When I picture you
I think of your smile
And it drives me wild
Your laugh escaping you
Your head thrown to the side
And it drives me wild
You carried romance in the palm of your hand
You called the plays for us
You clung to self-restraint, you followed the plan
You put the brakes on this
And it drove me
And it drove me
And it drove me wild
"Drove Me Wild" by Tegan and Sara
Sequestered - Chapter Seven
Emma's eyes flutter open before her alarm has a chance to wake her. She stares at the white ceiling above her hotel bed and lets her body indulge in the softness of the mattress. It's way softer than the one she has at home. Well, in the half empty apartment. She corrects, thinking of the place she used to share with her ex-girlfriend. The blonde sighs and brings her arm to rest under her head. Without warning, her thoughts turn to the brunette next door. Emma slowly closes her eyes, almost feeling the weight of Regina's kiss like a ghost against her lips.
Shit. Just the thought of Regina sends Emma's stomach plummeting. She reluctantly drags herself out of bed. All thoughts of Regina forced out of her mind, at least for the next 5 minutes... ok maybe the next 3. Emma pulls open the heavy white curtains covering the small window in her room. She squints as her eyes adjust to the hazy morning sun. Emma thinks about the city below her as she surveys the vast horizon like a royal taking stock of her kingdom. She wonders about the people - about what it's like to wake up in one of the houses off in the distance. She contemplates what that sort of predictability and stability would feel like. She sighs and lets her forehead rest against the freezing cold glass. A harsh reminder of the waning New England winter outside.
Saturday mornings are particularly dreadful for Regina. It's when she misses Henry most and feels desperate to be home with him. Saturday morning breakfast together has been replaced with Skype sessions. Seeing him, but not being able to hug him, makes Regina's heart feel heavy. But she knows she is lucky to at least be able to communicate with him this way, and it's because of Emma. Emma Swan and her gift of a phone charger. Emma Swan and her gift of entertainment. She thinks glancing at the iPod on the coffee table. She doesn't let herself think about what other things Emma Swan has given her. The intangible things. The things that, even in this short time, have started to change her. She admits that Emma has made her feel more alive than she has in ages. Regina shuts her eyes as if that will protect her from the unavoidable sting to come.
"What am I thinking?" Regina whispers to herself and shuts her eyes even tighter. She has let herself indulge in the fantasy too long. Regina is all too aware of the danger of that. . . of the harm in desire. Not that I desire Emma. She adds for her own benefit, since she is talking to herself. Regina stands from the couch and straightens herself. Pulling down on her silk pajama top as if it was a blazer and she was entering a meeting. She decides to join the rest of the jurors on a trip to a local art museum. Her hotel room is suddenly too small. Too confining.
"Regina?" Emma calls as she crosses into the brunette's room. No answer. She slips off her brown leather jacket and tosses it on the back of the sofa.
"Regina?" She calls again, but she can tell Regina isn't here. "Well, that's unexpected." Emma says to herself. The blonde hadn't counted on Regina not being in her room. She's always in her room.
Crap. Emma thinks as she looks around before taking a seat at the small round table next to the kitchen area. This sucks. She confirms after a few minutes of just sitting there with her chin resting in her palm. Another several minutes pass before Emma lets out a long sigh of defeat.
Regina had been studying a particular painting for well over an hour when the group is called for lunch. "The Carry by Andrew Wyeth." She whispers, letting her fingertips trace the small silver plate with etched lettering under the canvas. The mayor had expected to be bored to tears, but is pleasantly surprised to discover the art was not as pedestrian as she anticipated.
"These pictures sure are something huh Mrs. Mills." A deep voice with a faint southern drawl booms behind Regina. Her head turns slowly. Brown eyes narrow, ready to correct whomever has just spoken. She is nobody's "Mrs.," she thinks. Regina's lips curl into a snarl as her eyes penetrate the man now staring at his feet. Twinkle Toes, she confirms and decides to turn back around without ripping the dolt a new one, but the exchange has signaled the end of her desire to socialize.
In less than ten minutes Regina is in a taxi, escorted by a guard on her way back to her room.
