AN: I must once again realize that all I can do is keep writing and the chapters will be finished when they are finished. My beta moved last week, as well, so I guess things will always happen. Anyway, here's how the bet played out!

Lipstick

"Hello!" I greeted briskly and hopped onto the bar stool next to the mayor, causing her head to whip around with a mix of surprise and annoyance on her face.

"Miss Swan," she greeted curtly before returning to her previous position. "What an unpleasant surprise."

"You're welcome," I said, trying to keep my voice light and casual despite the other woman's sour response.

I waited for a moment but other than her jaw muscles tensing she didn't further acknowledge my presence. Ten minutes. I just needed to get her to talk to me for ten minutes.

"So, are you, um...having fun?"

Jesus Christ, if that was the best I could do I might as well give up already.

"Ahem, stupid question," I admitted. "I just thought you looked a little lonely, sitting here all by yourself."

Although it wasn't the reason I had joined her, it wasn't a lie.

"Being alone doesn't equal being lonely," the brunette pointed out dryly, her eyes still set at the empty glass in front of her. "Did it cross your mind that the reason I'm sitting by myself might be because I actually want to be alone?"

"I thought about that possibility, yeah," I said truthfully. "But in that case, why don't you just leave?"

She was always doing as she pleased, so why would this be any different? What could possibly be keeping her here? She huffed before answering.

"I'm the mayor, I don't just leave whenever I feel like it."

"Why not?" I asked, confounded by her words. "I thought that was one of the perks of being top dog?"

At this she turned to look at me again, but, somehow, her eyes were different from before.

"Believe it or not, Miss Swan, but my power has limits. I don't rule over social norms. I'm expected to be here, to socialize, and right now I'm just taking a break from all these pointless conversations. Besides, as long as I stay the backbiting is kept at a minimum."

She demonstratively shifted her gaze back to the counter and I didn't know what amazed me the most, the revelations or her sudden candidness. I also felt a tiny twinge of guilt from what Killian and I had said about her before, but with the attitude she usually displayed she could hardly blame us.

"Well, that does indeed not sound particularly fun," I said, feeling...

Yeah, what? Sympathy for her? That was certainly new. And totally uncalled for. Did I have to remind myself, once again, that this was the Evil Queen and source of twenty percent of all evil ever born?

"I guess I'll leave you to it then," I said, realizing my mistake the moment the words left my mouth.

Crap. I quickly glanced over at the Irishman, who raised an expectant brow. The mayor and I could impossibly have been talking for more than two minutes, if this faltering exchange even counted as a conversation. With a heavy heart I began to slide off my seat.

"Back to Mr Guyliner?" the mayor scoffed suddenly, causing me to stop and snap around again.

Her upper lip was curled in disgust, bringing my attention to the scar she had there. Not for the first time did I wonder how she had gotten it, but she had asked me a question and I should focus on answering it.

Guyliner, that would be Killian. She wasn't hiding her contempt for the man any more than usual and I could only assume that seeing him with me had indeed served its purpose. Perhaps I still had a chance to get those fifty bucks.

"Not necessarily," I tentatively replied, shifting back into position on the bar stool. "I just...got the impression you wanted me to leave?"

She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes in her usual manner, then cast down her eyes with a sigh.

"No, that's alright," she said, a softened expression on her face.

Alright? Alright? Had the mayor really just, kind of, invited me to stay? And chat with her? Was she drunk or something?! It hit me then, with sudden realization, that she actually might be. Not drunk drunk, obviously, because she seemed perfectly coherent and her rudeness had been fairly intact, until now. But something was definitely off. This was not normal for her.

Since she wasn't looking I let my gaze drop slightly, continuing to study that scar of hers a little closer. It was mostly prominent above – and not on – her actual lip, possibly disguised by the plum lipstick she was wearing tonight. The shade was one of her darker ones, making great contrast to her skin, and I found myself wondering what it would feel like to kiss her, if the scar would-

"At least you're not hitting on me."

"Of course not!" I blurted out, my eyes snapping up to meet hers. "I mean, uh, right, I'm not."

My cheeks heated up as I realized she had caught me staring.

"What, I'm not your type?" she teased.

I gulped. How could I have forgotten about her new tactic to intimidate me? But I was going to play it cool, I just had to...be cool.

"I don't have a type," I bravely asserted.

"That desperate, huh?"

"Oh, come on!" I exclaimed, my supposed coolness faltering. "That's not fair."

The mayor looked down at her glass for the umpteenth time, twisting it some more, a self-content smile playing on her lips. Not the lips, I admonished myself, not wanting to be caught staring at them a second time. Then her expression grew serious again, doleful even, and for a horrifying split second I almost thought she would start crying. But of course – and thankfully – she did nothing of the sort. Just my imagination leaping ahead of me as always.

"Nothing is ever fair," she stated bitterly. "It just is. The sooner one learns, the better."

