Emma knocked on the door with the numbers 108. She heard the familiar clicking of heels and the door swung open to reveal a scowling face. "You are an hour late."
"I know, I felt bad that Neal kept Henry an extra hour today and so I wanted you to be able to make up that time with the kid."
Regina's face softened somewhat. She hated to admit that this meant a great deal to her; Emma had sacrificed an hour of her own coveted time with Henry so that she, Regina, could make up the time she was cheated. It seemed that the blonde was always doing that; cutting into her own budget or energy for the good of everyone else…even the woman that did everything possible to get under her skin.
"Come in, Miss Swan; it's cold." The blonde stepped gratefully into the warm house and sniffed hopefully. How did it always manage to smell so damn nice in here? No dirty tennis shoes laying by the door, no upturned umbrella outside the closet. There was nothing out of place in Regina's house and it made Emma want to break something. "I just put Henry to bed, he has school in the morning."
"Oh, right, well I guess I should have called about the difference-"
"You should have, though Henry insisted that…"
"What?"
"Henry seemed to think that you were okaying him to spend the night."
"Smart kid."
"Yes, well…you can see that I was disinclined to believe that." Emma certainly could. "Would you like a drink, Miss Swan?"
"Have any whiskey?"
Regina smiled briefly and led her into the sitting room before taking a snifter. "Neat or on the rocks."
"Whatever."
The mayor stifled the urge to smile. She poured it neat and handed the glass to Emma who was surprised the woman had guessed her preference. The shock must have registered in her face because Regina commented on it. "I assumed you didn't want water in your liquor; you are so straightforward in every other manner."
"Right." Emma said, ungracefully, trying to find the punchline. "Thanks." She sat down on the sofa and Regina sat on the other end with her own glass.
The blonde stared into the fire vacantly until the rustle of the Mayor's pencil skirt caught her attention. "Something on your mind, dear?"
Emma really didn't want to confide anything in Regina, however, she knew if anyone would know a master manipulator; it would be the Mayor. "Neal said something on the phone today that struck me as odd."
"You mean other than asking about my clothing?"
"That's not weird, you know the men in town can't keep their eyes off your…" Emma stopped herself and looked down to find that she had already drained her glass. Regina smiled and stood to replace it with another one.
"My what?" The Mayor's voice deepened somewhat.
"Your high heels." She finished with a deep breath and took a sip of the warming, liquid amber in the glass.
"Naturally. You were saying, about Neal?"
"He mentioned that Tamara was sick today."
"She was in the diner with our snooping friend, Greg actually."
"I know, don't you find that suspicious?"
Regina exhaled air through her nose and considered this. "It is actually, somewhat peculiar that she would lie about being sick to meet with Mendelson in a diner full of people. Perhaps, they had a spat and Neal was lying."
"Nope, I would know if he were lying."
"Then she wanted to get caught." Regina said quietly and cast a glance at the woman beside her. Not for the first time, she appreciated Emma's observational skills. She looked around at the dark house and the flickering light of the fire and found that it was almost…cozy to sit and have an adult discussion. Shaking the thoughts aside, she took Emma's empty glass from her hand and stood.
The liquor was making her warm and relaxed and she watched Regina's back as she poured; allowing her eyes to flicker up and down her body. Not for the first time, she was struck with how attractive the Mayor actually was. Neal found her so, as did most the men in town. When Regina Mills bent over for anything, they had trouble not staring. Emma's eyes flickered down to the woman's perfect ass. God, I could bounce a quarter off that thing. She thought, then corrected herself; No, not I. We're mortal enemies, remember? She tore her eyes away, looked into the fire, and sighed.
Regina cast a glance over her shoulder at the blonde. For a second, the brunette could have sworn the woman was staring a hole in her back. Well, not my back exactly, she thought with a smirk. It was nice to know that the usually distant Sheriff appreciated the view. She sat back down, a bit closer to Emma this time and slipped off her heels. They clunked to the floor as she tucked her feet up under her; being sure to not allow her skirt to ride up.
Emma looked down into her glass. Is this my second or third…or fourth? She found that she didn't care. Like the rest of the expensive things in Regina's house, her liquor was no exception. "She was sending me a message."
"Sorry, dear?" Regina had been thinking about how to exploit the Sheriff's attraction to her and had been absently running her fingers across her lips.
"Tamara. A diner full of people. She knew I would talk to Neal, knew that I would know that she didn't go with him and Henry. She was sending me a message."
"For what reason?"
"I have no idea." Emma shrugged and tossed more liquor into her mouth she turned to see an odd look on Regina's face. "What?"
"Nothing, you just…look like Henry when you do that."
"What?"
"Shrug…" She said quietly, and then for tradition's sake, threw in an insult. "I suppose it's because you often act like an 11 year old."
Emma shrugged again and smirked and Regina found that she had to fake an annoyed look. "Maybe. Or maybe it's because I birthed him and he looks like me."
"Yes, well, he can't help that, dear."
"He looks kinda like you too, actually." Emma looked at her seriously and Regina gave an incredulous look. "No, really. He makes faces like yours, especially that Duh face of his."
"I don't say duh."
"No, but you definitely make the face." Emma stretched out her long legs, leaning back into the soft material of the couch, slightly encroaching on Regina's space; but the blonde didn't notice, she was far too content in in the liquor and the warmth.
"So what are you going to do about Tamara?"
"Do? There's nothing to do. Just wait until I can figure out what she's on about." Emma said and picked at her nails.
"You don't think you should try to head her off? Beat her out of the gate, so to speak?"
