Title: Roses in the Snow

Author: misscanteloupe

Rating: M

Summary: In the midst of a massive blizzard, the last thing Emma needs is to be snowed in with Regina Mills of all people. Swan Queen.

A/N: First off, I started writing this during the snow storm that hit the south like, two weeks ago. I'd meant to finish it by then but, of course, it never works that way. So here it is now :) I took a break from working on a larger sq story to write this. It turned out to be much fluffier than I thought it'd be, though it's rated M for a reason. Not that I think that'll stop any of you lol

Secondly, I'm not too sure when this takes place. I don't exactly watch the show. But I'm going to have to say post-Neverland, but without the Henry-Pan body switch.

For anyone interested, my tumblr is the same as here, misscanteloupe. Hope you guys enjoy!

The cold, bitter wind whipped violently around her hair as Emma approached Town Hall, adjusting her scarf and wishing she had thought to bring something warmer other than her leather jacket. But when the newscast had reported a possible storm brewing in the horizon, she'd taken it for what it was; speculation.

Now, as the snow-covered pavement crunched beneath her feet, straying from the path and onto the desolated road, she was beginning to think Mary Margaret was right. Maybe her stubbornness would be the death of her after all.

She just didn't think Maine could ever get this cold.

It was roughly four hours ago that she received a call from David declaring a state of emergency, issued by the governor of Maine and extended for nearly half the state. Apparently Storybrooke was no longer hidden enough in its vicinities to ignore statewide protocols, even if the town was literally a figment filled with fairytale characters.

As such she had been forced out of her parents' apartment early that afternoon, and on her day off no less. Clad in her uniform and Sheriff's badge pinned discreetly beneath her jacket, she had set out to evacuate the town's facilities and aid in preparation. Businesses were closed down as a result, and the rest of the town's occupants were urged to head home, a course of action that shouldn't have taken as much effort as it did.

It was only an hour into the evacuation procedure that it started to snow; small dusts of flurry had shifted into a full out storm, bathing the grounds in endless white by the hour's end. It would've been a pretty sight if it wasn't such a major inconvenience.

For one, her bug was currently encased in half a foot of snow. Leaving it parked by the Sheriff's department for several hours probably wasn't her best idea, as she would have to walk the rest of the way home before the storm worsened if she wanted to make it back safely.

Did she mention it was also very cold?

Huffing out a breath, Emma ducked her chin into the confines of her scarf before sliding her hands into her pockets. She shuffled up the steps and into the building just as she was beginning to feel the harsh sting of the air prickle at her fingers, and soon enough she was standing before the busy hall, slightly taken aback by the amount of people who had stayed behind.

"David," Emma greeted with surprise, her forehead creasing as she took in the sight of the remaining stragglers. "What're you still doing here?"

She really wanted to ask what they were still doing here, because she had just spent four hours of her afternoon ushering people home. And to see her efforts stomped on by those who refused to abide by the rules was kind of a blow to her ego now that she thought about it.

"Evacuating," David answered, his lips forming into an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I know I should've called. Some of the workers didn't get the memo."

"You think?" Emma countered wryly. She rolled her eyes. "Where's Henry?"

"With your mother," he replied, darting his gaze over to the other end of the room, where several others were now donned in winter gear. "I told her we'd be home before the storm gets worst. As soon as we get these people out of here."

"And how long will that take?"

"With you by my side?" he mused, and Emma suspected this was his cue to pay her some sort of compliment. "No idea."

She shoved him in response, restraining her grin as he chuckled softly and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Come on. Think you can help them to their cars?" he asked after a short pause.

Emma rolled her shoulders back in a shrug, but nodded promptly after feigning indecision. "Don't have much of a choice. Sheriff, remember?"

David's answering smile was all she needed to cast aside any lingering doubt, and with a final shoulder squeeze, he left Emma to her own devices.

Surprisingly enough the procedure didn't take nearly as long as she thought it would, nor were there as many people loitering inside the building as it first appeared. By six Emma had helped clear up the roads for easier access, and within twenty minutes she had the remaining residents safely in their cars and on their way.

David was waiting for her by the doors as she made her final trip up the stairwell.

"Ready?" he urged.

Emma shook her head, acutely aware of the fatigue smothering her body now that most of the work was done. She felt her muscles strain painfully in her effort to climb forward.

"I can't," she declined, brushing away the specks of snow from her hair. "I've gotta lock up. And check the electric meter in case there's a power outage tonight."

"I can wait," he offered simply.

"Just go ahead," Emma insisted, shooting him a grateful smile. "I don't know how long it'll take anyway. If you're getting a ride with Archie, I can take the cruiser back. My car's kind of stranded at the station."

"Emma, I don't mind –"

"Go," she remarked with a playful nudge, and after some more hesitation on his part, reluctantly handed her the keys. "I'll see you when I get home."

"Be careful."

"I will," she assured him, but it was a flat promise when he continued to eye her skeptically. The moment passed and finally he sighed in defeat, bobbing his head in a terse nod.

"Don't take too long," he warned her, and before Emma could respond, he was out the door, his bulky form disappearing in the heavy snowfall.

Shaking her head and remembering why she was here, Emma shut the door behind her, closing it off to the wintry, crisp air filtering in through the gaps. The silence that penetrated the hall was somewhat dreary, and she was almost grateful for the sharp winds echoing in from the walls, if only to drown out the sounds of her own breathing.

She needed to make this quick if she had any chance of making it to the apartment before nightfall, and so she hurried off towards the archway leading into the building's basement. It wasn't technically a priority of hers to ensure that Town Hall was locked up and… well, not devoid of electricity. But the last time a storm had raged upon Storybrooke, she had unwittingly taken the blame for some of the outages that occurred when she'd failed to take the necessary precautions. God forbid she'd have Regina on her ass again.

There was a murky darkness in the alcove located on the bottom floor, where the hidden crevasses were barely visible in the ceiling's florescent lights. They flickered constantly and without fail, and Emma struggled to find the flashlight that was usually kept on the equipment shelf.

After several minutes of scouring, she found it tucked in a corner behind a tangled pile of cords. The frustration was beginning to gnaw at her as she turned to the electric meter on the other side, prying the door open with one hand while the other tilted the light over the inner switches.

They all looked the same.

"Perfect," Emma grumbled, her face twisting into a scowl. Turning the power off wasn't supposed to be this hard. If it was a viable way to prevent circuit damage…

"Alright, Swan. Focus," she muttered, pointedly glaring at the unfamiliar notches lining the metal surface. She spotted one that looked vaguely different from the others, and moved her hand over the switch.

She lurched back at the sudden shock that surged up her arm.

"Ow," she hissed and clutched the injured hand to her chest. Gritting her teeth, Emma tossed any confused notions aside and tried again, this time taking extra care to avoid getting electrocuted.

The first notch didn't seem to have an effect. Neither did the second. By the fifth she was growing restless, and was more than ready to give up when, suddenly, the light above flared brightly and then sputtered off with a spark.

She saw the electric charge before she felt it, flaring blue, and then white, crackling against her skin. The pain was instantaneous, shooting up the length of her arm and scorching her from the inside.

She didn't feel herself stumbling to the ground until it was too late. The sheer force of it raced right through her spine and to the nape of her neck, where her head took most of the fall's impact.

