What I love about writing fanfics is the ability we have to test ourselves. This is a fic of several first for me. It's my first swan queen fic and my first in first person, for instance.

I hope you enjoy this story I'm set on telling. And by all means, feel free to share and opine. I want to hear from you as much as you hopefully would like to hear from me. xx

It was the way she danced, how freely and easily she moved on the floor, that took my breath away. Her simple white evening gown flowed in the space around her, as her body stretched in a rhythm all her own. Hours earlier, that dress presented her as an angel on stage. Now the thin and airy fabric draped her limbs like silk on a siren.

She had several drinks throughout the day. Hopefully the last was currently in her hands. Drinking made her a little more giddy and a little less withdrawn. It was why she was in the middle of the room, using her phone as a radio and the small, empty space as her dance floor.

There was no one else on the floor tonight. Nearly everyone had left hours ago. The room had been packed, people cramming in corners to fit in. A few chosen words and they had not even bothered to pretend that they wanted to stay in the small room. Nothing was set up for them anyway, except a couple of tables, a few chairs and an half empty bar.

Why pretend to be content to stay there? They were all too busy with too many new plans and too many new decisions confronting them. Time could not be wasted. And that moment, they saw her as wasted time. They did what I could not do. They left the small box of a room. Left me alone with her.

While I sat in my little wobbly seat in the corner, she inhabited the entire space. She owned it with every move she made. Her head pushed back against the night, with her eyes directed towards the ceiling. My eyes fell on the slim yet tan neck, looking so delicate as it rocked from side to side. The urge to touch it, to follow its trail down her body, nearly overwhelmed me.

I sat still. I ignored all emotion, like my training required. I paid no attention to the heat rising in me as I watched her dance. She hummed as she rocked. Her hair cascaded down her back like a rich chocolate river covering a pale river bed.

Did she notice how much control she had over me, over my world? At this moment, I seriously doubted it. Her focus was on the music filling the air. Her lithe body flowed with it as it boomed from a tiny speaker. She carelessly laughed at her own amusement and took a sip from the near empty champagne glass in her hand.

I knew I should not be watching her, but who in their right mind would ever look away. The sway of her hips drew the eyes like a moth to a forbidden flame. Her call was deadly, but its heat undeniable.

This was the moment I realized my life, as I knew it, was over. I should have quit then. I should have turned away from the all too enticing sight. But I looked. I stared. I consumed her like a flower by a window in an otherwise dark room. I reached for my sunlight.

She startled me when turned to me, but I made sure not to let it show. I was paid to be a wall and walls had no emotions. She met my blank stare with a smirk that spoke more of sadness than smugness. I could not tell if she knew what I was thinking. I was fairly certain she did not. But something made her gyrations stop, even as the music continued. She sat her near empty glass of wine on the table nearest to her and held out her hands.

"Ms. Swan." She said my name as if it was the beginning of a prayer. If it was, it was me that was silently doing the worshiping.

"Dance with me."

I did not know if it was a request or an order. But the darkness that had taken over her eyes left no doubt that she expected only one answer. I cleared my throat before I told her what she did not want to hear.

"Madame First Lady, I believe it is time to call it a night."

She chuckled at my attempt at turning her down. She really was someone unaccustomed to hearing a negative response. She bit her lip and watched me for a moment, weighing what to say next. I imagined my blonde hair turning gray under her extensive stare. Her eyes examined me, slowly moving downward until her gaze hit the floor. It quickly bounced back to meet mine.

"Ms. Swan, how long have you been on my detail?"

"Since your husband officially became a nominee."

She nodded. Her eyes never left mine. "And do you know what he became today?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's why I say Madame First Lady I believe it's time to call it a night."

She put on a pout about as fake as a devil's smile. If I had not spent months with her on the trail, I would have believed it. This was not a woman who pouted when she did not get her way. I had been witnessed to it before. She was a woman who pushed back, not demurely whined or gave in. Still she tried her tactic with me.

"I am celebrating Ms. Swan." The whine in her voice hit a perfect pitch. Inside I chuckled at the blatant tactical move. Outside I remained the wall, unmoved.

"You would not be so callous to deprive me of my private celebration. You serve at the pleasure of the president, do you not?"

"Yes ma'am."

Her tactic suddenly changed. Gone was the demure pout and whine. It was replaced by a soft smile and smoky, hooded eyes. The alarms immediately went off in my head. As always, I ignored them.

I watched her carefully as she took five small steps in my direction. Five small steps with legs that peeked out through the slits in her grown. Five steps with legs meant to be caressed and tested for smoothness. Five steps that tested my resolve in who I was and who I wanted to be. Five steps brought her to me.

I should have stood. I remained sitting. I should have back away. I remained in the same spot, centimeters away from her. As it were, she looked down at me. Her body framed within my open legs. She was in my space. If it bother her, she did not let it show. Plus, let's face it. It bothered me a whole hell of a lot.

"You agree you serve at my husband's pleasure, Ms. Swan. Does not your service then extend to considering my pleasure?"

Her hands landed on my shoulders as she leaned over me. I think she wanted to see where my eyes would fall. Would they drift towards her cleavage, heaving near my left cheek? Or was I to look into the gap at the neck of her dress, made from her leaning? She did not know where my eyes would go. Hell, neither did I. We were both surprised when my gaze meet hers.

I caught her unguarded look of trepidation and weariness, before her eyes with blank. Her eyebrows shot up as if asking a question of me. Did I see what she hoped I did not? Would that change anything?"

"Dance with me, Ms. Swan." She whispered. This time the uncertainty slipped into her voice.

"Madam First—"

"Regina." She cut me off. Her frown was the most sincere expression she had given me all night. It was if she did not like the title. Perhaps, she was just unused to it. I sighed, suddenly tired of the game we played. It had been a long day spent withdrawing myself from the world. I was the wall. But even walls sometimes needed a break.

"I am sure the President is waiting to receive you in your quarters, ma'am." I hoped she would hear my need to be released from my duties in my voice and took pity. Who was I kidding? She saw the small crack in the wall and smiled. She had revealed a weakness to me and I had not used it against her. She would not do the same.

She grabbed my hand and pulled gently, removing me from my chair. Her arms wrapped around my neck. She removed the pin I used to hold my hair in place. Why did I let her? I did not know. But at that moment I did not have the strength to stop her. She pulled me close and rested her head on my shoulder.

"Madame First Lady-" I tried again, only to be cut off.

"Regina," she ordered again.

"The President, ma'am."

It was a small reminder of a big presence in both of our lives. He was the reason we were here. We were together. He was the reason she danced and I watched. But as I looked in her eyes, those smoky brown eyes, I realized the big presence, the harsh light that loomed over us, was not there. At that moment, there was just her and I.

Her fingers slid through the escaping blonde locks now resting on my shoulder. She sighed.

"Let's make him wait Ms. Swan. Shall we?"