Acronyms

SwanQueen one-shot.

Rated X. NSFW.

* * * * *

Regina Mills hated not knowing things. She had been a Queen. She was the Mayor of a town made entirely to her own design; for her first twenty-eight years there, she had been able to command and control everything within it; even now, she was still more in charge than anyone else. Not knowing things made her itch, an actual physical discomfort which clawed at her skin.

But now she had a teenage son, who had gone from an intelligent and inquisitive boy to a grunting, sleeping and eating stranger who, when he spoke at all, did so in a language which she often found incomprehensible. Yet, she wanted to understand, craved the knowledge which would break his secret code of teen-speak.

In such matters, there was an obvious person to whom she could turn, but it was the last person she wanted to approach for help: Henry’s other mother, Sheriff Emma Swan. Regina hated having to ask Emma for any help because it disrupted the delicate balance of power between them, in which Regina was the smart and sophisticated one, and Emma was—well, Emma was the other one. On a good day, Emma was her friend. On a normal day, Emma was her friend who drove her to distraction with her attitude and her mannerisms and her Emma-ness.

So, instead, she asked the only other friend whom she hoped might be able to help her, Kathryn Nolan. That, however, got her nowhere.

“Nope. I’m not getting into this with you, Regina. Ask Emma,” Kathryn said. They were in Granny’s Diner, having a coffee just ahead of the lunch-hour rush.

“But I’m asking you.” She fixed her friend with her hardest stare.

“Nice try, Madam Mayor. I’m so not going there. Ask your—” Kathryn smirked as she cut herself off. “Ask Emma.”

Regina’s eyes narrowed and she folded her arms across her chest. “What were you about to say?”

Kathryn rolled her eyes. “Girlfriend. I was going to say you should ask your girlfriend.”

Regina’s anger sparked immediately. “I’ll have you know that Emma is no such thing. We have a friendship appropriate to our role as parents and professional colleagues—nothing more than that.”

“Sure you do.”

As if to prove Kathryn’s point, Ruby Lucas appeared and refilled their coffees. “Anything to eat for you ladies, or are you waiting for Emma to join you?”

Regina sighed. Almost every day she had to correct someone who made the assumption that she and Emma were together in some way. It was getting preposterous.

“Just the coffee,” Regina said. “And we’re not waiting for Emma.”

Ruby looked confused. “But you two have lunch together every Tuesday.”

Kathryn sniggered out loud at that, and Regina gave her another glare.

“We do not,” Regina said.

So, maybe she and Emma happened to frequent the diner every Tuesday lunchtime at roughly the same time and they ended up eating together, but it wasn’t as if they had any set arrangement. It wasn’t a date. Their twice-weekly dinners were not dates, either. She merely wanted to ensure that her son’s other parent ate well occasionally. It was entirely coincidental that the dishes she cooked happened to be Emma’s favourites. And if the shelves next to her television were full of boxsets of TV shows which Emma enjoyed, then that was merely being a considerate hostess, just as dropping off home-baked cakes and pastries at the Sheriff’s station several times a week was a show of respect to a fellow town employee. The occasional spa day together—Regina’s treat—was nothing more than Regina’s wanting to have a companion with whom to share the experience. It had nothing to do with wanting to see Emma in swimwear.

No, there was nothing between them beyond friendship, respect and shared custody. If she were to date anyone, it certainly wouldn’t be Emma Swan.

Once. They’d only had sex once—well, several times, but only on one occasion. And that had been in Neverland. Things had been different there. They had both been on edge, and had needed emotional and physical release, a distraction to ease their worries over their son. It had been a one-off, an aberration, the inevitable conclusion of over a year of fiery tension and overwrought emotions. Clearly, it wasn’t something which would or could ever happen again. They had never talked of it afterwards, as they dressed in silence, or after they had saved Henry and were heading home on the Jolly Roger, or after they had returned to Storybrooke, or after New York and the year apart, or after their other relationships ended, or—no, they never discussed it. Although they had an entire relationship built on teasing, flirting and friendly antagonism, their prior liaison was never discussed.

