Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

Author's note: I've decided I'm only going annotate the 1930s slang that might actually be difficult to understand. Fact-wise there's nothing much to annotate this chapter.
The chapter title "Ill Wind" is a song written by Ted Koehler and Harold Arlen.


Chapter 3: Ill Wind

Regina drove back to the mansion as fast as her little car would go. Opening time was nearing quickly and she still had to share what she had learned at the diner, get ready for the night …

And get a certain blonde stranger out of her mind.

She stormed through the foyer and down the back stairs to where the club was. The house with its huge basement area had been a fantastic find, ideal for their purposes here in Storybrooke. She smiled at all the perks the house provided, which also included more than enough room for all of them.

One look around the club told her that everything was ready for the doors to open and she shot David a grateful look. She spotted Leroy through the open door of the stock room behind the bar and called him over. "There's a box of shot glasses in the car. Please get them all downstairs in one piece."

Leroy ran off and came back moments later, handling the box as if he wanted to marry it the next day. He put it on the bar in slow motion and grinned at Regina who couldn't help but grin back. Then he vanished behind a door before Regina could stop him.

"Anything interesting, boss?" David asked casually as he wiped a non-existent stain on the bar. Regina wondered if he hadn't found his real calling here in this set-up.

David saw Regina looking around. "Jones is fiddling with his kit. You know those skin ticklers." He whistled loudly and Killian poked his head through the curtain a second later, then came over slowly.

"I wish he remembered that's not his actual job." Regina nodded at David. "Has the Cricket shown up yet?"

David shook is head. "And Astrid is upstairs in the kitchen fixing some sandwiches for later before leaving."

"Good." Regina relaxed a little. They had been forced to hire some local people once they had opened the club but that didn't mean that Regina wanted them anywhere near their business. She gave Killian a look. "Would you mind saving Astrid from Leroy's sad attempts at small talk? Please remind him that his job is hunting but that doesn't include the local skirts."

Once they were all huddled together, Regina reported what she had heard at the diner. "This might be it, boys," she began. "Gold was there with Jefferson and a player from out of town. They were talking about a shipment on Wednesday but they didn't mention what they're shipping. Could be dope, could be guns. Jefferson alluded to a location by the water, so I'm assuming they stored the goods either at the old cannery or the adjacent warehouse."

David frowned. "We need to know what we're dealing with," he thought out loud. "We might have to call in some reinforcements."

"Which is why one of you will have to go out and check the locations tonight," Regina said reluctantly. "Gold will be here at the club, and I'm pretty sure he's going to bring the big cheese from out of town. I can't go because I have to entertain." She rolled her eyes.

"I'll go," David offered quickly.

"You can't." Regina looked almost apologetic. As her second-in-command he would have been her first choice if she couldn't go. "I need your eyes and ears on Gold tonight."

"Besides there's no one here who can serve the hooch as well as you can," Killian added. "I'll go. If you switch a couple of songs around, you won't need me. Just tell everyone I hurt my good hand." He held up his wooden hand with a wink.

Regina nodded. "Thanks, Killian."

"What if it's a trap?" Leroy asked.

"Valid question," Killian muttered when Regina shot the short man a look.

"I know," Regina drawled. "It might well be. Gold saw me at the diner and if he's even the least bit suspicious after all these months, this might be his way of getting rid of us for good."

They all were quiet, each contemplating what that would entail. Their silence was broken by a throat being cleared loudly.

Regina whirled around and came face to face with the blonde stranger from the diner. At once, her mind was running through a range of questions, wondering who the woman was, how much she had heard …

And why on earth she was so damn beautiful.

o o o

Emma enjoyed the crisp air this early evening in late April. It smelled of spring but there was still a tinge of the winter just left behind that made her glad she had her thick leather coat.

Granny had given her pretty precise directions and had actually apologized that Emma would have to walk there by herself. Emma had reassured her by saying she was no stranger to walking and that it would give her an opportunity to learn the layout of the town.

The walk took close to half an hour but Emma really didn't mind that. Her thoughts were on the beautiful brunette from the diner and who she might be. Her behavior had been a little off after she had talked to Granny but without any further information Emma had nothing to substantiate her weird feeling. It had looked like she had been very interested in what the three men in the booth next to her were talking about while tying to look extremely uninterested. It had made Emma's street smarts senses tingle.

She spotted the mansion from afar. It sat at the end of the street, quite a ways away from other houses. Good location for all sorts of things. Like Granny had said, the house was huge and looked too residential to be home to a nightclub. She remembered that Mike had said that there was no official sign anywhere, and she figured in a town this small it wasn't necessary. Besides, she thought, it probably had been a speakeasy not too long ago.

