The air in the security office is unbearably hot and stuffy. An old rotating fan at the ceiling clatters nosily with each turn, threatening to fall off any minute and repeat the famous fan massacre from 1982.
Emma can already see various local newspapers titling headline after headline: 'Sanguinary Fan Strikes again!' or 'American Sheriff Beheaded By Deadly Ventilator'. Emma chuckles slightly at her train of thought-her gaze falls onto the fan again, it screeches loudly-the chuckle dies in her throat. Out of the corners of her eyes she continues to watch it with more suspicion.
The fan manages to move the air around in the small room but does nothing to relieve her of the stifling heat. Sweat trickles down her back; her marine colored tank top is damp already, clinging to her body like a second skin. Despite the rhythmical ticking of the big clock on the wall across from her-that tries to tell her otherwise-it feels like she has spend half of the day inside these four walls. In reality it has only been three hours and sixteen minutes.
One-hundred ninety-six minutes or 11.760 seconds, if one would have the time to count.
11.761.
11.762.
11.763...
The cheesy security guy has left her alone an hour ago to ponder about her deeds -and clearly-to get a confession out of her. A confession for a crime she did not commit, but it seems to Emma that he does not care much about that at all.
Another possibility that crossed her mind is, that he might hope that she will die in this airless office, if he keeps her just long enough inside. Or maybe even the deadly fan-that by now has started to make soul-destroying buzzing sounds-is supposed to finish the job. And then the security guard would just need to bury her body somewhere in the tropical gardens of the pool-area... In pieces. Dispersed all over the place... Who knew how many people had gone missing already...
The door opens suddenly and Emma is pulled from her paranoid train of thought. Back into a fuzzy reality-by a wind of fresh air-that enters the room swiftly at the motion. The haze that has settled around her mind starts slowly to clear like a fog in the morning of autumn. Very slowly.
The only thing she makes out at first, is a woman standing in the door-frame-not entering the room. At least she believes it to be a woman than no man should have legs-or wear a daring skirt-like that.
Emma blinks against her blurry vision and the long, toned legs come slowly into focus. They must belong to the guards pretty assistant Emma muses, the one that had offered her a glass of water-which the security guard-his name is Bill, had ever so kindly declined for her.
However hard she tries-and it is not hard at all-Emma can't tear her gaze away. Her eyes travel higher, now taking in the short skirt the assistant is wearing under close scrutiny. The thin material shimmers slightly, hugging every curve, every muscle, oh, so tightly. So very, very tightly. The skirt - Emma would have called it a bigger belt, stops just a few centimeters before indecent. Not that she minds no, not at ..
"Miss Swan."
Emma's eyes snap up and the remaining fog is instantly blown away. God dammit. Unfortunately for Emma, it haven't the assistant's legs she has practically pestered with her eyes, but the one's of a very real Regina Mills.
She blinks and hopes for the blood-thirsty fan to strike now. It only screeches loudly. Damned thing.
Regina is staring her down, obviously waiting for a reaction that involves more than her mouth forming a small, perfect 'O'. The devilish upturn of her lips however, is betraying her rather stoic demeanor. Were it not for the lack of oxygen in the tiny office, the flush on her face could have been easily excused. Now it practically burns on her skin and her face turns to an unhealthy shade of crimson. This makes Regina smile even more.
"What do you want?" Emma is more than a little proud of the calm tone she is able to manage-forcing her eyes not to drop an inch below Regina's face. "Coming to gloat?"
"Hardly dear." Regina counters. She doe not stop smiling and it is unnerving Emma to no end. "I'm busting you out."
"Oh?" From all the things Emma expected to happen-this is not even near one of those possibilities. "How come?"
"Out of the goodness of my heart." Regina drawls, but even the spider that crawls on the ceiling detects this to be a lie.
"Bullshit." Emma directs her most don't-mess-with-me stare at the mayor, but the brunette only rolls her eyes, glaringly unimpressed-and turns around. She is out of the office one moment later, leaving Emma and the unmarried spider behind.
Emma stares after her, then realizes she is most likely supposed to follow, if she does not want to give Chucky the murderous fan-as she has named it- another opportunity to disembowel her.
"Henry bribed you into doing this." Emma says, slightly out of breath after having to jog after the mayor, to catch up. Nobody should be allowed to walk this fast in four inch heels.
Regina just gives a noncommittal huff and walks on.
"What did you tell BB?" Emma asks, not yet prepared to give in to the brunette's silence.
The mayor frowns, but curiosity gets the better out of her, "BB"?
"Bold Bill." Emma explains smirking. "He and I almost became best buddies over there.."
The mayor rolls her eyes, "I bet."
"Come on, Regina, how did you do it?" At the use of her first name, the brunette shots her a death glare.
"Whatever you may think, Miss Swan, we are not becoming 'best buddies', so please refrain from addressing me so inappropriately!"
"It is not like I've called you babe or hotshot, Regina!"
Hotshot? Seriously?
"Miss Swan, you'll stop this ridiculousness right now or I swear to god I will.."
"Mom? Emma?" It's Henry, barreling towards them through the small garden-gate, then flinging himself in Emma's arms. "Hey kid!"
"Where have you been?" Henry asks and Emma's gaze flickers to Regina who only raises a curious brow at her-as if she has no idea either-then back to Henry.
"Ahhh.. Well I just checked out the security system of the hotel, Henry, Sheriff stuff. You can never be too careful with things like that, right, Madam Mayor?"
"Indeed." Regina says, flashing her saccharine smile at Emma out of nowhere. "The world is full of perverted stalkers these days..." She adds, her smile never faltering.
"Right." Emma agrees reluctantly.
Meanwhile, Henry regards them curiously for a moment as both of his mothers stare at each other. He then takes both by a hand and drags them towards the house. Regina is too stunned that Henry has initiated physical contact with her on his own to complain about the Sheriff's presence and Emma had no reason to complain in the first place.
At least until Henry speaks up and she sees Regina's evil smirk at his question.
"What is a perverted stalker, Emma?"