A/N: Hey guys this is my first ever Swan Queen fanfic so any reviews you might have are very much appreciated. I've read some absolutely awesome ones and thought I'd throw my hat in the ring, for better or worse. I've only ever written Skins stuff before (British version series 3) so feel free to check those out on my page. I was kind of going for a growing relationship vibe with this, having Regina and Emma learn about each others past and see how it changes their opinion of each other. Not sure how well it worked but I'd love to know if I should keep it as a one shot or continue with both characters backstories, any thoughts would totally make my day. (Not even joking!) I'm from Wales so we're only just getting series 2- that's why I pretty much stayed away from canon stuff, in case you're wondering.

PS. Viva la SQ ship!

TELLS

"Everyone has tells."

"Excuse me Miss Swan?" Regina looked up from the paperwork lying on her desk with barely disguised irritation to see a brief smug grin on the blondes face.

"Even you."

The brunette eyed her with disdain. "While I appreciate your talent for viewing me as someone above other mere human beings, is this at all relevant to Storybrooke's current graffiti problem?"She motioned to the manilla folder lying on her desk.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to know what yours was? ...Since we're here and all."

Regina stared at her.

"You have no idea what mine is, Sheriff."

Emma smiled. "Sure about that are you?"

The dark haired woman opposite lowered her eyes again. "As sure as I am that you had something disgustingly calorie laden for breakfast this morning."

"Because you've been doing it for like the last twenty minutes."

Regina's head snapped up. "I most certainly have not. And could we please focus. Some of us have actual work to do."

"Well Holy Cow. Imagine the headlines. After all her vile manipulative deeds, evil queen found buried under a landslide of paperwork. "Emma snorted. "The irony."

And just out of interest, what is irony, Miss Swan, can you tell me that? "

There was more than a hint of challenge in the mayor's superior tone and Emma felt her face flush. She may not have been the smartest kid in class but that didn't mean she hadn't figured her way round problems that she'd come across.

"Well, it uh, depends."

"On?"

"Whether you mean verbal, dramatic or situational?" She replied as casually as she could.

Regina froze.

"Well I guess broadly it's the difference between what is and what seems to be. If we're talking... you know, nutshell. Which is surprisingly appropriate for this place."

Regina's jaw practically dropped.

And Emma gave herself a little mental high five. Not least for actually paying attention the other night to Mary-Margaret's rant about the papers she'd had to mark on JM Barrie and how none of the kids had understood the concept. There'd been a long detailed lecture in there too as they sat at the kitchen table and to be quite honest Emma had only just managed to remember those few words by some massive stroke of luck. Not that she'd ever admit it to the mayor of Storybrooke.

Coming out of her thoughts, Emma looked up and caught the very same mayor's eye at that moment. She was surprised by what she saw there. She could have almost sworn that she detected a streak of shame buried deeply in the brown orbs. Almost as if Regina was sorry she'd asked the question. But that couldn't be true. Regina Mills lived to humiliate people; everyone knew that, it was her main enjoyment in life.

...wasn't it?

"Miss Swan, I'm sorry."

It was the turn of Emma's jaw to drop then.

Regina swallowed and held her head up across from her, "I didn't mean to imply that... " her voice died away.

Regaining her senses, Emma decided to take pity on her and shrugged, "Yeah you did but its ok." She pointed at her forehead. "This, not exactly my strong suit."

"There are people here who would beg to differ," Regina said quietly.

"Which people would these be?"

The Mayor brushed her dress down a little awkwardly. "I don't know. Henry. Mary-Margaret and that chump of a husband of hers. Ruby I suppose." She waved a hand. "People. That you've saved. That you helped...that...that...just people!"

"Ok. Cool." Emma grinned at the flustered gaze of the older woman. "Seriously though, everyone has tells. They don't know they have them but they do. It's what makes them so easy to read."

"Why do I get the feeling you like that fact?" said Regina with curiosity.

Emma considered that for a moment. "Yeah I guess. A rebellious little streak in your own skin that makes a break from the party line. What's not to like?"

Regina smiled and it struck the Saviour as the first strangely genuine smile she'd seen from the other woman.

"And it served you pretty well growing up I suppose?"

"Saved my hide a couple of times that's for sure."

That was the turning point. At least that's how it seemed.

It was the moment that took the Saviour by surprise.

Getting up from her leather chair, Regina Mills sauntered over to her drinks cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whisky. Unscrewing the lid, she poured it into two tumblers then stowed it away again. Returning to the desk, she sat down with poise then hesitating a little, pushed one of the glasses over to where Emma sat.

Emma looked at her aghast. "During work hours, Madam Mayor?"

"Well if you don't want it," replied Regina and moved to take it back but Emma grabbed at the crystal.