With no idea where to go, Emma shrugged and knocked on the large white door. It took a few moments but then it opened and revealed a small woman in a maid uniform. "May I help you?"

"Hello," Emma replied. "My name is Emma Swan. I'm looking for a Regina." The small woman opened the door a little wider and Emma stepped inside. "Granny sent me."

"Welcome, Ms. Swan. My name is Astrid."

"Astrid? That's an unusual name," Emma said with a tilt of her head.

"Not where my parents were born," Astrid replied with a smile. "Miss Regina can be found in the club downstairs." She pointed at a door. "Through that door and down. I would take you myself but I have something on the cooker."

"It's no problem, I'm sure I can find my way." Emma gave Astrid a final smile and walked towards the door. There must be another entrance. This is probably for employees and the lady of the house.

The staircase was dimly light and curved a little to the right but there was a light coming through a doorway that told Emma where she needed to go. The door was ajar and she could hear people talking close by. Out of instinct, she stopped behind the door to listen.

The voices were low and she couldn't make out too much but she heard the names Gold and what sounded like Jefferson. The men from the diner. She opened the door a little wider at the sound of the woman's voice. It was entrancing and she wondered if it was Regina, the nightclub owner, who was speaking. In her attempt to get closer to the voice she opened the door wider than she intended and saw no chance but to step through completely.

"… saw me at the diner and if he's even the least bit suspicious after all these months, this might be his way of getting rid of us for good," Emma heard the woman say, and she wondered what was going on here. She had a feeling there was something really fishy going on in this town.

What did I stumble into here? She thought it best to announce her presence if she didn't want to arouse suspicion, so she cleared her throat.

The woman whirled around and Emma's breath stopped in her throat. The woman from the diner. Damn it, Granny, you could have warned me.

"Hi," Emma said in greeting, giving the woman a shy smile. It was just about everything her fried brain could come up with. Why does this woman affect me so?

"Who are you?" the brunette growled. "And what are you doing here?"

Woah. They're definitely hiding something. Emma decided to try her luck with the truth. "M-My name is Emma Swan. I'm looking for Regina? Granny sent me over here."

Emma saw the two taller men exchange glances, and the woman before her seemed to consciously relax her shoulders at the mention of Granny's name. The shorter man was too busy looking at Emma's legs. What an egg.

"I am Regina Mills." The tone was marginally friendlier now. Still wary, but not openly hostile. "What can I do for you, Miss Swan?"

o o o

Regina tried to get her shaking hands under control but she wasn't having much success. This stranger, this Emma Swan was having a strange effect on her. At first, Regina had been angry at the possibility of having been overheard but as soon as her brain realized that she was talking to the blonde stranger from the diner, she felt her stomach fill with a swarm of butterflies. Well, that certainly hadn't happened in many, many years.

She could practically feel Killian and David shooting each other questioning looks at her off behavior. She should have kicked Emma Swan out by now, or at least ask her some hard question as to what she had heard. Instead, she had sent the boys off to their tasks and had taken the blonde upstairs to the mansion to talk.

"Can I offer you a drink, Miss Swan?" Regina asked. "Some cider perhaps?"

Emma nodded, not trusting her voice. She accepted the tumbler and took a quick gulp, and saw her hostess do the same thing.

"What was it that Granny thought I could help you with?" Regina asked again when Emma made no move to speak. She would have smiled at the nervous way Emma clutched her drink if she hadn't been so inexplicably nervous as well.

"Well, the thing is … I'm stranded in town for at least a couple of days and since Granny's inn was closed down by the mayor …" She shrugged.

"The mayor," Regina growled, "should stop harassing the good citizens and business owners of this town."

"Granny's is not the only business having trouble with him?" Emma couldn't help but ask. Was he running some kind of racket? Was that what the problem here was?

"No." Regina obviously wasn't willing to share more. "Granny hasn't done anything wrong, but Mr. Gold is a powerful man in this town."

"Maybe I could help?" Emma offered with a shrug. Just ask me.

"I doubt it, dear," Regina said softly, her voice taking on a slightly warning note. "In fact, it would be better if you stayed out of this and left this town again as soon as you could. It's for your own good." And mine. I can't have you distracting me from my mission.

Now Emma was even more intrigued. Why did this woman want to get rid of her? I could help her. "I will," she said, not sure if she actually meant it. The more someone wanted to get rid of her, the more she dug in her heels. That had always been the case, and that had always led her into trouble. "But I can't until I can get my airplane fixed, and that will take a few days at least, depending on the parts needed."

