Title: (Just Like) Starting Over
Rating: T for language, might be bumped later for language and/or sexiness
Disclaimer: I have no rights to any persons real or imagined, no television shows, no books, basically nothing. You want to sue me the best thing I have is a bed, but try to take that and I'll cut a bitch, it's super comfy.
Summary: AU Remma, Regina/Emma, SwanQueen, whatever you want to call it. Regina is a high society HBIC, Emma is a street-smart cop. This is what happens when I watch Once Upon a Time then go to sleep listening to Uptown Girl.
Word Count: This chapter: 730; Total: 730
Notes: I can't get the idea of Remma out of my head, you will all be subjected to more of it. And frequently.
Checking in at the hostess stand she was directed back to a private room of the restaurant. In a classy place like this it was probably called the maître d', not the hostess. But with how she grew up, Emma was lucky to be walking in to a place like this. Even if she was wearing a uniform.
Straightening the selfsame uniform, Emma quickly surveyed the scene. A sweaty, panicky member of the wait staff stood hovering nervously between the other two occupants of the room. Closer to the door was a man with dark hair. He was sharply dressed and glared at a woman across the room, as he held a reddening cloth to one thigh. The woman he was glaring at was staring back at him; not angry so much as bored, and with a disdain that should be reserved for royalty.
The man's swarthy skin was a distinct contrast to the woman's alabaster skin. A good deal of that pale skin was revealed by the deep, plum of the tight dress which was draped fashionably around her. Both parties had dark hair, but the woman's caught the light and it highlighted deep, jewel tones in the dark strands.
It was the nervous employee that noticed Emma first. "You're here, finally!" Not that Emma was sure why she was here. It looked straight forward, but then again, this was the favorite restaurant of the higher ups like Captains Wolfe, Shepherd, and King. Something that could be handled in-house needed to be assured, so that nothing interfered with the brass' dinner plans.
"You need to arrest that fuckin' bitch! She stabbed me!" The dark man, Italian by his accent, started as soon as he saw Emma. And just as quickly he petered off when she pinned him with a sharp stare. Emma could read people, and the over the top outburst seemed scripted. Even more telling was the fact that the woman hadn't yet defended herself or made another attack, physical or verbal. Instead Emma could feel her eyes on the back of her neck; that feeling wasn't easy to ignore but she did her best.
Her gift of reading people told Emma just how to play this. "I think maybe I should be arresting you. I know your type. A hot-shot business-man and playboy? Try to grope your way up the ladder, hmm? That all depends on if she wants to press charges." From the start Emma knew she'd hit the nail on the head; the healthy tan drained from his skin and he fidgeted under her unyielding gaze.
"That won't be necessary, officer." That voice was silk, but there was no mistaking the hard steel of a dagger point just below a mask of civility.
Out of the corner of her eye Emma saw the woman slink across the room with all the grace of a hunting cat, and just as dangerous. "Next time you try something like that, it will be more than a tiny prick." Dark eyes darted, making the statement even more loaded. The fierce glee in those dark orbs was intimidating, even to Emma who wasn't the target. "But you won't work in this town again; I'll make sure of it."
As the maître d' escorted the man out, Emma nonchalantly said, "That wasn't very smart, you know; making threats in front of a police officer. That could get you in to trouble."
With the full force of those dark eyes turned on her, Emma felt a surge of pride in not backing down. She almost wanted to, but she wasn't about to lose the game of dominance. "And what are you going to do, arrest me?" The dark gaze flicked to the name tag and back up to meet Emma's. "Officer Swan."
The emphasis on her name made the hairs on the back of Emma's neck stand at attention. It was every bit as dangerous as the threats so easily given not five minutes before, but much more intense. "Not tonight," was her only reply before heading towards the door. "Have a nice night, ma'am."
"Regina, Regina Mills." The extreme change from the threats and challenges made Emma turn back once more. There was still the silk but this time it was gentler and cool, with no hint of hidden steel.
Emma just smiled and repeated herself. "Have a nice night, Regina."