Henry has been dropped off at Emma and Killian's apartment (he'd seemed quite grumpy about having to wake so early, but Regina had managed to get him moving with the promise of a mother-son ice cream date later on in the day; an after school treat which would most likely ruin his appetite for dinner, but she'd allow it this once). Plus, the boy enjoyed spending time with Emma and Killian, particularly Killian, and Regina had imagined that was because his father had been ripped from his life before he was even born and the man had become a bit of a father-figure for him. She had already thanked the couple profusely and given them instructions on where to drop Henry off for school even though they've done it before and should remember, but she can never be too cautious when it comes to her son.
It's 6:32 am by the time Regina steps into line at Topped Off, a small, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop she has taken a liking to in her time as mayor of New York City. Most days when she stopped off there, the line was small, only one or two people in front of her, making it a quick trip. Today was not one of those days. Well, really, if she'd come an hour later, at her usual time, it probably would have been fine, but she'd come in early today and there was a good six or seven people ahead of her from her count and there's more people filing in line behind her. She has time, though. Or, at least, that's what she tells herself even as she checks her phone and feels a sudden bout of anxiety settling in her stomach the way it always does when she feels rushed.
The school she is suppose to give a talk at doesn't start its day until 7:25 and she has her talking points on her, but she still wished to have time to sit down and properly enjoy her cup of coffee before heading over there. At this rate, she'd have to take it to go in order to be on time thanks to New York traffic.
She's finally nearing the front of the line when she hears it, a soft clicking sound coming from further back in the line. Nothing frightening; nothing that has her alarm going off in her head that anyone might be in danger. No, somebody is impatient and it has her turning slightly, glancing back over her shoulder to catch sight of the brunette who keeps tapping the stiletto heel of her shoe against the floor.
Regina's gaze shifts from her heel up her body, mentally noting the way the woman's high-waisted skirt and silk blouse clung to her body in just the right way to show off her curves and the fact that, yes, she was proud of her femininity, but she was still strong. Her gaze finally meets the woman's features, taking in the red lipstick that stands out against pale skin and the way loose curls frame her face perfectly.
Regina only pulls her gaze away from the woman when the person in line behind her clears their throat, chin jutting out a bit to motion toward the counter where the barista was waiting for Regina to step forward and order.
"Sorry," she murmured to the stranger before stepping forward and offering the man behind the counter a warm smile. "The usual to go, please. And," she pauses, glances back at the woman who had shifted forward in line but was still tapping her heel and glancing at her phone, an anxious expression spreading across her features, "whatever she is having," she finishes as she turns back to the man.
It's not meant to be quite such a leading statement, but, apparently, the man had taken it that way if the raise of his brow was anything to go by.
"I can't have you losing a customer, now, can I?" She retorts before stepping away from the counter and striding a few paces until she is face-to-face with the woman in question. "Go ahead and place your order," she began, a warm smile spreading across her lips as she seemed to grab the woman's attention, bringing it up to her features instead of keeping it focused on the phone in her hand, "it's on me."
Regina quirked a manicured brow up at the woman when there was no response, smile shifting into a smirk, "Unless you'd like to continue waiting in line when you're obviously in a rush."
That works; has the woman stepping out of line and up to the counter as she slips her phone into her purse.
"A large Earl Grey to go, please," she states, an accent flooding her words, "plain," she adds almost as if it's an after thought.
The woman turns to thank Regina and her smirk shifts into a smile again as she shrugs a shoulder, stating, "Perks of being mayor."
She pauses then to withdraw her card and slide it across the counter to cover both drinks, stepping off to the side only once the transaction is completed and her card is safely tucked back in her wallet.
"Regina Mills," she offers as she turns toward the woman once more, hand extended for her to take hold of and shake. The woman does, grip more firm than Regina had expected, though her thoughts are pulled from that when the woman offers her name in response, "Peggy Carter," and there's that beautiful accent again.
"Truly, thank you," the woman— Peggy— states as she steps further away from the counter where they ordered and strides to the opposite end of the counter where their drinks would be handed to them within the next few minutes.
"No need to thank me," Regina states, following suit in stepping to the other end of the counter, "I've had those days and wish there had been someone around to help speed things along, so why not help someone else out when they're in that situation?" Karma? Perhaps. Trying to simply be kind to others? Definitely.
"Do you use your perks of being mayor with many people?"
The question takes her by surprise and his her brows rising, forehead creasing as she takes in Peggy's features, from the way one corner of her lips quirked up into a crooked grin, to the way her eyes held a deeper question.
"No," she comments simply, "I actually try not to use them— try to fit in instead of stand out." Easier said than done, though, she admits to herself. Not the part about not using the perks that came with being mayor, but about not standing out; that was hard to do when your face was constantly on television, in some newspaper or another, or you were giving a speech at an event that drew quite a crowd.
"That's more than you could ask of most people." That accent clings to each word that slips from Peggy's lips and Regina suddenly finds herself curious as to why the woman had come to the states to begin with, but was that really a question for a first meeting?
"What brings you to New York?" Apparently it was in Regina's mind, "From London, if my ears don't deceive me," she added moments later.
"It appears you've got quite a good ear," Peggy states, head tilting to the side slightly, arms coming to cross over her chest, "my work brought me over to the states, actually, and I've been here ever since."
A woman's voice from behind the counter pulls both their attention as she calls out the order of a large Earl Grey tea. Peggy gracefully steps forward and reaches for the cup, a smile gracing her features now as she thanks the woman and turns back to Regina.
"I'm afraid I must be on my way," she states as she switches the cup from one hand to the other, extending a hand toward Regina this time. Regina took hold of it and gave it a single shake. "It's been a pleasure. Perhaps next time we meet, we'll have more time to hold a proper conversation."
Regina loosens her grip, lets Peggy's hand slip from it, and had been intent on commenting on Peggy's words, but then that voice rings out, 'Large, non-fat, caramel macchiato,' and tugs Regina's attention away. It's the one indulgence she allows herself— non-fat to balance out the calories the caramel adds— and she happily reaches for the cup, mimicking Peggy's earlier words of thanking the woman before turning back to look at Peggy, but the woman had already slipped out the door and into the sea of people that lined the sidewalk.
Her gaze slowly shifted to the cashier, offering him a faint smile before exiting the coffee shop and heading for her car so she could begin making her way to the school she was suppose to talk at. Usually, she would have been going over her talking points during her drive, possibly thinking up questions students might ask and the answer she would give, but today her mind kept slipping back to the beautiful brunette she now counted as an acquaintance even if she wished she were a bit more than that.