A/N: Writing these two really is the best remedy for too much soul-destroying work! Hope you enjoy, and please comment!
When she pulls into the small parking alley around the back of the blonde's apartment building, Regina is surprised to spot Emma sitting out on the steps that lead up to fire escape. The younger woman pays her arrival no mind, simply continuing to contemplate the apple she holds in her hand with that hateful lazy boredom the brunette has come to associate with their new arrival. Switching off the car's engine, the Mayor scolds herself as she remains mesmerized where she sits as the blonde bites into the apple, revealing white flesh that contrasts shockingly with the ruby shine to its skin. Blinking rapidly as Emma deftly licks a trickle of escaped juice from her wrist, Regina growls, opening the door to her car and marching out onto the sidewalk.
"Miss Swan!"
"... Madame Mayor?"
Green eyes flicker up at her disinterestedly, and the brunette feels at a momentary loss of what to do as she realizes her arrival comes as no surprise to the younger woman. Stalking closer until she stands at the foot of the steps with her hands rested on her hips ,she glares up at the blonde irritably; her eyes flashing with malice.
"What in the hell do you think you're playing at!?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know damn well what I mean! My car! Look at it!"
"Oh that... Bummer."
"Miss Swan, you sort out this mess, and you sort it out now!"
The Mayor continues to scowl darkly as the younger woman raises an eyebrow and offers her a peculiar glance, a small smile touching her lips.
"As you wish..."
And with that she hops down from her perch on the top step, tossing the remains of her apple dismissively into the bushes and making her way swiftly down the stairs until she stands face to face with the brunette. Regina maintains a strict poker face, inwardly astounded at just how easy it has been to get the blonde to stand down and adhere to her wishes.
"What the hell were you thinking in the first place?!"
She grumbles irritably, uncharacteristically unnerved at the way the younger woman maintains cool eye contact as she continues to smirk smugly.
"Guess I just didn't much like what was being implied back at the Station."
"So you upended a bucket of filth onto my car?! Honestly, dear, that speaks more of childishness and guilt than it does payback."
"I have no reason to feel guilty."
"Oh please, you and Graham-"
"- Me and Graham nothing. I have no interest in the Sheriff. At least, not the kind you're implying."
"You expect me to believe you?"
"I don't expect you to do anything. I'm just telling you... It's nothing."
"You're telling me you harbor no attraction to anyone in this town... That you're completely innocent of-"
"-No. That's not what I said."
"What do you mean?"
"I said I have no interest in Graham."
"But you-"
"- Do you want me to sort your car out or not? It's getting cold and I want a drink."
"...Well...Then quit bickering and get to it, Miss Swan."
The blonde opens her mouth to protest, but decides it isn't worth it, choosing instead to shrug and tell the Mayor to sit tight while she finds herself a sponge and some soapy water. Regina sniffs and glares after her, searching for a suitable place to rest as she refuses to perch on the dirty steps like the younger woman.
Like a tramp.
Pursing her lips, she moves back to her car and ducks into its warmth and cover. She is already less than thrilled at the thought of anyone seeing her waiting outside the schoolteacher's apartment building.
"Of course it would be her that took in the woman... Of course it would."
She is pulled from her thoughts as she spots Emma trotting back into view with a large red bucket and a yellow sponge, her long hair whipping about in the wind curiously. The reason why she should find such a thing curious dawns on the brunette slowly and she frowns. Rather than donning an extra layer against the March chill, the blonde has shed her jacket back in the apartment; the t-shirt she now wears flimsy and white, just grazing the waistband of her jeans and capped high up her slender arms in a way that makes the Mayor shiver just looking at her.
Didn't want to get dirt on that hideous jacket?... It would have been no crime to ruin that thing, dear, I promise you.
She watches as the younger woman carries the bucket and sponge down to her car, her careless movements causing some of the water that sloshes in the red pail to spatter up and wet her top; the fabric sticking soggily to the firm flesh at her stomach causing the brunette to look away swiftly.
Placing the bucket down beside the Benz, Emma peeks up to find Regina pointedly ignoring her. Rolling her eyes, she swiftly dumps the majority of the warm soapy water over the bonnet in one swift flick of her wrists, causing the brunette to glance up in surprise. Paying her no obvious attention, Emma bends down to retrieve the sponge, inwardly thankful for the ridiculously extravagant hood of the Mayor's car.
It means she doesn't have to worry about her acting skills.
Wiping at the filth that coats expensive black paint, she works her way forward until she is forced to lean over to reach the areas closer to the windshield, subsequently pressing herself flush against the car, and allowing chilled water to soak her t-shirt instantly; the thin cotton sticking to her frame in a way that is uncomfortably clammy, but beautifully revealing.
Game on, Regina.
She wonders if it occurs to the Mayor that she could have just as easily moved round to the side of the bonnet to reach the area she now stretches herself out for.
It does.
The brunette clings firmly to her composure, observing the blonde expressionlessly as the latter struggles to access the areas high up on the bonnet. She wonders if she should suggest the younger woman simply move round to the side of the car rather than continue her idiotic endeavor, but is loathe to lose such a pleasing view.
Why are you watching her? What are you thinking?!
She snaps at her inner voice to be quiet, knowing full well that she should do all in her power to discard the warm excitement mounting low in her stomach as she continues to watch Emma go about her business. She thinks back to the photograph of the younger woman that had sparked such intense reactions in the first place and finds herself fantasizing in vain over the skimpy little number the blonde had worn when performing this same task all those years ago.
