I heard you like magic?
Regina finds out Emma has been staying at Granny's every time her parents don't want an audience, and offers her a room in the mansion instead. No ulterior motives, of course.
Rated M for safety (expletives, intimate thoughts), and a potential future chapter 2 - both wlw, obviously
Kudos for the prompt to wannabanauthor on tumblr (where else?!) Departure from the usual OTP, but good to keep it fresh to keep the writers block at bay! Let me know what you think :)
Chapter 1: I heard you like magic?
"Shouldn't you be out, painting the town Red, Swan?"
The familiar, high-pitched voice cut across the stillness of the late shift at Granny's diner and interrupted Emma's sad excuse for a Friday evening.
She looked up from her notepad, closing it as soon as she noticed who was interrupting her peace. The impeccably dressed, eternally poised, and perfectly put-together Mayor of Storybrooke was making her way smoothly to her booth. By contrast, Emma gazed upon the intruder with a long Sundae spoon hanging from her slightly agape mouth, golden hair in its usual state of disarray.
She remembered a time not too long ago when Regina's words would have made her bristle, taken immediately as an insult and responded to in kind. But it had been a number of months, bordering on a year, since she'd grown comfortable with the idea of friendship between the two of them… well, comfortable-ish.
She wasn't sure if Regina knew what friendship was, anyway. The Mayor of Storybrooke wasn't exactly known for letting her hair down and connecting with people. But still, it made her sad to think of Regina all alone in her stunning mansion on a Friday night.
That must be why she's here, thought Emma. She must be looking for her surprising closest friend.
No, she thought, Regina calling someone a close friend still feels weird.
"Hi Regina," she replied, simply. "Didn't fancy yourself a quiet night in, either?" She teased back.
"If you checked the calendar I shared with you, dear, you'd know that Henry is at a sleepover for Sam's birthday," Regina tsked in her usual pseudo-judgemental tone.
Emma tried to ignore the small but noticeable physical reaction in her chest when Regina used that particular endearment for her. She wasn't even sure that she had noticed she'd said it. Emma certainly wasn't going to be the one to point it out.
"Believe me, I've been around Henry enough to know an evening with him is anything but quiet. I chose my words deliberately," her words lacked the edge of their earlier spats. She didn't actually want to upset her adversary, but she wasn't ready to concede, either. '...to tease you, dummy' she finished silently.
"Oh," the other woman replied, uncharacteristically short of words.
"So what brings you to Granny's, when you have the entirety of Whole Foods in your giant kitchen?" Emma ploughed ahead, unperturbed.
"Oh, well I called at your loft and you weren't there, so here I am," she said quietly. Noticing her companion's raised brow, she elaborated. "I had a bath, thought it'd be relaxing. But it turns out that my house is much too big for one person, and with Henry being there all the time I'm seldom alone. I guess I'm just not used to peace and quiet."
Emma's heart flat-out somersaulted. She hadn't expected Regina's answer to be so… direct?
She went looking for me? The thought refused to be silenced, and Emma refused to acknowledge her physical response to it.
She felt a warm flush creep across her cheeks as she tried - unsuccessfully - to not picture Regina enjoying a bath, Regina's perfect skin peering through soap suds, Regina in a plush white towel, Regina…
Dangerous, she cautioned herself. Get it together.
"Ah," she settled on, not trusting her voice to hold against the feelings she was definitely not feeling. "Sorry, you should have messaged if you wanted an evening at the Rabbit Hole. I've been kicked out for the evening."
"So I found out," Regina blushed, her olive skin briefly overtaken by the pink-and-red tones that betrayed her embarrassment. The image was burned into her minds' eye, of David peering around the door, out of breath with a hastily-grabbed blanket around his waist. She hadn't stayed a single second after ascertaining that Emma wasn't there.
"Yeah, it's not the first time," Emma explained, full of chagrin. "Once a month or so they have their 'extra special date night' and I get exiled to my old stomping grounds," she swallowed down the bile and gestured to the rooms behind the diner. "I offered, the first time, just after they found each other again. I don't mind, really. But it's certainly more fun here when Ruby's around."
Regina ignored the way her muscles tensed at the mention of the young, charming brunette. Emma was allowed to have other friends. She definitely didn't have any kind of claim on her time. But Ruby was especially attractive and that made Regina feel a kind of heat she wasn't willing to admit even to herself.
