Chapter Text
Emma Swan laid down her pen on the desk and sighed heavily.
Reaching up, she removed the thick, black framed glasses that she had been wearing and slowly massaged her green eyes with the heels of her hands. Her fingers drew slowly down her cheeks, and she brought her palms together in front of her mouth as if praying, resting her chin on her thumbs. Looking across the desk, over the back of the worn, brown leather couch, and past the two, equally worn, leather armchairs that flanked the great, stone fireplace, she tried to refocus her eyes on the flames that were dancing there slowly.
She had taken some time off around the holidays, not to get away from work (she had, in fact, been working quite steadily through procrastinated, administrative paperwork for the last several days), but to get away from the prying eyes and increased number of inquiries that always seemed to come this time of year.
Her story was infamous, even six hours away in this sleepy, little town of Storybrooke, Maine.
Personal ties to the area meant news about her life travelled faster and farther than normal and lingered a little longer than necessary. It would have come out eventually. Her whole life had been scrutinized and put on display when she applied for the job as Sheriff. There was no avoiding it. Never mind the fact that the way everything happened was so surreal and so unimaginable. It was the stuff of legend and lore and it just seemed to stir an insatiable curiosity.
It didn't really matter anymore. What was done, was done. And, no matter what words had been spoken....or truths revealed... Emma still felt in her heart that it had all been her fault.
The corners of her mouth turned down as she considered her current circumstance. For anyone else, two weeks off work would be a blessing, but Emma frowned at the thought of the time that she would have on her hands. It was too much time to think. It was too much time to remember. It was too much time to wonder about what could have been.
She looked forward to the increased tempo that the New Year would bring. Back to school would bleed into Spring Break which would give way to summer tourists which would bring everyone, once again, back to school. It would require full focus and help keep the thoughts and memories at bay. It wouldn’t make things better, but it would make them bearable. For now, though, she just had to make it through the holidays.
Her childhood friend, Ruby, had asked to stay with her, even though Ruby had a permanent room at Granny's Bed & Breakfast in town. If it had been anyone else that asked, Emma would have declined, but Ruby, and Granny, had always been there for her. Emma knew that they just wanted to keep an eye on her....make sure she was OK.
They had been her steadfast, safe havens as she had grown up; bounced around multiple, abusive and neglectful homes in the area when she wasn’t a ward of the State of Maine in some group facility. They had been with her each time she came back to Storybrooke; always around this same holiday. They had helped her through too many hard and dark days that gathered into weeks and then months and, now, years following each of her returns.
Emma had to admit, there was something comforting about Ruby’s intermittent presence that would provide a welcome relief to the total silence that she would face otherwise, catching up on paperwork from dawn till dusk and assuaging her guilt and loneliness in the remaining hours with copious amounts of alcohol.
Slowly, Emma raised herself from the chair behind the desk. She was dressed in a pair of well-worn jeans and a faded, heather grey t-shirt. On the front, a shield sporting an upturned sword enveloped by a pair of wings was barely visible in tattered black and partly obscured by the shawled, grey cardigan that was fastened by a single button. It was a stark contrast to the short, red, mini-skirt; navel-tied button-down; 5-inch red heels and candy-apple lipstick that Ruby had sported on her way out to the Rabbit Hole that evening. She had asked Emma if she wanted to come, but Emma politely declined, making the excuse of too much paperwork. The simple truth was that she wanted to be alone with Regina tonight; or, at least, she wanted to be alone with the memory of Regina.
Without much thought, Emma wandered over to the front, bay window to look out onto the abbreviated front yard of the small cabin and the darkened woods beyond. A light snow was falling in the twilight and added to the day’s already accumulated snow. The bottom of each of the window panes held a dusting of flakes that sparkled slightly thanks to the fire in the room and the lights that twinkled on the branches of a small tree that Ruby had insisted on placing in one corner.
Reaching up with both hands, Emma gathered her wavy, blonde hair at her neck and then pulled it over her right shoulder where it fell softly down her lapel. She leaned her left shoulder against the wall of the alcove as she continued to look through the glass; watching the darkness deepen and the snow begin to fall more heavily. Grasping the collar of her sweater, she pulled it more snuggly around her and closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath, slowly, as if searching for a scent that had, long ago, been lost from the wool but not from her memory. She crossed her arms in front of her and used her right hand to softly rub her left shoulder under the shawl of the sweater. She could feel the prominent scar through the thin fabric of the t-shirt. It would always remain. The pain would come and go, but tonight it was particularly acute.
