"Last time I saw you we had just split in two.
You were looking at me. I was looking at you. You had a way so familiar, but I could not recognize, cause you had blood on your face; I had blood in my eyes.
But I could swear by your expression that the pain down in your soul
was the same as the one down in mine." – Hedwig and the Angry Inch, "Origin of Love"
Regina
There was so much going on between her and Emma that they needed to talk about and figure out. It was going to be a very long day; Regina could already feel the deep seated sense of aggravation mixed with pain- hers and Emma's ever present inside and rolling around like a big ball of confusing uncategorized feeling. The underlying tension she was feeling toward Emma seeped into every action. Regina picked out a suitable outfit for her body, and fussed over her hair, managing to get her makeup on, without poking out her eyes even as Emma flinched and blinked when she applied mascara and eyeliner.
"Ow," Emma deadpanned as the mascara brush flitted near her eyeball.
"That did not hurt," Regina replied in a curt tone and made another pass over her eyelashes.
"Everything hurts," Emma rubbed at her chest and grimaced, twisting Regina's lovely face as if embodying another's emotions felt similar to heartburn. It did.
Regina frowned and exhaled heavily, as she watched her own bottom lip pout and her chin crinkle slightly. It was a facial expression she recognized, albeit it happened involuntarily when Regina was feeling overwhelmed. She fought the strong urge to comfort Emma. She wanted to hold her – and in perverted realization she wanted to comfort herself desperately. Instead, Regina simply ran her fingers through her soft brown hair once and announced that she was ready.
Emma took the opportunity of their close proximity to study her own face. She recognized herself, of course, the way her lip line curved downward into a natural frown and the roundness of her cheeks, bright blue-green eyes, but she could see Regina in there clearly. Emma realized it was only a matter of time before others would see it too and start to question things if they hadn't already begun to talk.
Emma had a way of shining through even in Regina's body also. The energy between them felt different in the light of day. The dynamic had shifted substantially, knowing someone's motives and feelings somehow made everything even harder to talk about.
Regina tried again to put her feelings into words, but she stopped herself unable to form any coherent line of thought. She had no idea what she was supposed to do today as Sheriff, and she knew damn well that Emma had no idea how to act as Mayor. The uncertainty and the feeling of being unsure about anything made Regina's skin crawl. She needed to know what to do in any situation. She threw herself into the ordered routine of her morning, attempting to cling to a shred of familiarity even as she was picking through her wardrobe in attempt to find something Emma-ish to wear. She had nothing.
"Mom! Where's my breakfast? I'm gonna be late," Henry screamed/whined from all the way downstairs.
"Get down there and make him some eggs, and I'll sneak out so he doesn't see me," Regina hissed to Emma, ordering her around like she had control of her.
"Kid is 11 and he can't make his own breakfast?" Emma didn't wait for a reply. She slid into a pair of high heels and carefully descended the stairs, "Coming Henry."
She did enjoy the tone of Regina's voice when she spoke like that.
…..
Most people had to remember to sit up straight and hold their bodies rigid, but Regina, while out in public, had to remember what she looked like and make conscious effort to slouch as she casually sipped her coffee at Granny's. Emma had quite the caffeine addiction and as much as she wanted to play along, there was no way she was going to drink Red Bull to get her fix. Not even the sugar free variety.
She had gotten used to Emma's body: the length of her arms, the weight of her limbs, and the way her hip popped and burned momentarily whenever she stood up after sitting too long from an old injury. The emotions were harder, and she felt as though she'd never get used to the way things were becoming sharper through Emma's eyes. Along with it, there was a love, a grudging, halting, yet ceaseless love for Snow White. She tried not to settle on that particular feeling, but the love she felt for Henry was married in her bones, resolute and never surer.
"Emma, you didn't come home last night. What's going on with you?" Snow flung herself into the stool next to her, all nervous energy and braying concern. Hands landed on Regina's shoulders and stroked the golden hair. It almost didn't make her skin crawl. She eventually shrugged off the affection and realized Snow was still waiting for an explanation. So many obligations, so much responsibility.
"I've been busy. I have a lot going on," Regina shrugged, but she knew her shoulders were far too tense to appear natural and nonchalant.
Snow was becoming suspicious, "What are you eating? Is that whole wheat bread and black coffee?" she leaned over far too close and in Regina's personal space. For a moment Regina assumed she was going to take one of her triangles of sandwich. "You once told me that refined flour is God's greatest gift…"
Regina shifted in her seat.