"If you were hoping I'd comment on 'extra special date night,' you're sorely mistaken," she said, glad to still have the ability to 'poof' herself away from such disgusting displays of affection.
"I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable, Regina," Emma fought to keep an even tone, despite the defences that had rushed up when she noticed her friend's discomfort. "Quite the opposite," she murmured to herself, enjoying the way that Regina's smooth skin scrunched at her brows in the telltale sign of her embarrassment.
"Well," the businesslike tone was back. "I hate to think of you banished to this faraway kingdom whenever your parents feel like being intimate," she swallowed, her perfect, red-stained lips twisting against the words which were so distasteful to her. Emma fought to not think about kissing the grimace away. Limited success, again.
"What do you suggest?" Emma countered, feeling bold.
"Well, I do have more than one spare room going, Em-ma." It was soft, uncertain, perhaps. Spoken tentatively in the stillness of the quiet hour, as if she was afraid it might break the spell of their unlikely friendship. Regina chuckled at the thought - her skills in the art of spellcasting were unmatched. But this particular kind of spell, well, she didn't have any experience to speak of here.
"Is that an invitation?" Emma replied, equally breathless. She was entranced by the way that Regina savoured both syllables of her short name, captivated by her presence as the brunette moved an inch closer and rolled her eyes.
An eyebrow raise, an affectionate pinch to the nose and an eye roll was Regina's unspoken response, with a bark of laughter to ease the tension.
"So that's a yes?" Emma returned, not willing to be painted the fool if she'd let her hopes get ahead of herself.
"Yes, Emma," she replied fondly, leaning forwards slightly. Her sweet breath fanned crisp apple cider and something entirely Regina across Emma's face, and the latter parted her lips, convincing herself she could taste her. She blinked, and the moment passed, much to Emma's dismay. "Go and get your things, you idiot, you're always welcome at the mansion."
Emma almost put her foot in her mouth and reminded Regina that there had been a long time where she most definitely hadn't been welcome at the mansion, but she caught herself at the last minute. Whatever this friendship was, she wasn't willing to lose it.
It had been a long time since she had considered the other woman an adversary, and she had surprised herself to settle into enjoying their camaraderie in co-parenthood, as well as the odd alliance they had formed as co-defenders of Storybrooke. If she was being honest with herself - why was that so hard? - she'd had an out-and-out crush on the Mayor for more than a few months. But it couldn't happen. It would be too messy, and Regina wasn't a fan of mess - in fact, she was the antithesis of it.
Let's not go getting ahead of ourselves, Emma thought, she's offered you the guest room, not her hand in marriage or even an invitation to her bedroom. Still, she was thrilled to discover upon reaching her room that she had in fact packed her nicer pyjamas - the ones without ratty holes in them, and the only pair she owned that were not made out of sweatpant cotton. Can't hurt, she smiled to herself.
~. ~
Not wanting to waste any time after Emma returned from her rented bedroom with a sad excuse for an overnight bag in tow, Regina soon engulfed them in a cloud of purple smoke. They arrived moments later at the mansion, the last tendrils of the teleportation cloud diffusing across the smooth marble floor as if it were water disappearing into sand.
Emma wasn't sure she'd ever get used to Regina's unconventional mode of transportation, despite it having saved their skins multiple times in the last few years. If she exaggerated her stumbling to get a reaction from her magic friend, she would not be the one to admit it. Regina rolled her eyes but grabbed Emma's arm to steady her nonetheless.
Bingo, Emma chuckled silently.
As soon as Emma had stabilised herself, Regina dropped her arm, as if burned, and stretched her fingers to dispel the warm sensation that she felt at their touch.
"I trust you remember where your room is," Regina said by way of breaking the moment, lost in remembering the feeling of the hard muscles of Emma's biceps under her perfectly trimmed fingertips and blushing at the recognition of how much she enjoyed the sensation.
"So it's my room now, is it?" Emma teased.
"Well, it is yours for the evening, if you'd still like to take me up on my generous offer," Regina threw back, unperturbed. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she murmured to herself.
Emma remembered, of course. She had only stayed over a handful of times, Henry's last birthday, the day after the incident at the town line, the day after the Enchanted Forest-
There were some things best left un-remembered.
