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Emma blearily makes pancakes; half asleep and running only on the dregs of cold coffee that she chugged left from last night. The fresh pot percolates beside her, and she tries to use her magic to speed it up.
She nearly takes the skin on her face clean off. You would think that over five years of practicing magic with Regina would have paid off better by now.
Henry comes into the kitchen, looking only marginally more awake than Emma. He moves straight to the coffee pot and whines when he sees that it's not finished yet. Emma laughs at him and ruffles his hair. It's way too long. Regina has been after him to get it cut for the last year. Emma kind of likes it like this. He does sort of look like a lazy skater kid, though.
“Regina won't let you have it anyhow,” Emma tells him as she flips a blueberry pancake.
“She's not up yet. I'll drink it before she gets down here.”
“You'll do what before I get down here?” Regina asks, waltzing into the kitchen. Timing impeccable as always. She's fully dressed and looks like she's been up for hours. Emma and Henry are both still in their PJs and donning spectacular bedhead. She waits, staring at Henry with a single eyebrow arched and an arm on her hip.
Henry folds under her gaze and mumbles unintelligibly as he motions towards the coffee pot.
“No,” Regina tells him for the hundredth time. Emma doesn't see why, he just buys it himself with his friends in town. The kid's seventeen. He'll be eighteen in a month. Emma started drinking coffee at thirteen. Didn't stunt her growth much at all. Besides, Henry can't keep shooting up like a weed, he's nearly two inches taller than David. A little stunting will be good for him.
“But, Mom—”
“I'm not arguing with you about this anymore,” Regina passes by him, kissing his cheek as she goes. She has to lean up, no longer able to reach his forehead unless he's sitting down. A fact which Emma knows that Regina hates. Hence, the stunting.
Emma hands him the first plate of pancakes in sympathy. She'll let him sip her mug when Regina is looking the other way. After she's had at least one full cup of her own. Maybe.
Emma pours some more batter into the pan as Regina sidesteps past her, hand lingering on the small of Emma's back; keeping her from knocking backwards into Regina. “Are you off today?” she asks as she pours herself a mug of coffee.
“Nope,” Emma flips the pancake. “Half shift. I'm going in after lunch.”
Regina hums into her mug, not sipping the steaming liquid yet, but holding it up in front of her mouth in anticipation. “Bring me the kale salad with salmon today,” she requests. “Oh, and walnuts.” Emma nods as she adds more batter to the pan. Regina turns to Henry. “Are you babysitting Neal tomorrow after school?”
“Yeah,” Henry mumbles, mouth full of pancakes. He finishes chewing and swallows. “Till nine. They're gonna drive into the city and back.”
“Are you going to bring him here, or go there? His bedtime is eight, and he'll need to be fed.”
“I was gonna go there. I'm capable of making grilled cheese and putting a four-year-old to bed, Mom. I've done it before.”
Regina looks doubtful. Emma hip checks her and hands her a plate of pancakes. “Fine,” she concedes. “At least make him eat a vegetable and some fruit.”
Henry rolls his eyes, but the corners of his lips are fighting against tucking up into a grin. “I know, Mom. Gilled cheese, apples, and green beans.”
Regina smiles and sits down beside him.
“I think you should bring him here,” Emma says, settling down with her own plate of pancakes. “Or they should ask me to babysit. He's my brother.”
Regina cuts her pancakes into nearly identical quarters. “The last time that you babysat, you kept him up until nearly eleven playing video games. He's four.”
“I — you know what, he had a blast,” Emma says, defending herself.
“And he had nightmares from the video game for a week and wouldn't go to sleep at his bedtime.”
“Well... that's what big sisters are for. Right, Henry?” she turns to him, needing some backup.
Henry shrugs. “Wouldn't know. You guys have never graced me with a sibling.”
Emma and Regina both fall silent, busying themselves with their pancakes.
Henry rolls his eyes. He finishes eating first and shuffles off to get dressed for school. Emma tells Regina that she tried to make the coffee pot go faster and nearly burned her face off. Regina gives her a dry look as she washes her plate in the sink. She fills a to-go mug full of coffee as Henry comes back into the kitchen, backpack slung over one shoulder, school uniform tucked in all the proper places. He looks less like a lazy skater kid and more like a prep school boy with unkempt hair. Regina frowns at his head. He grins at her, moving over and kissing her cheek, exaggeratingly bending down. She pushes him away, trying to hide her matching smile.
