
She groans, as her legs tremble and her palms slide uselessly against the tiles behind her.
"Keep your legs apart."
The Mayor demands; angling the showerhead to counter Emma's futile attempts to lessen the impact.
"I can't."
The blonde argues simply, and Regina laughs as she presses herself against shaking flesh as she knows this isn't true.
Knows the Sheriff has a deliciously high tolerance for how much she can take if she really tries, before allowing herself to go over.
It's something she's learnt over the past year, and one of her favourite aspects of their lovemaking.
As for Emma, she knows that the younger woman's own greatest perversion is the danger of getting caught: the gleeful delight of catching her off-guard and teasing her, playing with her, fucking her where she shouldn't.
Preferably within earshot of undesirable company; green eyes tellingly blown while watching her prey struggle desperately to bite back cries of pleasure.
Those cries being second on the list of the younger woman's perversions; and something Emma encourages vehemently when they are alone.
This latter vice is definitely not something the darker woman minds - moaning wantonly into hot flesh as the Sheriff looks after her slowly but thoroughly - and, after finding out just how strongly her pleasured cries are able to affect her perpetrator a month or so after asking Emma to move in with her, it's something she's added to her own list of favoured sin. It had been an eye-opening experience, that first time; groaning loudly as wicked velvet had dipped wonderfully deep, only to be surprised by a harsh shudder and recognisable mewl as her rather vocal response to that sweet torture had given the blonde her own stimulation. Opening her mouth in surprise, she had pushed the Sheriff off of her and slipped her hand down between pale thighs to conclude her suspicion; smirking at the younger woman's bashful giggle as the latter's inner muscles had fluttered tellingly around her fingers.
Just one of many discoveries, both sordid and general, made over the past year, but certainly one of her favourites.
Because, for herself, there is nothing she likes more than watching the blonde 'get off' as Emma words it.
Especially when she takes her time to get there.
That's the ultimate prize, in her eyes, and, having several more tricks than Emma does herself at her disposal in this respect, it's something they've had an extortionate amount of fun exploring.
Regardless of her magic, however, at the end of the day, she can almost always count on the younger woman panting at her to 'do it the real way' as she nears the edge, and she's always been more than happy to oblige.
Happy to have that final push be raw and intimate and even.
Just so long as she gets what she wants.
Just so long as she gets to watch the Sheriff tense up and clench her jaw and breathe in that frantic, fluttering manner she so enjoys.
Several times, if she has her way.
That had been one of her other discoveries.
Her own greatest perversion.
And, the first time, she'd received a nasty shock when she'd fretted she'd gone too far.
She'd been using her magic - something she'd requested to do that had been happily agreed upon - as she'd kept the younger woman on the edge for the best part of two hours.
Originally, Emma had suggested they watch a movie. Noting the rather gory selection not so surreptitiously nudged to the forefront of their 'choices', she'd opted out and suggested some fun instead. Naturally, this suggestion had been eagerly accepted, and, she firmly believes it had been a better use of two hours than watching some poor, deformed maniac chopping up his victims in the way the Sheriff seems to find so inexplicably entertaining.
A much better use of time.
The blonde had been well and truly flustered by the time the clock had struck midnight; having sent the Mayor over twice during this time, while begrudgingly agreeing to warn the darker woman any time she felt close to her own imminent release after the brunette had asked so nicely to begin with.
"This is going to be intense..."
Regina had warned after the final chime of the clock tower, allowing her magic to crackle visibly for a second to explain her meaning, and Emma had simply nodded; growling at her to just do it already.
It had been a fair warning.
The brunette had watched on, intrigued, as she'd sent a bolt of power straight to the younger woman's core, and the latter had cried out and arched her back, before panting harshly with a small chuckle as she'd ridden out an obscurely strong wave of aftershock.
Wanting more, and adopting that darker, more demanding persona that often seems to come out to play when using her magic, she had purred her warning of 'and again, Miss Swan' without waiting for a response.
The Sheriff had yelled out once more- limbs flailing and whimpered breathing - and dark coals had glittered with hard lust as the younger woman had giggled nervously and moved her hand down between her legs as though to protect herself; her breathing laboured as she'd struggled to get her words out.
