Chapter Text
Emma gasped as the air was knocked out of her lungs. Her back hit the ground and she blinked. Above her, the sky was a clear blue.
“Emma!” Snow's voice reached her from far away, and suddenly her mother was leaning over her, brushing her hair out of her face.
Emma sat up. Snow's panicked face swam in front of her face. Leaning forward, she pulled her mother into her arms.
“Shit,” Emma said, “I'm back. I'm back.”
“You were only gone for a minute,” Regina's voice reached her, and Emma turned.
The other woman stood above them, looking down at her.
And it was her Regina. Henry's mother. Emma's best friend. A sigh escaped her lips. She was glad to be back. Yet, the thought of the younger Regina, waking alone in her bed, tore at her heart.
Emma got up, brushing dirt off her dress, and pulled Regina into a hug.
The other woman was taken aback, stiffening in her arms. They'd never been the touchy feely types, Emma and Regina. But, at the moment, Emma couldn't care less. She buried her face in Regina's hair, taking in her familiar scent. Unchanged.
Regina's arms wrapped around her.
“Are you alright?” she asked softly, against Emma's hair, “what happened?”
Pulling away, Regina looked her up and down.
“And what are you wearing?” she scoffed, and Snow echoed her from behind Emma.
“It looks like the dresses our maids used to wear,” Snow pointed out.
Emma bit her lip, “you don't remember?” she met Regina's eyes, and they narrowed in confusion.
“Remember what?”
Emma's heart sunk in her chest. Rumplestiltskin’s words echoed in her mind.
You were always supposed to be here, after all.
Emma had taken them to mean that Regina would remember what had passed between them, but now she stared into blank brown eyes.
“Emma?” her mother asked, making her way around her, “what happened? How long were you gone? Where did you go?”
Shaking her head, Emma pulled away from them. What was she supposed to do now? Tell Regina? Tell her she'd abandoned the young, vulnerable Queen to her destiny?
Regina would understand. Emma had had to, the future had to play out the way it was meant to.
Still, Emma's stomach turned at the thought of explaining what had passed between them. For her, it had been a moment, an hour. For Regina, it had been fifty years.
Fifty years in which the Queen had gone from a fragile young girl to the most feared woman in the history of the Enchanted Forest.
For Regina, a lot had changed.
Emma walked away.
She ignored the two women calling after her, and made her way back to where she'd parked her car.
The forest loomed around her, dark and impenetrable, despite the clear sky above. Emma's dress, which she'd all but forgotten she was wearing, felt heavy and uncomfortable. It dragged along the muddy ground, gathering dirt.
Soon enough, she was leaning against her bug.
Unfortunately, she’d lost her keys along with her clothes.
As she broke into her own car, she wondered if leaving things in the past had had an effect on the present.
You were always supposed to be here, after all.
Emma shook her head and plopped herself into the driver's seat. Glancing into the forest she considered waiting for them, but Regina had magic, and Emma needed sleep. And a shower. And food.
She started the car, shifting into first gear and driving away. A nagging feeling asked her if she was running, but she ignored it, pushing it aside for a better moment.
Her home looked exactly like she'd left it three days earlier. She'd only been gone a moment, according to Regina, and Emma was having a hard time wrapping her mind around that.
Sighing, she stripped and headed into the shower.
After a good night's sleep, Emma would decide what to do.
When she woke, it was morning again, and Emma had slept almost sixteen hours.
Groaning, she turned over in her bed, almost expecting to see dark hair sticking out from under the covers. Of course, there was no one else there.
Her phone, however, had blown up. Snow and David had tried to call her a combined thirty times, Regina ten, and her son another five. There were messages too, going from mild concern to full out panic.
She called her son first.
Then her mother.
Regina's messages, she ignored.
Emma had managed, between reassuring her son and her parents that she was alive, to get showered and dressed, and was downing her coffee on her way out the door when the doorbell rang.
She stopped with her jacket halfway on.
Who could it be?
Snow and David were at work, at school and the station respectively. Henry was at school.
Killian?