She was unconscious before the light's final flicker.

When Emma awoke again, it was to the air's icy coolness. She lay on her back as she gathered her bearings, but her brain felt muddled and her muscles were unbearably sore; not to mention the eerie darkness that surrounded her vision.

It was all kind of unnerving, and… God, she couldn't recall pain being that excruciating.

The groan that erupted from her chest scratched at her throat, clogging there until she summoned the urge to cough it out in a series of long, strangled gasps. As she stood, she was vaguely aware of how quickly the room's temperature had dropped since she had lost consciousness, and wondered how long it had been.

Grabbing the flashlight, she cast the electric meter a wary glance and hobbled over to the stairwell leading back to the main hall, where the biting air seemed to swarm her skin the longer she stood. Outside, nightfall had already settled in, blanketing the room in fields of darkness.

"Shit," Emma found herself muttering, running a frantic hand through her hair. "No… no, this can't be happening."

But it was.

She didn't have to peer through the windows to know the snow had mounted, judging by the shrill wail of the weather screaming around her. Placing a hand on the entrance doors, Emma pushed, but whether it was her rattled nerves or a stronger force bearing down on the other side, the door wouldn't budge.

She was snowed in.

Fumbling for her phone, Emma cursed beneath her breath upon realizing she wouldn't be getting a signal any time soon. But it was short lived when she was startled by the sound of a door creaking open, followed by shuffling steps against the marble floor.

Emma's first response teetered along the lines of running for cover, and possibly ambushing the intruder because… who the hell decided it would be a good idea to remain stranded in Town Hall in the middle of a snow storm?

Except maybe Emma.

Common sense won out, however, as she made her breaths as quiet as possible and searched for a glimpse of whatever was out of place. Back pressed against the wall, Emma gripped her flashlight tightly, taking in one slow, haggard breath before shining the light over the source of the intrusive footsteps.

She felt the dread course through her stomach almost as quickly as it dawned on her. She recognized that scowl anywhere.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Emma demanded when the light stopped short of the woman's face, illuminating the sharp features.

Regina's shoulders jerked with surprise, but otherwise met Emma's glare with a look that was neither abrasive nor cold. Instead it was unusually stoic, and somehow perceptive, as if studying Emma with no intention of caring for a reaction.

"I could ask you the same," Regina finally replied, her posture stiff and defensive. "Isn't it a little past your bedtime?"

Emma clenched her jaw. "Just answer the question."

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"It is when I'm holed up in here with you," Emma snapped, straightening her spine as she caught the brief flash of bewilderment crossing her face. "God… you don't even know, do you?"

"Perhaps," Regina began, enunciating the word with deliberate slowness, "I would be more inclined to answer your ridiculous questions if you would get that damned light out of my face."

Emma blinked, at first puzzled by the biting request, or… demand, really, before she realized Regina's eyes were narrowed rather comically against the light she had pinned over her face. Stifling the impulse to leave it there, Emma rolled her eyes and tucked the flashlight to her side, allowing the darkness to swallow up her features once again.

Emma could barely make out the jaded frown marring Regina's face when she wryly inquired, "Better?"

"Not particularly," Regina drawled. "Your presence is hardly something to be desired, dear. I can think of much better ways to be spending my evening."

"Well, sorry to disappoint," Emma shot back. "It's not like we have much of a choice here."

"What are you even talking about?"

"Are you kidding me right now?" Emma blurted in a frustrated tone. "What, are you living under a rock? Did you even bother to look out the window?"

Regina pursed her lips stubbornly. "Excuse me for not fretting over some meager storm."

"Meager?" Emma echoed, letting out a choked laugh. "Jesus, Regina. And you call me dense."

Anger glinted off Regina's expression, her face stern and Emma could vaguely make out the slight twitch in her jaw. And then, like clockwork, the brunette strode past her, making sure to nudge her way over Emma's shoulder.

"Where're you going?"

"I will not sit here only to be insulted by you of all people," Regina explained distantly, emphasizing the 'you' with blatant distaste. The soles of her boots clanked soundly against the floor as she stalked towards the front doors, not even sparing Emma a second glance.

Emma snorted. "Yeah. Good luck with that," she muttered, more to herself than anything, though her eyes wavered over Regina's form as the older woman struggled to wrench the door open.

It would've been funny if she wasn't already so tired, and not completely in the physical sense. Dragging her feet lazily to the lounge chair by the fireplace, Emma perched herself at the edge, staring sullenly out the window.

And waited.

After about five minutes of futile attempts – and a successful one where Regina was able to push past the snow covered barrier, only to slam the door shut at the first sign of harsh winds – Regina curled her fists and turned to face the blonde.

"Happy now?" Emma asked flatly.

Regina remained quiet, scrutinizing the area with sour disinterest until her eyes locked with Emma's, and Emma could see her jaw do that twitchy thing again. She wondered whether this was the part where Regina would finally lose her cool and just… end her.

"So… we're stuck," Emma declared after a moment of silence, and nearly slapped herself for stating the obvious, because duh. Of course they were stuck.

"It would appear so," Regina agreed quietly, but there was no venom in her voice, and Emma didn't want to ruin the tentative truce they were now forming by saying I told you so. "What do you wish to do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"I assume we're both averse to the idea of freezing to death overnight," Regina elaborated, waving a flippant hand through the air. "So, Savior. What do we do now?"

Emma squared her jaw, though kept her features carefully neutral despite the use of the title. "Now?" she repeated evenly, slumping into her seat with an air of resignation. "Now we wait."

There was some extra wood by the furnace to last a few hours, but with temperatures dropping at a rapid pace, Emma couldn't help but fear those few hours weren't going to be enough. She had no idea how long they were going to be stranded for, when at this point it was fairly obvious the storm would last well into the morning. And if that was the case, if she couldn't retain a signal and call for help, the chances of surviving were… slimmer. Not by much, but it wouldn't just be the cold she'd have to worry about, not when food had to be accounted for.

And she hadn't had anything to eat since that morning.

There was a vending machine on the second floor that didn't have anything remotely appealing; in fact, the whole thing looked like it was beaten and shoved in a closet for thirty years, along with the candy. Either way, the power was out, and she had no money to spare.

But she also wasn't a former thief for nothing, either.

It took her three shots, but she managed to shatter the glass without severely injuring herself, or the chair she used as the prop for that matter. She grabbed several granola bars and a bag of m&m's for herself, because she just knew Regina would only hand her a death glare if she so much as offered something as fattening as chocolate.

When she trudged back into the main hall, the fire was still ablaze, small, crackling flames brightening the room in shades of yellow. It wasn't much warmer here than it was in the other rooms, though, which put an even bigger damper in Emma's mood. She couldn't feel her fingers.

Regina was sitting on one of the lounge chairs, stiff and disinterested as ever. She hardly glanced at Emma as the blonde approached with an armful of snacks.

"I found some food," she pointed out, nervously shifting her weight. "You know… if you're hungry."

She didn't offer a response in return, but merely looked on into the fire with a strange glaze in her eyes, ignoring Emma altogether.

"Right," Emma scoffed quietly before dumping the pile on the floor. "I guess that's a no, then."

She resumed her seat by the fireplace, as close as she could possibly get without the risk of catching an accidental spark. But the marble was cold beneath her skin, even through the material of her jeans, and she stifled the violent shiver threatening to rake down her spine.

