I've been feeling a little burnt out and that led me to the decision that it's time to get new ideas flowing. I've been sitting on this one for a while now, so I thought that I would record it and turn it into a fic. If you are familiar with my writing you've probably already guessed that this one is going to be heart wrenching. But, I promise to deliver a beautiful love story.

Regina's voice can be heard, coming from the direction of the walk-in closet. "Why does your mother always insist on throwing these stupid parties?"

As Emma slides a well-tailored white blouse over toned arms and meticulously begins securing its tiny buttons, starting at the top, just below the collar, she responds, "I don't know, maybe because she has the most beautiful daughter-in-law in the world."

Regina pokes her head out for a moment, to make certain that Emma sees her stern expression. "Emma, I'm serious."

Obviously her wife is in no mood for jokes this evening. Even though they have a particularly playful relationship most of the time, Regina's hormones have been getting the best of her, as of late. Emma decides to take a different approach, staying focused on an easy target. "You know how much this means to Mom. She wanted to do something special for us." "It gives her life," Emma adds, as she dons a sleek black blazer. She opted to wear one of Regina's pant-suits tonight instead of the skin-tight cocktail dress she had been saving for a special occasion. An evening out with her wife would be reason enough. But, under the circumstances, Emma thought it would be best to dress modestly. Regina has been feeling especially insecure about her body during the last few weeks.

The regal woman's expression is somber as she steps out of the walk-in closet in a floor-length, black, v-neck, sleeveless, empire waist, jersey dress. "Nothing fits me anymore, not even my shoes because my feet are swollen."

The blonde woman is still surprised by how often her incredible wife can take her breath away.

Regina voices an unsettling observation. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

Emma hesitates before speaking, unable to compose a response worthy of this vision before her. Her voice cracks, "Is that what you're wearing?"

The older woman's heart sinks. "You hate it," she assumes and returns to the closet to search for a better option for that evening.

"Wait, no! That's not what I meant." The blonde woman gently grasps Regina's hand to stop her. "Baby, please," she soothes. "Are you kidding me?" She holds Regina's hand next to her beating heart and with her free hand she lightly brushes brown hairs out of Regina's eyes, which are now brimming with tears. "You got this especially for tonight?"

Regina doesn't understand why she is so moved by this humble gesture. Until that moment, with her lover gazing into her eyes and the feel of this woman's heartbeat beneath her palm, she is suddenly and painfully aware of the fragility of life. "I bought it for you." She sniffs.

"For me?" Emma Swan is still not used to being so important to another person. All she ever wanted to be, her whole life, was enough. Now, not only is she enough, she is everything to Regina.

The queen attempts to mask her fear with irritation. "Yes, you," she scolds. "How many other wives do you think I have?"

Emma captures her queen in a strong embrace, silently communicating her endless devotion.

Instantly melting in her lovers arms, Regina realizes that she had been entirely unaware of how tense she was. Over the past several hours, her anxiety had grown, becoming increasingly burdensome.

Emma admits her innocent blunder. "I'm sorry I made you think that I didn't like it."

The queen only hugs her wife tighter in response.

The young sheriff continues, "I don't deserve you or your beautiful dress."

At that, Regina stands at attention. Grasping Emma's face with both hands, she expresses her gratitude for the most supportive spouse she could ever hope for.

Though the younger woman thoroughly enjoyed the kiss, if the pool in her underwear is any indication, she knows Regina well enough to discern that something is still bothering her. She holds her queen in a comforting embrace and continues to shower her with compliments, "I have never seen you look more beautiful than you do right now."

"You're a terrible liar," Regina detects, giggling at the ridiculousness of her wife's comment. "But, I love you for trying." The adoration in her eyes is unmistakable.

"Hey, I meant what I said," Emma reiterates. But when she notices her wife's shy behavior, she inquires, "Are you feeling alright?"

Regina recognizes that there is no use hiding her feelings from her very perceptive wife. "I don't think we should go to the party," she admits.

The older woman's sudden reluctance is reason for concern. "What's wrong?"

The queen openly explains, "I'm not feeling very well."

Emma's worry is amplified. She never wants the love of her life to feel discomfort of any sort, if she can help it. "Are you sick?"

"No." Regina tries to articulate the nagging feeling. "I just…" She struggles to find the correct words. "Something's not right."

The blonde woman's eyes widen in horror. "Is it the baby?" The alarm is evident in her voice, as she places protective hands over her beloved wife's belly.

"The baby's fine," Regina assures. She knows how worried Emma gets when it comes to their unborn child. The queen lightly rests her own hands over the blonde woman's in order to calm her. "Emma, she's fine."

The younger woman breathes a sigh of relief.

Just thinking about her little girl fills Emma with peace and happiness. She kneels in front of Regina so that her face is even with her wife's belly. Her expression changes to one of contentment when she feels her child stir beneath her fingers. "Hi peanut. I love you. Mommy loves you, baby." She places a feathery kiss over the spot where she had just felt her baby move.