Emma bit her lip, she had very little interest in talking to her ex boyfriend, now friend .
Of course it could also be…but no. It couldn't be.
Please don't let it be — Emma stopped mid-thought as she opened the door to the very woman she didn't want to face.
Regina arched an eyebrow and took in her slightly disheveled appearance.
“You didn't answer my calls,” she said, matter of factly.
“Right,” Emma said, “I was sleeping.”
“You're awake now,” Regina pointed out.
Emma sighed, looking away. She couldn't have a normal conversation with her friend now. She couldn't. Not when she knew…what did she know? That they'd spent the night together. That's she'd held a younger version of her in her arms and felt her fall asleep there, their breathing syncing. That she'd seen her fall apart, in her most vulnerable moments.
That, despite that or perhaps because of it, Emma was in love with her.
“I was worried,” Regina added, when Emma still hadn't answered.
Biting her lip, Emma pushed past her, pulling the door closed behind her.
“I'm sorry, Regina,” she said, walking towards her car, key in hand, “I'm kind of late to work,” she checked her wrist watch for emphasis. She wasn't actually late.
“Since when do you care?” Regina's voice was sharp, as she lengthened her strides to keep up with Emma's.
Letting out a short, humorless laugh, Emma climbed into her car, “I do work, you know?” she looked up, into dark eyes that stared down at her in confusion and…pain? No, Emma was imagining it. She licked her lips.
“We’ll talk later, okay?”
Emma didn't wait for an answer, she pulled the car door shut behind her and drove off.
Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, the familiar sight of Storybrooke waking up surrounded her. But Emma wasn't focused on where she was going.
Regina didn't remember. Regina didn't know what had happened between them.
Pain bloomed in Emma's chest. Everything had seemed so simple back in the castle. Regina had looked at her with her big brown eyes. Trusting eyes. And Emma had loved her. The young, naive Queen whose pain was unimaginable.
Now…now they were friends. Co-parents. And what if Regina never remembered? And what if she did, and didn't reciprocate her feelings anymore?
Emma had been driving in a haze, and only realized she'd been going in the wrong direction when she pulled up to Gold’s. She stared at the lettering above the pawnshop for a long moment. She sighed.
Getting out of the car, Emma pushed her hair back and headed in. Perhaps he'd have the answers to her questions.
The bell dinged above her head as she entered, Mr. Gold at his usual place behind the counter. He looked up as she entered.
“Miss. Swan,” he said, “what can I do for you? I heard you took an impromptu trip to the past yesterday. Did you have fun?”
Emma snorted and neared, placing her hands on the glass counter and meeting his eyes.
“You remember,” she said.
His gaze bore into hers, and Emma had the feeling she was being seized up. Then he shook his head,
“Unfortunately, I do not,” he said.
Emma clenched her jaw, she searched his face for signs of deceit, but found none. She pushed away from the glass counter and hung her head back.
“So, what did it mean?”
“What did what mean?” his eyebrows rose in question. He was curious.
“When you sent me back, back here, just before I went through the portal you said; You were always supposed to be here, after all.” she relayed the words he'd said hours earlier, “now, tell me what that means.”
Gold looked around his shop, thinking.
“I'm not sure,” he said at last, “I don't remember saying those words.”
“Come on, Gold!” Emma was coming off desperate, but she didn't care. She needed Regina to remember, damn it!
“Why is it so important to you?” he leaned towards her, eyes narrowed, “you're back, you don't seem to have done any permanent damage, why not move on, Miss. Swan?”
Emma looked away.
“Tell you what,” Gold said, walking around the counter and going to her, “I may have an inkling as to what those words mean. I'll tell you my theory, if you tell me why you care.”
Emma rolled her eyes. Why was it always a deal with him? Everything to be bought and sold. Still, any insight could help. Plus, her curiosity was killing her.
“Fine,” she said, “but you first.”
He inclined his head, “very well,” he agreed, “I have been working on a theory that time is…circular,” he made a sphere with his hands.
“Circular?” Emma repeated.
