gemini + bravo (may sisters): to build a home verse + back story (may sisters) [their total backstory is much too long for just an ask fic, and itâs actually in progress as a full-length fic, so this is just a little laurel may backstory- for reference, lucy liu is my fc for joy, and constance wu is my fc for laurel!]
Melinda hasnât been home in nearly six months- it had been mission after mission, and Phil had needed her around. But she finally has five days of leave, and sheâs going home. Her sisters are waiting- Joy had left a message that Laurel was already home, and Mom was gone, so it was just them girls.
âLin!â Laurel latches herself to Melinda the moment sheâs through the door, and Melinda hugs her baby sister as tightly as she can. Nearly seventeen years separated them, and Melinda couldnât help but feel sad she couldnât be there for Laurel like she had been for Joy.
âHey, kid. Howâs senior year of college? Kicking ass, taking names?â she asks, wrapping her arms around Laurelâs shoulders as they walked- Joy came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel as her face broke out into a grin.
âMel, Iâm so happy youâre home,â she said, wrapping her sister in a hug and squeezing, face buried in her neck.
âI missed you two so much,â Melinda murmured as they tugged Laurel into the hug, breathing together for a moment. âSmells good, Joy, whatâs cooking?â
âShrimp and noodles,â her sister replies as they head into the kitchen- Laurel pours Melinda a glass of wine as she washes her hands. Joy mans the stove while Melinda sits and listens to Laurel talk about college and her senior psychology project. The pride that sits in her chest is full to bursting, and sheâs so happy to be sitting in their old family kitchen, Joy serving food, Laurel laughing, Melinda with her wine in hand.
Melinda is unpacking her bag when the hesitant knock on her door comes- she waves a nervous-looking Laurel into her room. âLaurel? Whatâs wrong?â
âI have to...we have to talk,â she starts, hands fidgeting in a way they always have, ever since she was small. Melinda frowns, sitting on her bed as Laurel paces the room, swallowing.
âOkay- what about?â she asks, and Laurel crosses her arms, an out-of-character protective stance that causes the furrow between Melindaâs brows to deepen.
âSo you know Iâve always....always had trouble with dating,â Laurel starts, and Melinda nods, shrugging her shoulders. âWell, Iâve been working with this girl on my final project- her name is Iris, and sheâs- sheâs amazing, we work well together, we hang out after class, we get drinks. And...after a few months, Iâve realized Iâve started developing...well, Iâve started developing feelings. And Iris thought that I should, maybe- talk to you about them. To help.â
âSo youâre saying Iris is gay,â Melinda says slowly, and Laurel nods, fast and jerky. âAnd are you too?â
âI- I donât know? Maybe? I feel so confused and overwhelmed by it,â Laurel replies, swallowing thickly. âBut I- I donât know what I would do if you were disappointed in me, Melinda. You or Joy. Youâre...youâre both everything to me.â
âLaurel- Laurel you could never disappoint me, or Joy. Ever,â Melinda rushes to tell her, capturing her hands in hers and stilling the trembling before she reaches one hand up to brush away the tears in Laurelâs eyes. âYou are our sister. First and foremost. Nothing you could ever do would ever make me disappointed in you.â
âIâm so scared, Mel,â Laurel confesses, tears leaking down her cheeks. âOf telling you, and Joy- Mama and Daddy. What if they donât love me? What if they cast me out?â
âI will never let that happen,â Melinda says, cupping Laurelâs cheeks in her palms. âNever, ever Laurel. Joy will say the same. You have us until the very end. Weâre the May sisters.â
At that, Laurel simply breaks, and Melinda gathers her into her arms as they collapse onto the floor. Joy finds them like that not long after Laurel finally calms, sitting on Laurelâs other side and stroking her hair.
They were the May sisters. Theyâd face the world together.
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Part of the 'Woman in red' collection. www.liquidmotion.com.mx #womaninred #womaninreddress #paintings #digitalart #filmschool #schoolofphotography #procreate #devilinred #fluopainting #cozumel
scorpio + blue: student/teacher verse + shower sex (nsfw)
âWonât Bobbi be home soon?â Melinda asked, head pillowed on his chest as his fingers traced nonsensical patterns into the skin of her back. She felt his head shake and she tilted her head on his shoulder to see his face.