"I hope you recover from your migraine quickly Mayor Mills." The handsome guard smiles as he deposits Regina at her door.
"Yes, I'm sure I just need to lay down." Regina smiles in return and the guard's cheeks flush bright pink.
"Well. . . um. . . if you need anything. . . I'll just be at the end of the hall." He stammers and scratches the back of his head nervously.
"Thank you. I'll be sure to remember that." Regina adds graciously, and slips into her room before he has a chance to say anything else.
The brunette can't help but emit a throaty laugh as she slides off her coat and turns to enter her room.
"You're back!" Emma calls from behind the kitchen counter and Regina nearly jumps out of her skin.
"What are you doing here?" Regina asks, hiding her surprise, but not actually expecting an answer. She lays her black wool pea coat and thick red scarf next to Emma's leather jacket.
"Lunch." Emma smiles, and turns her back toward the brunette to reach for something on the counter behind her. Brown eyes dart over at the table where Emma has put out a salad with what looks like chicken on top. She sees a bottle of sparkling water. Two plates. Two forks. Two glasses. Regina looks back at the blonde speechless.
"I figured you would only be able to slum it for so long." Emma says through her smirk, responding to the question Regina has only asked in her head. "So, I made you lunch." Her smile reaches all the way up to her radiant green eyes. "And this is for later." Emma says motioning for Regina to step behind the counter. Somehow Regina's stilettos carry her, even though her brain is still struggling to understand what she is seeing. . . what she is feeling.
Emma drags Regina by the wrist to move her faster, and the pair stops in front of a small chocolate mousse tart.
"Dessert!" Emma exclaims, gesturing with both hands at the small pastry on a simple white plate. "It's kind of amazing." Emma continues, not noticing, or not caring, that Regina is apparently dumbstruck. "But first," Emma rotates Regina's body toward the table, "we have grilled chicken salad with all kinds of sh- stuff." Emma clears her throat. "Um, you know ingredients." The blonde chuckles nervously, starting to wonder if perhaps this was a terrible idea.
Regina turns to Emma, and the blonde shifts her weight uneasily. Emma's eyebrows scrunch together waiting for Regina to say something. She loses herself in Regina's hypnotizing auburn eyes for a moment, but her hammering heart brings her back to earth. She knows Regina's eyes are searching her. She has noticed that the brunette is always doing that. Always looking for something – the blonde isn't sure what exactly, but she gathers that this lady has some major trust issues.
Regina doesn't know how to articulate the feelings that are building in her chest and bubbling up in her throat. She stares at the blonde fidgeting awkwardly in front of her. How is everything this woman does so . . . . She can't finish her thought. She lets the emotion pour from her in a hot rush.
"Are you like allergic to Chicken, because I can get something else or—" Emma starts to babble, but her words are cut short by Regina's lips on hers. It takes Emma a split second to understand what is happening, and wrap her arms around Regina's waist, lifting her slightly and letting the warmth of her body wreak havoc on Emma's senses.
Regina's hands grip Emma's face as she deepens their kiss. Her tongue pushing passed surprised pale lips. A moan rumbles in Regina's throat and Emma feels her knees go weak in response. The blonde pushes Regina against the counter, her thigh pressing into navy blue trousers. The urgency of the kiss matches the racing of Emma's heart. The heat in Emma's body threatens to boil over when she feels Regina bite down on her bottom lip.
"Fuck," is all Emma can manage when she feels the bite intensify. A white-hot current travels straight through Emma's core. The blonde counters by taking Regina's tongue between her lips and sucking hard. Brown eyes roll back, and Regina feels weak. She has never felt anything like this before.
"Stop. Wait." Regina heaves out breathlessly. The brunette peels herself off of Emma, but stays only inches away.
"What's wrong?" Emma speaks, trying to steady her breathing. "Did I hurt you?" She asks, moving a lock of brown hair out of Regina's face and tucking it behind her ear.
