She Loves Me. She Loves Me Not.
Emma stirred her beer with a straw because apparently, this was her life now. Forget being the all-powerful Saviour, she was now the person who aggressively fidgets with their drink to avoid talking about their feelings. Across the booth, Ruby, Mulan, Ashley, and Belle watched her like a pack of predators waiting for their wounded prey to make a run for it.
This was not the night she planned. She was supposed to be throwing back shots with Mulan and commiserating about complicated relationships. But then Ruby invited herself, then Ashley, and somehow Belle got involved, and now she was trapped with Storybrooke’s most emotionally well-adjusted people (except Ruby, obviously).
The sheriff groaned. “Regina and I haven’t had sex in months.”
Perhaps, she shouldn’t have started off like that, and should rather have gone with a more obvious point like their supposed break. Ruby choked on her drink. Ashley froze, chocolate cupcake halfway to her mouth. Mulan, who was the only one actually enjoying her food, simply raised an eyebrow.
The waitress recovered first, smacking the table with an actual cackle. “I knew it! That’s why she isn’t wearing her ring, huh?”
Emma let out the loudest, most obnoxious slurp of her beer in retaliation. Mulan gave her a deeply unimpressed look.
“Okay, firstly, shut up. Secondly, this isn’t funny.”
Ruby tilted her head, grinning. “It’s a little funny.”
“It’s really not.”
Belle, the only person taking this seriously, leaned forward. “Are you sure it’s just that?”
Emma frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, is it just the sex? Or is there more to it? Besides the fact that she doesn’t wear her ring anymore.” Ouch. That still hurt.
Emma stared down at her beer. Was there more to it?
She hated that she hadn’t actually asked herself that. It was easier to frame this as a physical issue. A problem that could be fixed. Now that Belle said it out loud, Emma knew.
She exhaled. “We’re… fine. We’re happy. We still laugh, we still talk, we still do all the couple things we’re supposed to do. It’s just-” She clicked her tongue. “It’s like she’s holding back. Like she wants to be close, but every time I try to push, even just a little, she withdraws. And when I asked her about it, she just said she needed space after my whole mess of a birthday.”
Ashley nodded slowly in understanding. “Did she say why?”
Emma scoffed. “Regina Mills? Explain her feelings? No, she just threw up a perfectly worded deflection and disappeared into her office.”
“And you let her?” Mulan shot her a look.
The blonde threw her hands up. “What was I supposed to do? Break into her office and force her to talk?”
Ruby shrugged. “That is kind of your love language.”
Emma glared as Ruby grinned, shifting uncomfortably into the booth all four bodies had crammed themselves into. Just as Belle was about to respond, the sound of something catching fire in the kitchen snapped their heads toward the counter.
“Peter!”
Granny’s voice boomed through the diner. A puff of black smoke curled from the kitchen doorway.
There was a clatter, a yelp, and then a very sheepish-looking teenager stumbled into view, waving a dish towel at whatever he’d just torched. “It was an accident!”
Granny looked seconds away from yeeting a frying pan at him. “I told you to toast the bread, not set it on fire! ”
Ruby groaned, sliding down in her seat like she could disappear. “Oh my goodness.”
Granny whirled toward her, pointing a very accusing finger. “And you! You’re supposed to be working! Not gossiping about Emma’s sex life!”
Emma choked on her drink. Mulan patted her back, looking far too amused. That definitely turned a few heads.
Ruby shot the woman an innocent smile. “Multitasking?”
The older woman was already stomping back to the kitchen, muttering about useless wolves and idiots with no common sense. The wolf sighed dramatically, slumping against Belle. “See? This is why I need a drink. Work is traumatising. ”
Belle furrowed her brows. “You were literally sitting here doing nothing.”
“Exactly. And yet somehow, I still got yelled at.” Ruby pointed at Emma. “I think this is what you and Regina call being cursed.”
