A/N: Thanks for all the kudos and reviews, ya'll. My goal is to update this story every week like I used to during my prime BtVS writing days. It's an ambitious goal, but your kind words and enthusiasm keep me inspired. For those of you anxious for some SwanQueen sexytimes, know that I'm a fan of the slow burn, and good things come to those who wait.

This one's a little shorter than usual, but you'll see why I wanted to end it where I did. I promise a really long, juicy chapter next time around :)


As the elevator doors closed, Emma released a long, tired breath. She leaned against the back wall of the empty compartment and let her body sag. She had put on a brave face in front of Regina, but it was a lie that she wasn't feeling the aftermath of the previous night. It wasn't like her to stay out all night or to crash in the hotel room of someone who was practically a stranger. She was a mom. And moms didn't behave like that, not that she had much to go on.

Emma thought about the woman in the hotel room she'd just left. She didn't believe in things like Past Lives or Fate, but she couldn't ignore the peculiar feeling that they weren't exactly strangers to each other—a feeling that only intensified with each moment they'd spent together. It was probably for the best that Regina was leaving town.

The elevator reached the ground level, and Emma stepped out, heels clicking on the solid lobby floor. Once outside she pulled on her winter jacket over the dress she'd worn the previous night. Thankfully, the coat was long enough that it covered the dress otherwise she would have looked like she was taking a Walk of Shame—a classy Walk of Shame—but still one nonetheless.

She bit her bottom lip: Walk of Shame. She'd told Regina only a portion of what had transpired the previous night. She'd told her about the removed dress, but she hadn't mentioned the way her own green eyes had hungrily inspected and admired every exposed inch of smooth, flawless flesh, or how she had enjoyed too much the fumbled and unknowing striptease. It had been more than just simple admiration for a woman dedicated to physical perfection. It had been the lust of observing a tightened feminine abdomen as Regina had maneuvered her nearly naked body on the bed.

Emma swallowed hard as her brain replayed the visuals from the previous night. She lingered too long on thoughts about what it would have been like to grab the woman by her hips and to dip her tongue into the shallow indent of her bellybutton or to press butterfly-soft kisses along a dramatic collarbone that demanded attention. Emma's willpower had been shed along with the black and white dress, but Regina had passed out before Emma could fall down that rabbit hole.

And she had Walsh. She loved Walsh. He was a good man, and she wasn't the kind of person to cheat on a significant other, regardless of how devastatingly attractive she found the raven-haired woman to be. There was something addictive about the small-town mayor that was at odds with the life she and Henry had built in their one year in New York. The past few days had been an unexpected interruption from her routine, but Regina was only a piece of that.

Emma raised her hand in the air to hail a passing cab. Her other hand, stuffed in the front pocket of her wool jacket, curled around a piece of paper.

A yellow car came to a stop in front of her, and she slid into the backseat of the taxi.

"Where to?" the driver asked, glancing at his passenger in the rearview mirror.

Emma's hand tightened around the small scrap of paper. "89 Wooster Street."


Regina slipped oversized sunglasses over her eyes as she stepped out on the sidewalk in front of her Midtown hotel. If she had had a choice, she would have remained in bed all day, ordering room service and nursing both her hangover and her bruised ego. Instead, she was meeting up with Ursula to figure out what to do about Walsh and Hook.

The aquarium employee was waiting at a corner bakery, sipping hot coffee and picking at a blueberry muffin when Regina arrived. Regina slid into the vacant seat at the small table for two, sunglasses still firmly in place despite being inside.

Ursula's eyes scanned over the former queen, taking in her slightly disheveled appearance. Even a long shower hadn't been able to erase completely the remnants of a long night of drinking.

"Rough morning?" Ursula chuckled.

Regina hung her head. "I think your alcohol is stronger in New York than in Storybrooke."

"Or you're getting older," Ursula mused. "We're not 21 anymore."

Regina wrinkled her nose. "Don't remind me."

"So what happened last night?"

"I apparently got a little too aggressive with the mini bar," Regina admitted. "I thought I could out drink Emma—get her to pass out—and then find out what was on that piece of paper Hook gave her."

"Let me guess," Ursula smirked, "your little blonde friend was more resilient than you thought."

"Understatement," Regina frowned.

"So you still don't know what Hook is doing here and why he's been talking to Emma."

"No. But I will." Regina massaged her temples. "And in the meantime, I need you to keep an eye on this Walsh person. He practically throttled me two nights ago and told me to stay away from Emma. I think it was more than just the actions of a jealous boyfriend."

