"Do you know where my red tie ended up?"

"Which one? The striped one or the solid one?"

"Solid."

"Oh. There was a coffee stain on that. I washed it for you and hung it to dry on the rack."

"Ah. Thank you."

Tom's large hand pats her softly on the back as he passes her, his shirt untucked and his hair disheveled in his usual morning flounder to prepare for work. Trina reaches for his favourite thermos from the cupboard and fills it up with coffee and two spoonfuls of sugar, just the way he likes it, and sets it on the island next to his half-eaten bagel and briefcase.

Sometimes, when they're domestic and exchanging soft smiles, it's easy to forget that their life together is nearly at an end. To forget that they're getting a divorce.

A honk sounds from outside the house and Trina glances at the window, spying Jerry's green car outside.

"Tom, Jerry's here."

"Comin', I'm comin'," he says, struggling momentarily with his coat as he appears from the hallway. His tie is askew and she automatically reaches out to fix it, pulling his collar down over it and smoothing down the lapels of his coat. He pauses as she does, her hands flat on his chest, and after a moment he gives an awkward smile and gently pats her hands until she slides away again.

"Coffee," she says, as if to remind him that she has still done what she always does whenever he leaves for work. He leans towards her before jerking himself towards the island to grab his briefcase, as if almost forgetting that he doesn't kiss her goodbye anymore.

"Right. Thanks, Treen."

She nods, watches him stick the remainder of his bagel in his mouth and grab his briefcase and thermos before moving to the door. She pulls it open for him and he clamps his thermos under his arm so that he can grab his travel suitcase, carrying everything out the door in his goofy, haphazard way.

He's halfway down the path before he pauses, turning to glance back at her with a soft gaze.

"Have a safe flight," she says with an equally soft smile. He tips his head and hurries the rest of the way to the car, greeting his coworker with a grunt as he tosses his things in the back and gets in. Jerry waves a quick goodbye to Trina, his expression uncertain, before they drive off and leave Trina leaning in the doorway, quiet. It seems he's already heard of their impending divorce, Trina thinks with a sigh. The downside to living in a small town.

There's a little shriek of delight from across the street, drawing Trina's attention to the Swan household where Henry streaks across the yard in nothing but his underwear. Laughter bubbles up from her chest at the precious sight, and though she and Graham still have problems with each other, she can't help but be amused as she watches the man dive after the child with a disgruntled groan.

"Henry, get back here!" he sighs, clearly regretting his decision to open the front door to grab the morning paper. Henry had taken the chance to flee the house, evidently, gleeful as he skips across the yard in his near-nakedness. Shaking her head slightly, Trina starts off down her own yard and to the Swan household before Henry can spot her and try running across the street.

"Mommy!" he squeals, delighted. Trina hops up onto the curb and ducks down to catch him as he leaps at her, all pudgy limbs and cute rubber ducky underwear. He laughs into her shirt and she readjusts him in her arms, balancing his weight on her hip as he clings to her like a little monkey.

"Good morning, darling," she murmurs, pressing kisses into his hair and ear until he's giggling and squirming in her arms. Graham straightens, frowning slightly at her as he approaches.

"Trina," he greets stiffly.

"Huntsman," she says just as coolly in return. The old title has the man hunching down somewhat, his gaze dropping, reminded of the days when Regina would turn her nose up at him, all haughty and jealous, never quite comfortable with the rugged man who was considered a dear friend to Emma.

"Mommy, come play with me?" Henry asks sweetly, his lower lip already jutting out in a pleading pout. Trina smiles but shakes her head, kissing the tip of his nose in apology.

"Not yet, Henry. You remember what your Mama told you?"

He huffs but nods. "Gots ta wait. Grace gonna bring me over next week?"

"Right you are, my darling." She kisses him again, nuzzling her face against his and feeling him press a sticky kiss to her cheek, before grudgingly passing her son over to Graham's waiting arms. The man just nods jerkily at her before turning around and heading back into the house.

"Uncle Gwaham," Henry says almost scoldingly. Graham pauses, sucking on his teeth before tilting his head in Trina's direction.

"Emma would like it if you joined her at the station for her lunch break."

The door thuds shut and Trina plods back across the street and up her lawn, flushed with delight at the idea of a lunch date. First and foremost, however, she has a call to make. Moving into the living room, she grabs the notepad where she'd scrawled down a number and quickly dials it in, automatically coiling the wire around her finger as she waits. It rings for a long few moments before the person she's waiting for picks up.

"Good morning. This is Trina Decker calling..."

"Mrs. Deck— ah, Ms. Miller," he corrects himself quickly, and Trina feels a flush of relief at hearing her maiden surname again. "Yes, good morning. I assume you are calling about your papers?"

"Yes. Are they...?"

"All processed. I made sure to expedite it for you. You are now legally divorced, ma'am."

A solid weight lifts from her chest at the news of her release, her newfound freedom to make her life right again with her wife and son. The sorrow of ending her relationship with Tom is a more muted weight, an unavoidable ache that she will carry with her for the rest of her life, but one she can never regret. Not when she knows that the warmth and love in Emma and Henry's smiles will be worth every moment.

"Thank you," Trina murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as she cradles the phone to her ear. She exchanges a few more brief pleasantries with her lawyer before bidding him a good day, slumping back against the couch with a slow exhale. That's it. It's over. After a week of biting her nails and waiting on the divorce papers to go through, she can finally focus on getting her old life back.

The promise of a lunch date gives her the energy to bounce off the couch and hurry to her bedroom, spending the next few hours primping and perusing outfit combinations before she finally settles on a flowy cobalt sundress, the blue vibrant against sun-kissed skin. Her hair is fluffed, her makeup light, and her jewelry limited to a single hanging necklace that draws attention to the hint of cleavage at the teasing V of her neckline. Grabbing her keys, she hops into her car and drives down the now familiar route to the station, sliding into the spot next to Emma's beloved sunshine-yellow Volkswagen and all but skipping in through the main doors.