âMariaâs got her for the weekend. They do aunt/niece weekends a lot,â he explained, and Melindaâs face softened. âItâs helped a lot, since she doesnât have a mom to do girly stuff with. Itâs only so fun to paint my nails when sheâs bored.â
âI take it thatâs how you learned to braid hair so well?â Melinda asked, amused, and Phil laughed, nodding.
âSpent a solid month watching youtube tutorials on every kind of braid imaginable. Bobbi likes the fishtail one, and the waterfall braid is a popular choice too,â he informs her, and she smothers her giggle in his chest.
âIâm sure Daisy will be very impressed when you show her your skills,â Melinda said, unthinking. Phil blinks, not wanting to break the moment; everything about this next step in their relationship was new, but he couldnât help but already love Melindaâs daughter, simply for being half her. Melinda didnât seem to notice, though, simply sighing and pushing herself to sit up. âI should shower.â
Philâs fingers trail along her back as she rises; she takes the sheet with her, and when she reaches the bathroom door, looks over her shoulder with a heated look. âYou could always join me, you know.â
Thereâs a gap left when she closes the door, and when the sound of the water starts, heâs out of the bed. Melindaâs under the steamy spray when he pushes the door open, and he opens the glass door, mouth going dry at endless pale skin covered in drops.
âThirty seconds. Slower than I thought,â Melinda murmured as his hands slid to her waist, mouth brushing along her jawline. She hummed as he cupped a breast, the other drawing circles in her upper thigh; her hand twined in his hair above her head, the other adjusting the shower head until Phil could spin her, back against the cool tile wall.
Their mouths met as she arched against him; his hand kneaded her ass as she brought her thigh up to his hipbone. They slid together with a collective moan, Melindaâs head tilting back to smack quietly against the tile- Philâs mouth left a sloppy trail as he licked up droplets from her collarbone, hips moving slowly as their rhythm built.
Itâs slow-going, neither of them necessarily wanting to fall, and Melindaâs hand slid down her wet stomach to finger her clit, drawing a panting moan from her that vaguely resembled his name. He pushed harder, heat chasing up his spine- his fingers join hers to push her over the edge into her fourth orgasm of the day; she shudders around him, gasping his name in his ear in little high-pitched pants that made him want to spend the whole rest of the day with her, drawing that noise at until she was hoarse.
The drawing of her nails down his back and the continued spasms of her walls around him is what pulls him headfirst into his own climax; his teeth sink into her shoulder, leaving a mark sheâll smack him for later, but for now sheâs too content in his arms. They cling to each other as they catch their breath, before the heat of the shower and each other is too much- Phil turns the water temperature down and pulls her under the spray with him.
âMy water bill is gonna be ridiculous this month,â he murmurs into her hair, and Melinda laughs, hitting his shoulder weakly before she kisses the same spot.
MayRos âPlease I just⌠really need space right now.â
âYou skipped group last night,â she looks up from her tea at the sound of Rosalindâs voice, and she swallows at the sadness the other woman tried to hide from her.
âRos...â she starts as Rosalind sits across from her, fiddling with her mug.
âAre you running from this?â Rosalind asked, leaning forward and touching her wrist lightly; Melinda pulls her hand back slightly, swallowing as she avoids her gaze.
âI just...I canât right now,â she whispers, voice thick. She canât look at Rosalind because she knows sheâll crack. She wasnât the person she was before Bahrain- she couldnât let herself fall in love with someone sheâd just stain with the blood on her hands.
âMel, please donât push me away,â Rosalind was nearly begging, and when Melinda finally lifted her eyes to hers, there were tears in those beautiful green eyes.
âPlease I just...I just really need some space right now,â Melinda whispered, voice hoarse and thick with tears that she furiously blinked away, clenching her fist. âIâm sorry, Rosalind. You deserve better than me.â
She walks away, refusing to look back despite how much it hurt her heart. She deserved this pain; happiness wasnât meant for murderers like her.
"Melinda May, in love with the head of the ATCU. Neverwoulda pegged you for the type," drawls Ward as he circles her, interestin his tone. She glares, fighting the ties around her wrists, holding in thewince at the stab wound in her side. âIs she as cold in bed as she seems?â
She tries hard not to have a reaction, but hot anger spillsfrom the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and the cruel laugh Wardgives to her struggle only heightens the rage; makes it burn hotter in herchest.