"Nope." She said and then looked at the thoughtful woman beside her. "And don't you get any ideas, Mayor." She said, her eyes shining with liquor. "I don't need your pyrotechnics involved."
"Miss Swan, I haven't used magic in months." She considered the woman before her and went to refill their glasses. "And I wouldn't presume to fight your battles for you. I know that you relish the challenge."
"I must." Emma said quietly thinking of the sick pleasure she took from sparing with the brunette beside her.
"What was that?" Regina turned and looked at her suspiciously.
"I said, I do. I'm a glutton for punishment, obviously."
"Yes, you're positively masochistic." Regina handed her another round.
"Then that makes you the sadist." Emma said darkly and she saw an actual smile lighten Regina's face. It wasn't the cryptic, sinister, wicked grin that was her customary method of flashing her teeth; it was light and playful. Emma swallowed hard as she thought, And beautiful.
"Oh, Miss Swan," She leaned in allowing Emma a glance down her shirt. "You have no idea."
"Well, Mayor, I wouldn't presume to know such things." She threw the woman's words back at her from earlier in the day.
"No, my dear, you're definitely not my type."
"Well, that would be because I'm not a man." She said and laughed as she took a sip. Are we really talking about this?
"Do you believe that I am really that one dimensional?"
Emma nearly dropped her glass, "Wh-wh-what?"
"As articulate as ever." Regina smirked. "My dear, I wore lust and seduction like they were my own skin in my kingdom and you assume that I only sleep with men." She chuckled, "Sadly, I thought you were smarter than that." She tisked. "But it seems that I was mistaken."
"I never considered it any of my business." Emma defended. "And I only ever knew of Graham."
"Yes, well perhaps you should have asked rather than assuming."
"I apologize, Mayor." Emma sat up and glared at her through her liquored haze. "Next time I think you're fucking someone I'll just knock on your door and ask you straight out; because that has worked so well in the past."
"Miss Swan, how crude." Regina wrinkled her nose at the distasteful profanity.
"That's me, crude and stubborn and lacking in taste and not your type. Add that nugget to the goddamn pile of my reasons to be on your shit-list." She was pissed and the liquor was making her brave; coupled with the exhaustion her body was feeling and the stress she was under and it became a magic, bitch-at-Regina-cocktail.
"Miss Swan-" Regina cringed slightly into the back of the couch at the raging woman before her.
"You take every opportunity to take pot-shots at me at every turn. You insult me in front of my son and my town; you waltz into my office like you fucking own it; own me. Well, I've about had enough of it; everyone needing me to be their knight in shining armor and you needing me to be your whipping boy. I'm sick and tired." Emma growled and drew nearer.
"Sheriff Swan, I think that's enough." But whether she was speaking about the liquor or the tirade, Regina wasn't sure. Regina was confused. Had they not been almost joking a few moments ago? It was not like the blonde to be moody or temperamental. The brunette briefly considered that she herself had no right to make that judgment; still it unnerved her because the normally well-balanced blonde seemed to be listing. She just stared at the blonde in amazement; the stress was finally getting to her and she couldn't help thinking how bizarre it was to see the blonde out of control and…weak.
The look of fear and apprehension (and…was that sympathy?) in Regina's face drove Emma backward. The brunette looked somewhat frightened; of her. The blonde found this funny and she began chuckling quietly before looking back at the woman regarding her curiously. "So what will it be Mayor? Assault? Verbal abuse? Disorderly drunkenness."
"I'm not sure that last one is an actual charge, dear." Regina said softly unwilling to admit how unsettled she was by the woman's verbal assault. It was almost as if Regina actually…depended on Emma's solidarity to keep herself in check.
"No, I suppose I've never booked anyone on that one exactly." Her words were beginning to slur heavily as the liquor slowed her mind; it had been a long time since she had consumed that much alcohol. She turned back to the Mayor, "Look, Regina-"
The brunette held up a hand. "Forget about it." She growled and then looked at the clock, "You're staying in my guest room tonight. I don't want you on the roads in your state."
"Aw, Mayor, don't tell me that you're worried about my safety." Regina rolled her eyes and Emma smirked as her feet stumbled a bit; swaying off balance so that the brunette placed a steadying hand on her arm.
"I'm not; I'm worried about any street signs and trees that may get in your way." She tugged her forward and led her up the stairs before leading her gently to the guest bedroom and turning.
"What no bedtime story? No kiss on the forehead?" Emma asked playfully, shucking her boots.
"Goodnight, Miss Swan." Regina turned off the light and clicked shut the door.
Emma awoke with a serious hangover. "Oh, God." She moaned and rolled over in Regina's bed. Her eyes snapped open and her head throbbed miserably at the light in the room but she sat bolt upright. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! She thought and looked down to find herself in her in cotton boy briefs and tank top. Oh, God! Where's my bra? She scanned the room, ignoring the pounding in her head and attempting to spy it tossed casually over something in Regina's spacious bedroom. She leapt away from the bed, unable to find it and gave up before scrounging around for the rest of her clothes that had obviously been discarded in hast. "Oh shit!" was her next profanity as she dressed hurriedly and stole to the ridiculous vanity in the room to check her face.
Her hair was mussed like someone had been running their fingers through it and…Oh God! Is that a hicky? She brushed her fingers on the bruise on her collarbone and jumped when she heard the water turn off in the bathroom and the shower curtain rustling. She panicked and scrambled for it.
Emma rushed out of the room and down the stairs, fumbling with the door. Another slam came from upstairs and she wrenched the door open, bounding out into the blinking sun and down the porch. It was freezing; and she was barefoot.