A/N: The season has me busy, so the next couple chapters will probably be abbreviated. I hope you'll stick with the story, though! Happy Holidays to all!

Chapter 6

Regina stood in her kitchen, her eyes shifting from cabinet, to refrigerator, to oven, and then to the immaculate floor. The house was quiet aside from a muted thumping coming from above, which mimicked Regina's quickly beating and, she was sure now, arrhythmic heart. Henry had bolted upstairs as soon as the two arrived home, excited to have Emma over for his victory celebration, and before too long, he'd be downstairs and ready for company. And he would be hungry. And Emma would, too. And she'd be here in 15 minutes.

And she had nothing planned.

The Mayor tapped the fingers of her right hand on the counter and bit slightly on her left index finger as she considered options: have something delivered, take everyone out…

The corners of her mouth turned upwards as she considered the concept of eating out with the deputy. The silent pun wasn't something she could ignore. She exhaled slowly and gripped the marble countertop tightly, her eyes fluttering slightly.

"Okay, Regina, out of the gutter and back to the kitchen," she said to herself quietly. It was five o'clock and Emma had said she'd arrive around quarter after. The brunette wasn't really used to cooking, much less on such short notice, and she felt a culinary tempest brewing around her. She had to impress Emma, but how?

…

Emma was relieved to find Mary Margaret's apartment empty. She had neither the time nor desire to explain her itinerary.

"That's going to be an interesting conversation," she thought, imagining how she would eventually tell her roommate that she and Regina had formed an alliance. And were fucking each other.

"Okay, Swan, no. Chickens haven't hatched. Stop counting," she whispered to herself as she changed into a tighter shirt. "But, God, please," she added with a pleading tone as she looked into the mirror. Satisfied with her appearance, she ran into the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of wine, one red, one white just to keep her bases covered.

Bases. Her heart fluttered.

….

"I'll get it!" Henry exclaimed, sprinting from the smoky kitchen to the door.

"Shit, shit, SHIT," Regina chanted to herself, feverishly trying to fan away the smoke from the detector, which turned out to be an exercise in futility. She hadn't even heard the doorbell.

Unbeknownst to the Mayor, Emma had stepped into the kitchen and was admiring the brunette's backside. Regina had changed into a tight gray skirt and v-neck sweater, a transition which Emma hoped the Mayor had made in anticipation of her visit.

Henry had run upstairs for a minute and Emma decided to seize the moment.

"Is it just me, or is it a little hot in here?" she asked with a grin, using the cliché intentionally.

Regina turned around quickly as the alarm went quiet. Upon seeing Emma, she completely forgot the smoke and unprepared dinner. She stood there with her lips parted just enough to exhale audibly. Emma looked amazing, and by the confidence of her 'arms-folded, flat-footed' stature, she knew it. Both Emma's appearance and confidence sent a streak of electricity down Regina's body.

"No, it's most certainly hot," she said robotically, impressed that her brain could form words at all. It was working overtime, flashing picture after picture of the blonde in her bedroom, and then right here in the kitchen, and then in her office. And in each of those scenes, the blonde was underneath her.

She suddenly broke free of temptation's chains and shook her head subtly. She was supposed to be on top, especially in reality.

"Where's my son?" she asked, coldly.

Emma was taken aback at the Mayor's tone. It was so…emotionless, and reminiscent of their first few meetings.

"Uh, he went upstairs really quick, why?" the deputy asked, feeling significantly less confident than she had seconds prior.

Regina dropped the dishcloth she was holding onto the counter and took two steps toward Emma. She tilted her head and slowly dragged her gaze from Emma's eyes, down to her feet, and back up, lingering a few seconds on her exposed cleavage. She then leaned in so that her lips were mere millimeters from the blonde's tresses and whispered, "to answer your question more appropriately, it certainly is hot in here. But I think we're just warming up," she paused, exhaling into the deputy's ear. "Don't you?" the mayor asked rhetorically.

Emma resisted the urge to moan aloud.

Regina pulled away slowly, making sure to graze her lips across the blonde's jawline. The contact was so slight, Emma thought she may have imagined it. But the dampness between her legs convinced her that this was no daydream

"I uh…" Emma started.

"Mom!" yelled Henry, as he ran into the room. "Is everything ready?" he asked innocently.

She smiled confidently. "Not quite, sweetie. Why don't you go set the table, though, and help me out?"

As he left, Regina turned her attention to Emma and the bottles of wine in her hands.

"Why don't you free up your hands, deputy? There's a corkscrew in the drawer right in front of you," Regina suggested with an eyebrow raise.

"Red or White?" Emma asked, a bit out of breath from the previous excitement. Her hands fumbled with the corkscrew and her mind fumbled through trenches of memory.

Regina placed two glasses on the counter. "White," she instructed. "Red puts me to sleep, and I have no intention of going to bed early tonight." She stood with her back to Emma and smiled to herself. She knew good-and-well nothing beyond sensual flirtation would happen tonight, but a little teasing never hurt.

She heard Emma sigh from across the room.