Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any recognizable characters.

AN: I couldn't get this out of my head last night. I was literally up until 3 when I decided to just write it so I could get some sleep. This makes up for the fact that Emma is being a douche in my other fic. I also took liberties with the timeline since I know in the show it hasn't hit December yet, but I hope you like it!


Chapter One

Emma was never one to be superstitious or believe any sort of media hype. She lived in cities surviving West Nile and Swine Flu, lived through Y2K and adored end-of-the-world movies, Deep Impact being one of her favourites. But there was this nagging feeling in the back of her mind as December 21st 2012 crept closer and closer that perhaps her time on Earth was limited.

The thought never really occurred to her until a week prior when the weather seemed to be going through a cold spot then warm up to spring temperatures, and the lack of snow falling in Maine was disconcerting. She'd read it all, of course. Revelations, theories behind the Mayans and some of Nostradamus' predictions which did nothing except fuel the uncertainty that Emma Swan, and everyone she ever knew, only had a week left to live.

So here she was, on the eve of the end of the world, sitting in her office looking over paperwork. She didn't want to go out this way. She was almost thirty. She should have a family by now. Yes, she had Henry, and Mary Margaret was the best friend she could ever ask for, but loneliness made itself known to the Sheriff more and more as the hours ticked away closer and closer to doomsday.

She spent her days lost in her thoughts, wondering if she'd get to see this Christmas, yearning to spend a Christmas with a family. Her family. That didn't necessarily include her parents, wherever they may be. In fact, the blonde had been acutely aware of a certain mayoral presence in her life for the past few months. But now with hours left on the clock, Regina had unknowingly carved a nice niche in Emma's mind and her heart.

At first, she attributed their relationship as strictly argumentative. Their back-and-forth wordplay was refreshing and invigorating, and Emma found herself picking battles with the temperamental Mayor just to get a rise out of her.

Then it turned to Emma noticing certain aspects of Regina she was sure no one else picked up on. Like the way her eyes spoke volumes despite what her mouth or body language said. Or the way Regina ran her hands through her hair, tucking them behind her ears twice whenever she was flustered.

But of course, Emma never revealed any of these observations to the woman in question. There was no doubt in Emma's mind that Regina would laugh and humiliate Emma for her admission of something as whimsical as feelings.

In any other circumstance, Emma would just let these feelings fester, releasing her stress through picked fights with the brunette or long, cold showers. But this was no ordinary day. The world was ending in roughly six hours, and she'd be damned if she didn't go out with a bang. Making up her mind, Emma dropped her unfinished paperwork, reasoning that if it was still here on the 22nd she'd do it then, grabbed her leather jacket and drove to the mayoral mansion.


Emma almost chickened out on her drive to Regina's, but the radio host's topic of the day was 2012, so the Sheriff took it as a sign to press on.

By the time she reached the mansion, it was already quite dark, the temperature dropping below freezing. She exhaled, watching her breath condense in the cold night air before steeling her shoulders and knocking confidently on the door.

It was only a few moments before Regina answered the door. Emma gulped taking in as much of the Mayor as she could memorize. Her eyes traveled down the form-fitting grey dress that accentuated her breasts nicely to the stocking clad legs which stood tall and seductive in black pumps. If she was the last thing Emma saw before the gods struck them down then Emma would die a happy woman.

"Can I help you, Sheriff Swan?" Regina stood in the doorway, confused by the unexpected visit.

Emma pulled her jacket around her tighter to fight off the chill before catching Regina's brown eyes.

"I think you're really pretty." She spoke with such confidence that the randomness of her statement was barely felt.

Regina looked taken aback, but Emma could already see the older woman putting up her walls. "You came all the way here to compliment me?"

"It's December 20th," Emma offered up lamely. She continued when the brunette gave her a look indicating she had no idea what she was referring to. "The world's supposed to end tomorrow. It might end at midnight or tomorrow night. We might freeze over or burn in flames or aliens might come down taking over."

Emma stepped closer to Regina, her nervousness still there but she couldn't find it in her to care. "If the world ends tomorrow, I just wanted to let you know that I think you're really pretty and I might have more than a crush on you."

Her gaze dropped to Regina's parted lips as she watched the brunette gasp softly. She wanted to kiss those lips, but the rational side of her warned her that she was far too cold to be receiving a slap to the face. But she was never one to listen to her rational side. Fuck it.

She closed the gap between them and caught Regina's lips between her own, coaxing them to respond. The uncertainty the blonde previously felt was lifted when she felt Regina's lips move against her own, engaging in the kiss with fervor and relief.

They must have stood on the porch for minutes, but to Emma, it felt like sweet, drawn out hours spent in the embrace of the woman she craved for.

Emma was the first to pull back, unwillingly so, but she reveled in the notion that she had left Regina dumbstruck as the brunette stood there, her flesh heated, her breathing laboured and her eyes pooling with desire.

Offering up a small smile, Emma spoke blissfully out of breath. "In case I don't see you tomorrow."

She turned, doing little to hide the grin on her face and refrained from pumping a fist in the air in victory. Instead she let her fingers trail over her lips, still tingling with the taste of apples and vanilla that was entirely Regina Mills.

Her grin widened as she relived the kiss. Oh yeah. She could die happy now.


If I'm still here on the 22nd I think I'll add another chapter.