Emma groaned, pressing her fingers against her temples. “Can we please get back to my tragic love life?”
Belle, thankfully, took the moment seriously again. “You said she still wants to be close. What does that look like?”
Emma hesitated, pushing her beer aside. “She’ll reach for me sometimes, but just for a second. Like she doesn’t even realise she’s doing it, but the moment I touch her back, she pulls away. It’s like she wants to let go, but she’s stopping herself.”
Ashley hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s not the touching part she’s scared of.” Emma looked up. “Then what is it?”
Belle took a slow sip of her herbal tea before setting it down. “Regina’s entire life, love has been something she’s had to fight for. To earn. To deserve.” Emma swallowed. “When she loved Daniel, she had to hide it. When she loved Henry, she was afraid someone would take him away. Even with Robin, it was fated, but only for so long. Every time she’s loved someone, it’s come with a cost.”
Mulan nodded, arms crossed. “She’s a warrior. She knows how to fight for love, but she doesn’t know how to keep it.”
Emma’s chest tightened. What? “She has kept it. She’s still here. We’re still married.”
Ashley hesitated before saying, “Yeah. But if she’s still waiting for the moment it all disappears, then she’s not really in it, is she?”
That landed like a punch to the gut. She blinked. Because, shit.
“Not that I’m, like, a therapist or anything. But it sounds like maybe she’s not pulling away because she doesn’t want to love you. Maybe she just… doesn’t know how to believe it’ll last.” Ashley glanced around, suddenly self-conscious as she cleared her throat.
The table fell silent.
Emma sat there, feeling beyond guilty. She thought Regina wanted space because something was wrong. Though, what if… what if it wasn’t about doubt? What if it was about fear?
Gosh. It made sense.
Of course, Regina would do this. Of course, she’d hold herself back, waiting for the inevitable heartbreak, the inevitable loss.
Emma exhaled sharply, her voice barely above a whisper.
“…Shit.”
Ruby, who had been shockingly quiet (for her), reached across the table and patted Emma’s hand. “Yeah, babe. That’s the gayest and most tragic thing I’ve ever heard.”
Mulan raised her glass. “You should talk to her.”
Emma picked up a fry, chewing slowly, her mind racing. “Yeah,” she muttered. “I think I really should.” But that’s what she tried last time and she was nowhere.
Emma barely knocked before she let herself in, stepping into their home. The home that still smelled like coffee, vanilla, and whatever ridiculously expensive perfume her wife always wore.
It wasn’t weird to let herself in without waiting. She lived here (sort of, mostly, depending on the day). She half-expected Regina to be at the table, drinking her morning tea, giving her that slightly suspicious look she always did when Emma showed up unannounced.
“Emma, is that you?”
The voice was muffled . Coming from upstairs. Emma followed the sound, pushing open the bedroom door, only to find Regina in the en-suite bathroom, brushing her teeth while reading from a sheet of paper propped up on the counter.
“The citizens of Storybrooke deserve- ptoo! -an infrastructure that matches its potential. We have spent years rebuilding from a town of cursed souls into-”
Regina paused long enough to glance at Emma in the mirror, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.
“Emma, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?”
Emma sighed, leaning against the doorway. “Good morning to you too, Madam Mayor .”
Regina smirked around her toothbrush but didn’t slow down, rinsing her mouth and moving on to her next task; heels. She pulled open the closet, scanning the rows of shoes like a woman on the verge of war.
Emma watched as the brunette moved through the space with surgical precision, balancing between polished efficiency and barely contained stress. She wasn’t ignoring Emma on purpose. She was just… Regina-ing.
Emma crossed her arms. “I came over because I thought we-”
“Where are my navy heels?”
“What?”
Regina sighed, kneeling to check under the bed. “My navy heels, Emma. The ones that don’t make me look like I’m running for president.”
“Maybe if you actually listened to me, you’d remember where you put them.” Emma glared.
