A/N: This was inspired by the prompt for the second day of the third OQ week on tumblr. Once the idea was in my head, I had to write it. I'm tempted to turn it into a multi-chapter some time in the future, but I'm not sure if I will. I would appreciate it if you could tell me your opinion about this story! I want to thank Bela for being an amazing beta and Franzi for always being excited to read my stories first and letting me know what she thinks about them.
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Regina can't stop thinking about the most recent changes Emma Swan's arrival in Storybrooke has caused. Time hasn't been frozen for a while now, and people's minds seem to be quite clear compared to the haze they were under before the Savior decided to force her stay in town. They still have no idea who they really are, but people have started contemplating about their lives, having their own opinions and feelings, and actually trying to pursue their happiness.
Happiness. The one thing Regina has always wanted and someone was taking it away from her, again. Tears form in her eyes as she gets into her car, but she won't let anyone see her cry. Crying is only for those moments late at night, when Henry is asleep, and can't hear her soul breaking in the next room. So, now she just waits for the unshed tears to dry, and drives away.
Henry will be in therapy for the next hour, and she's heading home before going back to Archie's office to pick him up. During the short drive to her mansion, she can't help but wonder how some of the citizens have come up with a high school reunion.
A high school reunion.
In Storybrooke.
Regina has been in this town for twenty eight years, and she's pretty sure no one even knew what a high school reunion was until Emma Swan began affecting them. But now they've planned the whole thing, and with Regina's luck, she's supposed to have been a member of the class that is throwing the party. A list was sent to her office a week ago and her name was there, along with several other names of citizens who were supposed to have been in the same class.
Her first thought was that she had no intention of spending a long night with people she was certain she would despise. She would prefer staying home, so she could spend time with her son and make sure he didn't sneak out again. But everyone would talk if she didn't go, and being the Mayor, she had to keep the appearances. Plus, Henry wouldn't have a new reason to suspect her. She has no other choice; she has to attend this tacky fest.
Without realizing it, she's already standing by the doorstep of her mansion, and rummaging through her purse for her keys.
"That's just great," she mumbles and tries to think of where she might have left them. She told Ernie, her secretary, to lock up the office when she left. Did Regina take her keys with her? Of course Regina herself might have dropped them on her way out of the office, or somewhere around the market, or maybe when she took Henry to his therapy session. Regina sighs, she has no time for this. She has to start making dinner soon. She decides to call the locksmith.
About ten minutes later, the man whose job is to pick locks without it being considered illegal arrives. Regina doesn't recognize him from Storybrooke, but his face seems oddly familiar from the Enchanted Forest. She's certain they haven't crossed paths before; but she can't shake the feeling that she has seen him somewhere.
"You've got a problem with the lock, m'lady?" he asks, a strange glint in his eyes as he looks into hers.
"Isn't that obvious?" Regina remarks in her usual cold tone, the one she uses with everyone but Henry.
He smirks and she glares at him. "Just open the damn door." She says, gritting her teeth.
"As you wish, your Majesty."
His words are followed by a tiny bow of his head.
Regina is too surprised to say anything. No one in Storybrooke had ever called her by anything related to her queen persona, except for her own son. That thought brings her pain, an emotion much greater than her surprise, and even though deep down, she knows that the locksmith wasn't serious, and he can't possibly recognize her, she doesn't dismiss the possibility that he might be aware of the truth. She braces herself for any outcome this might have, while she watches him work.
He manages to open the door and change the lock in less than ten minutes, and that pleases her.
He steps aside and grins smugly.
Just who does he think he is? He obviously knows who she is, but why isn't he treating her with hesitation like the rest of the citizens?
Without being able to stop herself, she asks "Who are you?"
"Brighton Locksley. At your service," he says as he brings his hand towards her, to hand her the keys of the new lock.
Locksley… The thief. The words almost leave Regina before she stops them by biting her lower lip. "And you're a locksmith." She says instead and lets him drop the keys into her hand. A locksmith who once was Robin Hood, the man whose face appeared on 'wanted' posters right beside Snow White's.
"And you're the mayor." He states matter-of-factly.
"That I am," she replies coldly. "What do I owe you?"
"Actually, I was thinking…" he begins, appearing skeptical.
"Yes?" Regina asks impatiently. Her time is running out. She has to pick up Henry in thirty five minutes and at this rate, there's no way she'll have dinner ready by then.
"I saw your name on the list of guests for the reunion. I was wondering if you were going."
So, the thief thinks he remembers her from high school. Now he probably also thinks she doesn't remember him and he's obviously not surprised. Good.
"I have to, don't I?" she retorts, looking at her watch to emphasize the fact that he's wasting her time. He doesn't seem to take the hint though. A smirk is pasted on his face and his gaze is intense.
"Are you going alone?" he asks and Regina's eyes widen.
She recovers quickly and tries to hide her surprise.
"You think you can convince me to go with you?" She asks incredulously.
"Well, I'm certainly going to try," is his immediate response which has her fuming inside.
"I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. It's not going to happen," she says in an indifferent tone.
"Perhaps I can try some more."
Regina thinks the thief is insufferable. And daring. Too daring.
