A/N: A lot of stuff happens in this chapter. I hope y'all are still following along. And again, I'm sorry for my absence but between work and other… things, I just can't write as much as I want to. Also, this chapter is over 7K words in length and there's sex in this chapter. So… I'm sorry but here's some smut? I dunno. Also, special thanks to my beta again, Wolf Stevens . Because she's awesome.
Chapter Rating:
NSFW (For adult content, strong language, and violence)
Warnings: Non-Magical AU, Criminal AU, NSFW, Smut, Violence, Minor Character Death
Full Summary: Found in Chapter One
Chapter Summary: Negotiation (n.) - a discussion aimed at reaching an agreement. Aggressive Negotiations (n.) - Negotiations with a lightsaber.
Disclaimer:
Found in Chapter One


"Willingness to meet halfway works well only if we are able to judge distance accurately."
― Faisal Khosa


"What? No pithy one-liner? No snappy comeback?"

She doesn't say anything at first. Emma's somewhat shocked, but to say she's surprised would be a bit of an exaggeration. She's dealing with an assassin; a hitperson for hire. So on some level she saw this coming. But she had hoped Regina would at least hear her out before she tried to kill her again.

Emma huffs, rolling her eyes as she brings her coffee cup to her lips. She takes a drink, her taste buds coming to life as the latte coats her tongue. Then she puts Regina's cup of coffee down on a table near her before she reaches into her coat. Regina tenses but she just shakes her head.

"Relax, I'm not armed," Emma tells her.

Regina cocks an eyebrow at that. "Stupid move on your part."

Emma lets out a bitter laugh, setting her coffee down beside Regina's. "Yeah, I'm getting that."

Pulling out her pack of smokes, she takes her time lighting up, indulging in the taste of the toxic smoke. It fills her lungs, the nicotine raging in her veins, relaxing her somewhat. She chances a glance at Regina who's silently fuming. Apparently, she's not a smoker. Too bad. She can't try to kill Emma and then turn her nose up at her bad habits.

After a few long drags from the cancer stick, Emma dares to speak once more. "So," she begins, exhaling a long line of white smoke. "You normally dress like that for an assassination? Or am I just special?"

Regina's standing there in a charcoal gray wrap dress that hugs her body, snugly. The low neckline gives Emma a good view of Regina's cleavage and she grins.

"Not that I'm complaining," she tells her. "I, for one, am enjoying the scenery."

"There is something wrong with you," Regina replies, her arms slightly trembling from holding the gun in the ready position for a few minutes now.

Emma's smile brightens. "So they tell me." She leans back against the wall behind her, arms folded over her chest as she unwaveringly meets Regina's gaze. Whether she's scared or not, her face doesn't show it. She's sporting a cocky grin, her eyes taking in Regina's form like she knows exactly what's under that dress. "Are you going shoot me or can I make my proposal?"

Regina doesn't respond, her readjusting the grip on her gun, as she studies her. Emma suspects she's wondering if there's truly something wrong with her. The blonde chuckles, pleased with herself.

"Put the gun down, Regina," Emma finally says. "Drink the rapidly cooling coffee I got for us and just hear me out. You still want to shoot me in the face, fine. But don't go back out on what we agreed on."

"I never agreed to anything," Regina fires back, her arms quaking with a slight tremor. The movies make it look so easy but the truth is even the most trained individuals can't hold a heavy hunk of metal and death at the ready position for too long without some drift. Add the adrenaline no doubt coursing through her veins and a little shaking is more than understandable.

Emma, however is steady. Her movements are slow and deliberate. She's been in the game for what feels like lifetimes. This isn't the first time someone's held a gun to her. This isn't the first time she's walked into a trap. So she takes her time, bringing the cigarette to her mouth as if she was painting the air with smoke and ash. Her lips hold the butt between her lips and rolls her jacket off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. She eases back against the wall near the door, and takes another long pull from her cigarette. Her watery aquamarine eyes boring into dark amber one, almost daring Regina make a move.

But all she offers is a warning. "Don't underestimate me, Miss Swan. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

Emma scoffs in response, kicking off her boots.

Regina's eyes widen. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm making myself comfortable," Emma says, plucking the cigarette from her mouth and rolling it between her fingers. She's almost smoked it down to the filter. Time's up. With a shrug she throws the butt into her coffee cup. The two seconds she has her back to Regina are intense. But when she doesn't get a bullet to the back, Emma can't fight the grin that curls in the ends of her lips as she turns around to find that the other woman has yet to lower her weapon.

"You're out of your mind," Regina says, slightly irritated tone.

"Probably," Emma replies, drawing closer with measured steps. "But so you are if you think pointing a gun at my chest is enough to scare me off. You're going to have to do better than that. So either shoot me or hear me out. Because you don't know who I am or where I've been and, sister, you have no idea what I'm capable of." She stops just inches from Regina's face, ignoring the the gun in her hands. "Your move."