It wasn’t as if Regina thought about it often. And, even if she did, so what? Sexual fantasies were a normal human function. She had fantasies about other people—men, even. There had been her brief affair with Robin Hood, after all. That had made her stop thinking about Emma for a while and replace her starring role in Regina’s fantasies with the image of someone else. So, maybe some of those fantasies had started off being about Robin and then had morphed into a different blonde, with a different tattoo and an annoying smirk, but there was nothing to read into that beyond the fact that Emma had been her previous sexual partner. Okay, maybe all of her sexual fantasies ended up being about Emma Swan, but that didn’t mean anything, either. Emma was objectively the most attractive person in Storybrooke, excluding herself, of course.

She blinked back to full awareness, noting that Ruby and Kathryn were chatting amiably. And, of course, she realised now that should have asked young Miss Lucas in the first instance. While she was more Emma’s friend than Regina’s, she would surely want to help with something pertaining to Henry.

“Actually, Ruby, while you’re here—”

“If you know what’s good for you,” Kathryn interrupted, “you’ll run away before she completes that question.” Ruby and Kathryn shared a look, and the waitress moved off, not willing to put herself in the line of fire.

Regina scowled. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you know you should be asking Emma, and you’re only avoiding it because you hate admitting that she knows things which you don’t.” Kathryn waved the topic away with a hand gesture. “Anyway, I was going to invite you to dinner with Fred and me this weekend.”

Regina could tell from her friend’s eager grin that there was something more to her invitation. “Just the two of you?”

“Well, I was going to ask Fred to invite Matt, one of the assistant football coaches.”

“Kathryn, don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t try to set me up with someone else again.”

Since the end of her relationship with Robin Hood, Kathryn had tried to set her up with some apparently eligible man every few months. Every incident had been embarrassing beyond words. The men were all perfectly acceptable, but they weren’t what she was looking for in a partner. None of them was challenging or bright or fiery or tenacious or had hazel eyes which sometimes seemed green when they were standing with the sun behind them and almost grey when they were staring out to sea.

“I wouldn’t have to set you up if you’d admit that you’re already with someone, even if you both pretend that’s not what’s happening.”

“Kathryn. Please, just stop.” When had her life become so intolerably full of people who cared about her and wanted her happiness and kept insinuating that she felt more for Emma Swan than simple friendship and a very small—almost infinitesimal, hardly worth even mentioning—bit of lust?

“Would you prefer I set you up with a woman? Is that the problem?” Kathryn grinned at her, knowing full well that she was being irritating. “My new paralegal is very attractive.”

Regina pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I don’t want to be set up with anyone.”

“Because you’re already with Emma. I get it.”

“Stop it.”

“Saturday night. Think about it.” Kathryn leaned across the table and patted her hand. She dropped a five-dollar bill on the counter for her coffee and tip. “Or, better yet, bring Emma to dinner and then we can all drop the pretence.”

“Never happening.”

The blonde winked at her. “Two choices, Regina. Bring Emma with you or I’ll provide a date for you. Either way, I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“Fine. Whatever.” She waved her hand. Arguing was obviously a waste of time, judging by the mocking way her so-called friend was smiling down at her.

They said their goodbyes, leaving Regina alone with only her brooding over the conversation she’d heard between Henry and Nicholas Tillman the previous evening, and irritation at Kathryn’s assertions that she somehow had a relationship with Emma Swan.

She pulled out her phone and sent the Sheriff a text.

What exactly does ‘umf’ mean?

Curt and to the point, as she liked to be. She only had to wait a few minutes before the screen flashed with a reply.

Umf? IDK. Context woman!

She hated that Emma used text-speak. Just because one was typing on a small screen did not obviate the need for clear communication and proper punctuation.

It was something I overheard Nicholas Tillman say, and Henry seemed horrified by it.

Henry’s face had gone a dark red, and he had punched Nicholas hard on the arm. Had Regina not been eavesdropping in the first place, she would have reprimanded him for such rowdy behaviour. She was concerned that it was yet another reference to her evil past. Nicholas’s father, Michael Tillman, was one of those who still held a grudge against her for her curse having separated him from his children, and she worried that Nicholas and Ava might persuade Henry that his mother was still evil. No matter how good their relationship had become, Regina would never lose the nagging fear that her son’s love could be easily lost again.

