I recently discovered that "loathing" and "loving" is almost the same word but mixing it up can be dangerous. This is how the following fic came to be. I tag #idiotsinlove because that's really all it is. Happy reading and you're welcome:
The first glitch (yes, Emma was going to call it a glitch in the least self-blaming way possible, after all, it could have happened to anyone) was probably at the football game.
Emma wasn't hundred-percently sure though, because she wasn't watching Regina at that time, not closely at least. Her eyes were mainly focused on the ball of course, and on their son who was dribbling it towards the goal like a pro. Complete with tricks and all, like Emma had taught him on the grassy pitch behind their house, and Emma might or might not have reached for Regina's hand in the chaos on the bleachers. For the emotional support (Also because Regina's hands were really soft and warm and it was freezing like hell). And Regina squeezed her fingers - that's what Emma remembered for sure because it was the first time Regina acknowledged her attempt at contact after the Robin-thing had happened - squeezed and leaned in to say something in that extra raspy voice for only Emma to hear.
And that was when the cheers broke loose because Henry scored the goal and Emma didn't even see it because she was too focused on the painted lips of Regina Mills and the words they were forming.
It made sense to Emma at that point. Like, after all she had destroyed Regina's life and thirty years ago that had been enough to throw an entire realm into war. Her heart clenched a bit at the words, in the ache-y and sad way, but she found comfort in Regina's hand still in hers. (She wondered about that for a while, but maybe Regina felt cold too. It made sense.)
The second glitch occurred hardly a week after the match. Emma was invited to the mansion for dinner, but apparently Henry had other appointments so it was just Regina and her.
Emma brought a wine in an attempt to maybe repair the shards of friendship between them and judging from the soft smile that spread on Regina's face at the sight of Emma in an actual dress (though she wore the red leather jacket over it) she was doing an okay job with it.
"Thank you for having me," Emma said formally, "Despite Henry's absence."
Regina shot her an odd look and of course Emma wondered a bit then, but heaven knew she was used to getting odd looks. Besides, she was pretty sure her wine was the cheapest Regina had ever consumed. (It had still been on the upper edge of Emma's budget. And Regina sipped it with a smile that suggested at least some kind of appreciation.)
Regina had made lasagne, Emma's favourite kind with red chilli flakes and a dash of cream in the tomato sauce.
"Amazing that you remembered that," Emma said, moaning softly when the melted cheese hit her tastebuds. "It's simply delicious."
Two things happened then, one predictable (Regina looking really smug and also unbelievably hot as she licked a spot of sauce off her bottom lip) and one not quite so predictable.
"I loathe you," she repeated those three words again and that time they really confused Emma. Because, if Regina was loathing her so much then why go through the trouble of keeping her for dinner? Plus, it did seem an un-Regina-likely rude reply to Emma's compliment.
But then again, maybe she had misheard. Maybe Regina had said something else entirely, but the beeping sound of the oven interrupted their conversation before Emma could ask.
"That must be the cake," Regina excused herself before Emma got the chance to do anything about the situation. (And to be fair, she wouldn't have known what to reply anyways. She frequently forgot how to form coherent sentences in Regina's presence.)
They say that third times were a charm and in Emma's experience, that was true. The third, and final, glitch was drastically different to the previous ones. For one, it involved Regina's tongue in Emma's mouth.
She was sitting idly at the station, throwing paper planes, when Regina stormed in. Her hair an unusual (but still, in Emma's opinion, very gorgeous) mess, her coat open and flapping like bat wings behind her, she threw open the door and nearly startled Emma to death. Scrambling to her feet immediately, she kicked away the tell-tale paper bits, but Regina didn't even seem to care.
"Sheriff," she greeted curtly and "Madam Mayor," Emma replied a bit breathlessly, since Regina had come dangerously close, her hand hovering over Emma's cheek for a millisecond before she cupped it and drew Emma in. In, as in, for a kiss. (Emma had to clarify this for herself again, after her brain stopped short circuiting because Regina Mills' lips were actually touching hers.)
Or, to be fair, not only touching, not only brushing, or tracing, but rather demolishing, ravaging. Regina kissed like there was no tomorrow and oh, Emma melted into that kiss like there had been no yesterday, no "I loathe you"...
"Wait," Emma breathed out then, still against Regina's lips. She was astonished to find her hands in Regina's hair (one tangled in the soft brown strands, the other curled around Regina's neck) but the real surprise lay in Regina's hands. They had found their way to the hem of Emma's shirt without her even noticing it, and were now impatiently tugging at the cotton.
"Don't you, like, hate me though?" Emma still had to whisper, through the rush of blood in her ears and the racing heartbeat in their chests.
And Regina chuckled, low and raspy and disbelieving. Her reply was toneless and got lost in the threads of laughter but it definitely sounded like "I loathe you." Emma was confused.
(Regina had always been good at sending mixed signals but this was a scary new record.)
But then Regina repeated the words, again and again and again, and each trio was separated by a kiss, no longer wild and hungry but sweet and loving.
If Emma listened really closely (or, like, normally, uninterrupted by cheers or beeps or chuckles) "I loathe you" could easily mean something else entirely. Something closer to "I love you" maybe (which would explain the kissing).
(Emma felt very dumb for a moment.) But then Regina moved from her lips to her neck and then to her collarbones and thoughts kind of became a rarity on Emma's mind. She did have the presence of mind to lock the door with a flick of her hand though. For what happened next was pretty much the opposite of loathing.
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