Snow's voice softened, "Look, you need to come home. I know you've been distant, but Regina is…you know how she is…"
"No, I don't. Tell me, how is she?" The hostility and bitterness in the question took even Regina by surprise. Snow recoiled, her cheeks shaking and nostrils flaring. Regina thought she may have made her cry.
Everyone thought they knew Regina so well, no one did. Snow couldn't even answer the question. She appeared to be sad and withdrawn. Only Emma really knew her now and the thought made her feel bold, yet ever lonelier in this town, in this world.
Snow sighed heavily, moving on, "Henry…we need to make plans," her voice dropped to a sympathetic whisper. "Emma, you saw how she was the other night…and still you try to reason with her. You've been spending the night at her house. It's clear that she's poisoning you."
Regina's mouth felt dry and she took another sip of coffee to wash down the words she wanted to say. The anger swirled inside her, but was dampened by Emma's emotions taking further hold. She turned to Snow and looked her in the eye, her voice sounding high and false, "I think Regina's days of poisoning anyone are behind her."
Snow watched the delicate way Emma was eating and raised an eyebrow. Regina took a bigger bite and chewed exaggeratedly.
"Rumplestiltskin has the paperwork drawn up, you just need to cut off ties with her…no negotiations, and Henry will be yours—ours—solely," Snow barreled forward.
Regina kept her face schooled, non-reactive. She empathized with the desire to have Henry as hers much more than Emma did. For a moment, the need for revenge reared up in her. It crossed her mind and darkened her features like sun filtering through shifting blinds. She pushed away her plate and contemplated the irony of staying like this, staying in Emma and taking Henry away from her right under the real Emma's nose with nothing left for her to do but feel the pain of it.
But no, it was only a matter of time before they were discovered. Even if Regina could lie and pretend convincingly, Emma would screw it up sooner or later. In the end, the little things would add up and be their undoing. "I have to go back to work. I won't be home tonight."
"But Emma it's tuna casserole night and we've got…"
"I'll be at Regina's."
Snow's mouth opened and closed silently, repeatedly. Regina stood up as crassly as possible, hip popping almost satisfactorily. "Thanks for lunch…bye, Mom."
Emma
Staring at the files and folders and neatly stacked memorandums and work plans; turning on the computer and immediately seeing how Regina had organized every single working day into spread sheets. It all made Emma feel just so much less than grown up, or responsible, or any of those things.
She was trying. Well, sort of. She sort of worked, sort of parented, sort of tended to the day to day demands of her life.
All just…sort of.
The phone rang. Emma stared blankly ahead as she held the receiver lightly against her ear.
"Yeah?" She sighed.
"What is the matter with you? Why did you answer my line in such an unprofessional manner?" Regina made questions sound more like commands.
"Nothing." Fighting strange and sudden tears, Emma stared hard at the ceiling. "Nothing is wrong, Regina. And I knew it was you. Ok? What? What is it?"
Silence.
"Something really is wrong." Regina said, quiet this time. "I'll be there momentarily."
"What? Why?" Emma had time to shout into the phone before Regina hung up, but her questions were unanswered as Regina hung up on her.
Twenty minutes later, after counting corners on the deathtrap marble features all around the office, Emma heard her secretary arguing with Emma:
"Sheriff Swan, she isn't expecting you!" The terror in the woman's tone was palpable.
Emma sighed and pressed her direct line. "It's all right, we have a meeting. Send the Sheriff in."
Regina strode in wearing the body and the clothes Emma missed terribly.
"What's wrong? Did something happen to you—to me?" Regina looked Emma up and down, checked her makeup, and then moved closer to flip a segment of hair back from Emma's face. "Stand up straight. Why are you slouching? That's my back you're damaging." Satisfied, seemingly, with Emma's physical well-being, Regina stepped back. She looked around the office and nodded her approval.
Emma was suddenly glad that the interior designer hadn't been able to secure the swim spa in time and that the contractor in charge of tearing out the far left wall from where she stood, had had other appointments.
"It's obvious that Henry should be with you." Emma started.
Regina's mouth fell open. "What is the matter with you? Do not make me ask again!"
Emma's eyes welled up so she sat down abruptly and began to shuffle papers. "How did this even fucking happen? Really, Regina, you haven't explained it."
"There is much you also haven't explained." Regina muttered. "I'll ask you another time when you're not quite so…"
"Don't make fun of me, I'm upset!" Emma replied.
"Why?" Regina wandered off toward the small table where she used to hold some of her more 'intimate' town meetings. Like the time she convinced the previous Sheriff that eating her out on the table fulfilled vital policing duties. She made a mental note to never tell Emma Swan any of this. Why she suddenly cared, she had no clue.
