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Today started in the most deplorable of ways.
Small, sticky hands shook her awake, accompanied by the impatient repeat of “mommy, mommy”. Evidently, Hope thought she was whispering, but unfortunately, at four years old, she still hadn’t quite managed to master the art of being quiet. Roni blamed her other mother for that.
She groaned, forcing her eyes open to see their daughter hanging over her, her face close and her warm breath smelling like milk. The alarm clock on her bedside table told her it was only four hours after she’d closed up the bar and gone to bed – for heaven’s sake, it was supposed to be her turn to sleep in!
“Mommy,” Hope repeated, her brows furrowed. Although Jane was the one who’d carried her, Roni couldn’t help but think their girl resembled her as well, if only in her mannerisms. Hope was known for sending threatening glares to other kids in the playground, mostly when she wanted to get the swing set to herself, and maybe her mom never particularly did her best to discourage her.
“What’s the matter, dear?”
“Mama burned the toast again.” Hope’s nose crinkled in disgust, and that too reminded her of herself. “I can’t eat that. It’s not tasty at all. It could get me sick.”
Despite her tired, foggy mind, Roni smiled, pulling her daughter towards her and tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. Her ponytail was a mess, and upon closer inspection, she was wearing her T-shirt inside out as well, seeing as how the swans on the fabric were only vaguely visible and the care label stuck out at the side.
“Hope!” Her wife appeared in the doorway to their bedroom, looking equally bedraggled, her short hair damp and the fly of her black skinny jeans unzipped – scratch that, those were Roni’s skinny jeans. Jane held up her arms in defeat, sighing desperately. “I told you not to wake mommy up. I was gonna get you something from the bakery – I mean, something very nutritious and with lots of vitamins,” she corrected when seeing Roni’s unimpressed expression.
Roni muttered something under her breath and sat up. No way she would be able to get any rest knowing her daughter was stuffing her face with donuts at seven-thirty in the morning. Before long, she was ladling oatmeal in two bowls, adding cinnamon and raisins, and Jane was offering her a sheepish smile as she took one of them in gratitude.
“Sorry, babe,” she said, mouth full of oatmeal. She caught herself, swallowing quickly and almost choking in the process. Hope, eating beside her with a napkin tucked under her chin, rolled her eyes and bumped her glass of milk into her Ma’s direction.
“Try not to die before dropping our daughter off, darling,” Roni said, tempted to hand her wife a napkin as well. At least, Hope had inherited her table manners. “I can’t drive her in my pajamas, and you’re already late.”
Jane’s eyes raked over her body, grin widening as she took in the black lace tank top and matching panties, pausing at the smooth, bare legs. “Hey, I wouldn’t have slept through my alarm if you hadn’t come onto me like that at three in the morning. You know I can never resist you.” She ducked, barely avoiding the slap directed at her arm.
“Hope,” Roni hissed, nodding towards the child, who was happily munching away on her breakfast and much too distracted by an oddly shaped raisin to pay attention to her mothers’ familiar banter. “And all I did was take off my clothes.”
Jane wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then licked the oatmeal off it. “Exactly,” she said. “You know what that does to me.”
“Idiot.” But like always, there was fondness behind the word, and Jane’s grin only grew further, green eyes sparkling with joy. She’d been her idiot as long as she remembered, ever since they were teenagers and Jane had accidentally run over the apple tree in the community garden Roni had been tasked to look after. Almost thirty years later, the feigned insult still managed to make Jane weak in the knees.
After some urging from Roni, her daughter was finally ready to leave, her hair now braided neatly and her T-shirt put on correctly, hoisting up her hideous Snow White backpack while her other mother searched the kitchen for her car keys. Roni dangled them in front of her, sighing, and she took them with a smirk, planting a kiss on her wife’s lips. It was supposed to be quick, but like always, she got caught up in the scent of apple shampoo and cinnamon and forgot herself, hand slipping underneath the tank top to trace warm, soft skin.
