Prompt: Can you write a drunk angry Emma. Established SQ?
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She was drunk. Not tipsy, not slightly inebriated. No, Emma Swan was absolutely, completely wasted.
"A-another," she slurred and winked at the barman, raising her empty tumbler.
"I'm cutting you off, Sheriff," he laughed. "The Royals would never forgive me if I sent the Princess home with alcohol poisoning." His tone was sarcastic, everyone knew Rob had never been one of the Charmings' partisans.
At the mention of her parents, her cheerful mood darkened, and Emma slammed her glass on the counter hard enough for it to crack. Sensing he had probably said something wrong, Rob placed a new glass in front of her and refilled it one last time, hoping to keep her calm.
"Do you want me to call someone to pick you up, sheriff?" he asked her innocently enough. He was not equipped to handle a drunken Saviour and her unpredictable magic, but he knew who could.
Taking the hint, Emma drained her glass and rose unsteadily on her feet.
"Fucker." She sneered at him and with a flick of the wrist she magicked a half empty bottle of tequila in her hand. Without another word she disappeared in a cloud of white smoke.
/
Emma reappeared by the docks. She staggered her way down to the beach, taking a few generous swigs of the amber liquid.
Red and blue lights flashed behind her. The Saviour snorted when she saw her dad in the patrol car pulling over. At least he had the brilliance of mind to leave his wife at home.
"Came to arrest me, deputy?" She yelled over her shoulder. She didn't care if she was making a scene. Emma Swan was passed giving a damn about her parents' oh-so important goody-goody image.
"Emma, let's go home," Charming begged. "You're drunk, you need to sleep it off. Your mother and I are sorry for what we did, but you can't keep acting like this…"
"Who the fuck do you think you are to tell me what I should and shouldn't do? You think I can just get over what you did? Just like that?" She cried, snapping her fingers for emphasis. "You corrupted my fucking best friend! My only friend. You took her away from her mother, blackened her soul and for what? To ensure that I would be good? Well guess what..."
"Swan, what's going on?" Regina interrupted, plumes of purple smoke dissipating around her.
"Nothing's going on Regina, we're going home," Charming said tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Come on, kiddo."
"I'm not going home with you," Emma spat, her face drawn into a scowl. She stumbled backward away from him, tequila sloshing in its bottle.
"No, you're not. You're coming with me, we're going home," the mayor said repeating Charming's last words, glaring at him. There was something oddly satisfying in being the one taking the Saviour home.
/
"I hate them," Emma slurred as Regina helped her out of her damned too-tight jeans.
"You're drunk, Dear. Hate is a big word. You're disappointed."
"Don't tell me how I feel, Gina!"
"Keep your voice down, Miss Swan. If you wake up Henry you are sleeping on the couch," she warned.
Emma glared at her, but stayed quiet. She took the two white pills Regina handed to her and dry-swallowed them.
"I can tell you you are going to feel it in the morning, Dear," Regina chuckled as she helped the Saviour lie down and pulled the blankets over her.
By the time Regina got ready for bed, Emma was already asleep and snoring softly. The mayor slipped in behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist.
"Goodnight, Miss Swan."
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