The other woman's eyes flash with an emotion that Emma can't quite name. She watches her gaze dip, her lips quirking into an amused but predatory smirk that looks more like a snarl. Then Regina pounces, the gun dropping to her side, and with her free hand, cups the back of Emma's neck, pulling their bodies together.

Regina kisses her like she wants to devour Emma from the mouth down. Their lips meet with an equal but opposing force. Like a whirlwind of desire. Then suddenly and without warning Regina rips herself away, leaving Emma dizzy with need.

"We should… we…" Regina says between big gulps of air. She swallows thickly before she tries again. "I'll hear your proposal now, Miss Swan."

"After…" Emma tells her stepping in close again.

But Regina stops her with a flat palm to the center of her chest. "Before."

With a wolfish grin, Emma leans in, her head dipping to ghost her lips over Regina's exposed clavicle. "During?"

She feels fingers dig into the back of her neck, forcing Emma's gaze up, where she's greeted by dark, lust-blown eyes.

"Agreed," Regina pants.

Emma's free hand traces tiny circles down Regina's bare arm, watching goosebumps raise on her exposed skin. Emma's fingers slide over Regina's hand and carefully she takes the gun from her grasp.

"What are you doing?" Regina asks.

With the gun in her hand, Emma steps away. "Disarming you." She places the gun a nightstand near the hotel bed with a self-satisfied grin on her face. "I could give it back to you. If it'll make you feel safer."

Regina shakes her head. "No, negotiations work better if there are no guns involve."

With a soft chuckle Emma stands in front of the other woman and hooks a finger around Regina's thin, metallic belt, and pulls their bodies together. "Couldn't agree with you more." She undoes the clasp to the belt and it falls with a soft thud. "The question now is where to begin."

Regina's arms hook around Emma's neck, her lips ghosting across the blonde's. "Miss Swan, I hope that's not your only question."

Emma's finger twist in the string at Regina's hip and begins to pull ever so slowly. "No, it isn't. But it's a good neutral point to start our negotiations."

The bow gives and the dress falls loose. Emma runs her fingers along Regina's collarbone, her hand snaking around her neck as she closes the distance between them. Their mouths come together in a silent and subtle battle for dominance. Regina's hands are clasped around Emma's neck, as she takes her bottom lip between her teeth, and gently pulls away, her chin tilted up. A shudder runs through Emma as she lays a trail of kisses along Regina's jawline, her lips latching onto the soft patch of skin just below her ear, and she almost falters when her hand slips into Regina's dress to find her without a stitch of clothing underneath.

Emma groans at the discovery. "You're killing me, Regina."

The other woman lets out a deep rolling laugh. "That had been the plan."

Pulling away Emma catches her eyes, backing them toward the nearest wall, despite the bed being closer. She palms her breasts, the action opening the dress, exposing the other woman's form to her darkened eyes. "And now?"

Regina's breath hitches in her throat. "I could be persuaded to terminate my current contract and seek other employment opportunities." She arches into Emma's touch. "If given the proper incentive. And I assure you it won't be an easy sell."

Emma chuckles, rolling one of her nipples between her fingers. "Well, allow me to state my case, then."

Regina gasps. "Yes..."

Whether it's trepidation or adoration, Emma sets a pace that is excruciatingly slow. Her lips brush Regina's tentatively, barely touching. Each time Regina attempts to deepen their kiss, Emma pulls away until a soft whimper from the other woman has her dipping back in. Every pass giving Regina just a little more but never enough. And when she practically growls her frustration, all Emma does is chuckle, her lips grazing the other woman's jawline as she tracing a path to her earlobe. She draws it between her teeth and bites down with blunted teeth. Fingers dig into her back as Regina steadies herself, crying out, arching into Emma.

"Easy Regina, don't want to seem too eager," Emma purrs. "I might low ball you an offer. And we wouldn't want that, would we?"

Regina licks her lips before she responds with a, "I expect nothing less than what I deserve, Miss Swan."

Emma slips a hand between them, cupping the other woman's sex, pulling a surprise gasp from Regina. "I don't have plans to cheat you. That's not how I'd like this to work."

The heat this woman is giving off is maddening. It's hard to think when Emma's fingers already slick with Regina's arousal. She almost missed the uncertainty that flashes across her face when she asks, "How would you like this to work?"

"I deal in information, Regina," Emma says. "I propose a trade. Information for information. You ask a question. I give you an honest answer. And in exchange I get to ask a question of my own." When Regina's brow furrow with worry she reassures her. "I don't want to know your deep dark secrets. Everything I ask will be work related."

Regina nods but there's a playful glint to her darkening gaze. "And what if I want to know your deep dark secrets?"

Emma runs teasing fingers along Regina's slit, her lips capturing the other woman's, and swallowing a breathy moan. "Is that an official question, Regina?"