Roni couldn’t contain a moan, flashes of last night coming back to her – Jane always knew just where to touch her to soften her up, like she’d drawn a mental map of all the sensitive spots on her body. With difficulty, she forced herself to push this infuriatingly charming woman off her. “You might as well not leave at all if you’re going to continue doing that,” she said, trying to sound annoyed.
Jane knew her too well to fall for it. She flashed her a grin, following it up with another kiss on her cheek, then grabbed her coat and swung it over her shoulder. “Come on, kid. Mommy is making us late.”
“Excuse me?!” Only Jane was already out the door, and Hope ran up to her to hug her briefly before skipping after her other mother.
Roni shook her head. Definitely one of the bad mornings.
Her phone vibrated, and she rolled her eyes, a smile already tugging at the corner of her lips, knowing who it was. They didn’t have anyone else, after all. But the three of them were more than enough. It was everything. Sure, sometimes they were watching a Disney movie with Hope squished comfortably between them, and they would look at each other, suddenly feeling like something was missing, but it was never about them. They’d been saving up for another child for a while now, but the bar’s income was dwindling, and Jane had been fired from the fire station last year, having to take on a lower-paying office job instead.
Jane had sent her a selfie of her and Hope, sitting in the car with their seatbelts on, blowing kisses to the camera. H said she forgot to wish you a good day, the text said, and Roni’s heart glowed.
Lucky person she was, that even the most deplorable of mornings were, in fact, more than tolerable.
Something absolutely insane was going on. One moment, Jane had been living a normal life with the two people she loved most in the world; the next, an evil bitch was trying to take over the bar, and a cheeky kid called Lucy was trying to worm her way into her heart – and succeeding too. Then, they were in the community gardens, and bright purple lightning was thundering from the sky, dark clouds swirling around them, and Lucy sobbed into her arms while Roni clutched their crying daughter to her body.
Henry was on the ground, his face white as a sheet, blood seeping through his fingers as he pushed into the wound in his stomach. Jacinda was trembling, tears leaking from her eyes as she begged him to stay with her. It hurt, it hurt much more than it should, like Jane was the one fighting for her life, and it took everything in her not to scream and hurry towards the dying man’s side.
Then, Jacinda kissed him, and a shockwave of rainbow light flashed through the air, almost knocking her off her feet.
People gasped on all sides, and it wasn’t only because Henry suddenly sat up, his coat brand new, no gaping hole to be seen – they remembered.
Jane turned to her wife, only she was Emma, and that wasn’t her wife, millions of memories rushing back to her. “Regina,” she faltered.
“Emma.” She was breathing deeply, brown eyes glittering, a reenactment of that moment at the town line all those years ago, and that was when Emma realized what had happened, and she cursed.
Regina didn’t know what to do. Such strong emotions swirled through her chest, and she thought her heart might explode with the force of it. She was still holding her daughter, only she wasn’t her daughter at all, never hers to claim. Their son was right there, alive and well, with his wife and child, and oh, how delightful it was to see him again, how she longed to rush to him and lecture him and hug him to death. And then there was Emma, her idiot, gaping at her like a fish out of water, and dear god, they had been married, they’ve had sex, seen each other naked.
For a moment, she reveled in the feeling of it, bringing a finger to her lips – she’d kissed Emma. Every day.
Then, a rough voice shouted, “Emma!” and her whole world crumbled. She had to put Hope down, scared she’d drop her otherwise, stifling a sob as she watched Captain Guyliner jog towards them, a huge smile on his face, flailing that horrible hook of him about like it wasn’t a dangerous weapon. He took Emma in his arms, and she had to avert her gaze – she couldn’t see her wife smooching someone else, not yet. Not your wife, Regina, she reminded herself. It would be easy enough to slip a potion into that ridiculous flask of him and be rid of him forever, a voice suspiciously like the Evil Queen spoke up in her mind. It was soothing to consider it, though she knew she’d never do it.
“Stay away from my mama!” It was Hope’s frantic shriek that made her snap out of it. The girl was pounding her little fists into the pirate’s back with all the force she could muster, and she would’ve laughed if the truth of the situation wasn’t so heartbreaking.