"Holy, h-holy shit, that was-"
But she'd trailed off as she'd taken in the hungry look the brunette had offered her, shaking her head and stammering nervously
"Fuck, 'Gina, I-I'm not sure I c-can. I-"
And, the brunette supposes that if the Sheriff had simply told her 'no', she would have accepted a good thing and not pushed it, but Emma has always liked being pushed, and she'd not been thinking straight enough herself by that point to start querying grey areas.
So she'd done it again.
Harder.
And her sordid chuckling as her own wetness would soon need seeing to again had been rich and indulgent, before it had tapered off into an anxious tittering; the younger woman convulsing fitfully before sobbing quietly as though broken. Clasping salted cheeks in warm palms, she'd stroked soft flesh with her thumbs nervously, repeating the blonde's name while trying to get a response.
"Hey! Hey, Emma! Emma! Hey!"
And her own cheeks had been damp by the time the Sheriff had finally switched fractured whimpering for weak laughter.
"Oh god, are you okay!? Sweetheart, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you, are you-"
"-I'm fine, I'm fine, it's all g-good."
Emma had assured her breathlessly; patting her arm in a clumsy attempt at consolation.
"Just... Fuck! That was-... That was-... M-maybe we just save that for special occasions... Like birthdays and Christmas or something... Something that only happens a couple of times a year..."
She'd giggled exhaustedly, and the brunette had rolled her eyes and kissed her softly; shifting her position with careful consideration when the latter had flinched away from even the softest weight of her neglige brushing against her sex, and avoiding any further contact with a rather shameful smirk.
"That's a deal, dear."
Although, it hadn't been. Emma had assured her a little more firmly that she'd been fine once she'd gotten her breath back, but the incident had still worried the Queen. Not so much so that she hadn't taken the blonde up on her offer... But, she'd used her hands rather than her magic; sending the Sheriff over again and again to receive much the same panting and shaking, but with a more intimate understanding of just how much more the younger woman could take.
It's something she's continued to strive and ascertain over the past year, and has proven to be a highly enjoyable investigation.
Smirking now as she locks her gaze with Emma's and keeps the cruel - beautifully cruel - pressure provided by the showerhead in place, she shakes her head when the blonde tries to slide down the wall and out of reach.
"That's not going to work, dearest."
She scolds amiably, and Emma offers her a sly grin and carries on trying anyway.
"Stand up properly and turn around."
Regina demands in her best regal voice, and green eyes flash with that familiar impish glint - the one the brunette always associates with a young girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar - as the blonde knows that the game is up.
When Regina uses that voice; she obeys.
Doing so now - turning stiffly and letting out a small gasp as the Mayor presses her against frigid tiles and keeps her pinned in place with her body - Emma supposes she doesn't really know what would happen if she were to disobey that voice.
Not in the bedroom, anyway.
That said, she doesn't really know why she'd want to.
"Shit!"
A snarled hiss through clenched teeth as the darker woman keeps her held firmly in place and holds the torturous jet of water facing up between splayed legs.
"I trust you're learning your lesson, little elf?"
Regina smiles into sodden gold, and Emma nods, although she isn't entirely sure she remembers what that lesson had been in the first place.
It just feels good - so good - and she bites back a cry as her knees buckle with her release and she slips gracelessly down to land in a soggy heap at the Mayor's feet.
Laughing breathlessly as she shakes her head at the rather unconvincing bemused look Regina attempts to give her, she pushes herself up onto her knees as the spraying showerhead dangles forgotten, beating down on white enamel.
"Emma..."
The Queen hisses as the younger woman makes her intentions clear; placing her palms against peaked hipbones in order to press the darker woman against the tiles, and the blonde glances up at her with a smirk as she coaxes slim legs gently apart and tastes the result their little game has had on the Mayor.
"We need to go down..."
Regina tries to reason as she runs her hand distractedly through wet curls.
"I am going down."
Emma giggles, and the brunette sighs with mock irritation before the sound becomes a broken moan as sharp teeth graze her clit with obscure gentleness.
"I mean down to do presents, you idiot."
"Giving you one now, Madame Mayor."
"I mean-"
"-I know what you mean, and this would go a lot faster if you didn't keep making me talk!"
The blonde scolds, and the darker woman chuckles breathlessly as she closes her eyes and opens her legs just a little wider.
