20in20 ficlets (mostly Emma/Regina)
1. Blue - Emma/Regina
She doesn't often wear colour. She did, once, but that often feels like another version of her. The red jacket of Emma's doesn't fascinate her as much because it's almost too bright, too tacky, but the blue suits her. There's a seriousness to Emma's blue biker jacket that should hold no fascination, but it does.
Perhaps because blue was a colour she wore when she was innocent, before she knew of the world outside of her quiet little life. Maybe because the last time she fell, he wore blue and she still remembers the way his cloak felt.
Emma's blue leather whispers against Regina's black coat when they're close enough to kiss, as if their clothing knows something they don't.
2. Royalty - Henry
His mom has always been queen. He's learned slowly to drop the evil from her title but she's always been kind of, you know, 'regal', like she was meant to be queen. Emma's never in charge. She never tries to be the leader. Sure, she led, sort of, getting him home, but she's the one who says they were always a team. He's never seen her that way, as the princess, the heir, but she is.
Mary Margaret, Queen Snow White, puts a crown on Emma's head and makes her stand. She smiles, maybe to make Emma smile because Emma looks like the crown burns her skin. Maybe it does. Maybe it's really as heavy as his grandmother says it is.
His fancy suit itches and he wants to squirm but he can't, because Mom's looking at him and Emma's walking towards him and its his turn to kneel so Emma can put the circlet on his head.
It is heavy.
3. Place - Regina & Henry
Tossing stones at the beach, she stares out at the ship. They're nearly ready, Snow and Emma are checking their supplies, Hook's giving his ship a once over and then they'll leave. Regina would not have traded Charming for Baelfire. She might even miss the prince and though she's wanted Snow to suffer for nearly all the time she's known her, watching her grieve does nothing. She doesn't enjoy it.
She wanted to. She should be happy, because Henry's back, but Neverland has taken. Tinkerbelle's gone, they'll bury Charming at sea so he doesn't have to sleep in Neverland's cursed ground.
Henry leaves his father and sits on the beach next to her. She doesn't dare hug him, but he takes her hand. He hides his tears, but he's lost his grandfather to this island, and something deeper is gone.
When he hugs her, he's not the little boy he was.
4. Badass - Henry
His grandmother carries a bow, and her arrows fly true. His grandfather, even while dying, carries his sword, slicing through the jungle. Of course, Emma is both of them. Quick with a sword, strong and brave. He knew she would save him.
It's his Mom at her side that surprises him most. She'd come for him, he's always known that. Mom will never let him go. Fire explodes from her hands, burning through Peter's shadow army. Swords flash around him and his doubt burns with the jungle.
His mother's love him. His family will always come for him. He draws the knife, holds it close and silently closes in on Peter. He is like them. Fearless.
5. heartbreak - Charming/Snow
She can't leave him. Dragging a body through the wilderness, especially this cursed jungle, is foolish, even reckless, and they have to hurry. Henry needs them. David's last words were of Henry, reminding her to take care of their family.
What's left of it needs her to be rational, to be careful, to realise that David's body is just a shell and bringing him with will do nothing.
Yet, she can't leave him. Not here for the worms and rats. He should be home, in a crypt, beneath the stones of his castle, in the woods where they hid, in Storybrooke, anywhere but here. She can't take him with her.
Regina offers to take his heart, because that she can preserve, even with him dead. She can barely speak, but she forms the words.
"Thank you."
That, she can save.
6. family - Emma/Regina
This isn't what she intended. The snow falls thick, hissing as it meets the blanket on the ground. Even the more reliable Mercedes won't start, not with the chill in the air. Regina winds her fingers into Emma's, wrapping their wooly mittens together. Snow sticks to her hat, clings to the hair that's escaped and frames her face with sparkling crystals.
Regina's breath makes a mist in the air and they'll have to use magic, or they'll be late. They teleport together, skipping through the storm. Henry's already there, laughing as Mary Margaret and David chase him through the snow fort in their backyard.