Regina didn’t spare her a glance before standing and walking toward the dresser. “Apologies, dear, but I have an entire town to impress today. If you’re here to lecture me about shoe organisation, I can pencil you in after my meeting.”
The blonde clenched her jaw, watching as Regina tried to fasten her necklace, fingers deft but rushed. Before she could think better of it, Emma stepped forward, brushing her hands aside.
The clasp was small, delicate. Her fingers brushed against the bare skin of Regina’s nape, and the moment stretched. Regina didn’t move, didn’t even tense, and Emma let herself believe she was allowed to stay here, close enough to breathe her in.
Then, as if waking from a spell, Regina straightened. The moment was gone. Her wife exhaled, softer now. “Can you pause for two seconds, please?”
Regina met her eyes, and for the first time since Emma got there, there was a flicker of hesitance, but then she reached for her blazer, slipping it on like armour.
“I promise I will listen once I get back. But right now, I need to-”
Emma stepped in front of her, blocking her path to the door. Regina blinked. The blonde closed her eyes, rubbing the back of her neck. “Gina.”
And there it was. The guilt. It was barely there, but Emma saw it before Regina smoothed it away with a small sigh.
She reached out, brushing her fingers against Emma’s face. Her touch was affectionate like one of those stolen gestures Madam Mayor allowed herself when she thought Emma wouldn’t hold onto it too tightly.
“I will, darling. I promise.”
Emma studied her. She saw the tension in her shoulders. The way her jaw locked was just a little too tight.
“…You wanna scream?”
Regina tilted her head, thrown off. “Pardon?”
“Sometimes it helps. You just get in your car, drive somewhere, and scream until you feel better.”
Regina huffed a laugh. “Tempting, but no.”
Emma watched her hands. Her fingers were now curled tight at her sides. Without thinking, she reached for them, rubbing gentle circles against her knuckles.
The brunette closed her eyes. “Or I could give you a quick massage? Help you relax before you go and dazzle all those investors.”
Regina actually laughed at that, shaking her head. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.” And with that, she squeezed Emma’s hand, just once, before stepping around her and heading out the bedroom door.
Emma watched her go, shoulders slumping as she let out a long sigh. Then, with a groan, she dragged herself downstairs and flopped down onto the armrest of the couch, dramatically clutching Regina’s coat she left behind.
“Attempt one… failed.”
Emma buried her face into the stupidly soft fabric. It smelled like her and boy, now she really wanted to hold her wife more than ever.
“She didn’t even kiss me,” she pouted. “I am literally a neglected wife.”
Silence. Not even the house pitied her, which was rude, considering how much time she’s spent in it. She groaned, tossing her phone next to her. Regina was going to listen to her. She just had to trap her first.
This called for a plan. A clingy, needy, dramatic plan. Emma smirked.
Attempt two: pending.
And naturally, Emma could always count on their son to be the catalyst of such a plan.
The Storybrooke Elementary gym was in absolute shambles.
Chairs were overturned. The scoreboard flickered wildly between nonsense scores (9,002 to 🦄🦄🦄?). A basketball hoop had somehow bent itself into a heart shape. And at the centre of it all, Henry, standing on top of the bleachers, holding what should have been a completely normal science fair project.
It was not a normal science fair project, because the baking soda volcano was floating. Yes. Floating.
It hovered mid-air, spinning slowly, and with each revolution, it erupted in a dramatic explosion of glittery purple lava that smelled like cinnamon.
Henry was thrilled. The other kids were screaming, and in the middle of it all, Emma Swan and Regina Mills.
Regina’s arms were crossed so tightly she might actually crush her own ribcage. Her jaw was locked, her eyes shut for a long, slow inhale, probably counting to ten to prevent herself from committing a crime in front of children.
Emma, standing beside her, bit her lip. Not because she was scared, but because she was trying very hard not to laugh.