"I never demanded a response. In fact, I kind of hoped you'd- oh!... God!"
Her fist tightens over damp tresses as the other closes down around her breast and her thighs twitch tellingly.
"Hoped I'd what?"
Emma grins, and Regina shakes her head as she keeps her eyes closed and her hand pressed to her chest. Laughing quietly, the blonde pushes herself up while offering a teasing squeeze of her hand between parted legs to earn a jerk and an angry hiss to watch herself, before climbing from the shower stall, shivering, as it suddenly dawns on her how cold she is.
"So, do you want to cunningly go down first to dispel any traumatising thoughts, or shall I?"
She smirks over at the Mayor, and Regina smiles back and suggests it might look less suspicious if she goes downstairs before the often tardy blonde.
"So, how'd Madame Mayor like the necklace I picked out for her?"
Ruby grins, and Emma rolls her eyes as she swipes her finger through a lavish helping of cinnamon-dusted cream.
"Oh, come on, you didn't do shit. That was totally all me... Kind of... And it's not my fault I'm no good with stuff like that."
"Meaning, you know that without my help, Regina would now be trying to find a way to feed some hideous piece of crap down the garbage disposal."
"She has magic... And she liked it."
The blonde grumbles irritably; sighing when the waitress responds to this affirmation with a gleeful smirk.
"Ah, so you're in Her Highness's good books now, then? Gonna get yourself your own little present toni-"
"-Can we change the subject?!"
Snow snaps as she makes her way over to the kitchen island with some difficulty as she only has a couple of weeks to go before her due date.
"Seconded."
Emma nods with a blush.
"Thirded."
David growls from the corner, and Ruby laughs as she mutters in Emma's ear
"Objection!"
But offers the Charmings an angelic smile.
"Anyway, what about you guys? I thought you had some big news or something which meant we had to meet here?"
The blonde smiles at her parents, and the waitress sighs as she shakes her head and leans back on one of the old barstools with a smirk.
"If it's that you're pregnant, Emma and I guessed that already."
"Observant."
Snow chuckles, rubbing her belly, before turning to David and nodding secretively. Smiling back, he excuses himself and disappears behind the curtains of their bedroom.
"What's going on, guys?"
Emma asks curiously
"Well, we weren't really sure what to get you, and I guess this is maybe more for Henry, but we thought you might like a little friend, too."
"How's that?"
"I'm not sure if you can put him in with Quimb, so we got you a separate hutch too, just in case. Say hello to... Whatever you two decide to call him."
Charming smiles as he comes out baring a small cage housing a rather inquisitive-looking guinea pig poking its nose through the bars.
"Awesome!"
Emma grins, before sighing and glancing back up at David as he stands with his hand resting on her shoulder.
"And it's three of us. You know that."
Shaking his head, the long-ago shepherd boy raises his palms in defence and explains honestly
"I was referring to you and Regina. Henry might enjoy this little one just as much as you will, but he's not about to spend several hours bickering over names and snide references."
David chuckles, and Mary Margaret nods in agreement.
"We're still surprised you got away with Quimby!"
"Yeah... Well... I have my ways."
Emma grins, before blushing when her mother goes swiftly about stirring her herbal tea in quite a frenzied manner; mumbling sheepishly
"Didn't mean it like that."
Snow nods curtly in response, but seems suddenly less frantic about her beverage and offers a kind smile.
"You couldn't convince her to come over for a drink?"
"Oh, she actually seemed pretty on board, but, I dunno... Some kind of turkey disaster, or something."
"Mmm... I'm sure."
The schoolteacher mutters, and Emma nibbles her lip uncomfortably before she breathes a sigh of relief when she's rescued from the awkward tension by the quiet beep of her phone. Glancing down at the incoming message, she raises a brow, before looking back up and announcing with something akin to shock
"Actually, she's invited you guys over to ours for wine and... A-and something soft for Mary Margaret."
She informs her curious audience; swiftly ad-libbing Regina's original wording of 'and a juice-box for the large one.'