Regina's house was, to the untrained eye, a perfectly pristine show home. Clean, crisp and without much personality. But Emma's eyes were very well trained - both in her role as sheriff, and with her mild obsession over the house's owner. She saw the small photographs in inconspicuous places, the pencilled height chart that Regina couldn't bring herself to paint over, and the touches of fairytale and fashion blended somehow seamlessly together in a perfectly balanced hodge-podge that Emma loved.
"I'll show myself up, then," Emma said gruffly. She wasn't sure if the offer had just been a room, or if she was expected - welcomed? - to join Regina for a quiet Friday night in?
"Don't take too long up there, Emma," Regina replied in a low, sultry tone. Emma's brain short-circuited for a moment as she processed the pure sex dripping from her counterpart's voice. Fuck, that was unexpected. Perhaps Regina was just trying to throw her off-balance for her own amusement.
Wouldn't be the first time, Emma laughed to herself.
Either way, she didn't trust herself to reply, let alone meet Regina's eyes to see if it had been intentional. Instead, she found her mind falling over itself as she considered the implications of Regina's offer. Emma could hear the smirk in her voice as she continued.
"This house is awfully big if I'm down here by myself," she called back over her shoulder. "I'll be in the lounge," she added in her regular tone as she made her way to the kitchen to procure some drinks and snacks.
Emma picked up her pace as she headed to her guest room, situated across the wide open staircase from Regina's room. She felt like a teenage girl trespassing in her crush's childhood home, giddy with Regina's everything. She smiled as she passed her son's bedroom, grateful for the calming presence of his familiar scent. Regina's strict approach had clearly moulded him into a much more orderly and clean teenager than she had ever been, which was a pleasant surprise for her nostrils.
Soon she found herself unpacking her overnight bag into the chest of drawers, blushing as she hid her vibrator underneath her change of clothes. She hadn't really expected company, and if her parents were so unabashedly getting some, she was damned if she couldn't enjoy her evening solo… at least that had been the plan.
She paused for a moment, deliberating over whether to put her pyjamas on or not. She didn't think Regina had a night out on the town in mind, but it was always hard to tell with the Mayor of Storybrooke. Shaking her head at herself, she reasoned Regina's words and actions suggested a cosy night in between friends. She quickly changed into the light faux-satin shorts and tank top combo, grabbing a sweater and the red nail polish she had taken on a whim as she left the room.
~. ~
Regina, to her credit, feigned neutrality when Emma strolled confidently into the room, dressed in the shortest shorts she had ever seen on her, clearly forgoing her bra in her - correct - assumption that this was a slumber party. She could see the tantalising outline of Emma's perfect tits through the thin fabric of her tank top, and her throat went dry at the realisation. She swallowed thickly, allowing Emma to break the silence whilst she tried to form a coherent thought. Such perfect fucking legs, was the first sentence that formed itself, unwarranted. She blushed, caught in her staring.
Emma wanted to tease her, to ask if she liked what she saw. But she wasn't really sure what this was, and didn't want to push her luck. It all felt quite tentative. Besides, Regina was wearing her trademark matching silk pyjama set. It wasn't quite as revealing as Emma's ensemble, with long trousers flowing like water down Regina's legs, but somehow that made it -made her - even more desirable. And in any case, she had left the shirt unbuttoned just enough for the teasing hint of her smooth curves to register at first glance. Emma tried not to make it obvious that she was appraising the view.
"Ok, I'm not really sure what this is," Emma admitted, breaking the thick tension with a smile. "But my best guess is a slumber party, which actually isn't too dissimilar to what I had planned, anyway," she added, gesturing to her nail polish and Regina's assortment of popcorn, wine and peanut butter M&Ms.
"You want to paint our nails and watch a movie?" Regina asked, her tone unreadable.
"I can think of worse ways to spend a Friday night, Regina," she deadpanned.
"I guess a solo dinner at Granny's is much sadder, you're right." It was said with a cute - yes, cute - tongue stuck out at her. Over the years - and in no small part thanks to the juvenile influence from the at-times-immature blonde - Regina had grown into her more playful side. The faux rude gesture didn't hurt, because Emma knew that Regina had her beat there.
"In fairness to me, I think you'd have found it much sadder if you'd have found me at The Rabbit Hole," she bartered.
"Why would we go to that dive, when we can just as easily drink ourselves silly here, with far fewer audience members to watch any regretful decisions we might make?" Regina challenged.
It took the breath out of Emma's lungs, and Regina must have noticed the crestfallen look on her companion's face. She immediately backtracked.