"Good afternoon," Belle chirps from the desk, smiling softly at Trina's obvious glow. The woman is happier than she's seen her in years, light and carefree in a way she hasn't been around Tom. There's something about Emma that brings out a whole new side to her friend, and as much as she does care about Tom, she cannot deny anything that seems to breathe life anew into Trina.

"Hi, Belle," Trina greets, leaning across the front desk to press a friendly kiss to the other brunette's cheek. "I'm here to have lunch with Emma."

"I figured as much. You never come all the way down here just for little ol' me," Belle teases, winking a blue eye as Trina slips past her and heads through the bullpen, cobalt dress fluttering cheerily around her calves with each peppy step.

"Hey Treen," Ruby calls from her desk, offering a hesitant smile that quickly grows as Trina changes direction and heads straight for her, arms open. Standing, the taller brunette happily accepts the hug, squeezing Trina firmly with a hum.

"I've missed you," Trina offers, hands still clasping Ruby's elbows when they pull back a little. She and Ruby have grown somewhat distant during the love-triangle-debacle, Ruby having taken Emma's side and avoided her in solidarity. It feels like it's been weeks since they've even really spoken.

"Missed you too, you vixen," Ruby chuckles, pressing a kiss to Trina's forehead. The shorter woman grins, russet eyes gleaming.

"We have to get together again sometime. All four of us! I miss you and Belle."

When Ruby wiggles an eyebrow, Trina gives a dirty chuckle.

"Not like that, you hound dog," she teases, voice full of mirth. "Emma's made an honest woman out of me."

"Well, that's a right shame. What Belle and I wouldn't do to have beauties like you and Emma in our bed!"

Trina slaps her on the chest and Ruby bursts out in laughter, dropping back down into her desk chair as Lily shuffles by and gives them both a reproving look.

"You know the bullpen isn't a public space, right, Decker?"

"It's Miller again, actually," Trina says without missing a beat, taking delight in the look of startled shock on Lily's face. "And I've a lunch date with the Chief."

"Trina," Emma's voice rings out across the bullpen just in time, sending Lily stalking off with a roll of her eyes. Trina turns, dress swirling around her legs, and both brown and green eyes brighten immeasurably at the sight of each other.

"Emma," Trina murmurs, a dreamy smile spilling across her features as she moves towards the Chief, oblivious to Ruby's amused snickers. "Hey."

"Hey." Emma grins stupidly, blind to everyone and everything but Trina. The cobalt blue dress pops against golden-olive skin and the pendant hanging between Trina's breasts reminds her of soft, intimately familiar curves hidden just beneath the fabric.

"You look beautiful."

"You look quite sharp yourself, Chief Swan," Trina purrs, hands lifting to tug at the crisp collar of Emma's dress shirt, her smirk widening at the quiet "get a room" from somewhere behind them.

"I take it you came for that lunch date?" Emma asks somewhat shyly, her head dipping. Trina grins and nods, delighted when Emma promptly offers her arm. "Well then, shall we?"

Emma drives them to Granny's Diner in the Volkswagen, figuring something casual and fun would be a good first choice. The place is quiet as they just missed the lunch rush, slipping into a booth by a window and getting prompt service from Eugenia Lucas - Granny herself.

"Chief," the greying woman greets, her approving smile waning at the sight of who she dines with. There's a knowing look in her eyes, and though both women are wary, they're also unsurprised. Winnetka's a small town and nothing is ever a secret. "Mrs. Decker."

"Miss Miller, actually," Trina says for the second time that day, trying not to smile too widely when Emma perks up across the table. "The paperwork just went through today."

"So it's true then," Eugenia sniffs as Trina turns stiff and tense in her seat. "You divorced poor Tom after all that swinging nonsense finally went south."

"Mrs. Lucas," Emma says in a quiet warning, frowning as the elder woman turns squinting, judgemental eyes on her. "Miss Miller's personal life is her own business."

"It would be if it didn't affect other people. She's not good company for you, Chief, just like she's been a bad influence in my Ruby's life."

"I've done nothing to Ruby," Trina says sharply, her hackles rising. "She and Belle are consenting adults and I care about them as my friends."

"I hope you aren't also insinuating anything about Ruby's preferences," Emma adds lowly, "because as Chief of Police, I will not tolerate such bigotry in my town."

"I've come to terms with Ruby's lifestyle," Eugenia defends, "But you're better than this, Chief," she says, a hand flailing in Trina's direction. The brunette glares, her entire body tense as if wanting to lash out, but there's something hurt and uncertain in the way she clutches at the table and purses her lips, refraining from saying anything at all.

"That's quite enough, I think," Emma says, jumping out of the booth so suddenly that Eugenia is forced to stumble back a few steps. She holds out a hand to Trina and Trina gratefully accepts the tug out of her seat. "I won't be coming here again if you insist on being hateful to people I care about, Mrs. Lucas. Frankly, I'd check my attitude and consider a heartfelt apology if I were you; it's not smart to make an enemy of the Chief of Police. Come along, Miss Miller."

Emma strides purposefully from the diner with Trina in tow, ignoring the flabbergasted look on Eugenia's face on the way out. It's only when they're back at the Volkswagen around the corner that Emma stops, shoulders slumping as a long sigh escapes her lips.

"I'm sorry," she says with a puff of unhappy laughter. "That wasn't what I had in mind when I invited you out."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Trina offers, sliding into Emma's space and wrapping her arms around the blonde's trim waist, smiling as the loose embrace is returned. "Eugenia's never been my biggest fan. Her generation... well, a lot of people don't approve of my lifestyle."

When Emma blinks down at her, she quickly corrects, "My old lifestyle. I don't do that anymore."

A small, uncertain smile is her answer. "That's... It's been a part of your life for a long time, Trina. I don't want to make you give up any part of your life just because—"

"Emma," Trina interrupts, pressing a finger to the blonde's lips. "I don't need to do that anymore, not when I have you."

Green eyes softening, Emma gently kisses the finger pressed to her lips. "Is that enough?" she mumbles, uncertainty in her gaze even as she tries her best to be understanding. Trina aches at the thought that Emma would willingly suffer a lifestyle she doesn't want just to make her happy.