Nick said it abt u?

Regina sighed. Was that not obvious from her previous text? Had she not, in fact, said exactly that?

Yes. And stop using text speak. Regina could feel her irritation growing. She knew that Emma enjoyed provoking her by being obtuse, but she was really in no mood for cryptic statements. And stop being deliberately vexatious, she added for good measure.

Okay. Then he said UNF and kid has good taste because you are so totes UNF.

Losing patience with Emma’s deliberate avoidance of the question, she called instead. Emma answered within two rings. By the background noise and her breathing, Regina could tell she was out walking.

“’Sup?”

“You are not answering my question.”

Emma chuckled. “But look how perfectly I spelled and punctuated that last text.”

“Would you just answer the question?”

“I already answered you. You are totally UNF.”

Regina scowled because she could all but hear the smirk and the eye roll behind Emma’s answer. So, she waited, knowing that saying nothing would force Emma to fill the silence.

There was a heavy sigh. “You sure you want to know?”

“Would I ask if I didn’t?”

“Why can’t you just Google this stuff, instead of making me explain every internet acronym for you?” Emma sounded exasperated.

“Why would I need Google when I have you?” Not that she had Emma. Not in the way her statement might have implied. Not in any way, in fact. She shook her head, returning to the matter at hand, and not the nonsense Ruby Lucas and Kathryn Nolan had filled her head with.

“Remember when I told you what a MILF was?”

“Yes.” Regina could hardly forget the way Emma’s face had turned as crimson as she tried to explain that Hansel, another of Henry’s friends, thought that she was attractive. The crude term aside, and the fact that her son and his friends were discussing women and sex when she still thought of him as her little boy, Regina had been quite delighted by how embarrassed the conversation had made Emma. She may, indeed, have preened a little when Emma had implied that she agreed with the boy’s assessment.

“Well, UNF is how you would describe a MILF. It’s something you say if you think someone is really attractive.”

“But what does it actually stand for?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s, uh, like, crude, I guess.”

“Oh, for the love of God, would you just tell me?”

“Fine. It stands for the Universal Noise of Fucking.”

“It means WHAT?” Regina looked around to see if anyone was watching, realising that she had shouted, but the diner’s patrons didn’t appear to be paying any attention.

“You heard me. Don’t make me say it again.”

“I wasn’t asking you to repeat yourself.”

“Sounded like it.”

“Well, I wasn’t.” Regina shook her head. Sometimes, Emma was more petulant than Henry. “I understood the words, Emma. I merely do not understand what is meant by those words.”

“It means exactly what you think it means. It means that yet another of our son’s friends thinks you are incredibly hot.”

“So, it’s not a bad thing?”

“No, it is definitely not a bad thing. Hold on, I need to talk to someone for a sec.” Sound became muffled as she heard Emma answer a question from one of Storybrooke’s residents about some minor vandalism. “Actually,” Emma said, “I’ll call you back. Won’t be long.”

As she waited, Regina looked out of the window, and saw that Emma was across the street, her phone still in her left hand as she raised both hands appeasingly towards an older woman who was jabbing an angry finger in Emma’s face. Despite her teasing that being Sheriff of Storybrooke involved little more than wrangling stray animals and napping on city time, Emma’s professionalism was one of the things Regina admired most about her. Emma was conscientious about her work and surprisingly patient with the townspeople who seemed to feel a need to bring every petty irritation to the Saviour’s attention. Despite the frustration she could read in Emma’s body language, her demeanour towards the other woman was placating and respectful.

Regina rested her head on her hand as she watched. Today, Emma was wearing something approaching a uniform, which was most unusual. Tan cargo pants and black military boots were topped with a brown Sheriff’s Department t-shirt. A pair of dark aviator sunglasses and a business-like tight bun completed the look. Emma had mentioned that they were running a joint initiative with the high school that week, assigning road clean-up duties to some of the more rebellious teens, and that had to be the explanation for the formal clothes.