In all honesty, she supposes she's more shocked than she should be; Regina having confided in her at some point in early spring that it was more of a chore distancing herself from the blonde's family than it was simply accepting that they existed. Not that this epiphany meant she was about to call up Snow and suggest meeting up for coffee, she'd hastily gone on to explain, but she had agreed that if she happened to come across the Fair Queen while in town or in the diner, she would at least say hello.
And she'd been thanked for this less-than-enthused offer handsomely.
"Shall we come by after lunch?"
Snow asks with a similar tone of surprise, and Emma shrugs as she says she's sure that's fine; tapping back a reply with a small nudge to Ruby's ribs as the waitress peeks over her shoulder with a grin.
I'll suggest around two, is that cool? By the way... I love you.
I love you.
Regina smiles as she reads the blonde's text before glancing up at Henry who stands with his face splattered with flour and his hands caked in dough with a politely curious expression.
"Mom? What is it?"
"Oh, just Emma being a soppy little so-and-so."
She chuckles, and the boy shakes his head as he goes back to work.
"Emma's not soppy."
"No, of course not."
She smirks, and her son glances back at her sternly in his best attempt at mimicking the blonde.
"If she hears you say that, you're done for."
"Oh, and what is she going to do? I'm the Evil Queen."
"Not anymore."
Henry smiles, and Regina sighs as she nibbles at one of the cookies from the previous batch they've made.
"No, I suppose not."
"I mean, you invited Snow White and Prince Charming round for drinks! And a wolf!"
Though, he supposes Ruby is somewhat of a regular in their household; often accompanying the Sheriff home after work to share a beer or two. Something which Regina had originally allowed with ill-hidden irritation, but nowadays sometimes elects to join in with.
"Indeed."
The brunette sighs, and yes, she supposes she's changed for good, but she negates to point out to Henry that she has invited the blonde's parents over more for Emma's sake than out of any civil expectation or festive cheer.
Because she knows.
She knows what the Sheriff refuses to admit about the little one getting ready to enter the world any day now. What Emma refuses to even talk about.
"It's exciting!"
Has been the party line, but Regina hasn't been fooled in the slightest, and she's unsure whether Henry believes his mother's strained attempts at forced joy either.
Because this new baby will be what the Saviour never could be to the two idiots. And while she knows it's wrong to think in such a way, or surely she would allow the topic to come up for debate, this truth hurts the Sheriff in a way the Queen can only silently acknowledge and try to make light of.
The only time they've even come close to discussing the matter, Emma had used the word 'replacement', and that had been all she'd needed to hear despite the blonde's vehement declarations that she was 'totally cool with it all' moments later.
A replacement for the child that is all grown up and unable to give the Charmings what they want, though Regina knows - however much she might profess not to care - that this fact hurts the other two just as much as it does the Sheriff.
So, she has gone out of her way to try and make nice.
To try and allow as much 'family bonding' as she can abide, because, all she really wants is for everyone to be happy.
I will destroy your happiness if it is the last thing I do.
These words come back to her suddenly, and she blinks in surprise before chuckling darkly; shaking her head with a smile when Henry glances at her inquisitively.
"Are you almost done? We'll put that batch in the oven, and then how about a game of chess by the fire?"
"Yeah!
The boy beams, and while it has been a whole year since things changed in town, he's still able to take a moment now and then to appreciate that fact.
After all, he's still elated to be able to spend time with Emma, and while he respects that she's explained a dozen times now how things had been with Neal and herself all those years ago and why she hadn't been able to keep him, he doesn't imagine many kids could ask for a nicer parent, however much she might insist that she's no good at this or that. She loves him, and he loves her right back with almost frightening intensity, and, he can't think of many things that could top that, but, perhaps the best part of the Curse breaking and the younger woman moving in, is the fact that he has his mother back.
Regina as she had been.
Only, so much happier and without that ever-present cloak of a dark secret tainting the very air in their house. Even as a young child, he'd felt its presence, and he'd grown wary and reserved accordingly.
There's a lot of laughter now that echoes through the rooms of the mansion that had once been devoid of that sound.
Scooping dollops of batter from the bowl and onto an oven tray, he smiles, sharing the brunette's evil smirk when Regina suggests that they might leave the pots and pans in the sink so that the Sheriff can partake in a part of family baking also.
"Come on, show me how you've improved by beating Emma, and then I need to get changed to receive guests."
"Any decisions on the name?"