“I'm late,” she announces, attempting to fix his hair before he shrugs her off. “Please let Neal amuse himself with his toys and get your homework done. Or bring him here and let Emma watch him while you do so.”
“Mom—”
“You're a senior, Henry, just because this is your last year, doesn't mean that you get to slack off.”
Henry gives her a toothy grin. “I think that's exactly what it means, actually. There's a whole term for it and everything.”
“No son of mine is going to wander around claiming something as ridiculous as senioritis.” The air quotes are heavily implied in Regina's tone.
Henry turns to Emma for help. She shakes her head, pouring her third cup of coffee and sitting up on the countertop beside the pot. “Don't look at me, everyone knows who's in charge in this house.” Regina might actually preen at her words. Emma regrets them immediately. “Besides, senioritis is stupid. Though, I basically dropped out for most of my senior year, so, I don't have much authority here.”
“Ma!” Henry mock gasps, clutching a hand to his chest dramatically. “How could you.”
“It was Neal's fault!” Emma yells in protest.
Henry's eyebrows crease together. “Gross. I don't want to hear about you sneaking out of school to make out with my dad.”
Emma kicks her legs back and forth. “Not all of it was making out,” she says into her coffee mug with a devilish grin. Henry begins making fake gagging noises, doubling over for effect. Emma's grin widens.
Regina's grip around her coffee mug tightens considerably.
“Some of it was thievery,” Emma continues. Henry straightens up and quiets. “In between all the hot, hot backseat car sex,” she adds. Henry lets out a whine.
“Please stop,” he begs. “That's not an image I want.”
Regina rolls her shoulders and sucks in a breath. “As fascinating as this trip down your juvenile delinquency has been, Henry is going to be late for school, and I'm going to be late for work.” She raises her eyebrows pointedly at the both of them.
“I've got to make my lunch,” Henry says, and moves to get out bread and peanut butter and jelly.
“Do so quickly, please.” Regina requests. She gathers her things, keys in hand and presses another kiss to his cheek as she passes by him. He bends down and leans into her touch without looking up from his sandwich concoction. Emma sees banana pieces, and possibly cucumbers being added in as well. She shudders. Henry rubs a cucumber slice against her cheek; Emma nearly falls off the counter trying to get away from him, only Regina's arms reaching out and grabbing a hold of her hips keep her in place. “Henry,” she chastises him. He merely chuckles.
“Our child is a little shit,” Emma says, glaring at him. He bows in acknowledgment while lathering peanut butter onto the bread. Regina's hands haven't left Emma's hips. She squeezes them once, directing Emma's attention onto her. “He is,” Emma insists, rubbing at the sliminess on her cheek. “Look at him laughing. Cucumbers are so gross.”
Regina rolls her eyes, removing one hand from Emma's hips and wiping her cheek clean. “Walnuts on my salad today,” she reminds her. “Do actually get dressed before nine. And consider attempting some laundry, or vacuuming the living room.”
Emma's mouth drops open, far too exaggerated. “I have the morning off.”
“From working at the station. If I remember correctly, when you moved in two years ago you said, and I quote, 'I'll be the greatest roommate ever, I'll clean the house all the time for rent'. I've yet to see you so much as pick up a broom, dear.”
“She's not wrong,” Henry quips, smashing his sandwich together with gusto.
“Kid! You're supposed to me on my side! I sneak you coffee!” she says. Regina's hand pinches into Emma's right hip—hard. Emma yelps. “Ow, god. Cut your nails.”
“Have a lovely morning, dear,” Regina says, sickeningly sweet. She leans forward and presses a kiss to Emma's cheek, and then she is out the door, calling, “walnuts,” over her shoulder.
“What a rude, demanding woman,” Emma complains to Henry.
“You're the one basically married to her,” he retorts.
Emma's whole body freezes. She lets out a shaky little laugh. “What? Am not.”
Henry turns on her, disbelieving look on his face. “Seriously?” he asks. Emma shrugs, totally confused. Henry runs a hand through his too-long hair and gives her a long-suffering sigh. “You know what, I've been waiting and waiting for either of you to realize, but it's just become ridiculous. And I'm gonna be gone for college in like six months, and the two of you will just be hopeless forever.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Emma asks.
“You. And Mom. Are married,” he says slowly, like Emma is a small, confused child. Right now, she feels like one.
“Kid, your mom and I are friends,” she says. “Roommates.”
“Along with being in love with each other, yes.” He says with a nod, shoving his sandwich into a plastic bag.
