A/N: so this isn't very good but I hope someone enjoys it anyway.
Emma Swan is the most arrogant and irritating person that you've ever met. There isn't a doubt in your mind about that and she is single handedly the most annoying thing that can happen on any given day. Your meetings with her are the most annoying things in the world, they leave you on edge and extremely frustrated for hours on end whenever they occur. She makes you grind your teeth and clench your fists and yet even that isn't enough to stop you reacting to her.
You always snapped at each other, that's just what you do, yet recently you've found yourself doing it more. You send scathing comments her way and snarky remarks are hurled after her even after she has turned to leave. You just really can't help yourself any more. Really it is quite ridiculous, after all you're a fully grown women, you should be able to contain yourself. There's just something about her recently that makes you, you hesitate to say, react to her.
You haven't been able to stop yourself from commenting on anything you can insult her about. It really has reached an unbelievable level now. You don't know what's wrong with you. You just can't seem to stop yourself from insulting her. Every time you do it you curse yourself because she's Henry's other mother and you're supposed to be civil and at least trying to get along with each other for his sake if not your own.
The strange thing is, she never seems to comment back any more. She just sits there, while you insult her and she takes it. As if that isn't bad enough, she has the audacity to sit there and smirk at you whilst you insult her. To male that even worse as well, the more you insult her the more she smirks at you. Throughout your meetings it just grows and grows. As if all of this isn't bad enough you've found that your gaze has taken to wandering to the dip in Miss Swan's ridiculous wife beaters. Today, you even found it wandering lower, she had cleared her throat and you had looked up, startled, to find that her smirk had worked its way all of the way up the scale to a shit eating grin.
For the rest of the meeting you had remained in a flustered state, but by the end of the meeting you had regained some form of composure. As she turned to leave you found yourself examining her rear and having less than conservative thoughts about one Miss Emma Swan. Just as she was about to reach the door you managed to snap out of your thoughts that would have made a sailor blush and make a comment on Emma's clothing choices and how they weren't suited ti the town's sheriff. For the first time she had turned back and in all her self assured arrogance made a comment that had stuck in your head in repeat for hours "well it's not as though you really mind. Is it Madame Mayor?" With a final smirk at you she had walked through the door.
It was such a simple comment but your confused about its meaning. Did that mean she didn't mind you looking? How long had she known? You knew the thought would aggravate you until you went mad and possibly massacred the whole town, so you had to find out what she had meant.
For the rest of the day you had found yourself counting down the seconds until your day ended so you could go and find out what she meant. Even if it meant confronting her or revealing your confusion on your feelings on the subject that was Emma Swan.
When the day ends you find yourself waiting on the front steps of the small cottage by the beach that Emma had been renting after moving out of her parents apartment. You've knocked and now you're just waiting for her to answer. You're nervous but you don't know why, if you would ever admit it you'd tell yourself that she has succeeded in making your palms sweat but you tell yourself that it's just them becoming clammy due to the humidity of the evening.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of waiting but was probably just a few minutes, she answers the door in her too tight jeans and low cut wife beater whilst towelling her hair dry. You can't help but note that she smells amazing and that she looks good in her slightly dishevelled state. When she sees its you, a smirk crosses her face and you find yourself taking a step backward on the small porch. It's like she knew you were coming and that thought frightens you an immense amount.
As she takes a step forward, you watch as her smirk grows and you open your mouth to talk. She throws her towel behind her and her right hand reaches out and lightly grabs your left wrist. She knows why you're here and she knows you want one answer in particular but you know from the way she's looking at you she isn't going to answer you in words.
She pulls you flush against her and as you gasp, her lips cover yours and swallow the sound. Her way of answering your questions is more effective than words anyway.