âNot such an ice queen after all, I see,â is all he can say,harsh and amused, lips twisted in an awful smirk.
âWeâre coming, May,â comes Daisyâs urgent voice in herearpiece, and relief washes down her spine. âJust keep him talking- Hunterâslining up a shot now, and Bobbiâs on her way to you.â
Melinda continues to fight against the ties, but thereâs notas much power in her movements; itâs merely a distraction, and Wardâs lips curlfurther into a smirk thatâs almost a snarl.
âWhat is it about women in power that draws them together,hm?â he asks, hands behind his back as he paces in front of her. âWas it a latenight drink between the director of SHIELD and the head of the ATCU? Maybe itwas the burgers from that place down the street from her house that did it? Afew beers, talking too closely- what was it about Rosalind that broke your icyshell, Melinda? Do you mind if I call you that? Or is that for Rosalind only,now that Phil is dead and TAHITI is no more?â
When Melinda tugs at the ties this time, practicallychomping at the gag in her mouth, itâs not for show. Mentions of Phil stilltear at the gaping wound in her heart- itâs been nearly a year, but it stillstings like salt, the mere mention of his name.
Ward opens his mouth, sure to say something else scathingwhen his facial expression freezes, and as he crumples to his knees, Melindarealizes Hunterâs shot him with an icer blast. He falls to the floor, frozen,and Bobbi enters the room with her gun drawn, checking for anyone else beforesheâs kneeling next to Melinda, undoing the ties.
âThe stab wound on my left side is pretty deep, but otherthan that Iâm fine,â Melinda tells her once the gag is pulled from her mouth,and she winces as Bobbi helps her stand. She leans on the tall blonde, limpingout of the room and nodding to Hunter; the Brit gives a half-smirk at herapproval before he goes back to securing Ward.
Rosalind is waiting outside, Banks at her side; she takesone look at a wounded Melinda and sheâs striding towards her, taking her weightfrom Bobbi.
âIâve got her, Agent Morse,â she tells the blonde, and Bobbilooks at Melinda a moment before nodding and heading back to the building tosecure the other Hydra agents theyâd captured. âThat was stupid, and reckless,Director May.â
âWe got him, didnât we?â she asks, letting Rosalind help hersit on the back bumper of a nearby SUV, wincing as the dark-haired woman probedat her bleeding side.
âThis is really deep, Melinda,â Rosalind said gently,letting worry soften her features as she looks up at Melinda, free hand comingup to cup her cheek gently. âLet me drive you to the hospital.â
Melinda shakes her head, sitting up and wincing again inpain. Rosalind reaches forward, helpless.
âJust take me back to the Playground. Lincoln can stitch meup. I have to file the paperwork and get in contact with Talbot. I have to beDirector, Rosalind,â she says, and the ATCU head gives her a mild glare,frustration in her features.
âFine. But Iâm riding with you,â she says, and Melindaâs tootired and in too much pain to argue as she leans against the car until sheâssettled in the passenger seat. Rosalind drives, irritation radiating off of heruntil Melinda reaches over to twine their fingers together, thumb brushing overthe back of her gently.
They donât talk during the drive, and Rosalind has to waitoutside while Lincoln looks over Melindaâs injuries and stitches up the deepgash between her ribs.
âYouâre really lucky, Director May,â he tells her as hewraps gauze around her midsection, looking up at her seriously. âHe just missedhitting some major organs and arteries.â
âThat was the point. He didnât want to kill me- he justwanted it to hurt like a sonofabitch,â she comments, shrugging as she pulls herruined shirt back down, frowning at the bloody, jagged hole in what had beenone of her favorite blue blouses. âThank you, Lincoln.â
âDo you want the pain pills?â he asks, and she shook herhead, mouth twisting distastefully.
âThey knock me out, and I have paperwork to do,â shereplies, put takes the vial of them he gives her.
âItâll hurt more when youâre laying down. If you want, youcan just take them when you want to sleep,â he tells her as he sends her offwith his signature. Rosalind is waiting for her by her office, and she closesthe door behind them as Melinda starts to unbutton her shirt, wincing at themovement.
âLet me help,â she requests quietly, taking over the job ofgetting the small buttons out of their holes until the bloodstained fabric isfluttering to the floor, leaving Melinda in dark gray lace that Rosalind canâthelp but touch, caresses soft. Together they get her into a fresh navy shirt,Rosalind doing the buttons up except the last two; Melinda rolls her eyes buther smile is soft, and she kisses the other woman in thanks before they part.