There's a moment, just a fleeting second, where she feels her heart fall out of rhythm and flutter against her chest. Then, Emma laughs, loud and hysterical. “Oh my god, kid, that's a good one.”
Henry shoves his sandwich into his backpack, slings it over one shoulder, then squares himself in front of Emma. He bends down, resting his palms against both her shoulders. Holding her in place and forcing her to look him in the eye. “Ma, I love you, but you're an idiot.”
“Hey! Regina can call me that, but you can't.”
“She just kissed you on the cheek.”
“She kissed you, too!”
Henry rolls his eyes. “I'm her kid. You're saying that it's normal friendship behavior to kiss someone goodbye every morning like that?”
“She doesn't do it every morning,” Emma protests quietly. She thinks back, there is no way that Regina does that every morning. Emma would have noticed.
“Every. Morning,” he says, enunciating his words carefully. “And you bring her lunch almost every day, like a standing lunch date. And she takes you out to dinner all the time. Like, every single Friday for the last two years, you've had date nights. And you guys touch each other all the time.”
“What! We do not, don't make it sound weird.”
“You know what I mean, Ma!” Henry groans, frustrated. “Like, you're constantly brushing up against each other. And like... touching! I don't know how to explain it. You guys don't even realize that you do it. It's all super innocent and annoying because you have no idea.” He looks at her seriously. “Half the town thinks that you've been dating since you moved in.”
“What!?” Emma yelps. She has been living here for the last two years. That can't possibly be right. No one has ever said anything to her. Though, now that she thinks about it, Ruby does give her oddly pointed looks whenever they talk about Regina. So does her mother. “We're not though Henry, really.” Emma sighs. “Look, kid, we're friends. Good friends. I mean, we're way too old to be flinging around the words, 'best friends', but that qualifies! People who like each other are comfortable with each other. It's nothing new. We live together! We're roommates and co-parents! That's it.”
Henry lets out a long groan and slams his forehead down against Emma's thighs. “This is insane,” he mumbles. “You are both so clueless.”
“Henry, I've been dating Hook. Was. I was dating Hook.”
“You broke up with him a year and a half ago. The minute you moved in, you basically stopped talking to him. And, honestly, you were kind of barely dating him before that. You guys just hung out and drank beer by the docks.”
“That's—” true, “—rude. And besides, Regina's true love or whatever is Robin Hood.”
“Soulmate,” Henry corrects. “It's different. A soulmate can be anyone. It doesn't have to be a romantic relationship. Which, I think we've established by now considering that he and Marian have two more sons and are happier than ever. And, he and Mom call each other like once a week to talk. And, she and Marian Skype and bake together all the time and are actually friends. Normal ones. Not in love ones like you and Mom.”
“I think you're cracked up, kid,” Emma tells him seriously. “Are you doing drugs? Because I won't be mad. Well, I will. But I'll get you help and love you anyway.”
“Zelena and I have had a standing bet on when you two would figure it out since I was fifteen.” Henry deadpans.
“What!” Emma yelps. “Who's winning?” she asks out of curiosity.
“I'm loosing. Terribly. I had more faith in the two of you than I should have, apparently.”
“Zelena bet against us, what a traitorous bitch. I thought she was my friend now.”
“She didn't bet against you,” Henry explains, sounding bored. Or very tired. “She just bet that it would take at least three to four years for the two of you figure it out. That, or you never would. Also, I'm forfeiting by telling you, but this is so ridiculous I can't stand it anymore.”
“Henry,” Emma sighs. “I'm not in love with Regina. And she is definitely not in love with me.” The words sound like a lie even as they fall from her lips. Emma breathes slowly.
“Why haven't you dated anyone since you broke up with Hook?” Henry asks. “Why hasn't she dated anyone since she broke up with Robin? Why do you two gaze longingly into each other's eyes across the room and make me want to gag?”
“I don't gaze longingly at her.”
“Ma,” Henry says softly. “She's totally in love with you. I think she has been for years. And, no offense, but the level of obsession you have with her could never be described as simple friendship. How many times have you saved and stuck up for her?”
“Well, that's because I'm the savior. It's my job.”
“Keeping other people from killing her, maybe. Holding her hand, and taking care of her afterwards, not so much.”
Emma stills. Henry just looks at her. Patiently. Calmly. His palms rest against her shoulders, solid, grounding her. The words, she's totally in love with you, run over and over in her head. Words like that, they tangle up in you like brambles, burying deep. Emma tries to think back over every interaction she's had with Regina in the last eight years. What Henry is telling her doesn't make any sense. But, we create the past in the things that we choose to remember about it. Looking back, and allowing herself to consider what Henry is telling her to be true, it's as sudden as submersion in cold water.