The queen noticeably brightens as a grateful smile spreads across her face. The tenderness displayed by the woman she loves fills the brunette woman with more joy than the former Evil Queen ever imagined possible. "Emma," she whispers.

The younger woman rises to a standing position. "I love you too, baby," she replies, sealing her conviction with a chaste kiss upon waiting lips.

Automatically, the couple joins hands as if this was a finely choreographed dance they had performed many times. The regal woman attempts to distract herself from any remnants of dread. "You know we really need to start thinking of possible names for her," she informs.

"But, I like peanut," the younger woman teases. "And baby girl already knows it's her name." Emma is well aware that the casualness of the name drives her very proper wife crazy.

Honestly the teasing is a welcomed distraction. "I am not letting you name our daughter after a legume," Regina warns. Though her intention was to sound stern in her conviction, her delivery was rather lighthearted.

Recognizing that her wife is just a big softy, Emma knows that she can get away with what she says next. "Okay, fine. But that's still going to be her nickname."

Sometimes Regina has a hard time letting go. She inhales deeply. "I want to wait until we meet her before we decide anything."

And sometimes Emma doesn't know when to quit. "Do I at least get to be part of picking out her name?" She was only joking, but lately Regina has been taking everything as a personal slight. The blonde woman instantly regrets that last comment when she notices tears welling in Regina's eyes.

"Of course you do. She's your child," Regina sorrowfully explains, trying to correct what she believes to be a horrible mistake. "I just thought that we should meet her first," is all that she can manage before breaking down.

"Hey. Hey. It's okay. I was only joking." The blonde woman secures her arms around Regina's trembling form and begins rocking her gently in an effort to calm her. "Oh, baby, I'm sorry." She should have known better than to play with her hormonal wife's emotions in such a manner. When she feels Regina calming, she continues. "I think that waiting until we meet her is a great idea."

Regina brightens at Emma's sincerity and straightens up to meet her favorite blue eyes.

"Anything you wish, my queen," the younger woman confirms.

Regina spontaneously blushes and catches her bottom lip between her teeth. Only Emma has ever or could ever make her feel so special.

"Do you feel better?"

"No," the queen regretfully admits. "I still don't think that we should leave this house." Regina turns to walk over to the bed that they share, still holding on to Emma's hand to guide her. She settles her weight on the mattress, relieved to be off her feet.

Sensing that Regina's swollen feet are probably bothering her, Emma lifts her wife's legs onto the bed, in order to elevate them. Regina automatically rests her back against the mountain of pillows arranged in front of the headboard, so that she is comfortably propped.

"That feels better," she confirms.

"You just needed to get off them for a while," Emma detects, beginning to massage her wife's feet, now cradled in her lap.

After a minute of comfortable silence, Regina takes a chance. "Would you be upset if we didn't go tonight?"

The younger woman hesitates before responding. She knows that it wouldn't be right for her to argue with the woman who is carrying her child, though the disappointment is evident in her expression. "What's important to me is your comfort."

Regina's expression softens. She is thoroughly moved by Emma's selflessness.

Choosing not to linger in self-pity and meeting her lover's eyes, the younger woman continues confidently, "It doesn't matter what I want."

"Yes it does." The queen is suddenly animated. "Emma," Regina encourages. "Do you want to go to the party?"

"I know its lame," Emma recognizes, "but I was actually looking forward to it."

Regina smiles warmly. How could she deny the woman she loves such an innocent request. "Then we'll go," she happily grants.

"Regina, it's okay," Emma assures. "We don't—"

"Yes, we do," the regal woman articulates. "This is a relationship Emma, not a dictatorship." When she notices Emma avoiding her eyes in embarrassment, the queen encourages, "Honey." She reaches out, silently requesting the younger woman's hand. "Marriage means compromise and I realize that I was being unreasonable before."

Emma lightly squeezes Regina's hand in grateful response. "Do you know how amazing you are?"

Amplifying the lure, Regina tempts, "Would you care to remind me?"

Emma licks her lips in anticipation and casually removes the stifling fitted jacket. She slowly crawls, similarly to a tiger, toward the headboard until she meets Regina's waiting lips. "You are," she kisses her, "the most," she kisses her again, "incredible," again, "sexiest," again "woman," the kiss is longer this time, "I have ever met." Regina reciprocates the gesture with a deepening kiss of her own and wraps her arms around Emma's neck to hold her in place. "And, you're even sexier now," Emma adds, raking her eyes over Regina's reclined form.

"Hemorrhoids don't exactly make me feel sexy," Regina coyly admits.

Holding her lover's gaze, Emma proclaims, "You're carrying my baby. There is nothing sexier than that."

Regina kisses her wife again, relishing the love passing between them. When they break for air, Regina holds the younger woman's face in her hands, tantalizingly petting her with her fingers. "Happy anniversary," the queen whispers.

