Anonymous asked: emma ask regina to prom, regina says no, repeatedly
Summary: It's Henry's prom at Storybrooke High. Emma and Regina have been dancing around each other for years, and Emma thinks the formal dance, which the school has decided to put on like an Enchanted Forest ball, might be the opportunity to tell Regina how much she loves her. But first she has to get the woman to go. Sigh. This proves difficult.
Nonchalant, she told herself. Nothing to it. Your reasoning will win her over. She can't resist Henry stuff.
"Hey, um, Regina?" She'd hung back at the mansion's front door after sending Henry to the car.
The brunette was leaning against the frame of her front door, gaze moving to her from watching Henry wistfully. Emma felt hope. "Yes, Emma?"
Emma smiled at that. She has been 'Emma' now for several years, since Neverland. Hearing it increasingly did funny things though, like make her grin goofily.
"So, we're letting Henry go to this prom, right?"
"Yes, we are," Regina replied. "It's an appropriate rite of passage."
"Yeah, I, uh, I remember 16." She rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm gonna chaperone. You might want to come with."
"Uh, yeah, you know. Keep 'em from spiking the punch, sneaking off to the bathrooms… y'know."
"You think Henry will behave this way?" Regina sounded appalled.
"No! He's your kid there. Perfect gentleman."
"Rightly so." Regina straightened.
"So, um, you'll come?"
"No. Absolutely not. Henry will never believe we trust him if we hover over his shoulder."
Emma couldn't believe it. She'd just been reasoned right out of what she had thought to be a surefire approach. "Oh."
"Was that all, Emma?" Regina asked. Her brown eyes searched Emma's face, doing funny things again to Emma's insides.
Emma rubbed her stomach in a bid to crush the butterflies. "Oh, um, yeah. I… I guess." Stuffing her hands in her pockets Emma turned to go. She turned back at the curb, longing for one last look, one last word. "Good night, Regina," she offered as tenderly as her tormented feelings could muster.
A small smile — those were more frequent too — appeared at her words. "Good night, Emma."
Regina stepped back inside her home and Emma watched the door close.
Emma stood in the tuxedo shop as Henry was going through his fitting. "You gotta tell her you're all right with her being there, Henry."
Adjusting his bowtie in the mirror while the seamstress checked his pants hem, Henry said, "She actually said I wouldn't think she trusts me?"
"You know how important that is to her. So you gotta tell her it'd be fine."
"Are you gonna be there?"
"As sheriff, yeah."
"In uniform?" Emma nodded. "No, nuh, uh," Henry objected.
"Tuxedo," he said. "It'll make it more relaxed."
Emma looked at the seamstress standing up from pinning Henry's pants. "You probably don't have —"
"Oh, but I do, sheriff. Right this way."
Just before Emma disappeared, she looked at Henry. "You'll speak to your mom?"
"Yeah." He grinned and stepped down from the stool.
"So, I hear Henry told you he'd be cool with us at the dance."
"He did say something to that effect," Regina replied.
"So what? It's their evening. As their former queen I would only draw unnecessary attention from their fun."
"But, Regina nobody thinks of you as the Evil Queen anymore."
"When was the last time you had your house pelted with eggs, or anyone t.p'd your tree?"
"It has been several years."
"That's hardly proof they love me, dear."
Oh, Emma liked that sound. She grinned at Regina. "It's proof they don't hate you."
Regina still shook her head. "I think not." She stepped back onto the walk leading to her home. "I wish you a quiet patrol, Sheriff Swan."
"Regina, I —" The brunette turned back. Emma lost her nerve. "Nevermind. Have a good evening, Regina."
"I will. Emma."
Emma drove away in frustrated silence.
"Just come right out with it, Ems. tell her you want to take her to the dance."
Emma sipped sullenly at a late night coffee in Granny's. It was now four days until the Storybrooke High School Prom, and she was no closer to getting Regina Mills to attend, much less finding a way to claim the woman for a dance, or several, during the night.
"She'll turn me down," Emma said forlornly. "I'm the daughter of the woman she still can't stand."
"But you're the mother of her son, and that does mean something, to both of you."
"I tried the chaperoning angle."
"Try the direct approach," Ruby encouraged.
"I can't," Emma whined. "She only sees me as the person she shares Henry with. Me, alone? She can't stand."
