"Remind me why I'm doing this," Gold groused, trailing Regina through the house.
She pauses at the sideboard in the parlor, uncapping the glass decanter and pouring two measures of her homemade cider. Glancing back, she's almost disappointed to see that he's discarded his fine designer jacket somewhere in the foyer. A pity. She was looking forward to seeing it ruined. Still, the fact that he's here, unwillingly, at her command for the evening is satisfaction enough. "Because, Mr. Gold, you still owe me a favor for smoothing over that awkward mess with the neighborhood retailer's association. And everyone knows you always pay your debts." she adds, lips curling in a smug little smile over the rim of her glass. It wasn't often she managed to get the better of him and she intended to savor every last second of it.
He huffs something that might have been a laugh, but accepts the tumbler she hands him. "And you couldn't just take care of it yourself? Is the good sheriff not taking your calls anymore?"
"Graham is busy tonight. And why should I ruin a new manicure when I have you to take care of the messy work for me?" She gives him her brightest smile. He's going to have to try harder than that half-hearted dig to flag her spirits tonight.
Gold settles for countering with that unnerving stare of his, like he can dampen her enjoyment by sheer force of will, as he takes a drink. Regina doesn't miss the way his lips purse a little at the first sip.
"You don't like it?" she asks.
"It's a bit sweet for my taste."
She has to resist the urge to smirk. "Well I might have something darker, if you prefer."
"Trying to get me drunk first?"
"Oh, where would be the fun in that? I'd like you to remember this."
"Shall we get down to business, then?" he says, setting the half-full glass down with a little clack, Leaning one hip against the sideboard, he starts on the cuffs of his shirt. After removing his cufflinks- gold, of course, and Regina fails to be the least bit surprised at that- and dropping them in a pocket, he begins neatly rolling up the sleeves, exposing bony wrists and skinny forearms.
"Eager, Mr. Gold?" Abandoning the attempt at decency, Regina smirks openly
"Oh, I just hate to keep a lady waiting."
Carrying her glass with her, she leads the way towards the back of the house. It's a moment before she hears the unmistakable step-tap of his cane on her marble floor. "I've already gotten things warmed up for you. If you have any idea what you're doing, this shouldn't take long. " she calls back over her shoulder.
"Don't you worry about me, dear. I have done this a few times before, you know."
"Really?" Regina can't mask the note of surprise in her voice. "I never would have guessed."
"You really are full of surprises, Mr. Gold." she purrs, waiting for him to join her in the doorway of the kitchen.
Pulling a crisp white apron off the hook in the pantry she hands it to him. (And Regina regrets for just a minute that she doesn't have anything cheerfully floral for him to wear. Or something colorful with chickens on it, perhaps.) "Butter and eggs are in the fridge. The oven's already pre-heating. Everything else you should need is on the counter."
She leans against the counter, savoring both his degradation and another sip of cider as she watches him tie the apron around his skinny frame. "And remember, these cookies are for Henry's school. I expect nothing less than perfection."