"I don't need an escort," she says, trying to hold on to the last remnants of her patience.
"I have a feeling you don't really want to go. And while I do enjoy the company of some people I've known for a long time who will also attend, my two best friends are trying to make me go out with some ludicrous women. I can escape from those women –and my friends' nagging– and you can be with me all night, avoiding everyone."
She has no idea why she has let him talk that much. The minutes are passing by, and she still hasn't gotten past the door of her house.
"And why would I want to be with you all night long?"
"Because, m'lady–"
"It's Madam Mayor."
"Because, Madam Mayor, it will be easier for you to avoid our past classmates if you aren't alone. Just think about it."
He winks at her, gathers his tools and starts walking away.
"You didn't get your payment," Regina yells after him.
"I don't need to. I just need you to come to the reunion with me," he yells after her and disappears in his truck.
Regina stays dumbfounded at her doorstep for a few moments. Not only has she lost her chance to prepare a proper meal for Henry and herself, but she's also had that annoying outlaw being so comfortable around her as if they really had been classmates or even friends. The way he was bold and practically asked her out unsettles her. It's terribly unusual for someone to approach her for something like that.
She thinks of Graham and how she was the one controlling his desire towards her. She thinks of Sydney and how her mirror still serves as only that, her mirror, to her, but to him she's always an unattainable dream. Sydney has never again asked her for something more though, not since he was trapped inside a mirror back in the Enchanted Forest. He looks and looks, eats her with his eyes and it makes her very uncomfortable, but he never asks for more, and does everything she asks.
Brighton is the very first to ask her out, and after the initial shock, after she finally enters her house, only to get out a minute later in order to buy some take-out food before it's time to pick up Henry, she has to admit that it doesn't feel as strange as it did initially. She surely won't let it show to him or anyone, but even if he did it only to get something out of it as well, she can't forget how intensely his gaze was directed at her.
Unless he has an ulterior motive. Maybe he knows more than he has let on and he's working for someone or with someone to destroy her. Maybe he's even working for the Savior. Or maybe he wants to destroy her for himself. She doesn't remember harming him directly in the Enchanted Forest, but there's a possibility that she might have done something to one of his people.
She dismisses the thought as she gets into her car. Whatever he's planning to do with her, he isn't going to succeed. He's gone now, and she has no intention of calling him and admitting that she would actually prefer spending an evening sitting by a thief than having all their other 'old classmates' pestering her for gossip about her life.
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After the curious meeting with the mayor, Brighton drives to Granny's diner. He was actually on his way there, to get some dinner for his son and himself, when he got the phone call for the job.
As he parks his truck, he thinks about his conversation with the phenomenal woman that is the mayor. He doesn't believe she's noticed him –she hadn't noticed him at school either– but he has noticed her. He has noticed her immense beauty, and he's had quite a lot of fantasies that included her luscious lips and her gorgeous body.
His heart is still beating fast in his chest because of their encounter. When he saw her name on the list, he thought he would finally be given a chance to talk to her at the reunion, but he hadn't imagined she would need his services and he would actually ask her out. Brighton Locksley has never been shy or hesitant around women. His playful and confident behavior around the mayor was very much genuine. But no other woman has ever had that effect on him before. He doesn't remember if there was a time when his heartbeat increased that much only with a brief conversation and a few looks. He had been so anxious about her reaction; he felt like a nervous love-struck teenager.
Ruby hands him a bag with a saucy smile on her face and, turning towards the door, he decides to stop thinking about what happened. Madam Mayor is not going to change her mind anyway. The only thing he had managed to do was making a fool of himself.
He pulls the door at the same moment someone else pushes it from outside. He almost loses his balance and his arms instinctively reach for the other person to steady not only him, but them as well.
After a few seconds, he realizes that he's face to face with her. One of his hands is circling her arm and the other, that holds the bag of food, is touching her other arm, his thumb digging into the sleeve of her thin coat. She looks as dumbfounded as he feels. A moment later, she shrugs out of his touch, and takes one more step inside, keeping her distance, but not standing too far away from him either.
The beating of his heart increases again, but he finds his voice before she does.
"Are you following me?" he asks.
His only intent was to tease her, but the death glare she gives him makes him wonder if she thought he was actually questioning her.
"How dare you?" she snarls and he can see the vein on her forehead clearly now. She looks like a lioness ready to fight and she has never looked sexier.
He flashes her a grin, and doesn't regret it, even when she groans, and rolls her eyes at him. He likes her, oh how he likes her.
"Apologies, m'lady," he says sincerely, the grin still on his face.
"Just make sure it never happens again. I don't have any more time to waste having pointless conversations with a–" She pauses for a moment and Robin narrows his eyes, trying to figure out what she was going to say. "A locksmith," she completes.
Robin sighs. "You're right. I have to go as well," he tells her, pointing to the bag of food.
"That looks like an awfully big amount of food for just one person." She eyes him curiously, but her tone is indifferent.
"It's not just for me. My son is waiting at home and it would be rude not to offer food to the baby sitter…"
"You have a son?" she asks, evidently surprised.
"Indeed I do. A tiny lad, not even half as old as yours," Brighton replies, his voice overflowing with affection for his little boy.