"Really?" Ruby sounded dubious.
Emma hung her head. "Really. I never see her unless it's to hand off Henry or talk about his stuff."
Ruby frowned. "Is that her doing, or yours?"
Emma shrugged. She didn't know.
"Why are you going?" Emma asked her mother. They were in City Hall following a city council meeting.
"Because as mayor, I should go. Besides, David and I haven't been dancing in ages."
Emma exhaled. "Will you let Regina know she can attend?"
"Regina? Whatever for?"
"It's Henry's prom. I think she should go. She should see him."
"You want your father and I to invite Regina to the Storybrooke High Prom?"
"You'd be able to make sure people left her alone."
"And that's important to —"
"To Henry, of course." Emma jumped quickly on the reason. "Anything for the kid, right?"
Snow frowned. "But if Henry already asked?"
"She thinks it will distract people from the real purpose of the evening, but see, your invitation would change all that. She wouldn't be crashing the party."
"If it's that important…" Snow's voice trailed off.
"It is," Emma insisted. "So you'll do it?"
"Yeah, um, okay."
Emma grinned and hurried away.
Bringing Henry home to the mansion, Emma thoughtfully brought up the mail from the streetside box. Her parent's invitation was right on top.
"Hey, Regina," she said as she handed over the stack. "Why would my parents be writing you, huh? Why don't you read it?"
Brown eyes blazed purple and the letter turned to ash in about two seconds.
"Oh." Emma stared at the debris.
"I don't care to read anything your parents might have to say to me."
"Oh." Emma felt the rejection like a slap to the face. She tucked her hands in her pockets.
"Good night, Emma."
Without looking back, Emma replied sullenly, "Good night, Regina."
She walked home to the loft apartment she now had to herself, alone.
Emma stared at the tuxedos in the shop window. She was supposed to go inside for her final fitting. The prom was tomorrow night. She probably should just wear her uniform. There wouldn't be anyone there she would want to dance with anyway.
She had really wanted this. She had dropped out of high school before any proms. Yeah, she had gotten her GED after Henry had been born. But GED programs didn't hold things like dances.
Emma turned. "Regina, what are you doing here?"
"Just walking home from a few errands."
"Oh, ah, yeah. You. Um. You doing okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine."
"Good. That's good."
"You are still supervising at the prom tomorrow evening?"
"Uh. Yeah. Yes."
"In uniform?" Regina looked Emma up and down in her uniform.
"Henry thought I should wear something a little less official."
"A dress would make it difficult to apprehend delinquents, I'd imagine."
"Yeah. He suggested a tux." Emma nodded toward the shop.
"A tuxedo?" Regina's eyebrow raised.
"Is that what you will do?"
"Maybe. I guess. I don't know."
Regina looked at the tuxedos in the window, then at Emma, then back to the display before her hand landed on Emma's arm.
Emma's gaze fell into Regina's. "Choose an emerald tie. It will set off your eyes."
Regina's heels echoed on the pavement as she departed quickly. Emma remained frozen in place until Regina was out of sight.
Nonchalant, Emma told herself. She tucked and untucked her hands from her pockets and twitched her fingers around the knot of her tie.
Henry had already shot her a thumbs up before taking his date, Grace, into the hall. Emma was working outside security during arrivals and would enter once most people had passed through the bag inspection station.
An emerald clutch purse was passed into her hands as she scanned the faces of teens entering the building, trying to build a list of likely suspects for tomfoolery should anything happen that evening.
"You're good," she said, her hands finding nothing in the bag. "Have a good evening."
"A good evening might include a dance with the sheriff, perhaps?"
Emma's gaze snapped to the speaker. "Regina!"
The woman's dark hair was loose and full of soft curls. She wore an emerald green dress, Greek styling, off one shoulder, gathered at the other and waist with glittering gems. Dear god, she looked… "Gorgeous," Emma breathed.
Regina held her clutch to her chest in both hands. "You look very nice, too." She paused and Emma's heart caught as the woman licked her lips. "The tuxedo suits you. Emma."
Emma stepped from behind the security table. "Regina Mills," she offered formally and held out her elbow. "Will you allow me the honor to escort you inside?"
Tucking her hand into the crook of Emma's arm, Regina replied softly, "I thought you would never ask."