Whatever This Is (Once Upon a Time; Regina/Emma)
TITLE: Whatever This Is
CHAPTER 12: Flight
FANDOM: Once Upon a Time
PAIRING: Swan Queen (Regina/Emma)
SPOILERS: AU from beginning of "The Cricket Game"
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: She knows Emma has noticed her behavior throughout the day, and mostly she’s shrugged it off simply because the catalyst is too much for her to think about right now. But not wanting to think about it only seems to intensify what’s there, and what’s there is frightening.
*****
The queen has fallen. And it’s in the literal sense this time, as Emma’s suggestion for the ‘Never’ game stops Regina cold. The smile, previously on her face, is wiped clean off. Her hand flinches over the chess board, knocking the queen on its side.
She watches the marble piece roll, nudging aside a pawn, as Emma’s words sink in. Never have I ever kissed a woman.
It certainly ups the ante from Regina’s last ‘never,’ but she had been unaware that this game was supposed to escalate. “What?” she asks, for lack of any other words.
Emma edges up on her knees, an elbow on the coffee table. “You heard me.”
Why is she suddenly being so bold? Certainly the song playing carries a provocative beat and tune, but that can’t be the only thing spurring this advance.
She knows Emma has noticed her behavior throughout the day, and mostly she’s shrugged it off simply because the catalyst is too much for her to think about right now. But not wanting to think about it only seems to intensify what’s there, and what’s there is frightening.
She’s developed feelings for Emma Swan. It’s difficult to pinpoint when exactly it happened, but it’s there nonetheless. She looks forward to seeing her, her heart skips like mad whenever her hand or arm is in Emma’s grasp, and she doesn’t want her to leave town.
And now, with the mention of a kiss, she’s experiencing the very same polarizing emotions she’d experienced when she thought Daniel was about to kiss her for the first time: sheer terror combined with almost combustible excitement.
“Regina?”
Is this actually happening? Some aspect of this insanity has to be a dream. Or a nightmare. She’s fallen victim to a curse and is living in an alternate world where she and Emma Swan are friends, and she’s developed a schoolgirl crush on her. It’s completely absurd.
Still, she takes the shot glass in a shaking hand and throws it back, meeting Emma’s saucer-wide eyes.
“You’ve…”
The question dangles and she nods. Yes, she’s kissed women.
Her time as a widowed queen, before she began plotting her curse, brought her many suitors. Mostly men, though there were the occasional handmaidens that would alter her form-fitting dresses with lust in their eyes. It never meant anything to her. They were just… warm bodies.
Warm bodies to fill her bed. Desperate mouths and beating hearts to fill the void left by Daniel - reminders of human contact before vengeance consumed her every pore. But they never meant anything to her. But this is quite different.
This one means something.
“I find it hard to believe that you haven’t,” Regina shoots back, gripping the granite coffee table for support. Her heart is thundering and they can’t do this - they mustn’t do this.
“Well… not outside a game of Truth or Dare, no. But Truth or Dare doesn't count.” Emma’s eyes flick down to her lips and back up again.
Whatever game Emma’s playing right now, Regina is going to lose. She’s already lost her dignity in becoming friends with this woman that always tried to get under her skin. Her sanity was lost when feelings began to develop. Who knows what she’ll lose if their lips meet?
And whatever is making the blonde advance their relationship in this way, Regina knows it’s fleeting. It’s an urge that will pass before the night is through.
She doesn't feel the same way and this cannot happen.
Still, she finds herself craving the contact. She turns the queen upright again, though she herself continues to feel as if she's upside down. Nothing about this entire day and this night makes any sense. Except, strangely, when they woke up together in her bed that morning. Unfortunately, that made perfect sense.
"Regina..."
She blinks herself back to coherency, meeting Emma's eyes. "Yes. Right. Well, seeing as how you gave me an introduction to the art of slow-dancing..."
Emma raises her brows. "Yeah, that was nothing like the slow-dancing I did in junior high. Or high school. Never levitated before."
"Still. I suppose it's my duty to... introduce you to this."
The look of excitement lighting Emma's eyes is unmistakable, and Regina wonders if even Emma herself is aware of what she's feeling, if anything. At the very least, Regina assumes it's attraction. But then, that's nothing new.