Emma and Regina stand together, hand in hand on the driveway. Nerves, not the cold, send a shiver up Emma's spine.
Henry runs up to them, hands full of snow, cheeks red. "You made it."
He drops the snowball and hugs them both in a mass of coats and arms. Regina's tears stick on her eyelashes and Emma watches them freeze while David and Mary Margaret walk up to them, pulling the baby in his snowsuit on the sled.
"Of course we made it," Emma says. "It's Christmas."
"But Mom was sick--"
"I'm fine," Regina promises, resting her hand on Henry's shoulder. "I'm fine."
David asks with his eyes but he keeps the question to himself. Mary Margaret's smile flickers and spreads until it covers all of her face.
"Ruby and Granny are coming. Ruby promised she'd make it even if she had to drag Granny on a sled herself."
David hands the baby to Emma's mother, and Henry takes the sled, content that his mothers have arrived, even if they're late.
"You're all right?" he asks, meeting Regina's eyes with a sympathy that Emma hasn't seen before.
"Fine," Emma says, her reflexes taking over.
"What Emma means to say that we spent the morning on the bathroom floor."
David touches her shoulder, squeezing through her coat. "It'll get easier."
Regina's fresh tears melt the frozen ones in her lashes and Emma wants to wrap her up and take her away, but her father won't hurt her. He's smiling and there's no accusation, no guilt. He's not asking why they did it, or how it happened if they didn't mean to. He doesn't tell Emma to watch her magic, or mention how Regina should stop using it.
David smiles. Mary Margaret and the baby wave them into the house. Henry runs ahead, but comes back.
"Are you coming?"
"We are," Emma says. "We just need a second."
"Are you watching the snow?" Henry looks across their faces.
"Yes--" Emma begins.
"Henry--" Regina interrupts. "We need to tell you something."
"Okay." He shifts in his boots. So tall now, so grown up. The snow in his hair looks so much like Regina's.
7. water - Emma/Regina
They make trades. One life disappears into the sea, ashes sinking with the tide; another rises from the water, growing and twisting within, like a lost sea creature before they dry her off and welcome her to land. Everything she sees with new eyes has been seen before, loved before, but it's all new to her.
Emma throws towels in the basket, soaked in blood, fluid and water. She didn't realise how much of a mess it would be when she agreed that Regina could have the baby in their bedroom. She didn't have much of a choice. Often their agreements involve little debate. She sees what Regina doesn't, and most often, she doesn't want the choice. She's had her freedom. Emma's been alone. She welcomes the compromises because they mean they're united.
She buried Cora, letting her ashes float into the sea. Regina wasn't there, unless she watched from afar. Emma gave her enemy to the water, leaving her to the sea. Today she caught her daughter, held her as the sea Regina's body built for her set her free to scream at the cold and the light.
She wonders if Cora can see Regina's smile when she holds their daughter close. What would she say, watching her daughter have what she never allowed herself?
While David and Mary Margaret fuss over Regina and the baby, and Henry plays video games without being too cool to grin at the baby whenever her eyes open, Emma leaves them to run. In the cool morning, she stares at the sea, remembering Cora's lonely ashes in sharp contrast to the warmth of the family they've built. Her tears heat her face, and Emma leaves them to the sea.
8. Love - Emma/Regina, Henry
This wasn't in the book. Maybe happy endings are different here. Maybe Emma just doesn't fit like everything else. He hasn't figured it out. He doesn't want to at first, because they're getting along and it's nice that they don't fight and he can have dinner with both of his moms.
Then they start having coffee together, stopping their conversations when he walks in. They touch, hands meeting before they part. Emma brushes Mom's shoulder. Mom smiles the way he's never seen her smile before. They sit at the table long after he's finished dinner. Mom laughs and Emma's the one who makes her keep laughing until she cries.