Melinda gets through three phone calls and half a stack ofpaperwork before the pain radiating from her side is so blinding she can barelysee straight. Rosalind looks up from where sheâd been scrolling through herphone at Melindaâs muffled gasp, and sheâs on her feet at the spotting redblood oozing from Melindaâs wound, soaking her shirt.
âCome on, thatâs enough. You need to rest,â the ATCU tellsher, tone brokering no argument, and Melinda is so tired she doesnât fight her.Rosalind helps her stand, grabbing the vial of pain pills before they walktogether through the door to Melindaâs room. It still held remnants of Phil shecouldnât part with, and Rosalind doesnât comment as they take off Melindaâsshirt, and she undoes the bloody dressing. âThe stitches look pulled but notundone- Iâll wrap them in new gauze and hopefully you wonât pull on themanymore while you sleep, since you are absolutely taking some of those painpills. Itâs Oxy, the good stuff- your doctor doesnât skimp.â
âBeing allergic to hydros comes in handy every so often,âMelinda murmurs as Rosalind wraps fresh dressing around her midsection. Shetakes the two pills Rosalind gives her with a long drink of water before shetugs on an oversized, faded t-shirt and undoes her pants; she crawls under thesheets in just her panties and shirt, sighing at the coolness that covers her.
Thereâs some rustling and a pause before the bed dips besideher, and Rosalind hand tenderly touches her hip. Melindaâs fingers cover hers,and her words are a little slurred from exhaustion and the meds when shespeaks. âYou donât have to stay.â
Rosalind shuffles closer, kissing her shoulder through hershirt and letting her muffled words float over Melinda as she drifts off.
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a. philinda. 5. slow dancing in the kitchen in the refrigerator light
Heâs not surprised to wake up at three in the morning to an empty bed.
Melinda doesnât sleep much- hasnât since they lost the baby theyâd been trying so hard to conceive. Years of being in the field, various injuries, and a couple of gunshot wounds had all added up to a less-than-likely chance theyâd be able to have a baby, but against the odds, theyâd gotten pregnant.
Six blissful weeks of happiness; his wife smiling, the house full of excitement and happiness. Until the night sheâd woken up to a pool of blood and excruciating cramps. Until the night everything theyâd been dreaming of had been ripped from their fingers just as theyâd gotten used to holding them.
He climbs out of bed, rubbing the last of sleep from his eyes, and goes to find his wife. Sheâs not upstairs- he closes the half-open door to the nursery, unable to look at the half-assembled items theyâd foolishly bought too early. The living room is also empty, but the light in the kitchen coming from the open fridge alerts him to where sheâd taken refuge.
âCouldnât sleep?â he asks quietly; Melinda shrugs, staring unblinkingly into the depths of their rather bare fridge. âWe could talk about it.â
âI donât want to talk, Phil,â she answers tiredly, her loose sweater swamping her lithe frame. He swallows, head dipping, and tries not to let her words hurt as much as they do.
âIâll be upstairs, then,â he replies in a tone thatâs just as tired, and heâs turning to go as he feels thin fingers against his wrist. He pauses, waiting, and Melindaâs fingers slip into his in a hesitant grasp. He turns to face her and she slips under his chin, her loose arm wrapping around his waist.
âIâm sorry,â she whispers as they sway gently, cool air coming from the open refrigerator and wisping around them. âI miss her. We didnât even get to meet her and I miss her.â
âI know,â Phil murmurs into her hair, his palm spanning her back. âI miss her too, Lin.â
âI just really wanted to be her mom,â she said in a broken voice after a moment, their swaying stopping as she finally broke down, tears sliding down her cheeks. âI was finally going to be a mom.â
Phi holds her as she cries, sinking to the floor with her as the dance theyâve choreographed these last few weeks finally comes to a halt on their kitchen floor.
21. âWeâre in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?â
The pounding rain deafens all other noise in the car; it echoes off the room and makes talking almost impossible- the beat of the radio is barely discernible through the repetitive drumming of the drops. Philâs fingers tap out a nonsensical rhythm against the steering wheel, and Melinda sighs. Another funeral for another agent lost in the field; it leaves the air between them melancholy and tense, their own close call in the back of their minds.