"You are enough," Trina says firmly, her finger sliding from Emma's lips to stroke her cheek. "You and Henry are all I want."

She leans in, rising up on tiptoes in the strappy white sandals she'd chosen for the day so that she can press a kiss squarely to Emma's mouth, not caring a whit about anyone who sees them standing right there in the parking lot in front of the diner. Melting in place, Emma wraps her arms more firmly around Trina's body and allows a persistent tongue entrance into her mouth, moaning softly as nails gently scratch at her scalp. They remain locked in place for a good long moment before reluctantly parting for air, Emma looking dazed and dreamy as Trina pins her with a smug smile.

"You're also immensely sexy when you defend me," the brunette purrs, which gets a startled laugh out of Emma.

"Duly noted. Now, since Granny's is out... How about we head back to your place and I make us lunch instead?"

"You can cook?" Trina asks, quirking a brow.

"Are you as terrible a cook as Regina was?" Emma retorts, to which Trina rolls her eyes good naturedly and beams at the effort Emma makes to respect her identity. Regina never had reason to pick up the skill, and though Trina's baking skills have finally reached a point where it's not a fire hazard, she's still a terror at cooking.

"Fair enough. Lead the way, dear."

Dating is an endeavor. They're good together, easy and natural in a way that no one else could ever be because only they have a shared past from another life, another world. But as Trina had said, this world isn't as open and accepting of swingers and non-heterosexuals, and Trina is well known to be both in a small town where people gossip and nothing is sacred. Emma's shining reputation as the beloved Chief of Police is somewhat tarnished as Winnetka's little population become aware of her budding relationship with the newly divorced resident swinger, but Emma insists she cares very little for what the town thinks and is always quick to correct anyone with an untoward opinion. Their friends support them wholeheartedly, though a few like Lily and Graham cannot help but watch them with looks of wary disquiet, as if forever waiting for the other shoe to drop.

As the weeks pass and they settle into a comfortable rhythm, Emma is the one to grow restless with yearning. Trina's been nothing but respectful of her request to go slow, but the woman also oozes sensuality in everything she does, and it's hard to resist throwing herself atop that deliciously familiar body every time Trina sways her hips or gives her that long, half-lidded smile.

"We should go somewhere," Emma blurts out one afternoon, splayed out on a sun lounger next to the Decker house pool while Trina bobs happily in the water nearby. Tom is on another one of his week-long flights to Tokyo and they'd taken advantage of the beautiful weather to get some sunlight and fresh air. Nearby on the grass, Henry sits in swim trunks, his hair wet from his earlier swim, playing with a multitude of plastic dinosaurs.

"Oh?" Floating towards her girlfriend and pushing Henry's discarded float-wings out of the way, Trina folds her arms atop the concrete edge and rests her chin on them, dark wet hair slicked back and dripping water. Emma watches each rivulet trickling down the side of Trina's neck with a dry swallow of her throat. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, I'm not sure," Emma admits, sitting up and feeling the new tightness of her skin from laying in the sun for an hour. She's starting to tan a light gold and Trina clearly likes it if the slow wandering of her gaze is any indication. "I just think it might be nice if we got away for a little while, just you and me. Belle and Ruby would love to babysit Henry and Graham can take care of the house alone for a long weekend..."

"Mmm." Setting her hands flat on the concrete, Trina pushed herself up and over the edge, stomach muscles clenching as she rises from the water and pads over to the loungers, water dripping freely from her body. Green eyes are glued to the little black and white bikini until Trina is looming over her, bending down to kiss her sweetly. "Tom and I own a lakeside cabin just a few hours out of town, we could go there for a weekend."

"Would he be okay with that?" Brow pinching, Emma gives her girlfriend a concerned look. Tom and Graham have kept up their bromance-friendship, but Emma has generally kept a polite distance from the man, not wanting to step on his toes any more than she already has, even if he does make a valiant effort to smile and nod every time they cross paths.

"Sweetheart, you're sitting on his lounger, in his yard, at his house," Trina says, smiling sympathetically when Emma looks like she wants to jump out of the chair with guilt. "He's a big boy, he won't begrudge us going to the cabin. He understands that my future is with you. Besides, the cabin is under my name."

"I just don't want to upset him further," Emma sighs, slumping in her seat. "I already stole his wife."

"Do I look like a possession?" Trina asks, one eyebrow lifting in amusement and not annoyance. Still, Emma backpedals, immediately looking sorry.

"No! I didn't mean—"

"Honey, you didn't steal me from anyone. I chose to leave him, just as I chose to be with you. Got it?"

Trina kisses her again, hard and possessive, and then cheerfully sashays off to go play with Henry, leaving a dazed and doe-eyed Emma sprawled out on the lounger.

Their cabin retreat happens just two weeks later. Graham sighs and grumbles and shrugs his shoulders when he's told he'll be home alone for the long weekend, and Tom is passive in his response, his hurt only noticeable to Trina who knows him well after a decade of marriage. Still, he smiles and hugs her and tells her to enjoy the trip, and she is forever thankful to still have him for a best friend.

Belle and Ruby are delighted when asked to babysit Henry for the weekend, and though Henry had thrown a tantrum at being left behind, he'd eventually relented and gave them his blessing, grudging as it was.

"Have fun, Mommies," he'd said when they'd dropped him off at Belle and Ruby's condo, each giving him a kiss. Burrowed into Trina's arms with his head tucked under her chin, they'd looked like the perfect picture of a mother and child, and Emma had shed a tear before catching herself. He'd been the happiest child alive when they'd finally sat him down to give a watered down explanation of their situation to him, and though their friends all continue to look surprised - thinking that the child had simply imprinted upon a new potential mother-figure in his life - Emma has no regrets. Her wife and son are reunited, and that's all that matters.

"It's crazy how much he looks like her," Ruby had murmured, watching them from the doorway while Belle chatted with Trina about the trip. "I mean, I guess it makes sense since Trina is a gorgeous Latina and looks similar to your late wife, but still."