He stands outside the door, listening as the laughter ends abruptly. He knows the sound, the sudden hitch of breath; he's not a child any more. He'll read a little longer tonight. Someone will call for him, when they're ready.
He can wait.
9. Deception - Charming/Snow
"We don't lie to each other."
He tried to do everything to keep that grief from her eyes, but in the end, dreamshade is stronger than he is. Perhaps true love has limits, and they're in the flesh. Dreamshade has no magic component. It's simple poison, from an island of death. Kisses work around curses and comas, but nothing can beat this.
"Maybe we should," he whispers, wishing he had the strength to lift his hand. Snow grabs it for him.
"Charming--"
His breath lags, too little to let him speak.
Snow shuts her eyes and leans down to his chest. "When we get home, we're going to get a house. A little one with a blue door."
10. Team - Emma/Regina
"It's soccer."
"I've heard of it, thank you."
"Do you want me to-?"
"No, I've researched the rules."
Emma shifts in her seat. She should say something. Emma was being nice and that means she ought to be appreciative.
"Are there any differences I should know about? From the standard rules, I mean."
Emma passes Regina a cup of coffee from her thermos. "You mean how did kids pay differently than the Olympics? What did you look up?"
"The internationally accepted rules for the sport." What else would she look up?
Emma points at the goal. "The goal is smaller, because the kids are too short to guard the big one. The boundaries are a little smaller and they're only playing five-a-side in this game because our team's pretty small. Henry's one of the wingers."
"Wingers?"
Emma points. "There he is. Midfield attacker."
"I'd prefer he wasn't engaged in violence."
"He's only attacking the goal, and give it a minute. You'll want the other team dead once they start."
The whistle cuts shrill through the air and the children run at each other in a flash of purple socks versus orange.
11. Birth - Regina
Her mother did not hold her long. Regina would not remember how quickly her mother set her aside, or the wet nurse who replaced her mother that evening, when she wailed to be fed. She had no knowledge that it was her father who held her tight and rocked her when she cried.
She learned his voice; smiled first as he sang to her. As a prince, he had duties, but none he took as seriously as fatherhood. His own father had never sung, but he knew his mother's songs. Regina was still too young to know the words, but the love in his voice made her safe.
12. Childhood
When she was bad, her mother picked her up. Magic held her up, high in the air until she begged, pleaded and promised to be good. She tried to be good. She always tried, but it was hard. She liked to read more than she liked her other lessons, geography and history. She didn't want to do sums until she was smart enough to be queen.
She wasn't even a princess. Mother wanted her to be, but she wasn't. Maybe she wasn't good enough. Mother never thought she was good enough, even when she did all her lessons. She didn't like the pretty dresses that Mother did. Lace was itchy, petticoats made it hard to sit still and Mother liked her to be still.
She would do better. Someday she'd be good before Mother asked.
13. Puberty - Regina
Blood dried sticky on her thighs. She had taken off her drawers, tried to was them but the water turned pink and they were never going to be white again. In the night, none of the servants were awake to help her. Would they be ruined before morning? What would her mother want her to do? Flowering was supposed to be the beginning of womanhood. It had even sounded magical when Mother spoke of weddings and princes.
She hadn't said it would be sticky. Regina didn't dare go back to bed. She'd get blood on her sheets and those would be even harder to wash. Pulling on her oldest pair of drawers, she dressed in her riding clothes. Mother didn't like them, so she wouldn't be angry. Sneaking out to the stable, she hid in the hay above the horses, pulling the old blanket close and stuffing a rag between her legs.
The stars hung high overhead and she watched the moon rise over the hill. The horses shuffled and wickered to each other in the darkness. Rubbing the blood off her hands, Regina thought of the princes in tales and wondered if the one she'd marry would like horses.
14. Middle - Emma/Regina
Emma takes her hands before she reaches for her. She balls her fingers in the sheets, trying to forget the pain. Hot iron tightens around her belly, flashing into her spine as if setting fire to her nerves. Gasping, she pulls Emma closer.