“Moms! Look what I made!” Henry’s voice was pure excitement, jumping off the gym walls. “It was just a volcano before, but then I added a little bit of this cool shiny powder I found at home and-”
“Oh my.” Emma looked at Regina, eyes widening playfully. “Your kid-”
“Our kid,” Regina corrected automatically, still staring at the levitating science project.
“Right, right. Our kid just accidentally created cursed lava at a science fair.”
Regina exhaled through her nose, visibly fighting the urge to rub her temples. “Do you ever discipline him, or is that a skill that escaped you along with your impulse control?”
The blonde grinned, elbowing her lightly. “Hey, at least he’s got ambition.” Regina turned her head, leveling her with a look so deadly Emma physically felt it. “Not. Helping.”
Henry, still delighted by the disaster, yelled down from the bleachers, “It’s ok, though! I can probably fix it!”
Regina’s eyes snapped back to him. “Henry Daniel Mills, do not cast any more magic-”
Too late.
The boy clapped his hands together, and suddenly, the floating volcano did not float anymore. It dropped. Right into Emma’s waiting arms. She caught it, but the second she did, the cursed lava chose that exact moment to explode.
A giant, gooey splash of sparkly cinnamon-scented chaos erupted over her entire front. The gym fell silent.
Regina’s lips pressed together in a tight line. Henry winced. Emma slowly, slowly wiped glittery goop off her face. “Well,” she muttered, blinking through the sticky mess, “at least it smells nice.”
A strangled sound escaped the mayor like she was trying to hold back laughter but refused to let it happen.
Henry, realising this might be his only chance for survival, flashed his most innocent grin. “So… am I grounded?”
Regina didn’t even look at him. “Grounded does not begin to cover what you are, young man.”
Henry slumped. “Yeah. Thought so.”
Emma, still covered in magical glitter lava, licked her lips experimentally. Paused. “…Why does it taste like hot tamales?”
“Henry.” Regina rang out. The kind of Mom Voice that made grown men apologise on instinct. The boy immediately stopped trying to sneak a high-five to another kid. “…Yeah?”
“We are going home.”
His face fell. “That’s fair.”
“But.” Regina’s eyes narrowed. “Within the next hour, you will be back here scrubbing this gym spotless.”
Henry gaped at her. “Wha-but-” He almost threw a tantrum. “That’s, like, so much floor! You see how much glitter exploded, right? That’s gonna take forever.”
Regina just raised an eyebrow. The brunet groaned dramatically. “Mom.”
Emma, still peeling sparkles off her arm, held up a hand. “Ok, wait, that’s a little harsh-”
Her wife turned to her, and, yeah, that look was enough to tell Emma not to involve herself, so she obediently shut her mouth.
Henry, meanwhile, had clearly decided to see how far he could push his luck. “What if,” he said carefully, “we used a little bit of magic to help-”
Regina whipped around so fast that he actually stumbled back a step. “You will clean up this gym by hand.” Henry wisely said nothing.
Emma, though. Emma had zero survival instincts. “Not to be that guy,” she murmured, “but the magic kinda caused the mess, so wouldn’t magic-”
Regina turned her head, and Emma immediately put her hands up in surrender. “Right. No magic. Got it.”
The mayor sighed, pressing her fingers to her temple, grabbing Henry’s hand as she walked them out of the building.
“Can I at least listen to music while I scrub?”
Neither of his mothers replied, so the boy simply ranted to himself while climbing into the back of the car, slamming the door a bit too forcefully.
Emma stood nearby, still trying to get rid of the goo on her clothes, fidgeting nervously. She didn’t want to leave yet, didn't want to leave Regina and she could feel that deep ache in her chest every time she thought about the distance growing between them. She had to know if Regina still loved her, but of course, she wasn’t going to come out and ask it. No, that mission failed long ago. Emma had a far more subtle plan.
Which is exactly why she called in reinforcements.
