(AN warning: some fairly mild sexual content, mostly implied,  towards the end of this chapter.)

THREE MONTHS LATER, NEW YORK CITY.

Regina does not happen to be the most tolerant person in the world; in fact, if one looked up 'impatient' in the dictionary, it's highly likely that her picture would be right next to the definition. However, Regina likes to think that she is persevering when she has mountains of paperwork--or, she was when she was mayor of a small town. Then, if she had felt even the mere tinges of the beginnings of a migraine, she could let her secretary know before leaving for the day to go home to her mansion. But now, when she's living in a dirty city with a trying job with a low income, it's hard to take all these medical applicants with a grain of salt. She sighs as she overlooks the waiting room of impatient sick people from her small receptionist desk, and wonders why she picked this job over anything else New York has to offer.

Fifteen minutes before her lunch break, while flipping through endless files in a nearby drawer, her personal phone rings, again. In spite of herself, her breath catches in her throat before she holds the touchscreen in her hand and switches it to silent. She waits until the unwanted call rings out before letting out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Every time she gets this call--and lately it's been more and more frequent--her heart takes a minimum of five minutes to quit its racing. She's not a runner, she's not. That's what she repeats in her head like a mantra in her head until she's interrupted suddenly.

"Hey, babe!"

Regina lifts her head from her work and a relieved smile slides onto her lips as she looks into Emma's face. During the months they've been together, and since Regina finally admitted to herself that she wants this, things have been undeniably good. But, this is the first time Regina can remember that Emma has come to see her publicly, in her workplace. "Why, hello!"

Emma grins cheekily and lifts a bouquet of flowers previously hidden from view up across the counter. Shocked, Regina collects the roses into her hands and takes a whiff of their strong and sweet smell. "What's this?" She asks, but she's secretly loving the treatment.

"This exact day, four months ago, we met right here." Emma tells her with he same stupid grin that won't leave her face.

"Oh, my god! This is so cliche," Regina says, but can't deny that she's feeling particularly smitten. She sets the bouquet next to her forgotten paperwork and walks around her desk to meet her girlfriend.

"You know you love me for it." Emma smirks smugly, and Regina lets out a girlish noise that could much too easily be labeled a giggle. She hums her response, obviously in the affirmative, before making a quick decision.

She leans forward and presses a long kiss on Emma's lips, though fully aware that half the waiting room is likely ogling them. It feels like a weight has been lifted off of them--previously, Regina had felt very conservative about their relationship and hadn't wanted to make it unnecessarily public, but she suddenly finds that she doesn't give a damn as she's kissing Emma.

Emma reads her thoughts, and a euphoric expression dawns its way onto her face as she makes the connection. Regina had just taken things to the next level.

"Dinner at my place to celebrate?" Emma invites her, and Regina lets out a soft chuckle.

"To celebrate? As if I don't eat dinner at your house almost every day."

Emma blushes lightly, and ducks her head down quickly where her soft curls obstruct her face from view.

"I'll be there."  Regina tells her, moving blonde locks from her girlfriends face, while inwardly furiously pushing the unwanted phone calls from her mind.

---

At seven o'clock, Henry answers the door for Regina, and he looks at her fancier-than-normal garb with a laugh. "Just in time for the "monthiversary" I see. I tried to tell Ma that this is freaking ridiculous, but what the hell." He gives her a smirk, and lets her all the way in before shutting and bolting the door once more.

"Oh, come on, Henry. If it makes her happy. And besides, it's pretty cute." Regina lightly reprimands him, and Henry makes a show of rolling his eyes.

"Should I have worn a tie or something? Now I'm feeling underdressed." They share a laugh, and Regina absolutely revels in the moment. It had taken a long time, but Regina finally warmed up to this version of her son. It still isn't easy to see him or to hold a conversation--she highly doubts that it'll ever be--but it's gotten considerably more doable. She attributes this partly to the fact that most of the time, she pretends that he's someone else entirely. It sounds ridiculous, and it is, but it works, and it isn't as impossible as it sounds. The Henry she'd left at the town line so many years ago was a twelve-year-old boy who still easily fit under her chin, who was exactly who she'd always known him to be and what they've gone through together. Now, he's very nearly nineteen, and a young man with an entirely different set of memories, with no childish radiance that she'd grown so familiar with, and absolutely no belief in anything as ridiculous and far-fetched as fairy tales. He now has a very realistic mind, and she's so prideful at how incredibly smart and strong he'd become, but he feels almost unrecognizable without that glowing vibe that had always shown off of his boyish face, that heart of the truest believer. She still loves him--god, she loves him so much it feels sometimes as though her heart could burst--but he's so different (though not to say that he's still so entirely the same in some aspects) that it's so much easier to just pretend that he's someone else. It's how she copes, and if she doesn't overthink it too much, it can get her through the day, and it can certainly get her through their frequent banters.