She finds she doesn't much mind Emma's current attire either when the younger woman stretches back up to wring out her sponge.
Wet white cotton plasters itself sensationally against lean muscle, the thin material turned ever so slightly translucent when damp.
Regina catches her bottom lip with her teeth as she realizes the blonde doesn't wear a bra.
Are you serious...?
Dark eyes continue to ravage sodden cotton, flickering up to study the younger woman's face as she goes back to her cleaning; a small smattering of foamy bubbles gracing her pale cheek.
The fact that Emma has negated to wear a bra given the fact she had seemed entirely unsurprised she should be requested to perform a task in which she'd most likely get wet plays maddeningly on the brunette's mind. Her own breasts feel firm and tight with unwanted excitement, joined mutinously by a growing ache between her legs. She finds it hard to believe the younger woman could be completely oblivious to just how much she has on display, despite her firm belief that Emma resides in a perpetual state of ignorance.
Such thoughts are dangerous... If you truly believe she bares herself like this consciously, then what would that mean?... What would-
She loses her train of thought as green eyes flicker suddenly up to find her own and the blonde offers her a small smile that is entirely free from innocence. Frowning as Emma moves her attention back down to the glistening bonnet, Regina runs her finger slowly over her lips before reaching for the door-handle and stepping from the car.
The blonde doesn't react to the fact the Mayor moves to stand behind her, simply carrying on with her methodical rubbing of the sponge. The brunette places her hands on her hips, her eyes roaming down to the younger woman's jean-clad ass which sticks out pertly as she leans over the car in a way that just seems a little too deliberate. Dark eyes flashing dangerously, Regina's tone is low when she speaks.
"What are you doing?"
"Washing your car, what does it look like I'm doing?"
Emma's answer is quiet, her tone easily mistakable for simple boredom but for a slight hitch in her breath. Throwing caution to the wind, the brunette moves to stand beside her, tracing a finger slowly through the icy bubbles that coat her car.
"That's not really what I meant, dear."
"What did you mean, then?"
"... You know what I mean, Miss Swan."
She almost inflects the end of her statement to form a question, but when the blonde rises slowly back up and faces her, she discards the last of her doubtful hesitation. Allowing her gaze to fall slowly to sodden cotton and pert breasts, Regina shakes her head slowly before returning her attention to glittering green eyes.
"Hardly the most appropriate outfit for the task at hand?"
"Oh, I think it's the perfect outfit for the task at hand..."
The Mayor raises an eyebrow, breath catching as the blonde's lips form a slow smile before the younger woman turns her attention dismissively back to the car.
"Is that so?"
"You tell me- ah!"
The brunette moves with sudden violence, grabbing hold of the younger woman's wrist and dragging her roughly into the narrow alley beside the building's storage space where they find themselves covered from view. Slamming the blonde ruthlessly against the wall, she pins her in place with her own slender frame, her breath coming out in short, harsh pants as her eyes flicker about her companion's pale face feverishly.
"What are you playing at?"
"I think you know."
"You think I know why you're displaying yourself like this? Like a cheap little harlot in the-"
"-Don't pretend you don't like the view."
"Like it?! Miss Swan, why on earth would you-"
"-You liked the idea well enough when you saw that picture... At least... you sounded as though you did. Tell me, what-"
The blonde's low drawl is cut off as scarlet lips crash violently against her own; the Mayor having deliberated angrily between slapping her and silencing her as sordid fury flooded through her veins. The brunette demands access aggressively, her fingers trailing wet fabric, before she pulls away and barks at the younger woman authoritatively.
"Take it off or you'll freeze. And I have no wish to get myself dirty."
"Oh?..."
The Mayor glowers as the younger woman strips off her shirt without a fuss; unsettled by the blonde's uncharacteristically coy behavior as it loses her the advantage she usually holds with her eloquence. She slams Emma back against the wall ruthlessly in reprimand, hands exploring pale, bare flesh dappled with goosebumps. Finding the younger woman's lips once more, she smirks as the blonde pushes her hips forward to press against her own.
Without breaking her aggressive kiss, Regina drags her nails roughly down the pale woman's stomach and wrestles with the button to her levi's, before snaking a hand swiftly inside tight denim to find tellingly wet lace.
The blonde makes a small noise of surprise- swallowed by hungry lips- as slender fingers slip deliciously into her wetness and play with her mercilessly. Squirming a little to allow better access, her breathing quickens as the Mayor's ministrations are savage and intense.
"Shit..."
Regina chuckles wickedly at the curious mix of pleasure and pain that chokes Emma's voice, and she finds the blonde's throat as the latter throws her head back against the wall. She tastes the pale flesh on display eagerly, growling appreciativly as the younger woman begins to tremble beneath her. Speeding up the divine torture of her fingers, she catches the blonde's choked cry with scarlet lips as the pale woman comes blissfully undone.
Stepping back gracefully, she studies the blonde with glittering eyes as Emma leans against the wall trying to get her breath back. Letting her attention linger appreciatively on flushed breasts and taut muscle, she plucks up the discarded scrap of the blonde's t-shirt and shoves it into weak hands dismissively.
"I hope you've learnt your lesson, Miss Swan. Don't play games you have no chance of winning."