Regina's expression softens and her eyes don't hold her usual icy stare anymore.
"Go to your son then," she tells him quietly.
Brighton nods. "Goodnight, Madam Mayor."
The title sounds too formal on his lips, but the way he called her before obviously upset her, and he's not going to ruin her night by calling her something else when he knows she doesn't appreciate it.
"Goodnight," she replies, her mask of indifference slipping back on her face. Her expression is unreadable before she straightens her back and turns towards the counter.
Brighton expected her to not remember him from high school and the fact that she didn't respond positively to his proposal wasn't that surprising to him at all. But he's certain he just saw something in her that hasn't been noticed by anyone else. She's still going to the reunion, so he doesn't have anything to lose if he gives it another try. That's what he's going to do.
He eats dinner with his son and reads him his bed time story, but the mayor never leaves his mind. He feels guilty for thinking about her while he's with his son. It's not like his thoughts are inappropriate though, at least not until the boy is soundly asleep and Brighton lies on his own bed at night. He might have liked her before, but now that he's been so close to her, the attraction he feels is almost overwhelming. He's drawn to her like a moth to a flame, and he's going to get her even if those glares of hers end up being the death of him.
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Regina sits in the living room in the lone company of her usual glass of wine before bed. The memories of the evening are not letting her calm down. This is all the Savior's fault, her mind tells her. Because of her, everyone has begun behaving differently than before, with more initiative and passion. Because of her, this unsettling feeling doesn't leave her, no matter how hard she tries. And worst of all, because of her, Henry can't see how much the mom who actually raised him really loves him.
Maybe if she had a distraction she wouldn't feel so tense all the time. Maybe if Graham was still here…
Sleep doesn't come to her until the early hours of the day.
She's running. Her surroundings look like the forest of Storybrooke, but her outfit is one of a bandit from the Enchanted Forest, similar to Snow White's when she was running from her. A bow and a bag of arrows hang from each of her shoulders, as she makes her way through the trees like she knows exactly where she's going.
She feels a tingling sensation on every inch of her body and she recognizes it immediately as magic. A wonderful sensation that has her yearning to use it in some way, in any way. It's been too long.
She reaches her destination; her vault. Before she's able to go inside, a dark figure appears from behind the trees. It's Graham.
He approaches her with a wicked grin on his face and she takes a few steps back, calling her magic desperately, but not getting any response. Anger, she reminds herself, your power comes from anger. But she is not the Evil Queen –she has no idea who she is– and anger doesn't work.
Graham walks towards her menacingly, and his face begins to change. Regina expects to come face to face with a wolf, but in the next moment, the thief stands in front of her instead. He wears that annoying smirk and when he is at an arm's length, Regina doesn't hesitate, and putting her hand inside his chest, she closes her fingers around his heart.
It looks like her magic isn't failing her after all. The feel of the pulsating organ in her hand is powerful, vital. The thief is obviously in pain and he groans when she pulls back with force and takes his heart out. She examines it in the moonlight; it's not all red. Short asymmetrical black stripes can be seen; not many, but still, they exist.
A devilish grin forms on her lips, and when she's about to crush the offending organ and get rid of its owner once and for all, he lunches forward and has his lips crashing against hers hard.
Regina jolts awake.
Her thoughts are a blur and she lies back on the mattress, rubbing her eyes so she can open them in the blinding sunlight. She panics when she realizes that it's probably mid-morning, and sits up abruptly, wondering how she didn't hear the alarm. She calms down once she remembers it's Saturday.
It's also the day of the reunion. She groans, lying back on the bed and reaching for her cellphone on the nightstand. A plan has already been formed inside her head.
She's about to create a new text message when she receives one. She frowns and wonders who it might be, because no one ever sends her text messages, unless they are about town management issues and it's impossible for such messages to be sent on the weekend. Full of curiosity, she looks at the name on the screen. Locksmith. She rolls her eyes. She can't believe the insolence of this man.
"Good morning, Madam Mayor."
She didn't count on having this opportunity so soon.
"Be here at 7 pm, locksmith," she texts back.
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Brighton approaches the mayor's mansion with his truck. He has a feeling she's not going to want to get inside his vehicle, but he's proud of the truck he's managed to buy with what he's earned from his work.
He's knocking on the door at 18:57. His palms are sweaty and his stomach feels like it's in one big, tight knot, despite the confident look he knows he'll be pulling off for the rest of the night.
He's thought of bringing some flowers for the mayor, but this isn't a real date, it's an agreement, so he's come empty handed. Part of him knows that she'll appreciate that he didn't try to make this more than what it truly is, but another part of him regrets it when she opens the door.
She's stunning. No flowers in the world would make her beauty justice, and he momentarily loses his words, opening and closing his mouth and licking his lips that are suddenly dry.
"Good evening," she greets him in a formal tone.
"Good evening, Madam Mayor. You look amazing," he tells her and he's pretty sure he sees a light blush on her cheeks. It goes with her red lips and makes her look exquisite. Her short sleeved dress, red as well, caresses all the curves of her body, reaching her legs right above her knees and shows just the right amount of cleavage.