As happy as she was to indulge in Regina's silent treatment, she needed a distraction.

"Can I ask you something?" Emma prompted, not really expecting a response but feeling the need to fill the empty void in the air.

To her surprise, Regina actually looked up, her gaze shifting to meet Emma's. "You just did."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Funny."

"I try," Regina deadpanned, lifting a brow in Emma's direction. "If this is your attempt at playing twenty questions, however, count me out."

"Somehow I don't think you'd be willing to answer any of my questions."

"You would be correct."

Emma sighed, her breath mingling with the icy air as it turned white. "Why are you here, Regina?"

"The same reason as you, I presume," Regina answered. "Misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Emma's brow wrinkled as she spoke. "But you weren't here. Not when the others were, at least."

"How astute of you, dear," Regina said blandly, her tone almost mocking. "Perhaps I was simply enjoying the solitude of my office."

Emma blinked at her in bewilderment. "You're not Mayor anymore."

"I realize that."

And just like that, Emma could feel the strain of the conversation rear back to its original form – tense and charged with the magnitude of this whole situation. It dawned on her how downright shitty her luck had to be to find herself stranded in the same room with her enemy – or former enemy, really, but still a pain in her ass. The fact that it was in the middle of a blizzard paled in comparison to the long night she would now have withstanding Regina's venom.

Emma folded her arms across her chest. "Do you always have to be so damn cryptic?"

"That depends," Regina said, and her lips twitched into a half-smirk. "Often times you Charmings are too thickheaded to read between the lines."

"Or maybe you're just an insufferable know-it-all who wouldn't know a damn thing about courtesy if it bit you in the ass," Emma hurled back, her face scrunched in annoyance. "You know what? Forget it. This isn't worth fighting over –"

"No, please. Go on," Regina interrupted knowingly. "Enlighten me with your extensive knowledge on basic human courtesy. After all, you've deliberately sabotaged my relationship with my son –"

"Seriously? You're going with that again?" Emma cut in. "You did that all on your own –"

"Not to mention bringing the idiot whose purpose was nothing more than a sperm donor –"

"Neal is Henry's father," Emma gritted out. "He's here to stay whether we like it or not."

"And where is Mr. Cassidy now, hm?" Regina proceeded in a strangely terse tone. "Or that moronic pirate for that matter. I would've presumed your suitors would be graveling at their feet to rescue you by now."

There was a certain undertone in Regina's voice that Emma couldn't quite decipher, almost like an underlying grudge that manifested itself in the form of… Emma wrinkled her brow as she realized it almost sounded like jealousy. And that was just stupid, because why the hell would Regina ever be jealous of her? It wasn't like she was tripping through tulips at the notion of being fought over constantly.

"You know, Regina. Funny you should say that when you're the one with magic here," Emma told her, choosing to avoid mentioning her suspicions. "Better yet, why don't you just poof back home and save me the migraine?"

It truthfully hadn't occurred to her until then; why Regina hadn't simply magicked her way out of here when she had the chance, and she definitely did now.

"I can't," was the brisk reply.

"What do you mean you can't?"

"Do you honestly think I'd still be here listening to your incessant chatter if I could?" Regina muttered out in a scolding fashion. "My magic has depleted since Neverland. I can no longer 'poof' out of here, as you would so elegantly say."

"That's a shame," Emma mumbled dryly, and she meant it in the most cynical way possible. Or maybe not. Poofing would've brought her home by now.

"Don't worry, dear," Regina added with a measure of condescension. "Unlike you, my methods of discourtesy don't include abandonment."

Green eyes flashed upward in irritation. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Regina lowered her brow skeptically, and seemed to falter slightly before she turned away to train her eyes on the fire once more. "Nothing."

"No," Emma bit back. "If you have something to say, then say it."

"And what would you have me say exactly?"

"Oh, I don't know," Emma challenged. "Something about me being an unfit mother? What, because I gave Henry up?"

"You did, didn't you?" Regina pressed fiercely, snapping her attention back to her. "Oh, but the fact that I raised him for ten years of his life goes unnoticed –"

"Don't start –"

"Why shouldn't I?" Regina persisted, locking her irate stare on Emma's equally galled expression. "When you are the one who abandoned him –"

"Shut up!"

" – and now decided to play house with two morons who would lick the dirt off your boot if you asked them to," Regina snarled as she stood up, towering over Emma's still sitting form. "It's a little pathetic if you ask me –"

"Yeah, well no one asked you –"

"I have every right to state my claim when it concerns our son. Especially when it's something as pitiful as a little heartache," Regina hissed, stopping short of Emma's crossed legs. Her sharp, though decisively pensive gaze trailed over Emma's face, locking her in place with her next words. "Is that it?" the brunette continued, her tone a little softer, but undoubtedly laced with amusement. "Are you lonely, Emma?"

Emma was struck with a cold wave settling in her stomach, rising up to invade her throat as she swallowed hard against the bile sweeping past her tongue. She scrambled up on unsteady knees and met Regina's glare head-on, prominently aware of the distance she'd placed between them when the cold mists of Emma's breaths mingled with hers. It set Emma's blood coiling for a moment before she managed to smother the rage and shove past the unknowing woman.

"Where do you think you're going?" Regina threw over her shoulder, watching the blonde retreat to the corner.

Emma fisted her hands against her sides. "Away from you!" she growled.

"Emma!"

The call was immediately quelled by a door slamming shut, reverberating loudly in the small office room Emma found herself in. Turning the lock, she placed her forehead over the smooth surface of the door as she listened to Regina's calls strengthen in pitch, closing in on the walls.

A hasty knock against her ear pulled Emma away from the door.

"Miss Swan," Regina started in a strained voice, turning the knob. "Open the door this instant."

"Go away," Emma barked, and slid her back over the wall as the knocks continued in a series of headache inducing thuds.

As Emma clenched her eyes shut, she willed the noise away by focusing on the bitter cold instead, trapping her in an encasement of frosty air.

"Stop being so childish and open the door!" Regina continued from the other end, but the plea held less of a demanding force to it; it was almost enough for Emma to give in. Almost.

She held her ground, though, and it was out of sheer force of will that she remained seated on the ground, staring resolutely at the carpeted floor digging into her knuckles. Eventually the knocks subsided, leaving behind a heavy silence that filtered into the room and, somehow, caused Emma's head to pound relentlessly.

It wasn't until she heard the floor creak on the opposite end of the door that she realized Regina hadn't left yet, but was standing silently in what Emma assumed must be the calm before the storm.

Instead a soft sigh edged its way through the door's barriers, sinking into Emma's vicinity with the magnitude of a bullet shot. And then, so quietly she thought she'd imagined it, Regina's voice trickled closely in from the doorway.

"I'm sorry."

There was some shuffling, and finally the footsteps receded. Emma ducked her head, bringing her knees closer to her chest as she let out a deep, miserable sigh.

This was going to be a long night.

It was an hour later when Emma threw caution into the wind and unlocked the door, allowing the dimming light from the fireplace to seep into her vision. Inching her way towards the flames, she clutched the large, wooly blanket in her arms possessively before circling the lounge chair in a hesitant stride.

Brown eyes snapped to hers in surprise.