“Hope, darling,” she said, gently dragging her away to cup her face, Killian swearing coarsely in the background, Emma pushing him aside to join the two of them, “it’s alright. It’s going to be fine.” Hope cried, utterly confused, and Emma and Regina both put their arms around her, like they had done so many times during the curse. Emma smelled like dish soap and the pizza she’d been eating earlier today, when everything had still been right and easy, and Regina selfishly wished the curse had never been broken. Her eyes met Emma’s, round and big, and her heart shattered like it had done so many times before.
Emma looked behind her. Killian was sound asleep on his back, heavy snoring filling up the room. He smelled of sweat and rum and the sea, and she couldn’t help but be disgusted by it. She’d never been a big fan, not even when she’d first started dating him, only it’d never been as hard to ignore it as right now.
Apples and cinnamon and vanilla detergent. Sometimes a lingering waft of booze and cigarettes, when Roni had been too exhausted to shower after locking up for the night, and then still, Jane hadn’t mind. Or Emma hadn’t mind. She wasn’t sure where she began and Jane started. Maybe it was more like a smoothie, Jane’s memories just more ingredients mixed into the whole.
For the first time since she’d become Jane, she felt like crying. She sniffled, wiping a tear from her face. Fucking shit curse. She’d been content with her husband, before; she’d filed away the ‘what-ifs’ and questions about her own sexuality and fit him into her life, created the happy ending her parents had always wanted for her. But now, now, all of that had come bubbling up, slapping her in the face.
Until then, everyone had been busy cleaning up the mess and returning home to Storybrooke, relieved to go back to their real selves. Seeing her parents again, after all that time, her little brother who wasn’t so little anymore, Killian, who attempted to kiss her at any possible moment. Each time he did it, her cursed reflexes told her to smack him, told her she was married to the best woman in the world, and she never wanted anyone else – muscle memory. It would take a while to get reacquainted with her husband. That was all. Maybe the real curse had only started now.
Emma took a decision and stumbled out of the room. After the coming home party, they’d all decided to stay at the Mayor’s mansion, not wanting to brutally separate Hope from the only two mommies she’d ever known. Regina had avoided looking at her all evening. Snow and David had assumed the two of them had been best gal pals living together as roommates, and she couldn’t get herself to correct them – she had the feeling Regina was embarrassed and wanted to forget about the whole thing, and when she considered consent and curses, bile rose up in her throat. She hoped she hadn’t scarred her best friend for life. Or even more than she already was. The last person Emma wanted to be like was Snow’s father.
She attempted to tiptoe towards the master bedroom, her steps annoyingly loud on the wooden floors. Killian had wanted to fuck her, obviously, or “make love,” as he’d called it, but the only thing she’d been able to think about was soft skin and loud, sexy moans, silky dark hair tickling her neck, and she’d lied that she was too exhausted. Suddenly, she felt for her father, having to live with cursed memories of him and Kathryn. Really, if they hadn’t defeated the fucking villain already, she’d show the bitch exactly what she thought of her.
Her heart was hammering in her throat when she closed the door behind her. Moonlight lit up the sleeping form of their daughter, Regina’s arm curled protectively around her. Emma inched towards them, careful not to make any noise, when she stubbed her toe on some object and hissed, swearing.
“If you wake her up, I will cut out your tongue.”
She jolted at the familiar voice in the dark, smirking at the thought of all the jokey responses she could give but couldn’t – they weren’t having sex anymore, probably never again, so no, alluding to what she used to do with her tongue wasn’t the best move. “Sorry,” she whispered instead, coming to a standstill next to the bed. “I couldn’t sleep.” Without you was the part she left out, ignoring the image of her wrapped around Roni, dozing peacefully. “I err – are we okay?” There was no answer, and she panicked, wondering if they weren’t, if she’d messed it all up. “I mean, I’m sorry if I, you know, took advantage of you—”
“You didn’t.”