Robin realizes he's been staring when his eyes go up to her face again and he notices her pleased expression, one that he's never seen her wear.
She gives him a thorough look up and down as well before saying "I suppose you can start calling me Regina."
His expression becomes hopeful quickly and she adds "At least for tonight. If we want people to think we're on a date, we have to avoid the formalities."
"Of course. You look amazing, Regina," he repeats his earlier statement with a warm smile and more confidence than before.
She thanks him coolly, not returning his smile, and grabbing her purse, she closes the door behind her.
"Shall we go?" she asks impatiently, yet he can hear the reluctance in her voice.
"Wait, does this mean that you'll call me by my name as well?" he asks, half serious, half teasing her.
"Don't get used to it," is her response.
He starts to walk and she follows him for a few seconds, until she understands where he's heading to.
"You can't be serious! There is no way I'm ever getting inside that thing, let alone drive to a semi-formal high school reunion within it," she says incredulously before circling the front of her car, opening the door of the driver's seat and settling in it.
That was actually the reaction Brighton was expecting. So his smirk doesn't leave his lips when he enters her car and sits in the passenger's seat. He glances at her and she looks furious. Their evening has barely started and he's already managed to piss her off. He doesn't exactly regret it; for some reason he likes pushing her buttons. But they're doing this for other reasons, and he can tell that she's wishing she wasn't there right now, so he decides to focus on making the event at least bearable for her.
The ride to the town's ballroom is mostly silent, and a bit awkward. Brighton isn't used to tense silences, and he tries to think of something to open a conversation with, something that won't make her glare at him, but nothing sounds good enough in his head. In the end, he settles with asking her how her son liked the dinner from Granny's last night. Instead of her face softening like he expected it to, she cringes and dismisses his question with a simple "fine". Brighton keeps is eyes on the road for the rest of the short drive.
They get out of the car, and start heading towards the building when Regina stops abruptly making Brighton almost bumps into her. She turns around to face him and he raises his eyebrows questioningly.
"No touching unless I'm the one who initiates it, no teasing of any kind and if possible, no talking."
Brighton nods, trying to suppress a grin. Her tone is menacing and he does take her seriously, but he has to admit that he finds her cute and at the same time, so incredibly powerful. That's a hell of a combination, and it drives him crazy with desire for her.
"And don't get in my way," she adds.
"I wouldn't dream of it," he replies with another nod.
When they enter the ballroom, it's already full of cheerful people. Brighton recognizes most of them and he's about to ask Regina if she wants to go mingle now or later, but he feels her stiffening beside him. When he turns to look at her, she's gone pale, and a look he can't read covers her face.
"Are you okay?" he asks and he almost touches her wrist, but remembers her rules and stops himself.
She turns towards him and a few seconds pass before her eyes focus on his own. She replies with a tight "I'm fine".
He asks her if she's sure, but she doesn't hear him, as she's already halfway to the open bar. She takes a glass of wine and washes it down in a few big gulps.
Brighton's eyes widen. She's obviously in distress, and it's not a mood anyone has ever seen her in before. This time he can't stop his hand from reaching for her arm.
She flinches under his touch, but seems to calm down a little when she looks over her shoulder and realizes it's him.
"What's wrong?" he asks softly.
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Regina's attempt to take a deep breath fails because of her neck's awkward angle. A strangled gasp leaves her and she feels embarrassed a few seconds later, when she turns her whole body towards Robin –Brighton– and finally gets her bearings. Her chest rises up and down by short breaths and she suddenly feels hot. Brighton's hand has slipped from her shoulder and for the first time in decades, she finds herself craving the physical comfort of another human being who isn't her son.
Brighton's concerned look makes things worse. She can't have that. She can't have a stranger starting to care about her when Regina herself doesn't. She wants to run and hide. She knows it's not really her, the headstrong and powerful mayor, who's feeling this way; it's her former self, the young and innocent girl whose dreams died too soon, the broken queen who spent years trapped in a life she never asked for, never wanted.
She's aware of many looks directed at her and she can't turn to face them, so she keeps staring at Brighton instead. The room around her is as loud as when they entered long ago –or has it only been a few minutes? The people are too many and too happy, and she can still feel the sting of loneliness and despair every time the King ignored her in favor of his beloved daughter during the stupid balls. The weight of the jewelry and the tiara she had to wear, the tightness of the corset and the disapproving looks of her mother back when she made her little rebellion and decided not to wear the special outfit designed exclusively for her sixteenth birthday. She had imagined that her mother would be mad at her, but she hadn't known what was coming. Cora left her alone that night, but when the following morning came, she used magic to tie the corset even tighter around her daughter's body and made her wear it all day. She made her ride, have her usual regal lessons, eat every meal and spend her tea time, feeling her upper body practically being suffocated, all that suffering by her own mother's hands. Regina had felt the bruises for weeks, and since then, the effects of every ball she attended might not have harmed her physically, but brought pain to her mind in more ways than one.
That's the main reason why she has never attempted to organize such a celebration in Storybrooke. She loves going to the school's events, because they make Henry so happy and she's so proud of him, but the children are the protagonists there, not the adults. Besides, she's learned that she actually gets a satisfying feeling from seeing the little ones smile. Apart from those events, there hasn't been any other and the emotions that had been buried for so long are now on the surface. She's not sure she can handle them.