"Here," Emma muttered, holding out the blanket in a terse offering. "I found it in a closet. There's only one so… take it."

She didn't meet Regina's eye, though judging from the mute response, or lack thereof, the brunette was probably regarding the blanket curiously. Or maybe glaring at it with utter disgust. Either way, Emma was uncomfortable.

Just as Emma was about to explode in discomfort, Regina reached out to take it, their fingers grazing briefly in the exchange. Regina's breath hitched slightly at the contact, whereas Emma flinched and lurched back; the touch was so cold it was almost hot, and her skin felt momentarily scalded.

"Thank you," Regina murmured awkwardly, accepting the blanket with a barely concealed frown. But the gratitude was apparent in her tone, and so Emma nodded curtly and recovered her seat at the edge of the fireplace.

Neither of them spoke a word as the minutes ticked by, the silence practically claustrophobic as the storm continued to wail outside the walls. From her peripheral, Emma could make out the gray, washed out texture of the blanket draped over Regina's form, and for some reason that satisfied her.

It was Regina who surrendered first. "Emma, I –"

"Don't," Emma cut her off. "Whatever you're about to say, just leave it. I don't want to fight anymore."

She lifted her head then, her gaze fully meeting Regina's in a tug of war challenge that surpassed the five second mark. Finally Regina nodded wordlessly, and Emma let out a relieved breath she hadn't known she'd been holding as she settled herself more comfortably over the cold marble floor.

"Tell me about him," Emma requested suddenly, keeping her eyes on the dwindling flames.

"What are you –"

"Henry," she clarified. "When he was younger. Tell me something about him."

Regina stared thoughtfully at the ground before returning her gaze to Emma. "What would you like to know?"

"Anything."

"Very well," Regina said evenly, rubbing her lips together as she pondered her next words. "He was always rather small for his age," she stated. "As an infant, he could practically fit in the palm of my hand. I very nearly pulled him out on his first day of school when I realized how much smaller he was from the other children."

Emma nodded at this. "What else?"

"He developed a liking for animals in his early years," Regina went on, flicking her eyes to Emma expectantly. "Oddly enough his first word was 'duck.'"

A smile curled around Emma's lips as she absorbed the information like a sponge. "Something else."

"His favorite superhero was batman. That is until the age of nine, when his view on heroes… changed drastically," Regina continued distantly. "I –" she trailed off in a short rasp, and Emma tore her gaze away from the fire to look at her. "I had never seen him smile as much as he did when you came into his life."

There was no malice in her tone as she said this, or even a hint of the accusation Emma expected when it came down to her unwanted arrival in Henry's life. It was weird, because it wasn't every day that Regina would allow her mask to slip to the point where she would sound so vulnerable and… honest. It stirred something within Emma, making the lingering sense of guilt clawing at her chest all the more real.

"You're staring at me as though I'm about to break any minute," Regina noted sourly. "I'm not made out of glass, dear. So I suggest you stop."

Emma hadn't even realized she was staring as she quickly snapped out of her reverie, frowning over her sheepish features. "Sorry."

Regina waved a hand in the air, as if the sentiments were unnecessary, which they probably were. But Emma could hardly resist the need to apologize when it felt like the most natural thing to do.

She didn't think twice as she stood from the floor and sauntered slowly to the other end of the lounge chair Regina was seated on, making sure to leave a suitable amount of distance between them. Emma turned to see her arch a curious brow at her.

"The floor's hard," Emma explained weakly, even though she felt significantly colder now without the heat from the fire. Neither woman mentioned the fact that there was a perfectly handy armchair sitting a few feet away.

"I come here during the day when the opportunity calls for it," Regina confessed after a pregnant pause, looking faintly ill at the prospect of saying anything at all. "I have been… growing rather restless the last few weeks. I find the comforts of my – former office far more relaxing."

"That's why you're in here?" Emma inquired, eyes narrowing a little. "You were sleeping?"

Regina's face turned a peculiar shade of pink before fixing her with an indignant look. "I was resting."

"That's the same thing."

"I hardly think you would know the difference," Regina shot back. "Tell me, dear. What's your excuse?"

"I blacked out," Emma replied with a shrug. "Guess you could say I'm the reason why the power's out."

"You can't be serious."

Emma nodded solemnly, if only to hide the smug grin playing her face when Regina's eyes widened and fluttered in disbelief. "I have the scar to prove it, too."

She hadn't noticed it before, probably because she was too busy adjusting to this whole situation, but her right hand still tingled from the electric shock. And if she held her hand out at a certain angle in the light, she could easily distinguish the flaring red skin marring her palm.

Emma was giving it another once over when, suddenly, her hand was curled up in Regina's, closing the distance between them in one swoop that took her completely by surprise. It was out of reflex – a habitual reaction whenever people got too close – that she jerked it away, or tried to anyway.

Fingers wrapped around her wrist, keeping it in place, and Emma watched in unabashed interest as Regina studied the scarred tissue with something akin to… concern.

"Does it hurt?" Regina murmured, shifting her eyes to Emma earnestly.

The gesture caused something tight to curl up in Emma's throat, and she swallowed thickly before shaking her head. "No."

It did hurt, but it was easy to distract herself when Regina's fingers were trailing down the length of her own; gentle caresses that seemed to brush over her fine hairs like static and avoid the area of charred skin as a whole.

"Regina…?" Emma breathed out tentatively.

Regina ignored her as she settled Emma's hand in her cupped palm, allowing it to sprawl over her lap with Regina's fingers still entwined around her wrist. Dampening her lips with a flick of her tongue, she then proceeded to heal it, tracing her fingertips over the magnitude of the reddened skin as the surrounding area glowed a soft purple.

Emma observed the motion in utter bafflement, watching as the skin reverted back to its original color. The slow, tender movements whispered down her arm, leaving behind traces of residue magic in the form of relentless tingles. Her entire body vibrated in the sensation as she waited out the final few seconds when her hand was presented to her good as new.

Regina stilled then as she leaned a little closer, her hot breath sweeping across Emma's arm, and it took every ounce of her willpower not to pull away. Instead her pulse quickened beneath Regina's touch, enough to severe the trance and cause brown eyes to snap up to hers.

"I thought you said you had no magic," Emma added shakily, her throat closing up under the intense scrutiny.

"Semantics, dear," Regina exclaimed softly, her gaze never leaving's Emma's. "I have very little magic."

"Apparently enough to heal me," Emma pointed out with a half-hearted chuckle, but a genuine smile graced her features.

It was quiet again, a heavy tension filling the air between them as Emma found herself unconsciously leaning forward. The grip on her wrist tightened ever so slightly, and Emma was sure the brunette could sense the blood thrumming frantically against her pulse point, if she couldn't already hear it pounding into her ribcage.

"Yes," Regina agreed in a whisper. "Apparently so."

She was staring at Emma with an unreadable expression, measuring her, but when she thought those dark eyes dropped to her lips, the heat circulated all around. Emma could feel it throbbing in her ears, down to the low humming in her chest and churning in her stomach and –

It was too much.

Reality smacked Emma across the face and she hastily yanked her hand away before she could think better of it. The abrupt force caused her to hurl herself back to the other end of the chair, nearly toppling over the edge as she forced herself to look up. Regina's pristine mask of indifference was back in place.

