Detention problems

The soft afternoon breeze seeped within the room thanks to the open windows and the laughter of playing kids found it way inside in where a brunette teacher graded paper after paper with tired eyes, perfect poise and black rimmed glasses on top of her nose. The wooden desk was overflowing with exams and essays and the pen of the woman moved from one place to another from the paper, red ink interlacing itself with the sentences of the woman's pupils as she murmured softly every time she finished a new exam.

The left hand of the woman was playing absentmindedly with the gold necklace that was fastened around her neck but her fingers fell when, from between the children's laughter and warm light, she could make out a quick succession of steps that came from the other side of the closed door of the small office she worked in whenever she wasn't at her classroom. Narrowing her eyes, she put down the pen and looked at her watch in where the sharp hands of the clock looked back at her.

Pursing her lips Regina threw her head backwards, mentally preparing herself, squaring her shoulders as she did so.

It was always interesting to see the parents of a child for the first time and it didn't matter how many times that happened; Regina always found in the first impression the quickest way to see if a children's behavior was linked to how their parents looked or acted. That was why, even if outside she projected the calmest demeanor inside, she felt slightly curious of what kind of woman would be the mother of none other than Henry Swan.

The ten-year-old boy had arrived to Storybrooke four months ago sporting a Bostonian accent and imagination to spare. He had always been kind to everyone around him and, although quiet, he had never seemed to be picked up by the occasional bully that every course seemed to had. Regina had quickly found herself completely smitten with the kid and more often than what she would like she would end up smiling at him whenever he answered to her questions. Something that had already arrived the rumor mill considering how strict Regina was and how impeccable her reputation as being a respected but hated teacher was.

A few hours before, however, when she had seen Henry defending Nicholas Zimmel by punching a few of those damned bullies, she had been forced to intervene. School rules were clear; no fights within its borders and even though Henry insisted that what he had done was merely defending himself Regina hadn't had other option but send him to detention with the express request that his mother would need to come to talk to her.

And so there they were, Regina thought grimly, licking her bottom lip and taking a deep breath, channeling her stricter look possible. Henry didn't deserve the detention, that much she knew, but she couldn't very well tell that to whom had been signed as the only parental contact of the young dark haired boy; that would be inappropriate after all. As much, some inner insidious voice whispered inside her mind, sounding very similar to her mother's, as the gossips about the mother's boy; a former bail bondsperson who had taken Graham's place as a sheriff when the man had decided to move on from the small city into greener pastures. Regina hadn't come across her once ever since the boy's arrival but it had been impossible to not hear about the green-eyed beauty that now run the station with enough swagger to have Ruby smirking whenever her name was uttered.

Green eyed beauty that suddenly opened her door and stood in front of her with her hands on her hips and blonde tresses falling to her shoulders as she took a step inside the room. Immediately Regina could feel the temperature in the room rose and so she settled her jaw, standing and offering the woman the chair in front of her desk with one single nod.

"Miss Swan." Her voice didn't betray her sudden nerves and for that she found herself thanking the interminable hours her mother had put her through during her teen years in where being proper was always the most important thing of all.

The other woman, however, shot her an angry look scorching enough to probably make a dent on the desk's glossy surface as she took those last steps between her and Regina, her high boots stomping against the floor as she, too, rose her chin, the muscles on her throat visible as she looked at Regina, as if sizing her.

"You must be Miss Mills." She replied, not even bothering to shake her hand with the teacher's as she sat on the small chair with one fluid movement that spoke of strength. Regina, however, could see the small nervous tics, tics that the boy the two of them were there for also shared with the new sheriff; the fidgeting fingers, the tilt on her head, the tightly closed jaw and for those she sat as well, interlacing her fingers after picking her glasses and leaving them on the desk's surface, between them and on top of the essays she had been marking before. She could see the other woman glance at them briefly but when she looked back at those green eyes Emma was already looking back at her, lips pursed and arms tightly crossed. "Henry told me you wanted to talk with me."

It was obvious that the sheriff had already formed an opinion about Regina and the brunette teacher swallowed before forcing her eyes to not wander to the other woman's arms, on display thanks to the tank top she wore, or the general physique of the Bostonian. This, she thought while focusing on the matter at hand while trying her best not to call Ruby Lucas on the spot and demand her to tell her why she hadn't been told that Emma Swan was as beautiful as she seemed to be infuriating, wasn't the problem. Henry was and for him she cleared her throat before nodding quickly, composure as perfect as possible, back straight as she crossed her right leg over her left. A movement Emma couldn't see from her where she was seated at the other side of the table but one that her eyes followed inexplicably when Regina moved.

"He was seen punching John Darling." She started, doing her best not to look at the blonde as she explained herself. "As you probably know that kind of behavior is unacceptable."

The sheriff hummed before moving forward, uncrossing her own legs and propping her arms over her knees as she did so. Her eyes still gleamed in anger and Regina found herself narrowing hers in an attempt to keep them frozen on those irises instead of start wandering.

"Wasn't he defending Nicholas?" She said, a smirk touching her lips briefly before that, too, disappeared. "I thought that helping a friend out in one of those… unacceptable situations would be something the school would be more than happy to see."

"Not if the method used is a punch in the face, Miss Swan"

Both women stared at each other. Emma apparently not wanting to move an inch and Regina knowing full well that she had smiled inwardly when she had seen the normally well-behaved Henry punch John after the boy had insulted Nicholas. Regardless, Henry needed to take in the punishment and she was supposed to explain why to the mother. Mother that had been subjected to rumors ever since she had arrived to Storybrooke and who had been seen frequenting the small gay bar Storybrooke had at the edge of town. A place that Regina knew very well thanks to a particular lanky brunette she could picture laughing her ass off the second Regina told her her first impression with the sheriff.

Growling between pursed lips, Emma moved backwards on her chair, eyeing Regina as she did so. The movement made the woman woke up from her reverie and she found herself looking at Emma with too many inappropriate thoughts on her head.

"I will talk with him." Emma finally spoke, a mirthless smile on her face. "It's the best I can do so I don't add the epithet of bad mother to the list I already have."

"Miss Swan I assure…"

"On one condition." Emma stood and looked at Regina while transforming her mirthless smile into a smirk. "Go out with me. Today."

"Miss…"

But Emma was already turning to the door, smirk still intact when she turned and looked at her.

"Until later Miss Mills."

Regina closed her eyes, propping her own elbows over the desk and growling softly out of desperation. Infuriating indeed.

And gorgeous as well.