"Yeah, crazy," Emma had agreed, and said no more.

The cabin is stunning. Acres of grassy, golden land all to themselves, flanked by green woods on one side and sand on the other, leading out onto an old wooden dock extending a ways over the lake. The Bug pulls onto the gravel driveway next to the cabin just after noon, Emma's eyes wide and intrigued as Trina watches her reaction with a smile.

"Wow," Emma says, slowly sliding out of the car. Trina hops out, already retrieving their bags from the boot and moving towards the front door, hips swaying as she glances over her shoulder.

"Coming?" she purrs, to which Emma jerks to attention and scampers after her like an eager puppy. "Get the keys for me, would you? It's in my right pocket."

Trina pauses by the door, smirking as Emma dips her fingers into the front right pocket of her jean shorts, fingers wiggling against her hip. When Emma comes up short, Trina feigns a pout.

"Oops. I mean my back pocket."

Emma grins, leaning in close to slide her hand down Trina's ass pocket instead, stroking the perfect globe for a moment before coming back up with the keys. "Found 'em."

She slides around Trina, unlocking the door and popping it open before helping the brunette carry their bags inside. The air is warm and a little stale, and she's quick to open all the windows to air it out while Trina moves their things into the bedroom. As soon as Trina returns to the main room, however, she's immediately swept up into Emma's arms and drawn into a long, deep kiss, the brunette humming happily as hands slowly slide down to cup her ass.

"Well, hello to you too," she teases softly, nipping at a pink lower lip when they come apart for air. Emma's pupils are large, almost eclipsing green as she stares down hungrily at Trina's smile. "You know, it's very hard to go slow when you look at me like that, darling..."

"Maybe I'm done going slow," Emma rumbles out, her chest heaving with deep breaths as her arms tighten around Trina's waist. "I miss the taste and feel of you. I want..."

"You want...?" Trina coaxes, her voice deepening with desire as she brushes their noses together. Emma's eyes flutter shut and she inhales deeply, jaw clenched, her entire body humming with anticipation.

"I want you, all of you," Emma husks, a soft plea. Trina groans, heat igniting low in her belly.

"Then take me," she murmurs. "I'm yours."

Those hands on her ass grab her under her thighs and lift her with ease, and she's suddenly being carried across the living room and into the bedroom, dropping softly onto the bed with Emma's welcome weight atop her. Fumbling with eager anticipation, they tug and pull at each other's clothing, the effort coming to a halting stop when Emma's hand finds its way into Trina's shorts and fingers caress an already swollen clit. Jerking up against the touch, Trina moans and pulls Emma down by the back of her neck, kissing her hard as those fingers rub insistently at her, demanding her first orgasm of the day. Already she can feel herself grow slick and slippery, Emma's fingers sliding effortlessly against her. Hips lifting from the bed, she grinds up against the pressure of Emma's hand with a soft whine for more, tilting her head up to gasp when those fingers dip lower and sheathe themselves within her in one sure stroke.

"Oh, yes," she hisses, fingertips digging into Emma's shoulders, urging her onwards. With her palm grinding against Trina's clit, Emma thrusts into her, her wrist aching at the awkward angle of having her hand confined in pants. It's all worth it when Trina chokes out a cry a moment later, jerking her hips up and grabbing onto Emma's wrist at the same time, refusing to let go until Emma has fingered her through her entire orgasm and into a second one. Trembling, she eventually falls limp, hands falling to the side as her stomach muscles twitch. Emma pumps her fingers a few more times for good measure, watching the way Trina shivers and whimpers, before gently extracting her hand and licking her own fingers clean.

"You've ruined my panties," Trina accuses, eyes narrowing playfully at the smug look on Emma's face. "Can you help me undress now, or are you still unable to control yourself?"

"I'm satisfied - for now." Still, she leans down to press an apologetic kiss to the brunette's lips before helping her wiggle out of her now damp shorts and absolutely soaked panties, delighting in the wet arousal coating the scrap of fabric. Trina clicks her tongue in disapproval and Emma just grins before tossing it somewhere across the room, peeling off her own clothes and then sliding in next to her lover with a contented sigh.

"Mm, roll over," Trina says, chuckling when Emma drapes over her and kisses at her collarbones. "Em-ma."

"Missed this," Emma mumbles, tongue laving at Trina's chest, teeth nipping at soft olive skin. Before she knows what's happening, she's suddenly thrown sideways and lands on her back, a weight settling on her hips.

"I don't think so," Trina says fiercely, her smoldering gaze so intense that Emma goes weak with desire beneath her. "It's long past my turn. You didn't let me reciprocate last time."

"But—"

Emma reaches needily for her and Trina pins her wrists down, smiling a wicked smile. "No. Now spread your legs, Miss Swan."

Moaning, Emma's thighs fall apart, her stomach clenching at the sight of Trina crawling down her body, a tongue peeking out to lick at red lips. She settles down on her stomach, arms curling around Emma's thighs as she kisses her abdomen, then the soft patch of blonde curls between Emma's legs. The scent of arousal is heady and strong from here, Emma's folds slick with desire, and Trina wastes no time taking her first taste of her lover, moaning softly against warm flesh.

"You taste even better than in my dreams," she husks, and Emma parts her lips in curiosity but promptly succumbs to a sigh of pleasure instead as that talented mouth descends on her in earnest, licking and sucking and teasing her to the precipice as if they've done this a million times before.

Emma isn't at all surprised when she comes minutes later with a choked cry, her hips jerking forward against Trina's face. She's still twitching and pulsing with desire when Trina pushes her back down and swiftly enters her with a finger, coaxing another delicious moan from her lips.

"T-Trina," she stutters, eyes squeezed shut as she instinctively clenches down on the single digit. "More. Please. Another."

Happily obliging, Trina wiggles another finger into her lover, leaning back down to suck a swollen clit into her mouth, tongue swirling teasingly around it as she pumps, slow at first, faster and harder as Emma ruts against her. Emma's head is thrown back, cords visible against her throat and golden hair splayed across the pillow. Her chest is thrust up, spine arched and thighs tensing over Trina's shoulders, and Trina can't resist reaching up with her free hand to squeeze and fondle a breast, a pink nipple growing painfully hard and erect against her palm.