Now Emma was rambling and pacing, talking about the need to become more organized. What the hell?
"Don't be stupid." Regina scoffed, "You're being counterproductive. Henry needs both of us now. Besides, Ms. Swan, need I remind you…"
"Don't call me stupid!" Emma's shouted interruption shocked them both.
Regina took a half step back. She looked utterly stunned. "Ok." Hands raised in a conciliatory gesture, Regina nodded. "Ok. I apologize."
"Or…" Emma narrowed her eyes. "Was this all deliberate? Did you do this to us to get closer to Henry. To throw me into the body of the most hated woman in Storybrooke…"
"I'm not…" The words hit Regina hard. She saw, for the briefest of moments, the resemblance her own face had to her mother's. Cora's cruelty, her constant simmering rage, revealed itself in the darkness of Regina's own eyes. She hadn't known; Regina had never seen herself from the outside like this, and she didn't realize, until now, how frighteningly similar to Cora she could look. Blinking back angry tears, Regina tried to focus, arguing, and "This wasn't deliberate. Did I seem happy when you saw me on that first day?"
"No, no, you didn't. You didn't look…does Henry always act like such a little jerk toward you?" Emma blurted the question before she knew she'd be asking it.
Now Regina was really reeling. Her eyes darted back toward the door, as if looking for an escape. "You're…you can't just…Emma for fuck's sake!"
"Did you just say 'for fuck…'?" Emma walked out from around the desk and approached Regina.
"Enough. I have work to do. As do you." Regina's voice was shrill.
Emma recognized that shrillness. It meant that surging emotions were about to lead to tears—or, more commonly, to anger. The whitening of knuckles, the sweaty palms...
"Wait. But…" It suddenly seemed very important to make Regina stay a little longer. "Tonight." Emma blurted out.
"What about tonight?" Regina just kept staring into Emma's eyes. Something had her freaking out. Badly. It wasn't just the question about Henry, though that likely hadn't helped.
Emma stepped closer. "Hey." She brushed her hand over Regina's arm. "Dinner. Come over for dinner. Ok?" Her palm moved over Regina's hand, squeezing tightly.
"Henry hates…" Regina started. "Just like I hated…"
"Shhhhh…no, no, he doesn't." Emma stepped closer, knowing that her own body didn't respond well to forced hugs or false sympathies, and took a deep breath, willing her hands to stay by her sides. "I called him a jerk, Regina. I love Henry. I've never, ever called him a jerk. Look at me. I'm almost…I mean I'm on your side, Regina, I'm just wondering about Henry's behavior, I know he's…"
"He's angry." Regina interrupted. "And yes, toward me, he's always like that. Is that why you called me here today? To ask? To rub my face in it?" Regina's voice was dull, emotionless.
The best Emma could do was touch her hand again. She closed her eyes tightly, rubbed her thumb over Regina's clenched fist, and repeated her invitation. "Dinner. 6pm."
Inviting Regina over for actual dinner, not just a movie and some snacks, presented another set of problems for Emma.
She didn't just want to take out things that Regina herself had stored away, to be thawed or reheated. She didn't exactly cook up to Regina's standards though.
A lazy Saturday afternoon watching Mrs. Doubtfire, back when Emma was fifteen, suddenly flitted through her mind. There had to be totally fancy-ass places that would cater to the Mayor's dining needs, just like in that movie. All Emma could remember were the tiny, tiny carrots.
Sure enough, Emma found the number to just such a place on Regina's speed dial.
An hour and a half after Emma called them, three men, all dressed in black shirts and ties, carried food into the house while a fourth pony-tailed, smirking man winked at Emma and said, "Your Majesty, how lovely to see you." The caterers marched past Emma as she held the door for them and as their Chef (she assumed) proceeded to bark orders at the men. They set the table using Regina's best silverware and china, and put warming trays into the oven for the remaining fifteen minutes until the real Regina would be arriving with Henry. They arranged glasses and poured wine, reacting little when Regina told them to pour for two adults.
When Emma tried to hand over Regina's credit card, all four men grinned at her as if they thought she was joking.
"For you, my Queen, anything at all." The pony-tailed guy, who had shown up in a black Chef's jacket, bowed before her and then ducked out the door.
By the time Regina arrived, Emma was ready. She was shocked at Regina's attire though. Nothing of the outfit was anything Emma would have chosen. Regina wore dark dress pants Emma had never seen before, and a white silk short sleeved shirt and the gun and badge from what should have been a finished workday. Also, Regina had done Emma's hair a little differently. It was piled on top of her head and pinned, with only a few strands falling here and there.
