Here I am, ladies. First Swan Queen fic eva! But this one is also my first co-written fic with , and we couldn't be happier (simply couldn't be happier) to bring you this little gem inspired by Lana's fine ass and a Whitney Houston song. Enjoy!
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As three empty shot glasses hit the bar in succession, Emma drew in a sharp breath through her nose, closing her eyes and finally letting out a victory howl.
"Whooo! That one was all me, bitches!"
How many shots of Jack had that been? Honestly, the Sherriff had lost count. What really mattered at this particular moment was that she'd just won the game – who can down their double-shot the fastest – against her less-than-worthy opponents. Ruby, her Maid of Honor (best woman?), could definitely hold her liquor, but Belle had been reduced to a blushing, giggling bridesmaid at this point. Emma and Jack Daniels had been well acquainted long before Storybrooke, but it had been Regina's late-night challenges that boosted the blonde's tolerance to the ultimate level.
As a matter of fact, Emma had been just about this wasted when the Dark Swan seduced the Evil Queen. Not that she'd needed the liquor – her evil state had given her all the courage she'd lacked before to make a move. Sometimes, she missed the dark side, as it gave her more chances to dominate the Queen, but lately, Emma Swan was content as ever. Regina had saved her from the darkness, and it hadn't taken Emma long to come to her senses and propose. Now, here she sat at her "hen party," as Mary Margaret had called it, feeling much more like the rooster that ruled the coop.
Belle was still giggling when Ruby shook her head violently, hopping up and down a bit to ward off the burn of alcohol.
"Holy shit!" Ruby growled. "Okay, Casanova, I think it's time we cut you off…we can't have you still hung over by Saturday."
Emma reached out a sturdy hand as she stood from the stool, catching Belle and placing her back upright. Emma straightened her red leather jacket and adjusted the crop top Ruby had insisted on her wearing.
"Me!" Emma protested. "It's you two I'll have to walk home and tuck into bed later."
Ruby gave Emma a playful shove as she stumbled back into Belle. The adorable little nugget looked up through eyes that couldn't seem to focus and drawled, "Emma…you look so pretty…"
"Yes she does, drunky pants!" Mary Margaret had appeared behind them, back from her third trip to the bathroom. She wrapped her arms around them both, keeping the little brunette upright. Pleasantly buzzed, Mary Margaret had given up on shots by round two. "You really do look hot tonight, Emma."
"Mom…seriously…"
"Oh come on, Emma – we used to be roommates, remember. Don't tell me the girl talk is on total lockdown…" she nudged Emma playfully with her elbow.
"I knew I never should have let you throw me this damn party," Emma whined.
"Frankly I'm still surprised Regina agreed to let us go through with it," Ruby mused, and Belle's head began to nod in agreement.
"Yeh," Belle added. "She wasn't even that bitchy about it…for once."
The three brunettes didn't even try stifling their giggles.
"All right, watch it you three, that's my fiancé you're talking about." Soon to be wife…Emma's mouth curled up in a half smile as she thought back to a conversation with that very woman a few weeks ago.
Once Regina had finished that rich hearty laughter at Snow's expense, she quipped, "Really? A hen party? I believe 21st century folk call that a bachelorette party."
"Well, either way, they really want to throw me one…with booze and strippers – the whole nine yards."
Regina's lips pursed as she pretended to stay engrossed in the book she'd been reading before bed. Emma loved how the Queen's glasses slid way down on her nose, peeking out beneath her loose, raven black tresses.
God, she was beautiful, Emma thought, and she really wished she didn't have to ask her this, but she knew how much it meant to her friends.
"…anyway…" Emma realized she'd have to keep talking if she wanted a response. "They offered to throw one for both of us, but they weren't really sure how to broach the subject with you."
"Hmm, let me think..." the older woman began, still looking down at her book, "waste an entire evening before my first real wedding with my mother-in-law-to-be and your friends (pretending to be my friends) giggling and watching former pirate wenches take their clothes off? Please…there's not enough liquor in the world, Miss Swan."
"I know, babe, I tried to tell them, but –"
Regina cut her off, "And what's more, why would I go to all that trouble when I have a sexy blonde Savior right here who will take her clothes off for me any time I want, nearly free of charge?" The brunette's eyes flicked upward, giving Emma her best seductive smirk.
That had Emma crawling up Regina's bed to kiss her Queen. Emma hummed at her favorite (well, one of her favorite) tastes, and Regina gave her a low chuckle, loving the short leash she had her younger fiancé on. She pulled the blonde to lay in her lap before continuing, "Regardless, Emma, I think you should let them throw their little 'hen party'."
"Really?" Emma perked her head up from its cradle from between Regina's boobs.
"Why not? Those women could use come excitement in their dull little lives."
Emma started to offer defense for her friends, but found her chin snapped up in her lover's deft hand, their eyes now locked.
"Just promise me one thing, Emma."
"Yes?" she found her mouth had gone dry.
"Look – don't touch."
"…does that rule apply right now?" The blonde quirked an eyebrow, and in a flash of Regina's sheets, she snapped back to the present.
Emma could barely hear Ruby calling for her, an outstretched arm waiting for the blonde's grasp.
"Come on, Emma! We're not letting you get away without having a little bit of fun tonight."
Her friends had been relentless all night about getting her to go up closer to the stage and watch the dancers, and that's exactly what Emma had been nervous about. Alcohol, she could handle. Her sex drive…
She didn't know what she was so worried about. Furtive glances throughout the evening proved to her there was nothing up there worth more than the handful of dollar bills David had given her with a wink when she had dropped Henry off at the loft earlier for "guy's night."
