Title: Where You Belonged

Author: AoN

Word Count: 5,400

Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort

Rating: T

Summary: [Crossover/AU] With a future she never imagined having with Regina and Henry, Emma tries not to think about her past very much. A trip to the West Coast for Henry's sake, however, forces Emma to come to terms with the one time she nearly allowed happiness to get the better of her: her short stay with the Fosters family.

Notes: Once Upon a Time/The Fosters crossover. In regard to both series, this fic takes place two years after their respective first seasons, as if The Fosters began at the same time as Once Upon a Time. Furthermore, in regard to Once Upon a Time, the curse was not real. Also, thanks to tumblr users witchpieceoftoast and alwaysatrombonist for being wonderful betas and for entertaining this idea with me.

Regardless of the fact that the two of them have not only been seeing each other for a while now, but also that they lived together, the text messages Emma received from Regina, about any matter, were always so formal. Without looking up from her paperwork on her desk, Emma reached out for her phone, wincing at the high-pitched tone that broke the silence of the empty sheriff station. There were plenty of cases where Emma had not been sure if there was an emergency to attend to or not. Such was the case with the message glowing from her cellphone screen:

Please come home for dinner tonight. Your son wishes to speak with you.

Any other stylistic structure just wouldn't be Regina. In all reality, Emma should worry if even a hint of text speak were present. In that case, it would seem that someone probably stole Regina's cellphone – not that anyone in their right mind would steal anything from Regina.

Frown tugging at the corners of her lips, Emma momentarily abandoned the paperwork. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk as she studied the text message.

Did Henry manage to land himself in trouble at school? To Emma's knowledge, he had not been acting out; he hadn't for a couple years now, not since the series of events that lead Emma to Storybrooke in the first place. Well, if he did get into some sort of trouble, Regina would have contacted her hours ago when he came home from school earlier in the afternoon, or whenever Regina, herself, received the call from the principal's office, right?

Emma sent back her response: okay. everything good?

Placing her now silenced phone down, Emma leaned back against her chair as she stared down at the paperwork that had collected over the last couple of weeks. When she woke up this morning, Emma had every intention of finally tackling the stack, even if it meant staying at the station a bit late, just as she had told Regina this morning. A bit of procrastination had delayed it this far, it could wait one day more, right?

The phone vibrated loudly against her desk: Yes, everything is fine. There is nothing to worry about.

Emma envisioned Regina realizing how her previous text message might have sounded to her rather oblivious partner. They had previously discussed how the two of them came across via written words: Regina, sometimes, came across as regal, scornful principal (many of which Emma crossed in her day), and, well, Emma, most of the time, was no better than Henry (except she totally was – there were times Emma, let alone Regina, could not decipher Henry's text).

"Nothing to worry about, hmm?" Emma mumbled to herself as she sent back another message, indicating that she would be home soon.

She stuffed her phone back into her jeans pocket and, with a heavy sigh, she pushed herself up from her office chair. Emma fetched her keys from her top draw, along with her gloves, scarf, and winter hat. She began to bundle herself up in order to brace for the Maine winter that was eagerly waiting for her outside of the station, as well as the bitter cold ride home in her old VW Beetle.

For as long as Emma had it, the vehicle's central air system had not worked. Throughout the years, she never really thought about having it fixed, not when paychecks, as infrequent as they were most of the time, were often needed for other reasons. Nowadays, she could afford the mechanic, but the cost to repair everything outweighed the value of the car itself. As both the mechanic and Regina had told her, she may as well purchase another vehicle – something, perhaps that wouldn't endanger the life of their son. Regina even suggested one of the newer Beetle models, if she so wished.

But a part of her just couldn't let go of the bug, as silly as it sounded. Since she got out of jail over a decade ago, that car was the one constant she had through all the instability. Emma wasn't ready to let go of that yet, even if she did currently find herself in a stable job and home, and in an unparalleled relationship. In all reality, life had never been better for her, but Emma still found herself unable to let go of that part of her past just yet. The car still ran, didn't it? As long as she was able to drive it, why should she get rid of it?

As Emma pushed the back door leading to the employee parking of the government building open, she winced slightly and her eyes watered from the stinging cold wind. This wasn't her first Maine winter, or her first winter in general, but she did miss those 'winters' where she was able to sit and relax on the beach, wearing shorts and a tank top. Those 'winters' have long since passed, replaced by warm fireplaces, apple ciders, and fluffy blankets; these winters were equally as good, once she looked past the thermometer.