"Don't scream," Emma whispers again. "Save your strength."
"Easy for you--" she can't finish.
Emma kisses her forehead, wiping sweat with her hand before she takes Regina's again. "You make everything difficult. You know that."
"Your baby, your fault." Panting into Emma's chest, Regina tries to count, to wait for it to end.
"Henry was easy."
"Five hours." She was twice that last time she asked. The sun hasn't come up again, but there's light in the window past Emma's head.
"He was in a hurry. Maybe he knew he was coming to you."
Emma kisses her again. "Breathe, just breathe."
15. Twilight - Emma/Regina
Sometimes, she forgets that her hair was black. It's been white so long that it seems it's always been that way. Emma made so much fun of her when it was salt and pepper. Emma's went gold, then silver, and she was always beautiful. Still young in her eyes. Regina doesn't think she's been as lucky, but Emma still calls her beautiful.
They're too old to do much about it now and lying next to each other is what she dreams about in the night, not being pushed against the wall and kissed. She loved that, once, and she has a memory full of wonders.
Emma tugs her sleeve, drawing her attention to the setting over their garden. The sunflowers are sleeping, bowing their heads where the grandchildren planted them. There are five, and next summer they will plant siz.
Patting Emma's hand, Regina strokes her gnarled fingers and remembers when Emma's skin had no spots. They're a map of constellations now, a record of the life they've lived.
16. Secret- Emma/Regina
Mulan leaves the Sheriff's station when she enters. She nods to her politely enough and heads out on her patrol. Emma turns up from her paperwork, coffee in hand.
"Hey."
"Hey," Regina replies, still unsure of the word and the way she feels when Emma says it. "May I take a moment of your time?"
"All yours," Emma says, pushing herself gratefully back from her desk. "Anything that's not paperwork."
"Busy week?"
"Our new ruling council has an entirely different legal structure than the State of Maine. It's all new paperwork and I just haven't wrapped my head around writing 'Queen and King' on everything."
Regina leans against Emma's desk, smiling. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. Just, don't tell my parents I kind of miss you being in charge."
"I'd never dream of it."
17. Time- Emma/Regina
It's a weird place for a picnic, just behind the sign that welcomes people to Storybrooke who will never arrive. Regina insisted, and Emma wouldn't dare be late. Still, even on the best days, there's always something that needs her to save it.
She's literally spent the last hour saving a cat from a tree and trying not to make every joke she's ever heard about Cheshire cats because she knows it won't go over well with Jefferson and his daughter, yet she wants to, because the damn cat has been smiling at her.
When she finally pulls up, Regina waves at her in that innocent, almost carefree way she has only when no one else is looking. Emma starts to apologise when her feet hit the grass, but Regina only smiles and welcomes her.
After, when she's stopped neurotically checking her hand to make sure her ring's still there after Regina's slipped it onto her finger, Emma understands why this is the one time she's going to be allowed to be late.
18. Letter - Emma/Regina
"What is this?" Emma calls from the bedroom.
"You'll have to be more specific, dear," Regina replies from the stairs. Making her way down the hallway, she stops when Emma emerges, towels in hand. Raising her eyebrows, Regina folds her arms. "They're towels."
"Yeah." Emma twists the Egyptian cotton to reveal the monogram. "This."
"Those are the letters 'EMS', dear."
"On my towels."
"Of course."
"Because I can't use your towels?"
"Of course you can." Regina tilts her head, perplexed. "You've been using mine ever since we gave nearly everything from your apartment to charity."
"Yours with the 'RM' on them."
"I added an 'S'" Regina reminds her, taking one of her neatly folded towels from the linen closet for emphasis.
"At the end."
"I couldn't very well add it in the middle."
Emma waves her hand over the towels and the letters rearrange themselves to be 'ESM' on her towels and 'RSM' on Regina's. "We agreed."