Ruby asks curiously as she leans against the spotless counter in the Mayor's kitchen.
"Nope."
Emma grins, shooting a mischievous glance at Regina who stands beside her sipping delicately at a glass of red wine, and the darker woman sighs theatrically.
"I have yet to find a suitable adversary for Quimby."
"Isn't the Sheriff or cop guy or whatever on that show an idiot, too?"
The waitress inquires, wracking her memory, and the blonde glowers at her irritably.
"Yeah, but we're not calling our guinea pig Wiggum. The Mayor thing is funny because he's all fancy and tends to hang with a - smoking hot, I might add - blonde or two. Wiggum's just an idiot obsessed with doughnuts and stuff."
"... I'm still waiting for you to get to your point as to why that's not fitting, dear."
Regina challenges, and the Sheriff rolls her eyes and hisses at her to shut up before addressing her parents.
"What about you guys? Any ideas, yet?"
"Some, but as we've told you, the tradit-"
"-Yeah, yeah, the tradition is that you don't tell us yet. You know, I was thinking about all that, though, and, like... Why did you call me Emma? If Rumple warned you all this shit was going happen to Emma, why not call me Jane or something?"
"Ah, yes, that well-known, most popular of names back in the Enchanted Forest..."
Charming grins, before shaking his head with a shrug.
"It doesn't work like that. Magic is a little more involved than just altering a name."
"Not true-"
Regina interrupts
"-Names are remarkably powerful."
"So then-"
"-But, calling you something else wouldn't have changed anything in this case. Believe me... I've checked."
She assures the Sheriff, and Emma sighs as she helps herself to another beer.
"Fine, but you guys better call it something good. Not like Snow White or Bo Peep or anything."
She grumbles, and Snow offers a playful scowl, before pointing to the waitress and scoffing
"Or, like, Red or anything?"
"Hey!"
"Nah, Red's alright."
The blonde shrugs, before catching the irritable look the Queen shoots down at her wine and offering the darker woman a small, placating smile.
"Anyway, we'd better leave you to it. I left the turkey in the oven, but it will need basting and I need a nap."
Snow smiles, and the others nod and say their respective farewells; leaving just the two women - one dark, one fair - standing side by side looking out the kitchen window across the lawn where their son feeds handfuls of grass through the mesh of a modest hutch.
"That was nice..."
Emma murmurs, and the Queen nods with a smile.
"Good."
"You couldn't resist showing me up though, could you?"
"Excuse me?"
"I leave to go out and you're all pretty and suave in your skirt and sweater, and then I come back to this."
The Sheriff teases as she runs an appreciative hand over the fine silk of the brunette's shirt.
"Well, I dressed as one does when they're expecting company."
Regina sniffs with a pointed smirk at the jeans and sweater worn by the blonde.
"Bullshit."
"And by 'show you up' are you honestly pretending that you would have dressed any differently had you known I was getting changed?"
"Maybe."
Emma grins, and the brunette chuckles as she shakes her head in amiable disbelief.
"Such lies!"
"I could have worn some sort of Christmas ensemble!"
"Mmm, you mean like your little ensemble last year?"
Regina purrs into soft tresses, and the younger woman smirks as she trails her fingers over the soft swell of the Mayor's ass to squeeze playfully at her hip.
"Sadly, we threw that out."
She laughs, and the brunette joins in as she studies the blonde intently.
"Well, that skimpy little set was hardly fit for use once we were done, dear."
She reminds, and Emma blushes as she recalls her cruel teasing of the Mayor and her declaration that the darker woman would just have to wait before opening all of her presents, only to be met by a low growl of 'just a peek, then' and the unmistakable sound of ripping material as Regina had found a way around that little loophole and entered her swiftly through a ragged tear in sheer fabric.
"And whose fault was that?"
"Yours. No one likes a tease."
"Actually, I think you like it when I tease you just fine..."
"Hmm... You have your moments."
The brunette grins, and the Sheriff raises a brow at the former's coquettish attitude and threatens quietly
"Don't give me ideas. I'll be more than happy to share the last little present you bought me again."
Dark eyes flicker, but Regina shakes her head; knowing the younger woman refers to the discreet remote control vibrator purchased after some red-cheeked deliberation during her last outing over the town line. Yet another gadget bought to aid her research into just how close and for how long she can bring the blonde to the edge before disaster strikes. A fun game, but not one she would like reversed.