"Like, I don't know, giving Leroy the time of day," she clarified, "Or heaven forbid, someone videoing my dancing prowess." Testing the waters.
Emma feigned throwing up at the mention of Leroy to ease some of the tension, and swallowed the lump that had formed at the poisonous idea that Regina would regret her, or spending time with her, or God forbid, kissing her. The feeling was the same and it raged a wildfire in her chest. She tried to get her breathing under control, and tried to make it seem from the outside that the floor hadn't briefly disappeared under her feet.
Emma was used to rejection. She'd had a lifetime of building preventative barriers to avoid putting herself in the position where it may happen again. It was why she had harboured this unrequited something for Regina for such a long time. Not worth the chance. She hadn't realised how much she had let Regina past them. Aside from Henry, and maybe her mother, she didn't think another person had tried so hard to scale her defences, even if Regina would deny such a thing fiercely.
"Would you like some wine?" came a slow, safe voice from the other side of the couch, out of reach of her minor meltdown.
"Yes," Emma replied, too quickly. "Yes please."
Regina had in fact detected Emma's response to her careless words, and she moved with deliberate slowness as she gestured towards the spot next to her on the large couch and reached to pour them both a glass of wine. Regina poured heavy, but for the moment, it was exactly what Emma needed.
Emma landed on the soft couch surprisingly gracefully, counter to Regina's expectations of her blonde whirlwind. She folded her long legs underneath her, bare skin drawing Regina's eyes. Regina reached across the snack tray to pass her the wine, maintaining eye contact for fear that Emma would run away.
"Thanks Regina," she said easily, the last of the tension slipping away as she smiled broadly at her. "Cheers," she breathed, raising her glass towards Regina's by way of peace offering.
"This is nice," Regina replied. "Thanks for humouring me with this, dear. It feels much more right-sized with you here."
Regina was far away, woolgathering as they both sipped their wine, remembering the large, barren halls of Leopold's castle and intentionally focusing on the warmth of her current situation that was such a far cry from her life back in the days that she'd rather not remember.
"It's my pleasure," Emma chanced, and was not surprised at how truthful those words had sounded. Regina gave her a smile that was so soft and genuine, she felt the warmth settle into her skin. It felt like there was something unspoken in her expression, like she wanted to offer something but didn't have the words. Regina shifted her posture towards Emma, opening herself up physically to the other woman.
Emma took another gulp of her wine and debated whether to keep it light and breezy or take advantage of the situation and the subtle hints Regina had been dropping.
She chickened out.
She couldn't do it.
She couldn't take the chance that Regina might not want her.
Instead, she hesitated and decided on a halfway house.
"Do you want me to paint your nails?" She offered. "Perhaps we can watch a romcom?"
Is she really as stupid as she lets on? Regina thought. I don't think I was that subtle.
Still, painting nails meant sitting quite a lot closer than their current position, and it meant Emma would hold her hand, perhaps even for a really long time.
I used to slaughter kingdoms, Regina chastised herself silently.
And yet here she was, blushing like a schoolgirl because the girl she had an embarrassing, wildly inappropriate, uncertain-whether-it-was-requited-or-not crush on might hold her hand. It was nauseating.
"I don't think I ever had a friend paint my nails before," Regina admitted, her voice small and detached.
"Only one way to rectify that, then," Emma said, surprised, not leaving Regina any time to dwell on her quiet sadness.
First, she grabbed the TV Remote from Regina's hand and hit play, reasoning that she'd happily watch whatever her host had queued. She wouldn't really be paying much attention anyway.
"Disney re-runs, Regina?" Emma asked, eyebrows raised. "You literally live in a fairytale."
Regina blushed, and Emma tried very hard not to think about how beautiful she looked with the subtle pink suffusing her cheeks.
"Must've been Henry... He's always got that stuff on, for 'research' or something," Regina explained in a cagey voice. "Here, give me that."
The usual commanding tone was back, Madame Mayor in all her state, dismissing Emma with calm authority. Emma almost felt like a schoolchild, upbraided by the teacher for not handing in her homework or something. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling. She chuckled and handed Regina the remote with a warm smile. Regina settled on a rom-com that Emma hadn't heard of before, and soon the room was filled with the playful music that accompanied the title credits.