"Gods, yes," Emma pants, rocking her hips along to their frantic rhythm, her skin already glistening with sweat. That familiar tightness is building up to an almost painful crescendo within her core and she can only clutch desperately at the now-damp sheets beneath them, knuckles turning white with the effort. One hand releases the sheets to burrow fingers into dark hair, holding Trina firmly between her legs as her insides tremble, moments away from shattering.

"Trina," she whimpers, desperate.

"Come for me, my love," Trina purrs against slick flesh.

Emma comes with a sharp cry, trembling legs tightening around Trina's head for a long moment as she's coaxed through her second orgasm before falling limp to the bed, twitching with each soft lick of Trina's tongue. The brunette is thorough in cleaning up every last drop of arousal before crawling back up the bed, snuggling in against Emma's side and pressing a kiss to her jawline. The blonde surprises her by curling in against her chest, face buried in the crook of her shoulder.

"Darling?" Trina murmurs, running her fingers through blonde waves. The warm wetness against her collarbone alerts her to the fact that Emma is crying. "Emma, sweetheart..."

"I'm sorry," Emma whispers roughly, lifting her head just enough to swipe at her tears. She doesn't want to cry, doesn't want to admit that yes she knows this is Trina but it's been so long since she's let anyone touch her and she can't help but see Regina right now, the same face and the same eyes and the same voice that moans her name. It's all too much in this moment, all too overwhelming, and she trembles and curls up tighter, swept up in a storm of guilt and mourning.

"Don't be sorry," Trina soothes, holding her close and letting Emma's tears drip down against her neck. One arm wraps securely around her body while the other hand gently combs through blonde hair, fingertips trailing along her scalp in a calming manner. She knows why her lover weeps, and somewhere deep inside, she instinctively knows how to respond. "I'm right here, my love. Trina, Regina. We're right here."

The trembling body sinks fully into her embrace, letting go at last, and Trina feels a sort of peaceful acceptance settle within her chest as their bodies fit together like two halves of a whole.

They're quiet when they eventually get out of bed, moving around each other with soft smiles and softer eyes. Emma unpacks groceries and Trina gets the fireplace ready for nightfall, retrieving quilted blankets from storage bins in the corner and pulling the white cloths off of the big, cozy looking couches. The cabin is quite spacious, all warm colors and dark wood, and the last rays of sunlight coming in through the open windows highlight a flurry of dust motes swirling lazily through the air. Emma is already preparing a light lunch in the kitchen when Trina finally rejoins her, hugging the taller woman from behind and peering over her shoulder as she works.

"Smells great," Trina says softly, lips pressing to the back of Emma's bare shoulder. The blonde is in a tight tanktop and jeans, her feet bare against the warm hardwood flooring and toes wiggling happily.

"Tacos," Emma offers over her shoulder with a sweet smile, eyes crinkling. "I hope you like it spicy."

They enjoy lunch at the kitchen island, leaning against each other with light conversation, Trina sneaking squirts of hot sauce into Emma's tacos and laughing when the blonde turns red, coughing and spluttering because Okay, I get it, you have a higher tolerance - I'm white, bite me! (And Trina does bite her, of course, which only leads to another bout of kissing and fondling.)

They wash the dishes together, soap suds flying between them, and spend most of the afternoon curled up on the couch with a book, Trina reading and Emma bobbing her head along gently to the brunette's soothing tones. The world moves at a much more leisurely pace out here when it's just the two of them, quiet and relaxed, with nothing but the gentle splash of ducks in the lake and the chirp of birds in the trees surrounding them.

As afternoon slowly turns to evening, Emma decides to make a simple spaghetti bolognese. Or rather, she decides to teach Trina how to make spaghetti bolognese, which really just turns the entire endeavor into a game of teasing touches and not-so-accidentally smearing sauce on each other as an excuse to lick it off. With the sauce finally on a low simmer and the pasta cooling in a colander, Emma leans against the counter with a lazy grin, wiping her hands off on a dish towel and then basketball-tossing it into the sink.

"And now you know how to make a staple pasta dish," she says cheerfully, grin widening as Trina pins her against the counter with her own hips, arms encircling her shoulders. The slightly shorter woman's eyes are dark, eyelids at half mast in a come-hither expression that sends a skitter of excitement up Emma's spine. "You're... a very good student."

"And you're an excellent teacher." Leaning up, Trina nibbles at a soft lower lip, her chest warming at the happy little hum it causes. Gripping Emma by the hips, she gives the woman a slight push against the counter's edge. "Up, dear."

Obeying without question, Emma hops up onto the countertop, opening her mouth willingly to a plundering tongue as Trina nestles herself between her thighs and pulls her in. Trina's hands slide down, popping the button on Emma's jeans before tugging demandingly on them. She pulls back with a smirk to admire the bulge of Emma's biceps as she lifts her ass from the counter long enough for Trina to pull her jeans and panties all the way down, abandoning them somewhere on the kitchen floor. With them out of the way, Trina lifts long legs over her shoulders, happily settling herself between the blonde's soft thighs.

"I hope you don't mind," the brunette purrs, hands sliding up the muscular plane of Emma's washboard abs, disappearing beneath tanktop and bra to fondle at small, pert breasts. "I do so love having dessert before dinner."

Emma laughs, a laugh that turns into a choked little sound when a warm and wet tongue prods at her entrance. Gripping the edge of the counter, Emma groans, staring down dazedly at the brunette head bobbing softly between her legs. That wicked tongue teases at her, prodding here and there, grazing her clit before returning to her entrance, pushing in just a little deeper each time, never staying long enough where she wants it.

"Trina," she huffs, hips twitching, seeking more contact. Trina chuckles, a low and dirty sound that vibrates against wet flesh, and Emma gives a little yelp and instinctively thrusts forward against the stimulus, nearly tipping off the counter if not for Trina's shoulders keeping her thighs up. "Babe, please..."