Even when they met there was a strangely-charged energy there. The blonde's eyes had swept over her, and Regina had let her own eyes wander. But then the animosity set in and any initial attraction was forgotten.
Now, it seems, the sheriff is remembering.
Regina takes a breath and steels herself -- whatever's about to happen isn't going to end well. She scoots a little closer, her eyes going to Emma's lips as she begins to lean in. It's only going to hurt her, in the end. Their lips are a breath away.
She never claimed not to be a masochist.
With the lightest touch, she grazes Emma's lips with her own, feeling them instantly fall open. She sucks in a breath as inaudibly as she can and then takes the bottom lip between both of hers. Her blood begins to boil.
Emma tastes like wine and the faintest trace of spice. Regina feels warm all over, a wonderful kind of numbness settling in at the top of her head and sliding down to her toes. She opens her eyes, just halfway, just to peek at Emma.
When she does, she finds the blonde's hand braced on the couch, clenching into a shaking fist. Regina moves to cover that hand with her own and when Emma suddenly leans into her and devours her mouth, she quickly discovers what she's about to lose:
Control.
The entire room spins and Regina lands on her back roughly. Emma's hand behind her head acts as a cushion and there's a clash of tongues and teeth. The kiss is electric, so much so that Regina swears she can hear small bolts of electricity, literal sparks flying between them. Everything explodes in a haze of swirling violet and blue and she feels airbone, only brought back to earth when Emma slides on top of her, nestling into the cradle of her hips.
The kiss breaks with a loud smack and her head lolls to the side, her exposed neck instantly covered with hot, wet kisses. She wants everything the blonde is willing to give -- if it's not love now and never will be then at least she can have lust. It will never be enough, but it feels like it could be for now and she just wants to enjoy this as long as it lasts. Her eyes slip closed as she lets the savior's name slide from between her lips.
"Emma..."
And that's what breaks the spell. Reality seems to come crashing back to Emma all at once and she rips herself away with a string of curse words and "Oh God" and a repetitive stream of apologies.
The violet and blue clouds fade, and she thinks Emma didn't even notice they were there. Unless they were her imagination?
She blinks, trying to get things to come into focus through the fog of desire, and she pushes herself up. "What?"
"God, what the hell am I doing." Emma doesn't just back up -- she scrambles to her feet, eyes vacant and mouth agape.
Regina just stares, her arms feeble from whatever has just happened, and she struggles to get to her feet. "Wait..."
"No. God, this is all my fault." She looks up, her eyes wide. "Regina, I am so sorry."
Her stomach drops, though there's a part of her that expected such an outcome. All she can think to say is, "Please stay. Let's talk about this."
Emma shakes her head, her blonde hair in tangles, and Regina just realizes now that she'd had her hands stuffed in it and rumpling it during their kiss.
"I can't, I..." She's breathless, and her face and chest are flushed. She meets her eyes and her expression is shuttered, a far-off look in her eyes. She's in fight-or-flight mode, and the Emma Swan she's grown accustomed to always errs on the side of a fight. "I have to go."
Though not this time, apparently.
And she's gone before Regina can gather enough strength to react. Then she's left staring at an empty den -- at the chess game half-finished and the wine bottle with just enough left to fill another void. Regina grabs it by the neck and takes a gulp, damning her masochistic side.
One of the records Emma purchased is still spinning, that hauntingly seductive melody still flowing through the speakers. She walks over to it and looks down at the record, flicking the needle from it just hard enough to scratch.
Then she leaves it all behind -- the open pizza box, the chess game, the albums scattered about and the turned-over shot glasses. None matter in that moment. The neck of the wine bottle dangles between her fingertips as she ascends the staircase slowly, methodically, each step replaying a moment downstairs.
Three steps up and they're levitating, holding on to one another with peaceful smiles. Two more and Emma's staring at her lips; another three and she's on her back seeing swirls of violet and blue magic surrounding them.
She gets into bed without changing her clothes and rolls onto her side. She stares at the empty side that Emma occupied little more than twelve hours before. Then she guzzles the rest of the wine and waits for sleep to take her away.
