Cold Cold Heart
Title: Cold Cold Heart
Pairing: Emma and Regina (sort of?)
Rating: E for everyone
Summary: A one-shot of Swan Queen stuck in a storm, written because sinful_obsessions requested it. And my brain wasn't working for my other fics.
A/N: Title from a song of the same name by Norah Jones
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, wish I did.
As the storm outside raged, they shifted in the cocoon of their clothing, huddled together in the backseat of the black Mercedes. Regina’s coat was beneath them, separating them from the cold of the seats. Emma’s was above them- a makeshift blanket. The rest of their outer clothes was piled around them to provide as much warmth as possible. Still wearing their undergarments, they jostled one another, twisting garments until they finally settled. Regina felt her body fit snugly along the other woman’s, blonde hair spilling out onto her shoulder. She tried to blow a small tendril of it out of her face. Failed. And tried it again.
The snow continued to fall around them, the only sound breaking the silence. But peace, with these two, would always be short-lived.
“I still don’t like you.” The mayor, of course.
A puff of laughter. “That,” Emma gasped as Regina’s cold nose touched her bare shoulder. “Has been made abundantly clear.”
She continued to laugh just a little, and finally the mayor rolled her eyes. “Miss Swan, I find it very hard to believe you honestly think this is funny.”
“You’re spooning me.”
The answer was matter-of-fact and immediate. “I’m stuck between you and the car,” she pointed out. And you’re warm.” Her voice took on the tone that meant a lecture was coming. Emma wiggled her shoulders, but knew better than to try and escape. There was nowhere she could go. Not with the car still snowed in. Why she’d even responded to Regina’s distress call when her car had gotten stuck in the first place was a little beyond her. Until she realized that’s what good people did. And sometimes, even the good person’s squad car got stuck while out trying to save the town bitch. So with a sigh, she just tried not to listen when Regina began. But she could still feel the vibrations of the mayor’s chest against her back.
“Once, fire was soemthing to be feared. People knew its power, and it was mysterious and unknown and deadly. Now …the fear is so much less. Oh, they know very well the fire can hurt them, that the smoke can kill them….” she paused, remembering that fire had come close to doing just that to her not long ago. But Emma had come to her rescue then, too….
She swallowed that memory and slid a little closer to Emma for reasons other than warmth. Clearing her throat, she continued. “But we know when we must huddle close to save ourselves from the cold.” Except, she knew, for cold inside one’s heart. That could never melt. She’d tried.
Against her efforts, Emma found herself listening. And was amused. “So I’m fire.” She sounded smugly pleased. Regina pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, knowing the sheriff couldn’t see. She actually hadn’t been talking about Emma. But she let the blonde reach her own conclusions about her meaning. She wasn’t here to babysit, and certainly wasn’t going to explain herself.
Emma continued absently, “So, if I’m fire, what does that make you- snow?”
The look that crossed the mayor’s face would have been enough to curdle cheese, had there been any. Her fingernails dug into the sheriff’s skin, almost but not quite drawing blood. Slowly, as if she was trying very, very hard not to break something, (probably Emma) she hissed in a quiet tone: “I. Am nothing. Like. Snow.”
Emma yelped, having not expected so… angry a reaction. “Fine, fine!” she hissed. “Just get your claws off me!”
The nails left her skin with a wry chuckle, almost as if the mayor were taunting her.
With a huff of exhaled air, Emma decided to just let it go. Regina was impossible.
Silence descended once again, and the mayor allowed it. Best enough to try not to antagonize one another much more than they could help it. Who knew how long they’d be stuck here until the snow plow finally got through? She curled, trying to find a position comfortable enough to sleep in, and tried not to think about the lump that had risen in her throat. She knew, deep down, that she truly wasn’t fire anymore. Since Snow’s betrayal, the only thing that had burned beneath her breast was hate. And the curse had made damned well sure that was all she felt, withering away all other feelings until they were next to nothing, until all that was left was the hate, keen and cold. Not really fire anymore. Nothing more than-
“Ice.”
It took a second for Regina to blink, startled, and she almost sat up before realizing that would break their tiny haven of warmth. “What?”
Blonde hair moved out of her face (finally), and Emma rolled over to regard the other woman, pressing their breasts together. “If I’m fire, you must be ice.”
Regina huffed a little, taking Emma’s movement as an opportunity to roll over herself, presenting her back to the other woman. Nevermind the fact that her face was now an inch away from the backseat of the car. It was a clear sign of dismissal.
It backfired. The blonde just curled her arm around the mayor. “Well? Aren’t you afraid you’re going to melt?” she taunted, her voice getting a little playful and far too smug for Regina’s liking.
The mayor tried to sneer, but realized the effort was pointless, since Emma couldn’t see it. “Terrified,” she muttered, and hoped it came off as much more annoyed and unemotional than she felt. Because much as she hated to admit it, Emma was here- she hadn’t left Storybrooke and continued to upset her life- hell, Emma hadn’t just left her here alone in the snow…. She’d stayed.
For the first time in years, Regina felt the beginnings of warmth.
And, truly, it terrified her.