Work Text:
Regina Mills sat near the back of the auditorium, fingers laced tightly in her lap, posture immaculate despite the storm inside her.
A decade.
Ten years since she had last seen Emma Swan walk through these halls, back when everything had been sharper, louder, and infinitely more complicated.
The reunion buzzed around her in waves of nostalgia.
Clusters of former students laughed too loudly near the refreshments table, comparing careers and marriages and receding hairlines. Someone had put together an embarrassingly sincere slideshow of old yearbook photos that flickered across a projector screen at the front of the room. Every few seconds another burst of laughter erupted as people pointed at terrible hairstyles and regrettable fashion choices.
Regina smiled politely when spoken to.
Answered questions.
Accepted compliments about how little she had aged with carefully practised grace. But her attention kept drifting towards the doors.
Always the doors.
She adjusted the sleeve of her blazer, a nervous habit she had never quite shaken.
It was ridiculous, really.
She was no longer the young, uncertain teacher fresh out of university trying desperately to command a classroom of students barely younger than herself. She had built a life. A career. Confidence.
And yet-
Emma Swan still had the power to unravel her.
Back then, Regina had told herself it was harmless. Just admiration. Just… noticing.
The way Emma would slouch in her chair but somehow still command attention anyway. The way her brow furrowed when she was concentrating. The way she stumbled over her words whenever Regina asked her a direct question.
God.
That had been the tell, hadn’t it? Emma had always become nervous around her.
“Ms Mills?”
Regina blinked, pulled abruptly from memory as one of her former students approached her table.
Ashley Boyd.
Older now, more polished, but still unmistakably herself.
“It’s Regina now,” she corrected automatically.
Ashley laughed. “Right. Sorry. Force of habit.” Her expression softened. “It’s really good to see you.”
“You as well.”
Ashley glanced around the room before leaning slightly closer. “You know, half the people here had crushes on you.”
Regina nearly choked on her wine.
Ashley burst into laughter immediately. “Oh my God, that face alone was worth saying it.”
“Ashley….”
“No, I’m serious! You were young and pretty and terrifying. It was basically a disaster for half the senior class.”
Regina pinched the bridge of her nose. “I think perhaps you’ve had too much champagne.”
“I think you underestimate yourself.” Ashley smirked knowingly. “Though one person was definitely worse than the rest.”
Regina’s pulse stumbled. She kept her expression carefully neutral. “Oh?”
Ashley opened her mouth-
Then stopped abruptly, eyes shifting towards the entrance.
The room changed.
Subtly at first.
A ripple of recognition. A few excited greetings from across the hall. Regina turned before she could stop herself. And forgot how to breathe.
Emma Swan stood in the doorway.
Time, it seemed, had not dulled her, it had refined her.
She looked older, of course, more settled into herself, but there was still that same restless energy beneath the surface. Her hair was shorter now, styled with intention rather than indifference. A dark red leather jacket hung over broad shoulders, damp slightly from the rain outside. Her posture was straighter than Regina remembered, less defensive somehow, but her eyes-
God.
Her eyes were exactly the same.
Sharp.
Bright.
Searching.
Emma scanned the crowded room slowly, almost cautiously, as though unsure what she would find here after ten years away.
Then her gaze landed on Regina.
Everything else disappeared.
The chatter.
The music.
The movement of people around them.
Gone.
Emma froze.
Just for a second.
But Regina saw it.
She had always seen Emma too clearly. Ashley looked between them once, twice, and then quietly muttered, “Oh my God,” beneath her breath like she had just solved a decade-old mystery.
Regina barely heard her. Emma swallowed visibly before starting towards her. Each step felt impossibly loud in Regina’s ears.
People greeted Emma as she passed, but she answered automatically, distracted, her focus never leaving Regina for long.
Regina rose to her feet without realising she had done so. Her composure slipped for the first time in years. Emma stopped in front of her, close enough now that Regina could see the faint freckles scattered across her cheeks, the nervous tension hidden beneath her steady expression.
“Ms Mills,” Emma said softly.
The title hit like a memory wrapped in electricity. Regina let out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh.
“It’s… just Regina now.”
Emma smiled then.
Nervous.
Warm.
Achingly familiar.
“Right,” she murmured. “Regina.”
Neither of them looked away.
Ashley made a strangled sound beside them. “Okay,” she whispered to herself. “So I was definitely right.”
