You & me... Neverland (SWANQUEEN)

Chapter 2

Hook's booming voice, usually torn, low and intentionally controlled, echoes in her ears unsettlingly lilting and sharp. She opens one eye, just one, and her ear sharpens while the rest of her body wakes up more slowly.

"Clear water, clear water ..." Yes, definitely Hook. And he goes humming down the aisle of the boat, like a little girl, on his way to the deck. Which is really weird. But not as much as the warmth of another body next to hers, that other scent mixed with her own smell or the brown color of a lock of hair that rests next to her face. Her body wakes up and does the math while she orientates herself with a thump of reality. She isn't in her room and, of course, she is not alone.

She opens her second eye suddenly. She's lying on Regina, body against body, exactly in the way they lied when they fell exhausted hours earlier. She takes a deep breath trying to remember, to assimilate what now on reflection looks like the craziest thing she's ever done. Her sudden inhalation pushes Regina's body imperceptibly but it's enough for the brunette to open her eyes, out of place and with a numb and strange expression.

Clear and brown eyes make contact recognizing each other and remembering together what happened. Everything. Emma feels red coloring her cheeks and Regina, if not for being newly awakened, would be redder than numb.

Hook's voice coming back down the hallway breaks the awkward moment. Emma, slightly more awake, asks for silence to Regina's open eyes with her index finger on her own lips. The mayor nods assertively and both of them hear the footsteps get lost in their way to the kitchen.

"We're there ... Clear water, clear water"

Until silence reigns the room again, none makes a noise; and Regina is the first one who dares to speak.

"Now." Above of all, concise and direct. Emma nods and gets ready to move, to leave the bed and move away from the mayor's totally naked body. She tries not to look, to no avail, and she also tries not to blush, without success either. There is no blanket to cover herself with and she is thankful that Regina is subtly inspecting her own hands and nails in detail, providing some privacy.

"What the hell do I get dressed with?" Emma's angry whisper gets Regina's attention back. She turns to the saivor covered only by a pillow and has to bite her lips to suppress a smile. The blonde remains in the center of the room, disheveled, in underwear and clutching the shreds of cloth that at some point were her clothes.

"With magic." She hisses, evil.

"You're kidding me, right?" Behind the pillow, Regina shrugs. "How?" She whispers, desperate. "Teach me."

These words send a short-circuit straight to the brunette's spine, who shifts on the bed. Memories of a sweaty and provocative Emma begging to learn magic shake her entrails and she finds herself clearing her throat to avoid blushing.

"All rise!" Hook's now controlled booming voice resonates down the aisle, distracting both women and allowing Regina to compose herself. "Wake up!"

"We have to hurry. Maybe some other time." The brunette whispers snapping her fingers and covering Emma's hand with her distinctive purple fog. When she looks again she's holding her unscratched shirt and pants.

"Maybe." She replies, getting dressed and coming back to the stark reality of having to sneak out of the Evil Queen's chambers, where she slept last night. She stumbles with her pants and buttons her shirt in her way to the door.

"Wait." Regina demands, using the sheet as a makeshift dress and slowly approaching to her.

"What?" Emma swallows hard looking down her footsteps.

"You can't go yet," Regina decides, a few inches away, raising towards her the hand that isn't holding the white cloth to her chest. The blonde holds her breath and her skin crawls waiting for the other woman's touch. But it doesn't come. It slides in the air and surrounds her with its magic. Emma remains straight against the door, waiting without asking. "Better." Regina whispers, stepping back a little to better look at Emma, or the place where blonde's silhouette should be.