“Oh. Okay. Good.” It was such a relief to hear her say that, and she plopped down onto the mattress, watching the glint in her brown eyes, the streak of light illuminating their daughter’s hair. Her daughter. Hers and Killian’s. Snow had given her a look of pity today, saying Hope would get used to Killian being her father soon enough, and she hadn’t been able to reply, mortified. Hope saying “daddy.” Hope no longer rolling her eyes or telling her to take off her shoes before entering the house. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe.
“I’m sorry as well. I… robbed Hope of her father.”
The crack in her voice stung, and without realizing what she was doing, Emma climbed under the covers, sliding against her daughter, finding Regina’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Regina gasped, and Emma knew she was close to tears. She thought of the wedding bands they were both wearing, and how no one had even noticed, and how she wondered if she wanted them to. “That wasn’t you, Regina,” she whispered, drawing soothing circles with her thumb like she’d done so many times when they were wives. “If anything, I’m lucky it was you. Imagine I’d had to do it by myself. Shit, I’d have messed her up so bad.” Regina chuckled, then sobbed, and Emma tightened her grip. “Hey, you’ll always be her mom. There’s no changing that now.”
Regina cried silently into the night, Emma never letting go of her hand, flushed with guilt because honestly, some selfish part of her wished the curse had never been broken at all.
When Regina woke up, it took her a while to remember her family had been torn apart. She’d watched them, mother and daughter, both sleeping soundly with that crease in their foreheads and the lazy smile tugging at their lips, until she couldn’t take it anymore and fled into the safety of the shower. It had been hell to watch Emma marry the filthy pirate, but this was a hundred times worse, having everything she ever wanted only to have it snatched away without warning.
Henry was already in the kitchen when she came down, unloading grocery bags with Lucy, and she smiled genuinely. At least, she still had her son and granddaughter. Lucy was ecstatic, and together they started on breakfast for the whole company.
She felt Henry’s eyes on her the whole time, knowing, mature eyes. He’d taken his chance as soon as Lucy went to greet Snow, David, and Neal at the door. “Mom?” he’d asked.
“Yes, dear?” She flipped a pancake, hoping he hadn’t noticed the tremor in her voice. He gave her a look, nodding towards the wedding ring she should’ve taken off but couldn’t. She turned to him, breath caught in her throat. “Please don’t mention it. It never happened.”
“Mom—”
But the Charmings interrupted, all smiles and disgustingly excited ‘good mornings,’ and for once, she was grateful. Soon, she was too busy cooking and barking orders to pay attention to the ache in her chest. Only when they all sat around the table and it was Hook sitting next to Emma and not her, she felt it again, making it hard to contribute to the conversation. Every few seconds, she caught the shimmer of Emma’s ring and was compelled to touch her own, chastising herself for not taking it off earlier. She was being petty. She had nothing to complain about; for a reformed villain, she had more than enough to be grateful for. That reasoning had worked before, and it would work again.
Then, Hook kissed Emma’s cheek, and the next moment, he screamed in agony.
Everybody stared at him, trying to figure out what on earth had happened, and when Regina spotted the dents in the back of his only hand and her daughter, sitting up in her chair with her fork pointed threateningly at the pirate, all she could do was laugh.
Emma caught her eye, and she knew she had to stop, that Emma wouldn’t find it funny, only Emma snorted and laughed too, clasping her hand over her mouth as she bent double, shaking.
“Our daughter just tried to impale me on her fork, and you’re encouraging it?!” The pirate looked from her to Emma to Hope, massaging the painful skin. Henry and Ella were hiding their faces in their coffee mugs, while Snow’s eyes had filled with tears, grasping for her husband’s hand.
“I’m not your daughter!” Hope called out, waving the fork about. “And you have to stop kissing Mama, or Mommy will come after you!”
Regina all but jumped up, needing to provide comfort to her child. Emma had been right. Hope would always be hers, even if she would have to share her with the one-hooked cretin, and she wasn’t about to just surrender her to him. Hope snuggled into her embrace, crying again – her darling girl was so confused, and she couldn’t bear it. It hadn’t helped that the bastard had only had eyes for Emma, not for the daughter he didn’t know, and she should probably empathize with him, but after all, she was still part Evil Queen.