With the door closing behind her, clicking as it automatically locked, Emma shuffled her way through the powder snow towards the distinct yellow bug. As she reached out to unlock the driver's door, the keys slipped through her gloved fingers, landing in the freshly fallen snow.

"Dammit," Emma mumbled behind her scarf, under her breath. Maybe her next car would have one of those automatic un-locker thingies. Those seemed like they would be a tad bit useful and more convenient.

xxxx

After entering the house through the front door, Emma, teeth chattering, hopped in place in an attempt to regain some warmth in her body. Hopefully, these freezing temperatures would not last much longer. The last couple of winters had been mild, though, so she didn't expect much.

"Emma?" she heard Regina's voice carry from the kitchen and into the foyer.

"Yeah!" Emma called back, pulling off her gloves and stuffing them into the pockets of her coat, which she then unzipped. "In here," she unnecessarily added, hanging her coat on the racket between Henry's and Regina's.

She heard footsteps drawing closer and closer. A gentle tug on her scarf caused Emma to grin crookedly. As she turned around, Emma felt arms snake their way around her waist. When she came face-to-face with Regina, Emma's grin only grew, matching her thin smile. Emma leaned forward to place a small peck against Regina's lips.

"Really, dear, that metal deathtrap of yours-"

"I know, I know," Emma interrupted, rolling her eyes slightly.

"You come home everyday freezing-"

"Not every day! And I have you to warm me up," Emma quickly pointed out.

"At least consider bringing home the patrol car tomorrow?" Regina suggested. "It will be colder and you'll be more miserable," she pointed out. "I can drive us both to work in the morning in the Mercedes. The bug can stay here."

Emma shrugged her shoulders lazily. "We'll see how tomorrow goes," she replied. "Play it by ear or whatever."

In response to Emma's clever stubbornness, Regina reached for the brim of Emma's hat and pulled it over her eyes. Emma, with a disgruntled grunt, grabbed the bonbon sitting at the top of the hat and yanked it off her head, just as Regina unraveled her scarf. They hung both articles of clothing over Emma's coat on the rack.

"So," Emma began slowly, following Regina back to the kitchen where she was still preparing the evening's dinner. Judging by the leftover ingredients lingering on the kitchen's island, Emma concluded they were perhaps having chicken parmesan. Besides Regina's lasagna, it was one of Emma's favorites. "Uh, where's Henry?"

"He's in his room. He claims he's finishing his homework, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's up there reading comic books – today's the monthly publication date for a few of his favorite titles," Regina answered, turning on the oven's internal light to peek in on her creation. "He suggested tonight's dinner," she added, turning her attention back to Emma.

Emma half nodded, eyeing her suspiciously. "But everything's fine," Emma repeated the text message that Regina had sent. Yet Henry suggested that they have one of Emma's favorite dishes for dinner tonight, the night that Regina said he wished to speak with her. Something was not adding up correctly. "Did he get into some sort of trouble in school today?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest as she watched Regina.

Regina shook her head, putting away the leftover ingredients in their proper places in the cupboard and refrigerator. "Why would you think that?" she asked in return, taking the already dirty dishes to be placed into the sink as Emma cleared the island of trash.

"You kinda made it sound like he set the teacher's grade book on fire, or something as terrible," Emma replied, leaning against the edge of the counter opposite of the oven. Not to mention, whenever Regina referred to Henry simply as 'your son,' instead of 'our son,' it normally meant that something had gone at least a tiny bit array. 'Your son left his shoes in the foyer again.' 'Your son did not take out the trash this evening.' However, it was always, without a doubt, 'our son got straight As again this semester.' 'Our son made us breakfast this morning.' Emma did not know what to expect at this point.

"But everything's fine?" Emma repeated a part of Regina's text. Henry was fast approaching his teenage years and, based on all the comedies that Emma enjoyed, she assumed they would probably be in for a rough ride. Did it already start, a year early? That just wasn't fair, at all. Was this the beginning of having a moody, irritable teenaged son? If Emma had to be absolutely honest: she really was not ready for that kind of thing. Why couldn't he have stayed a ten year old?