A miscommunication in the field had lead to Phil getting a graze to his upper arm and the cold shoulder from Melinda; theyâd been discussing a weekend away and missed the second sniper on the top floor. Phil was fine, and heâd told her so, but she still had taken a step back from the personal relationship in the wake of his injury.
Theyâre passing a park when Melinda suddenly turned to him, touching his arm. âStop the car.â
Phil looks at her in confusion, but does as she says; sheâs out the door the moment the carâs in park, careless of the rain. He scrambles to get out of the car and follow her, his suit getting soaked as he trails behind her. Sheâs in an uncharacteristic dress- all of her suits were at the dry cleaners, sheâd told him in annoyance- and the damp, dark fabric clinging to her legs as she twirled to face him. âLin, itâs a thunderstorm. We should get back in the car!â
âLetâs live a little!â Melinda called back, dark hair drenched and falling in uneven ringlets around her face. The smile she gives him is infectious, and he shakes his head fondly, coming to stand with her under a small grove of trees, shading them from the worst of the storm. âIâm sorry for being so distant, this week. I just donât know what Iâd ever do if I lost you.â
âI canât promise Iâll never get hurt. But Iâll never willingly leave you,â Phil tells her, fingers coming up to brush her wet hair out of her face, thumb cupping her cheek. âI love you, Melinda. Youâre my partner. You always will be.â
Thunder clapped, and Melinda smiled, and the cold they both got a few days later was worth it.
inspired by this post by devilinred:
Emma Swan is a Day Care teacher who, as a kid, had a major crush on Regina Mills, the main character of her favourite childhood TV show, Queen's Castle. What happens when Emma finds out that one of students, Henry, is actually the son of Regina's, and what happens when she finally gets to meet the woman in the flesh?
(lemme know if you want this on FanFic or not)
The Queen's Castle by ant1ers (crackedconcrete)...
ENJOY
One of the perks of being a Day Care teacher was that I could watch all my favourite children movies without judgement. Well except when we watch Snow White for the twelfth time in two weeks. Yeah there was a limit and I often pushed it.
âAfternoon, my little bunch of home skillets,â Ah yes, professionalism at its finest, but it often had a positive response except for that one prissy little girl who puts her hands on her hips and demands to be called âdearâ; but one time we settled on âdudetteâ. It was a beautiful day for mankind. I kindly explained to her that âdudetteâ was the female version of âdudeâ so I think she was cool with it. Nonetheless, the sixteen children jumped for joy when I finally wedged myself through the gate into the classroom. Mary Margaret, my partner in crime (or co-teacher as the lady of this place calls her) sighed as I dramatically threw my arms up. A dozen or so pairs of arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me to the ground. I donât understand why people hated on this job so badly, like damn, who doesnât want to hang out, finger painting and watching movies while you subtly teach them actual things they will need in their lives.
 âMs Emma, Ms Emma!â
âHey guys,â I ruffled one little red haired girl whose father was my therapist; a ginger man who had a cute as hell Dalmatian called Pongo.
âGive Emma some space children; sheâs going to be here the rest of the day, arenât you?â Mary Margaret eyed my suspiciously,
âYeah, yeah, I will. Iâm sorry about before, it was justâŚfamily stuff,â
Mary Margaret softened immediately, âoh sorry, is it your Dad again?â
I peeled one particularly affectionate child off my neck, âyeah, heâs um, doing okay, justâŚa medical scare, nothing to worry about,â But hell, I was worrying hard core. She nodded knowingly and got herself out of one of the many small child sized chairs we had littered around the room.
âOkay, so we all happy that Ms Emma is back,â Mary Margaret beamed down at the kids and clapped her hands together, wringing them awkwardly. Everybody in this Day Care knew that I was, by far, the favourite teacher of them all; even higher than Ruby who was known to spoil her darlings with sugar cookies from her Granny before they went home.
The kids screamed out in joy and decided to dog-piled me once again. Mary Margaret laughed as one child felt the need to drape herself over my face as I lay scrabbling for purchase on the linoleum flooring.
âYou can join in if youâd like Henry, weâre all family here,â I nudged some kid off of me and watched Mary Margaret lay a comforting hand on a brown haired boy I hardly spoke to. He didnât pay her any attention as he read a thick book he had spread out on one of the tables. Before I could say anything, rather fat boy practically dive-bombed onto my stomach.