Snow came to her aid, placing a soothing hand on Hope’s back. “Don’t worry, sweetie,” she said, offering a kind smile. “Your mommies are still best friends and will always love you.”
“Mom—” Emma interrupted.
“I know this must be scary, but—”
“Mom,” Emma repeated.
“Killian loves your mommy so, so much, they’re True—”
“Mom!” This time, Emma had leaped up, knocking her chair over. She was shaking, her chest heaving up and down. She wrung her hands together, looking down at the pirate, and oh, Regina’s pulse sped up, terrified that Emma would tell the truth and she’d be cast out so the True Loves could repair their marriage. “Leave her be. It’s too much for her. Just… leave her alone.” She wasn’t merely talking about their daughter: Regina could see it in the way her eyes shifted about, until they came to rest on her. Regina nodded, giving Hope’s shoulder a slight squeeze, and Emma exhaled, storming out of the dining room with hasty, clumsy strides.
“Emma!” Both the pirate and Snow hastened to follow, but Hook fell flat on the floor with a loud thud, and Snow paused midway, her mouth open in surprise.
“What the hell?” the pirate said, getting up, his hook aimed at Regina.
But Regina only stared at her daughter’s delicate hands, a wisp of pink smoke disappearing between her fingers. Magic. Hope had magic.
She couldn’t be more proud.
Emma was washing the dishes. Never mind that she hated it and that the mansion’s kitchen was equipped with a dishwasher; she needed to do something with her hands, something with an ounce of normalcy. Regina was drying, her lips pursed and her brows furrowed, and Hope sat behind them with her tablet and her headphones, watching some children’s cartoon. She would’ve forgotten the curse had broken if it hadn’t been for her wife, or ex-wife, or whatever the fuck the woman was to her right now, asking her if she could join her. The hesitance in Regina’s voice had killed her. It’d always been so easy, being with Roni. Like she had married her best friend. Which she kind of did, probably.
She felt another pang of guilt. What did it say about her that she missed her cursed life? For fuck’s sake, she was back with her family, back with her husband, who loved her so much he’d never given up on her, not even after all this time. It was more than she’d ever deserved, so what kind of person did it make her that she longed back to days where it was just the three of them existing with each other? Jesus. Regina could never know this. Way too awkward.
“Missed a spot, dear.” Regina pointed at the plate she’d only just placed in the rack, indicating a tiny blob of some undefined sauce, maybe maple syrup. Her lips tilted upwards, drawing attention to that scar of hers, and Emma wondered, had she really gotten it by falling off a horse when she was ten or was that the cursed version of events?
Emma scoffed, warm inside from the familiar teasing. This was what Jane and Roni had done. Automatically, she scooped up a cloud of soap and pushed it into Regina’s neck – Regina gasped, with that indignant “Emma!” – and then, she realized she’d done this to a former Evil Queen, and that she had magic now, and that she was so, so screwed. Bubbles flew through the air, Hope’s doing, who had left her tablet to join them in the fight, and amidst laughter and squealing, Emma suddenly found herself holding Regina’s left hand, the one with the ring – shit. She hadn’t taken it off yet?
“What’s going on here?” Of course, Snow couldn’t give them one moment alone. She wasn’t the only one who had come to investigate all the noise: David stood beside her, scratching his head, and Henry behind them, stifling a laugh, Killian regarding the whole scene with a frown. “You were having a soap fight?” Snow’s eyes lit up, like she expected to be invited to join in.
Regina huffed, straightening up and letting go of Emma’s hand. “Of course not, Snow. I, for one, am a bit more refined than that.”
Emma couldn’t help but snicker. “No, you’re not. Remember the chocolate mousse incident?”
Although she received a slap and a deathly glare in return, there was an unmistakable smile lying just behind Regina’s face, one that broke free when Hope called: “You had it all over your face, mommy!”