TBC
{x-posted to onceupon_fanfic and regina_emma}
CHAPTER 12: Flight
FANDOM: Once Upon a Time
PAIRING: Swan Queen (Regina/Emma)
SPOILERS: AU from beginning of "The Cricket Game"
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: She knows Emma has noticed her behavior throughout the day, and mostly she’s shrugged it off simply because the catalyst is too much for her to think about right now. But not wanting to think about it only seems to intensify what’s there, and what’s there is frightening.
*****
The queen has fallen. And it’s in the literal sense this time, as Emma’s suggestion for the ‘Never’ game stops Regina cold. The smile, previously on her face, is wiped clean off. Her hand flinches over the chess board, knocking the queen on its side.
She watches the marble piece roll, nudging aside a pawn, as Emma’s words sink in. Never have I ever kissed a woman.
It certainly ups the ante from Regina’s last ‘never,’ but she had been unaware that this game was supposed to escalate. “What?” she asks, for lack of any other words.
Emma edges up on her knees, an elbow on the coffee table. “You heard me.”
Why is she suddenly being so bold? Certainly the song playing carries a provocative beat and tune, but that can’t be the only thing spurring this advance.
She knows Emma has noticed her behavior throughout the day, and mostly she’s shrugged it off simply because the catalyst is too much for her to think about right now. But not wanting to think about it only seems to intensify what’s there, and what’s there is frightening.
She’s developed feelings for Emma Swan. It’s difficult to pinpoint when exactly it happened, but it’s there nonetheless. She looks forward to seeing her, her heart skips like mad whenever her hand or arm is in Emma’s grasp, and she doesn’t want her to leave town.
And now, with the mention of a kiss, she’s experiencing the very same polarizing emotions she’d experienced when she thought Daniel was about to kiss her for the first time: sheer terror combined with almost combustible excitement.
“Regina?”
Is this actually happening? Some aspect of this insanity has to be a dream. Or a nightmare. She’s fallen victim to a curse and is living in an alternate world where she and Emma Swan are friends, and she’s developed a schoolgirl crush on her. It’s completely absurd.
Still, she takes the shot glass in a shaking hand and throws it back, meeting Emma’s saucer-wide eyes.
“You’ve…”
The question dangles and she nods. Yes, she’s kissed women.
Her time as a widowed queen, before she began plotting her curse, brought her many suitors. Mostly men, though there were the occasional handmaidens that would alter her form-fitting dresses with lust in their eyes. It never meant anything to her. They were just… warm bodies.
Warm bodies to fill her bed. Desperate mouths and beating hearts to fill the void left by Daniel - reminders of human contact before vengeance consumed her every pore. But they never meant anything to her. But this is quite different.
This one means something.
“I find it hard to believe that you haven’t,” Regina shoots back, gripping the granite coffee table for support. Her heart is thundering and they can’t do this - they mustn’t do this.
“Well… not outside a game of Truth or Dare, no. But Truth or Dare doesn't count.” Emma’s eyes flick down to her lips and back up again.
Whatever game Emma’s playing right now, Regina is going to lose. She’s already lost her dignity in becoming friends with this woman that always tried to get under her skin. Her sanity was lost when feelings began to develop. Who knows what she’ll lose if their lips meet?
And whatever is making the blonde advance their relationship in this way, Regina knows it’s fleeting. It’s an urge that will pass before the night is through.
She doesn't feel the same way and this cannot happen.
Still, she finds herself craving the contact. She turns the queen upright again, though she herself continues to feel as if she's upside down. Nothing about this entire day and this night makes any sense. Except, strangely, when they woke up together in her bed that morning. Unfortunately, that made perfect sense.
"Regina..."
She blinks herself back to coherency, meeting Emma's eyes. "Yes. Right. Well, seeing as how you gave me an introduction to the art of slow-dancing..."
Emma raises her brows. "Yeah, that was nothing like the slow-dancing I did in junior high. Or high school. Never levitated before."
"Still. I suppose it's my duty to... introduce you to this."
The look of excitement lighting Emma's eyes is unmistakable, and Regina wonders if even Emma herself is aware of what she's feeling, if anything. At the very least, Regina assumes it's attraction. But then, that's nothing new.