"It's getting late," Regina said calmly, although there was a hard edge to her tone that Emma didn't miss. "Get some rest. I'll see if I can find some more firewood."

The hairs at the nape of Emma's neck bristled as Regina brushed past her, bumping their knees slightly as she let the wooly blanket fall behind her.

"Regina, wait –"

But she was already gone, her footsteps receding to the stairwell until they were out of earshot, and it was minutes afterward before Emma moved. She stared at the ground, willing it to swallow her whole.

She couldn't help but wonder how badly she messed up this time.

Emma was jolted awake by a particular loud blast of wind clattering against the windows, and she sat up as soon as she was aware of her surroundings. She was still seated on the lounge chair, she noticed, her head tucked at an awkward angle on the armrest. But it was the rough patch of fabric skimming down her neckline that strung her attention. The wooly blanket she'd given Regina was now draped over her torso, shielding her from the rapidly dropping temperatures.

Emma shivered nonetheless and clutched the blanket closer to her chest as she squinted through the darkness. The fire had waned to a burning pile of ashes sometime during her nap, blanketing the room in flittering shadows and a white sheen of light cascading in from the windows. In fact, it was dark enough that she nearly missed the flash of movement flicking past the corner of her eye.

Her forehead creased when she spotted Regina in her original seat in front of the fireplace, her face scrunched up in frustration as she attempted to ignite a flame with her hands. A puff of purple smoke whirled around her palm before disappearing completely.

As if sensing her gaze, Regina lifted her head and pinned Emma with an impenetrable stare.

"Oh, thank God," she muttered, her attention swaying back to the task at hand. "I was beginning to mourn the silence."

Emma's puzzled grunt prompted another response.

"You snore," Regina clarified dully, hazarding a glance to the side. "Quite loudly, I might add."

"What?" Emma asked. "No I don't."

"You do," Regina verified, and Emma could practically hear the smirk in her voice. "Are you hungry? Those granola bars you brought down are atrocious."

Emma shook her head. "It's not my fault you never had anyone change the vending machines."

"I was Mayor, dear," Regina scoffed, curling her fingers out once more in a wisp of smoke. "I had more important things to do than worry about what candy bar everyone prefers."

Yeah, like cursing an entire town for twenty-eight years, Emma mused.

Breathing out a weary sigh, Emma rubbed her knuckles over her sleep-deprived eyelids, casting a glimpse over the window before asking, "What time is it?"

"Just after two."

Emma groaned as her head thumped against the surface of the armrest, forcing her neck to crane painfully as a result and her chin to brush over the course fabric of the blanket again. The realization hit her when she fisted her hands through the material and peered over the dim lighting through one parted eyelid.

"Aren't you cold?" Emma wondered out loud, leaning forward to get a better look.

Compared to her, Regina was at least moderately prepared for the weather; dressed in a pea coat that must've been much warmer than Emma's jacket, and some nice leather gloves that probably cost more than Emma's entire outfit. But the air felt stiff and frozen, and she could see her breath gusting past her face with every exhale.

"Do you think I would be here trying to start a fire if I wasn't?" Regina supplied.

"Then why did you give me the blanket?"

There was a moment's pause before Regina spoke. "You were shivering," she explained crisply, avoiding Emma's eye. "Judging by that monstrous jacket of yours, you need it more than I do."

That caught her off guard. "You didn't have to do that."

"And what else would you have me do?" Regina questioned, her mouth curving into a sneer. "Share?"

"It wouldn't be the worst idea," Emma admitted, feeling her face heat up when Regina's eyes latched hard onto hers. "I mean… it's cold, so… why not?"

"Are you suggesting that we cuddle?"

"No," Emma exclaimed, blushing furiously. "I'm saying there's no reason why either of us should freeze when we have other options."

Regina simply looked at her. "That's a terrible idea."

Emma winced. It probably was, considering what had happened just hours before, or what hadn't happened. Which… whatever that was, Emma didn't have a clue. But despite her best efforts to eclipse the memory, she couldn't pretend she wasn't affected when she had been ready to burst at the seams.

"Maybe," Emma conceded, furrowing her brows. "You have a better one?"

At that, Regina turned away with a downturned bend of her mouth, looking more deflated and exposed than Emma could recall ever seeing her. There were other occasions, of course; circumstances that brought them together at a time of shared vulnerability, but this was different. This time Emma didn't understand it.

"Okay," Regina said carefully.

Emma's heart shot up into her throat. "Okay?"

"Must I repeat myself?" Regina sighed, though she didn't sound all that annoyed. "You breathe a word of this to anyone, however, and I won't hesitate to kill you."

"Duly noted," Emma grumbled, and for once, she didn't take the death threat too seriously.

The strain that had dissipated in the last few hours swung back into place almost immediately, and it was with a moment's pause that Emma realized what her suggestion entailed. She'd just offered to share a blanket with Regina. She had essentially offered to curl up with the Evil Queen, and if that wasn't the most bizarre thing she'd ever have to say in her life, she didn't know what was.

The puffs of smoke vanished from the air as Regina surrendered her efforts in building a fire, stalking forward with a reluctant edge in her step that faltered as she drew closer.

"I mean it," she pressed, sounding entirely too lenient for someone who was about to cuddle up with her former enemy. "Say anything to anyone and I will –"

"Yeah, yeah. You'll kill me," Emma echoed doubtfully, before flinging the blanket over. "Just hurry up."

Glowering at her, Regina acquiesced without further complaint, seating herself a foot away from Emma's side.

"Closer," Emma said.

"I beg your pardon?"

Emma heaved out a sigh. "Look, if you want to stay warm, then we're both gonna have to get over ourselves. That means touching. Body heat, get it?"

Apparently Regina didn't if she was looking at Emma as though she'd lost her mind, and, really, Emma was starting to think she was. Letting out another sigh, Emma closed the distance. She scooted sideways until her arm was pressed firmly against Regina's, allowing for some much needed warmth to transmit from the width of their coats. She didn't dare move any closer though, in fear that if Regina stiffened any more, she might actually make good on her promise in killing her.

"Are you done?" Regina seethed, and Emma was able to catch a whiff of the brunette's scent; feminine and refined, with a mild trace of apples and mint. It was… nice.

Yeah. This was definitely going to be a long night.

"Emma, your boot is pressing against my leg."

"Well, maybe if you'd move –"

"May I remind you that this was your idea?"

Emma squelched the aggravated retort before tucking her knee against her chest, removing it from Regina's vicinity. She had been trying to get some sleep for the last twenty minutes, but all that resulted was some more bickering and awkward fumbling. It was bad enough that she was left with this unresolved… tension from being this close to Regina. Emma could practically feel her breathing.

She scowled and burrowed deeper into the blanket.

Beside her, Regina shifted for the eighth time, causing her hand to collide with Emma's thigh. Regina recoiled as though she'd been stung.

"This is ridiculous," she murmured, turning to glare at Emma before shifting again. "If you expect me to sleep like this –"

"God, will you shut up?" Emma hissed, baring her teeth in a semi-feral snarl. Before a scolding retort could roll off her tongue (among other colorful insults), her words were extinguished by a muffled vibration. Emma halted, eyes flicking to the other side of the couch as she strained to hear the familiar buzz.

