"Oh," Regina sighs happily. Emma can see the taut lines around Regina's mouth smoothing out, the creases on her forehead fading away. "And what exactly do you want?"
"This," Emma says, pulling Regina's robe apart but then leaning over her to snag one of the glasses from the table. "So thirsty."
Regina glares, because even now she's unaccustomed to being denied everything she wants. And the flush on her chest and the fire in her eyes suggest that right now, Regina wants nothing but Emma.
But Emma wants a little control back in her life after these chaotic few days. She wants something familiar, something she can dictate with her own words and actions. No more running around like a victim, not tonight.
"Mmm," she says, licking her lips after taking a long sip from the glass. "I needed that. What do you need, Regina?"
They're talking quietly, mindful of the smaller space and only one closed door between them and their sleeping son, but Emma can already see the slightly desperate way Regina's breath hitches in her throat, and doesn't miss the frustration of Regina biting down gently on her own bottom lip.
"I'm sure you know by now, dear," Regina replies. "Unless you're overwhelmed with all the memories of your ex, since we're in her bed."
"Kalinda didn't have this place when I knew her," Emma says, sliding an ice cube from the glass into her mouth and crunching it with relish. "But jealousy is an interesting development, coming from you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Regina hisses, propping herself up a little further on her elbows. She'd have an easier time looking indignant if her robe hadn't fallen open, exposing her bare breasts to Emma's hungry gaze.
"A few weeks ago you'd have died rather than admit you feel anything about me," Emma says, quite calmly. "Especially not something as strong as jealousy."
"I'm not… jealous," Regina flounders, unconvincing. A lot of her familiar masks have fallen aside as Emma unearthed the truth, as the curse broke around them, and now it's both thrilling and terrifying to finally see the real person underneath it all. "You flatter yourself, Miss Swan."
"Hey," Emma reminds her. "Don't go back to that. First names or bust, right?"
"Fine. Em-ma," Regina draws the two syllables out into a childish taunt. "Are you done teasing me, Emma? How about you put that glass down and start doing something more useful with that pretty little mouth, Emma? Hmm?"
"You really are fucking impossible," Emma sighs, running her free hand through her wet hair. She's about to put the glass down when the idea strikes her. She reaches into the glass and plucks the largest chunk of ice from it, before putting the glass back where it belongs. "But look at you, all hot and bothered…"
Regina's dark eyes light up as Emma's hand hovers over her chest, cool water splashing in one drip and then another.
"Want me to cool you down?" Emma asks, unable to resist the cheesy line. Regina just smirks, challenging as ever.
With the cube pinched between thumb and forefinger, Emma presses it against the base of Regina's throat. That it's wet from the glass makes it easy to glide along the sharp line of her collarbone, and Emma smiles at the first cautious gasp that falls from Regina's lips; ice queen indeed.
From there Emma traces loops much like her own signature over the plane of Regina's chest, slowing the pace as she approaches each dusky pink areola. "You like?" Emma asks in almost a whisper. She's hoping the answer is yes because she's enjoying the view too much to want to stop.
"Mmmm," Regina confirms, arching her back slightly to encourage Emma to continue. Emma changes course, raising the melting ice to Regina's mouth, tracing each lip with a rounded corner before bending to kiss her and let her tongue retrace the ice's path.
"I've missed you," Emma says softly against Regina's mouth.
"I've been right here," Regina whispers in reply.
And that's where Emma's hastily concocted plan crumbles. She's been nursing a vision of teasing Regina for hours, of running ice over hipbones and nipples using her fingers and then her mouth, but the urgency is too great. Perhaps tomorrow (because they have a tomorrow, and should have another after that, now) Emma can get into the elaborate games. Tonight she needs the immediacy, the contact, the heat of Regina and nothing in the way of it.
The remnant of the ice is thrown on the floor as Emma kisses Regina again, this time pressing her palms against Regina's cheeks, trying to temper the desperation a little with sweetness. Regina, for her part, responds exactly as Emma had hoped, leaning up into the kiss and then leveraging their bodies until Regina can roll on top.
It's one flick of her fingers to undo Emma's remaining towel, and another to tease a nipple fully erect.
"Please," Emma mutters, turning her face towards the pillows with their plain white covers. "Please."
"Ssh," Regina soothes, sitting up as she straddles Emma. "I've got you."
And this is what she's been waiting for, Emma realizes. After long, dark days of running and fighting and fleeing, she needs Regina to take charge again, just for a little while.
Which Regina does smoothly, her hands already cupping and caressing Emma's breasts, thumbs stroking hard nipples. "We're okay," Regina whispers, as Emma's hands grip Regina's thighs. "We're okay."
From there she rolls off Emma, pulls her closer as they lay side by side, kissing tenderly. Regina smiles as they each guide a hand between the other's thighs, encountering slick, warm arousal that's very welcoming to determined fingers.
Their breasts pressed together, hips rocking gently in time with each other, both women find themselves moaning contentedly into their kisses. Emma's free hand is wrapped in Regina's hair, while Regina's fingers are massaging Emma's shoulder. It's not the most intense climax of their time together, but Emma feels the pleasant build and crash appear almost out of nowhere, equal parts release and relief. Regina follows a minute or so later, Emma's fingers never having stilled.
"Better?" Regina asks, sounding sleepy and fumbling with the sheets.
"Much," Emma agrees, already drifting towards the promise of comfortable and uninterrupted sleep. The last thing she remembers is Regina kissing her forehead before everything goes dark.
Emma wakes up with a jolt, feeling a hand on her shoulder, shaking her hard. She's ready to attack, to launch herself at whoever the hell is grabbing her when Regina's panicked face comes into focus.
"Get up!" Regina hisses, her grip almost bone-crushing. "There's someone here. Talking to Henry."
That's enough to get Emma moving, and she almost forgets her nakedness in her hurry. Catching herself in time, she clutches at Regina's robe and then for the holstered gun she left on the floor, approaching the bedroom door quickly and quietly. Regina is throwing on yesterday's clothes, ready to follow.
Emma throws the door open and brandished the gun. She's beyond relieved to see that Henry's company is Kalinda, although it means Henry must have unchained the door to let her in and that's a risk he should know better than to take.
"Nice welcome," Kalinda says drily, sipping at her takeaway coffee. There are other cups, and some promising bags of what might be food sitting on the kitchen counter.
"You could have told me you were coming," Emma grouses, as Regina barrels into her back. "It's okay, babe. Just Kalinda."
"What are you doing with my son?" Regina demands as she comes out of the bedroom, stepping away from Emma. "Henry, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Mom," Henry sighs. "Besides, it's her apartment. Was I supposed to lock her out of it?"
Emma wants to scream that—yes—he should have, but she's too relieved and too tired to do any such thing. He should have come to wake them, she thinks, but there's no telling this kid anything once he has an idea in his head.
"Thanks for the breakfast, K," Emma says carefully, trying to defuse the situation a little. Regina is still bristling as she stands next to Emma, and there's some serious staring of daggers in Kalinda's general direction.
"I've got some stuff here you said you might need," Kalinda replies, gesturing to the duffel bag by her feet on the floor. Emma lets her gaze linger on the knee-high boots, feeling a little guilty for checking them out when Regina is right there in the room, but hey, Emma doesn't get caught.
"Pass me a coffee," Regina says to Henry, who obeys easily enough. "And please, Ms Sharma, tell us what you've found out."