“Ashley,” Regina warned without taking her eyes off Emma.
“I’m leaving,” Ashley said immediately, backing away with both hands raised. “But wow. Wow.”
Emma laughed quietly, rubbing the back of her neck. “Still terrifying people, huh?”
“Only the dramatic ones.”
“I heard that!” Ashley called from across the room.
Emma’s smile widened.
And God help her, Regina felt her heart twist painfully in her chest at the sight of it.
Ten years.
Ten years and it still felt unfair how easily Emma affected her.
“You look…” Emma began before faltering slightly. “You look really good.”
Regina’s lips curved despite herself. “So do you, Miss Swan.”
Emma groaned softly. “Still doing that?”
“Some habits die hard.”
Emma shook her head, smiling under her breath.
There was a pause then.
Not empty.
Never empty.
Just full of ten years’ worth of things neither of them had ever said aloud. “I almost didn’t come tonight,” Emma admitted eventually.
Regina’s chest tightened. “Why?”
Emma hesitated.
Then met her gaze directly.
There was something different there now. Something steadier. Older. Brave in a way the younger Emma had never quite managed. “Because I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me the same way I remember you.”
Regina blinked slowly. “And how is that?”
Emma’s voice lowered.
“As the reason I spent my entire final year completely distracted.”
The world tilted slightly.
Regina stared at her, searching for hesitation, for humour, for retreat.
There was none.
“You… knew?” Regina asked softly.
Emma shook her head. “Not then. I didn’t understand it back then. I just knew that every time you looked at me my brain stopped working.” She laughed quietly at herself. “Took me a few years, and a lot of very bad dates… to figure out why.”
“Emma…”
“I thought about you,” Emma admitted. “More than I probably should have. And when I heard about the reunion…” She shrugged, suddenly shy. “I figured I’d regret it if I didn’t come.”
Something inside Regina- something she had spent ten years carefully containing- finally broke free.
“I’ve thought about you too,” she confessed quietly. “Far more than I should have.”
Emma’s breath caught audibly.
Silence fell again.
Charged now.
Hopeful.
Emma took a small step closer. “So… what now?” she asked softly.
Regina looked at her for a long moment. At the woman Emma had become. At the student she had once tried so desperately not to fall for. And maybe, Regina thought bitterly, she had already lost herself a little by then too.
Back then, she had only been a few years out of university- young enough that she still felt like she was pretending to be an adult half the time. Teaching had been terrifying enough on its own without adding feelings she didn’t know what to do with.
Because that was the truth she had spent ten years avoiding. It hadn’t just been a harmless crush. It had been Emma.
Emma with her guarded smiles and stubborn heart. Emma who lingered after class just to keep talking to her. Emma who made Regina feel seen in ways that frightened her more than she cared to admit.
And Regina had been scared.
Scared of what it meant that her attention always drifted towards one particular student in every crowded hallway. Scared of how easily Emma could undo her composure with a single look. Scared because the feelings themselves had felt too big, too inappropriate, too impossible to survive untouched.
So she had buried them.
Or tried to.
But for ten years, Emma Swan had existed quietly beneath everything else in her life; appearing in dreams, in passing thoughts, in the strange ache that arrived whenever graduation season came around again.
Regina looked back at Emma finally.
Softly.
Honestly.
“Now,” she said, “we stop wondering.”
Emma’s answering smile was brighter than anything else in the room.
———
The reunion wound down around them in a blur of half-finished drinks, nostalgic laughter, and the scrape of folding chairs against polished floors.
Regina barely noticed any of it.
Because Emma Swan was still standing in front of her.
Still close.
Still looking at her like she was trying to make up for ten years in a single glance.
“So,” Emma said after a moment, shoving her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, “you wanna get out of here?”
Regina arched a brow. “You’ve been here all of twenty minutes.”
“Yeah, well.” Emma smiled crookedly. “I already found the only person I wanted to see.”
Heat curled low in Regina’s chest, immediate and dangerous.
Even after all this time, Emma could still do that to her with almost embarrassing ease.
Regina reached for her coat carefully, grateful for something to do with her hands. “There’s a diner a few blocks away,” she said, striving for composure. “Unless your tastes have improved with age.”
Emma gasped softly. “Wow. Still judging my eating habits.”