No.
As with any couple, they each enjoy and suffer their own bodies and turn-ons and reactions, and what can keep the Sheriff on a cruel high for the best part of an hour will have her crying out in minutes; deliciously sensitive and coming hard and fast when they've played with toys designed to overstimulate.
She had originally instructed the blonde to insert her little gift before a pleasant dinner at Granny's followed by a chilly walk in the woods. Emma had begged - just once - as they'd neared the troll bridge. Up until then, she'd managed to keep her cool with remarkable talent, save for the odd blush and clench of her jaw, but as they'd stood looking down at the murky water, she'd whispered needfully that her underwear was no longer good for anything much. Shrugging indifferently, the Mayor had simply suggested that she remove it if it was bothering her so much, but she'd made no further steps to put an end to her slow game until they'd finally made it home, thanked Ruby for babysitting, and retired to bed.
Emma had suggested a similar game the following evening when they'd been sat down in the drawing room sharing a bottle of merlot, but after just five minutes of wearing the evil little device, Regina had begged an end to their experiment; uncomfortably wet and lying on her back beneath the smiling blonde with her stomach twitching and her hips moving of their own accord while her words had been broken up by small moans. As has almost always been the case, the Sheriff had swiftly taken pity on her; slipping free the torturous gadget before moving down the sofa to clean up the glistening result of their game using the slow, careful swipes of her tongue that have always been much more to the brunette's liking.
"Behave yourself and help me with the potatoes."
The Mayor hisses now, and Emma shrugs and does as she's told, though her cheeks still carry a bright spot of colour. Smirking as her own excitement has been stoked, Regina joins the blonde as the latter washes the bag of Maris Pipers in the sink, and peels them once they're passed over; watching the black flash of the intricate lines colouring the Sheriff's wrists as she works.
Gold's gift to the younger woman several months ago.
The imp had returned to Storybrooke a couple of weeks after they had themselves, but with all the commotion of post-curse life, they had managed to keep a wide berth of one another. Something that had proven a little more difficult when - along with several other less savoury discoveries to come to light - the small matter of what Regina had threatened was being kept from him had come up.
It had been a tense situation - perhaps the most uncomfortable time in the Mayor's household since explaining the truth of her reign - but, in the end, what she had begged of the Saviour to believe had been true.
Belle hadn't been harmed.
She had been kept locked away and confused, and this much had come up several times following Regina's tentative admission of what she might have stashed below the hospital, but in the end, it had been something Emma had known she wouldn't be able to fully understand, and she'd chosen to simply accept this fact.
Gold had been a little less lenient.
Still, his anger had been shot down by the Sheriff who had accompanied Regina to the little man's shop as she'd suggested that there had to finally be an end to whatever plots for revenge were simmering between the Queen and the Sorcerer; showing Gold her wrists and asking him if he couldn't just enjoy what he had rather than punishing for the past.
He'd agreed.
Begrudgingly.
And that had been all any of them had had to say to one another for a couple of months.
Still, eventually, monosyllabic conversation had turned into a tentative back and forth, and, by the time the Queen had come bursting into his shop on a blisteringly hot summer's morning with her eyes wide and her nerves causing her voice to shake, he and the blonde had been somewhat back on genial terms.
"Something bad has happened..."
Regina had blurted out, proceeding to relay what she could remember of Emma's explanation of the events that had led to the younger woman returning home bloody, pale, and cradling her arm.
"I fixed it... I fixed it, but it's a wolf's bite. It's-"
But Gold had told her to quieten down before following her briskly back to the mansion; the realisation that there existed any sort of bad blood between them only occurring to him while mounting the steps, as, with Belle back in his life and his tentative baby steps over the phone with his son, he'd had little reason to give the Queen and her Saviour any real thought for a while.
He'd done what he could and had given the younger woman a tonic to be taken before the next full moon without asking for anything in return, for which she had thanked him and offered him a drink.
He'd accepted out of simple courtesy, but his attention had fallen again and again to the cruel marks circling her wrists.