"Do you hear that?" she asked suspiciously, and when Regina didn't respond, the recognition dawned on her. "Is that… is that my phone?"

She whipped her gaze to Regina's stoic features, half expecting her to at least acknowledge the fact that Emma's phone was ringing – ringing, when there shouldn't have been any signal at all. At least not until the storm had calmed. But Regina remained still in a notoriously innocent manner that only heightened Emma's suspicions.

"Regina," she uttered with a cautious drawl. "Why do you have my phone?"

Regina's eyes locked onto hers then, narrowing inquisitively. "What are you talking about?"

Oh, she was good, Emma would give her that. But her super power was better.

"You're lying," she noted surely, albeit confusedly. "Seriously, why do you have my phone?"

"Are you really accusing me of something so juvenile?"

"Yes," Emma huffed impatiently, stomach dropping as the second round of vibrations continued. "What I don't get is why. Someone could be out there looking for us."

Regina scoffed. "I highly doubt that. You perhaps –"

"Which would lead to us both," Emma finished heatedly, scooching closer. "Look, I don't care why you have it. Just give it back."

"I didn't take it!" Regina fired with conviction, crouching back from Emma's movements. "And I find it incredibly degrading that you think I would –"

"Oh, cut the bullshit," Emma snapped. "I know you have it!"

"I do not –"

Before she could deliver another excuse, Emma swiftly cut her off. Her hands blindly grabbled through the dark until they reached for Regina's sleeve, the motion so quick and unexpected that neither of them anticipated toppling over the other. The air was knocked out of her lungs as Emma took the plunge, accidently crushing her weight over Regina's (arguably smaller) form.

"What the hell are you doing?" Regina barked, jerking away from Emma's persistent hands as she violently shoved at the blonde's shoulders. "Get off me!"

"Not until you give it back," Emma gritted out, grounding her teeth together when a particularly hard shove landed over her stomach. Cringing, she grabbed hold of the two flying fists and clashed them together by the wrists, pinning them over Regina's head. "Will you quit squirming?"

Regina sneered. "Forgive me for defending myself when I'm being assaulted –"

"Then why are you hiding it?"

"For the last time, I did not take your blasted pho –"

Emma sat up, bearing her hand down firmly over Regina's wrists as the other searched for the source of the vibrations. She found it in one of the inner pockets of Regina's coat. A triumphant grin morphed over her face, settling into a frown when the cellphone slipped from her hand due to Regina's consistent squirming, but not before she caught a glimpse of the name flashing over the screen in large, black letters.

Neal Cassidy

The phone collapsed on the floor and buzzed repeatedly before falling silent, leaving the room bare to the stifling stillness that had wedged itself in from that moment on. Despite the uncomfortable lurching in her stomach, Emma found her gaze lingering over the object in question with a sense of bafflement, her battered brain attempting to glue the pieces together with no success. None of it made any sense. The fact that Neal would call her was a given; her parents had most likely done the same before realizing it was all futile. Neal, on the other hand, had always been annoyingly stubborn, especially when it was his stubbornness that had landed her in prison all those years ago.

But that didn't explain why Regina had been hiding the calls in the first place, when they could have very well had them rescued by now. She couldn't dislike Neal that much, could she? It was one thing to harbor an intense hatred for someone posing as a threat to an eleven year old's heart – Emma would know – and possibly an even greater hatred for being the son of Rumplestiltskin. But to risk their lives for the sake of some petty rivalry? That was just stupid, and so unlike Regina she didn't know what to think –

"Emma."

Emma blinked, her attention veering from the floor to the low whisper that slithered from Regina's throat, and Emma warily peered down at her through the veil of her lashes before sucking in a sharp breath. She'd expected Regina to look outraged, or even guilt-ridden for being caught red handed, but her features were relaxed, albeit tinged with the smallest degree of something Emma couldn't quite decipher.

Their faces were so close, maybe a good three or four inches between them as Emma had yet to release Regina's hands from over the brunette's head. But it was close enough to see the indecision in a pair of hooded eyes as they locked hard onto Emma's, watching her intensely. Calculatedly. Puffs of hot air wisped past her face, coiling deep in Emma's stomach as their breaths mingled together in a range of short, uneven pants.

Pulse thumping loudly in her ears, Emma's heartbeat soared when Regina tilted her head higher, causing her grip on the brunette's wrist to loosen and clasp around her fingers instead.

"Emma," came the repeated whisper, soft and raspy and Emma just couldn't think. Her cheeks felt unbelievably hot, and her body thrummed to the heat radiating between her thighs and down the width of Regina's waist.

The confusion and tension practically rippled between them, and Emma swallowed the tight knot clogging her throat as she tore her eyes away from Regina's face and willed herself to stand up. It was all becoming too much. There was just no way she wanted to… no way Regina wanted –

Emma came to an abrupt stop as a sharp gasp slipped from red-tainted lips, followed by a sudden hip-jerk as Regina bucked into the thigh Emma had unwittingly placed between her legs. Emma's head snapped up once more, taking in the sight of Regina's flushed skin and slightly frantic heaves of her chest. There was no mistaking the raw desire consuming Regina's eyes, dilated and darkened to a near black state.

At that knowledge, the knot of anticipation twisted heavily in Emma's gut, and whatever last vestige of her self-control vanished in the pit of the night. She was crossing the distance before she could think better of it, erasing those final inches from Regina's lips to hers.

Emma had barely gotten a taste of Regina's mouth, moist and hot, before she was pulling away again, analyzing her reaction. She expected resistance, maybe even a slap to the face, because what the hell did she think she was doing? Kissing Regina Mills?

But Regina's deep, guttural growl was answer enough as her hand escaped Emma's fragile grip and curled into her blonde locks. She then tugged the back of Emma's neck and crushed their lips together in a lustful rage. Fingers clutched onto Emma's shoulders and forced her closer, and Emma happily obliged, slipping her hand over the small of Regina's back before bringing their bodies tighter together. The sigh that left Emma's mouth came of its own accord, melting into Regina's tongue when the brunette began to lick the inside of her lips.

The gesture left Emma panting into Regina's mouth, causing her stomach to constrict with a wave of heat pulsating between the legs. Tugging her closer, if that was even possible, Emma repeated the action, allowing her tongue to roam Regina's parted lips before taking her lower lip between her teeth and gently nibbling it.

Regina's shudder shot straight through Emma's core. She continued the ministrations until Emma swiped her tongue over Regina's upper lip, feeling the older woman gather a fistful of her hair as the kiss heated up, their tongues finally meeting in a play of dominance. Emma figured she had the advantage at this point as her teeth locked around Regina's tongue and dragged it out, giving it a deliberate suck before pulling out again. It was wet, and definitely a little messy, but Emma wanted to do it ten times over if it meant hearing Regina moan into her mouth like that.

Emma's grip tightened over Regina's hips as they began rocking into her, pressing herself further into Emma's thigh, and it was like her own personal furnace. The heat that radiated into her jeans sent Emma's eyes rolling to the back of her head, her fingers digging painfully into Regina's waist before planting her palms over the brunette's pink-flushed cheeks.