Emma smiled to herself as she pulled a piece of kitchen towel from the roll, took a large gulp of wine and reached for Regina's hand. It was a touch that lingered like the last hours of daylight in the middle of summer. Deep breaths. Be subtle, Emma, she cautioned herself.
It wasn't as though they'd never touched before - far from it. There had been several occasions when they were under the threat of death that they'd clasped hands, or been pressed up against each other, or joined together for a group hug around their shared son. But this was different. They were completely alone, and Emma savoured the prolonged and intentional touching of skin on skin. It was fucking everything.
Regina wished she had a spell that would let her read minds. There was not a lot that she wouldn't do to know if Emma, surprisingly stoic Emma - who was calmly pressing her fingers and coating her nails in a deep, sensual red colour - was feeling the same intense connection.
Regina used her free hand to reach for her wine, polished off her glass and with a quick look at her temporary nail artist, took a moment to break contact and pour another one, and to top up Emma's.
~. ~
Regina was surprised to Learn that Emma was actually quite skilled in the art of the manicure, and Emma… Well… Emma was having a hard time thinking about anything at all now Regina's perfectly painted red fingernails were complete, and their owner was stretching her fingers, admiring her handiwork.
Emma eyed the movement of Regina's fingers very carefully, delicious heat and tension growing with every second. Her counterpart curled her fingers and blew on them, ostensibly making sure the polish was dry. But the expression on her face told a different story, that she knew exactly what she was doing to Emma. As a result, Emma's head completely emptied and she swallowed against the dryness that had suddenly enflamed her throat. She took a moment to settle herself as Regina smirked almost imperceptibly.
Well, Emma thought, it's now or never. She took a swig from her second glass of wine for courage.
"Am I really to believe that the formidable Evil Queen Regina, Mayor of all of Storybrooke, is actually scared in her own home, or have you lured me here under false pretences?"
Regina swallowed her wine uncomfortably. She hated being vulnerable, but she didn't want to get Emma's hopes up under untrue information, and she knew with Emma's unusual talents that she wouldn't get away with it if she lied. She tried to ignore the part of her that was screaming to change the subject, but then again didn't she owe the Saviour this much?
"Em-ma," she began. She paused, considering how to phrase it right. Feelings… Right. As if that were Regina's strong suit…
Emma cut her off, seeing how much she was struggling with the question.
"Regina, you don't have to answer if I'm overstepping," she spoke evenly, hoping against hope that Regina wouldn't call her bluff. Regina appreciated the get out clause that Emma was offering her, but knew she wanted to push ahead. It was the only way to achieve what she wanted.
"I-" her voice broke. She took a steadying breath. Another gulp of wine, not quite emptying the glass. She supposed she was starting to feel the effects, a gentle haze entering her periphery. She leaned into the lack of filter she sometimes gained from the buzz of alcohol. "The story of why I feel uncomfortable in the big house without company is a long one, dear. And it's a bit pitiful…"
She paused, deep in thought. Emma saw her anguish and tried to relieve her of it.
"I don't want to diminish your worry, Regina. God knows there's a lot of stuff in both of our pasts that would keep anyone up at night hearing strange noises in the dark." the blonde replied. The two shared a friendly smile, which felt to Emma like a warm hug that she didn't want to surface from. "But I have to point out - you are literally the most powerful person I know. I'm pretty sure the whole town has been afraid of you at some point or another. And there isn't anyone actively coming after you - for once."
"I know that, and hopefully one day there will be enough time to share the whole story with you," she conceded. "But not tonight," came the hedge.
Emma wisely knew not to push it.
"Well in that case, I'm very glad you felt like you could ask me over," she replied.
"Em-ma," Regina spoke softly, voice full of anticipation, and Emma couldn't move, waiting for the answer to the second, riskier, part of her question. She felt a familiar energy in the air as Regina's magic rushed around them and turned the lights down, giving the room a decidedly romantic air to it. Emma swallowed heavily.
Regina moved slowly towards her as she spoke, leaning across the barrier of snack food that separated them, and raising Emma's pulse with every slight inclination of her head.
"Yes, Regina?" Emma's response came thickly, though she wasn't sure if she was giving Regina permission to keep speaking, or for something else entirely.
When she felt Regina's lips tentatively reach hers, Emma couldn't quite believe it was finally, finally, happening. She wasted no seconds to any uncertainty in her response, not wanting Regina to mistake anything about this moment. This fucking perfect moment.