She outright whines when Trina lifts her head to lift a brow at her, lips glistening with arousal.

"Oh, god..."

"Babe?" Trina repeats, amusement gleaming in her eyes. She tugs on a pink nipple and Emma jumps, chest pushing up into fondling hands.

"Sweetheart?" Emma tries pitifully, feeling herself clench around nothingness and craving a tongue or fingers. "Honey? Darling?"

"Mm, keep trying."

"Trina..." Emma whimpers, hooking a hand around the back of Trina's neck to pull her close and kiss her hard, moaning into a hot mouth as the brunette squeezes and fondles her breasts a little harder. Panting, she pulls back just a little, green eyes fluttering open to meet russet brown. The warmth in them is too easy to drown in, all tender love and awe-inspiring devotion, playfulness and smug happiness. They're the exact same eyes she'd stumbled across at the edge of a forest, the same eyes she'd stared into as they'd shyly made love for the first time, the same eyes that smiled back at her on their wedding day.

"Love of my life," Emma murmurs, lips caressing Trina's with the words. Trina broaches the remaining distance and kisses her again, soft and tender this time, just lips sliding against lips. Their fiery passion turns into a slow simmer, in no rush as they press together and brush kisses along lips, jaws, noses, eyelids. Trina slides a hand between them, two fingers slipping into her lover, and Emma moans hotly into her mouth, spine arching as she's filled.

"Mine," Trina whispers, hips rocking along to each gentle thrust, and Emma wraps her legs around Trina's waist and tightens her arms around Trina's shoulders with breathy little sighs of pleasure, her heart nearly full to bursting.

"Yours," she agrees, moments before she comes all over Trina's pumping fingers with a shudder, slumping into her lover's arms and smiling as damp hair is brushed from her forehead.

They clean up and redress for dinner, indulging in a playful game of footsie as they eat at the humble little dining table by the window. The brunette is adamant about taking care of the dishes herself, insisting Emma relax and watch some television, so the blonde relents with a laugh, grabbing a beer from the fridge on her way out, as well as a couple brownie squares from one of the many Tupperware containers they'd brought with them for the weekend.

When Trina finally emerges in the living room with a glass of wine for herself, Emma is sprawled out sideways on the couch, head stretched out over the armrest to peer at her with big eyes.

"Hi," Emma whispers.

"Darling," Trina says, bemused. "Why are you whispering?"

Green eyes blink slowly at her. "You're so pretty." An arm lifts up, hand reaching out in her direction, fingers wiggling. "C'mere."

Rounding the couch, Trina sets her wine glass down on the coffee table and perches on the edge of the couch, a hand rubbing at Emma's hip as the blonde happily grabs onto her fingers.

"Are you alright?" Trina questions, amused but baffled at the blonde's somewhat dazed state. When Emma just hums and pulls her hand closer to kiss at her knuckles, she leans in to take note of dilated pupils. "Emma?"

"Those brownies might be expired," Emma says conversationally, still kissing and playing with Trina's hand. "I feel funny."

"Oh, sweetheart," Trina can't help but laugh. Of course Emma helped herself to a treat. "Those are pot brownies. I was going to share them with you a little later. How many did you have?"

"Mmm. Three? They tasted good though!"

That's more than she would have suggested if Emma had never tried edibles before, but her lover seems fine at the half hour mark so far.

"How do you feel?"

Emma scrunches her face and sets a hand on her stomach. "Buzzy."

Smiling fondly, Trina brushes a strand of golden hair from the other woman's forehead, tucking it behind her ear as Emma leans into the touch. "Anything else?"

"Heart's beating harder..." Emma blinks, then grins up at her. "But it always does that around you."

"Flatterer." Leaning down, Trina presses an affectionate kiss to Emma's forehead. "My high, silly darling. Maybe you should sleep it off."

"No! I'm fine. Don't gooo." Emma whines softly, clutching Trina's hand to her chest as the older woman watches her in amusement. "I wanna do something with you. Let's..."

Green eyes search the cabin's main room desperately before landing on a pack of cards on a side table.

"Let's play poker!"

Glancing at the cards, Trina lifts a brow and chuckles. "Poker?"

Emma's grin turns feral. "Strip poker."

And that's how Emma ends up perched on the couch in nothing but her underwear, with Trina fully dressed and sitting regally on the armchair like it's a throne, smirk in place and eyes gleefully roaming her lover's exposed body.

"If we had chips, I'd raise," Trina says, tapping her downturned cards against her thigh. Emma, still high as a kite, narrows her eyes dramatically.

"You're bluffing."

Leaning forward and purposefully squeezing her breasts between her arms so that Emma's gaze zeroes in on them, Trina smirks. "Then show me your cards."

Tilting her chin up, Emma tosses her cards face-up onto the table. "Two Pair."

Trina tosses her cards down. "Three of a kind. Bra, please."

"You have to be cheating!" Emma whines, sitting back with a groan. "How have you won every single round?"

"Not true," Trina reminds her, amused. "I took off my cardigan. Now if you would be so kind..."

She gestures at Emma's breasts with a lick of her lips and Emma huffs, snapping off her bra and tossing it across the table. Trina catches it with a victorious grin.

"All in?" Trina asks, snatching up all the cards and shuffling them skillfully atop the table in plain view. Emma scrutinizes her anyway, lower lip jutted out into a pout and her forehead scrunched.

"Well, seeing as I have nothing left except my panties... Yeah, all in."

"Excellent. I do so love it when the stakes are high." Trina holds out the stack of cards, letting Emma cut the deck, then sets five face-down on the table and doles out two cards each. Her poker face is absolutely unreadable when she glances at her own cards, then motions at Emma. Reaching over, Emma flips the first three cards on the table, then compares them with her own hand.

"I hope you're ready to strip," Emma purrs, her lips spreading into a gleeful smile.

"Someone's confident in their hand," Trina notes, motioning at the table again. "I'll raise you a strip-tease."