Looking like that, Regina mused, she certainly wouldn’t find being bossed around by Emma Swan to be any kind of punishment. Her imagination was more than capable of providing a series of lurid scenarios in which she was at the mercy of the big, bad Sheriff, possibly in one of Storybrooke’s jail cells. Her lips twitched involuntarily as her mind supplied the phrase ‘banged up’.

Her phone buzzed against the table and she looked towards Emma, whose phone was clasped to her ear, then back down at the table. She gave the other woman a pointed look, but answered immediately.

“Too lazy to walk over and speak to me in person, Sheriff?”

“Working. No time for lunch today.” From across the street, Emma gave her a little shrug of apology. “I’m just heading out to the high school now to pick up a load of unwilling recruits.”

“Shame. I might have been persuaded to treat you to something laden with grease and calories.” She dropped her voice to a deeper and more seductive tone than she usually allowed herself to use around Emma. That uniform was certainly having an effect on her.

“Well, that is definitely a mighty tempting offer.” Emma looked both ways and then crossed the street.

“No doubt your stomach is rebelling at the thought of your depriving it of a burger and fries.”

Emma came to a stop by the diner’s outdoor tables, looking straight in the window at Regina, although the sunglasses covered her eyes. “Nah, the rest of me is rebelling at the thought of not getting to be with you.” She spread her feet apart more comfortably, her free hand tucked into a front pocket. “So, what did Nicholas say about you exactly?”

Regina couldn’t stop herself from taking in Emma’s confident stance, the way her shoulders were thrust back, making the yellow lettering of the word ‘Sheriff’ spread across her breasts. And she knew from the little smirk playing across Emma’s lips that she’d been caught staring.

“I overhead him talking to Henry.”

“In other words, you were eavesdropping.”

“I was doing no such thing! I happened to be passing Henry’s room and the door was open. And they were talking more loudly than they should have been, knowing that I was in the house with them.” She shook her head at Emma’s gall. Eavesdropping, indeed. “Anyway, they were discussing parents, and Nicholas mentioned that it must be hard for Henry to have one mother who was the Sheriff and another who was,” she paused and looked around again, but no-one was seated in her immediate vicinity, “that word.”

“UNF,” Emma said.

“Yes, that.” She could feel the flush on her cheeks and she could see Emma was enjoying her discomfort. “Henry seemed outraged, and he punched Nicholas quite hard on the arm.”

“Well, it’s not a bad thing. It’s a good thing. But I can see why Henry punched him, because you’re his Mom and, trust me, no-one wants to think about their parents and sex.”

Regina couldn’t prevent a small laugh at that statement, knowing that Emma had caught David and Snow in sexual situations on several occasions, and that it always mortified the younger woman beyond words.

“It’s still an inappropriate thing for a boy his age to think of his friend’s mother. He’s only fourteen.”

“Noticing that a hot woman is hot is not limited to adults. And, trust me, at fourteen, hot women are pretty much all you want to think about. When you look like you do, Regina, you’re gonna have to get used to Henry’s friends thinking and saying shit like that. The kid has eyes and, on your worst day, you’re still a fucking wet dreaming walking.” A couple walked past Emma and took a seat at one of the tables outside, no doubt wanting to enjoy the late spring sunshine. Emma glanced at them in irritation, and lowered her voice for her next sentence so that they wouldn’t overhear. “The only thing that’s bad about all of this is that fourteen-year-old boys shouldn’t be the only ones telling you that you’re the living embodiment of sex. Not when you have me.”

Regina tried to breathe evenly because nothing about that statement could be misconstrued as simple teasing. Emma was outright flirting with her.

“It would hardly be appropriate for you to say such things, either.” She winced internally at how breathy and unconvincing she sounded.

“On the contrary, I think I’m the only one who should say things like that.” Emma’s tone was deliberately casual, but Regina could still feel the intensity. “Because UNF is a noise. In your case, I’d have to say it’s that noise you make right before you come hard, the one that’s not really a grunt and not quite a moan, but really, really loud. That’s the universal noise of fucking. And, last I checked, I’m the only one around here who’s ever heard you make that noise. Unless you’re going to pretend that the Boy Scout made you feel like I did.”

