A/N: Lovely reader asks, 'Does Hook have a Hook for a hand in this story?' No, he's two handed as of now, but that won't stop me from making puns. When I was contemplating options for the reason the first CS wedding was canceled at Disneyworld, I was going to have Mr. Killypoo have an unfortunate bachelor party golfing incident involving an Crocodile ala Chubb's from 'Happy Gilmore', then I decided that would be a tad bit cracky for this story… but if you'd like to imagine he lost his hand reaching into the jagged open mouth of a large reptile to fetch a golf ball be my guest.

"Don't you think it's dumb to spend so much time and energy planning for one day?" Emma looked relaxed, her hair was down and straightened, Regina noted. She had her chin propped up on her hand while she leaned on her elbow at Regina's desk and picked through a platter of greasy French fries with the other.

"And money," Regina replied to Emma's philosophical statement, watching the other woman dip her fries in a well of ranch dressing and pop one after another into her mouth.

"Yeah, like it's just one stupid day. I mean why spend so many other days waiting for just that certain one?"

"Careful, if you get any deeper you'll drown," Regina sassed and couldn't help but smile mischievously when Emma paused right before chomping onto another fry, turned her head and stared at her indignantly.

"What over fifty percent of marriages end in divorce," Emma threw her fry petulantly back down on the wrapper that was smeared in ketchup. It was a mess, and Regina hoped that greasy smear wouldn't be transferred onto her glass desk top, though she was already itching to grab the Lysol wipes and Windex out of her cabinet.

She gave Emma her patented brand of special side eye, and took another bite of her salad: the salad that Emma had showed up to her office with as a peace offering of sorts after storming off and leaving Regina with the dinosaur and the dragon: Mary Margaret and Lily at the dress shop. She'd rather have a pastrami sandwich herself, but she wasn't going to turn away a free meal and Emma's company.

She wouldn't tell the bride this, but Regina had particularly enjoyed the moment when the sales woman asked Mary Margaret to hand over her credit card to the tune of $795 worth of bridal lingerie that Emma had taken off while wearing. Regina liked to think she was such a financially successful wedding planner because she naturally had very expensive taste, and easily able to convince clients to splurge for quality. Of course, no one hired Regina Mills who was working on a shoestring budget anyway.

"So you said you had some questions?" Emma appeared calm and collected, but there was definitely an underlying tension permeating their meeting. They hadn't really talked about any of Regina's concerns with the bride since the day Regina had walked out on drinks.

Emma seemed to have forgiven her, but Regina wasn't so sure there wasn't something more going on.

"I was told your parents wished to spare no expense on this holy union between you and your manly man," Regina smirked, knowing she was irritating the woman seated across the desk from her. "I can't imagine how much money they've already lost on the first attempt of the wedding."

Regina held her breath momentarily, scrunching her eyes as she watched Emma shift in discomfort under the weight of her gaze. "I don't know…you'll get to meet him soon though, he says he wants to come to the food tasting stuff and help pick out the cake."

Regina picked up her bottle of root beer and took a long swallow in effort to refrain from making a tasteless comment. When she properly recovered, she replied with her best impression of calm pleasantness, "I have an appointment scheduled for tomorrow afternoon with the finest caterer in Maine. I'll plan a cake tasting subsequently."

"Cool," Emma's gaze shot back to her fries. "You know my mom is serious about the bird thing."

At that Regina couldn't help but roll her eyes. She pursed her lips in distaste, "I know enough about falconry to know it's best to hire a professional, and I doubt we'll have time to get a Falconer to properly train a bird to deliver the rings on cue. Some things will have to be sacrificed due to the compressed timeframe of your wedding."

Emma sulked a bit at that, rapping her fingers for a moment on the desktop. Regina felt herself tense at the sight. If there was ever a question that Emma had committed a crime Regina knew she could lift a perfect print from the grease stains the woman was leaving behind.