"No." Regina says moving out of Emma's arms completely. "I'm fine." Regina smiles her fake Mayor Mills smile, and Emma knows exactly where this is going. "Listen, I . . . we . . ." Regina stumbles for the right words and Emma moves back to lean against the opposite counter, both her eyebrows raised expectantly. Regina clears her throat. She is still breathless from their kiss. From the kiss she initiated. "We can't do this anymore." Regina says matter-of-factly, as if she were ripping off a bandage with her words.
"We can't do what?" Emma asks, refusing to make this easy for the brunette.
"This. This thing we've been doing." Regina continues rather inarticulately. "I think it's normal. We are trapped here. . . isolated . . . separated from everyone we know, and-"
"You think what is normal?" Emma cuts her off and crosses her arms over her chest. She watches Regina struggle for the words. She figures this must be a new experience for the politician, having no idea what to say.
"I believe you know exactly what I am referring to." Regina says more sternly.
"Oh, of course, that clears it up." The blonde responds sarcastically. Emma does indeed know. She is surprised this hadn't happened already. Regina's freaking out over their attraction. Emma had almost convinced herself that it wouldn't happen. That maybe they could just let this be without having some major conversation about labels and identity. The blonde does understand what Regina is feeling on an intellectual level. She imagines that it must be confusing and a lot to process, but right now Emma can only feel the pain of impending rejection, and she wants Regina to squirm. She can be understanding later, when the churning in her stomach has subsided.
"Listen, all I'm trying to say is that when two people spend so much time together, there is bound to be a connection, and maybe that connection can get a little . . . confused." Regina's throat feels dry as the words sputter out of her mouth.
"Is that what this is Regina? Hmm? You're a little confused?" Angry words lodge in her throat, but Emma holds back from saying anything hurtful, and instead glides to her door in a few long strides.
"Where are you going?" Regina asks pointlessly. It is obvious where Emma is going, but the brunette doesn't know what else to say. She doesn't know how to keep Emma in her room, or why she feels a strange panic in her chest.
"I lost my appetite. I'll see you around." Emma waves dismissively at Regina before closing the adjoining door more forcefully than she intended.
Regina is left standing in the kitchen. Her chest feeling tight and her head suddenly pounding. She leaves the beautifully prepared lunch on the table and drags herself to bed where she can attempt to piece together what the actual fuck just happened.
The next morning Regina wakes in a haze. She shifts under the sheets and realizes that she is still fully dressed. Her clothes now impossibly wrinkled. She is not awake more than a moment before the uncomfortable feeling returns to her chest. The conversation with Emma crashes through her like a freight train gone off course.
A mixture of regret and guilt continues to swirl in Regina's belly even as she showers and dresses. Her wrinkled clothing placed in a dry cleaning bag and left hanging on the bathroom door. Regina meanders to the living room where she notices Emma's jacket on the sofa. Her heart jumps, then sinks, when she looks around but finds no sign of the blonde. She picks up the garment and lets her fingers trace the collar. Emma was so upset she left the leather jacket behind. Regina confirms. I don't blame her. She thinks to herself. I mauled her and then behaved like a lunatic she concludes unhappily, and proceeds to clean up the untouched meal still set on the table.
Regina considers knocking on the adjoining door to return the jacket. She pauses, feeling a surge of embarrassment. The guise of returning the garment seems a too thinly veiled attempt at communication. Obviously it's not her only jacket and if she wanted it she'd have already come for it. Regina decides glumly.
With another sigh the brunette starts making herself coffee. Her brain racing on overdrive. Her mind hell-bent on introspection despite her best efforts to think of nothing. To think of anything other than Emma Swan and what the woman is doing to her. What she has already done.
"Oh for fucks sake." Regina mutters putting down the novel she's been trying to read all afternoon with limited success. Honey brown eyes rolling in annoyance with herself.
Regina hadn't noticed exactly how much time she spent with Emma. The dreadful truth only realized in the blonde's absence. The thought of her name sends butterflies dancing in Regina's stomach. That's it, she thinks, and in an instant Regina shakes off the cloud of indecision that had been vexing her for days. . . or weeks if she was honest.