She shakes her head. "No. How did you make me last night?"

"It's not all you. I caught wind of big money changing hands a few weeks ago. I couldn't find the source through conventional means. And the unconventional methods take time," Emma confesses, her fingertips swiping along the tiny bundle of nerves she has ignored until now, and bites back a groan as it hardens at her touch and Regina moans. "Fuck… So hot…

"Where was I? I got it. When I found out someone had paid an independent contractor for some - let's say - 'renovations,' I didn't realize I was the target until about a week later."

Regina leans forward, her breath caressing Emma's lips. "That doesn't explain how you knew I had taken the contract."

Emma's rebuttal comes in the form of adding just a little more pressure to Regina's clit until she cried out. "I'm getting to that. Patience. It's a story. I'm telling a story here. Anyway. Then it was a matter of eliminating the big players and funneling the information to the interested parties."

"You're saying that you planned this?" Regina asks.

"With such a surprised tone…" Emma teases. "But no. Not exactly. It was like between you and two other people. And based on a particular well-documented weakness of mine, it put the odds strongly in your favor. Then it was just a matter of leaving myself exposed enough to initiate a cold approach but not a long distance kill."

"You offered yourself up as bait?"

"Yes. But I didn't think you'd run a honeypot on me," Emma says. "Nearly had a damn heart attack the first I saw you naked."

Regina lets out a throaty chuckle, capturing Emma's lips in a brief kiss. "That would have made my life easier."

"But not nearly as interesting," Emma whispers. "To your credit I didn't know I who I was dealing with until you pushed the cider. At first I thought I hit the fucking lottery. Shoulda known my luck wasn't that good."

"I don't know, Miss Swan, I would say you've gotten plenty lucky."

It's Emma's turn to let out a chuckle. "Was that an innuendo? Regina, I'm impressed."

She flashes a warm smile for a moment it's almost like they're civilians and this is nothing more than just two people connecting with each other. No hidden agendas. No double speak. Just Emma. Just Regina. Simple. Breezy. Unbelievably fun. The gun on the nightstand tells a different tale. However, it's easy to fall into the fantasy. Even it's only for a little while.

Still, Emma reminds herself to get back to business. This is after all a business meeting. "Now, by my count that was like three questions. Which means, I get three questions." Before Regina could raise a protest, she silences her with kiss, pulling away far enough that she could see the other woman's face clearly. "I'll keep them simple. Don't worry. One: Do you really find me intriguing?"

Regina rolls her eyes. "Disagreeable, vexatious… And despite that, or perhaps because of it, I do find myself intrigued by you."

She beams, rewarding the assassin (and let's be honest herself) with a teasing stroke through silken folds. Regina bites her bottom lip, head sinking to Emma's shoulder, and lets out a muted whimper.

"An honest answer," Emma husks, battling with herself, trying to draw this out. "Very good. Now for question number two.

"Was sleeping with me last night a part of the plan?"

Regina lifts her head to catch Emma's gaze. "A happy accident."

"Just couldn't help yourself," Emma says smugly. "I get it. Now last question for this round." She brushes her lips against Regina's. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Her response is immediate. Hands clasp around her neck, pulling their bodies together. She almost rips Emma's head clear off, lips crashing together so hard it hurts; Regina's tongue demanding entrance into Emma's mouth, which she happily grants. The kiss is heated, ablaze with an explosive passion that is quickly becoming routine for them. It's the kind of fire would burn them both. Because this kind of flame either fizzles out or goes off like a pile of plastic explosive and takes out a city block, leaving only chaos and destruction in it's wake. And if past is prologue, it'll be the latter and not the former.

When they break apart, they're both gasping, exchanging heated breaths just a few inches from each other.

"So is that a yes or…?" Emma teases.

Regina offers a silent rebuttal with a not so gentle push on her shoulders and guides her to her knees. Emma's eyes are dark green pools, fixed on the other woman's glistening sex. For a moment she does nothing but wordlessly appreciate the work of art laid bare before her. Then she feels Regina's leg hook over her shoulder and draw her closer. The heady scent of her arousal is almost a shock to Emma's system. She can't think past the idea of tasting her again. Her mouth practically waters at thought.

"Do you need a written invitation, Miss Swan?" Regina asks impatiently.

"What?" Emma says looking up, barely registering that the other woman has spoken. "No…" Her lips brush Regina's exposed inner thigh. "I got a little distracted… I don't know if you've realized but your flavor of sexy is a little overwhelming."

Regina lets out a husky laugh that ends in a breathy moan when Emma sucks the flesh over her pulse point on her inner thigh. "Are you saying you're not capable of giving me what you promised?"

Emma smirks. "Not even in the slightest. I was just sorta hoping you might have asked me nicely to get on my knees."

"I don't beg," Regina says, plainly. "And most certainly don't do nice."

"Duly noted."

