I've changed the rating of this story to M. You've been warned.
Also, thank you so much for all your support!
Emma hesitated. She straightened her canvas. She hesitated again. She organized her paints. She hesitated…Stop it, Emma! Oh no. She was looking right at her. Regina Mills. Those dark fiery eyes were looking at Emma…into Emma. How much time had passed? Emma wasn't sure. Hmmm…how does one paint the great Regina Mills? Emma didn't even know where to begin.
"Any day now, Miss Swan," came that sultry voice pressing the reset button on Emma's thoughts. There were those eyes again. There was so much depth to that stare, she was sure she would drown. Emma's cheeks flushed a becoming shade of pink. This was not lost on Regina. Something unrecognizable flickered in the depths of those chocolate brown eyes.
Focus, Emma. Emma forced herself to break eye contact with Regina. She tried to focus on the woman as a whole. In the entire time she'd known Regina, Emma had never looked at her this long before. Regina sat stiffly with her legs crossed. She wore an expertly fitted gray dress with a sharp neck line that dipped low enough to be sexy and stopped just short of obscenity. Her hair was coifed to perfection except for one little piece that hung in front of her face. Emma felt the urge to brush that piece away. What?! No! This was Regina Mills. She was arrogant and cruel. She was…infuriating. She was without comparison. Suddenly Emma felt Regina's professional-yet-sexy attire didn't do her justice. No…Regina needed more drama than that.
A few hours later, Emma was finished. She put the final touch of red on Regina's painted mouth and turned to Elsa for feedback.
"Wow," exclaimed her critic, visually absorbing Emma's work. "It's incredible. What made you paint her like that?"
Emma had given Regina a flowing red gown with black lace embellishments, a black tiara, and dark dramatic eyes. She also exchanged the mundane leather couch for a crescent moon wrapped in intimidating brambles and gave the apple in Regina's hand an exaggerated incandescent glow. The Regina in the painting looked dark and mysterious, but also incredibly menacing. However, recalling the thought process that led her to paint Regina so dramatically brought a fresh blush to Emma's cheeks. "Oh it was simple really. Regina means queen in Latin," she said.
"Oh!" replied Elsa, accepting Emma's flimsy explanation. "How clever. This is so creative!"
"I think I'll be the judge of that," came Regina's voice from the couch. She had just finished stretching after having held still for so long. She walked slowly towards the painting eyeing Emma the way one would a court defendant awaiting the jury. Emma forgot to breathe.
Regina looked at the painting for thirty long seconds. Her expression was at first unreadable, but then a glimmer of emotion flashed across her eyes. Almost as soon as it happened, it disappeared and was replaced by a cold hard stare. "You've made me look like a drag queen, Miss Swan," was all she said before gliding out of the room.
"What's her problem?" asked Emma, still staring at the door.
"She's a difficult woman to get close to," explained Elsa sadly. "But, Emma, this painting really is amazing. You simply have to show David and Kathryn!"
"I'm going to get David now," announced Mary Margaret, popping up from her chair. "And there's nothing you can do to stop me!"
"They want you to do more?" asked Belle later that day. The coast of Maine was in sight so everyone had come out on the deck to watch the arrival.
"Yes," replied Emma. "They want me to paint another one"
David and Kathryn were very impressed by Emma's portrait of Regina. However, Kathryn felt the portrait would be better as a diptych. She claimed the painting didn't fully capture all that Regina was. Emma had given them Regina with the moon, now Kathryn wanted Regina with the sun as a counterpart.
"Just one problem," continued Emma, looking around to make sure the coast was clear. "Regina will never agree to it. She hated the painting when she saw it."
"That's crazy!" replied Belle, her blue eyes narrowing. "That painting is gorgeous. She should be flattered."
"She was the opposite of flattered."
"So what will you do?"
"No idea. Try to talk Kathryn out of it?"
"Can't she talk Regina into it? They are best friends aren't they?"
"Maybe. But even if she did, I'm not sure I want to paint Regina again." Just thinking about it made Emma's skin hum.
"Well, maybe you can talk Kathryn out of it then."
Emma sighed and sat with her friend in comfortable silence as they watched the yacht come smoothly into a small harbor and then into the Nolan's private yacht berth. How rich were these people?
"Where are we?" Emma asked, but her question soon proved unnecessary.
"Everyone!" announced David loudly, standing up on a chest, which likely housed life jackets. "Welcome to Storybrooke, Maine: the land of my birth and the namesake of the Storybrooke Art Gallery!"
An unusually sophisticated applause followed David's announcement before the guests started filing from the boat to the street where a line of shiny black sedans awaited them. Emma and Belle waited on the sidewalk for Mary Margaret to come out with David.
"Home sweet home!" exclaimed David excitedly, pulling open the door to one of the sedans and letting the ladies into the car. They rode in awkward silence for a while.
"So how do property rights work for you and Kathryn now that you're…you know?" asked Emma. She tried not to ask it. She knew it was impolite. But Emma had been wondering about this ever since she found out that David and Kathryn were divorced.