"No no, I was just asking."

The smirk on her boss's face was unmistakeable but it faded a little as a new question sprang unbidden into Regina's mind.

"Would you tell me?"

"Huh?"

Regina laughed at the look of abject confusion on Emma's face.

"About one of those times that it 'saved your hide.'

"Oh."

Then...

"Oh!" Said Emma, as she realised that she hadn't actually told anyone in Storybrooke about her past. About her childhood.

"You don't have to, dear," interjected the mayor, a little thrill of disappointment running through her veins at the Sheriff's hesitation. "It's none of my business."

Emma took a large gulp of her drink and stared at the older woman. "No it's not that, I just...I haven't...I mean..."

She let the tumbler roll over her palm and watched the flattened flesh move.

"You really want to hear about it?"

She looked up, feeling strangely vulnerable.

And Regina smiled again, in that new but familiar way. "I do."

Emma in response sat up straighter and thought back to the first time it had occurred to her that she could honestly and truly read people.

And she knew with absolute clarity how she should start.

"Well," she began, frowning. "The first group foster home I went to was called Mount Parnassus. It was in West Roxbury and there was this one kid- Johno. Johno Ligane. A real asshole you know..."

He'd challenged her to a fight in the yard. And she'd agreed before she'd even thought about it, but when she realized exactly how much bigger he was than her she knew she'd have to use something other than brute strength to come out victorious.

So she watched him. Hour after hour over the two days before the throw-down. How he zeroed in on the weaker kids and devised individual little humiliations for each of them. Tripping them up when they carried their food. Or throwing their chocolate bars into the communal toilet. How he loitered around in the dining room after lunch to steal leftovers when no-one was looking then took them to his room. Cakes and muffins and mounds of ice cream he stuffed into an old backpack. And it was as she was staring through his bedroom window afterwards, watching him punching the walls with all the excess energy of a boxer that it hit her.

What it all meant. And what she needed to do.

Soon enough Thursday rolled around, the day of the fight and everyone was buzzing about it, even kids she'd never talked to. Sneaking into the kitchens mid-morning, Emma checked out the delights that were on offer for the day. Sloppy Joes, chicken drumsticks and salad for the main. Then it looked like Pecan Pie or Cheesecake for dessert. Leaving the savoury food untouched, she stacked up the pies until they were balanced under her chin and wobbled her way outside to the industrial size dustbins. Letting them all topple in, she quickly made her way back, grabbed the couple of cheesecakes and deposited them in the same way. Brushing off her hands, with a small grin, she then headed back up to her shared room to read her latest comics until lunchtime. There was a collective groan when the announcement was made that there was going to be no dessert today, and somehow she managed to join in without giving herself away. It wasn't easy. But eventually the fuss died down and everyone got on with their day. She didn't stop watching him though. She watched as he stomped up the stairs, watched as he tore his room apart looking for the secret stash of Twinkies and Reece's Pieces that had mysteriously disappeared from the Eerie Indiana box under the bed.

By the time six o'clock came around and she stood waiting in the windy quad with a circle of onlookers that grew bigger by the second, Johno showed up, walking slowly towards everyone. No-one else noticed it, but she could see the fine sheen of sweat on his face and the slump in his massive shoulders as he sized her up. She felt a brief moment of panic then, and wondered if she could just call it off. But it was too late. She'd never live it down if she did and the thought of all the taunts that'd be thrown her way made up her mind.

Pushing a blonde lock of hair behind her ear, Emma swallowed then waved her hand in a 'come and get it' motion. He didn't need telling twice, apparently. Charging at her, she watched alertly until he was a heartbeat away then sidestepped and cheekily slapped him on the back of the neck as he went past. He turned angrily at the act and charged again with even more speed. So she repeated her manoeuvre, adding a pull on the small hairs at the bottom of his skull for good measure.

He turned faster this time and swung his arm out. Emma dodged it expertly, letting his own momentum take him off balance. Jumping onto his back, she brought her elbow down onto his neck with a dull thud then dove off immediately, planting her feet evenly on the concrete.

He spun round, "You bitch!"

"Sticks and stones, jerk-wad." she shrugged.

The sheen of sweat was quite easy to see now, at least to her. It covered his whole body and she could see the effort it was taking to get his legs to move. It wasn't going to take much longer, she thought thankfully.

And that was when the small rock smacked the side of her face and she yelped in pain.

He was grinning at her. "Thanks for the suggestion ass-hole."

Damnit, pay attention, she whispered angrily to herself and wiped away the smear of blood threatening to seep into her eye.