Emma is totally in love with Regina, and she's pretty sure that Regina is in love with her back. They've been acting like a couple for years without even knowing it.
“Holy shit,” Emma whispers.
“Annnd there it is.” Henry leans back, readjusting his backpack and grinning. “My job for the day is done, now I'm going to school to not listen to my teachers.”
“Listen to some of it,” Emma spits out on automatic. Because while she might generally feel more like Henry's big sister than his second mother, she has learned some things over the years.
“Also, I'm gonna need some money,” he says.
“What for?”
“I told you. I forfeit by telling you. I gotta pay Zelena.”
Emma's head snaps up. “I'm not giving you money to pay your aunt on a bet that you two placed about whether or not your family members were in love. Use your own money.”
Henry's cheeks turn pink. “Well... I don't have enough.”
“How much money did you bet?”
“It's been going on for almost three years, Ma! We had to make it more interesting somehow.”
Emma points towards the door. “Go to school!” Henry throws his arms up in the air, but leaves. Emma sits on the countertop, her entire world has shifted in the last five minutes. She feels like she deserves a moment to just sit there and breathe. “Holy shit,” she whispers again, before launching herself off the counter and running to go get dressed.
…
…
Confronted with the door to Regina's office, all of Emma's confidence deteriorates. What if she has realized that she's in love with Regina, but Henry is wrong about Regina reciprocating those feelings? What if she's about to massively embarrass herself, become homeless, and lose the woman who has honestly become the best friend that she has ever had?
This was a terrible idea. Henry is a child and an idiot. He possesses Emma's genes, after all. He's totally wrong, this is a bad joke. Emma nods to herself and opens the door, sure that nothing has changed.
The minute that she sees Regina, sitting at her desk, phone cradled with her shoulder, flipping through a file with her legs propped up on the desk, pinching the bridge of her nose, and looking like she is seconds away from conjuring up a fireball, Emma knows that she is done for.
How the hell had she not realized it before? She is totally, annoyingly, and ridiculously in love with this woman.
Shit.
Regina glances up and her entire face softens at the sight of Emma. Emma swallows and tries to remember to breathe. Regina mouths, 'one minute' and nods to the free chair at her desk. Emma moves into it, setting up their lunch as she always does. (God damn, standing lunch date. Henry was right.) She doesn't even have to think about how Regina is going to want her food, she simply arranges it and passes it over silently. Regina reaches over and squeezes her thigh in thanks, humming into the phone and flipping to another page in the file. Emma swallows and tries not to notice how many buttons Regina has undone on her blouse. She shoves a french fry into her mouth and nearly chokes. Regina's eyes snap up to her, disapproving.
“You're meant to chew the food,” she hisses.
Emma gives her a weak smile and coughs again, grabbing her water bottle and chugging it. “Right,” she mumbles. Regina looks at her oddly for a moment before turning back to her file. Emma spends the next two excruciating minutes chewing individual french fries as slowly as possible and staring at Regina's face like a creeper.
She finally hangs up. Letting out a sigh, she leans back in her chair and sips her tea. “Leroy is an idiot,” she announces.
“Not new information.”
Regina hums. “No.” She picks up her salad and starts eating quietly, her gaze off somewhere to the side. She occasionally hums her approval with the salad and sips her tea. Emma can't believe how much she wants to kiss her. Or that she has never come to this conclusion before now. How she spent the last two years living with this woman and not knowing that she was falling in love, she has no idea.
Regina turns to her, most of her salad gone, and glances down at Emma's lunch with a frown. “What's wrong with you?”
“Huh? Nothing.”
Regina looks up and meets Emma's gaze, wary. “You're not eating,” she says. Emma shrugs. Regina's eyes narrow. “You've never, in the eight years that I've known you, refused food when it was placed in front of you.”
Emma pushes a french fry into her mouth. If anything, that makes Regina look more worried.
“Is it Henry?” she asks. “Neal?”
Emma shakes her head. “Everyone is fine. Henry owes your sister a significant amount of money that he's probably going to try and squirrel out of you, but everyone's fine.”
Regina's eyebrows crease together in confusion. “Why would he owe Zelena money?”
“They made a bet.”
“What, why?”
“From the sounds of it, boredom mostly”
“Emma,” Regina's eyes rove her body, searching for some kind of distress. “What is going—”
“Nothing!” Emma says, voice too high. She jumps up and shoves her uneaten food into the trashcan. “It's dumb. Funny, but dumb. Seriously, don't worry about it. I better go or I'll be late for work.”