David laughed good-naturedly before answering. "We are partners in the art gallery so we share that. The house here is mine. It goes back in my family for generations. I had to flip a coin for it with my brother, but don't worry, he was more than compensated for it. Kathryn owns the yacht. We've just been sharing things for looks."
"And now that you've come out?" asked Emma, avoiding Mary Margaret's glare.
"We'll stop pretending if that's what you mean," began David, giving Mary Margaret a smile. "However, we do share the same social circle, and we've been coexisting for so long, we see no reason to stop doing things like this." David gestured to the line of sedans in front of and behind them. "That is unless Mary Margaret wants me to stop?"
David looked at Mary Margaret with soft puppy dog eyes. "Of course not," she replied, taking his hand.
"Look!" said David, glancing out the window. "We're here!"
The line of sedans had entered a long gravel driveway lined with apple trees on both sides. In the distance, Emma could see a large brick house surrounded by an impressive iron fence.
"Regina gave these apple trees to us," David explained. "Kathryn wanted pear trees like they have at Kensington Palace, but Regina has a mind of her own." Emma couldn't disagree.
The car stopped, and they got out. The air was so fresh and clean. It was completely the opposite of the gritty New York air Emma was used to: no weird food smells, no burning rubber, no partially decaying rubbish on the side of the road. Emma took a deep breath in.
"Welcome to Ruth's Farm," said David, looking proudly at the house and the grounds. "Home of the Nolans for one hundred years."
"This is a farm?" asked Emma, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Well, we may have expanded it over the years," David admitted before taking lead of the group to enter the large main house.
Emma was amazed. The whole house had beautiful hardwood floors, antique rugs, smooth white walls with intricate crown molding, and there was art absolutely everywhere. Emma wanted to stop and take it all in, but David kept the party moving. Mary Margaret had to pull Emma along by the arm whispering in her ear, "Later."
David gave them a cursory tour of the entire house-or more accurately stated, mansion-before assigning everyone to one of the many guest rooms. Emma was relieved to be able to share a room with both Belle and Mary Margaret. The last thing she wanted was to spend two nights sharing a room with a stranger…or worse…Emma didn't let her mind go there.
"Coming to dinner, Emma?" asked Mary Margaret, coming out of the bathroom. Her freshly cleaned hair smelled like lavender, and she wore one of her best dresses. Emma lay sprawled across the super king-sized bed still covered in salt from the sea air. She considered her friends offer. It involved sitting at a long table with twenty-odd rich people one of whom was Regina Mills.
"No, I think I'll just go to sleep," she answered.
"Suit yourself." Belle and Mary Margaret left Emma in blissful solitude. When she was sure she was alone, Emma jumped into the shower to clear her head. She remembered when her life used to make sense. When she was just a girl pretending not to have a sketchy past and working in an arts and crafts shop where the only people she had to understand were either her friends or four-foot-two and missing their front teeth.
Regina Mills was none of those things. Emma heard so many conflicting accounts of the woman over the past several months that she was positively bewildered. If her own experience was anything to go by, Regina was pompous and mean. In short, she was everything Emma couldn't stand. Yet, this morning…Emma tried not the think about the events of that morning. She tried not to think about Regina's penetrating stare, the way her clothes hugged all her curves, that rough husky voice…
Nope! Emma turned the shower to cold before stepping out. This was going to be a long weekend.
The next day, most of the party slept in. Emma, having gone to bed early, was wide-awake around eight AM. With no other options, Emma decided to go for a run. She threw on a sports bra and some running shorts before tiptoeing out of the house.
Despite the grandeur of Ruth's Farm, the town of Storybrooke was surprisingly small and rustic. There weren't many people out except those populating a small diner along the main street. Emma decided to run along the beach until she found a small wooden playground shaped like a castle. It looked like a good place to take a break.
Sitting in the castle, looking out onto the water, Emma noticed a small clumsy-looking "HM" carved into one of the wooden planks. She traced the letters with her finger and wondered whom the child was who left it there.
Ding! The clock tower in the center of town struck 11, and Emma realized people would be waking up by now. She quickly climbed down from the castle and began the long jog back. By the time she reached Ruth's Farm, it must have been nearly noon. The sun was high in the sky emitting a dry oppressive heat so that Emma was glistening with sweat as she bounded up the lawn. If she hurried, she could take a quick shower before lunch.
"Two more days, dear," came a woman's voice from behind one of the evergreens. Emma paused. The voice was gentle and kind. It sounded familiar, but Emma couldn't recall where she'd heard it before.
"I know," continued the woman, consolingly. "But when I get back we can spend the whole day together I promise—just you and me. I love you! Bye, Sweetie." There was a click.
Realizing the woman had hung up and not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, Emma tried to slip past. Unfortunately, she did so just as Regina Mills came out from behind the tree she had been leaning on.
"Miss Swan!" she gasped in surprise, her voice still light from her previous conversation before dropping back to its usual more cutting tone. "Why do you always show up at the least opportune moments?"
"I'm sorry," said Emma, wiping away a stray bit of hair that was stuck to her forehead. "Please tell me at which times of the day my existence would be most convenient to you."
"Sarcasm again," replied Regina. "Silly me for expecting a straight answer out of you."