Emma’s continuing jealousy over Robin—she invariably referred to him as the Boy Scout, refusing to acknowledge his name—was unexpected but welcome, but that wasn’t what Regina focused on. Her mind flashed on an image of being pressed against a tree, Emma’s fingers working deep inside her, and suddenly she knew exactly the noise Emma meant. It was, indeed, a noise that only Emma Swan had ever heard. Only Emma had ever made her feel so untethered that she could make such noises. Suddenly, she felt like making the actual noise.

“I have no idea what you mean.” She swallowed, noting that Emma was consciously or subconsciously rotating her hips, no doubt replaying the same memories as Regina.

“Oh, I think you do. That noise made me feel like a fucking god.”

“Emma.” She wasn’t sure whether it was a warning or a plea to continue. Emma reached for her sunglasses, pushing them down to rest on the bridge of her nose so that Regina could finally see her eyes.

“Still does when I think about it.” Emma’s voice was low and dark, a rumble in Regina’s ear. “And I think about it a lot. UNF means that you think someone is so fucking hot that you come just by thinking about them. And thinking about you is the only sure-fire way I have of making myself come.” Her lips twitched in a half-smile, her eyes still focused on Regina’s face through the glass of the diner window. “You ever think about it, too? How right it felt, me inside you, taking you like that? How wet and hot and ready you were, like you were just fucking made for me?” She gave a low chuckle. “Or maybe I should have said like you were just made for me to fuck.”

“Emma.” Regina clenched her thighs together. She was impossibly aroused.

“Oh, I think about that, too, you know—the way you moaned my name when you asked me to go deeper, harder. Do you think about it ever? Maybe at night, when you’re in bed and you wanna touch yourself? D’you think about how hard I made you come for me? Do you remember the way you clenched so hard around my fingers that I thought maybe you’d break ’em? But, fuck, it was worth it to feel you come all over my hand.” Emma held her right hand out, looked at it and then back up at Regina, almost daring her to deny it.

As she thought about what to say, she saw Emma’s father, David, approaching from other side of the street, dressed in a similar military style to his daughter. He saw Regina through the window and raised a hand in cheery greeting. She nodded her head in his direction.

“Your father’s behind you.”

“And you didn’t answer any of my questions.” Emma turned to her father and raised a finger, indicating that she needed a moment.

“They weren’t appropriate.” What she meant was that she didn’t want to think about it, or admit her true feelings about that incident out loud.

David was shuffling next to Emma, checking his watch, and then made some comment. Emma gave him a quick glance, nodded, and then raised an eyebrow back at Regina.

“You do, don’t you? Think about it? You think about it as often as I do. You think about it for the same reasons that I do. You think about it in exactly the same way I do.”

“No.” Regina shook her head. There was no conviction in action, or in her tone, and her eyes were still locked with Emma’s. “I don’t.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

Emma looked over at her father, who was half-turned away to give them privacy. She sighed into the phone. “Aren’t you tired of pretending, Regina? I know I am. I’m tired of pretending that we’re just friends and that I don’t want you all the fucking time. I’m tired of pretending that I don’t want to be with you, because I do, and I don’t even know what we’re waiting for anymore.”

“Emma, I—” She didn’t know what to say, because she hadn’t expected their flirting to take such an honest and emotional turn.

“It’s okay. I get it.” Emma stared at her feet and shuffled from side-to-side. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

Emma ended the call and slipped her phone into the back pocket of her pants, clapping a hand to David’s shoulder. Regina’s phone remained against her cheek, and she found herself incapable of moving. As David and Emma walked away in the direction of the school, Emma turned and gave a grin and a final shrug, whether in apology or something else, Regina didn’t know.

It was several long minutes before she felt composed enough to get up and head back to her office.

+

Despite trying hard to push the conversation with Emma to the back of her mind, Regina found herself unable to concentrate on anything at all except the images she had of their time together in Neverland. They hadn’t even fully undressed, and that was one of the few regrets Regina had, because she had seen enough of Emma in the years since to know that her naked body would be a sight to behold.