âHolyâŚâ I seethed, âkid, no, that was not cool,â I rolled onto my front and the kids booed me as I stood up and brushed the dirt off my body.
âOkay well maybe youâd like to chat to Ms Emma,â Mary Margaret motioned me over to the boy, âEmma loves helping people and talking to people, donât you Emma?â
Oh boy, we had a Mr Moody among us. I squatted down to Henryâs height and watched him keep his eyes trained on the book in front of him.
âHey there Henry,â I offered him the biggest, most genuine smile I could muster. Mary Margaret quickly fell out the conversation and ushered the class outside for play time. I sat down onto the floor and crossed my legs.
âHi,â he muttered as he flipped to the next page.
âWhat have you got there?â I wiggled closer and looked at the book in front of him. It was a massive book of fairy tales written in what looked like hand crafted calligraphy. It was beautiful.
âFairy tales,â
âI love fairy tales,â I got to my knees, âwhich oneâs your favourite?â
He kept silent.
âIf I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?â
Henry looked at me like I was nuts, before shrugging, âfine; whatâs yours?â
âSnow White and the Seven Dwarfs,â
His eyes went to the size of saucers, âoh no,â
âWhat do you mean, âoh noâ?â
Henry slammed the book closed and rolled his eyes. Wow, for like a seven year old, he sure had some sass.
âHow old are you?â
âWait, what? Why?â
âJust tell meâŚplease,â He had the puppy-dog eyes down pat.
âUh, Iâm twenty eight, why?â
âDid you ever used to watch a show called Queenâs Castle?â
I almost passed out at the mention of my absolute favourite childhood show in this history of childhood shows.
âOh my God, yes,â I gasped, âWait, oh my gosh, yes, yes I did,â
âOh no,â Henry smiled and shook his head as he shoved his book into his backpack.
âWait, you still didnât tell me your favourite fairy tale!â
âMy Mumâs an actressâŚâ Henry started like he hadnât even heard my damn question.
âAnd,â
âShe used to be a character in that show,â
I think my eyeballs were about to fall out my head at that knowledge. I wonder which one she was; Little Red, one of the Dwarfs, UrsulaâŚSnow White herself?
âReally,â I probably sounded a little too enthusiastic because Henry shifted slightly out of reach. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. Huh, I did that too when I was feeling awkward.
âYeah, she was the Evil Queen,â
And at that moment, my life fell apart and was glued back together with the sweet, sweet knowledge of knowing that I was looking after the hottest woman on television. The woman confirmed my sexuality at a very young age and I even remember in my teens, sneaking in an odd episode of it just to fix my, well, fix.
âWhat!â
Mary Margaret looked incredibly confused as she glanced over her shoulder at my outburst.
âI mean,â I cleared my throat and calmed myself, âwhat,â
âYeah,â
But before the child could get out another word, I scooped him up and chucked him over my shoulder.
 He giggled as I ran outside, âMary Margaret! Mary Margaret, Mary freaking Margaret!â
âEmma! Unhand that child!â But Henry kept giggling as I spun him around.
âKid, tell Ms MM what you just told me,â I face my back towards the pixie haired Day Care teacher as Henry leaned his head up to stare at my partner in crime,
âUm, my Mumâs an actress?â
Mary Margaret deadpanned, âis that all?â
I jiggled him a bit more and he laughed, âFor what show? Tell her the whole thing,â
Henry sighed, âMy Mum was the Evil Queen on Queenâs Castle,â
I squealed in delight as I threw Henry back onto his feet. Mary Margaret crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.
âWhat? Why arenât you squeaking loudly?â Henry disappeared out to the swing set. Mary Margaret watched the kids for about a minute before she answered me,
âI already knew that,â
âAre you kidding me? Why didnât you tell me we were looking after the kid of a mega famous, mega babe?â
âMega babe to you, Emma. And she wasnât famous; her show cancelled after like, season two,â
âSeason three, actually,â
âWhoop-de-do, one extra season,â
âShe was and probably still is a total babe,â I whined,â
âShe is and I know you think sheâs a babe, thatâs why I keep her away from you,â
Suddenly everything clicked together, âso you put me on the morning shift so I donât meet her when she picks up Henry in the afternoon?â
âYep,â Mary Margaret waved a kid who was dying for her attention in the sandpit.