She hears a voice calling her name, but it sounds like it's coming from far away. The volume increases and she can see that it's coming from Brighton. It must be the third time he calls her, when her brain registers that his lips are moving to form her name. She realizes that her eyes feel sandy and her throat is dry. As if he can read her thoughts, Brighton takes a step to her right to fill up a glass of water, and that results in her losing him momentarily from her sight. A new inexplicable panic rises within her, and she turns around abruptly to face him again. He hands her the glass and she gulps down the water. Regina is aware that her manner is not ladylike and that no one has ever seen her behave like this before. He takes the glass from her hand and sets it on the table behind him. Her eyes have begun to stick and she blinks quickly a few times.
"How long has it been since I've made a spectacle of myself?" she asks in a hoarse voice. It's a good thing the music doesn't let the curious faces around them hear her; she's fortunate that no one has dared to approach her except for the thief.
"Only a few minutes," is Brighton's response and she cringes.
She's mad at her mother for making her hate every formal celebration that much, she's mad at the King and his spoiled daughter for not giving her a reason to feel comfortable at the royal balls, and she's mad at herself for still allowing those memories to haunt her.
"Don't worry about it too much. They'll probably forget everything after a few drinks," Brighton adds in a warm tone which, to her surprise, doesn't feel patronizing.
"I sure hope so," she says, having recovered some of her icy tone. She straightens her back, her body going back to her usual posture.
Brighton looks like he wants to say something, but he stops himself. His mouth opens and closes a couple of times and that has her frowning. She wonders if he's changed his mind and doesn't want to be her virtual date anymore. She might have been opposed to the idea at first, and she's certain that's the results of her panic attack that make her mind go there, but she's glad she has agreed to do this with him. Looking into his kind eyes has soothed her more than she would like to admit, and she's curious and wants to know why.
He releases a long sigh and gives her a tiny smile.
She doesn't know how to respond. She's not used to any of the citizens being nice to her and the sensation that it gives her is strange.
The music suddenly stops and the lights go out. Regina's eyes widen and she feels surprise mixed with horror, and when she looks around, she realizes that the only light illuminating the room comes from the windows and the old computer someone is using to play the music. She can hear the people continue their chatting, not being bothered by the fact that they can't really see one another anymore. Brighton's hand reaches for her shoulder again and she freezes for a second, before she realizes he's only trying to offer her some comfort. The rules she has set up for the evening are somewhere in the back of her mind, but she can't bring herself to care and just accepts his attempt to soothe her nerves.
It's in moments like these she misses her magic. She feels vulnerable without it; even more so since Emma Swan has arrived in town. She suspects everyone around her and she won't be surprised if she wakes up one day with the whole town wanting her death. She's pretty sure most of them already want that anyway, fake memories or not.
Lost in her thoughts, she doesn't expect the music to start again and, when it does, it makes her jump. She turns away from Brighton, and faces the ballroom. His hand slips to her back and stays there. The lights are back on and she had never thought she would have to witness something like this.
About half of the people are dancing to Michael Jackson's "Thriller" in the middle of the ballroom.
Regina loves eighties' music; along with some movies that she believes are called "chick flicks", this particular kind of music is her guilty pleasure. Until the moment a certain blonde arrived in Storybrooke, the only music someone could find in town was dated until the beginning of the eighties. Now, however, some 'modern hits' have appeared, they give Regina headaches. She's surprised that they haven't played any of the new music yet, but she guesses they're too caught up on their fake memories and they only want something that reminds them of the years they think they've spent together in high school.
Regina might love eighties' music, but what those people on the dancefloor are doing seems silly to her. They're adults and this is supposed to be a serious event. They are acting with more immaturity than the kids during the school's celebrations.
She briefly wonders what Brighton's opinion about the cheap theme party that is still unfolding in front of them is. She turns to look at him and she's pleased to see that he seems to be enjoying this even less than she is. Their eyes meet and she raises a questioning brow.
"I'm not that fond of this song, and especially not of this dance, particularly after what happened to me back then," he explains and for the first time since she's met him, she notices an expression of discomfort on his face.
"Oh. I don't remember…" Regina begins, because of course she doesn't remember, and she knows he won't be surprised by that. A little disappointed maybe, but not really surprised.
"You wouldn't. It was in that girl's party" –he points to a grown woman in the front of the line dance– "and you weren't there."
His words sting unexpectedly. She likes it that no one seems to dare and approach her to try to befriend her, but even in this fake world the curse has created, she's not loved by anyone, like she hasn't been loved for most of her life.
She nods, encouraging him to continue.
"We were at the party and there was that other girl I liked. We played truth or dare. The girl, Alyssa, a married woman now with a family, couldn't stop laughing along with her friends when I, in order not to lose, humiliated myself, dancing to this song in my underwear," he says, looking a little sheepish as he finishes.
Something tugs at Regina's heart. She's not sure what it is; she doesn't think she's felt something like that in a very long time, maybe ever. Could it be compassion? The reason he doesn't like the song is kind of silly, like the song itself, and she can't hold back the giggle that comes out her mouth. The song finally changes and people start dancing to the next eighties' pop hit, while Robin looks hurt and she's laughing hysterically.