She managed to endure nearly an hour of pretending to work but getting nothing done before she left her office and informed her secretary that she would be out for the rest of the afternoon.

It didn’t take long for her to drive out to the edge of forest where she knew Emma would be. It was a popular spot with most of the teens in the area, some overturned trees not far from the roadside offering a natural seating area where they could sneak out with their girlfriends or friends and misbehave in universal teenage ways. As a result, the area was littered with beer cans and cigarette ends and food wrappers.

She slowed down as soon as she spied Emma and David standing ahead, their arms crossed over the chests as they oversaw the clean-up detail. There were about a dozen or so unhappy looking kids with garbage bags in one hand and grabber sticks—did they have an actual name?—in the other. It was obvious to her, but probably not to the children, that Emma and David were struggling to keep the amusement from their faces at the background level of constant grumbling and grousing from their charges.

As she drove past, she hoped Henry wasn’t one of the those who had contributed to the mess, although she suspected he’d find his way out there sooner or later. Maybe she and Emma should have The Talk with him more formally. Emma had already covered the basic mechanics of ‘It’s totally normal to feel this way’ and ‘Masturbation’s nothing to be ashamed of’, and they had lectured him together on being mature and respectful and definitely, definitely never getting anyone pregnant. Emma had been more emphatic on that point, but Regina had agreed wholeheartedly.

It didn’t escape her notice that David and Emma had stopped supervising and were watching her car pull to a stop. She smirked as she got out, raising an eyebrow at Emma, whose face flushed with an unnamed emotion—regret, maybe, or possibly a little fear. That would be good, if it were true. Frankly, she enjoyed the fact that Emma remained just a little bit scared of her.

“Sheriff Swan, Sheriff Nolan.” She nodded to them in acknowledgement as she approached.

When Emma didn’t even move to respond, David shot her a glare and stepped forward instead. “Mayor Mills, what a surprise to see you.” He extended his hand while Emma merely stared at her, her face unreadable. She shook his hand once and then turned to the collection of teens, all of whom had stopped working and were watching with varying levels of feigned disinterest.

“I thought I should come to see how well our young people are doing in fulfilling their community service.”

“I think they’re doing their best.” David stepped up next to her, glancing over his shoulder towards Emma, who seemed rooted to the spot, her face slack and her hands hanging by her sides.

“Well, that’s surely all we can ask of anyone, that they try to be the best version of themselves?” Clearly, she was not merely referring to the disgruntled young adults on clean-up duty.

David nodded and smiled back at her. “It certainly is.”

“And the town appreciates their efforts.” She recognised some as classmates of Henry’s, and a couple gave embarrassed little shrugs, not really sure how they were expected to respond. “Anyway,” she clapped her gloved hands together, “I shan’t keep you. I just wanted to drop by to say that I think they’re all doing a fine thing, giving of their time to help keep this town beautiful.” She turned again, taking a few steps backward towards her car, arching her eyebrow towards Emma, who still had not moved an inch. “If we could have a brief word, Sheriff?”

She walked around to the far side of the Mercedes, and leaned back against it, waiting for Emma, who sauntered over to stand a few feet in front of her, hands on hips and sunglasses back in place, covering her eyes. Emma in combat pants and Sheriff’s Department t-shirt really was quite the most attractive thing Regina had ever seen. The clothes merely enhanced Emma’s natural cockiness, a trait which Regina didn’t want to even like, but found herself drawn to regardless.

“Regina,” Emma said in greeting.

“About earlier,” she said, lifting her hand to her mouth and stroking her fingers across her lips. She didn’t have to be able to see Emma’s eyes to know that she was watching avidly.

“Yes?”

“You were inappropriate.”

Emma shrugged, rocking on the balls of her feet. “Probably.”

“But, I was rude.” She looked over her shoulder. No-one was really paying attention to them, and the car was partially shielding them from view anyway. Nonetheless, she dropped her voice lower. “You asked a number of questions, and I refused to answer you, which can only be construed as rudeness on my part. For that, I apologise.”