âYou bitch,â I laughed, âButâŚgross, are you telling me sheâs married to that arsehole with the cane, which drops him off in the morning?â
âAh, no; the womanâs not marriedâŚthatâs Henryâs grandfather; sheâs a very busy woman,â
âI bet, being famous and all,â
âSheâs not famous,â
âSheâs hot though,â
âJust because sheâs hot doesnât mean sheâs famous,â
âRight,â
  The time was five fifteen in the afternoon and I was so hyped on caffeine and excitement that I practically jumped around the room. Mary Margaret, who had taken my early morning shift plus the afternoon one, sat on one of the desks, yawning.
âYour Mum should be here in fifteen minutes,â I flattened my shirt down for the umpteenth time and checked my reflection in one of the play house mirrors.
âYep,â Henry sounded bored as he flicked through his fairy tale book again. He was one of the last ones here. I didnât mind because that meant less audience.
âDo I look okay?â I whispered to Mary Margaret as she sorted out the toys from this morning playing with the energetic three year olds.
âFor the last time, you look fine,â she growled,
âYeah but like fine-fine or like âhey Iâm gayâ fine,â
Mary Margaret rolled her eyes as she launched a stuffed panda into the toy box. There was a soft knock at the door followed by a pair of heels.
âMum!â Henry grinned as threw himself towards the beacon of my sexuality. Her hair was shorter and sheâd lost a bit of weight over the years, but my God, she was still as perfect as she was on screen.
âHenry dear!â she cooed as she bundled her son against her chest. The woman had impeccable taste, thatâs for sure; a white blouse, grey pencil skirt, stockings and heels that even had me drooling at the mouth. She kissed him on the cheek and wiped away the smudge of red lipstick she left,
âHow was your day?â
Henry turned around in his hot Motherâs arms and pointed to me, âI made a new friend; her name is Miss Emma and she says she knows you,â
âMiss Emma?â Henryâs motherâs brown eyes grazed over my body. Holy hell, she was so hot. I stood awkwardly in my jeans, white tee shirt and red jacket, clutching a stuffed bear. Her eyes zeroed in on the bear and I chucked it away behind me,
âUh hi, hello, Iâm EmmaâŚEmma Swan,â I stumbled forwards and held my hand out to the woman. She smiled stiffly as she shook my hand. Oh her hand was so soft.
âHello Ms Swan, my name is Regina Mills,â
âI, uh, yeah, already knew thatâŚâ I bit my lip awkwardly as Henry wrapped himself around Reginaâs waist and giggled into her stomach. Regina lifted a single eyebrow at me,
âOh, how so?â
I scratched the back of my neck, âkind of a big fan of yours, just saying,â
âShe used to watch you on tee-vee, Ma,â
âYeah, kind of knew I was gay after watching your show every afternoonâŚjust saying,â what the hell? Why couldnât I just shut the hell up?
âWhat does gay mean?â Henry piped up. Good job me, now the woman had to explain to her son something she shouldnât have to til he was like, a good few years older.
Regina didnât take her eyes off me when she brushed her thin fingers through her sonâs hair,
âitâs something Mummy is, dear,â
Hold the phone. Hold the actual fucking phone.
âOh, so Ms Emma knows you because youâre both in the gay together?â
âApparently so,â But hell I wasnât listening. Regina Mills was gay. Regina fucking Mills was into women and I was a woman and sheâs into people like meâŚwomen.
âOkay, cool. Can we get McDonaldâs for dinner?â Henry grabbed Reginaâs hand and pulled her towards the front door. Regina gave me a quick once over as Mary Margaret threw a soft ball at my head.
âOh my fucking God Mary Margaret, the womanâs gay!â I fist pumped the air and gleefully packed away the rest of the toys. A few minutes past before the front door flew open and a slightly breathless and dishevelled Regina Mills stumbled in.
âDid Henry forget something Regina?â
âNo, IâŚâ She stalked towards me and shoved a piece of paper in my hand, âcall me, yeah?â
I glanced at the piece of paper and saw a string of numbers with a little kiss at the end. I grinned brightly as she smiled shyly and exited the building.
 âYou actually bagged the hot actress; I think I hate you,â Mary Margaret shook her head in disbelief as she locked the front door. I watched a black Mercedes Benz pull out the car park and flash its lights. That definitely had to be Regina Mills. Â