“You put ketchup on scrambled eggs.”
“And you looked horrified every single time.”
“I was horrified.”
Emma laughed then- full and warm and real, and Regina felt something inside her loosen completely.
God.
She had missed that sound.
———
The diner was nearly empty at this hour.
A sleepy waitress poured coffee without asking, and Emma wrapped both hands around the mug like she needed the warmth.
For a while they simply talked.
Not about the past at first.
About work. About life. About the strange shock of realising they were adults now instead of people pretending to be.
“You became a paramedic?” Regina asked.
Emma shrugged. “Eventually.”
“You say that as though it’s not impressive.”
“Well, there were a few disasters first.” Emma grinned. “Tried office work. Hated it. Tried sales. Hated people. Turns out I’m better in a crisis.”
“That sounds about right.”
Emma pointed at her. “See? You used to do that all the time.”
“Do what?”
“Look at me like you already knew me better than I knew myself.”
Regina looked down into her coffee. “Perhaps I did.”
Emma went very quiet at that.
“And you?” she asked after a moment. “Still teaching?”
“Vice principal now.”
Emma let out a low whistle. “Wow. Ms Mills really climbed the ranks.”
Regina rolled her eyes. “You are impossible.”
“And yet you still liked me.”
The air shifted again.
Heavy.
Tender.
Regina set her cup down carefully. “Emma…”
“No, I mean it.” Emma leaned forward slightly. “Back then… did you know?”
Regina hesitated.
Then nodded once.
“I knew I cared about you more than I should have,” she admitted quietly. “I knew I looked for you in every classroom. Every hallway.” She exhaled slowly. “And I knew graduation terrified me.”
Emma frowned softly. “Why?”
“Because it meant losing you.”
Emma’s expression changed instantly.
Softened.
Opened.
“And maybe,” Regina admitted, voice barely above a whisper, “because by then I was already in far deeper than I wanted to be.”
Emma stayed completely still.
Regina gave a quiet, self-conscious laugh.
“I was young, Emma. Barely older than any of you, honestly. Fresh out of university trying desperately to prove I belonged there.” She shook her head faintly. “I spent my entire first year terrified someone would realise I had no idea what I was doing.”
Emma smiled softly. “You always seemed so confident.”
“I was performing confidence.”
Emma’s eyes gentled.
“And then there was you,” Regina continued.
Emma’s breath caught.
“You made everything harder,” Regina confessed. “You stayed after lessons asking questions you already knew the answers to. You looked at me like I mattered.” Her throat tightened. “And every time you walked into a room, I noticed.”
Emma looked utterly wrecked now.
“At first I told myself it was harmless,” Regina admitted. “That it was admiration. Concern. Anything except what it actually was.” A sad smile crossed her face. “But graduation got closer and all I could think about was losing the one person I spent every day trying not to think about.”
“Regina…”
“I was scared,” she whispered. “Scared of the feelings themselves. Scared of what they meant. And scared because some part of me knew that if I let myself want you…” She laughed weakly. “I would never stop.”
Silence settled over the table.
Warm somehow despite the ache of it.
Emma reached across the table slowly, giving Regina every opportunity to pull away.
She didn’t.
Emma’s hand covered hers gently.
“You know how many times I nearly emailed you after graduation?” Emma asked quietly.
Regina blinked. “What?”
Emma laughed softly at herself, looking down at her coffee for a moment. “I used to write them all the time.”
Something in Regina’s chest tightened painfully.
“What sort of emails?”
Emma smiled faintly. “Mostly stupid things.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Things I wanted to tell you. Questions about books you mentioned in class. Updates about my life. Sometimes I’d just… write about my day.”
Regina stared at her.
“I had this entire folder full of drafts,” Emma admitted. “Hundreds of them probably.”
“Emma…”
“But I never had a way to send them.” Emma looked up then, eyes soft and unbearably open. “I didn’t have your personal email. And even if I had…” She huffed quietly. “I think I was terrified you wouldn’t answer.”
Regina’s throat tightened.
“So instead,” Emma continued, voice quieter now, “I got a little pathetic.”
A small smile tugged at Regina’s mouth despite herself. “Only a little?”
Emma snorted softly. “Okay, deeply pathetic.”
Regina laughed then, warm and helpless.
Emma’s expression gentled immediately at the sound, like she’d missed it too.