Regina studies her like she's trying to piece together a particularly difficult puzzle. Emma feels far too exposed under her eyes, she shuffles her weight back and forth uncomfortably. Regina finally relents, still looking a little unconvinced. “Alright,” she says, rising herself. Emma holds her breath as she moves over towards her. She knows what is about to happen before it does, now that Henry has brought her attention to it. Regina moves to kiss her on the cheek; Emma, like an idiot turns her head at the last minute and kisses her on the lips.
It's as chaste a kiss as one could be, lasting not even a full second, but Emma's whole world shifts again, and she remains rooted to her spot. Regina doesn't even seem to have even noticed, and sits back down at her desk, picking up her file and resuming her work.
Emma can only stand there and stare down at her, mouth agape. It takes Regina flipping a single page before her entire body freezes up and her eyes snap back up to Emma, a horrified, panicked look in them.
“So, was this a date?” Emma asks, because subtlety has never been her strong suit. Regina's eyes widen comically, and Emma's skin suddenly feels hotter than it did a moment ago. She doesn't know if she's breathing anymore.
“Excuse me?” Regina says carefully.
“Um... is this... the bet was about us. He said—” Emma sighs, hating herself for how the words won't form correctly in her mouth. Not with Regina staring at her like that. “—he said that we're married without knowing. Like, basically we're in love, not friends. Or, we're friends who are also in love,” she definitely sounds like an incoherent moron. “The bet was on how long it would take for us to figure it out.”
Emma dares a glance over at Regina. Her face is carefully blank. Emma doesn't know if she is breathing either, but then her chest rises. Emma quickly looks away from that area. It's not helping to calm herself down at all.
“I told him he was possibly on drugs, but... he made some valid points.” Emma plays with the paperweight on Regina's desk, not taking her eyes off of it. “There was some stuff about constantly touching each other, and lunch and dinner dates, and kissing on the cheek.” Emma swallows, “Pretty funny, right? That we're basically a couple without realizing. I told him there was no way, I mean, you're like the sharpest person I know. Nothing gets by you, especially not being in love with someone. Right?” Emma finally looks down at Regina. She knows that her face is giving away everything, but she can't seem to hold it back know that she knows.
Regina just looks at her. Reminiscent of the way that Henry had in the kitchen only hours ago, holding her gaze and refusing to let go. Then she rises and moves out from behind her desk. Emma stumbles backwards, but Regina's arms reach out and steady her for the second time today, holding her solidly in place. Keeping her from falling. Emma can't read the look on her face. Regina might be about to slap her or kick her out. She might be about to laugh and announce this for the cruel joke that it is. Emma has no idea.
Regina does neither of those things. Instead, she leans forward and presses her lips against Emma's. This kiss is less chaste than the first one and lasts for longer than a second. It's still over far too quickly, and Emma finds herself whining embarrassingly as Regina pulls away.
“Don't be late for dinner, dear,” she says, with a wicked grin on her face. She lets go of Emma and moves back over to her desk, resuming her work once again. As if this were normal behavior. Emma stands there, her legs not quite seeming to work properly.
“Is dinner a date?” she croaks out.
Regina looks up, devilish smirk on her face. “Is it usually?”
Emma gapes at her. “I don't know!” she yells, voice hoarse. “That's what I'm asking you!”
There is a dangerous twinkle in Regina's eye, and her voice drops low. Doing things to Emma that she really doesn't want to think about right now. “Well, we'll have the house to ourselves, won't we? Henry is babysitting.”
Emma makes a choking noise. Regina's smirk widens. “I'll see you tonight, dear.”
Emma finally gets her legs to move. “Right, yeah, sure. Tonight,” she mumbles. “You know, today when I woke up, things were normal.”
“Are they not anymore?” Regina asks, a hint of worry in her voice. Emma locks her jaw and looks her square in the eye. God, she wants to kiss her again. She beams.
“Apparently, this has been the norm for years. Whole town's been talking about it. We're the last to know.”
Regina snorts. “I'm well aware of my own feelings thank you very much.”
Emma's grin widens. “So, you have been in love with me for years.” Regina stills. “Awesome,” Emma declares. “I'm cool with being the last to know,” she moves back over to Regina's desk, leaning over and kissing her again. “If it means more of that.”
“Like I said, don't be late, dear,” Regina says, her voice husky and low.
“Wouldn't dream of it.”