“I wasn’t myself; I was a barkeeper with a tattoo on my—”
“Oh, don’t play all innocent, your majesty. We both know what happened.” Emma was smirking for the first time they’d returned home, and maybe, maybe things wouldn’t have to change at all, maybe they were more Roni and Jane than they knew, well, except for the ring.
“I was inebriated!” Regina defended. “Which, if you recall, was your fault to begin with, Swan.”
“No, it wasn’t. That was all you.”
“Yes,” Hope said, eager to come to her mother’s aid. “Mama licked it off your face, and then you put the mousse on Mama as well and licked it off her face, and then I wanted some too, and then I had to take a bath!” Hope beamed up at them, not realizing everyone present in the kitchen had frozen, gaping at the three of them.
Shit. They probably should’ve discussed this before.
Regina held her breath. The truth was out. This was it. What had she been thinking? She should’ve buried all of her feelings, never spoken of that time again. What if Emma would start to resent her, avoid her? She couldn’t handle losing them, not her family, not her Emma and her Hope.
The one-handed wonder fought his way to the front, swaggering like he was already intoxicated. “Ho, ho, wait a minute,” he said, gesturing at the both of them. “You licked chocolate mousse off my wife’s face?”
Part of her wished to respond that wasn’t the only thing she’d licked, though she bit her tongue – she couldn’t ruin her friendship with Emma, not if she wanted to stay in her and Hope’s life, and that she did, so much.
Emma was bright red, rubbing her neck. “Uh,” she began, “Regina and I – err,” she glanced around the kitchen, “we’re married. Were married. Are?”
There was an uproar. Killian was shouting something, David dropped his mug, Henry snorted, and Snow gasped as if she’d never heard something so horrifying. The pirate stalked over to her, swinging his hook threateningly. “You!” he spat in Regina’s direction. “You did this! You always wanted this, and now you took your chance!”
She felt sick to the stomach. She couldn’t lose this. She just couldn’t. “No,” she croaked. “I was cursed, you thick-headed fool! I didn’t do anything.”
“Admit it. You seduced her when she wasn’t herself like the evil wench you are, and then –” He slammed his hook into the counter, making Hope startle and take refuge in her Mama’s side. “This was all your doing!”
The Evil Queen in her reared her head – nobody scared her children, and before she could stop herself, she was smirking at him and said: “Well, perhaps I did do some things. I suppose I did them better too, so you might have to step up your game.” The minute it left her mouth, she regretted it. Now she had ruined it. Emma would be furious, and she’d never see Hope again.
Hook charged at her, but she hadn’t even thought of poofing when Emma threw herself in front of her, arms wide, yelling “no!” He stopped, seething. “Let me through, love,” he said. “You don’t understand. She’s been planning this from the start. She’s in love with you!”
She’d always suspected he knew, with how possessive he was of Emma around her, cracking inappropriate jokes, but she thought he’d never tell – she’d believed he’d use it to blackmail her someday, not shout it out like this.
Emma turned around, her eyes wide. “Is that true?” she asked, suddenly so soft it sent shivers up Regina’s spine.
“Yes.” She supposed it was no use denying it. She heard Snow gasp, and though it was humiliating, she needed to behave like a Queen. Emma deserved no less. “But I swear, Emma. I had nothing to do with the curse. I wouldn’t do that to you. I would never take away your happy ending.”
“And yet, that’s what you did, your majesty!” Hook spat.
Emma stared at her, then looked down. It seemed Hope had tried to get her mother’s attention. She was smiling sweetly, her cheeks red and tear-stained. “Of course, mommy loves you,” she said. “She tells you every day. Have you forgotten?”
Then, Emma turned back to the pirate, and her heart shattered, or what was left of it anyway, and Emma sobbed. Hook grabbed her, baring his teeth. “Emma,” he said, “don’t you see how she’s been trying to tear us apart from the start? You need to make a decision, love. She’s no good for our daughter.”
“I’m so sorry, Killian,” Emma managed to say, and Regina hadn’t hurt like this in so long, “but she’s not your daughter. You don’t even know her.”
