Regina drummed her fingers against the smooth walnut wood of her Mayor's desk in irritation, staring darkly at the three short men hovering in front of her.
"So what exactly do you expect me to do about it Leroy?" she snapped. "If you have an issue with Zelena, take it up with her."
The dwarf's oversized brows knitted together angrily, his axe swinging loosely by his side. "We tried that."
"And?"
Doc opened his mouth to speak, then clasped his hand over his face as a small blue bird flew out instead of the expected reply. A perfectly formed eyebrow arched up in surprise. A size 2 shoe stomped on the floor with frustration. Leroy raised his hands and squared up to Regina.
"See?! Ain't none of us going to talk to her again, not unless we want bunny rabbits and frogs legs falling out of our mouths!" He prodded the front of her desk with a fat, stumpy finger. Regina fought back the urge to prove her sister the easy going one. "We're not mining fairy dust for her, end of story. She's got no right coming down into our mines, she's got no right using magic on us, trying to intimidate us, trying to make us do what she wants. And she's rude! Insulting us about the size of our feet, about our you-know-whats… it's not dignified! You need to tell her to stop!"
Regina threw up her arms. It really wasn't worth the hassle. "Alright! Geez. I'll speak to her."
"And Doc?"
Regina cast a withering look over the afflicted dwarf. "Don't worry, I'll get her to reverse it."
"Thanks."
Turning on their undersized heels, the three miners took their leave, Regina momentarily glad for the peace and quiet. Momentarily, because as had been happening all week, once she had more than a few seconds to herself, her mind automatically returned to a subject she'd spent days trying to erase from her memory, a subject that made her temperature rise and her body crave all sorts of inconceivable things.
Since that night in the bath, since the moment the crescendo between her legs had spilled over, a symphony of delicious explosions erupting throughout her entire being, she'd been able to think of nothing else than Emma fucking Swan. In bed, in the shower, at the breakfast, lunch and dinner table, driving her damn car… if there wasn't something there to distract her attention, to fill her thoughts, then without fail she found herself front and centre of some heated daydream that involved the ministrations of the Dark One. And if the daytime wonderings were hot, her dreams come nightfall were practically incendiary. She'd woken up more than once on the verge of coming, her body alive, her nerves singing, muscles deep inside twitching, convulsing, crying out for touch. She hadn't given in though, she hadn't capitulated. She couldn't. What would she be inviting in if she did? What need would she be feeding, and what would she expect to satiate it? Better to nip this thing in the bud now, while it was still in its infancy, before it became some raging monster that drove her past the edge of sanity. Besides, quite apart from everything else, there was Robin to take into consideration.
Robin. She closed her eyes and pictured the man who had for the past few months, years even, been the one to drive her to distraction. The man who was her one true love, who even after all this time, all these mishaps, had still managed to make his way to her. Robin. The man who now excited her about as much as Leroy did.
She banged her fist down on the arm of the chair in anger. There was magic at work here, without a doubt. Why else would she suddenly lose interest in the person who was supposed to be her happy ending, purely for nothing more than a physical and mental infatuation with someone else? It didn't bother her that Emma Swann was a woman. Regina had had her fair share of lovers of both sexes, drawn to sexual energy and power rather than what did or did not lie between a person's legs. Perhaps that was it? Power. Sexual energy. There was no denying that as the Dark One Emma Swann practically fizzed with raw sexuality. Dominance over others had always been a huge lure to Regina, the need to either capitulate or capture and conquer driving her pheromones into a frenzy. And who better to dally with than a Dark One? She'd had feelings for Rumpelstiltskin when he was her mentor. It wasn't such a far stretch of the imagination to think that Emma might have the same hold over her as well. Yet this was different. This was far, far stronger than anything she'd had with Rumpel. This was intoxicating, debilitating, suffocating. This had her constantly on edge, sizzling with need, quivering with anticipation.
No. She pushed herself up from her chair, smoothing her jacket, ignoring the spitting rush of electricity as her fingers brushed against the swell of her chest. She was stronger than this. She was Regina, the Evil Queen, she'd cursed an entire Enchanted Forest for fuck's sake. She was not going to be undone by whatever it was that Emma Swann was doing to her, intentional or not. She flipped open her phone, punching #2 on the speed dial.
"Robin?... Yes… Yes, I'm sorry, I've been busy with work… You are?... Yes I'd love that... Ten minutes?… Ok, see you then."
Robin smiled broadly as she slid smoothly into the booth opposite him.
"Regina."
"Robin," she breathed, smiling easily at him. He smelt of the open air, of the woods, the forest, trees and earth. It was a good scent on him, one that usually drove her wild. She inhaled deeply. Nada. She pushed niggling doubt to the back of her mind and set her purse down next to her. "I'm so sorry I've been so busy lately."
"It's fine," he reassured her, "really it is. I know what your work can get like." He picked up a laminated menu, scanning it quickly. "I've been rather snowed under myself if I'm honest. The weather's on the turn, the lads are building up the camp to cope."
Why Robin still insisted on living out in the sticks when there were such things as heating, running water and beds, had never particularly made any sense to her. She'd accepted it though, even loved him a little more for it. It was part of his charm. Wasn't it?
"Cheese burger and chips please. Regina?"
He broke through her thoughts. "Sorry! Um… just a garden salad please, dressing on the side, with a sparkling water."
"So I was thinking…" he reached over the table and intertwined his fingers through hers. He may as well have been holding hands with a cold, wet, dead fish, she mused, lifting her eyes to his to give him her full attention.
"Go on."
"I don't have anything planned on Saturday evening, perhaps we could go out for dinner, catch a movie? I could spend the night at yours?"
"What about Rowan?"
"I already spoke to David and Mary Margaret, they said they're more than happy to take him."
"Fantastic." She flashed him a winning smile. "Fantastic. Yes sure! Why not? I'll see if Henry can stay over with them as well, that way we won't be interrupted."
Robin grinned, his eyes darkening at her suggestion. His thumbs rubbed on the top of her hands in soft circles. She willed herself to feel something, anything. She could do this. She really could. She just had to push through, concentrate on what they'd had, what they still had if she could just pull herself together, if she could stop the sensation of her skin crawling at his touch. This was Robin, this was her happy ending, her One True Love.
The bell to Granny's tinkled joyfully. The hairs on Regina's neck stood up on end. Her fingers automatically tightened around Robin's, the man taking it in completely the wrong way. He lifted her fingers to his lips, planting soft kisses along her knuckles, the bristles of his whiskers tickling irritatingly across her skin. She could feel the pull, feel the strength of magic calling out to her, wrapping its arms around her on powerful undercurrents that completely surrounded her. She threw her gaze down to the checker clothed table, gluing her eyes to the red and white patterns, refusing to look up, refusing to give in. Between her legs a swirling pool of heat and wetness drummed against her sex, a sudden force of electricity building up out of nowhere, the desire to be filled up, to be fucked, to be taken over almost too much to bear. With magnetic force, with unavoidable and unrelenting command, she found herself staring over to the corner of the diner, over to the jukebox, over to the door to the bathroom, over to the Dark One, straight into the malevolent eyes of a smiling Emma Swann.