Bluest of Grey Skies

Chapter Eight

In the week that followed, they fell into a very different routine. Emma always made two cups of coffee at seven every morning and unlocked the door a ten after. Regina would show up a few minutes later, knocking lightly on the door before letting herself in. During dinner that previous Saturday evening, Regina insisted that Emma allow her to drive and pick her up from the Nolan farm each day. Emma, of course, wasn't going to turn down the generous offer nor was she about to give up spending time with Regina every chance that she could. Every evening they ate dinner at the house where Emma would cook or they'd cook together while talking about their day.

Emma enjoyed Regina's company thoroughly, yet there hadn't been any kisses shared between the two since the week before. While she was disappointed, she knew this was a positive step in their friendship and that was exactly what they had become, friends. In those moments after they ate and settled down in the living room to watch Henry play, Regina would rub her sore shoulders and back in a way that made her want so much more, but she never pushed for more, never made the first move, and never voiced her thoughts about her wants and needs to her.

She had been looking forward to the weekend all week as Regina had promised to teach her how to ride the bicycle that Kathryn had lent her. She was both equally excited and terrified because the last time she tried, she couldn't get going nor could she keep the bicycle upright. Even though it was Saturday, she still had the coffee ready at seven and the door unlocked at ten after. Like clockwork, a knock resounded on the door a few minutes later and Regina walked in.

"Morning," she smiled brightly at Emma, her hands immediately taking the offered mug.

"Morning," Emma smiled right back at her. "Henry is still sleeping. I didn't want to wake him."

"Of course not. It's Saturday morning. I'm just surprised you didn't take full advantage of that yourself," Regina replied and Emma shrugged. "How are you feeling this morning? Is your shoulder still bothering you?"

"Not at all. Your hands are magic," Emma said quietly. "I think you are in the wrong profession."

Regina laughed heartedly. "I enjoy what I do. I could not imagine myself doing anything else."

"Yeah I can't imagine you not being the sheriff."

They had talked a lot throughout the week and learned about one another, bit by bit. Their conversations never strayed from a comfortable topic, ones that were mostly child friendly as Henry was almost always in the room with them. Yet, after Emma put him to bed, they'd talk about other things, more intimate things. She had been surprised and yet not at the same time when Regina told her about the first time she ever had sex with a woman when she was just a teenager. She was surprised by Regina's admission that she had never been in love before and she had been taken back by the whispered confession that she might just be the one that she could fall in love with one day.

The more time they spent with each other, the easier it was just to be themselves. It was different when they were outside of the house, but not entirely. Emma had noticed that those small touches and lingering looks were all but gone when they were around others, but behind closed doors it was different. She had seen not two, but three very different sides of Regina in just the course of a week. There was the sheriff, tough and strict but friendly all the same, there was Regina, the neighbor, the friend, and then there was Gina, soft, flirty, and affectionate.

Emma had never opened herself up to anyone in the way she opened up to her. She recalled certain memories from her childhood she never shared before, not even with Neal. And when she spoke of Neal, a hundred different emotions went through her and while she had loved him, she had never been in love with him because of who she truly was deep down inside. Through all the little conversations that dug down deep, they both had had their fair share of tears, of moments of weakness, of laughter and everything else in between.