“Okay.” Emma cocked her head to the side, not sure where the conversation was going at all. “I don’t think you need to—” Emma’s words ended in a squeak as Regina reached out her free hand and tucked her pinky into Emma’s belt loop and tugged her closer to her. There was only about seven or eight inches of space between them, and, this close, Regina could follow the line of Emma’s neck and see the pulse fluttering against her skin as Emma swallowed. Hard.

“Oh, but I do, Emma.” She was enjoying how shallow Emma’s breathing had become, and the way her chest rose and fell. “Because I left you under a misapprehension as to my thoughts about our previous,” she paused for emphasis, “liaison, and about our current relationship.”

“You don’t, you don’t think about any of it?” Emma’s words were faltering, and she pulled her sunglasses off, tucking them into the neckband of her t-shirt.

“Oh, Emma.” She shook her head. She lifted her hand and trailed her fingernails across the smooth skin of Emma’s forearm. “That’s not what I meant at all.” She brought her hand back down, encircling Emma’s wrist so that her thumb pressed against the pulse point. “What I meant was that I am not one to dwell on the past.”

“No?”

“I much prefer to focus on the present and the future.” She stroked her thumb over Emma’s wrist. The skin was so soft, but she knew how strong those arms could be, what force could be generated by those hands and fingers. “A good politician must be able to weigh up the pros and cons of potential scenarios in her head, work through the ramifications of each and every possible position.” She smirked, because Emma was almost squirming now, her jaw tight and her abdominal muscles clenched, even as her hips were trying to drive forward. “And I give a lot of thought to future scenarios and positions with you, Emma.”

“Yeah?” It was barely a whisper, and Emma’s pulse was racing.

“What I think about, Emma,” she leaned forward, “in those moments when I am in bed at night, and I touch myself, is not what we did during one stolen afternoon fuelled by fear and adrenaline, but rather what we would be capable of together, now, here in Storybrooke, with all the time in the world at our disposal to explore each other without limits or distractions.” She let her gaze drift down to Emma’s chest, and then to her lips. She ran her tongue over her own lower lip, slowly enough to make the right impression.

“What I think about, Emma, is how you would feel in my bed next to me.” She chuckled. “Or, rather, under me. Oftentimes, on top of me. Almost always inside of me. And also with me inside of you. Both scenarios work for me. Both scenarios make me come all over my hand, wishing it was your fingers rather than my own.”

Emma was biting her lip and shaking her head, but Regina didn’t believe that she wished her to stop. She moved the hand which was holding Emma’s belt loop, placing her palm against the zipper of the jeans and pressing her fingers against Emma, whose eyes widened and then half-closed. Emma jerked her head in the direction of the children and her father.

“They can’t see or hear us,” Regina assured her. She was careful not to make even the slightest motion with the hand between Emma’s thighs, but she didn’t need to: Emma was rocking against her of her own accord. “What I think about when I’m fucking myself is what you would do if I were to visit you in the Sheriff’s station during your lunch break and while your father was out on patrol. Would you let me fuck you against the wall, or would you prefer to have me sit in your lap and ride your hand? Bend me over your desk and take me from behind? Have me on my knees before you? I promise you, in each of those scenarios, the noises you could pull from me would make Neverland seem like a whimper.” She withdrew her hand from Emma’s groin, holding it up between them and flexing her fingers as Emma had done to her at the diner.

“I think about what you’d taste like, licked from my fingers after an afternoon of making you beg for more. I think about what I’d taste like on your mouth. I imagine how tight you’d be as I eased three fingers inside you.” She tilted her head and looked at Emma’s neck. “I think about discovering where to bite you to make you moan, and how to touch you to make you scream my name, and finding those unexpected places which will make you squirm in all the best ways.”

“Jesus fuck, Regina.” Emma looked almost pained, but she deserved it. If you played with fire, after all, you had to expect to get burned.

“But, today, what I have been thinking about is you, Emma. I’ve been thinking about what might happen if I were to tell you that Henry is going straight from school to Nicholas’s house for dinner and that I have arranged to pick him up at 8pm. I have been considering what might happen if I were to tell you that I am also tired of pretending that I could ever want or need anyone other than you. Always you. Only you.”

“And what do you think happens?” Emma’s smile was tentative, but real.