"You think we agreed."
"Swan-Mills sounds--"
"Like a cereal company."
"Like Mills-Swan is any better? It sounds like a crossword hint."
"I hardly think--"
"What's wrong with Mills?" Emma asks, taking all the towels from Regina's hands and tossing them onto the floor in a heap between their feet. "No Swan. Just Mills."
"It's not--"
"There's not rule that all same-sex couples have to hyphenate. Swan's not even me. It's what I was assigned."
"But I--"
"I love you. Even with your fancy towels that I'm just going to leave on the floor."
Regina starts to argue and stops, because there's truth in that. "You'd take Mills?"
"I'd take 'the Miller's Granddaughter's trophy wife' if it meant I get you." Emma steps over the towels, easing Regina towards the wall. "I love you."
19. Light - Emma/Regina
"We have to work tomorrow."
"It's just one day."
"You have to work."
"I'll have coffee."
"Emma--"
"This is important."
"If you want explosions in the sky, I can do that, easily." Regina waves her hands as if summoning a fireball.
"This is American."
"I'm not."
"I sort of am," Emma begins. "I mean, I thought I was. I suppose I'm not really anything."
"Don't say that." Regina seems so appalled at the prospect that Emma smiles to calm her.
"I meant nationally. I wasn't born here, so even though I love fireworks, they're not mine."
Regina slips her arm around Emma's back, holding her close. "Your parents would have had fireworks for you. If- if things had been different."
Fireworks start to explode in the sky, falling as the booms echo around them.
"For me?"
Kissing her cheek, Regina nods. "Of course. Every year, on your birthday."
Emma rests her head on Regina's shoulder and watches the Fourth of July fireworks, wondering what it would be like if all of them were for her. "Seriously?"
Regina kisses her forehead. "You're the princess."
20. Accident- Emma/Regina
"You've talked about, you know," Emma says, clutching her coffee and leaning forward across the table.
Regina lifts the towel currently obscuring the pregnancy test on the table and checks again, for the fiftieth time. Still positive. "Of course we have, though I did not think I'd need to cover the likelihood of such an event occurring between two women."
"So it doesn't happen?"
"Apparently it does." Dropping the towel, she watches Emma sip her coffee. Her hands tremble on the mug but Regina's are steady.
"How can you be so--?"
"What?"
"Calm." Emma gulps more coffee. "Collected. Sane. Two months ago there's a thunderstorm and boom, you're pregnant and I- well- I guess I did it."
"There's no blame here, Emma."
"Shouldn't there be?"
"Why?"
"It's unplanned. We didn't even talk about wanting another kid. Henry--"
"Is a wise, thoughtful young man."
"When we don't have to tell him that we fucked and I got you knocked up because I can't control my sparkly fingers." Emma waves her hands for emphasis, sending shivers of magic through the air to raise the hairs on the back of Regina's neck.
"I doubt you want to use those words."
"You know what I mean."
"I don't, really." Refilling Emma's mug, Regina sits back down across from her. "It's an accident. Magic has accidents. Better that we created life than destroyed it."
"Is it okay? Human? Will she be green?"
Laughing, Regina shakes her head. "I highly doubt even you and I could produce a green offspring."
"But someone could?"
"Trolls, a green fairy--" Regina shrugs. "Perhaps a siren or a mermaid."
"No mermaids," Emma says. "We've got enough to deal with."
The door creaks and Henry's heavy footsteps hurry in.
"Hello? You guys home?"
Emma reaches for the evidence, hidden in the towel and stuffs it into the drawer behind her.
"Emma--"
"After dinner." She sighs heavily. "Or, now, I just, no one needs to see a little stick his mom had to pee on."
Swallowing her laughter, Regina reaches across the table and takes Emma's hand. "We'll be fine."
"What's up?" Henry asks, throwing himself down in a chair with his bag lazily on the table.