Re-focusing, Emma bounced from one foot to the other and waited for his next move. Except that there wasn't one. He was motionless a few feet away, breathing heavily and her heart jumped into her chest. When the expected move didn't come and he just stood there glaring at her, she started to freak out a little that her plan was going to let her down after all. Something had to change.

So she tried a new tactic and moved towards him. Feinting as if to hit him, she watched his fist respond and let it flash past her right ear. Moving to his left, she jabbed again and ducked under his punch. Spinning around him, keeping him moving in a circle, she kept up the game; nipping in to 'attack' then lunging out of the way of his angry response. After a few minutes of this, Johno's eyes were beginning to glaze over and his arms were hanging limply at his sides between jabs. Even the crowd could see it and had begun wandering away in ones and twos. It wasn't about them though. At least not for her.

Making her final move, Emma moved right into his face and shoved the boy backwards as hard as she could. Grunting with humiliation, he stopped himself from falling and lunged forward with all of his remaining energy. Jumping out of his way, she watched as Johno, the boy that had made all the other kids cry at some point in their stay collapse to his knees in front of her, absolutely exhausted.

And she realised. She'd won. She'd beaten him and he clearly knew it as he hung his head, eyes on the floor. Brains had beaten brawn for once.

The sense of relief that flooded through her veins was exhilarating. The remnants of the audience however didn't agree. They began to wander off then, grumbling that the entertainment hadn't gone the way they'd expected and Emma was left alone with Johno in front of her.

And the truth was she could have done a hundred things. Could have sauntered over there and crowed in his face. Could have run inside to steal an old camera and taken a photo of him to immortalise the humiliation forever. It even crossed her mind that she could have slapped him again, kicked him while he was down. Literally.

But the truth was she didn't want to. She'd made her point to herself if no-one else.

Instead, walking over to his slumped body, she reached into her pocket as she knelt down next to him. Pulling out a Chocolate Crisp bar she held it out in offering. The wariness and hatred in his eyes almost made her change her mind but steeling herself, she took one of his hands, unfurled the clenched fingers and placed the bar in his palm.

"You should eat this," she said quietly.

"Why?" he snarled.

"Because you're diabetic and you haven't had any sugar since breakfast."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not a pussy."

"Being ill doesn't make you...that." she said simply, unwilling to use that word.

"I'm gonna pound whoever told you."

She shook her head. "No-one told me."

And he blinked, as the anger faded a little. "How do you know that then?"

Emma shrugged, "Figured it out. I'm weird like that."

"It's still none of your business." He sniffed. "And this wasn't a fair fight."

Emma raised an eyebrow as she stood up. "When did you ever play fair?"

They stared at each other.

Neither willing to concede the point.

Until she gave a brief nod and turned to walk back to the dorms, back to her books and her shared room.

"You shouldn't get too cocky," he yelled from somewhere behind her then.

She didn't bother turning round. "You shouldn't pick fights with girls."

Emma shrugged as she moved. "Guess we've both got a bunch of stuff to learn."

And she walked away.

Coming back to the present, Emma glanced over at Regina trying to work out what she was thinking, how much she'd taken in.

But she was sat there across the ornate desk in her office, unmoving and unreadable for once. Like a statue.

In a room filled with a new kind of silence.

A silence that seemed to lie heavy on Emma's skin.

With a slight blush, checking her watch, Emma found herself swallowing uncomfortably, "Sorry, that story was a bit longer than I planned. I have a tendency to ramble when I get started on things from the past."

She attempted a laugh.

And for whatever reason that sound seemed to get through to the mayor. Her lips tilted upwards slightly as she suddenly locked eyes with Emma. "It's not a problem Miss Swan."

She paused and said quietly, "You've never told anyone that before, have you?"

Emma shook her head self-consciously, unsure if she should tell the truth.

"Thank you." Regina said then in almost a whisper and the Saviour shivered a little at the obvious sincerity behind the word, her mind a whirl of confusion.

This wasn't how she had seen today going. At all.

And if she was being truthful, she didn't really want it to end. But she knew she should stop. Stop before she came out with something not quite so uplifting from her past. Something she couldn't take back.

Pulling herself up from her chair, Emma cleared her throat. "Well I don't want to keep you from your work. Everything on the graffiti is in my report there so I should..."

Regina stood up ridiculously fast, "Actually I was just about to take a break and get some lunch from Granny's."

"Oh right."

Brown eyes locked onto green. "Would you..." She paused.

"You're welcome to join me. If you want."

Emma smiled at that. "Sure. I could eat."

The two women headed out then, across the plush rug that covered half the office.

"No pasties though."

Emma rolled her eyes at the comment. "Fine."

"And there has to be a salad or some kind of vegetable in there too."

"Whatever you say, Madame Mayor."

The door closed softly behind them.