Ruby had stopped, hands on her hips. "Am I gonna have to drag you, Swan? Or should I just tell everyone you chickened out?"
That lit a fire under Emma's ass. Many things she was, but chicken certainly wasn't one of them.
Emma held up a finger to her friend, asking for minute. She backtracked to the bar, and signaled for the bartender's attention, "Give me three shots – no, four, and an empty glass." Her hefty up-front tip had paid off, as her order came right up. Pouring all three shots into the glass, she quickly leaned over the bar and stealthily grabbed a handful of ice while the bartender's back was turned. With the clink of ice in her glass, she was running to catch up with Ruby.
"Hurry up already! We're about to miss the next set."
"Yeah, yeah," Emma scoffed, but her whining was drowned out by the music growing ever louder with their approach. They waded through a handful of creeps and a gaggle of dwarves before finally reaching their table. Mary Margaret and Belle sat waiting for them amidst various other ladies Ruby had invited, but Emma was too far gone at this point to recall any of their names.
Ruby shoved Emma down into the chair closest to the edge of the stage, next to Belle, who promptly laid her head on Emma's shoulder.
"Em, you're so comfy…and I'm so happy for you!"
Emma snorted, knowing it was a toss-up whether Belle would cry and pass out, or just pass out. But Ruby snatched up the little brunette before she could decide.
"Uh-uh, no sleeping yet, kiddo. You're not going to want to miss this."
Emma's brow furrowed at Ruby. "Miss what, Rubes?" But her friend just smiled back at her. And when the blonde switched her questioning gaze to Mary Margaret, her mother just shrugged. Before Emma had the chance to question them any further, she heard the sudden and rather loud sound of a heavily remixed 90s beat drop.
The blonde's head whipped around, and she pushed back her hair to gaze upon the most alluring silhouette she'd ever seen. Starting from the fuck-me pumps (even taller than Ruby's) Emma took in the immaculately sculpted calves, toned thighs, and curves that seemed to never stop.
Whistles, applause and other noises of approval rose from the small crowd around her, but the blonde's eyes were locked on the gorgeous figure strutting down the stage, and all her ears could hear were the semi-familiar lyrics:
I've got the stuff that you want
I've got the things that you need
I've got more than enough
To make you drop to your knees
And Emma feared that she might do just that, because this wasn't just your average dancer. No more skanky bimbos or former pirate whores in sight. Nope – this woman was a full-figured luscious goddess, and it didn't hurt that her chosen persona just so happened to coincide with one of Emma's wildest fantasies – a sexy cop. Complete with a rather authentic looking badge on her left hip, her baby-blue uniform shirt was tied up just at her slim ribcage, and hugged her so tight, it left little to the imagination. Her shiny black spandex shorts hugged her everywhere, cutting off just beneath her navel. Emma had no doubt those stiletto boots could kill a man seven ways to Sunday. When she dared to look up into the dancer's eyes, she found them masked by a sleek pair of mirrored aviators, just beneath the brim of her officer's cap.
The Sherriff was embarrassed that the dancer had clearly caught her staring openly, mouth agape and unable to control herself. A wide smirk enveloped the woman's face. She puckered her full, red lips at Emma, giving her an air kiss that the blonde definitely wanted to experience physically.
Knowing that she had Emma's rapt attention, the woman undoubtedly locked eyes with the blonde from beneath her shades, slapping her palms just above her knees, spreading her legs and dipping down to the floor as she lip-synced the phrase:
'Cause I'm the Queen of the Night
With that, she snapped back up, hands on her hips as she gave a violent thrust in Emma's direction. The blonde Sherriff hadn't even realized she had apparently stood up at one point during that display, but now she felt herself drifting forward, her body magnetized by that perfect, round, spandex-clad ass.
The dancer was now skipping – fucking skipping – back down the runway stage, revving up the crowd like a pop star. She stopped just before the doorway, resting both of her hands on her nearly-bare chest, sliding them down her ribcage, her toned abdomen, and almost between her legs. But, they closed abruptly as she continued sliding down to her knees.
Emma felt a growl low in her throat as she watched the woman crawl like a tiger, her sumptuous cleavage spilling out into plain view. The Sherriff never doubted for a moment she was the woman's prey – the two of them might as well have been alone in the club. Emma raised an eyebrow, challenging her officer to come closer. The woman responded by raising a delicate finger, moving it in a come-hither motion.
Before Emma could panic about having to get up on stage, she felt several hands pushing her forward, which left her stumbling toward the stage, catching herself on its edge. Her face was mere inches from the woman's, and she could hear an encouraging roar from the crowd. She couldn't back down now, so she took a long pull on her glass, downing her Jack before hoisting herself onto the stage, earning another delicious smirk from her partner in crime. The dancer gestured for Emma to turn around, her back nearly flush against the woman's front. They were gyrating and grinding to the music, apparently giving the people what they wanted, judging by the rising noise level.
Just before Emma got lost in the sounds and the spicy scent of the woman, her eyes flew open as she felt a pair of hands rip off her jacket and toss it into the crowd. The blonde started to protest, but used her precious little breath instead to gasp when she felt the woman's thigh come between hers, spreading her legs, and soft, yet demanding hands lifting Emma's arms spread eagle.
It was then that Emma realized she was about to be frisked.