Regina walks down the hall and meets Emma in the kitchen, who is wearing an extremely tasteful tight red dress that clings everywhere it should, and Regina finds herself losing focus for more than a couple seconds as she drinks in the sight in front of her.

"Like what you see," Emma presents the flirtatious question much more like a statement, and punctuates it with an over-exaggerated wink. Regina laughs and steps fully steps into the kitchenette, her stilettos making a clear and sharp click on the cheap tiling.

Regina fills up with pride and excitement when she sees what Emma is currently intent on cooking. "I see you're making the lasagna how I taught you," she remarks with a smile.

"But of course," Emma jokes, putting away the red pepper flakes.

Regina steps in and puts her hand on Emma's to stop her. "Emma, more red pepper flakes. Remember?"

Emma whines and rolls her head back onto Regina's shoulder, who's standing directly behind her. "But remember, my white ass can't handle the heat!"

Regina pries it away from her and sprinkles the correct amount on the recipe. "It tastes better this way, Dear. Trust me."

Emma takes a sip from her half-empty beer bottle that had been sitting idle on the countertop moments before. "You know, maybe you should just take charge of the cooking from here."

Regina smirks, already tying one of Emma's spare aprons around her waist. "Oh, trust me. I know."

---

It turns out, that with a fair amount of Regina's memories in Emma's skull, her taste in alcohol has gone up considerably, Regina muses. Sure, Emma still has cases of that that crappy beer, which honestly will never change, but the scotch that Emma has pulled from a high shelf is damn good quality. Regina had felt a cross between a laugh and a twinge of sadness surge from within her when she saw Emma struggle to lift the bottle from its unnecessary perch. Obviously, the scotch was stored there so Henry wouldn't be able to reach--out of instinct no doubt--but the irony is that Henry could stride in and take the bottle down easily, while Emma batted it with her fingertips while lifted onto her toes. And honestly, Regina knows that she would do the exact same thing if Henry were still her own.

Regina tips her glass towards Emma, and the blonde dutifully fills it up with scotch--it's not enough for Regina, really only a little more than a few swallows, but Regina smiles in thanks anyways and takes a small sip. The dinner had been highly enjoyable--Regina finds that she always, without fail, finds herself enjoying every moment spent with this version of Emma. And honestly, if she thinks hard enough, she realizes that she had always enjoyed Emma's company, even in the very early days. Hell if Regina hadn't wanted a challenge after managing a dull, monotonous town for decades, and Emma gave to her what she had needed easily. Of course, back then, she would have never admitted it, and she really had been terrified of losing Henry, but looking back on it now, the solution of the two of them being together was so embarrassingly obvious. It just makes so much sense.

Henry had been invited to join them for the lasagne that Regina had salvaged from Emma's failing efforts, but he had declined as politely as a boy his age can, and had made himself scarce by leaving the house entirely. When Regina thinks too long about why he would have done such a thing, she starts to feel highly uncomfortable and almost a little nervous. Amid comfortable small talk and sips of smooth scotch, Regina's phone rings for the third time that night. She blanches, and picks it up to see who the caller is, though she already knows. She switches it to silent, and watches it ring out once more, when Emma finally calls her out on it.

"Someone trying to get ahold of you?" Emma asks keenly, and Regina jumps at the sound of her voice. Her shaking fingers fumble before she turns her phone off and slips it into her pocket.

"Sorry, just--work stuff," she tells her as convincingly as she can, and hopes she doesn't look as pale as she feels.

Thankfully, Emma latches onto the lie, and kicks her feet up onto the coffee table in relaxation. "Yeah, I get it. Work can totally bite you in the ass when you're trying to have a good time. But still, I wouldn't ignore it for too long."

Regina nods, and her mouth previously sandpaper dry begins to salivate once more. "I won't, but I certainly don't want them interrupting...." she trails off while she scoots much closer to Emma on the couch, and kisses her quickly on the lips. "...this," she finishes, voice purposely husky.

Emma blindly sets her glass down on the table beside her, and turns to face her girlfriend with a smirk. "Ohhh-kay, we're going there! Hot damn, Lady." Emma teases before shifting her body to wrap around Regina's and smashes her lips against the other woman's.