She decides she will not wait any longer. This is not like her to sit around expecting someone else to do something. I'm Regina fucking Mills, she thinks with conviction as she stands.
"What the hell?" Emma mutters as she notices something move across the floor of her room. She suppresses the smile that pulls at her lips, and clears her throat making her expression stern. She refuses to give in so easily.
The blonde pushes at the folded over paper with the tip of her toe, as if that would give her a clue as to its contents. She retracts her sock covered foot and puts her hands on her bare hips. The black boyshorts she's wearing are particularly low riding, and her white tank top only comes down to her belly button.
Part of her wants to ignore the white rectangle and dispose of it directly in the trash without looking at it. The rest of her is far too curious for that, and finally she gives in. Emma bends over with a huff and picks up the note Regina has slipped under the adjoining door.
Dinner? Eight o'clock?
Emma can't help the smile this time. In fact, she doesn't even notice it.
Regina jumps slightly when she hears the knock at the door. She has grown accustomed to Emma simply barging in. The fact that she chose to knock at the front door is surprisingly disappointing for the brunette. She shakes it off, runs her hands over her grey pencil skirt to iron out nonexistent wrinkles, and strides to the door.
"Good evening Ms. Swan." Regina says, instantly kicking herself for the formality. She has had her tongue down the woman's throat and somehow Emma seems too forward.
"Hello Regina." Emma says with a smile and extends a bottle of red wine. Regina takes it with a small polite smile and moves to the side to allow Emma entry. She has stopped wondering how Emma manages to obtain these kinds of things. Brown eyes take in the heavenly sight of black skinny jeans, black boots and stripped blue long sleeve shirt. Emma is wearing her hair exactly how Regina likes it – loose and in waves around her shoulders. Regina swallows hard.
"I'm glad you came." Regina says quietly to the back of Emma's head.
"Well, I didn't exactly have other plans." Emma shrugs and saunters to the table, still unwilling to let Regina off the hook too easily.
Red lips curl into a smirk. She knows the blonde wants to be here. From the little Regina has seen of Emma, she doubts the girl does anything out of a sense of obligation. Regina is also fairly sure that Emma's feelings are hurt, and she deserves a little leeway, so she doesn't make a snarky comment in return.
Emma glances over to the two plates of something fancy served on the table. She notices the room service cart stashed in the corner. Emma takes the liberty of opening a kitchen drawer and retrieving the bottle opener.
"Would you mind?" Regina asks, handing Emma the bottle before the blonde can relinquish the corkscrew. Emma quirks her eyebrow and can't help but smirk. Regina trying to be a damsel in distress is obviously foreign, but strangely endearing. Emma silently opens the bottle and pours the wine into water glasses.
"Cheers." Regina offers her glass, and Emma tips hers into it making a clinking sound. The pair sips the dark red liquid silently until Regina finally speaks.
"Listen, Emma, about what I said yesterday. . . I—"
"You don't have to say anything Regina." Emma holds up her free hand. She had expected to at least eat a decent meal before Regina gave her the boot. "I get it." She says, raising her glass to take a gulp of wine.
"Please," Regina's voice is surprisingly soft, and catches Emma off guard. The blonde remains silent, but takes another long swig of her drink. "I have never . . ." Regina looks away as her voice trails off. The words are not coming as easily as she hoped.
"I understand Regina, honestly." Emma offers, now just wanting to put this awkward moment behind them.
"No, I don't think you do." Regina's eyes finally met Emma's, and she can't help but soften in her emerald green gaze. Regina has never known anyone whose eyes change colors so often, and every tone is equally captivating.
"I do get it." Emma sets down the empty glass. "You have never been with a woman right?"
"It's not just that-" Regina starts, but Emma cuts her off.
"Or someone that isn't some suit who makes a ridiculous amount of money, and has some kind of fancy and powerful job." Emma continues.
"I don't care about that-" Regina shakes her head, and Emma cuts her off again. She finds that she doesn't want Regina to let her down gently. Now she just wants to get this over with. Emma takes the liberty of refilling her glass, and Regina declines the offer of more wine.