"Set the teacher's grade book on fire?" Regina repeated, looking up from the dishes she had decided to tackle, in order to glance at Emma with raised eyebrows. "Where on earth would you get an idea like that? Don't tell me you managed to do something like that, Emma."

"Not exactly 'something like that,'" Emma mumbled under her breath, shifting back and forth on her feet.

"Pardon?"

"Err, well, exactly that," Emma spoke up so that Regina could actually hear her this time. "I've kinda done something… well, something exactly like that."

"You've managed to set one of your teacher's grade book on fire?" Regina questioned, not entirely surprised by the new revelation. Not that she should be. There was a single reason why their kitchen was once again sans a microwave: there had been a fire, one caused by a spark from a carelessly forgotten fork inside of the appliance that Regina did not favor. Henry thought it was cool; Regina was less than amused.

"It was in my science class at my second – no, third high school. I think in, uh, chemistry?" Emma recalled. "You know what, it's a bit of a long story."

"Is it now?"

"…no, not really," Emma admitted with a small shrug. "He was walking around the different lab stations and when he got to mine, I knocked the bunsen burner over. It could have happened to anyone, you know."

She watched as Regina's smile turned into a faint smirk. Of course it could have happened to anyone. Of course. "Right, so, is the table set?" Emma asked.

Regina shook her head. "Not yet," she answered. "Perhaps you can go upstairs, dear, and ask Henry yourself?"

"And is this the part where I talk to him?"

"You are quite correct, dear."

"You're not going to tell me what he did, are you?"

"He didn't do anything, Emma," Regina replied honestly. "And, truth be told, the two of us already discussed the matter. I told him that he needed to ask you as well. We are no longer a family of two. Everyone needs to be considered, isn't that right?"

Emma's smile could not help but grow wider, and her cheeks a light pink. No longer a family of two, she repeated to herself. "Well, okay, then," she mumbled, followed by a meek laugh. She suddenly felt a bit silly.

"Don't tell me I've rendered our dear sheriff speechless," Regina teased.

"Of course not!" Emma pushed herself away from the edge of the counter and then walked around the island to Regina. Emma came up behind Regina and rested her chin against Regina's shoulder. "But I think you kinda admitted that you love me," she teased in return.

"It wouldn't be the first time, dear," Regina smirked, tilting her head to rest against Emma's. "After all, why else would I keep you around? You're not exactly kitchen appliance friendly."

"No, I'm not," Emma agreed, pulling away slightly. Regina turned in time to see Emma's eyes narrow and her now sly smirk. "That's definitely not the reason why you keep me around, Madam Mayor."

"I supposed you're right, Miss Swan," Regina said softly.

"Sheriff Swan," Emma corrected, leaning in for another kiss.

"Mmhmm, go talk to your son, sheriff."

xxxx

So it was nothing bad, that much they had settled, but what it was they were to talk about was still a mystery. But everything was fine, Emma reminded herself. Henry wasn't in trouble. He rarely got himself into trouble, considering that he was Emma's who upheld a rather impressive track record when it came to trouble making, but he was raised to be well behaved by his mother.

Emma lingered outside of Henry's bedroom door, still trying to figure out what it was exactly they could possibly talk about, what it was that she had to brace for, but her mind was drawing a blank. She'd just have to cling onto the fact that it wasn't bad and it was something that needed to be discussed with everyone in the family.

Finally, realizing that Henry probably heard her at least come down the hall, if not up the stairs, Emma knocked on his door. Her knock received a 'come in!' in response. Emma turned the handle of the door and pushed it open, just in time to see Henry, who was laid back on his bed, flip the book in his hand from upside down to right side up. She bit back a smile as she stepped inside. Henry sat up and placed the book aside on his nightstand.

"Hey, kid."

"Hey, yourself."

"How's the homework coming along?" Emma asked, sitting down on the edge of the mattress next to him. "Your mom said you still had a little bit left to do."

"I'm almost all done," Henry confirmed.

"Impressive," Emma commented. "So, are they making everyone read upside down nowadays?"

"…You saw that?" Henry frowned.

Emma forced herself to bite back a smile, but she failed miserably. "Yeah, I saw that," she nodded. "What were you really reading? Comic books?" Oh, she hoped they were comic books. "New publications? Did you stash them under your pillow?"