"Regina," Emma rasped, releasing the other woman's mouth with a wet pop, but it was a gesture gone unheeded as Regina latched her lips over Emma's throat instead, sucking gently at her pulse. Soft lips trailed down her neck, kissing the sensitive stretch of skin between her ear and her throat and –

Emma groaned as a hot tongue wormed its way down the length of her throat, using her hand to lace her fingers through Regina's silky hair and tug her closer.

"Regina," Emma whispered again, but her voice sounded harsh in the quiet room; deep and throaty and more like a stranger's voice than hers. She cocked her head when a particularly tender spot was met with tongue and teeth. She was feeling insanely lightheaded as she managed to breathe out, "We – we shouldn't be doing this."

Her eyes clenched shut as Regina moved her attention to her ear, nibbling and biting and – oh God. She tangled her fingers deeper into Regina's hair.

"Don't care," Regina muttered breathlessly against her skin.

Emma drew her thighs together for some added friction, but when her eyes fluttered open and saw her hand curled in dark locks, she froze.

"What the hell are we doing?" Emma rushed out and tried to gather her concentration. She tugged lightly at Regina's hair until the sensation of teeth faded away into cool air, breaking the connection as Regina pulled back and tossed her a smoldering look.

Even in the dark, Emma could make out the latest touches of their impromptu make-out session in Regina's swollen lips. Her normally perfectly coiffed hair was now disheveled from the constant tugging, and it was so unbelievably sexy that Emma had to fight the urge to run her hand through it again.

"Emma," Regina sighed almost impatiently, but the lust was evident in her voice, and everywhere else for that matter; if her ragged breathing was anything to go by. Dark eyes flickered up to meet hers and finally, so hoarsely it brought a shiver to waltz down Emma's spine, she spoke. "Just fuck me."

Emma's eyebrows spiked up to her hairline, but the surprise did nothing to alleviate the unfathomable surge of heat pouring southward. She barely had a moment to catch her breath before she was leaning over and kissing Regina hard again, swallowing the throaty moan rumbling in her chest. Regina greeted the kiss in equal fervor as she clutched Emma's shoulders possessively and stroked her tongue over the blonde's.

Emma snaked her arms around Regina's back and sat up, pulling the older woman up with her in a somewhat clumsy attempt to tear off the thick, expensive fabric blocking her from more important things. But the more she tugged at the buttons, the more agitated she grew, and finally she surrendered to Regina's intruding fingertips colliding with hers.

"Take this off," Emma demanded gruffly, to which Regina responded with a glare before complying, hastily unbuttoning her coat in the midst of frosty air.

Emma was all too aware of how cold it really was as she roughly jerked out of her own jacket and tossed it to the side. The scarf went next, leaving her exposed to the frigid air hitting her skin from where her shirt had slid off her left shoulder.

Shivering, Emma peered up in time to catch a glimpse of a toned stomach in Regina's haste to tug her sweater over her head, and Emma plunged right back in, connecting their lips in a fiery smack before Regina could even yank the rest of the sleeve off her arm.

The kiss was more frantic this time, as though the absence of outerwear had sparked another desire; the need to feel Regina's skin against her own and swallow her whole. Emma's mouth traced the fine contours of Regina's jawline, nipping gently at the flesh as she trailed a path down the other woman's neck and began to kiss, suck, and lick the tender skin, and relished the quiet, desperate sound trembling deep in Regina's throat.

Her hands found their way back to Regina's sides, clutching them tightly and holding her firmly in place. But as it turned out, it was a fruitless task as Regina began to roll her hips forward, rocking them steadily into Emma's pelvis, and whatever semblance of control was quickly thrown out the window.

Dragging her hands down Emma's back, Regina tugged at the seam of the blonde's shirt before shifting the material over, unhooking Emma's bra clasp and allowing the straps to fall over her shoulders. They met their resistance at the sleeves of her shirt, and Emma broke their contact to help her. She yanked the material over her head, alongside her bra, fully revealing herself to the former Queen.

As soon as the cold air drifted over her breasts, Emma's nipples hardened, the bubble of excitement welling in her stomach only growing when Regina's sultry gaze raked up the exposed flesh in front of her.

Emma hated herself for the sudden bout of insecurity crushing her insides right then. She could hardly remember the last time she'd been intimate with someone; long before she arrived to Storybrooke, that's for sure, but even then she preferred the comfort of her own clothes.

"So," she started hesitantly, quenching the self-conscious urge to cover herself from Regina's probing eyes. "You like?"

"Hmm," Regina purred in the affirmative, stroking her palms over the blonde's taut abdomen. Her hands glided easily over heated flesh before resting over Emma's breasts, cupping the soft mounds between her fingers. "Very much."

Emma didn't bother holding back her groan when Regina ran her thumbs experimentally over the peaks and squeezed them just a little harder. The pressure heightened and pooled in her core, eliciting a choked gasp as the fingers were instantly replaced with a hot tongue.

Emma stilled her movements for the moment in order to bask in the sensation. Hugging the brunette as close to her chest as possible, she released a hiss as Regina's teeth grazed over a dusky nipple, bringing it forth into her mouth while fingernails scratched down the valley between Emma's breasts. It was in retaliation that Emma forcibly hoisted a hand beneath Regina's blouse and pulled, breaking several buttons in the process.

Regina immediately arched back with a withering glare. "You did not just –"

But Emma silenced her with another kiss, latching her mouth over red, puffy lips and kissing Regina until she couldn't breathe, until her head was spinning and even then she refused to pull back. Her teeth chattered to the cool air laying goosebumps over her bare skin, and Emma's first instinct was to maneuver herself over Regina's form as she sought for warmth.

"Sorry," Emma panted in reference to the buttons, even though she wasn't very sorry at all.

Regina hardened her face with a simple humph, but otherwise gave no indication of caring in the least as she clutched madly at Emma's shoulder blades and attacked her neck. A contented sigh rolled off Emma's tongue, momentarily distracting her from the task at hand. But she pushed away the shocks of pleasure to focus on the blouse riding up Regina's torso, ending just below the swells of her bra-clad chest and revealing the slightly glistening skin of her toned stomach.

Licking her lips, Emma wasted no time and bunched the seam of the fabric higher, urging Regina to do away with it, which she did with seconds to spare as Emma reached behind her and unclasped the lace bra. Emma only had a second to glance at the full, perky breasts before her, her knees buckling with the entrancing vision, before crashing into Regina and nearly crying out loud when their torsos collided, skin to skin. And it was just so… warm.

Regina was so warm, and Emma didn't think she would ever get over the feeling.

Regina's satisfied little hum was immediately devoured as Emma reached around and grabbed hold of the brunette's ass in her palms, pulling her hips into her own, and inhaling the strangled breath falling from Regina's lips. Emma's own breath snagged in the back of her throat with every thrust met in the midst of feverishly rolling hips and –

God. Everything was so warm.

Emma's fingers moved without permission from her scattered thoughts – or lack thereof – as she slipped a hand between them and, with one hard yank, the button on Regina's trousers was undone. The motion jerked Regina upward and tighter into Emma's body, and it was with a particularly rough shove into her pelvis that the blonde released Regina's lips and groaned into the older woman's neck.

Peppering kisses down the length of Regina's throat, Emma kept her face buried in the crook between neck and shoulder as she shoved her hand into the restrictive material and cupped the heated flesh just over Regina's panties. The lace fabric was soaked for reasons Emma still couldn't comprehend, and didn't bother to when Regina was making all these little sounds beneath her and it was making her dizzy with arousal. Her center throbbed consistently with their ragged pants, with the trembling fingers coaxing Emma's hand further against the wet mound.