“There was this period a couple of years after graduation,” Emma admitted carefully, “where I’d walk past the school around closing time.”
Regina’s breath caught.
“Emma…”
“I knew your car,” Emma said with an embarrassed smile. “Which is probably creepy in hindsight.”
“It was the black Mercedes.”
Emma pointed at her immediately. “See? You remember.”
“Unfortunately.”
Emma grinned briefly before her expression softened again.
“I used to walk by after work sometimes just hoping I’d catch a glimpse of you leaving.” Her voice lowered slightly. “Just for a second.”
Regina could barely breathe now.
“You did that for years?”
Emma nodded once.
“There were days I’d see you through the windows packing up your classroom.” A quiet laugh escaped her. “And honestly? That would make my entire week.”
Regina looked completely stricken.
“Why didn’t you come in?”
Emma’s smile turned sad around the edges.
“Because I didn’t trust myself to.” She held Regina’s gaze steadily. “I think if I’d seen you face-to-face back then, I would’ve told you everything.”
The confession settled heavily between them.
Raw.
Tender.
Regina looked down briefly, blinking hard against the sudden ache in her chest.
“All this time…” she whispered.
Emma’s thumb brushed gently across Regina’s knuckles.
“I never got over you,” she admitted softly. “I tried. God, I tried.” She shook her head faintly. “But nobody ever felt like you.”
Regina’s eyes lifted back to hers slowly.
“You should have come in,” she said before she could stop herself.
Emma went still.
Regina laughed weakly at herself, emotion catching in her throat. “If I’d known you were out there…” she admitted quietly, “I would have walked outside every single time.”
Emma’s breath caught sharply.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
Then, very carefully, Emma asked, “You really would have wanted to see me?”
Regina looked almost startled by the question. “Yes,” she said immediately. “God, yes.”Her voice softened after a moment, regret creeping in around the edges. “We wasted so much time.”
Emma was quiet for a second, thumb still moving gently against Regina’s hand. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But honestly? I think I needed some of those years.”
Regina frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”
Emma gave a small shrug, though her expression stayed thoughtful.
“I was eighteen when I graduated. I had no idea who I was back then.” A soft laugh escaped her. “I was angry at everything. Defensive. Kind of a disaster.”
“You were not a disaster.”
Emma raised an eyebrow. “Regina, I once got detention for arguing with a substitute teacher about The Great Gatsby.”
“You were right about The Great Gatsby.”
Emma grinned. “See? That’s exactly the kind of thing that made me fall in love with you.”
The words landed between them gently.
Not dramatic.
Not rushed.
Just honest.
Regina’s breath caught softly.
Emma’s expression shifted immediately, suddenly uncertain. “Too much?”
“No,” Regina said quickly. “No, I just…” She shook her head faintly. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before.”
Emma looked at her then with an almost unbearable amount of tenderness.
“Well,” she said quietly, “it’s true.”
Regina looked down briefly, gathering herself.
“And I did grow up,” Emma continued after a moment. “A lot.” Her thumb brushed across Regina’s knuckles again. “Back then I loved you in this overwhelming, confusing way where I didn’t even understand what I was feeling half the time.”
Regina’s breath caught softly at the word loved.
Emma squeezed her hand lightly.
“But now?” Regina asked quietly.
“Now I know exactly what this feeling is. And I know what I want.” Her mouth curved into something soft and certain. “I think meeting you again now means I actually have a chance of doing this right.”
Something warm and dangerous curled low in Regina’s chest.
Emma took a breath then, visibly working up courage again.
“So…” She huffed a small laugh. “Can I ask you something without sounding like a complete idiot?”
Regina’s lips curved. “Unlikely, but go on.”
Emma rolled her eyes affectionately.
“Would you let me take you on a proper date?”
The question settled warmly between them.
Simple.
Earnest.
Ten years too late and exactly on time. Regina tilted her head slightly. “A proper date?”
“Yeah. An actual one.” Emma smiled nervously. “No school reunion. No emotional revelations over terrible diner coffee. Just… dinner. Maybe a walk after. Me trying very hard not to stare at you the entire evening.”
Regina laughed softly.
Emma visibly relaxed at the sound “You’re making fun of me.”
“A little.”
“Cruel.”
“And yet you’re still asking.”
Emma leaned forward slightly then, eyes warm and hopeful.