"Yeah well I'm not exactly a straight thinking sort of girl," countered Emma, before realizing what she was saying. A new burst of heat erupted over her already glowing cheeks, as Regina's mouth parted in surprise. It was then that both women realized Emma was only wearing a sports bra.
"I should go get cleaned up," said Emma, feeling self-conscious. She slipped away without another word and didn't dare look back until she was safe in her room.
"Where were you?" asked Mary Margaret, lying on top of the covers with a book. "You missed breakfast, and you almost missed lunch. We're having a clambake in like half an hour!"
"I went for a run," Emma explained. "I had to burn off some energy. Now I have to shower."
"Okay, but hurry," warned Mary Margaret. "You weren't at dinner last night or breakfast this morning, David is starting to think you're miserable or something."
"I'm not! Tell him I'm having a great time!" replied Emma, feeling guilty. "I'll be ten minutes tops, I promise."
After her disappearing act, Emma was careful to go through all the motions of a happy and grateful guest at the clambake lunch. Emma was grateful for the casual nature of the meal because it meant everyone broke off into little groups, so she could stay with Belle, Mary Margaret and occasionally Elsa, while being as far away from Regina as possible. Emma didn't understand it, but that woman brought out the worst in her.
After lunch, Emma got roped into a game of volleyball with David and some guys, and the rest of the afternoon past with relative ease. Emma began to think she just might make it through the weekend in one piece, but that was before dinner.
The Nolans were the type of people who expected everyone to change into more formal attire for dinner and sit at their long mahogany table with starched napkins in their laps. Emma, who had a pathetic supply of formal attire, struggled to find something in her luggage she hadn't already worn. Belle and Mary Margaret headed down to dinner before her, promising to save her a seat. However, by the time Emma came into the dining room, the only seat left was the one right next to the single person she had been so carefully trying to avoid. It took everything Emma had to conceal her distaste as she sat down beside Regina Mills.
As soon as Emma was seated, Regina angled her self away from her and proceeded to ignore Emma the entire length of the meal. Even worse, as the bread plate was being past around the table, Regina deliberately skipped Emma, handing the plate to James Whale at Emma's other side. Not wanting to cause a scene, Emma sat through all of dinner in silent but simmering anger. She was very thankful when the meal finally ended, and she was again free to roam wherever she wanted.
Emma made a point of standing up before Regina could and strutting out of the dining room. She travelled down a long thickly carpeted hallway before finding a dark and deserted library where she could disappear for a while. Turning on a lamp, Emma directed her attention to the shelves, astounded to see several first additions of some fairly famous novels.
She had just started to calm down when she heard a cough at the door. Regina Mills had followed her.
"What?" asked Emma, annoyed. "Now I can exist? What is it with you?"
"What is it with me?" bounced back Regina, stepping into the room. Her eyes were dark and dangerous, and Emma had never seen her look so angry. "What is it with you? You're rude and prejudice and sarcastic. I bet you think you're so much better than everyone else!"
With each step Regina took toward Emma, Emma took one away from Regina, but soon she felt her back hit the bookcase, leaving her with nowhere to go.
"And what was up with that painting?" continued Regina, her rant picking up pace, "It was completely unfair! Is that really how you see me? God, how you infuriate me! I want nothing to do with you, but you're always here, always worming your way back into my life and my thoughts, and I can't take it anymore, Emma!"
"Wha.." began Emma but she was cut off when Regina's mouth collided with hers in an furious but desperate kiss. Emma lost all control. Her brain tried to tell her body to push Regina away, but the signal must have gotten lost in transit. Instead, she let Regina assault her mouth as she pressed herself so hard against Emma's body, Emma could feel the bookshelves digging painfully into her back. She even let Regina grab her hands and place them around her waist. It wasn't until Regina's thigh pressed aggressively against Emma's groin that she got back her senses.
"What are you doing?" gasped Emma, breaking the kiss, but remaining pressed between Regina and the bookcase. God, she smelled good.
"Same as you I imagine," quipped Regina, now pressing hot kisses along Emma's neck, sending a shiver down her spine. Emma almost accepted that response, she wanted to, but she just couldn't.
"No!" she yelled, and it took every ounce of will power to push Regina away. "I am not doing this!"
"Why not?" asked Regina, and for a second, she actually looked hurt, but only for a second.
"Because you're a terrible person! I think I'm so much better than everyone else? Please! You're the most pompous arrogant asshole I've ever met. And seriously? Do you really think insulting me is a way to get into my pants? And yeah, that painting is exactly how I see you! You're a villain, Regina. You think only of yourself, and you don't care who you hurt to get what you want!"
"How dare you say that to me! You barely even know me!" bellowed Regina, trying to sound angry, but her voice was beginning to shake.
"I don't want to know you! I heard what you did to Killian Jones. You destroyed his life, and yet you act like you've done nothing wrong! What kind of evil person does that? I decided long ago that you were the last person in the world I would ever want to be with!"
Regina just gaped at Emma for a few moments, her face a confusing mixture of emotions. "So this is what you think of me?" she said gently. "Thank you, Miss Swan…for your candor." And like a puff of smoke, she was gone.