"How do you do that anyway?" Henry replied, pulling out a couple of issues from under the pillow, just as Emma predicted. "And don't say 'super powers,' either. I'm not ten anymore."

Taking the issues from Henry, Emma looked over the covers. "I never said that was my super power. My super power was about lying, remember?" she clarified, nonchalantly, before holding up one of the issues – X-Men. "Is this the new one? With the all female team?"

Henry shook his head. "That one doesn't come out until the summer, I think."

"Ah, okay, but you didn't come straight home today, right?"

"Well, not exactly…"

Once more, Emma found herself fighting back a smirk. "Did you read them all already?" she asked. "You know, your mom's really been looking forward to that new series in particular. You know, to preview it before you do."

"Right, preview."

Now they were both smirking. Regina wouldn't admit it, but they had concluded that she was actually a fan of some of the titles Henry read. Of course, she stuck by her excuse: she was double checking to make sure these comic books were appropriate for Henry, nothing more. Somehow, however, Regina knew about this title in particular before Henry did and had insisted that he at least check out the first issue, if anything at all.

"She doesn't know I have them," Henry admitted. "I didn't want to wait. The last issues were such cliffhangers!"

Emma looked up at him. "Then, lemme take it – the lot of them, okay? I'll tell her I picked them up on my lunch break this afternoon."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, no big deal. You'll probably get 'em back tomorrow afternoon – tomorrow evening at the latest," Emma replied with a slight shrug. "So, she said you wanted to talk to me. What's up, kid?"

Henry scooted slightly closer to Emma as he nodded. "It sort of has to do with the comic books," he answered, gesturing to the issues in Emma's hands. "And tv shows, and movies, too."

"Yeah?" Emma looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Are you saying you want to go into the entertainment business? What did your mom say?"

"No, that's not it at all!" Henry answered. "But could I?"

"You can do whatever you want, kid, and we'll be proud of you," Emma reassured. "You know, as long as it's nothing illegal. So, what is it exactly?"

"Comic Con," Henry stated.

"Comic Con?" Emma repeated. "As in, San Diego?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah, Comic Con International at San Diego!" he said. "There have all these panels for all sorts of television shows and movies. You can meet them! The actors, I mean, and the comic book creators! How cool would that be? And the sales floor – they have so much merchandise! And everyone dresses up as their favorite characters!"

"And you already talked to your mom about this?"

"Yeah, I mean," Henry began. "I asked her not to tell you cuz I wanted to tell you and everything. We used to go on these little family trips when I was younger. They really weren't too far away, thought. Like, we'd go camping in the woods around here, in one of the cabins. We really haven't done anything since she became mayor of the town. I think it'd be really cool, you know, to do this as a family and everything."

Emma nodded along as Henry spoke; she was a bit overwhelmed by his extreme enthusiasm about the event. She could just imagine him telling Regina everything – Regina probably sat through the entire thing without saying a word. She probably had secretly been just as enthused as the kid.

"And I know that it's in July and it's pretty far off since it's only the beginning of February, but the tickets go on sale next week. They can be pretty hard to get, but it would be so awesome!" Henry continued. "So, what do you think?"

"What do I think?" Emma murmured, blinking. Her mind was still stuck on the fact that this thing was in San Diego. She had spent some time there when she was younger, a few months. "It, huh, it sounds like you really want to go. What did your mom say when you told her?"

"She told me it was a good idea," Henry replied. "And that the two of you would discuss it tonight together after I asked you."

"Guess that answers it, huh? We'll talk about it tonight after dinner," Emma concluded. "Heard that you requested chicken parm."

"I had to make sure you'd say that you'd at least consider it," Henry admitted with a sly grin.

Emma shook her head, slightly glaring at him. It only caused Henry's grin to grow. The little twerp. "So, here's the thing, kid: you may want to consider setting the dining room table for dinner. It may help your odds with possible negotiations. Maybe next time ask for lasagna?"

"But we always have lasagna!"

"Just go," Emma stuttered through a laugh, reaching over to ruffle his hair.

Henry did not need to be told once more. He was quickly off his bed, on his feet, and out the door. "And finish your homework, too!" Emma called after him.

"Okay! I will!" he shouted back as he ran down the stairs.