Even when they met there was a strangely-charged energy there. The blonde's eyes had swept over her, and Regina had let her own eyes wander. But then the animosity set in and any initial attraction was forgotten.
Now, it seems, the sheriff is remembering.
Regina takes a breath and steels herself -- whatever's about to happen isn't going to end well. She scoots a little closer, her eyes going to Emma's lips as she begins to lean in. It's only going to hurt her, in the end. Their lips are a breath away.
She never claimed not to be a masochist.
With the lightest touch, she grazes Emma's lips with her own, feeling them instantly fall open. She sucks in a breath as inaudibly as she can and then takes the bottom lip between both of hers. Her blood begins to boil.
Emma tastes like wine and the faintest trace of spice. Regina feels warm all over, a wonderful kind of numbness settling in at the top of her head and sliding down to her toes. She opens her eyes, just halfway, just to peek at Emma.
When she does, she finds the blonde's hand braced on the couch, clenching into a shaking fist. Regina moves to cover that hand with her own and when Emma suddenly leans into her and devours her mouth, she quickly discovers what she's about to lose:
Control.
The entire room spins and Regina lands on her back roughly. Emma's hand behind her head acts as a cushion and there's a clash of tongues and teeth. The kiss is electric, so much so that Regina swears she can hear small bolts of electricity, literal sparks flying between them. Everything explodes in a haze of swirling violet and blue and she feels airbone, only brought back to earth when Emma slides on top of her, nestling into the cradle of her hips.
The kiss breaks with a loud smack and her head lolls to the side, her exposed neck instantly covered with hot, wet kisses. She wants everything the blonde is willing to give -- if it's not love now and never will be then at least she can have lust. It will never be enough, but it feels like it could be for now and she just wants to enjoy this as long as it lasts. Her eyes slip closed as she lets the savior's name slide from between her lips.
"Emma..."
And that's what breaks the spell. Reality seems to come crashing back to Emma all at once and she rips herself away with a string of curse words and "Oh God" and a repetitive stream of apologies.
The violet and blue clouds fade, and she thinks Emma didn't even notice they were there. Unless they were her imagination?
She blinks, trying to get things to come into focus through the fog of desire, and she pushes herself up. "What?"
"God, what the hell am I doing." Emma doesn't just back up -- she scrambles to her feet, eyes vacant and mouth agape.
Regina just stares, her arms feeble from whatever has just happened, and she struggles to get to her feet. "Wait..."
"No. God, this is all my fault." She looks up, her eyes wide. "Regina, I am so sorry."
Her stomach drops, though there's a part of her that expected such an outcome. All she can think to say is, "Please stay. Let's talk about this."
Emma shakes her head, her blonde hair in tangles, and Regina just realizes now that she'd had her hands stuffed in it and rumpling it during their kiss.
"I can't, I..." She's breathless, and her face and chest are flushed. She meets her eyes and her expression is shuttered, a far-off look in her eyes. She's in fight-or-flight mode, and the Emma Swan she's grown accustomed to always errs on the side of a fight. "I have to go."
Though not this time, apparently.
And she's gone before Regina can gather enough strength to react. Then she's left staring at an empty den -- at the chess game half-finished and the wine bottle with just enough left to fill another void. Regina grabs it by the neck and takes a gulp, damning her masochistic side.
One of the records Emma purchased is still spinning, that hauntingly seductive melody still flowing through the speakers. She walks over to it and looks down at the record, flicking the needle from it just hard enough to scratch.
Then she leaves it all behind -- the open pizza box, the chess game, the albums scattered about and the turned-over shot glasses. None matter in that moment. The neck of the wine bottle dangles between her fingertips as she ascends the staircase slowly, methodically, each step replaying a moment downstairs.
Three steps up and they're levitating, holding on to one another with peaceful smiles. Two more and Emma's staring at her lips; another three and she's on her back seeing swirls of violet and blue magic surrounding them.
She gets into bed without changing her clothes and rolls onto her side. She stares at the empty side that Emma occupied little more than twelve hours before. Then she guzzles the rest of the wine and waits for sleep to take her away.
TBC
{x-posted to onceupon_fanfic and regina_emma}