My curiosity for this woman reawakened. Clues, these were clues. The setting, the circumstances, they were perfect for a bit of detective work. I had to tread carefully, though, or else her walls would go up rather than down.

"I think you're right, in a way," I said generously. "The things happening in our lives aren't really good or bad, we only perceive them as such. It's all in the eyes of the beholder, so to speak."

The brunette squinted and raked her dark eyes critically over me.

"Perhaps you're not as stupid as you look."

This was the closest to a compliment I had ever received from her – except the one about my creativity, possibly – and I kept my snappy comeback to myself to avoid ruining the progress. Light and causal, I reminded myself before replying.

"Well, I try."

She gave a faint smile and with fascination I watched her wet her lips, as if building up to say something. Not the lips, goddammit!

"You don't...look stupid."

I arched my brows and blinked a couple of times. More almost compliments? If this was how she got after a few drinks she should definitely consider to drink more often. Or constantly, for all I cared. Never mind her liver, we all had to make sacrifices in life.

"I mean, stupidity has nothing to do with looks," she backpedalled, as if her recent confession had left her too exposed. "You're still a vexatious, careless klutz and I'm not impressed by any of your moronic stunts."

For a second there she had almost had me fooled.

"Yeah? So you won't admit that the flower thing was rather genius? Or that you stared at me and Ruby the whole time we were talking?"

"No, I won't," she asserted with a patronizing smile, "because it wasn't and I didn't."

There it was again, the glow. I knew I hadn't imagined it!

"Sure you did, but that's okay. You don't have to admit it in order for it to be true. We both know."

She sighed in response and closed her eyes as if to keep her temper. I had almost forgotten how much fun this could be, and apparently I had also forgotten about my investigation plans. Why could I never do anything right?

"If I get you another drink, will you let this go?"

Uh, what? There was literally no reason. She could just tell me to leave. I skeptically narrowed my eyes, thinking my mind must be playing tricks on me.

"Are you bribing me?"

"Yes, yes I am," she confirmed, the irony of it all seeming to be as striking to her as it was to me.

"By buying me a drink?" I questioned disbelievingly.

"Now let's not go overboard here, Miss Swan. I'm not buying you anything, simply using my mayoral privileges to get you another free drink so you'll do as I say."

It was so easy for her, she had clearly done this before. Nonetheless, I was technically receiving that 'special treatment' Killian had talked about earlier and it was a bit hard not to be excited. Those fifty bucks were as good as mine, but to be honest, money was the last thing on my mind in that moment.

"Ever since I became mayor, balancing things have been...tricky. I divorced Henry's father about the same time and, as you know, Henry spends every other week with him. It's not an arrangement I'm particularly happy with, especially not since I work so much. Even when Henry is with me, some weeks, I feel as if we barely see each other. I wish we could spend more time together."

I listened intently to the mayor while slowly sipping on my drink, trying to make it last as long as possible. She was making normal polite conversation with me. Finally. And somehow, it actually felt real, because I didn't think she would talk about her son with just anyone. It seemed to be a sensitive subject and I had been prepared to be snapped at when I brought it up, but she had surprised me once again this evening and just...started talking.

"That's understandable," I said, barely daring to speak in fear of breaking the magic.

"I feel bad leaving him alone at the house so much. He says he's fine with it but I have my doubts, he's just nine years old. I used to work more from home in the beginning but it didn't work out in the long run. He spent even more time with his father back then, not to mention his father's new girlfriend and later wife."

Resentment entered her voice and her expression grew dark.

"She was basically his babysitter there for a while. A painfully long while. Not that she ever put a foot in my house, I wouldn't allow it."

"Did you ever think about getting a real sitter?" I asked carefully. "I mean, one you picked."

"Believe me, I did. I still do sometimes, and then I imagine how they would also help out around the house, because the mayoral mansion is not exactly small. It's just that I don't personally know anyone suitable for the job and I don't want strangers into my house. It's never really been an option."

There was a pause and an idea took form in my head. I was probably crazy for even considering it, a fool for wanting it, and undoubtedly not in my right mind when I said, suggestively:

"Am I a stranger to you?"

A perfect brow rose.

"Why, Miss Swan?" the mayor said slyly. "Are you offering your services?"

The inner picture of helping little Henry with his homework quickly switched to images of explicit adult activities with his mother. Damn phrasing! I had a very strong feeling those kind of services weren't included in the job description.

"Uh-"

"We're talking about babysitting here, mind you."

"Obviously," I hurried to reply, trying to stop undressing her in my mind. "And yes, I'm offering to watch your kid. He's pretty cool."

While true, this was more about the mayor than her son. It was about my growing curiosity for the person she was deep inside, the one I had seen that day in her office before she fired me and everything went to shit. The one that had peeked through in a moment of weakness last Friday. The one I had seen glimpses of tonight, between sips on drinks that were now nearly finished. I kept telling myself I should stay away but it was not going so well. It was really not.