Emma flips the fourth card over to reveal a red Ten of hearts. "Ooh. Even better. I'll raise you a lap dance."

"Deal." Trina gives an impatient flick of her hand. Emma flips over the last of the cards on the table. A red King of hearts. "Sure you don't want to fold, dear?"

"And miss out on a naked lap dance from you? Not in this world or any other, my Queen." Emma tosses her hand face-up onto the table, grinning victoriously at the abundance of red hearts among all the cards, as well as the pretty blush on Trina's cheeks. "Flush."

Despite her momentary fluster at Emma's term of endearment—and she won't lie, 'my Queen' is one she'll gladly steal from Regina—Trina's smug smirk is still firmly in place when she leans forward, tossing her cards face-up onto the table.

A red Ace of hearts and a red Queen of hearts.

"Royal Flush."

Emma looks immediately sober, green eyes zeroed in on the cards in disbelief. Her mouth is agape, eyes flickering between the cards and Trina, silent for a very long moment before finally—

"A Royal Flush. Of-fucking-course." She puffs out a laugh before groaning into her hands, appalled at her poor luck. And here she thought she was good at Texas Hold 'em. Maybe her coworkers were just shit at poker and falsely boosted her confidence.

"I believe I'm owed a naked lap dance," Trina purrs, sitting back in her armchair with her fingers steepled together, the most smug grin plastered on her face. Emma parts her fingers to peer at her through the gaps, sheepish.

"I... don't actually know how to do a lap dance."

"Then I suppose you'll have to find another way to pay up, dear..." Trina lifts a hand, beckons her closer with a crook of her finger, and Emma is drawn immediately, sliding from the couch onto her knees to crawl the short distance to the armchair where her lover resides like royalty.

"These can go," Trina purrs, uncrossing her legs to brush against Emma's panties with painted toes. The blonde puffs out a breathless laugh, shimmying her panties off and then sitting back on her heels, staring up devotedly at her, chest heaving with anticipation.

"What can I do to... make it up to you?" Emma leans closer, hands ghosting their way up shapely calves, up over Trina's knees and then inching their way up her thighs. The brunette leans back, legs parting, arms still braced along the armrests like she's sitting on a throne.

"You could put that pretty mouth of yours to work," she suggests coyly, eyes lidded, as Emma's hands disappear beneath the hem of her summer dress to remove her underwear... only to realize that Trina isn't wearing any.

"Oh," she breathes out softly, green eyes dilated. Trina smirks.

"Something the matter?"

"No," Emma rumbles, breathing in deeply, lashes fluttering as the heady scent of arousal. "Not at all."

Pushing the dress up to Trina's hips, Emma dips her head and swipes at slick folds with an eager tongue, arms encircling tanned thighs as Trina arches towards her with a husky groan. Blonde hair is gathered up in one of Trina's hands, tugged lightly as if she were holding the reins of a trusty steed, and Emma's licking and sucking only gets more excited at the sting of pain mixing with their pleasure. When her lover's tugging gets more persistent, she pushes her tongue into Trina's entrance, clinging on harder as the other woman's spine arches at the welcome intrusion. The warm, wet muscle wiggling its way inside her has Trina's head dropping back along the top of the armchair, her fingers tightening in blonde hair as she holds Emma's head firmly between her legs, hips rocking against her lover's face.

"Oh, right there," she rasps, flutters starting deep within her core, pleasure trickling from her belly to her spine, a coil of promising tension. "Mmm, Emma... Fuck."

The profanity sends a shock of heat straight to the apex of Emma's thighs and she moans into slick flesh, the resulting vibration tipping Trina into pleasurable bliss, crying out softly as her thighs tighten around a blonde head. That warm, persistent tongue doesn't let up and she continues rocking her hips, Emma licking her into a second orgasm before she's finally pushed away with trembling hands.

"Gods," Trina laughs shakily, legs limp and twitching as Emma licks her lips clean and rests her cheek against Trina's inner thigh, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

"Did I do good?" Emma asks sweetly, green eyes soft and bright like a puppy seeking approval. Trina reaches down to cup her cheek, drawing her up for a loving kiss.

"Mm, you did so good. My good girl..." Tasting the lingering hint of herself on Emma's lips, Trina hums and slides her hands down along Emma's neck and chest, tweaking at erect pink nipples as the blonde writhes a little in her grasp.

"Ah." Green eyes flutter as Emma moans, catching Trina's wrists in her hands. "God, I'm so tingly and sensitive right now. Everything feels so..."

She trails off, dazed, and Trina softens at that, gently pulling her wrists from Emma's grasp to stroke at her lover's hair in a soothing manner. The blonde leans heavily into her, humming in content at the affectionate touch.

"It's been a couple hours, I'm sure you're really feeling it now. If you don't want to sleep it off, we could go for a dip in the lake instead. The water's refreshing."

"Yeah?" Emma perks up, her spine straightening, and Trina's eyes drop for just a moment to admire pert nipples before she reminds herself to make eye contact.

"Mm. Did you bring a swimsuit?"

Green eyes narrow playfully. "What do I need a swimsuit for? I'm already naked."

Standing, Emma pads to the door, her movements languid as she glances over her shoulder at Trina's hungry stare. "Coming?"

Jumping up, Trina strips in record time, hurrying to follow after her coy lover. By the time she makes it outside and steps onto the grass, Emma is already thigh-deep in the water, her blonde hair gleaming in the bright moonlight.

"Brrr! It's a little cold." Despite the shiver running up her spine, Emma turns around and walks backwards further into the lake, the little thatch of blonde hair at the apex of her legs disappearing beneath the water. "You coming?"

"Well someone has to make sure you don't drown," Trina teases with a roll of her eyes, but there's no denying the husk in her voice as she wades in after Emma, like a sailor drawn out to sea by a siren's tantalizing song. Emma's arms are open and waiting, curling around her once she steps into the welcome embrace, their body heat mingling between their bodies even as they continue to essentially waddle out into the lake.