"Thank you for laughing about my misery, Madam Mayor," he says and the edges of his lips twitch upwards.
Seconds later he gives into an uncontrollable laughter and soon, people around them start laughing as well, the action contagious and cleansing. It's an alien experience for Regina and once she's managed to stop, she feels tears in her eyes and her stomach hurts. Is it supposed to be this way?
Brighton is looking at her like he's seeing her for the first time. She averts her gaze and feels a new kind of tension radiating from him. She expects him to do something about it, but he suggests getting something to eat instead.
"You don't like those dances either, do you?" he asks as they're sat at a round table with plates full of food.
"Not really," she replies, eyeing some chicken nuggets suspiciously.
"So, what kind of music do you like?"
She looks at him skeptically and she proceeds to tell him some of the preferences, the least embarrassing ones. It turns out that their taste in music isn't all that different, although he's quite fond of some country tunes that she doesn't care much for.
They eat quietly for a few minutes, before anyone else sits around their table. Regina doesn't recognize any of them. It's funny, because she did recognize their names on the list from having seen them in the city records. Maybe it's not that funny. Maybe it's just sad.
A woman sitting next to Brighton asks him how Bradley is.
"He's well, great actually. He was really chatty today; he almost didn't let me leave the house," he answers in the affectionate tone Regina heard from him once before.
She leans towards him to whisper "Is Bradley your son?"
He nods with a warm smile and a part of her wonders what the little boy's real name is. Another part of her dismisses the question, because she's probably never going to meet him anyway.
"He's quite fascinated by you, you know," Brighton whispers to her.
Regina looks at him in confusion. "Why?"
"He was very sad when the playground was demolished. But then, you had a new one constructed so quickly, it made him and many other kids quite excited. They say that it's much better than the old one."
Regina looks at him surprised. The new playground had been a serious issue at a town meeting a couple of months ago, but her memories of Henry accusing her of being evil and not caring about him that day still hurt. She did not think that some of the younger kids would actually appreciate her idea of a new place for them to play.
She doesn't know how to respond to that, so she smiles one of those formal smiles that don't reach her eyes.
A lot of people talk to Brighton. It turns out that he knows all of the people sitting with them. Others stop by to greet him or give him a pat on the shoulder. He greets a few people himself, nodding and smiling to them from afar. Regina watches him feeling seemingly comfortable with any kind of social interaction, something she has never felt unless it's been about business. Tonight she's gotten her wish granted; no one has talked to her and no one has attempted to get even closer to her. Everyone has kept their distance, but now, Regina doesn't know if that's what she really wants anymore. She feels as lonely as ever, even though she's supposed to be here with Brighton, who's sitting right next to her. But he's leaning towards a couple across the table and she has no idea what they're talking about. She doesn't care, really. She just doesn't like to be ignored.
She turns away from the thief, trying to distract herself with something else, when she feels him tuck her hair gently behind her ear and she freezes. The next moment she can feel his breath on the shell of her ear.
"May I have this dance?" he whispers and only now does she realize that the music has changed to a slower tune. She listens carefully for a few seconds and recognizes the song. It's "Lady in red" and she was actually listening to it while getting ready for this event. It's one of the songs that have made their appearance after Miss Swan's arrival. It's from the mid-eighties though and she loves it.
Brighton is looking at her with hope in his eyes and she nods. "You may."
It's time for the first part of her plan.
He takes her hand and together they walk to the middle of the dancefloor where some couples are already dancing.
His arms circle her waist and he pulls her to him. She places her own arms tentatively on his shoulders and they start swaying to the soft music. She examines his face and realizes how handsome he looks tonight. The light blue shirt he's wearing brings out his eyes and she wonders if that's why his gaze seems to be so captivating. She silently admires his well-built body, the taut muscles under her hands and his hard stomach pressed against hers as he holds her close.
Oh, she's missed that. She's missed having an attractive man all to herself, making her feel sexy and distracting her from the whirlwind that is her mind. That's why she has to go through with her plan.
Her right hand slides along his chest and stops where his heart should be.
After her dream, it dawned on her that the thief's heart could very well be in her possession. She has a vault full of human hearts, similar to the one her mother used to have, one she once looked at with fear. During her reign in the Enchanted Forest, she ripped out so many hearts that she's had lost count. She doesn't even know who those hearts in her vault belong to. She had to find out if Brighton's heart is still inside his chest. Most people can't understand the difference, but she can.
And now she knows that it's still there and it's beating fast. Faster than what is considered to be normal, faster than… No, it doesn't beat faster than hers. In fact, she can feel her own heart beating in a crazy rhythm, matching his.
They've stopped moving. They're now just standing there while their eyes remain locked with one another and she can't look away. She feels his hand cover hers on top of his heart and his fingers are warm against hers. "This song is for you," he says quietly, only for her to hear. A combination of emotions floods her and she has no idea where they came from. She only knows that she feels like she's drowning. This isn't the fake situation she has agreed to. This is real. And she can't have it.