"Oh right, I'm sure you've dated lots of tattooed bounty hunters." Emma scoffs sarcastically, her eyes rolling almost involuntarily.
"No, Emma, I admit that I have never met anyone quite like you." Regina says firmly. Dark brown eyes are narrowed and glaring at Emma. The blonde is meeting her gaze, accepting the challenge. Regina can feel her pulse beating hard in her ears, her skin flushed red from the rush of adrenaline. Silence and tension fill the space between them. Emma is the first to relent.
"Listen. I understand. This was a little experiment for you, and now you're done." Emma fills her glass again, leaving the bottle empty.
"That's what you think?" Regina asks with a furrowed brow. "You think I'm playing with you?" Regina finally sets her nearly untouched drink on the counter.
"Maybe not intentionally, but that has been the result. . . hasn't it?" Emma asks rhetorically.
"I can assure you, that I do not play games." Regina's tone is harsher than she intended. This was really not going at all how she expected.
"Maybe this was a bad idea." Emma puts her hands up in mock defeat, and starts toward the door. Regina feels the now familiar distress wash over her at the sight of Emma's departure. Her eyes shoot around the room nervously. She doesn't want Emma to leave. This wasn't what she had planned at all. Red lips part to speak, but the words fail her. Emma is already within reach of the doorknob.
"Wait!" Regina shouts, surprised at the unfamiliar desperation in her voice. Emma stops despite her brain's command to keep on moving. To get the fuck out of here before Regina can reject her any further.
Regina's fingers are cold as they wrap around Emma's wrist, just below where her long sleeved shirt ends. The skin-to-skin contact is electrifying. Emma turns, her heart feeling more injured than she expected as she looks into brooding brown eyes.
"What?" Emma whispers. "What do you want from me?" She asks softly as Regina moves in closer, her breath warm against Emma's cheek. Regina struggles with the words as she has done so often since she met Emma.
"I don't know how to do this." Regina finally speaks, her eyes brimming with unspoken sentiment. The words carry centuries of meaning . . . of pain. . . of heartbreak. Emma remains silent. Now she is the one searching dark brown pools for more.
"We don't have to do anything. . ." Emma's voice is barely a whisper. She's doesn't even know what that means, but it makes her feel like a teenage boy in the backseat of his mother's car with his prom date. "I don't want anything from you." She says, looking into Regina's eyes. That is what does it. Emma's words, in their simple honesty, force Regina's lips to close the small gap and press against Emma's mouth in a soft kiss.
Emma lets herself fall into the tenderness of Regina's lips. She lets her hands reach up and hold Regina's face. The tip of her tongue moving gently along Regina's bottom lip. All of a sudden it's too much, and Emma is overcome with the fear of another rejection tomorrow. Emma has never considered herself one for the lets define this relationship talk, but this is different. Emma finally admits to herself that everything about Regina Mills has been different. The blonde breaks the kiss, and leans her forehead against Regina's brow.
"Listen, I just can't keep going back and forth. I don't think I can take it. We can go really slow, but I kind of need to know if you're going to freak out on me again." Emma asks all at once, her chest heaving from the kiss and the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Regina closes her eyes. She lets herself take in Emma's perfume, and relishes the warm hands still cradling her face. Regina releases her grip on Emma's waist to run her palms along Emma's athletic back. After several moment of silence, Regina pulls Emma further into her. Chestnut eyes open to meet Emma's questioning glance.
"How slow?" Regina asks, sounding unexpectedly vulnerable.
"As slow as you need." Emma whispers, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. Regina closes her eyes again, her arms now wrapping around Emma in earnest.
"Well, we can start with dinner." Regina suggests, thinking of the now impossibly cold food sitting on the table.
"We can start with dinner." Emma repeats.
A/N: Thank you for reading! All mistakes are mine. I'm sorry for taking longer than usual to update. Work has been demanding, and I haven't had enough free time to work on this! So, this was initially two separate chapters, but I thought it would work better this way. ;) What do you think? I love the reviews and comments, so if you feel inclined please drop me a note! It really is what keeps me motivated.