Then the quiet in the stark office became unbearable. There was unspoken tension and it made Regina feel edgy and anxious. She rifled through the wedding folder again. She almost never felt stressed these days about her job. Occasionally, there were circumstances beyond her control, which she hated, but she always knew how to deal with things swiftly and efficiently.

She handed Emma a napkin and she took it curiously, wiping at her fingers and running it over her mouth. Regina should have found it unmannered, but she found is blasphemously endearing.

Her attitude and feelings towards Emma were anything but orderly and calm. The chaos this woman seemed to bring about simply by sitting and eating French fries was both perplexing, and if Regina was honest with herself, intriguing.

She cleared her throat and Emma looked up.

"Since you're here today unannounced-,"

"I brought you lunch," Emma cut her off with accusation of ungratefulness laced in her voice.

"Well, since you've darkened my door today, and so nobly offered me food, I was thinking we could actually get some work done on this wedding of yours," Regina didn't like Emma's tone. She wished she understood why Emma was getting married to this Mr. Jones. It couldn't just be because her parents wished it.

"Okay, well, I don't care about the flowers as long as they are purple and white. That's what mom said, and no, um, lilies," Emma offered her one opinion like Regina was supposed to accept it as a peace offering.

She looked up from the paperwork, and let her eyes rake over Emma from head to toe. She lowered her voice, hoping to get back to the casual intimacy and open the gates for a deeper level of conversation. "So what do you care about then?"

The effect the simple question had on the bride was alarming. Emma shifted in her seat and rubbed her hands over her face as if she was trying to scrub away her feelings. It wasn't ever that easy to overcome feelings. She kept her own features even and fixed coolly on the woman in front of her.

She was squirming.

Emma broke the silence by sighing loudly, "You know the minister is my mom's therapist? How messed up is that? She wants Kill and me to go for pre-marriage counseling with Dr. Hopper, but why would I need him when I have you? You seem to want to psychologically analyze me every time I'm here. "

Emma flopped back in her chair, and Regina did the same. She mirrored Emma's demeanor, and pushed away the black plastic container with the remnants of her salad.

She crossed her hands over her chest, "Again, thank you for lunch Ms. Swan. I'm not attempting to trick you psychologically or other. I'm simply trying to understand where you're coming from and what you want. Need I remind you, you came to see me? So talk."

Emma worried her lip, and cast her eyes downward at her hands. Regina scooted up and moved to sit on the edge of her chair, and chastised herself for admiring Emma's beauty. The sense memory of her smooth skin encased in expensive silk drifted into her mind and her mouth suddenly felt cottony.

"Why don't we move over to my loveseat, and I'll start a little fire?"

"Cozy," Emma sniffed. "I printed out some sheet music for the string quartet; if you pass it along to the musicians my mom will never know its pop music."

She rooted around in her bag for a folder and handed it over to Regina, who flipped through the mess of papers, humming in thoughtful amusement, "String quartet arrangement renditions of 'Somebody I used to Know,' and 'Chandelier,' and here we have, 'Timber' by Pitbull, featuring Ke$ha. What a delightfully romantic selection, Ms. Swan."

"It all sounds fancy coming from violins," Emma added with a mischievous grin that Regina couldn't help but sharing in. So this was her sly way of rebellion, Regina realized. She hadn't been as aware for her own failed marriage; she had made close personal friends with the maddening feeling of extreme frustration and powerlessness instead. Emma may have a better grasp on how to handle such an arrangement, although she didn't seem much happier than Regina had been.

Lost in thought, Regina stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her slacks as she crossed from her desk over to her fireplace and ignited it. Emma cleaned up the lunch containers and tossed them in the trash. Regina sat down on her loveseat and watched as Emma nervously made her way over to the loveseat. Regina felt a slight dip as Emma gingerly sat on the side, pushing a throw pillow between them.

She didn't turn her head, but glanced at her from the side, "Would you care for a drink?"

Alcohol seemed to be the most effective short cut to eradicate the distance between them. Emma nodded gratefully.

Regina prepared two glasses of cider, part thankful and partly sad that she had such a clear schedule currently that she was able to dedicate so many daytime hours to drinking with a sole client. She realized that Emma must not work given her availability. She contemplated that question, but didn't ask.