The song ends and the magic should disappear. But it doesn't. It's there in his eyes, in his palm resting on the small of her back, and she can't have that. She slowly disentangles herself from him and pulls away.
:::::
Another slow song has started, but she's already gone. She's back to the bar, filling a glass with wine.
Brighton had in no way planned what had just happened. He could sense how tense she had been since the moment they entered the ballroom, and he asked her to dance only to try to make her relax a little. He thought he had succeeded, but then she was touching his heart and gazing into his eyes, creating a moment, a strangely intimate moment, and he mentally kicks himself for having thought about her as his actual date, because that's not what they've come here for tonight. He realizes he went a little over the edge, touching her more intimately than he should have, breaking every single one of her rules.
He looks at her and she's holding her head high, drinking her wine elegantly, and showing nothing of the panicked woman he saw earlier tonight. Her mask is back on, and he mentally kicks himself for being the one to have caused this.
He decides to leave her alone for now, to give her some space. She looks like she needs it.
He begins walking towards some of his friends and he's half way there when he notices two women approach Regina. They're talking to her and she looks surprised at first, but quickly regains her usual cold facial expression, and begins talking as well. Brighton stops walking and keeps on observing them. The women are obviously asking her things she's not comfortable talking about in public, and that was exactly what she wanted to avoid. Her replies seem to be short, but the women don't stop, and he has a feeling that if he was closer her eyes would betray her utter discomfort. From the little he's seen of her today, he can tell she feels lost and vulnerable in crowded celebrations that are not related to work, like this one. He doesn't need to know the reasons why, for now; but something makes him want to help her.
He is beside her in a few long steps, and he's pretty sure he sees annoyance mixed with a hint of fear on her face once she notices him.
"Ladies," he greets them, "are you having a good time?"
"We were just asking Madam Mayor how her son is doing now that he practically has two moms," one of the women, Stacey, tells him, looking perfectly oblivious to the fact that this is an inappropriate discussion for two strangers to be having with one of those moms.
He cannot believe this. Just thinking about Bradley preferring to spend time with someone else instead of him hurts. He can't even imagine what Regina must have been feeling all this time. Most people don't really know what's going on between Emma Swan and Regina Mills, but there have been several rumors that their situation is not pretty at all. But that doesn't give these women, or anybody, the right to dig for information like that.
"Well, don't you think that this serious matter isn't fit for an occasion like this?" he tries to reason with them and hopes it's not the wrong thing to say.
Apparently it is, because the next thing he knows is that the other woman, Nicole, is asking them if they're together.
"We've come here together, yes," Regina replies simply, but not in a way to satisfy the two women, although Brighton knows she has understood the question quite well. "And why that is, is none of your business," she adds and he feels strangely proud of her.
Nicole's eyes diverge to Regina's left and whatever she sees causes a smirk to form on her lips. She's about to say something again when a voice from the speakers prevents her from making the situation even more awkward.
"And now, the moment we've all been waiting for! The famous Storybrooke high school cake!" a heavy man with a moustache says excitedly and the two women join the crowd's loud cheers. Brighton doesn't think he remembers the man, and it dawns on him that apart from Regina and the people who sat at their table he hasn't really interacted with other acquaintances, not even his friends. This night has been about Regina and even if she doesn't want to make it so, he knows that this feels like a date to her as well. Maybe that was why she ran. Maybe that's what she's trying to avoid, which isn't completely unreasonable given the fact the she's the mayor of this town and he's just a locksmith.
He doesn't regret the attention he's given her tonight though. His sole purpose was to help her have a decent time and he knows he's failed miserably, but at least he saved her from a heart wrenching conversation about the sensitive subject surrounding her son and Emma Swan.
He glances at her, expecting to see her disgusted about their high school's old tradition, and what he actually sees is that she's even more irritated than before. Only then does he realize that his arm is circling her waist. Judging from Nicole's expression a minute earlier, it doesn't take a lot of effort to guess that that's what she saw and made her smirk, and that's also why Regina is almost throwing fire at him with her glare.
She had taken her coat off before they began to eat, and so, now the only thing separating his hand from her skin is the soft material of her dress. He can feel the warmth of her skin through it, and it's giving him goosebumbs; and awakening his desire for her, Robin wants to feel more of her. Not only of her body, but also her. She has intrigued him, and he can't help but feel like he wants to get to know the woman behind the mayor mask.
He realizes he's been staring at her again –he should really stop doing that– and he retrieves his arm, muttering a quick but sincere apology. It hasn't been easy for him to follow her rules, but he hasn't forgotten them. At least this time she didn't flinch away, he notes and it's not a good time for his thoughts to stir in that direction, because his concern for her is still there and his instinct to comfort her remains strong.
"It's not like you haven't broken any other rules," she says with a sigh and begins walking away.
He stands where she has left him, convinced that since she's gone for the second time tonight, there's no reason for him to chase after her, until she turns to look at him and asks "Aren't you coming?"
He frowns and hesitates, but ends up following her, without even looking back.
She leads him outside and he can't help but admire her hair swishing in the night's air, the way her ass is shaped in that tight dress, her calf muscles showing as she walks on her heels…
"Are you done staring?" her question brings him out of his reverie.