Emma silences Regina's would be retort with a teasing swipe of her tongue over the other woman's most intimate parts. A hand grips her ponytail holding her in place, and hips roll to greet her eager mouth. She has plans to only tease and taunt, to make Regina, despite her previous claims to the contrary, beg for release. But all of that goes out the window with the first taste of her hot, viscous essence on her tongue. Her hands slid over the rise of Regina's ass, humming her encouragement as the woman above her rides the flat of her tongue.

On her knees, face buried between her thighs, Emma loses herself in Regina. She forgets her plan, her desire to vex and provoke. Now all she wants is make her peak over and over again. She wants Regina's orgasm more than anything.

A sharp heel digs painfully into her back but she ignores it, relishing in the sounds she can pull from Regina only using her tongue. A litany of soft gasps, and deep moans spur Emma on to her goal. Her thumbs slip through warm, wet lips to give her better access to Regina. When her lips catch the other woman's clit, Regina bucks so hard and unexpectedly that it doesn't come as a shock to Emma when she tastes a tinge of copper.

She can't help but smirk. It's not her first "war wound." And judging by the now stinging pain at her back where Regina's heel scrapes along her skin it won't be her last. Emma doesn't stop, she doesn't pull away, she doesn't deviate from her course; too close to her goal to stop now.

The hand twisted in her hair tightens, holds her in place. She cuts her eyes at the offending party and Regina only offers her a breathy, but somehow still stern, "Don't. Get. Cocky."

The grin Emma wears only widens, dark hooded eyes glint with a playfulness, and Emma eases a single finger inside the other woman before she can snark her any further. Regina's sharp, hitching breaths, and quiet cursing is music to her ears. Emma rolls her eyes up her gaze roaming over the smooth slopes and valleys of her body, needing to see her face. Regina's eyes are screwed shut, head thrown back, bottom lip caught between her teeth, with one hand still tight in her hair, the other trying to find purchase on something solid, fingers clawing the wall she leans against.

"Fuck…" Emma groans against her skin, a finger once again sliding into slick heat.

"More…" Regina breathes.

And Emma's more than happy to oblige, adding a second finger and then, when the time is right, a third. She lathes Regina's clit with attention as she eases in and out of the other woman. Regina meets her ministrations with an eager roll of her hips, her inner walls clenching around Emma as she dives deeper. Like she's looking for some place inside of the other woman that's just out of reach.

"Ah… nhn… fuck!" Regina grinds out against clenched teeth. "Harder…"

Emma almost picks up her head to tease Regina and call her a bossy bottom but she can't pull away. Everything about this woman draws her in, holds her attention, makes her forget herself just enough to get lost. So instead of drawing away, she drives her fingers hard into Regina's core.

The other woman lets out a sound that can't be called a moan or a shout but somehow is a bit of both. "Yes!"

They fall into a steady rhythm, Regina's hips and Emma's hands and tongue. It's like they're making music, caught in a primal dance. After a while Emma feels the fatigue in her wrist, her elbow, her fucking jaw. It doesn't matter, Regina's close. And Emma wants to watch her tumble over that edge. She's already rendered the woman a trembling mess of quaking thighs, heaving breathes, and barely formed words that don't sound like any language known to man. And yet Emma understands every broken word.

"Oh God… I'm… nuh… I'm… Fuck!"

She knows. She can feel it around her fingers. Hear it with the steady rise of her moans. Taste it on her tongue like a coming storm. And when Regina falls over the edge it's like the crashing of a tidal wave. Her nails dig into Emma's shoulder trying to anchor her to something solid, her back arching off the wall, as she lets out this keening wail that to Emma sounds like victory.

She rides it out with her, sure and steady until Regina settles and Emma can stand without worrying about her falling. She withdraws her hand, tensing when sharp nails cut into her shoulder. She ignores her body's protests, though; the way her muscles strain against her efforts, and stands anyway.

Her lips curl in a satisfied smirk when she sees Regina; hair tousled, the beginnings of a lazy smile playing on her features as she tries to regulate her breathing. There's a swell of pride deep in Emma's chest. She can't help think, Yeah, I did that, taking her fingers into her mouth. She hums at the taste of this woman on her digits.

Regina's dark eyes are burning into her. Watching her like Emma is her prey and she's about to go in for kill. And she does. Grabbing Emma's tank top, she pulls Emma against in her, drawing their lips together into a searing kiss. And that possibility that this fire between them would burn them both, jumps to a certainty. But Emma doesn't care. So long as Regina keeps touching her, the rest of it doesn't matter. She could leave her a smoldering pile of ash, and it'd be worth it.

However it isn't just Emma's heart on the line anymore. She's got the kid now. And Emma's starting to realize that when she got hurt, so did he. And the days, where doing stuff like this is the norm, are quickly becoming relics of the past. All for Henry's sake. But she shakes her head at the thought. She can't have Henry on the brain right now.