“Regina.”
God.
The way Emma said her name now- careful and affectionate and entirely hers, nearly undid her.
So Regina finally relented.
“Yes,” she said softly. “I’d like that very much.”
Emma’s smile arrived slowly.
Disbelieving at first.
Then radiant.
And Regina thought helplessly that she could spend the rest of her life chasing that expression.
———
Three days later, Regina changed outfits four times.
Which was absurd.
Completely absurd.
She was a grown woman. A composed, intelligent vice principal who had dealt with furious parents, impossible school boards, and entire halls full of hormonal teenagers without breaking a sweat.
And yet one date with Emma Swan apparently reduced her to pacing barefoot around her bedroom muttering at her wardrobe.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she informed her reflection.
The reflection looked unconvinced. The doorbell rang and Regina froze. Her stomach flipped so violently it was honestly humiliating.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
She smoothed down the front of her dark green dress one final time before heading downstairs.
And then she opened the door. Emma stood there holding flowers. Regina blinked. Emma immediately looked nervous. “Too much?”
“No,” Regina said quickly. “No, I just…” She stared at the bouquet for a moment. “No one’s brought me flowers in a very long time.”
Emma’s expression softened instantly.
“Well,” she said quietly, offering them to her, “that seems like a mistake.”
Something about that nearly wrecked Regina on the spot. She took them carefully. “They’re beautiful.”
Emma smiled, visibly relaxing. “You look…” Her eyes travelled over Regina slowly before she caught herself. “Wow.”
Heat rose unexpectedly to Regina’s cheeks. “You clean up rather well yourself, Miss Swan.”
Emma groaned immediately. “Okay, see? Now I’m nervous again.”
“You were nervous before?”
“Regina, I nearly drove away twice.”
That startled a genuine laugh out of her. Emma looked absurdly pleased with herself for causing it.
“Worth it,” she murmured.
Dinner turned out to be easier than Regina expected.
Not because the tension disappeared, if anything it deepened- but because Emma still fit beside her so naturally.
They talked through the entire meal.
About books.
Films.
Emma’s disastrous attempts at cooking.
“You nearly set pasta on fire?” Regina asked incredulously.
“In my defence, the pan was aggressive.”
“The pan was aggressive.”
“Yes.”
Regina shook her head fondly. “And they trust you with ambulances.”
“They trust me specifically because I survived the pasta incident.”
By the time dessert arrived Regina’s face hurt from smiling. Emma noticed immediately.
“What?” Regina asked.
Emma looked suddenly shy.
“You’re happier tonight.”
Regina stilled slightly.
“You looked lonely at the reunion,” Emma admitted softly.
The honesty of it caught her off guard. Regina glanced down at her wine glass briefly before admitting, “I think I was.”
Emma didn’t hesitate.
“Well,” she said gently, “you don’t have to be anymore.”
The words settled somewhere deep inside Regina’s chest.
Carefully.
Permanently.
After dinner they walked through the city beneath the glow of streetlights and the lingering chill of evening air.
Not touching.
Close enough to.
Every few seconds Regina became acutely aware of Emma beside her- the brush of her shoulder, the warmth of her presence, the quiet way she kept glancing over as though reassuring herself Regina was still there.
Eventually Emma stopped walking. Regina turned towards her slowly. Emma looked nervous again. Terrified, actually.
“What is it?” Regina asked softly.
Emma laughed weakly. “I’m trying very hard to act normal around you.”
“You’re failing somewhat.”
“Yeah,” Emma whispered. “I know.”
Their eyes met. And suddenly Regina understood with startling clarity that Emma was waiting.
Not assuming.
Waiting.
Giving her the choice.
After ten years of restraint and distance and almosts. Regina stepped closer before she could overthink it.
Emma inhaled sharply.
“You know,” Regina murmured, fingertips brushing lightly against Emma’s jaw, “for someone who spent years walking past my school hoping to catch a glimpse of me…”
Emma smiled softly. “Yeah?”
“You are remarkably patient.”
Emma’s eyes dropped briefly to Regina’s lips.
“Only because you’re worth waiting for.”
And that-
That was what finally shattered the last of Regina’s restraint.
She kissed her.
Softly at first.
Tentatively.
A quiet, careful thing full of ten years of longing.