Emma finally allowed herself to laugh a bit more openly, a bit dry and bitter, when she was certain that Henry was out of hearing range. Standing up herself, Emma grabbed the small pile of comic book issues he had purchased from the convenience shop this afternoon. She honestly hoped that this was the limit of his rebellion against his parents – wandering off to buy the comic books his mothers would have purchased for him regardless. They probably wouldn't be so lucky – this was the same kid that took off to Boston, all by himself, to find the woman who was his birth mother when he was only ten years old.

At this point, maybe they should just invest in a subscription. She looked down at them again and looked them over once more, this time frowning as she went from the Hulk vs. Wolverine, Iron-Man, and X-Men, his usual monthly titles.

Yeah, he definitely sounded excited about the whole thing. He was really into this sort of thing and to be able to go to Comic Con… To go behind the scenes of his favorite shows, his favorite hobbies. It would be so cool, they would be so cool – not that that really mattered, but it'd still be… cool. How could she possible say no? Especially after stressing that they were a family, that this would be a family trip, and it already seemed that Regina was on board with the idea. Emma had to admit; the kid was good – perhaps even too good.

But seriously, why did he have to be so set on going to the comic con in the city of San Diego, of all places? She hadn't been back there in so long, since she was… sixteen, was it? Not that she really had any intention of ever going back; she never did when any of her foster homes were involved. That was all in the past. That was where Emma wanted all of it to stay, too. Now that she had stopped running, she really didn't want to think about any of it anymore. Emma had better things to focus on, much better things: the two people downstairs, waiting to have dinner together as a family.

With a sigh, Emma made her way out of Henry's room, and off to make a quick stop to the master bedroom that she shared with Regina. She had to throw the comic books on her own nightstand to give to Regina later, before heading back downstairs herself to see if there was anything she could help with in regard to tonight's dinner.

xxxx

Comfy in her red plaid sweat pants and white tank top, Emma dragged herself from the master bath and into the bedroom, where she found a silky pajama clad Regina sitting up, leaning against the headboard. She had already helped herself to the comics from Emma's side.

As Emma made her way closer to the bed, Regina peeked up from the issue she was reading and over her reading glasses at Emma, who collapsed onto her own side of the bed.

"I picked them up for him on my lunch break," Emma said before Regina could ask. She rolled over onto her side to face Regina.

"You didn't have them with you when you came home this evening," Regina pointed out.

Emma wrapped her arms around one of her pillows, hugging it close to his chest. "… I didn't," she murmured. "Don't be too mad at him. He said something about cliffhangers."

"I'm aware of those cliffhangers."

"Of course, you are," Emma grinned. "I'm gonna give them back to him tomorrow."

"I'll give them back to him tomorrow," Regina corrected, placing her current issue on top of all of the others on her nightstand, and then her reading glasses on top of them. She turned to Emma. "He's very excited about this comic con."

"Comic Con," Emma corrected, mumbling into her pillow. "Not this comic con. Just Comic Con."

"Comic Con," Regina repeated. "What are your thoughts on the matter?"

"My thoughts on the matter? The kid's excited about it," Emma replied, lifting her head slightly. "But it's across the country in California. Has he ever been on a plane before? And aren't these type of conventions just a breeding ground of germs? Do you know how many people are going to be there?"

"We haven't made any decisions," Regina frowned, tilting her head. "But it sounds as though you are reluctant about going, Emma."

"No, I'm not," Emma quickly lied. "I'm just saying."

"What's wrong, dear?" Regina asked after a moment of silence.

Emma rolled over onto her back, still hugging her pillow close. "California.. well, fine, San Diego's kinda not my thing," she confessed, putting her pillow behind her head again. She became quiet again for a few seconds more. "That's where my last foster home was before I became an independent."

She felt Regina scoot closer to her. She had previously shared bits and pieces about her time in the foster care system, but the only thing Regina was certain was the fact that Emma was not fond of the system at all. She had been passed around from family to family; she didn't have the childhood that every kid deserved.

"Was that home," Regina began slowly, trying to be careful with how she was able to word her question. "Was it a less than desirable household in particular?"

Emma found herself scoffing. "Here's the thing: it wasn't," she responded, glancing up towards Regina with a faint smile that quickly disappeared.

"Do you wish to talk about it?"

