I'm sorry. I just had to. This is established SQ (thank the lord!) and something that is loosely based off of a RP session between the amazing DoYouKnowWhatStarsAre? and myself. Rated for some suuuuggestiveness, language and Regina throwing stuff at Emma, although it's all in good fun! xD

I don't own Taylor Swift, her music, or Once Upon A Time. It would be very entertaining if I did, though. And Regina wouldn't be abused nearly as much. And fucking Rachel Tice (ie, Mother Superior/Blue Fairy) would have let Nova and Grumpy be happy. And, and, and. Swan Queen would be endgame, and Fairy Queen would happen before that.

Note: I like Taylor Swift's music, this is all in good fun. Don't take any reading-between-lines or not-in-between-lines insults to Taylor Swift too seriously.


Beep. Beep. Beeeeeep.

"Ugh..."

The blonde Sheriff rolled over in the bed and slammed her hand onto the accursed alarm clock. Today was a Monday, she just knew it. Only on Mondays, were the stupid, stupid alarm clocks set to - she squinted to see the numbers - five thirty in the morning, and only on Mondays, did Emma Swan find herself completely alone in the queen sized bed belonging to a queen and, as of recently, her White Knight.

And, damn those Mondays, Emma could hear the shower running. She could smell apple shampoo, even from a distance, and she could see the bane of her existence: the closed bathroom door.

Untangling herself from the sheets, Emma padded barefoot in just a tank top and boy shorts out of the doorway, across the hallway, and right up to the bathroom door. She raised a hand to knock lightly on the door, but mid descent, her hand stopped dead.

Because something was not the same. Something was different.

Was Regina, the Queen of Mean (and Evil), the cold Mayor of Storybrooke (well, it depended on what mood you caught her in - normally Emma caught her in the opposite, as of late), singing in the shower?

This seemed too good to be true. Emma paused to listen, wishing with every ounce of her being that she had some sort of recording device like her phone, or maybe a literal tape recorder - anything to get this pricelessness on tape. God knew Regina Mills would never, ever admit to singing in the shower. And until this very moment, she never had anything to admit to. Maybe, Emma supposed, that had to do with Emma usually BEING in the present venue.

Moments later, Emma's eyes bugged.

"I knew you were trouble when you walked in," the supposedly Evil Queen sang. Emma almost burst out laughing. No. This wasn't happening. This must be a dream...a really, really fucked up dream that Emma wished she could preserve forever.

"So shame on me now, you flew me to places I'd never been," Regina continued, oblivious to what was going on outside the door. Emma had to go in, she just had to, she needed to see Regina's face when the woman realized that she had gathered a one person audience (although, Emma added in her mind, she wouldn't mind seeing more than just her face).

"Till you put me down, oh, I knew you were trouble when you walked in, now I'm lying on the- "

Regina broke off when the door opened without warning, her voice dying in her throat momentarily. At least, until she could see the grinning like a madman face of Emma Swan, who was practically collapsing against the door.

"What are you SINGING?" Emma gasped out, shaking slightly. Regina poked her head around the opaque white curtain and glared at Emma.

"Do you have a problem with Taylor Swift's music?" she asked, her voice as cool and professional as if she were inquiring about a business transaction. Emma shook her head, holding her hands up in a sign of peace.

"No, no," she managed. "I just didn't pin you as a Swiftie, that's all. It's all...not your speed?"

Regina raised an eyebrow, her expression becoming almost defensive.

"Taylor Swift's music is very meaningful and accurately depicts the breaking of the heart, that's all," she defended, pouting indignantly. "It's very stress relieving to sing her songs."

Emma tried, she really did. She really tried not to laugh again (there are only so many times a death glare can be considered just a glare; at somepoint, it becomes an unspoken message of 'I will kill you, slowly and painfully'). But in the end she couldn't help it. After all, hearing Taylor Swift described so poetically can be quite amusing.

The blonde woman collapsed to the floor in a shaking ball of blonde tangles, red cheeks, and teary green eyes. About one second later, the laughter was cut off by a startled exclamation as Emma's face was smacked quite painfully with what was soon revealed to be a loofah. A second later, a sopping wet washcloth followed suit, and then the master bathroom became a hurricane of flying bathroom accessories, courtesy of one Ms. Regina Mills.

"Hey! Ow - that hurts! Stop it! I'm sorry, I won't laugh, I - oww!" Emma exclaimed as she fled from the bathroom, shielding her head and still laughing. Once she was gone, Regina smirked in triumph.

"I knew you were trouble when you walked in, Emma Swan!" she shouted. "I knew! I always know!"


So yeah. I hope you enjoyed that. I had fun writing it. Reviews make pixie dust which makes my magic fly! (Speaking of which, can we please talk about the S3 pictures of Lana/Regina and Rose/Tinkerbell? Please? Like...FAIRY QUEEN. Yes please. Fairy Queen leads to Swan Queen. It will. It has to. Prayer circle in the hopes that Regina at least gets three episodes of happiness with whoever this tragic romance is supposed to be with...hopefully Tink...