Regina accepts the fervency of the kiss gladly, and by the second it's becoming less of a distraction from her problem, and more of a show-stopping, blessing of an evening that she's not going to let her nerves ruin. The kiss deepens quickly, and it's not long before Regina finds her center growing hot and in desperate need of relief. Thanks to their position, Emma's knee is conveniently close to Regina's groin, and without even thinking about it, she finds herself roughly rubbing against it.

Emma surveys the dirty change of mood with raised eyebrows; they'd made out pretty heavily before, but she certainly hadn't been expecting Regina to start dry humping her knee, and her heart begins to race. The other woman's obvious wetness turns Emma on before she even realizes what's happening, and the blonde begins to ease Regina's antics by moving her own knee herself. Regina openly moans into Emma's mouth as a result, and Emma wraps her arms around Regina's petite body to grope her bottom. With each passing moment, both women continue taking the liberty of raising the heat of the moment, further confirming the raw desire to go further, further.

Regina noisily kicks off her heels in the heat of a kiss, and Emma breaks apart panting heavily while their heads still rest inches apart, but still quirks an eyebrow as if she's still in charge of her actions. "Do you...want to move this to a bed..?" She asks her between breaths with swollen lips, purposely crafting the question to confirm consent.

"I'm afraid you'll have to lead the way, as I've never had the pleasure of seeing your bedroom." Regina pants with a slight smirk resting on her lips, as if she had enjoyed openly voicing her desire and consent. At this point, her mind and brain is blurred, and all she can think about is how long she had secretly wanted this--though she would have never admitted it until right now. Her mind's eye shows her quick and fleeting images from when she and the blonde had previously had extreme encounters of sexual tension back in Storybrooke--it feels as though there's hundreds of them, and the absolute joy of finally achieving her wildest dreams, (as well as wet dreams), is damn near euphoric.

Emma snickers almost giddily and jumps of from the couch, practically dragging Regina down the hall to her room. Before they even make it anywhere near her bed, Regina slams Emma against the wall and begins sucking on her neck, while the blonde arches her back, rolls her head on the wall, and lets out a sound that causes both woman to be immensely relieved that Henry is nowhere within earshot. Regina continues to leave a dark, bruising trail along the most tender areas of Emma's neck while she reaches behind the blonde's athletically built body and fumbles around until she locates the zipper holding her tight dress in place. She grabs hold of the pull while using the opportunity to squeeze her sculpted ass with her free hand. A few tugs later, Emma's dress is pooled around her ankles, and she's almost completely exposed; she would have felt the cold air nipping at her bare skin if it wasn't for Regina keeping her warm.

Regina takes in the sight of Emma wearing only undergarments and bites her lips as she feels her own panties begin to dampen. "Fuck," she breathes, and right then Emma knows that she's got a hold of the brunette hard, as she's not one to curse like so. Emma lifts herself off the wall and begins to sway her hips, slightly grinding herself against the still-fully clothed other woman, keeping up her dance as she unclasps her bra and flings it aside. Regina, in awe of the blonde, begins to step backward until she's fully seated on the bed, while Emma gives her something shy of a lap dance. Her soaked cotton panties soon join the pile, and the now fully-naked woman begins to free Regina of her clothing. Within a minute, Regina's blouse and dress pants are crumpled on the floor, and Regina's much too hot and bothered to be annoyed by the fact that they'll certainly need to be ironed after this.

Finally, Regina's lying flat on her back with absolutely no clothes hindering her body to be shown as beautiful as it really is. Emma is perched above her, tracing her blunt fingernail lightly around Regina's belly button and up the abdomen to circle around the two perfect mounds on her chest. Goosebumps erupt on Regina's skin and her center pulses almost painfully, where Emma's sitting right on top of her. "You're a fucking goddess," Emma breathes out in awe, capturing the brunette's mouth in a romantic kiss that contrasts with the heat of the moment.

Regina heaves out shaky breaths, her exposed chest rising and falling as she struggles to keep her mind in one place. Then she lifts her glistening eyelashes up towards the beautiful woman on top of her, with long, wavy, blonde locks curtaining her face. "Then worship me."

AN: yayyyy finally some sexy SwanQueen! Took me long enough, I know, I know. This chapter ran a little long, so hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

Oh, and any ideas on who the caller is?? You'll find out in the next chapter, and that's when the next major plot line is revealed!

Don't forget to vote, and take a little time out of your day to leave a comment to make me smile:)