Regina was met, once again, with silence. Emma squirmed about, trying to get comfortable, but found it rather impossible.

"You don't have to," Regina reminded.

"No, I know," Emma grumbled. "I just can't get – forget it." Frustrated, Emma sat up, crossed her legs, and leaned forward. Regina sat up as well.

"It wasn't like the other places," Emma began. "At least, not at first, but it all came down to the same thing. It always does. I was just another mouth to feed. I mean, I wasn't even supposed to be with that family in the first place. I was with another, still in San Diego, but, due to an emergency situation, I was placed with them. The caseworker said it was supposed to be temporary. Temporary kinda turned into a few months."

Emma felt Regina placed a hand on her back. Slowly, soothingly, Regina rubbed circles over Emma's back.

"I was fifteen. I was their first foster kid – these two women," Emma continued. "So needless to say, they were new to the system. I was convinced that was why they were so nice to me, because they thought they had to be."

Although Emma could not see, nor would she glance over her shoulder to confirm her suspicions, she was pretty certain that Regina was frowning, that her eyebrows had furrowed in concern. Emma did not want to see that look, a look of pity, from even her. Emma hated it.

"But looking back, they just were… they just were that nice," Emma admitted. "They already had a little kid – one from a previous marriage, or something, but they did their best to make me feel like I was part of their family, that I wasn't different. I was welcomed."

"Then why didn't you stay with them?" Regina inquired.

"Things changed," Emma answered, shrugging her shoulders. "A couple months after I showed up, a pair of twins came into the system, came into their house. They were really young and no one else would have taken the both of them, together. My foster parents at the time didn't think they should be split. They took them both in."

"That was very considerate of them."

Emma nodded. "Yeah, it was," she murmured. "Things started to get tight, especially a couple months after that, but they couldn't just abandon the twins. They wouldn't give them back, not after they had just gotten comfortable in their house. Shuffling around young kids, you know, it's kinda traumatic for them. And it's the younger kids that families prefer. I mean, who the hell wants an older kid – a teenager no less – when you can have an adorable baby?"

"Don't tell me they sent you back."

Shaking her head, Emma laid back down again. Regina hovered over her slightly, but Emma stared up at the ceiling. She tucked her arms under her head, under the pillow.

"Temporary," Regina spoke up again. "The previous situation had been resolved."

Once more, Emma shook her head. "I overheard them talking one night," she said. "They were talking about their financial situation. How difficult it was to pay the bills. I lingered just enough to hear them say that there was no way they could send the twins back. I mean, they couldn't send back their actual son so who else was there, but me?"

Feeling her eyes sting, Emma turned her head, away from Regina. She felt annoyed with herself, annoyed that this was still bothering her nearly fourteen years later. It was stupid. "I didn't need to hear it. It didn't matter if they were nice, they didn't want me. No one ever did. So, I did the only natural thing: I left and I've never been back to San Diego since."

Now it was Regina's turn to be silent. After a moment, Emma felt her lie back down on the bed and scoot close to her. Regina's arms wrapped around Emma's waist and she rested her head on Emma's shoulder. Blinking furiously, Emma turned and rested the side of her own head against the top of Regina's.

"We don't have to go, Emma," Regina pointed out. "Henry will understand if we don't."

"Understand?" Emma laughed drily. "He'd be disappointed."

Emma felt Regina sigh against her bare shoulder. It sent shivers down Emma's spine. "You said it yourself, dear," Regina said. "Do you know how many people go to this event? Or how many people live in San Diego? The chances of running into them again are astronomical at best."

"I know," Emma murmured. "And that's what I kept telling myself over and over again while Henry rambled on and on about the convention. He really wants to go."

"He does," Regina agreed.

"And it is a big city. Big event," Emma reinstated.

"It is," Regina nodded. "And this time, dear, you don't have to worry about feeling unwanted. The past is the past."

"I know," Emma mumbled.

"Are you going to be alright?"

"…I'll be fine."

"Emma…?"

"Hmm…?"

"I know that must have taken a lot to tell me all that," Regina said softly. "Thank you, for sharing."

Emma bit down on her trembling lower lip, the corners of which were turning into a smile. She slid her arm under Regina and pulled her closer. Regina lifted her chin, met Emma's eye, and tilted her head up so that her lips could meet Emma's.

To be continued