“Emma—” Snow again, but Emma held up her hand.
“I think this is all my fault,” she continued, her cheeks flaming red. “All I could think about when I was pregnant with Hope was—” she stopped, stealing a tiny glance at Regina, “that I couldn’t believe I would be raising a kid with someone who wasn’t Regina.”
“Oh, Emma.”
Regina wished she wasn’t reformed and could hit Snow without it traumatizing the children – why did she always need to make everything about her? This was Emma saying something so honest and unbelievable, something she never thought she’d hear her say, and that insipid, meddlesome woman had to put herself in the middle of it.
Hook looked stumped. Obviously, this hadn’t been the outcome he’d expected.
“We could – we could figure out some shared custody arrangement, if that’s what you want,” Emma continued, voice a little stronger, “but… Killian. I’m sorry. I don’t think we can ever work again.”
Regina’s heart swelled, her mind reeling. The pirate glowered at her, then clasped Emma’s arm tighter. “You’re confused, love. You were cursed.” He tapped the ring on her finger, and she backed away on instinct. “This isn’t real. You’re not even… like that.”
“Uh, Killian,” Henry offered, rubbing the back of his head. “Curses are powerful, but I doubt they can make a person gay.”
Emma blushed, and Regina wondered if she’d realized the same thing she had. Henry had seen them together, teasing them for being sappy lesbians who couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and oh god, Jane had made that sex joke, in front of their son, smacking her behind just to annoy him. She thought of mornings, all tangled limbs and lazy kisses, stolen afternoons, Jane dragging her into the supply closet and pinning her against the wall, and those nights, drunk and desperate and passionate, Jane’s mouth hungrily claiming every single part of her. Perhaps Henry had a point. No spell could ever change someone’s sexual orientation.
“Emma,” the pirate said, scowling at their son, “is not like that. Trust me, I know.”
Snow tried to offer everyone a calming smile, unsuccessfully. “Let’s all take a deep breath – I’m sure this is all one big misunderstanding. Curses can be confusing, right, David?” Charming nodded, grimacing.
“Mom,” Emma said, and she sounded tired, like she hadn’t slept in months, “I’m sorry. I’m not confused. I thought I just had to get used to it again, but… I can’t. I just can’t.” She pulled her daughter close, sniffing her hair and placing a long kiss on the top of her head. “And I know it doesn’t fit your fairytale stuff or whatever,” she added quietly, “but I’ve always been bi. I just never said it because it seems like a villain thing in the Enchanted Forest. No offense, Regina.”
Regina offered her a smile, much wider than she’d intended, her pulse racing. “None taken.”
Hook was waving his hook again, baring his teeth. “You’re going to regret this, Swan. I—”
He yelped, vanishing in a swirl of purple cloud. Regina couldn’t contain the satisfied smirk as she lowered her hand – she loved doing that, especially to the pirate. “Not to worry,” she drawled, “just saved him the walk to the docks.” And perhaps had sent him swimming, only nobody needed to know that.
“Regina,” Emma said.
“No, Emma,” she said softly, with a little smile. She felt oddly relieved, a weight of years and years lifted from her shoulders. “You don’t need to say anything. You’re not tied to me in any way. I only hope you’ll let me continue seeing Hope.” It was the right thing to do. Emma had said she’d always be Hope’s mom, but she hadn’t had all the facts then.
There was a chuckle, and it belonged to Henry. He was shaking his head, exchanging a knowing look with Ella. “Can you still blame me for my obliviousness?” he asked, and Ella laughed.
To her astonishment, Emma grinned too. “It’s not that, kid,” she said, eyes trained on Regina, full of the love she used to get when they were Roni and Jane, “it’s just that she’s so stubborn she doesn’t think she deserves anything.”
“Excuse me?” she said, though her throat was dry and her pulse was racing, because if she didn’t know any better, this meant – no, it couldn’t.
Emma smiled at her, just as shy as the first time they met. “Gina,” she said, “I kind of loved being married to you.”
“Oh.”
