"Emma?" Regina is in her home office, and by the confusion in her voice Emma can tell she didn't expect the interruption.
"Hey," Emma says softly. "It's 22:30, you haven't called and I..." she cuts herself off, "You're busy." She's ready to make an apology and continue her evening alone, but Regina shakes her head.
"Oh no, I'm sorry." She quickly checks time and pushes her reading glasses up a little to rub at the bridge of her nose. "I got caught up in the paperwork. Lost track of time," she smiles apologetically. "How long have you been home?"
Regina's still in her business attire, and she's blinking at Emma tiredly.
She's been working too much lately, pushing herself too hard, hurrying to finish her current project as fast as she possibly could without it affecting the quality of the end result. There's a reason for that, Emma knows. For the same reason she wishes this project was over about several months ago - she wants to finally have her girlfriend all to herself. But more than that she wants Regina to be all right, to sleep and eat well, and not to overwork.
"Not too long. Cocoa?"
"Iced tea for me, but yes. Just let me wrap this up." She yawns and covers her mouth with a fist.
They make it a point, spending evenings together before going to bed. Sometimes it's just the two of them, drinking wine, or playing Battleship (there are apps for that, but Regina insists on paper and pencils). Sometimes they're reading Henry bedtime stories together, or he's reading to them. Sometimes Regina has to do paperwork until late hours, and they don't talk, but Emma's there, lying on a couch, playing on her phone, legs propped up on a pile of cushions. It all feels like home, and Emma knows that someday they will have exactly that.
She waits while Regina quickly writes down something and puts papers into three neat stacks. When it's done, Emma stands up and moves to the kitchen. Regina does the same.
Emma gets herself a bear claw and heats milk for cocoa. Regina retrieves tea from the fridge and adds ice cubes. The sight makes Emma shiver even in her sweater.
She settles at the table with her hands wrapped around a steaming mug. Regina is still standing with her back to Emma, rummaging in a cupboard, and Emma wonders what Regina's reaction could be if she pressed her palm, too warm from holding the mug, to the back of Regina's neck. Or she could just come up to her, one hand on the small of Regina's back and help her find whatever it is that is making her open and close cabinets with growing frustration.
"What are you searching for?" Emma asks.
"I want a cookie."
"Oh." She sounds uneasy, making Regina pause and turn around.
"Oh?"
"Uh... you mean cookies you baked with Henry this weekend?" Emma asks, guilt all over her face.
Regina narrows her eyes. "Emma?"
"He ate the last ones at breakfast yesterday when you went to answer your phone," she confesses in a rush and screws her eyes shut, adding hastily, "Please, don't yell at me, you don't want to wake him up."
"And you let him?" Regina hisses in an angry, incredulous voice. She's hovering over the table, and Emma is intimidated enough to actually lean back in her chair. Just in case. "There are rules for a reason! Just how irresponsible-"
Emma can't take Regina's disappointment, not like this. Every time she displeases Regina feels like a warning: if she's angry now, imagine how well your relationship will work when she'll get bored of you, when she'll get to truly know you.
"Well, I couldn't actually keep him from doing it, could I?" She snaps in a hasty attempt to avoid the blame.
Surprisingly, it works. Regina stops mid-sentence, all anger drains out of her in an instant, replaced by weariness. "No, I suppose you couldn't." She slowly sits on a chair. "You still shouldn't have condoned him disobeying me," she says quietly.
"I know. I'm sorry." Emma tends to indulge Henry even when it feels wrong. Being his friend, playing games and plotting operations with him comes naturally. It’s familiar, safe. She treasures his affection and is unsure of what happens if she tries to parent him. "It's just hard to tell him no sometimes." She smiles a self-deprecating smile.
"Emma, you don't have to please him all the time. He isn't going to love you any less if you won't, you know?"
Emma nods as if she agrees, but the truth is, she doesn't know. She doesn't know how to be a proper adult around Henry, and she doesn't have enough opportunities to practice, to figure it out. She isn't present in his life in all the ways she would like to be, in all the ways that would allow her to build that kind of a relationship with him. But now is not the time to bring this up. It would only upset Regina, and won't solve anything.
"Hey," Emma tries for a more cheery smile. "Want my bear claw instead?" She holds up a half-eaten bear claw.
That earns her an eye roll. "How very generous of you."
"No, seriously. It's delicious, try it."
"You are ridiculous."
Emma shrugs and takes a bite, "Your loss," she says with stuffed mouth.
They drink in an easy silence after that.
Emma doesn't really want to talk. It seems like their relationship is all about talking. They have been together for almost a year, and had been close friends a few years before that. They've learned all about each other's tastes and habits, and there's probably no secrets left between them. They've shared every little detail about themselves, every childhood story - including the boring ones.
She doesn't want to talk, but she missed Regina. So she asks, "How was your day?" and listens to what she already knows: how Regina had a meeting with her Brazilian partners (Regina had to cut their lunch short because of it, Emma ended up eating the stupid salad alone); that Henry got an A+ for his art project (he sent her a picture after classes); what she and Henry had for dinner...
Another family dinner Emma missed. She pushes the thought away. They promised they would make it work, and that's what she's going to focus on. It's all about what they can be together, not about what they can't, not about what they miss.
When Regina walks out of the shower, free of makeup, wrapped in a fluffy towel, Emma is already in her flannel pajamas, sitting in the middle of the bed. She watches her girlfriend's movements as Regina rubs her body lotion into her legs. She imagines tracing those legs with her own hands, carefully unwrapping the towel... She almost tells Regina what's on her mind, but thinks better of it. It's obvious that Regina isn't up for it today, it's too late and she has an early morning tomorrow.
"Is it jasmine? Your lotion's scent," she asks instead.
"Sandalwood and cinnamon."
Regina changes into Emma's old t-shirt for sleep. They snuggle up in blankets (Emma's is thick and heavy, Regina's is thin as a veil), lying on their sides, watching each other. In the dark their faces look grey and black, and nothing else is seen around them.
Emma doesn't exactly like sleeping on the left side of the bed, but the right side is Regina's, and she can't...
There's a photo of all three of them from several months ago on her bedside table. There's an identical one on Regina's.
It was Emma's birthday, and she resigned herself to spend it like she always had: a cupcake, a candle, a keen wish for a family. And then Regina and Henry showed up, blowing her away with a giant cake and bone-crushing hugs, all wide smiles and foreign smells. They stayed the night and didn't leave her until the next evening.
She clutches the pendant on a chain they gave her as a present then: two silver windmills, one is twice taller than the other.
There's an I love you on the tip of her tongue, and she can't articulate in a simple, non-desperate way that wouldn't add to their misery.
"Breakfast at seven?" She asks. It's a pointless question, breakfast is always at seven.
(I love you, and I won't let your son mess up his diet again.)
"Yes."
(I want you to yell at me in person if I do.)
"Have you set up your alarm?" Regina asks.
(I want to feel the scent of your lotion myself.)
"Yeah."
(I want to be able to spy on your battleships' positions. I want to make you tea in the evening, I want to be the one who puts ice cubes in it. I want a million of other insignificant little things I'm suffocating without.)
"I love you," she blurts out.
"Oh, Emma." Regina sighs. She reaches out as if to touch her but her hand drops. "I love you, too". Regina smiles a sad, gentle smile.
This is all Emma can have right now, and this is what she will cling to for the next months, until her family is with her in all senses. "Night," she whispers.
"Sweet dreams," Regina's voice cracks slightly as she touches her fingertips to her lips and blows Emma a kiss.
Thousands of miles away, Emma almost feels it. She ends the call and hopes for the sleep to come faster.