She removed her hand from Emma’s wrist and opened the driver’s door of her Mercedes.

“I rather think that depends on you, Emma.”

Emma didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be done by four.”

As Regina got in the car, Emma clasped her hands behind her back and tried to keep the grin off her face.

She failed.

+

At 4pm precisely, there was a knock at the door of 108 Mifflin Street. Regina wasn’t exactly hovering in the doorway. She happened, by pure chance, to be close to the door at the time. Of course, she was close to the door because she had been pacing her foyer for the previous five minutes.

“I know what happens,” Emma said, barging into the house without further preamble.

“Is that so?” Regina closed the door and turned, leaning back against it.

“Yeah.” Emma was kneeling down, unlacing the army-style boots.

“And what’s that, then?”

“I fuck you here, quick and fast, ’cause I’m sure as shit not waiting any longer than necessary.” Emma stood up and kicked her boots towards the wall. “Then we see how many times I can get you to make the universal noise of fucking before we go together to pick up Henry.” She took a few steps towards Regina and crossed her arms, grabbing the hem of her tight Sheriff’s Department t-shirt and pulling it over her head, dropping it to the floor.

Regina’s mouth curled into a broad grin, because Emma’s body was exactly as glorious as she expected. “And then?” she asked, lifting her hands to the buttons of her blouse and undoing them as Emma started unbuckling her belt.

“Then we come home, have supper with our son and count the minutes until he goes to bed so we can start all over again.”

+

“By the way, Kathryn invited us to dinner on Saturday.” Regina trailed her fingers across Emma’s belly, wondering if they had time for another round before having to get dressed.

“Us?”

“Yes, us.”

“As a couple?”

“Hmm.” She pressed a soft kiss to Emma’s stomach. “Well, actually, she invited me and told me that, if I didn’t bring you, she’d set me up with Assistant Coach Collins.”

Emma pushed herself up slightly, dislodging Regina’s head from its resting place on her ribs. Regina looked up to see those hazel eyes, almost brown in the half-light of the bedroom, staring back intently. There were times when Emma literally took her breath away, and this was one of them.

“You are not going on a date with Matt Collins.”

Regina smiled. “No?”

“No.” Emma reached out and grabbed Regina’s shoulders, pulling her towards her.

“Why not?” Regina’s grin grew wider as she let their naked bodies slide against each other. She took her time in settling on top of Emma, marvelling at the fact that her body seemed to be finding energy again. She adjusted her legs to straddle Emma’s waist, and chuckled when Emma moaned at feeling Regina’s wetness against her skin.

“Because,” and there was a little hitch in Emma’s voice, as her hands found Regina’s ass and started encouraging Regina to grind down against her, “he needs to understand that you’re OPP.”

Regina licked along Emma’s clavicle. “OPP?”

“Mmm.” Emma’s fingers were digging into her ass cheeks. “Yeah.”

“And that means?” She braced herself on her hands and lifted her upper body, looking down at Emma’s face. Her eyes were closed and her bottom lip was between her teeth and she was so, so beautiful that Regina wondered how she had ever survived without this sight for so long.

“Other people’s property.”

“Oh, really?”

Emma surprised her by pushing up into a seated position, her hands finding Regina’s hips to keep her securely in her lap. Her own hands shifted to Emma’s shoulders to balance herself. Emma had to tip her head back to look her in the eyes.

“Yeah, you belong to me.”

“Do I now?” She trailed her fingers up Emma’s neck, settling at the back of her head.

“Now and always.” Emma’s tone was confident and she nodded firmly, but her eyes always betrayed her. They were searching Regina’s face for approval, making sure that she hadn’t gone too far, overstepped the bounds of whatever they were.

She leaned forward and kissed a line just above Emma’s eyebrow.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Emma repeated, and Regina nodded. Emma hugged Regina to her, her arms wrapping around Regina’s waist. “Always?”

“We’ll see.”

“We’ll see?” Emma chuckled, her breath tickling the fine hairs of Regina’s neck, and Regina laughed in reply.

“Ask me again in ten years,” she said, pulling Emma’s head back and kissing her lightly on the lips. “Maybe twenty.”