"We still need to find you a dress, but perhaps we'll attempt another climb at that mountain next week," Regina said instead, unsure what to talk about, but finding she did not want Emma to leave.

"You know I keep asking myself why I'm going through with this, don't you." Emma started speaking in a near inaudible volume. She was speaking directly to her drink it appeared and Regina scooted closer straining to hear.

"I have wondered," Regina intoned, unable to ignore the obvious demeanor of despair.

Emma sighed heavily, and blinked several times, before she spoke again. Regina waited patiently despite her need to fidget under the weight in the room.

"When I was 17 I went out on my own. Though I could take on the world, you know?" She looked up briefly at Regina for approval. Regina lifted her eyebrows and encouraged her to go on.

"I…um… ended up getting in trouble…found out I was pregnant…."

"I believe you told me-," Regina bristled and stopped herself from interrupting, but Emma picked up on what she was getting at.

"That I'm gay? Yeah, I am…"

"But…you were impregnated and currently have a male fiancé…" Regina felt a blush rise on her chest. The fire was burning a bit too hot in the stifled room.

"I tried…I am trying to be straight," Emma inhaled and it sounded like she was carrying the weight of the world. Regina refrained from comment, fearing she'd pushed enough already. "I gave up my son because my parents thought it was shameful. My mom threatened to disown me, and I—at the time didn't believe I could give him his best chance. I had no money, no education."

"And now?" Regina took a long drink, her hand shook lightly. The images racing through her mind made her disdain for Emma's mother grow tenfold.

"It's the same thing all over again. I tried to forget about the kid. They took me back; I went to school, met lily, and then things seemed okay for a while. I don't know what happened, but then mom was pressuring me to get married, and if I don't…"

"Surely you can support yourself now without your parents' money?" Regina asked audaciously. She knew it wasn't her place, and she should stay in bounds, but the picture being painted was that Emma was living some lie to keep her trust fund.

"Yeah, it's not that…When they cut me off, and I didn't think I'd ever have family again…I don't want to face that rejection again. It's better to go along with their plan," Emma spoke and each word sounded pained.

"Take the family you have over having no family at all," Regina understood then, but Emma nodded and looked off into the fire.

"It's really hot in here." Emma shrugged off her jacket and downed the rest of her drink. Regina vaguely registered the movement next to her. "Maybe I should get out of your way. Sorry, I didn't mean to go on about my stupid problems. I probably sound like a whiner."

"No, dear, not at all…" Regina didn't want her to leave on this note. She needed time to process the feelings that Emma had brought up in her own being. She empathized greatly with the need to please a parent and have that secure feeling of belonging. A sense of home and family was something, sadly, Regina didn't have. She hadn't had that for a long time.

In effort to lighten the air, she tried to think of something they could do to break the tension. Her eyes flitted to Emma's long straight, golden hair. "Have you given any thought to how you'll be wearing your hair for the wedding?"

"Uh, not really," Emma responded in confusion. She looked incredibly tense, and Regina could tell she was wary that sharing her personal history had been a mistake.

"Come over here," Regina stood and walked across the room to the corner of her expansive office. She had a mirror with light bulbs over it and a little table and chairs. "Sit, down for a minute. I want to try something."

Emma sat at the station and Regina felt her eyes on her as she opened a wardrobe and brought out a veil. Hairstyling wasn't really part of the wedding planning job, but on occasion during a rainy wedding or a humid day, last minute touch ups were needed after the hair stylist had departed. Regina always carried a blow dryer, curling iron and flat iron for any needs that may arise. She also sometimes hosted stylists who did their test runs of hair and makeup in her office.

"How about we curl it, hmm?" Regina plugged in a curling iron and laid the veil on the table.

"Sure, I mean I didn't come here for you to do my hair," Emma tried to deflect, but Regina was sure that Emma needed this. It was something tangible and controllable, and something they could do right now to feel productive in the moment.