He meets her eyes with a sheepish smile.
"You can't blame a man for appreciating beauty," he answers and she rolls her eyes. A hint of a smirk appears on her face though and she gestures to her car.
"We're leaving. Get in," she says and Brighton does exactly that, wondering what's on her mind.
:::::
Regina drives to her house and notices the thief stealing glances from her when he thinks she isn't looking. She might have been annoyed with him earlier, but now she feels flattered by the attention. She doesn't want any emotional attachment with a man; she doesn't have the time or the psychological heath to engage in something like that. Her problems with her son are enough to make her even more stressed than she ever was even before casting the dark curse, and she doesn't want to deal with someone looking at her like the locksmith did quite a few times tonight. There were some moments when the way he gazed into her eyes reminded her of Daniel. That made her more scared than she'd like to admit.
She hadn't been sure if she was going to proceed with her plan, until she had caught him staring at her behind when she walked away from him in the ballroom. His hungry eyes made her feel sexy, desired. She's pretty sure he didn't even realize that his longing for her was obvious in his eyes, but she did and it made her decide to go through with her initial plan.
She doesn't have his heart in her possession. That won't stop her from trying to seduce him like she did with quite a few men when she was a Queen. It's been a long time, but his apparent desire for her gives a boost to her confidence. She can't have an emotional relationship, but that did not mean that this handsome man could not show her a good time for a few hours.
They get out of her car and she notices that he remains beside the passenger door instead of walking to his own car.
"That was… an interesting night," he says in a serious tone.
She scoffs. "Indeed it was."
She knows he's talking about her behavior, the vulnerability she showed and their closeness during their dance.
"You're not wrong about that," she says as she circles the car, approaching him slowly. Once she's in front of him, she looks through her lashes directly into his eyes. What she sees is something she can't define, and also lust, which is good; it's what she was looking for.
"So…" Thief. Outlaw. Locksmith. The words flow into her mind, because that's who he is to her, that's what she's going to allow him to be. Maybe she should use a different tactic though. "Brighton," she ends up saying in a low voice.
"Regina," he says back, his gaze switching to her lips before returning to her eyes.
Regina brings her hand to his neck, touching his skin softly, feeling him swallow. Her fingers slide down his chest until they reach the first button of his shirt. She teases the button, almost opening it, but leaving it after a moment. His eyes travel to her cleavage –it was about time, she thinks, because he hasn't looked there since they were in the ballroom. She grabs the lapels of his jacket and they're eye to eye again, their faces only inches away, his breath mingling with hers and creating a bubble of warmth in the cool night air. His hands glide slowly along her sides above her coat and his touch sends shivers down her spine.
"What are we doing?" he whispers, his voice almost inaudible, as if he's loath to break the spell.
"What does it look like we're doing? I know you want this, too," Regina says with all the confidence she can master. "We can forget everything and have fun," she whispers, her lips ghosting over his.
"Wait, wait." His hands shoot up to take her fingers and disentangle them gently from the fabric of his jacket. Holding her wrists, he lowers her hands, her face moving slightly away from his in the process.
She examines him for a long moment. The Moon is reflected into his eyes and the want in his gaze is still quite obvious. His tongue peeks out and he wets his lips and she wants nothing more than to grab him again and just kiss him good and proper, not allowing doubt to linger between them.
She doesn't understand what's stopping him. The signs he's been giving her have been clear. She can't be that wrong. Unless…
"What is it?" she asks in a tone that resembles the one Madam Mayor usually prefers.
"I do want this, Regina, believe me. But not like this."
Regina knows what he means. It's what she had been afraid of. It's what will ruin her plan. Her frustration turns into anger, something she's used to feeling lately and it's getting more and more difficult for her to control.
"I don't do romance, locksmith," she says through gritted teeth.
"Have you ever tried?" the thief has the audacity to ask and that makes her even more infuriated.
"It's not your business what I have or have not tried." she tells him, her tone implying that he can't argue with her anymore.
"Regina, you can't deny that you felt something tonight. When we danced, when we were talking…" he tries to reason with her, but she won't let him.
"I felt nothing. Do you understand that? Nothing. You should go now," she tells him and starts backing away from the car, turning towards her house after a couple of steps.
She can hear him release a long sigh.
"Goodnight Madame Mayor."
He sounds disappointed, defeated. His voice matches the expression she saw on his face before turning her back on him.
She chooses not to say anything and enters her house. She stands behind the door, listening carefully. A few moments later she hears the engine of his truck and she knows he's gone.
She pays the baby sitter, shows her out, and takes a quick shower before going to bed. A warm bath usually helps her relax, but a bath would mean time to think and that would mean more panic, more vulnerability, more fears coming to the surface, not only about her son anymore. Now she has a feeling that her thoughts will also revolve around a pair of kind blue eyes and the thief's touch, and that's something she isn't willing to allow.
She lies on her bed and tries to sleep, but sleep won't come and she ends up staring at the dancing shadows some branches form on the ceiling. She feels something she had felt a long time ago, a time before Henry came into her life, something she's been feeling again lately, but tonight it's somehow even stronger. She feels empty.