Fucking Comhluadar, Emma thought as she turned towards the fire.
Emma collapsed clumsily into the old, leather chair. The last few years had started catching up to her, try as she might to forget and avoid them. She felt old, though she was only 30. It was as if she had lived a thousand lifetimes already.
Half-heartedly, she waved her hand over the top of the bottle of scotch that sat on the table by the chair, finally snatching it up by the neck. Tipping the bottle, she released its contents into the vessel next to it. When the tumbler was almost full, she stopped the pour, placing the bottle back on the table before lifting the glass to her lips. She gripped the crystal tightly, before slowly lifting her eyes to the mantle and looking at the only picture there.
A younger, happier Emma smiled back at her from the frame, but she wasn’t interested in that image. No, her attention was fully focused on the other woman that was in the picture. She was focused on Regina.
Regina Mills was only a couple of years older than Emma, and she was stunning. Her hair was a deep, rich brown that parted on the left. The sides and back were short and blended into a thick crown while the top was slightly longer, and she sported long, side-swept bangs that could only barely be tucked behind her right ear. Several stray locks fell forward over her right eye and it had a casual, fun wave that left it looking beautifully tousled. Her light olive skin had no imperfections save the slight scar above the right side of her mouth, and aside from the toffee-colored gloss that she would put on her soft, full lips, she wore no makeup. She didn’t need it anyways. She was perfect and Emma made sure that she told Regina some variation of that fact every day, not that Regina ever believed it.
“No one is perfect…and certainly not me”, she would say sternly, and then add in a lower, more playful whisper, “but I will take it under advisement”. That phrase was always accompanied by a mischievous grin and a wink.
God, those eyes… those beautiful eyes…thought Emma. Normally, they were a deep, rich brown, surrounded by thick lashes, but they had the knack for changing color according to Regina’s mood. When they made love, her eyes would lighten to the color of rich honey. Regina always said that the doubts and concerns that darkened their color were driven away in those moments of passion. She assured Emma that when she saw that lightened color; it meant that she was truly happy.
Regina’s beauty was striking, but it was just a physical manifestation of everything that she was.
Highly intelligent, Regina had been the top of her class. She had an insatiable curiosity, attention to detail and an intuitive mind. She was rarely without some sort of procedure or law book in her hand. It was no surprise to Emma where she had been placed after basic. Regina was honest to a fault and was keenly aware of the delicate balance between justice, revenge and compassion. She always believed that everyone, no matter what they had done, had some good in them.
Would you feel the same way now? wondered Emma silently as she lifted the glass of Scotch again to her lips.
As she scrutinized the picture, the details of the day played out in Emma’s mind. She and Regina had come to the popular hangout to celebrate their graduation and their new assignments. Still in their formal dress, they toasted their luck and fortune.
The pub had been bustling with rookies and veterans; all there to celebrate the incredible day. As she and Regina sat in a small booth enjoying their shots and the warmth of the roaring fire, another rookie happened by and offered to take their picture. Regina playfully threw her legs across Emma’s lap and wrapped her arms around Emma’s shoulders. The move wouldn’t be considered out of the ordinary. To those around them, they were nothing more than close friends celebrating the dawn of a brand new adventure. But for the two people in the photo, it was more. So. Much. More. Barely moving their lips and barely above a breath, they whispered the words that were as true then as they were now....as true as they would be for all eternity. Regina’s and Emma's resulting smiles had been huge and radiant and captured for always in the click of a camera's shutter.
Looking at the picture for only a moment more, Emma closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander to later that same evening.
In front of a roaring fire, they had made love with an indescribable urgency and insistence. Every feeling, every touch, every sound was burned into Emma’s memory: the warm glow of Regina’s bare skin as she lay on the bed in front of the fire, the hunger in her kisses, the faint scent of lavender and apples on her neck and collar bone, the softness of Regina’s skin as Emma traced her tongue, lips and mouth slowly over every inch that had been exposed to her.
Regina’s athletically toned body had been damp with perspiration as she arched her back and pressed herself hard against Emma’s waiting mouth. In her ears, Emma could still hear Regina’s soft gasps as she breathlessly called Emma’s name and begged her for release.
How in the hell had it all gone so wrong? How the hell did I let it happen? thought Emma as she allowed herself to sink back further into the chair and into her memory......