Wrapped in her own thoughts she's caught off guard when Regina pushes her down on the bed. Because she honestly doesn't remember walking over it. And that's a problem.

There is just one other person that made her feel love-drunk like this. And if past is prologue there is only one way this could end; with someone getting their heart broken and/or stabbed in the back. She shudders at the thought. Whatever happens now, it's squarely in her court. And she knows that it's probably her turn for either scenario.

"Miss Swan, you're overdressed for the second half of these…" Regina pauses, her eyes focusing on Emma's center.

"Negotiations?" the blonde offers. She nods and Emma chuckles. "A half hour ago, you said I was underdressed."

The other woman arches an eyebrow. "A half hour ago, I was going to shoot you."

Emma eyes her for a moment. "You weren't going to shoot me."

"And you're sure about that?"

"Yes."

"Miss Swan?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't make me tell you again. You're overdressed."

Emma chuckles. "And you're bossy. Has anyone ever told you that you're bossy?"

"Yes," Regina replies. "Has anyone ever told you're obstreperous?"

"No, people mostly accuse me of being cantankerous, truculent, and intransigent." The other woman's look of surprise is enough to have Emma's shine with laughter. "Not just a pretty face."

"Miss Swan?"

"Yes?"

"Take off your fucking pants before I shoot you."

"See, bossy."

But her hands fall to the clasp of her jeans anyway. Slowly, she peels them off, her eyes never leaving Regina's. There's something there, under the dark smoldering gaze. Something that can't be named, that shouldn't be named. It's dangerous but enticing. They should both walk away but they won't. They are already in too deep.

"The shirt and bra as well," Regina orders, inching toward her. She slides a knee on her bed between her thighs, hand on her bare leg for balance. The rich timber of her voice would have had her doing anything she asked. So of course Emma reaches for the bottom hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head, before she reaches behind her to unclasp her bra.

"The ridiculous ponytail can go too, Miss Swan."

With a mock pout, Emma lets her hair down, trying to ignore how her nipples are almost painfully hard now. "I liked it."

"It made you look like a teenager."

"I thought you'd be down for a little roleplay. You, the sexy librarian. Me, the hapless student that needs help researching a paper on Georgia O'Keefe." Off of Regina's look she chuckles. "No? Too much?"

"You're an idiot."

"Yes."

The other woman doesn't speak after that. Her eyes slowly drifting over Emma's form as she lays almost bare before her, in just red panties. She swears she sees Regina smirk as she takes her in. But the snarky quips dies in her throat unspoken when the dark haired assassin cups her heated sex. Emma's head lolls backward, eyes screwed shut as she takes a deep, but shaking breath.

"So this partnership of ours…" Regina begins, her fingers lightly hovering over Emma's cotton clad center. "How is this supposed to work?"

"You just have to give me the name of the money," Emma pants. "I… I'll take care of the rest." The brunette's finger hooks inside the leg of her underwear; a teasing stroke of her hand against soft folds has Emma seeing stars. "Fuck me."

"All in good time, Miss Swan," Regina purrs, withdrawing herself completely. "But first, business." She leans in, draping herself over Emma. This close the blonde catches her scent. It fills her nostrils, making her head swim, and her vision foggy. She smells the soft floral scent of her perfume, the faint salty musk that was Regina, and of course, like an undertone, Emma can almost taste her arousal hanging in the air. She goes to touch her, almost desperate to feel the other woman on her tongue again. But Regina shakes her head. "Easy, Miss Swan, we don't want to seem too eager. I might feel inclined to ask for more than what I'm due."

Emma smirks. "You wouldn't cheat me."

"Are you certain of that?" Regina asks, her lips brushing Emma's.

The blonde nods. "I'm in the business of reading people. I know who I'm dealing with. Why do you think I chose you?"

Their lips come together in a soft, unhurried kiss. Gone is that sense of urgency. It's almost like they have all the time in the world. Emma hooks a leg around Regina's waist, fingers threading through raven locks as she pulls her closer. Regina's heat waifs off her in waves and Emma can feel her slick against her thigh. She groans, hips arching into Regina. With that little movement, the kiss intensifies. And lips and teeth, and heated breaths exchanged as they battle for dominance.

As time slips away from them, Emma can feel the anticipation of her release coil within her. She pulls away to breathe and soon discovers that is the wrong move as the other woman latches onto her pulse point capturing the patch of skin between her lips.

"Oh, God," Emma moans, rutting against the other woman like she's in heat.

"I prefer to be called Regina," the brunette teases, her fingers drawing warm lines down her chest, skating over bare stomach before she dips under the band of her panties.

But then she stops, her hand torturously still, and pressed against the blonde's most sensitive parts. "Regina, I swear to God…"

"Patience, Miss Swan," the assassin whispers. "We're not done discussing the terms of her partnership. What do you need from me?"