"Have a seat Sheriff Swan." Emma smiled demurely as she waved Regina to the head of the table. "And put that thing away before you take someone's eye out." She smirked at the way Regina awkwardly but defiantly handled her gun. "I'll show you the way." Emma stammered after Regina spent a full minute staring hard at her. While Henry watched, Emma pretended to know the way to a small safe which Regina herself actually led them to.
Dinner itself was really nice. Some sort of stuffed chicken-something, with some kind of creamy sauce, and a side of greens and some tiny carrots (Emma asked especially for those) and really mushy rice, which Regina assured her was actually risotto.
"You're quite the Chef, Mayor Mills." Regina deadpanned even as Emma could tell that she was fighting laughter. She had a fork in one hand and a knife in the other and she looked like she wanted to shovel the food in with a plough instead. Emma wondered if she ate like that. She sure hoped not.
"I didn't have time. I had it catered. I can't cook risotto for…" Emma stopped herself, cutting her vegetables carefully. Fuck! Maybe Regina was the fucking Queen of risotto, how should Emma know?
"No, you can't." Henry shrugged.
"Hehe...No I can't." Emma was happy that she had guessed right. She happily cut a dainty forkful of chicken and ate it carefully.
"Your mother must be good at other things, Henry?" Regina was fishing now, but Henry played easily along.
Henry nodded. "She makes amazing steak. Pot roast. Gravy. Potatoes. Stuffing. Rabbit in this wine stuff. And," His eyes gleamed as he stared at the ceiling, "she cooks a mean apple turnover…"
"Henry!" Emma and Regina exclaimed at once.
"Oh man." Henry shoved a forkful of carrots into his mouth and chewed studiously. "Are we just going to never talk about it?" He asked after swallowing.
After they got the awkwardness out of the way, the tension smoothed over and the evening ended pleasantly enough. Surprisingly, they were both quite sympathetic to one another and forgiving. Another evening passed with movies and popcorn, and then Henry was in bed and it was just Regina and Emma.
"When are you going to tell me what is really going on?" Regina asked, her voice rising on the question, but without malice. "I had lunch with your mother today. I almost gave the whole game away because I ordered a whole what sandwich. The way you eat isn't healthy. Dare I think what would have happened if I had asked for nine grain?"
"Well, maybe we don't know each other well enough," Emma scratched Regina's neck, it was longer than Emma's and her once second nature habit felt surreal.
Regina watched her from where she sat on the bed, "I know everything about you! Everything that matters, anyhow."
"You feel it too?" Our little almost switch back it did something to me," Emma felt relieved to finally talk about it.
Regina rolled her eyes and looked toward the ceiling, "Me too." The admission was weak and she sounded vulnerable.
"It made me understand and see you on a deeper level. I feel everything…your pain, your love even your…my…hormones are fucked up, like perpetual PMS or something."
"Emma, I feel guilty enough being in your body, and I can handle your cravings for sugar and processed foods, but your…other appetites…I feel perverse."
"I'm not…why would I…" Emma smoothed her hands nervously over her designer overpriced Gucci skirt. It was grey. Emma had never worn grey in her life….
…and beneath the grey was…was…
Regina. Her body. Not Emma's. Regina's smooth thighs and pointy little knees and that adorable way her inner thigh sort of creased and then immediately made way for the curve of her mound.
Emma cleared her throat. Regina's throat. Whatever.
The body that Emma had inhabited was obviously familiar territory to its original owner. So…why not?
With her eyes locked on Regina's—on her own eyes in reality—Emma stripped slowly.
First, the skirt. Zipper at back. Each enough. It just took a wiggle or two to shimmy the material down without wrinkling it. It was so heady, being in Regina's skin. Every moment of tension, every cell in Regina burned. When the bra slid from Emma's fingertips and hit the floor, every pore felt like a pinpoint of light. Emma wondered if they would survive this intact—this transference of energy, of memory. Emma could feel Regina's every desire pouring forth from hidden dark places she had no doubt punished herself by fostering. She was witness to somebody else's healing as much as to their agony.
"Regina…"
"Shut up." Regina snarled, transforming Emma's features from her usual debilitating insecurity to something much, much more powerful.
Emma watched her own face morph and struggle with agonizing emotion. Regina was as much a bundle of insane tensions in Emma's actual body as she seemed to have been in her own. So Emma waited. Naked and still, Emma breathed in and out with Regina's agonizing want.