Regina raised an eyebrow at that. "You're an aviator?"

Emma grinned, suddenly feeling some of her usual confidence returning. The ladies always liked that part, and it looked like Regina wasn't any different. She smirked and stood a bit straighter.

Regina's thoughts, however, were going in a completely different direction. What if Emma was part of Gold's big deal? It was too much of a coincidence to believe that a beautiful woman would just suddenly get stuck here with a very convenient airplane while Gold was preparing a major deal. She needed to keep an eye on this woman.

Regina was torn out of her thoughts by Emma's next words. "Granny thought you might have a room for me for the duration of my stay, and I really hope you do."

She was good , Regina thought. She really sounded sincere. "Of course you can stay here," she heard herself say. The best way to keep an eye on this stranger was to keep her close, she told herself. "Any friend of Granny's is a friend of mine."

"Oh, that's great," Emma said gratefully. Whatever else was going on, she really needed a place to stay. "Thank you."

"No problem, dear." Regina put down her glass. "Let me show you to your room, and then I'll have to get ready for tonight."

Emma nodded and picked up her bag. She followed Regina up the wide staircase, looking around carefully the whole time. Her mind registered the details automatically. No personal items anywhere, no photos, no knick-knacks. Nothing that could tell her anything about the people living here. That was weird, in and of itself.

Regina stopped in front of a door she had opened. "I hope this room meets your requirements, Miss Swan."

Emma took a look at the fairly large room with a wide bed, a dresser, and a big wardrobe. "It more than does, thank you. And please call me Emma."

Regina just walked down the hall a little. "This is the bathroom," she pointed at a nondescript door. "You'll be sharing, I'm afraid." She didn't sound too worried about it, and Emma just nodded, not having expected anything else. "Not with the boys, however," Regina amended with a smirk. "They have their own."

They walked back to Emma's new room but before they got there, Regina stopped at a set of double doors across from Emma's room. "This is my room," Regina explained. "Under no circumstances will you enter it. Do you understand?"

Emma nodded, already planning to sneak into the room as soon as possible. "Of course," she replied. "Well, I guess I'll be seeing you later then? In the club?"

Regina raised an eyebrow and gave Emma a slow look from head to toe and back. "The club is at the very least semi-formal, dear," she said evenly. "Do you have anything in that bag of yours that fits that description?"

"Er, no," Emma admitted with a blush. "You see, when I packed this bag it was with an emergency in mind, not getting dolled up for a night at the Ritz."

Regina tapped her fingers on her hips. "Wait here," she said after a few moments and vanished into her own room.

Emma nodded and turned to drop her bag on the bed in her room. She shrugged out of her leather coat and uncurled the thin scarf she almost always wore. She sat down on the bed and moved up and down and sideways for a bit, realizing that this was probably the most comfortable bed she'd had in ages. She flopped down on her back with a sigh and closed her eyes, wiggling around a little on the soft duvet.

"Comfortable, dear?" Regina's voice held a faint note of teasing, and Emma had no trouble imagining the look on the other woman's face. "Here, you can choose from these if you decide to come downstairs." With that she dumped a pile of clothes on Emma's body and left with a soft chuckle, closing the door behind her.

Emma sat up to look through the pile Regina had left with her, and groaned in frustration.

Dresses.

She didn't do dresses. Ever.

Flimsy dresses. Elegant dresses. Short dresses, long gowns, dresses she would love to see on Regina. That thought led to wondering what Regina would be wearing later, and Emma imagined her in all sorts of dresses, one more exciting than the next. She imagined her coming closer, whispering soft words in Emma's ear. And then Emma imagined peeling the dress off of Regina. Slowly.

Emma groaned again, this time for an entirely different reason.

o o o

Regina stood outside Emma's room, listening to the frustrated groan, grinning wickedly. This woman could very well be dangerous, but that didn't mean she couldn't have some fun. "Welcome to the Queen's Club, Miss Swan."


Fun factoid: Emma assumes that the club used to be a speakeasy during the prohibition years. Since she's not from Maine and doesn't live there, she assumes that the prohibition is over, which would be true for most states. It officially ended in December 1933. However, Maine clung on to the prohibition until July 1st, 1934 (and started in the 1850s). And since the story takes places at the end of April, the prohibition is actually still very much in effect in Storybrooke. Well, as effective as a law can be that was broken round the clock by people from all walks of life. :)

Slang:
skin tickler - drummer
hooch - drinks, alcohol
speakeasy - bar that served illegal alcohol during the prohibition