Emma bites back a frustrated whimper. "I've already told you. All I need is a name."

Regina shakes her head, loosening Emma's grip. "I can't do that. We work through third parties. No one meets face to face."

Emma's eyes are shut, focusing on regulating her breathing so she can speak. Otherwise she might have caught the way the other woman hid her eyes when she talked, or how her breathing changed.

"An account number would be just as good," Emma says, swallowing thickly.

Regina lets out a sigh and the blonde mistakes it for contentment and not relief. "I can provide that information."

"Good." Emma coaxes her body against hers and captures her lips in a gentle kiss. She pulls away only to ask, "Regina, what's your exit plan?"

The other woman rears back to look Emma more squarely in the eyes, frowning quizzically at the blonde. "Exit plan?"

Emma huffs, trying to get a hold on her thoughts. "I mean, if you could walk away from this, say you have enough capital to leave this all behind, would you?" When the brunette hesitates, Emma reminds her. "Be honest with me, Regina."

After a long moment the other woman finally nods, affirming the gesture with a barely audible, "Yes, I would."

Brushing the hair out of her face, Emma searches her eyes for any signs of subterfuge. When she doesn't see anything, she smiles softly. "Then that's my offer, Regina. You tell me how much it'll take and I'll set you up for retirement, if you help me track down the dick that wants me dead. Deal?"

"Deal," Regina agrees. "Now, I suppose there's only one thing left to do."

"What?" Emma asks, unable to come up with the obvious answer.

Regina's reply is a finger gliding through slick, wet heat, groaning as she settles inside the blonde; who can do nothing but moan, her hips raising to her touch without another word, save for half-spoken swears, moans, and shaking breaths as her body acclimates to this welcomed intrusion. Her heart stops when Regina's hand flexes, her digit slowly sinking deeper until Emma's breath catches, before pulling out, only to repeat the process, over and over again.

It's slow between them at first. Regina's finger working in and out of her until Emma's a trembling mess, begging for more. But for all of her whimpering, the other woman denies her anything more than this gentle pace. Her lips ghost across Emma's, warm breath raising her skin in goosebumps. She wants more. She needs more.

"Regina, please," she pleads, her hips bucking under the other woman's touch.

"I like seeing this side of you, Miss Swan," Regina whispers, her lips falling to the patch of skin just behind her ear. Her words vibrate against Emma's neck causing the blonde to clench, holding the back of Regina's neck to keep her there. "Warm, wet, wanting… It's my guess that you're used to getting what you want, when you want it. But you like when I tease you, don't you?"

"Jesus fuck, Regina…" is all she can get out.

Her hand stills. "The truth, Miss Swan."

Emma licks her lips before she nods. "Yes…"

Her hand moves slightly and Emma bites back a curse, as Regina smirks. "Yes, what?"

"Fuck…"

"I need you to say it." Regina whispers in her ear. "Say it, I'll consider giving you what you want."

She tries to form the sentence but all that comes out in a pleading sob. "Regina…"

"Not good enough," the other woman says, her thumb swiping lightly over the sensitive bundle of nerves. "Tell me, Miss Swan."

"I like…" Emma huffs. "I like it… when… fuck! I like it when you tease me, Regina. But please… Please, no more; just fuck me."

"Is that what you really want?" Regina asks, her tone darker than her light and teasing words.

Emma arches into her touch with a groan. "Fuck, yes."

She thinks the other woman might make her beg, wind her up until she snaps, but Regina doesn't. Instead, with a self-satisfied chuckle, she adds another finger, pulling a surprised, but pleased gasp from the blonde, who eagerly raises her hips to meet Regina's ministrations. They find a steady pace between them, like falling in step to music. Only there was no rhythm or rhyme; no melody other than the sounds Regina pulls from Emma.

"Holy…" the blonde breathes, her hips canting against the other woman's hand. "Fuck. How do you- How are you… You're good at this. Too good."

An amused hum escapes the brunette as she snares Emma's bottom lip between her teeth. She pulls away, steadily applying pressure until Emma's body clenches around her fingers. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

It's not a bad thing. Or maybe it is. It all depends on perspective. Too much of a good thing never ends well. It was like that with Lily. And Emma can't help but see the similarities this time around. However, there are some differences too. And it's these little things; how guarded Regina is, the deep-rooted sadness she sometimes sees in her eyes, that has Emma intrigued. Lily had been an open book (at least in the beginning). Regina is an utter mystery.

"Not…It's not…" Emma's words fail her and she can't take it anymore. "Regina…"

"Yes?"

"I need… I need…"

"Tell me."

She can't. She wants to. But she's close, walking that fine line between sweet torture, and wondrous release, like she's balancing on a razor's edge. Emma wants to tell Regina exactly what she needs, how much she needs it. However, with her eyes unfocused, and her lips quivering, the assassin's unrelenting touch, her heated breath on her skin, and the warmth of her body against her own, renders Emma a wordless mess of clipped noises, and trembling limbs.