Ursula laughed, deep and throaty. "That man should thank his stars you don't have your magic."

Regina's lips pursed. There were many things that would have gone down differently since she'd arrived in New York if she'd had her magic.

"Last night, Emma and I were attacked by a flying monkey."

"Flying monkey?" Ursula's eyebrows rose on her forehead. "Was this before or after you got drunk?"

"Before. I know it sounds crazy," Regina's mouth twisted in annoyance, "but I know what I saw, and I'm nearly certain it was Walsh trying to scare me off."

"Honey, I've learned by now that just about anything is possible," Ursula remarked. "But if this world has had magic all this time, and I've been living on ramen, I'm going to be pissed."

Regina thought about the white crackle of energy that had been created when she'd touched Emma. When Henry had been in danger of being mugged, she hadn't been able to conjure so much as a spark, but she'd practically created lightning just from contact with the Savior.

She stared at a tea light on the cafe table. Its wick was white, never having been lit. She focused her energies on the tip of the waxy string. She corralled her emotions, pinpointing on anger, but the candle remained unlit. Regina pushed out a deep sigh when nothing happened.

"I'll text you the address of Walsh's store," she said. "Keep an eye on him and call me if anything out of the ordinary happens."

"Like if I see him turn into a monkey with wings?" Ursula chuckled.

"Exactly." Regina stood from the table.

Ursula looked up at the standing woman. "And then you'll take me to Storybrooke?"

Regina thought about Snow White and her reluctance to let another self-identified villain into their seaside town. But then she took in the rumpled, stained khaki uniform and the deep circles beneath Ursula's eyes. She observed the way shaky hands curled around a comforting cup of coffee. Once a force to be reckoned with, the former sea queen had been reduced to a far more humble existence in this land.

That could have been me, came Regina's sobering thought.

"And then I'll take you to Storybrooke," Regina vowed.

Regina still had no idea, how Ursula came to be in New York and not in Storybrooke with the rest of them. But she had enough mysteries on her plate for now.

Her phone rang in her coat pocket as she exited the corner bakery. She didn't recognize the number, but there was really only one person whose number wasn't programmed into her phone that could be calling her: Emma.

She answered the phone with mounting anxiety.

"Regina, are you still in town?" came the Savior's breathy question.

"Just."

"I need to see you."

Regina stopped on the sidewalk. "Emma, I can't—."

"I know you're a very important, very busy person," Emma hastily cut her off, "but this is important."

"How's Henry?" Regina worried aloud.

"He's fine," Emma assured her. "But I need to see you."

Regina hesitated. She was supposed to be avoiding Emma and her son, but she had no leads on how to find Hook other than wander around the largest city in the country and hope she randomly bumped into the pirate. She could just ask Emma outright about Hook.

"Where and when?" she asked.

"Boathouse. Half an hour."


For the second time in as many days, Regina found herself seated at a table for two in the famed Central Park restaurant and bar. Beyond the wall of windows, the small pond that surrounded the boathouse was frozen. It had been a mild winter and the thin ice was cleared of snow. In the center of the inlet was a rowboat with an evergreen tree sticking out of the middle.

Around her the quiet murmur of conversations filled the air, punctuated by the polite sound of eating utensils delicately moving against china plates. Her stomach growled as she waited for Emma's arrival. She hadn't been able to think about food earlier in the day, but now that a few hours had passed and her body had adjusted, she realized she hadn't eaten yet.

Regina looked up from the menu when she spotted a familiar flash of blonde hair. She watched Emma scan the intimate venue, looking for her. When their eyes met, a tight smile reached Emma's lips. If Regina hadn't known any better, it looked like beneath her black trench, Emma was wearing the green dress from the night before. She hadn't been home yet to change.

Regina stood up from her chair, a little wobbly in her heels. "Hi."

"Hey," Emma returned. She sat in the seat across from Regina and the other woman returned to her chair.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Regina reflexively offered. She lifted her head to catch the attention of a passing waiter.

"Just water, thanks."

"Don't tell me last night's got you shying away from alcohol," Regina teased. "You seemed fine earlier."

"I know." Emma raked her fingers through her hair, a wild nest of blonde curls. "I've got a pretty good poker face."

"Apparently."

Emma cleared her throat. "Thanks for meeting with me."

"Of course," Regina replied. "I was just on my way out of town," she lied, "but you sounded a little panicked on the phone."

"Well I'm glad you stuck around to see me." Emma clasped Regina's hand on top of the table. ". . . Madam Mayor."

TBC