He hummed, “whatever you did in the past, you were meant to be there and do that, so, you cannot upset the balance of the present by changing the past. Whatever you do, you would've done.”
“But then why doesn't she remember?” Emma growled the words before she could think them through.
Gold raised an eyebrow.
“She?”
Emma swallowed, “Regina. I met her, back then, but she doesn't remember. And neither do you!”
He nodded and scratched his chin, “well, I'm not sure. Really, as I said, it's just a theory. It's possible that time adjusts itself. History heals itself. And to do that, you had to be…forgotten.”
So, Regina had forgotten them. Forgotten the precious few moments when they'd been honest, when their walls had been down and they'd found each other in one another's arms.
“But it is possible that, with the right push, these memories can be brought back.”
Emma's head snapped up. Hope flooded her chest. Maybe she didn't have to shove her feelings back down and pretend they never existed. Maybe Regina would remember.
“Push? What kind of push?”
He raised his shoulders, “I don't know,” he studied her face, “I'm sorry.”
Emma shook her head, turning away.
“It's alright, you've…been a big help,” her eyebrows drew together and stopped halfway to the door.
“I feel in love with her, back there. That's why I need her to remember.”
He nodded, seemingly unsurprised.
“You fell in love, or you admitted what you'd been feeling since the day you met?”
Once again, his words haunted her.
She exited the shop and headed to the station.
Three coffees later and Emma still didn't know what to do. She checked her phone for the millionth time. Regina hadn't texted.
Guilt over the way she'd treated the other woman settled deep in her chest. Leaning back against the office chair, she tapped her pen to the arm. On the wall, the clock ticked away the seconds.
Emma picked up her phone again and checked her messages. Nothing.
Biting her lip and swallowing her pride she typed on the little chat box.
“Can we talk? Tonight?”
She only hesitated a moment, then pressed the green arrow.
Screwing her eyes shut, she placed the phone face down on her desk and pulled a sheet over to herself. The words on the page swam in her vision, and Emma breathed out to calm herself.
What was the worst that could happen, after all?
Her mind supplied unwanted details.
Regina could be angry at her. Emma had the image of her anger clearly mapped out in her mind, she'd been angry pretty often, especially in the beginning. And knowing that Emma had seen her at her most vulnerable…she'd kill her.
Emma placed her head in her hands and stopped pretending to work.
Less dramatically, but more devastatingly, Regina could simply not return her feelings anymore. Fifty years had passed.
The phone buzzed and Emma picked it up at lightning speed.
“Come over after dinner. Bring wine.”
Regina's message was cold and to the point, but Emma's heart soared.
The rest of the day passed in about a century, as Emma tried very hard to concentrate on working, and failed miserably.
That evening, after dinner, Emma pulled up to the mansion.
Her legs felt like jelly under her, but somehow she made it to the back door and rang the bell. A minute later, Regina was standing in the entrance, looking as breathtaking as usual. Emma cleared her throat and smiled, holding up the bottle of wine she'd bought on the way.
Inclining her head, Regina moved aside to let her pass. As they walked to the living room, Emma took in her pencil skirt, black tights under it, and the red cashmere sweater she wore on top. So very different to what she'd work in the enchanted forest, and yet there was something strikingly similar about it. In the way the clothes hugged her form, and the way she wore them, like a suit of armor.
Regina poured two glasses and handed Emma one, raising hers in toast. She still hadn't spoken.
“Listen,” Emma started, “I'm really sorry about this morning–”
“There's no need to apologize,” Regina said, “you're under no obligation to let me know if you're dead or alive.”
Emma swallowed at her tone, the coldness in it cut her to her core. If only she could remember! If only she could make her remember.
“No. Right,” Emma agreed awkwardly.
She needed to tell her. There was no getting around it. Even if it meant getting her heart broken, Emma had to tell her what had passed between them.
Slowly, she made her way to the white leather sofa and sank down on it. There was a fireplace here, but the hearth was empty, and had probably never been lit. For decoration only.
“I need to tell you something,” Emma said.