"I… Pl-… I…"

The other woman tries the usual tricks, change of speed, alternating between light and shallow, and hard and deep. Her thumb swirls over Emma's clit and although that is crazy amazing, it's still not what she needs.

"Are you close?" Regina asks. All the blonde can do is nod. "What do you need?"

Since the speech center of Emma's brain is misfiring, she decides that action is best in this case. Her hand trails down the other woman's slender body. She doesn't have time to do this properly, to take her time, to make this count. It's not like it was last night. This is just means to an end. An unorthodox contract negotiation to seal an unconventional alliance.

Maybe when this is over… Maybe in another life…

Her fingers slide through slick, wet heat and she groans. "Can I?"

"Yes…" Regina hisses. "Is that what you need?" A simple nod brings a smile to her face and Emma almost burns up right on the spot when the brunette tells her, "Then touch me…"

The second she feels Regina clenching around her fingers, Emma goes rigid, and with a loud, keening moan she tips over the edge. Her own hand stills as she rides her climax out, watching Regina as she tries to draw out every bit her orgasm. After what seems like lifetimes but couldn't be more than a few moments, Emma goes still and she laughs just a little.

"So," Emma draws out. "That happened."

Regina lets out a throaty laugh. "Yes, it did." With a playful glint in her russet brown eyes, she slowly withdraws herself, watching Emma bite her lip with a muted whimper. "Any regrets?"

It's Emma's turn to chuckle, fingers sliding away from Regina. She brings them up to her lips and draws them into her mouth. The two women moan in stereo; Emma relishing in this woman's taste and Regina captivated by the sight of her licking her fingers clean. "My only regret," Emma says, kissing her collarbone. "… is that I can't stay."

"You can't?"

Emma shakes her head. "I promised the kid that I'd take him to the arcade and a movie tonight. But if you want, I could meet up after I put him to bed."

Regina rolls her eyes and breaks away from her, straightening out her dress and re-ties it. "Miss Swan, you can drop the act. Nothing in your file indicated you having a child. If you have other plans just say so, there's no need for this charade."

Emma frowns. It's hard to be angry in the middle of post-orgasmal bliss, especially in just her underwear, but she manages it. She puts on her pants, replaces her bra and short, finds her jacket, and takes her phone out of one of it's pockets. After a few swipes with her thumb she stops and hands Regina the phone. "His name is Henry. His parents, were Mary and David Nolan and they knew me before… all of this. After they both died, I was all the kid had. So don't you dare question my integrity. I told you I wouldn't lie to you. And I haven't."

Regina blinks at her, bristling at her words. Then she pauses and looks at Emma like she's put something together. "David Nolan? Any relation to Albert Nolan?"

Emma sighs. "Yes, that's David's father."

"So you're telling that Henry's grandfather of the head of the Irish Mob in Boston?"

"Albert doesn't know about him. He never made the effort. As far as he knows David died childless just like his twin brother did." Emma notices the neutral mask that Regina's face has become. "What? What is it?" Still she doesn't say anything. "Regina, is there something I need to know?"

Before she could say anything there was a knock on the door. "Room service."

Emma glances at Regina. The obvious question lies unspoken in her eyes to which Regina shakes her head in response, so Emma signals her to get back as she goes for the gun.

Armed, she creeps toward the door. Her heart is racing, a rapid hammering in her chest, her lungs burn with each breath, and her nerves humming with an electric current she can feel just beneath her skin. This isn't her bag. Guns, fire fights, that was Lily's thing and while Emma happily went along for the ride, she couldn't keep up. Bullets make her nervous, and although she knows her way around a gun, knives are more her style. Something about being up close and personal just works for her.

If you couldn't stand to watch the light fade from someone's eyes, then maybe this isn't the life for you. It's been a minute since she's sent a person away with the Hard Goodbye. She's praying that she doesn't have to here. She's hoping that it's just her being paranoid.

But as she used to tell Lily back in the day when the occasional job went south and they were laying low, "Just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean someone doesn't want you dead." And in Emma's case, that couldn't have been truer.

"You can leave it by the door," she calls. "I'm actually about to take a shower. I completely forget I ordered room service."

There is a complete minute where Emma can't even breathe passed the silence. She won't shoot someone through the door but fuck, if it's not the least bit tempting. But before she can truly entertain that thought, there's a muffled voice on the other end of the door.

Male. Scottish? No - Irish.

"Alright. I'll just leave the trolley by the door, ma'am."

"Thank you."

Emma eases away from the door, gun at the stand by position. At Regina's quizzical look, she brings a finger to her lips, and nods to the bathroom. The other woman catches on quickly and heads there with Emma close behind.