Wrenching the pants down just enough so that they clung to Regina's thighs, Emma didn't waste another second before plunging her hand past the waistband of the panties and slipping a finger into the brunette's slick folds.

Regina's husky moan was cut off with a kiss, a clash of tongue and teeth as her hips bucked high into the air and bumped violently into Emma's. Emma tightened her grip around the curve of Regina's waist, digging her fingernails into the soft flesh as her other hand worked its way into the woman's folds. Focusing the pressure on Regina's clit, Emma rubbed gentle circles over the pulsing nub, moving slowly but purposely as she watched the reactions etch across Regina's face.

Her forehead fell against Regina's, the older woman's lips parting in a silent plea as her heavy breaths tickled Emma's face.

"Inside," was whispered into Emma's ear, and it was only a second of hesitation where her heart soared that Emma quickly digested the command and slid her fingers into slick heat.

The harsh gasp was instantaneous, sinking into a low moan as Regina pulled the blonde flush against her and began to grind herself in time with Emma's thrusts. This time it was Regina's turn to bury her face in between muffled cries, clamping her teeth into Emma's shoulder while the younger woman quickened her pace. She twisted her fingers inside of Regina and leveled them at an upward angle, deep as they would go until her knuckles were kept from going any further.

It was so quiet in the room, with nothing but their shallow breathing and frantic movements to accompany the otherwise chilly silence. The occasional breathy moan remained trapped within the confines of their writhing bodies. And despite the storm raging on outside, it almost seemed like nothing else mattered.

Regina's chest was heaving, her nipples scraping against Emma's with every rise and fall of her chest, and with further purpose Emma directed her focus on Regina's clit once more, feeling the air leave her body when Regina jerked her forward and brought her in for a desperate kiss. And it was there that every ounce of passion was poured within the depths of their tangled limbs. Regina stiffened beneath her, and Emma held her as the brunette clenched around her fingers and threw her head back in a shuddered whimper.

Emma watched her fall from her peak with unabashed interest, fascination and awe. As scared as she was to admit it, she had never seen Regina look more beautiful than she did at that moment; her lips swollen and bruised, parted with each silent cry, and her eyes fluttered shut in absolute bliss until they snapped open to meet Emma's.

Slowly, Emma slid her fingers out, feeling the breath in her chest constrict when Regina's notoriously sharp gaze followed the movement. It latched onto Emma's face, black with lust – and possibly a bout of something resembling affection – when suddenly Regina pushed at her shoulders, urging Emma to fall back into the other side of the chair.

Regina's smirk was coy and cat-like as she pinned the blonde by her hips, her face dangerously close to Emma's waistline before placing an open-mouthed kiss just above her navel.

"My turn."

Rays of sunlight trickled in from the windows when Emma awoke, chasing away any semblance of rest from her sleep-deprived mind. The first thing she noticed was the soreness in between her thighs, where just hours before she had them wrapped around a certain brunette's head before exhaustion had taken them both.

The second thing she noticed was that the still-warm space beside was vacant, though she could vividly recall the merits of having a naked body slumped against her throughout the rest of the night. Specifically Regina's naked body, and so it came to a surprise to Emma when her sleepy stare moved and found the woman's silhouette surrounding the window frame across the room.

Emma sat up to catch a better look at her expression; Regina's olive-toned features were set in a stoic frown as she stared out the window. She was fully dressed, donned in a sweater and what Emma thought must've been her jeans, and looking too pensive to realize Emma was even awake.

But she must have already known, because without glancing up, Regina's voice shot through her thoughts. "Your phone has been buzzing all morning."

Emma cleared her throat, hoarse from the night's events, before gathering the blanket around her and leaving the chair. Her bare feet padded across the floor as she reached for her phone, still lying on the ground from when it slipped from her grasp and skittered several feet away. Gazing at it now, Emma noted the many missed phone calls listed across the screen; some from her parents and Henry, others from various residents she had no idea she had listed in her contacts. The majority, however, were from Neal.

"I suppose this means Baelfire is on his way to play hero," Regina muttered in a distinctly bitter tone, resting her chin over her knuckles to appear impassive.

Emma stared blankly at the older woman as it dawned on her how utterly stupid she'd been for not seeing it before. It all made sense now; the hostility, the vendetta Regina held for both Hook and Neal, and the phone-hiding that all led up to this very moment. Emma had thought it was nothing personal – simply Regina's way of expressing her intense hatred for… well, everything. But it was. Personal, that is, and Emma had no idea what she intended to do about it.

All she knew was that it had felt far too intimate than anything she'd experienced in years. And looking at Regina now, with her hair tousled and her face bright in the sunlight, she was still so beautiful, and it tugged at Emma's heartstrings like nothing else.

Setting aside her priorities for now, Emma placed her phone back where she'd found it and took slow strides towards the window. She was practically skating on thin ice as she seated herself in front of Regina, cupping the brunette's hand in her own before drawing the knuckles to her lips in a scarily intimate – albeit cheesy – gesture.

It worked either way though, as Regina's puzzled eyes lurched upward and clamped onto Emma's.

The bewilderment clouded and morphed into shock as Emma shifted gears and pressed her lips over Regina's inner wrist, just over the pulse point, feeling it flutter against her mouth.

"Tell me something about you," Emma said, peering up to find Regina regarding her curiously.

"Don't you mean Henry?" Regina questioned, face softening as Emma repeated the gesture on her wrist.

Emma shook her head. "No. You."

Leaning closer until she could feel the ends of brown hair tickle her cheek, Emma tucked a strand behind Regina's ear before kissing the line of skin just below. Regina's breath hitched audibly in her throat.

"What do you wish to know?" Regina added in a wavering tone.

"Anything," Emma answered, shrugging her shoulders, before trailing her lips down a slender neck. "What's your favorite color?"

"Really, dear?" Regina scoffed, but her breathing was labored, and she curled a hand into Emma's hair to tug her closer. "It's green."

Humming against Regina's skin, Emma pulled back. "Why green?"

Regina gave her a meaningful look. "Does there have to be a reason?"

"I guess not," Emma reluctantly agreed, though she couldn't quite shake off the feeling that that response was worth more than Regina was letting on. "What else?"

"I enjoy my coffee black."

"Figures," Emma mumbled, smiling a little as she closed the remaining gap between them. The kiss was different this time, soft and tentative rather than the lustful turmoil that strung them together in the course of the night. Emma could get used to this.

"Something else."

"I…" And at that point Regina trailed off, a distant fog enveloping her features as she began to absently trace circles over Emma's hipbone. "I have not felt this –" Some hesitation followed her next words, proceeding with a haggard breath. "…Content," she admitted finally, "in a very long time."

It was a statement bearing more weight than anything Emma could've imagined, and frankly it was terrifying. But it didn't stop the small, effortless smile from gracing Emma's face, because hell. Any distorted notions she might have had about fairytales and happy endings didn't account for any of this, and somehow Emma couldn't bring herself to care.

She was always more of a realist anyway.

"Yeah," Emma agreed in a whisper, their fingers unknowingly meeting between them before they laced together. "Me neither."