Regina pursed her red lips and went to sit by her, smoothing down her skirt as she did. Each of her movements was controlled, practiced. Unlike her younger self, this Regina held every emotion closely guarded to her chest.
Emma swallowed and closed her eyes.
“Is this about your time travelling adventure?” Regina asked, crossing her legs elegantly and leaning back. The picture of composed calm. Yet, Emma could see the confusion and curiosity swimming in her eyes.
“It is,” she said, slowly, where to start?
“I don't know how it happened but…” she took a breath, “well, I ended up in your time.”
Regina's eyes widened, and her fingertips turned white around the stem of the wineglass. Panic flitted through her eyes.
“My time?” her voice was bordering on shrill.
Emma raised a placatory hand, “not that time. It was your wedding day.”
This didn't have the intended effect.
Regina was no longer pretending to be relaxed, she put the wine glass down on the coffee table, her hands visibly shaking as she did.
“Emma–”
“Regina,” Emma leaned forward and took her hand. It was warm and soft in hers, and she found herself drawing soothing circles into her hand. “I'm so sorry.”
Regina met her gaze, “sorry? Why are you sorry?”
It was Emma's turn to look away, “you were so unhappy. You were so young and vulnerable and–” she stopped herself before the word could leave her lips. So beautiful. Like a fragile flower, to be protected and nurtured.
Regina shook her head, “I…” she laughed a little, “I don't know what to say. Did you speak to me? I don't…I don't remember anything.”
Emma swallowed, now was the moment of truth. She and Regina had done much much more than just talk.
“I did,” she murmured, “we did.” She pressed her lips together and tightened her hold on Regina's hand. Their knees were so close they were almost touching. Regina's in black stockings, and Emma in blue jeans. “Gold says that history fixes itself, that you forgot about me because you had to.” Licking her lips she flicked her eyes up, Regina was staring at her with an intensity she'd long since stopped turning on her. And Emma's heart reacted to that look.
This was no longer a little fantasy moment, a split second in time that would quickly be forgotten. This was her life and Regina's life and Henry's life.
“What happened?” Regina asked. At Emma's silence she continued, “you wouldn't be acting so…well, frankly, weird, if something hadn't happened.”
Emma twisted her lips, “no.”
Regina took a breath, “Emma did I do something to you?” blinking she leaned closer, “if I did, please, I…please forgive me. I was lost and afraid and–”
“Regina, you didn't do anything to me!” Emma interjected before she could spiral, before she could convince herself she'd done something awful. The young, frail Queen.
“Okay,” Regina whispered, “because you're acting strange and you pulled away from me this morning and I thought we were friends–”
“Regina!”
“Right. I'll let you go on.”
Emma nodded, “thanks.” Still, she found it hard to begin. “When I fell through I… I landed in this castle and there was this woman,” Emma hesitated and Regina arched an eyebrow. “Mrs.Smith.”
Regina leaned back, grief flashing over her features.
Emma pressed on, “she thought I was a maid and…and I was sent to your chambers. Your future chambers.”
Regina stared at her.
“I prepared you for the wedding night.”
Getting up, Regina let out a breath.
“You?” she asked, “but I…” her eyebrows furrowed.
“Anyway, then Snow accused your maid,” she couldn't say her name, not again, not so soon after her death, “of stealing, and she got whipped and…”
Fury washed over Regina's features as she sat back down next to Emma.
“Yes,” she said, “your mother–”
“I know,” Emma placated, “I know, but she was a kid.”
“A kid who caused two deaths because of her tattling.”
Reaching up, Emma brushed her finger over the small scar on her upper lip.
Regina's lips fell open, just a little, and her eyes met Emma's. They were so close Emma could almost hear her heartbeat, could see her breathing quicken at her touch.
“You…” Regina's eyes narrowed, “we kissed.”
Emma's breath caught in her throat.
“We did,” she whispered.
Regina took her hand, Emma's finger still on her scar, and leaned forward. Her eyes searched Emma's for a long moment, then she smiled. A soft, full lipped smile that made Emma's heart stutter in her chest.
“You remember,” Emma murmured.