Emma stepped closer, tentatively taking her hand, thumbing the wedding ring she’d put there years ago, when she’d promised her to always love her and take care of her. “I kind of meant that,” she said, like she knew what Regina had been thinking of. “Still do. If that’s okay.” Because Henry was almost right; they were emotionally damaged, both of them, and it was never easy to be honest about feelings, not even during the curse.
Regina looked at their daughter, giving her a smile, pushing her blonde hair from her eyes. Theirs. Hope was theirs. Henry was theirs. Perhaps they’d been a solid unit long before this curse. Snow was gaping at her former arch-nemesis, her cheeks as white as her name, and David hadn’t blinked in ages.
There was only one thing for Regina to do. Breathing in deeply, she closed the distance between her and her wife, fingers tracing her jaw as she leaned in, and finally, finally kissed Emma Swan.
Somehow, she was not surprised when the circle of colors burst from where their lips met, the force of it knocking everyone but Hope over, who had wrapped her arms around her leg. Her heart soared. When they pulled away, Emma opened one eye, grinning cheekily. “Huh,” she said, “guess I’m not gonna be able to sneak kisses from your mom without anyone noticing, am I, kid?”
Hope giggled. Henry pretended to be shocked.
“Regina!” Snow called out.
Emma linked their hands together. “Yes?” Regina said, ready to defend herself.
“I can’t believe I wasn’t there for your wedding!”
They both laughed, knowing full well what the other was thinking. Thank god they’d gone through that without Snow forcing them into poofy wedding dresses made out of artificial bird feathers or something atrocious like that. “That’s my wedding you missed as well, mom,” Emma said.
“Wait, wait,” David said, finally having found his voice again. “You married my daughter?”
“Glad you finally caught up, Charming.” Regina rolled her eyes, tempted to kiss Emma again, but unsure what the rules were in this new reality. It’d always been just the three of them, no onlookers, and she wasn’t used to having to hold back – Roni had been better at letting go than she ever had been. “It seemed like the best revenge, ultimately.” She licked her lips, only briefly, eyes traveling down her wife’s body, already making up plans to get her alone soon, to repeat all the things they’d done as Roni and Jane but as themselves, and felt a rush when Emma’s breath quickened, her grip on her tightening unintentionally.
Snow gaped again, and David choked. It was an extremely satisfying sight.
“Alright, people,” Emma said, “back to the living room with you all. Regina and I are more than capable of doing a few dishes.” She ushered them all out, and even their daughter followed, skipping happily while holding her older brother’s hand. Regina faced the sink again, picking up a mug like nothing had happened, unable to keep herself from staring at her ring.
Emma was hers.
After all that time.
“You’re allowed to do it, dear,” she spoke up, knowing full well what her wife was contemplating. She hadn’t said it, or two arms wrapped themselves around her from behind, and Regina was home and safe, Emma leaving a trail of kisses on her jaw, in her neck.
“I kind of really love you,” Emma whispered, tensing, like she wasn’t sure if she could say things like that. In truth, she could – it was the same as when they were Roni and Jane, and yet so much more, after all they’d gone through. It was just like them to need a curse to act upon their feelings for each other.
A tear escaped Regina’s eyes, and she turned around in the embrace, cupping her wife’s face with trembling hands. “I love you too, you idiot.”
Her face lit up, like she hadn’t expected her to say it back, and Regina had to kiss her, sliding her hands through short blonde hair, capturing her mouth in just that way that made her moan – then pulled back before she forgot herself and ripped off those tight skinny jeans right here in the kitchen. “Gina,” Emma whined, tugging at her waist, “please. Just for once finish up the dishes with magic.”
She sighed, flicking her wrist, and decided that this was even better than the curse, even if she’d never admit she loved hearing Emma call her Gina – it was them, the real thing, and they were reunited with their family. They took advantage of being alone for the time being, no more words needed, just kisses and touches and perhaps a joke about checking if the tattoos had vanished, and Regina counted herself lucky, that even the most deplorable of mornings tended to be the start of an incredible day like this one.