"Happy anniversary," Emma replies. She begins kissing her woman again, this time trailing her kisses along Regina's neck. "I hope you won't be too tired to celebrate with me, later tonight."

The feel of her lover's hot breath against her skin makes the queen tingle. "As a matter of fact," she begins, but has to gulp before continuing. "I have something very special planned."

Regina feels the younger woman's mouth move to her collarbone. "Is Henry still sleeping at my parents'?"

"I spoke with your mother this afternoon," Regina breathlessly replies, desperate for more contact. Thankfully, the queen feels Emma slide the strap of her dress, bra-strap included, off her shoulder and the kisses grow more eager as the younger woman focuses on the area above her left breast.

"So, what do you have planned?"

"You couldn't handle it if I told you," the queen flirts.

Emma straightens up to meet warm brown orbs. "You have no idea what you do to me."

The queen is completely enamored with her flushed wife. She assures, "I know exactly what I'm going to do to you tonight."

"This feels like our honeymoon again," Emma notes.

"Then my plan worked splendidly," Regina comments.

Emma proceeds to kiss her wife with a renewed passion, to which Regina eagerly responds.

"I seriously need you to be naked right now," Emma divulges.

Regina breathlessly asks, "You still find me desirable?"

The stimulated woman only hums against Regina's soft lips.

"This dress comes off," the queen informs, eagerly granting Emma access to her waiting body.

Emma grins in anticipation and effortlessly removes the seductive garment. "Holy Shit," she exclaims, turned on beyond comprehension by the fact that her wife opted not to wear underpants.

"Shhhhh! Henry's still home," Regina playfully scolds. Though she tries to sound stern, there is no disguising her silly smile.

"Henry's downstairs, he won't hear us," Emma informs. "Besides, you can't go commando and expect me to not have a heart attack."

Normally a joke such as this would not be reason for concern. However, it turns out to be that absolute worst joke Emma Swan could possibly have made that evening.

Regina suddenly becomes rigid, entirely paralyzed by fear and proceeds to cry softly. "No," she begs an invisible force.

"What?" The younger woman is entirely confused by her wife's protest.

But Regina is too far gone. She is completely consumed by the image of her wife's lifeless body lying face up on the ground. She can clearly see that the younger woman's eyes are fixed in place, straight ahead, as if she had been stunned, her skin is as pale as her top and she is void of breath. Regina loses all composure and begins to weep.

Nothing scares Emma more than hearing the strongest woman she has ever met cry. "Regina?" She tries again to get the older woman's attention. "Regina, what happened?"

The distraught woman articulates through her sobbing, "You're not having a heart attack."

When Emma feels the older woman grip her shoulders and begin crying harder, she panics. "Hey. Hey, it's okay. Everything's alright." She begins to evenly rock the upset woman in an effort to soothe her. "I was only kidding." As soon as she says it, the younger woman realizes that it won't be that easy to make this situation right. She wraps the crying woman in a strong, yet, tender embrace. "I just meant," she begins, though she is entirely at a loss for right words. "Regina, I," she stops again. What is she going to say? She has to make things right between them. "I didn't think before I spoke." "I'm sorry you married an idiot." That comment was not meant to be directed toward Regina. However, the younger woman is entirely grateful that it came out that way.

The queen cannot stop the tiny laugh that escapes her quivering lips. She is still too shaken to make light of a terrifying premonition. "Emma." She can only manage a whisper.

"I'm sorry," the younger woman laments and places a tender kiss on her traumatized wife's forehead.

Regina is still not ready to lose contact with the woman she loves, but the last thing she wants is to unnecessarily alarm Emma. She straightens up in the younger woman's arms in order to meet her eyes. "There's no need to apologize," she confidently assures. How can she tell this woman the truth? How can she tell her what she saw? She doesn't even know if it's real after all. The surroundings were unclear, but she will never forget that look on her beloved's face. She knows that what she saw didn't really happen; this woman is sitting in front of her. She registers Emma's warm skin beneath her fingertips. She is not the cold corpse from her premonition. Still, the queen feels as though she came so close to losing her. "You are the sweetest, most caring, kindest spouse I could ask for."

Emma wraps her arms more securely around the shaken woman. "I love you, Regina."

"I love you too," she whispers in return, kissing Emma's bicep in appreciation.

When the older woman finally composes, Emma admits. "I hate that I mad you cry."

Regina cradles Emma's face in her hand, deeply saddened by this woman's sullen expression. "You are so good Emma. You're my best-friend, my protector, my confidante, and my wife. You have been nothing but wonderful to me." She feels Emma's hand lightly grasp her wrist. "I can't bear the thought of losing you."

"You are not going to lose me," the younger woman assures. "I promise. I'm not going anywhere." She kisses her queen again.

"Can we just stay home?" Regina innocently requests.