Who thought paint could save them?

Chapter 3

"Let's go on our date so that we can come back from our date... so that we can...see how right that statement I made earlier is..." Emma raises and lowers her brows a couple times.

Regina smirks, "Alright. I just need to change."

The brunette takes off the coveralls revealing a camisol and soffee shorts.

Emma's knees weakened, "What are you doing to me, woman?" She asks as she walks behind her and squeezes Regina's ass.

Regina slaps her hand away, "No free touching." She has a serious tone, "No touching my tushy at all if you keep playing your cards like that."

"Tushy?" Emma is grinning ear to ear. She can say tushy and I can't say skivvies?

She gives the blonde a warning look, knowing what she is thinking, "I'm going to go get cleaned up. Give me fifteen minutes."

Emma now gives Regina a warning look of her own, "You were supposed to be ready fifteen minutes ago..."

"Yes, well. I lose track of time sometimes when I come to paint. I'm sorry dear." Regina cocks her head a little to the side and waits for Emma's next move.

At the head cock Emma is powerless. She purses her lips, then a smile graces her face once more, "That's all I needed to hear. Go on." Emma shoos the brunette from her own shed and pulls the door closed, "Do you want me to lock it?" She calls after her girlfriend...girlfriend?

"Yes Dear!" Regina calls over her shoulder.

Emma walks into the kitchen to find Henry pouring some noodles from a certain type of blue box into a boiling pot, "Oh man, I used to love mac' n cheese and cut up hot dogs..." She says nostalgic.

Henry turns and looks at her, "Really?"

"Yeah... I mean... it was considered a delicacy in the places I grew up..." She shrugs and looks away, "You should try it. You have any hot dogs?"

Henry nods and points to the fridge. He turns back to his pot and stirs his shell noodles. Emma opens the fridge and sees just what she thought she'd find... OCD to the max. There are places for everything and everything is in their specific place... with labels. She bites her lip to keep from laughing a bit and opens the meat drawer.

"I'm actually very surprised that you mom buys hot dogs... and mac' n cheese..." Emma turns around from the closing refrigerator and opens the package.

"Well, she can't cook for me every night, so sometimes she lets me make hot dogs... When I was little..." Henry starts a story but stops when Emma laughs.

Emma looks down at her little man...because she still considers him a little man, and the fact that he just said 'when I was little' was funny to her. She sees his scolding look, "I'm sorry, continue."

Henry huffs and restarts his story, "When I was a little kid... way smaller than I am now. Sherriff Graham gave me a hot dog without asking Mom first... I loved it and she was pissed-"

"Henry!" Emma knows that is the closest he has ever come to cursing before.

"What? She was... but now she buys them for me." He gives his own version of an evil grin... it scares Emma how much it looks like Regina's.

They continue to make dinner for him for the next little while when Emma hears a throat clearing... and she knows it's neither Henry nor herself. She turns around and once again her knees go weak. She tries to collect herself, but the vision before her... I mean holy fuck!

Regina is leaning against the doorway in one of the simplest dresses on the face of the planet, but Dayum! woman can make the simplest things complex and intricate, and the most complex things so... just God damn simple. The dress is black, knee length, form-fitting, with a heart neckline. She also wears some of the simplest black heals and carries quite possibly the simplest black clutch as well... but that doesn't stop Emma's brain from short circuiting from the complexity of the woman before her.