“You were talking about me,” Regina said, in wonder, “you were talking about me when you…when you told me about Henry's mother, how much you cared about her, how much you,” she swallowed, her eyes still on Emma, “admired her?”
Emma laughed, “yeah, Regina, I…” the words stuck in her throat, but her smile surely gave her away. Her heart was light in her chest, like it had sprouted wings and began to fly.
Regina didn't seem to notice her momentary lapse, her eyes were lost somewhere far away. Her lips parted and she took in a sharp breath, then she came back to the present, her gaze fixing on Emma. Biting down on her lower lip, she smiled. “I've missed you,” She said , and then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to Emma's.
Emma gasped, her fingers sliding into Regina's hair and pulling her close. The kiss was unexpected, and had her heart beating out of her chest. Lips moved slowly, softly, sensually against hers, and Emma wanted to deepen the kiss, to pull Regina onto her and feel her skin under her fingertips. She didn't let instinct take over, however, and pressed her hand against Regina's shoulder, pushing her away.
Dark eyes studied her, from a breath away.
Emma swallowed, “I think…I think we need to talk.”
Regina hummed in agreement. She swallowed and pulled back, looking away. A soft blush crept onto her neck.
“Regina…what do you remember?”
“You saved my life,” she said, “if it hadn't been for you…I would've died that night.”
“You tried to kill yourself,” Emma murmured.
Regina licked her lip, a movement that had Emma's gaze glueing to her, and sent her mind spinning again. Why couldn't she concentrate around this woman?
“I did,” she said.
She leaned forward again, pressing her lips gently to Emma's.
Emma pulled away.
“Regina, if you need time…space–”
“Emma!” Regina laughed, “I'm trying to kiss you. Do you…did you change your mind–”
“No!” Emma cupped her face, pulling her close, forcing Regina to lean over her until she was practically in her lap. “I…Regina you were right, back then, you were just a kid but you were right. I do love you.” The words left her lips like a waterfall, unstoppable. Fear sloshed like acid in Emma's stomach.
Regina laughed again, and pressed her fingertips to Emma's cheeks, “I love you, too, dummy. I may not have remembered you, but I knew. And I loved you.”
Closing her eyes, Emma savored that moment. Those words that sung in her heart.
“I was angry,” Regina murmured, she was still a breath away, “so angry at you, for leaving me. For abandoning me. But I understand now. I know you couldn't stay.”
Emma's eyes flickered open and she met pools of deep brown. Her eyes hadn't changed. The soft amber swimming in them, the deep browns and blacks. The sharpness and warmth. They were the same eyes.
“I'm sorry,” Emma murmured, now she reached forward again, stroking her cheek, and then her scar. It had been red and inflamed, fresh, tasting like blood. Now it was long healed, but still there, a reminder of Regina's pain.
Sighing softly, Regina let her forehead lean against Emma's. Like this, their breaths synced, meeting in the space between them.
Something nagged at Emma's unconsciousness.
“What do you mean: I may not have remembered you but I loved you?”
Regina pulled away, her eyes widening. Biting her lower lip, she took her hands from Emma's and pressed them to her chest.
“I meant,” she spoke slowly, as if picking the words out of a dictionary, “I meant that I didn't need to remember what happened to love you.”
Emma blinked, “what?”
“Emma…you are so very slow,” Regina laughed at her and cupped her jaw, stroking her lower lip with her thumb. Her gaze fell to Emma's lips, then back up to her eyes. There was a spark of mischief there that had Emma's stomach flipping.
Emma swallowed again, her head felt light, dizzy.
“I'm not slow,” she argued, “you're slow.”
Regina laughed again, and when she kissed her her tongue snuck into Emma's mouth, tasting her. Deepening the kiss, Emma felt desire pool low in her stomach. She pushed it away, but slid her fingers over Regina's thighs, and onto her waist.
“Emma,” Regina pulled away, and she'd grown serious again. Feeling panic rise, Emma took her hands away.
Perhaps she'd been too forward?
Regina took no notice of her dread.