"It's cold," Emma mentions again, laughing even as she shivers briefly. The night air is still warm with the season and her quickly-sobering brain is yelling at her to jump out of the cool water and flee for land, but nothing is going to stop her from cuddling her affectionate lover no matter where they're standing. Chests pressed together, she can feel Trina's stiff nipples pressing against her own, their bodies rebelling against the temperature.

"Are you still buzzy?" Trina teases, reaching down to cup water in both palms and lightly splashing them up at Emma's back. The blonde jumps, squealing and flailing as the movement only serves to splash more cold water against their bodies, and the huskiest, most delicious laugh escapes her brunette lover, making her go still with awe. Bathed in the soft blue moonlight, Trina looks absolutely divine - ethereal, even. Warm russet eyes gleam with affection and the soft lines at the edges of her eyes and mouth are more noticeable when she's scrubbed free of makeup, a passionate woman aging with effortless grace.

"I love you," Emma blurts out, and it's the first time she's said it to Trina, the words rusty but so right on her tongue. Trina goes still, eyes searching the depths of hers, lips parted in surprise, and Emma nearly gasps at the warmth bubbling up within her chest at how perfect this all feels. Like the universe has finally settled into place. "I love you, Trina."

Blinking back tears, Trina leans forward to press their foreheads together, noses brushing, breath hot against lips. "I love you, too," she whispers, feeling the gentle tightening of Emma's arms around her body, every inch of their skin tingling where they touch. She kisses her, soft and chaste, just lips sliding tenderly against lips. The water lapping at their waists is cold, a stark contrast to the heat simmering within her chest and stomach both, and she starts to pull Emma backwards towards the shore.

Calves hitting the edge of a lounge chair, Trina sits back and pulls Emma atop her, relishing in the weight and warmth of her lover straddling her hips. Hands grip at hip bones, fingers digging into soft flesh, gently raking down pale thighs and pulling them tighter. Slick warmth presses against her lower abdomen and she moans, sliding her hands back up and around to grab Emma's ass and coax her into movement, urging the blonde to roll her hips against her. Gasping into Trina's mouth, Emma rocks against her, smearing herself against the brunette's stomach. They lay back along the lounge chair, rocking and undulating together, until Trina snakes one hand between them and sheathes her fingers within clinging heat, watching with lidded eyes as Emma's head tips back and a soft cry of pleasure escapes her throat.

"You're so beautiful," Trina murmurs, fingers thrusting, slow and deep, using her hips to push up into her panting lover. Emma rolls her hips and shudders above her, her rhythm falling apart as she milks those talented fingers almost desperately, muscles clenching every time she's filled. A familiar tension coils at the base of her spine and she nearly sobs, trying to hold off as long as she can—but Trina's thumb slides persistently against her slippery clit and her spine snaps taut a moment later, crying out sharply as an orgasm rips through her body like lightning. Her hips thrust frantically into those pumping fingers for a long few seconds, drawing out every delicious ripple of her orgasm before her limbs start trembling, turning weak and boneless from pleasure. Slumping forward, Emma tucks her face into the crook of Trina's neck and shoulder, whimpering as those wicked fingers continue pumping into her ever so gently, causing her to twitch weakly in her arms.

"T-Trina," she pleads, moaning as her abdominal muscles quiver and clench, hips jerking up with every thrust. She's sensitive beyond measure, this close to being rendered a sobbing mess of arousal, but her body continues to respond to Trina's touch like a finely tuned instrument.

"Again," Trina murmurs, cradling Emma close as the blonde trembles against her. "Please?"

Her answer is a gentle bite to the neck, Emma's teeth closing around warm flesh and leaving a fresh hickey before she releases Trina with a strangled gasp. A rush of fluid gushes out over her hand and Emma goes limp atop her with a breathy whimper, her body heavy with bliss and exhaustion.

"There's my girl," Trina murmurs, easing her fingers out while stroking at blonde hair with her other hand, smiling at the way Emma nuzzles into the intimate space between her neck and shoulder, settling happily against her lover with nary a care in the world.

They lay together for a long while, Emma's warm breath even against Trina's damp skin, olive hands gently stroking up and down a pale spine. Their bodies cool down despite the warm air and they eventually stand and head back inside in silent agreement, slipping into a quiet bath together to wash off the lake water and sweat. Dried off, warm and naked, they slide into bed for the night, their bodies touching from head to toe, limbs so tangled that it was impossible to tell them apart.

"Trina?" Emma's voice is soft and hoarse in the dark, rough from a full day's worth of being vocal in the throes of passion. Trina smiles sleepily at the knowledge that she is responsible for it.

"Yes, darling?"

The term of endearment warms Emma's chest. Regina called her that all the time, and Trina's use of it has only grown the longer they are together.

"Would you..." Her voice cracks and she clears her throat, a trickle of nervousness slipping through. Trina brushes a stray strand of hair from her forehead and gives her a sleepy, encouraging smile, eyes gleaming in the pale moonlight. "Would you consider marrying again?"

There's a pause, Trina blinking slowly before comprehension dawns on her features. Where Emma fears potential rejection, Trina's lips just twitch in amusement.

"Are you proposing to me, Wife?"

The tease has Emma turning pink with embarrassment, coaxing a low chuckle from the brunette. "I meant—"

"I know," Trina says, kissing her on the nose and causing Emma to scrunch her face. "I know what you meant, Emma. And when you're ready—" because she knows that despite Emma bringing the topic up, she's the one who will still need time, "I would be honored to legally marry you here, in this world."

Green eyes are bright, hopeful and happy and forever grateful for Trina's patience and understanding. Resting a hand over Emma's heart, Trina adds, "Just know that in my heart, you and Henry are already my family. In our last world, in this world, and in the next."

Emma kisses her, deep and passionate and thorough, until both are heaving and panting for air, lips bruised and cheeks flushed.

"I love you," Emma whispers, eyes crinkled with a smile that could light up the world. Trina melts into their tangled embrace, wondering how she could have ever been so lucky to find her beloved across worlds.

"And I you, my love."

Comments feed a writer's soul. Tell me what you thought of the chapter! *Was the smut good? Did I do good? ;)