Emma made a small broken sound against her mouth and suddenly her hands were trembling where they settled gently against Regina’s waist like she still couldn’t quite believe this was allowed.
Regina kissed her again.
And this time Emma kissed her back properly.
Warm.
Certain.
Like coming home after being lost for years. When they finally pulled apart both of them were breathing unevenly.
Emma rested her forehead lightly against Regina’s and laughed quietly.
“So,” she whispered, eyes bright, “definitely better than the emails.”
Regina smiled helplessly against her mouth.
“Infinitely”
———
Six months later, Emma still sometimes caught Regina looking at her like she wasn’t entirely real.
Usually it happened during quiet moments.
Sunday mornings.
Late evenings.
The soft in-between parts of life they had never imagined they would actually get to have.
Like now.
Emma stood in Regina’s kitchen wearing grey joggers and an old T-shirt, attempting to make coffee while Regina sat at the island marking papers with reading glasses perched low on her nose.
“You’re staring again,” Emma said casually.
“I am not.”
Emma smirked without turning around. “You absolutely are.”
Regina made a thoughtful hum. “Perhaps I simply enjoy the view.”
Emma nearly dropped the coffee spoon.
It still did that to her.
Even now.
Six months together and Regina flirting openly remained deeply unfair to Emma’s blood pressure.
“You can’t just say things like that while I’m handling boiling water,” Emma complained.
Regina’s lips twitched faintly. “You’re very dramatic before caffeine.”
“You love me.”
The words slipped out naturally now.
Easy.
Certain.
Emma still occasionally felt overwhelmed by that fact. That she got to say it aloud. That Regina never hesitated hearing it.
This time Regina looked up immediately from her papers, expression softening in that way Emma would never stop chasing.
“I do,” she said simply.
Emma smiled helplessly to herself and carried two mugs over to the island.
Regina accepted hers with a quiet murmur of thanks before returning to her marking.
Emma leaned against the counter beside her.
“You know,” she said after a moment, “this is still weird.”
Regina glanced up. “What is?”
“You.” Emma gestured vaguely. “Us. The fact that I get to just… be here.”
Something tender crossed Regina’s face.
“You’re here rather often, Miss Swan.”
Emma grinned. “Yeah, well. You keep feeding me.”
“That was not intentional. You simply refuse to leave.”
“Correct.”
Regina shook her head fondly before returning to her papers.
Emma watched her quietly for a moment.
The confidence in her now still struck Emma sometimes.
Not because Regina had ever lacked strength- she had always possessed that in abundance, but because now there was softness alongside it. Ease. A kind of happiness Emma suspected Regina had denied herself for years.
And maybe the strangest part of all was that Emma had helped put it there.
“Now who’s staring,” Regina observed without looking up.
Emma smiled.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “Can’t help it.”
Regina finally looked up then.
“What is it?”
Emma hesitated. Then laughed quietly at herself. “I walked past the school yesterday.”
Regina blinked.
“What?”
“Not in a creepy way,” Emma clarified quickly. “I was nearby for work.” Her smile softened slightly. “And I realised I don’t do it anymore.”
Regina went very still.
Emma shrugged lightly. “For years it became this habit, you know? Every time I was near that part of town…” She smiled faintly. “Part of me always hoped I’d catch a glimpse of you.”
Regina stared at her for a long moment before quietly setting her pen down.
“Emma.”
“But yesterday,” Emma continued softly, “I realised I wasn’t looking at the windows anymore.”
“Why not?”
Emma stepped closer slowly until she stood directly beside Regina’s chair.
Then she reached down, brushing her fingers gently along Regina’s jaw.
“Because now,” she murmured, “I know where to find you.”
Regina’s expression cracked open completely at that.
God.
Emma would never stop loving the way Regina looked at her when she forgot to be guarded.
Regina reached for her immediately, fingers curling around the fabric of Emma’s shirt and tugging her closer until Emma was standing between her knees.
“You realise,” Regina said softly, “that you are catastrophically romantic.”
Emma grinned. “You like it.”
“I adore it.”
Emma kissed her then.
Slowly.
Comfortably.
Nothing like the desperate uncertainty of their first kiss outside the restaurant months ago.
This one felt lived in.
Certain.
Home.
When they finally pulled apart Regina rested her forehead lightly against Emma’s stomach, arms still wrapped around her waist.