Regina's lips continued to fall softly over hers, the firm but gentle pressure insistent as Emma struggled to stop her hands from roaming. Kissing was one thing, but that did not necessarily mean that Regina was offering a full invitation to cover her person, with hands or kisses. Maybe both, Emma's lust-filled mind raced ahead of her rational self.
As much as Emma wanted to explore Regina's tantalising curves and experience all of her, she maintained her firm but proper grip on Regina's arms. She allowed herself to become fully lost in the feeling of kissing her, the sensation of smooth and warm skin against her face, her expensive perfume almost overpowering, but somehow instead heightening her other senses and fitting just right.
When she pulled away to breathe, Emma felt a flood of heat to her stomach as she took in Regina's wild expression. Usually so reserved and pulled-together, this Regina was anything but. Her pupils were blown wide open, and Emma could see the affection, and the want pouring out of them in waves. There was an energy that surrounded this Regina with a crackling haze and a furious intensity. Emma recognised it as her magic, run haywire with desire.
"Come here," Emma breathed, voice heavy with feeling. She forced herself to stay quiet amongst the tide of qualifiers that fought to cushion any potential rejection, not allowing herself to say no worries if not.
Regina simply stood up, placed the snack tray on the coffee table, and climbed back onto the sofa, a couple of feet further along than where she had alighted, making clear her intention of placing one toned leg either side of Emma's. The seated woman very quickly made space once she knew what Regina was about. Once she was comfortable straddling Emma, she finally spoke.
"I thought you would never ask, dear," she teased, her voice full of lust, a tone that Emma had caught on a few prior occasions. She was glad that she had picked up the subtle signals for what they were, but you can never be too careful.
"I know, it took me long enough." Emma's words were punctuated by a soft kiss at the side of her lips. "But Regina, I don't want there to be any misunderstandings here."
"Mmhmm," came the sensual reply. Between wanting breaths, Regina elaborated on her moan. "What exactly do you mean by that?"
"I think I might-" she couldn't finish, and it wasn't because she didn't want to. But it felt too real, too vulnerable.
Regina waited patiently, drawing ghosts of circles over Emma's uncovered shoulders. The energy from her magic was still there, but it was refined in, controlled, unthreatening, safe. Emma took a breath and started again.
"Regina, I need to know that this isn't a game for you," she settled on. "I don't think I could take it if this is just a one off thing, or if you are playing with me," she pleaded.
"Em-ma, Em-ma, Em-ma," came the reassuring reply, punctuated with a soft kiss to her trembling lips. "Do you really think me that cruel?"
"No," the reply was rushed, sobering. It wasn't lost on Regina that this headstrong, sometimes foolish, wonder of a creature would have every right to have believed it to be so. It spoke volumes of how far they had come since they first met that there wasn't a hint of doubt in Emma's short but clear negation.
"I want this," Regina continued, placated. She gestured across the space between them, as if her meaning was obvious. Emma still wanted to hear her say it, so Regina continued. "I want you," she clarified.
"Oh." The small but victorious sound came joyfully from Emma's lips, and she broke into a heartbreaking smile as Regina nodded gently at her.
Their answering kiss was a bit less chaste than the last.
"Well, in that case, you have an open invitation to come and stay whenever you need respite from the happy couple," Regina offered, trying not to dwell on her recent encounter with the pair in question.
Emma chuckled happily, dusting Regina's face with butterfly kisses in her happiness.
"Well that is a welcome relief, thank you Regina," she whispered.
"Although," Regina started grandstanding. Emma paused her movement, waiting. "Perhaps we can leave the guest room to itself?"
Emma's heart jumped, considering the implication. To stay with Regina, in her room. She wasn't sure if she'd ever recover.
"That sounds nice, I'd like that," Emma replied. "Though Regina?"
"Yes, dear."
"I thought you'd never ask," Emma teased, chuckling at her own wit.
Her laughter was soon stolen from her, though, as Regina tired of the pause in their kissing and resumed where they had left off.
Emma half-noticed when Regina made a subtle gesture with her left hand and the rom-com which they'd been carefully ignoring was replaced with some soft music. She'd never had Regina pegged as the romantic type, but it was a pleasant surprise. And she had to admit, the magic was hot. Not as hot as its owner, but still…
Emma was looking forward to exploring what else Regina could do. To be completely honest, she was mostly looking forward to just exploring Regina.
~. ~