In January, Regina had attempted to eliminate that crude scarring herself to no avail. He'd known this, as the Mayor had informed him of the fact bitterly when discussing Belle. She'd snarled at him about how she'd tried to get rid of those curious white bracelets that made her heart ache whenever she'd look at them.
"You can't eradicate a cursed injury."
He'd explained to her then, just as he'd explained the same thing to Emma when checking over the scar left by Ruby's bite.
For that is what it had been. Those scars to the young woman's wrists. In the end, magic is a powerful and elusive entity, and it had been more than just a case of a piece of metal cutting into the blonde's arms. It had been the beginnings to an end, and for this reason, he believes, those scars will remain visible for the rest of the Saviour's natural life.
But, he had been sorry.
He'd used her to get what he'd wanted, and while he'd accepted long ago that this was simply his way of living, he had spared Emma no real dislike at any point during their relationship, and those crude circlets had weighed on his mind now and then in a way many greater travesties never had.
He'd offered her an alternative.
Offered her something beautiful instead of those damning marks.
Had decorated the insides of her wrists with elaborate lines and beauty, so that now if one were to find themselves glimpsing anything and taking a second glance, they might find themselves drawn to delicate tattoos rather than slices of scar tissue.
Emma had been thrilled with the result.
The Queen too, but not so much out of any real liking for body art, but rather... What Rumple had done really was beautiful.
It's still never quite served to hide the pain suffered in that little apartment what seems like a lifetime ago, but, it's an improvement.
"I'll finish up in here if you go sort out anything for Wiggum before it gets dark."
"Alright, cool... Hey! We're not calling-"
"-We are. Now, go on. Make yourself useful."
She smirks as she gives the blonde a push towards the door, and the latter glares at her with a rather sorry attempt at irritation, before disappearing out into the cold to find Henry.
"Good girl."
Regina mutters under her breath with a smile as she seasons the potatoes and moves them into the oven.
Has Henry gone upstairs?
Regina enquires as Emma enters the drawing room with a couple of glasses of cognac and joins her by the fire.
"Out like a light. I went to go clean the wrapping paper off our bed and checked in on him on the way back down. That kid sure can snore!"
Regina chuckles knowingly and accepts both the glass the blonde holds out to her and the kiss brushed gently against her lips. Careful to keep from spilling her drink, she wraps her free arm around the younger woman's shoulders to hold her in place and deepens that tender kiss passionately; letting out a low, appreciative hum of encouragement when Emma's spare hand finds the soft swell of her breast.
"Merry Christmas, Your Highness!"
Emma laughs a little breathlessly once she's forced to stop for air, and the brunette's eyes glitter as she replies in kind.
"Hurry up and finish your drink."
The blonde orders.
"Why the rush?"
Regina smirks with feigned ignorance, and Emma sighs but plays along with their little game; shrugging and pulling out her phone as she knocks back her glass.
"No reason."
"Hmm. I'm sure... And put your phone away. It's rude-"
"-yeah, one second. I've just got to call this girl, though. She's totally hot - you'd like her - and I happen to know she's up for pretty much anything, so... As it's Christmas..."
"What?!"
The Mayor snarls, before frowning as her own cell vibrates quietly in her pocket. Raising a brow, she offers the Sheriff a withering look that does little to hide her smile.
"Aren't you going to answer that?"
Emma asks innocently, and Regina pulls out her phone with her gaze firmly trained on cool, green eyes, and flips it open with a sigh.
"Yes?"
"Upstairs. Now."
Chuckling quietly as she watches Emma take her leave, she calls softly that she'll be up once she's dampened the fire.
Waiting for the soft sound of footsteps to grace the landing above, she makes her way over to her desk and pulls a small bag from the drawer; slipping out delicate lace that had seemed extortionately expensive given how little one was receiving for their money.
Removing her clothes, she pads over to the fire to put it out, before slipping into scant lingerie and tipping back her drink.
Creeping up the stairs and into the bedroom, she pushes the open-mouthed Sheriff down onto the bed - the latter midway through pulling off her jeans - and straddles her possessively; grinding red lace with its festive white trim against plain, grey cotton and tasting the younger woman hungrily; imagining she will never grow tired of this particular indulgence.
"Let's see how long this set lasts."
"A dangerous game, Madame Mayor."
"It better be... Your move."