“You know,” she murmured, voice quieter now, “sometimes I still think about all that wasted time.”
Emma’s expression gentled instantly.
She slid her fingers carefully through Regina’s hair.
“I know.”
“I wish I’d been braver.”
Emma shook her head immediately.
“No.” Her voice was soft but sure. “You were exactly who you needed to be back then. And honestly?” She smiled faintly. “So was I.”
Regina looked up at her.
Emma brushed her thumb lightly across Regina’s cheek.
“I needed those years,” she admitted. “I needed to grow up. To figure myself out.” Her smile turned warm around the edges. “Otherwise I probably would’ve spent this entire relationship panicking every time you looked at me.”
Regina’s mouth curved slowly. “You still panic a little.”
“That’s because you’re hot. Completely different issue.”
Regina laughed- bright and helpless and real.
And even now, after all these months, the sound still felt like something Emma had earned.
Outside, rain tapped softly against the windows.
Inside, Regina kissed her again.
And neither of them wasted another second.
———
The first time Emma went to the school properly, she nearly turned around in the car park.
Old habits, apparently, died hard.
For years she had stood across the street at closing time pretending she just happened to be passing by, stealing occasional glimpses of Regina through classroom windows whenever she got lucky enough to catch her still working late.
Now she was actually walking through the front doors.
Which somehow felt far more terrifying.
The receptionist barely glanced up. “Can I help you?”
“Uh…” Emma rubbed the back of her neck instinctively. “…I’m here for Regina Mills?”
The woman’s expression changed immediately into something knowing.
“Oh,” she said with a smile. “You’re Emma.”
Emma blinked. “That obvious, huh?”
The receptionist laughed softly. “Room 214. She’s still with students.”
Emma thanked her and headed upstairs, her pulse doing increasingly embarrassing things the closer she got.
Room 214.
The same classroom.
Same polished floors. Same glass panels in the doors.
Emma stopped just outside automatically. And for one strange moment she was eighteen again.
Restless.
Nervous.
Hopelessly in love with the woman standing at the front of the classroom.
Regina looked up mid-sentence and immediately caught sight of her through the glass.
Everything in her face softened. Emma still wasn’t used to being the cause of that expression.
“Well,” Regina said smoothly to the students in front of her, “it appears someone is distracting me.”
A few students turned immediately.
Emma tried not to laugh at how quickly several of them looked between her and Regina with blatant curiosity.
Regina closed the folder in her hands. “Finish the final paragraph quietly, please.”
Then she walked towards the door. Actually walked towards Emma this time. Not just a glimpse through a window.
Emma smiled helplessly as Regina stepped into the corridor.
“You know,” Regina said quietly, “you are allowed inside the building now.”
Emma grinned. “Still getting used to that.”
Regina’s expression softened instantly.
Without thinking, she reached out and straightened the collar of Emma’s jacket gently. The gesture was so natural, so domestic somehow, that Emma’s chest ached with it.
“You came.”
“You invited me.”
“Yes, but you still looked like you were considering fleeing when I saw you through the door.”
“I was.”
Regina laughed softly. “Come inside. I only need another ten minutes.”
Emma followed her into the classroom trying very hard not to feel emotionally compromised by literally everything.
The students definitely noticed her.
One girl near the front openly smiled at Regina. “Is this your girlfriend?”
Emma nearly choked. Regina, somehow, remained composed.
“Yes,” she answered simply.
Emma stared at her. The student looked delighted. “That’s adorable.”
“Focus on your work, Miss Carter.”
The girl grinned unrepentantly and bent back over her notebook.
Emma moved towards Regina’s desk, lowering her voice. “You just said that so casually.”
Regina looked up from gathering papers. “Should I not have?”
“No, I just…” Emma shook her head, smiling stupidly now. “I like hearing it.”
Something warm flickered across Regina’s face. “Well,” she murmured, quieter this time, “you are.”
God.
Emma was never surviving this relationship.
———
By the time the students finally left, Emma was leaning against Regina’s desk scrolling through her phone while Regina packed her bag.
“You know,” Emma said casually, “this is way less stressful than watching you through windows like a Victorian ghost.”
Regina paused mid-motion and looked at her flatly.
“You compared yourself to a ghost.”
“A romantic ghost.”
“A deeply concerning sentence.”
Emma grinned.