Once in the bathroom, she eases Regina away from the door, and tucks her against a corner. Emma reaches into the shower stall and turns the hot water all the way up. As the bathroom starts to fog, she rejoins the assassin and waits. If this isn't just her hypervigilance playing tricks then this is the perfect place to stage an ambush.

Emma relaxes her shoulders and sighs. Maybe she is just being a touch reactionary.

Click.

The suite door opens. Heavy, booted footsteps draw closer. Her breath catches in the back of her throat and she readjusts her grip on the gun.

The bathroom is steamy and warm like a sauna. So when the door opens, Emma is certain that this person can't see the empty shower.

He points his weapon at the glass stall and pumps three rounds into the shower. The silencer suppressing the gunshots with a deadly whisper. She feels Regina flinch with every shot. And that's when Emma realizes something the other woman apparently already figured out.

This hitman isn't here for Emma.

The revelation hits her like a punch to the gut and fills her with a familiar kind of ire. She is going to kill this man.

Emma lashes out like a zap of lightning. She brings her elbow down on his arm and kicks the gun out of his hands. Before he can recover she slams her elbow into his nose. Emma feels the break more than hears it. The man groans and staggers back. And Emma is on him. But the hitman's survival instincts have kicked and he spears her into the wall. The impact knocks the air out of her lungs and the gun slips from her hand.

She beats on his back, and when that doesn't get him off of her she drives her knee into his gut. The man fumbles, loosening his hold. Emma thinks she's won some small victory until he rears back and punches her in the face. Her ears ring with the force of the blow. It rocks her head back, stunning her. She's in a daze when he spins her around and throws her to the floor.

Okay. This is it. Emma sighs. If only she had time for one last cigarette. Oddly, her concern for Henry is nonexistent. Ruby would take him in. And he'd be safe with her and her G-Ma.

"You're not the Evil Queen…" the hitman says.

"Nope." Emma replies. "Just a fan of hers."

He cocks his head to the side like a confused puppy and goes to speak but instead goes rigid and drops to his knees. It's only after he slumps to the ground that Emma registers the warm, wet spray of blood that hit her face seconds before.

She looks up and sees Regina still holding the gun in the ready position. Her arms are shaking, her lips are quivering as her eyes widen with shock, well with tears.

"Regina…" Emma whispers. "Regina, look at me…" She slowly, and cautiously gets up and crosses over to the other woman. "Regina, put the gun down. He's dead. OK? You can give me the gun now."

The other woman blinks as if her eyes are trying to focus. The tension eases from her shoulders and she finally lowers her gun.

"We can't stay here," Regina says. "We have to… I can't… "

Emma nods. "It's okay. I know a place you'll be safe."

"What about your son?" Regina asks. "What about Henry?"

"He's fine," she tells her. "This hitter was for you. Not for me or Henry."

"Emma…" Regina sighs her name. It's the first time she's said it outside of their bedroom antics. "That man was Graham Humbert. He works for Albert Nolan. Who is the person that hired me to kill you."

At first, Emma can't speak. Albert shouldn't know she's alive. He shouldn't know about Henry either. It just can't be possible. But looking at the anguished and guilty on Regina's face, she knows that it's true.

Shit.

"Miss Swan?"

That's all it takes; just the sound of her voice. (How could she have been so fucking stupid? How could she not have seen it?) Her blood boils and Emma lashes out, slamming Regina next to the nearest wall. She's yelling, demanding that the other woman tell her the truth - the whole truth. It isn't until she hears Regina wheeze that Emma realizes she has her hands wrapped around her throat. She pushes away from Regina so fast that she stumbles but she catches herself, spinning away from the other woman as she tries to get a hold on her feelings. Because even though every nerve ending is screaming to finish what she started, Emma needs Regina… For now.

"Miss Swan?"

"Were you ever going to tell me?" Emma asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "The truth, Regina. You owe me that."

"No. I was not. I couldn't." She can hear the hesitation in her voice as Regina asks her the obvious question: "So what now?"

"Grab what you need and let's go. We're leaving in five minutes."


Alright, a little throwback to season one. You know with Regina killing Graham and the "Your Move" line. Anyway, that was chapter three.

Thanks for reading. And as always, you can find me on my new tumblr "MurderouslyAdorkable" and twitter MurderouslyCute. Again, thank you so much reviewing, favoriting it or me, following my fict. It means a lot that there are people that like how I string sentences together. So yeah. You guys are the best. Keep it up with the reviews. I try to reply to all of them. :D

Here's a little bit of Chapter Four to hold you over:

Once they are gone it's Merida that speaks up. "Ok, I'm confused."

"If you're wondering why I'm still alive that's between your employer and I," Regina replies.

The Scottish lass shakes her head. "No. Actually... I was wonderin'..." Merida turns to Emma and shouts, "WHAT THE FUCKIN' HELL IS SHE DOIN' HERE?! DIDN'T THIS SHE-DEVIL TRY TO KILL YOU?"