"Well, that's great," she said with feigned enthusiasm, "but you haven't exactly made the impression of being the most responsible person around. I can't have you two running around with knives and accidentally stab each other."

My jaw dropped at the absurd scenario and I felt more than a little offended.

"That's not even remotely realistic!" I exclaimed, and a satisfied smirk appeared on her face. "Totally unfair..."

I muttered that last part but apparently loud enough for her to hear.

"I thought we agreed that nothing is fair? Except perhaps Snow White, but she's not very realistic either, is she?"

Did she know about the name? The Evil Queen? She couldn't find out about it, not now when everything was going so well.

"My dad calls my mom Snow White sometimes and she's definitely real," I blurted out in a ridiculous attempt to change the topic.

A strong urge to bang my forehead onto the bar counter arose. Great work, Emma, just bring your parents into this. The mayor gave a small condescending laugh.

"And she calls him Prince Charming, I presume?"

"Actually, yeah," I admitted, a bit embarrassed. "My mom's maiden name was White, that's how it all started. They met and married young."

As if their age would explain anything. They were both slightly over fifty now and, in quite a lot of ways, actually, still acting like they were fifteen.

"How charming. But I must say, for a fairy tale princess you're rather ungracious."

"Please, my parents are just unbearably silly. And my childhood was hardly filled with rainbow kisses and unicorn stickers... Well, okay, maybe it was. Bad metaphor."

Her gaze suddenly felt too intense and I turned away and drained what was left of my drink to avoid it. I didn't have a problem with talking about my sexuality, but sharing details from my childhood was not something I was comfortable with, especially not with her.

"I don't think growing up is easy for anyone," she said thoughtfully. "We all have our struggles."

"Yeah," I agreed, because she couldn't have been more right.

My parents were – and had always been – loving and supportive of me. Still, I had struggled with the feeling of not being enough. I knew they would've wanted more kids but after all the miscarriages they went through before getting me, they had decided not to try again. For me to then come out as a lesbian, to see the worry in their eyes that there might not be any grandchildren either... It hadn't exactly been easy.

"So, about watching your kid," I said, switching back to our previous topic. "I know I haven't made the best impression."

I looked up at the mayor to seewhat she was thinking but her expression didn't reveal much. Her focus was on me, though, so I continued.

"You've seen me at my worst, really. I'm normally much more responsible," I assured her. "And, I actually have experience. My mom co-owns an orphanage and I've been helping out with the kids there at times, usually during the summers. Considering my current job it goes without saying that any extra chores wouldn't be a problem."

I paused awkwardly as I noticed her quizzically raised brows.

"Are you done promoting yourself?"

My cheeks flushed. Too eager?

"Well, if you change your mind, just let me know," I informed as business-like as I could. "Oh, and if you don't want me in your house he could always come to my place. It's...cozy."

Yep, definitely too eager.

"You mean crowded," she corrected.

"No, it's-" I began to protest, only to realize she had just said a few minutes ago that she lived in a freaking mansion. "I guess it depends on what you compare it to."

"I've seen your place," she reminded me, and I gulped at the sudden flash of memories that got evoked.

"Right, how could I ever forget..."

"Well, for starters, you'd had a little too much to drink. I honestly didn't think you'd remember."

"It was a rhetorical question," I groaned, very displeased with how the conversation kept going in – at least for me – unfavourable directions. "For your information I actually don't remember that much. Just...bits and pieces, and I'd rather not talk about it."

I wasn't going to admit knowing anything about that hug. Nope. Nuh-uh. As far as I was concerned, it didn't happen. The mayor let out an amused puff of air through her nose and I demonstratively looked away.

Without the pressure to get her to talk, the silence was mostly comfortable. Ten minutes, bah! Piece of cake. My eyes wandered to the Irishman but the couch where he had previously been seated was empty. Shit. How much time had passed since I last checked?

I dug up my phone from my pocket and realized it was getting late, at least for someone who – like me – had to get up with the sun. Where was that pirate? If he thought he could escape our deal he thought wrong! I scanned the bar but without success, and had to accept that we would have to sort the payment out another time. Not only was it late, but the increasing amount of droplets on the windows told me it was going to get very rainy, very soon.

"I should get going," I announced, turning back toward the woman beside me. "Early shift tomorrow, you know."

It wasn't like I needed an excuse but I didn't want her to think I was running away from her or anything.

"But, um, thanks for the 'mayoral privileges drink'. And the talk. It was, uh... Nice?"

"Yeah, I believe it was," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Don't get used to it."

Figures, I thought, with one last, compulsory glance down at her painted lips before sliding off the bar stool.

"Until next spring, then?" I said half-jokingly, earning a small smile and an affirmative nod from her.

Disproportionally happy for such a simple gesture I turned around and walked out of the bar. She could regress to evil queen tomorrow but she couldn't undo this evening, she couldn't take away the fact that she had opened up to me. The only thing that could've made it even better was if it hadn't been at a bar.