“I'm not the same person I was then,” she licked her lips, “for you it was yesterday, but for me–”
“It's been a long time.”
“It has,” Regina nodded, “and a lot has happened. I have done a lot. I have committed–”
“Regina,” Emma stopped her, two fingers on her lips, “I don't care.”
“If you knew–”
“Regina, I didn't fall in love with you because you were young and naive–”
“I wasn't naive,” Regina arched a brow and Emma laughed.
“Fine, not naive. Beautiful then.”
Emma stopped, realizing what she'd said. Maybe she hadn't heard.
Regina smirked, “beautiful?”
“Shut up,” Emma murmured, and kissed her again. This time, the kiss deepend quickly, and soon, Regina was pushed against the sofa, and Emma was lying half on top of her.
Quickly, the kiss was turning hot and heavy. Regina's lips were soft, but her touch was rough on Emma’s body.
As Regina's hands dragged up her body, seeking skin, Emma gasped against her lips. She was fast forgetting what they'd been talking about. But after a moment, Regina pushed her gently away. Though she stayed pressed up against her.
“You were saying something?” Regina murmured, and Emma was gratified to hear how out of breath she was.
“If time is circular,” Emma bit her lip as she thought it through, “then that means that the first time we met, you already knew me. And I knew you. The very first time we met, I already loved you.”
Regina stared at her, dark eyes impenetrable. Then, she cupped her cheek and pulled her close.
“And I loved you,” she glanced away, “despite trying to kill you.”
Regina let her head fall back all the way on the sofa, she was lying on it, Emma on top of her. And she laughed. And laughed. Until she was hiccuping.
Emma giggled along with her, her fingers tracing the soft wool of her sweater, pushing it ever so slightly upwards.
“What's funny?” Emma asked, once Regina had calmed down a little.
Shaking her head, Regina looked at her. Wonder filled her eyes, like she was seeing Emma for the first time.
“This morning I thought…well, I thought you hated me. I thought you'd met another version of me and we –our friendship that is– were over. I thought you'd never forgive me. And, God, Emma, it hurt so much.” Her eyes widened and she pressed her hand to her mouth, as if unable to believe she'd actually said those words.
Emma reached up and took her hand away, she wanted to see her whole face.
“I thought you'd forgotten about me. I thought you'd push me away if you knew…”
“If I knew what?” Regina held herself up on her arms, “if I knew how you'd seen me? My weaknesses. My pain,” she swallowed hard, “I won't say I'm not embarrassed.”
“Don't be,” Emma murmured, “I like your scars.”
Automatically, Regina touched her upper lip.
“I could've healed it, you know,” she said, “afterwards. But I didn't want to, it was a reminder of what Snow had done, what she was capable of. Why I hated her,” she met Emma's eyes, “can you understand that?”
“I can,” Emma said, “but now, what does it mean, now?”
Regina looked away.
Emma smiled a little to herself, “it's a testament to everything you've survived, Regina.”
“Not everyone survived.”
“No,” Emma agreed, remembering the young Regina's tears. Her fear of seeing all those she loved die around her. Her fear of being the cause of their deaths. And she had been.
There were no words. Nothing she could say would make it better, or make Regina's pain go away. So, Emma did the only thing she could think of, and pressed her lips to her stomach, right under her. The cashmere wool was soft under her lips, and Emma found herself kissing her over and over again.
Regia sighed, and her back arched under Emma, giving her the opportunity to slide her hands under her and push the soft material up. She met soft skin, and proceeded to continue kissing it, softly, gently, slowly. But making her way inexorably downwards. When she met the top of Regina's pencil skirt she looked up. Regina hooked her thumbs under the waistband and shimmied out of it. Emma swallowed and helped her, pushing down the fabric over her silky black tights.
Bracing herself on Regina's legs, Emma pressed her lips over the fabric, onto her sex. Regina gasped and her hips bucked up, making Emma laugh and do it again.
Regina ran her fingers through Emma's hair, her fingernails raking her skin, sending shivers down Emma's spine. As her hands cupped her cheeks, she gently pushed Emma down, indicating what she wanted.