When the iron was hot, Regina took Emma's hair section by section and curled it into large bouncy ringlets. Then she fitted the veil and pinned up Emma's bangs into a soft bouffant in front. "Look, Emma. You're stunning."

Emma managed a weak smile and turned her head slightly. "It's not bad."

Regina took a breath, and looked Emma over again, her eyes fell on ripped line between her bicep and triceps and without thought she ran her finger up her bare arm and gave a light squeeze. Emma must spend a lot of time in the gym, she thought as she continued to appreciate her impressively sculpted arms. She worked her hands up and squeezed her rigid shoulders once. Then she squeezed once more with a bit more pressure.

"Take a deep breath," Regina brushed her fingers through the fine curls above Emma's ears and leaned close so her lips almost touched the shell of Emma's ear. She could smell the clean scent of Emma's hair and the light salty heat wafting off her skin. Her voice came out deep and velvety, "Relax."

She heard the sharp draw of breath Emma took in, and felt the ragged shiver run through as she straightened up and watched the blonde carefully in the mirror, all the while rhythmically squeezing at the tired muscles of Emma's shoulders until she felt the tension ease.

"Good, just imagine how beautiful you'll be walking down the aisle. You'll take everyone's breath away."

Emma hummed in dreamy agreement.

Regina worked her fingers in deeper, squeezing her trapezoids and rolling her thumbs over hardened and coiled belts of muscle. She felt the telltale grain of a knot above Emma's shoulder blade and held her finger over it, pressing hard. The breathy, indecent sounding moan Emma released took Regina by surprise. She stilled her hands and tensed as a bolt of heat rattled her nerve endings and hit her core with a sizzle of longing.

"Sorry, you just… wow!" Emma exclaimed as Regina redoubled her effort and worked her strong fingers down Emma's back, she watched as her head lolled back on her neck and she gave herself over to the relaxing massage.

"Feels good?" Regina was unable to keep the delight off of her face as she trained her eyes on Emma's face in the mirror. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes closed. She looked like she was in ecstasy.

"Yeah, it's really…nice to be touched," Emma spoke in a murmur sounding as if she was almost asleep, but the voice was silky and sweet and Regina wanted to hear her keep talking like that forever. She could easily imagine rolling over in bed and being greeted with a kiss a smile and a sleep coated 'good morning' coming from Emma's lips in that tone. The fire crackled from across the room and Emma's soft occasional moans punctuated the quiet.

"I could get used to this," Emma whispered in a new tone that sounded erotically needy to Regina's ears. She closed her eyes and lifted her hands from Emma's back with great reluctance. Then she curtly unclipped the veil and tossed it aside. Emma turned in her chair and caught Regina's wrist in her hand, pulling her in before she could turn away. "Regina, I want-."

And just like that, Regina found herself drawn to full succulent lips and half-lidded lust darkened eyes. She was under a spell and leaning in, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that Emma wanted to kiss her. She regained her senses, remembered that she was working with a client.

This was an appointment to discuss said client's wedding, not a seductive date. She cleared her throat and lunged past Emma grabbing the hand mirror from the table and holding it up as if that had been her aim all along. "Maybe you'd like to see the curls from the back? If you just turn and look here, you can see your hair in the big mirror."

Regina stepped back then and turned away from those saddened and disappointed eyes. She had to get Emma out of her office. She was walking a fine line that she could easily envision snapping if given any more time or close proximity to Emma and her damned aphrodisiac arms. She gathered Emma's jacket.

"I have another meeting now," Regina stuck out Emma's jacket and there was a pause before she stood from the chair and accepted it with a look akin to regret. "I think the curls suit your face."

"Thanks, Regina," Emma slipped the soft grey leather over her arms and flipped out her hair. "I'll see you tomorrow at the caterer's."

"Yes, at noon. Thank you for lunch," Regina smiled falsely and ushered Emma out of the door, not allowing her to turn back. Once she was gone, Regina closed the door and sunk against it, willing her heart to stop racing and the ache of want to subside. This was getting out of control.