In the end they chickened out, mumbling about needing rest and full days ahead. Emma once again slept restlessly in the guest room. It was followed by another morning of Regina doing her makeup and selecting her outfit. They went off to their respective work places for another day. Emma should have hoped that she would start to feel normal, but the lines were blended and shadowed.
Emma
The word "me" droned in Emma's head until it lost meaning. Me…me…me… she tried to focus on paperwork, but she was in the middle of a non-existential identity crisis. She blinked and stretched trying to feel like herself. She was unsettled, but yet she existed. What was left of her existed and lived on.
The strangest thing about switching bodies had to be actually spotting herself around town. Having decided to take their lunches at the exact same time, Emma and Regina nodded at one another from across the street before entering Granny's minutes apart. Later, Emma would decide that it hadn't been a coincidence. Something ominous was already in the air.
"Sheriff Swan's lunch is on me," Emma smirked as Red's jaw had hit the ground. Behind her, Regina strode in wearing Emma's blue leather jacket and her favorite jeans and—well, her.
"Of course, Mayor Mills." Red took the cash that Emma handed over, while the real Regina sidled up next to her at the counter and ordered a salad. Emma swept one heel sideways and Regina added a grilled cheese to the order.
"Carbs, Sheriff…" Regina as Emma could be heard muttering. She earned another kick. "Madame Mayor!"
"Much better." Emma smirked, knowing that to observers around them, it looked as though Regina was being an absolute jerk toward Emma. Fun times.
They walked out together aware that everyone in Granny's was staring. The second they hit the sidewalk, both women started to laugh.
They stopped just as quickly.
"What the hell…" Regina's hand went for the gun that Emma always kept on her hip, but the gun wasn't there.
"Shit, haven't you been armed this entire time?" Emma hissed. They moved closer together.
Around them, with golden swords all drawn, were twenty or more men (and Emma noted two women) in red leather pants and red armor.
"What is the meaning of this?" Emma shouted, stepping ahead of Regina before she could pull a power trip that might give away their rearranged identities. For some reason, she felt it important—now more than ever—to make sure that nobody knew about their circumstances.
"Cousin, we have business with the Sheriff, not with you." The former District Attorney turned false and former King, leveled a sword at the person he believed to be Emma Swan.
"Speak plainly you pompous ass." Emma used Regina's best 'fuck off' look as King George attempted to maneuver past her. She grabbed his arm, wrenched it sideways at just the right angle, and broke his wrist.
His howl of pain was enough to get the rest of the fight started. The armed guards rushed toward Emma and Regina both.
"Run!" Emma shouted at Regina behind her. But Regina, knowing that her own body was in jeopardy, and that the body she inhabited was actually stronger and faster, leapt forward instead.
At their feet, King George continued to scream in pain. "Kill them both!" He shrieked.
"The curse only delayed the inevitable, dearies." A voice emerged from just behind both women, and then with a swoosh, the armed group attacking was frozen.
"The inevitable what?" Regina in Emma's body shouted at Rumpelstiltskin who was standing beside them, regarding the scene with curiosity.
King George gave the answer, moaning in pain and anger. "The curse delayed our overthrow of Queen Regina. Rumpelstiltskin only kept her in power so that he could bring us all to this place."
"Never you mind, dearie." Rumpelstiltskin moved next to Emma—though she was in Regina's body—and handed her a golden sword. He whispered in Emma's ear, "Nice disguise, by the way. You look good in Regina's skin," and then he wandered off with a giggle.
The golden sword had a mind of its own, it seemed. Even with Regina's reflexes and strength, Emma was able to hold off the attack. Behind her, she heard a strange scraping sound. One of the guards managed to scrape her sword against Emma's thigh, but Emma smashed her elbow against the guard's nose and broke it.
The scraping sound emerged from the din once again.
It was Granny with a crossbow.
Someone managed to smash against Emma's ribcage with their elbow, but she easily hit the sword from their hands, and then with an arrow pointed at their neck, they acquiesced.
Standing an inch behind Emma, was Regina, still of course in Emma's body, and looking less like a Sheriff or Savior or whatever, than she should. Granny stared at them, her eyes narrowed suspiciously, while the remaining guards scattered and ran down the street.
Ignoring Granny for a moment, Emma turned and clasped Regina's hand. To Granny, it would have looked as though Regina was comforting Emma which would have seemed really odd, but right now, neither the Mayor nor the Sheriff gave a shit.
"They wanted to kill us both." Regina whispered.
"Yeah, looks like it." Emma responded. "Granny, thank you, so much…"
"Anything for the Charmings. And for…well…" Granny blinked at both women then nodded and turned around to go back into her diner.
"You're hurt…"