Just as Regina was opening her door with that gritted-teeth politeness of hers, Emma saw them. Killian and Robin. Conveniently showing up, like they had nothing better to do.
Brown eyes narrowed immediately as they approached. Emma couldn't help but bite back a smile, even as Regina’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“What’s this?” Regina asked, her voice as sharp as a dagger, eyeing them both. She didn’t even bother with pleasantries. "You called them?"
Emma gave a little shrug, looking far too innocent for someone who had just planned to make her wife (ex-wife?) jealous. “Just thought they could help me with my bags at your place,” she said breezily. “Right, guys?”
Killian raised an eyebrow, caught off guard, but he smirked. “Aye, could hardly leave you stranded.” He paused. “Though, there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself.” He winked at Emma, making Regina stiffen.
Robin, not to be outdone, threw his arm around Emma’s shoulder in an exaggerated display of camaraderie. “I’ve got this, Emma. We can make a whole afternoon of it. Right, Regina?” He shot a glance toward her, but his playful grin faltered under Regina’s icy glare.
“Robin.” Regina's voice dropped low, filled with a sort of venom Emma had never heard before. She stepped closer, jabbing a finger into his shoulder. “Maybe you should go worry about your daughter, you know, the one with Zelena? She’s the one who needs you.”
Robin blinked, a little taken aback by the sudden hostility. "Uh, I-"
“And you,” Regina snapped, spinning on her heel to glare at Killian. His smirk hadn’t budged. Typical. “Go catch some fish or whatever it is you do with your hook these days. Maybe you’ll finally find something useful to do with your free time that doesn’t involve-”
Her gaze flicked down. Emma’s butt. Back up.
“That.”
And then Killian moved. Just the tiniest shift of his hand, like he thought he was being subtle. Like he thought Regina wasn’t paying attention.
She slapped his hand away so fast it was almost comedic. Almost.
Emma barely choked down a laugh. Killian did not. “Ow.” He cradled his wrist like he’d been personally victimised.
Regina just raised an eyebrow.
The blonde pressed her lips together, trying and failing not to grin. Regina was so bad at hiding her jealousy. It was almost cute. No, it was cute. Infuriatingly so.
Regina turned back to her then, still seething, her chest rising and falling in sharp, annoyed little breaths. But then Emma felt it, the tug of fingers at her jacket zipper, like Regina had forgotten, just for a second, that she wasn’t supposed to care this much.
Then, like it was the most normal thing in the world, her lover leaned in and kissed her cheek.
Like she hadn’t just committed light assault. Like she wasn’t two seconds away from throwing Killian into the ocean. Like she wasn’t Regina Mills, world-renowned disaster.
Emma just blinked at her.
Regina cleared her throat. “I have things to do, but I have a task for you and David after this. Don’t be late,” The car door slammed shut, and before Emma could react, Regina was gone, peeling out of the parking lot.
Emma stood there for a second. Processing. Replaying it over and over in her head. This wasn’t part of the plan. Her plan had involved winning Regina back, big grand gestures, jealousy, some accidental flirting (on purpose). But not this. Not Regina forgetting to pretend she didn’t care. Not Regina kissing her cheek in the middle of a parking lot like it was just a thing she did on their break.
She bit down on her grin so hard it hurt before she glanced over at the two men who had, apparently, been standing there waiting for Regina to leave.
She threw her arms up in the air dramatically. "Ok, ok, what part of not touching my butt did you two not understand?"
Killian chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. "It wasn’t intentional, love. Just… happened."
“Yeah, right,” Emma shot back, rolling her eyes.
Robin raised an eyebrow and looked around, taking in the empty parking lot. “So… uh, how are we getting home, then? I don’t think anyone brought a car.”
Emma couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head. “Of course, you didn’t. Just typical.”
She barely heard herself, though because the thing was… Regina kissed her, and that basically meant that Emma could still win.
She turned toward the road where Regina’s car had disappeared and grinned to herself.
Game on.