Regina shook her head fondly before slipping her bag onto her shoulder. “Come on. I need to stop by the staff room.”
Emma followed beside her through the corridors.
It felt surreal.
Teachers nodded at Regina as they passed, several smiling curiously at Emma.
When they reached the staff room, the door swung open before Regina could touch it.
Ruby Lucas stepped out carrying a stack of folders and immediately blinked.
“Swan?”
Emma laughed immediately. “Hey, Ms Lucas.”
Ruby looked between her and Regina once.
Then her entire face lit up with understanding.
“Oh my God,” she said slowly. “Oh my God.”
Regina sighed instantly. “Ruby, don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Ruby demanded. “React to the fact that the student who spent two years painfully in love with you is apparently now your girlfriend?”
Emma nearly walked directly back out of the building.
“Oh, good,” Ruby continued brightly. “Still easy to embarrass.”
Regina pinched the bridge of her nose. “I truly regret introducing you two to each other.”
“You didn’t introduce us,” Ruby reminded her. “I taught Emma history for three years.”
Emma pointed accusingly. “And apparently mocked me psychologically the entire time.”
Ruby barked out a laugh. “Emma, you used to volunteer for every errand that involved walking past Regina’s classroom.”
“That is slander.”
“You offered to reorganise another teacher’s filing cabinet because Regina was supervising detention nearby.”
Regina made a soft strangled sound that was definitely laughter.
Emma looked betrayed. “You knew about that?”
“Sweetheart,” Ruby said gently, “the whole staff knew.”
“Oh my God.”
Another voice drifted from inside the staff room. “What’s all the shouting about?”
Mary Margaret Blanchard appeared holding a mug of tea, and immediately broke into a smile.
“Emma Swan.”
Emma grinned despite herself. “Hey, Ms Blanchard.”
Mary Margaret hugged her warmly before pulling back. “This is much nicer than the tragic pining from ten years ago.”
Emma groaned loudly. “Why is everyone in this building aware of my business?”
Mary Margaret looked genuinely confused. “Emma, you once stayed after school for forty minutes because Regina mentioned liking a particular author and you wanted book recommendations.”
Emma looked scandalised. “That sounds romantic when you say it like that.”
“It was romantic,” Ruby informed her.
Regina was visibly trying not to smile now.
Emma narrowed her eyes immediately. “You are enjoying this far too much.”
“A little,” Regina admitted.
Mary Margaret sipped her tea thoughtfully. “To be fair, Regina wasn’t exactly subtle either.”
Regina froze.
Emma turned slowly. “Excuse me?”
Ruby burst out laughing immediately.
“Oh, this is fun.”
“Ruby,” Regina warned.
“No, no,” Ruby continued gleefully. “Tell her about the parent-teacher evening.”
Mary Margaret looked delighted. “Oh, when Regina got jealous?”
Emma blinked. “Regina got what?”
“I did not get jealous,” Regina argued immediately.
Ruby looked unconvinced. “A parent flirted with Emma while she was helping set up chairs and you looked ready to commit violence.”
“They were forty.”
Emma stared openly now. “You were jealous.”
Regina crossed her arms. “I was irritated.”
“That is the same thing,” Emma said.
“It is not.”
“It absolutely is,” Ruby and Mary Margaret said together.
Emma laughed helplessly as Regina glared at both of them.
“You know,” Emma said thoughtfully, “this explains a lot actually.”
Regina looked wary. “I dislike that tone.”
Emma stepped closer, smiling softly now.
“You liked me too.”
The teasing atmosphere shifted gently at that. Something quieter slipping underneath it. Regina’s expression softened almost immediately.
“Yes,” she admitted quietly. “Rather unfortunately.”
Emma’s chest tightened painfully with affection. Ruby looked between them and dramatically wiped away an imaginary tear.
“Okay, that’s disgusting. I need you both to leave.”
Mary Margaret nodded solemnly. “Far too much eye contact happening in this corridor.”
Regina sighed deeply. “We are absolutely leaving.”
Emma laughed as Regina caught her hand and tugged her gently towards the door.
But just before they stepped back into the corridor, Regina glanced at her.
Soft.
Happy.
Completely unguarded.
And Emma realised something then.
For years she had stood outside this building hoping for scraps of moments.
Now Regina was taking her hand openly in the middle of the school hallway.
No hiding.
No wondering.
Just them.