Emma grinned, “so, um, I guess this is a good time to ask, you want to be more than friends, right?”
Regina growled.
Still laughing, Emma pushed her tights down to mid thigh, revealing the lace panties beneath. Biting her lip at the sweet scent of her, Emma ran her fingers over the soft fabric. It was already wet and a groan slipped past her lips.
She wanted her so badly. Her lower belly hurt with need, and her breathing was quickly becoming labored.
Regina seemed to feel the same, her legs opened a fraction wider and Emma slid her finger under the last slip of fabric dividing them. She almost groaned again, she was slick already, so wet. And for her. For Emma.
To think she'd been worried.
Her fingers slipped into her shallowly, just the tips, and ran them over her with featherlight touch.
“Emma,” Regina whined softly, “what are you waiting for? A written invitation?” her hips lifted off the sofa and her fingers twisted in Emma's hair.
Exhaling, Emma lifted her head, she wants nothing better than to dive in and feel Regina on her tongue and on her fingers, feel her skin to skin, make her pant and gasp and cry for her. But this was the woman she loved, and she wanted to do things right.
“Regina,” she murmured, “are you sure about this? We can take things easy, I mean–”
“Emma,” Regina held herself up and pulled Emma up to her, kissing her again, “I am not that girl anymore,” she smiled and stroked her cheek, “you are…” she exhaled, “Emma.”
Smiling, Emma nodded, “yeah, me Emma, you Regina,” she pointed at her as she said it.
Regina rolled her eyes and laughed, “nevermind. You're ridiculous.”
Emma giggled and nuzzled her nose to Regina cheek, “but I'm serious, Regina,” she murmured, “we don't have to rush, we have–”
“The rest of our lives?”
There was a promise in her voice, and a question. Emma twirled a dark lock of hair in her fingers, and kissed her ear.
“Yeah.”
“Well, Miss.Swan,” Regina murmured, “as much as I'm looking forward to that, right now I'd like you to…”
Emma hummed in question, “what? What do you want me to do to you?”
Regina swallowed and turned, so that her eyes met Emma's “I'd like you to fuck me, Emma, before I lose my mind.”
Emma obliged without question, Regina was practically sitting in her lap, and she easily slid her hand between them, finding her core again.
Fingers slipped into wet heat, and Regina was moaning, her head falling back against Emma's shoulder, her dark hair a mess around her head. Emma thrust into her, lips on her shoulder, on her neck, up into her hair and against her ear.
As Regina's hands explored her body, Emma enjoyed watching her lose control. This Regina had no qualms grinding against her hand, and gasping against her skin.
“Emma,” she whined her name, “fuck, Emma, I'm so close.”
Her muscles clenched erratically against Emma's hand, and with one movement, Regina was coming undone against her. Their bodies so close, Emma felt her muscles freeze, her breathing becoming uncoordinated as she went over the edge.
A moment later, Regina's lips were on hers, her soft panted breaths on Emma's skin.
“I love you,” she murmured, “I love you.”
Emma's arms wrapped around her, pulling her down on top of her. Their legs entwined on the sofa, and Emma felt pleasure shoot into her as Regina's thigh pressed up against her core. Watching her come had turned her on more than she thought possible, and the gentle friction of Regina's leg on her was making her see stars.
Emma moaned louder than she'd meant when Regina's hand slid past the waistband of her jeans. Her fingers found the spot in seconds, and Emma was gasping, her thoughts in disarray, as pleasure shot through her at each touch.
“Oh, fuck,” Emma murmured, trying to put together anything more felt futile, but she tried. “You've come a long way,” gasp , “since,” oh, fuck, “that girl,” Regina! “Who hadn't even,” oh, oh, oh, God, “kissed a girl,” Emma got the words out as pleasure washed over her, her back arching and her fingers pulling at Regina's hair.
Regina laughed, and she might have told her to shut up, but Emma couldn't be sure.
As her orgasm washed over her, she pulled the other woman down, kissing her deeply.
“I love you, too,” she murmured.