AN: What now? An early update? Well, I'm going away skiing this weekend and next week so thought to post this before I go. Because of said ski trip the next chapter might be a bit late, though, but as usual, I'll do my best :) (Side note: This story is also on AO3, if anyone here prefers that site.)

Also, thanks for the reviews! I don't get a lot of them but those I get, I really appreciate ^^

There's still a lot of Regina, as the title suggests, and it's been great to finally focus a bit more on the main pair of this story :p


Villainous Pirate vs Evil Queen

It wasn't raining too bad but the wind and chilly night air that hit me in the doorway when I left the pub made it unpleasant enough. Of course I didn't have an umbrella with me – because I was me, and never thought that far ahead – and I was just having the regular 'is it worth to run?' discussion with myself when I heard someone call from behind.

"Swan!"

I spun around and there he was, the Irishman.

"I didn't see you," I said as he approached me.

"You were taking so long, I had to use the little boy's room."

That possibility hadn't even crossed my mind and I felt a bit stupid for rushing out so quickly, but since I didn't want to stand in the rain longer than necessary I went straight to the point.

"You owe me fifty bucks."

"Really? Come on, it was just a silly bet," he tried, reaching for my arm.

"You're impossible!" I exclaimed, throwing up my arms in frustration as I took a step away from him.

This happened to bring me pretty close to the brick wall of the building next to the bar, and I was not pleased when Killian stepped after me.

"Don't be upset," he said and gave me one of his familiar suggestive looks, leaning in even closer. "Perhaps there's some other way I could pay you?"

I bit back a frustrated growl, for the first time feeling a bit uneasy in his presence. Aside from us, the street was empty, and my only advantage if he tried anything would be his drunkenness. From what I had perceived he had been drinking steadily from his pocket flask throughout the evening.

"No," I asserted, looking him straight in the eye and not backing down an inch. "There isn't. There will never be any of that, ever. Is that so fucking hard to understand? I. Am not-"

"Hey!"

The Irishman and I simultaneously turned our heads toward the harsh voice and I couldn't help to feel a bit relieved upon seeing the mayor. Not that I let it show, though. I had the situation under control.

"What's going on here?" she questioned sternly, slowly walking closer with her gaze honing in on me. "Is he bothering you?"

"Relax, Mills, we're just-" Killian began, only to be cut off immediately.

"That'd be Mayor Mills, and I wasn't talking to you," she snapped, barely regarding him with a glance.

Whelp. My eyes flickered back and forth between the other two, who both seemed to be waiting for my response. I almost felt like I was eight again, standing in the principal's office trying to explain why the vicar's son had a broken nose.

My parents' fertility problems had hardly been a secret, their initial refusal to stop trying being frowned upon by some, and just a few minutes before I was sent to the principal's office, the vicar's son had called me a freak. He'd told me that I shouldn't have been born and rubbed the facts of my improbable existence in my face with a disgusted grimace. When I – hurt and infuriated – lunged forward, he jumped out of my way, quite ironically tripping over his own feet and stumbling face first onto the banister. Karma, right? To break his nose had never been my intention, nor could I be blamed for the incident since there were witnesses who confirmed my story. During the talk with my parents later they ensured me that I was not a freak, far from it. I was their miracle.

"Uh, I'm fine," I began haltingly, returning to reality and side-eyeing the Irishman. "Mostly. We were disagreeing about payment, for a bet. He owes me."

I would've told the mayor to mind her own business if I wasn't so curious to see how she would proceed. She didn't disappoint.

"Well, that's easily settled then, just give her the money," she commanded the leather clad man.

"You're not even gonna listen to my version of the story?" he said incredulously.

"This is Storybrooke, not storytime, so no, I'm not gonna listen to your pathetic excuses."

"I didn't do anything!"

The mayor flashed a false smile.

"Oh, I'm sorry, don't you understand the meaning of the word 'no'? Shall I explain it to you?"

"Bloody hell, if I'd known you'd gang up on me I would never have made that stupid bet," he complained and brought out his wallet, begrudgingly handing me the money. "I wouldn't have broken our deal, you know? I was just trying to negotiate the terms."

"A little late for that, perhaps," the mayor sneered before I got a chance to reply, and Killian shifted focus to her again.

"Well, it never hurts to try, does it?"

"I'd argue with that."

"You already are."

"Guys!" I said, interrupting the snappy exchange in front of me. "It's late, it's raining, so let's postpone any arguments till tomorrow, okay?"

"There will be no arguments," the mayor declared. "I'll give you a warning, Mr Jones, and if you don't improve your behaviour you'll soon be looking for another job."

"We're not even at work!" he protested. "You can't just fire me because you don't like me."

She scoffed at him, basically radiating self-assurance.

"You know very well that I can, and you should be grateful that I haven't already."

To this he had no comeback and I couldn't blame him. The mayor had a rather fiery personality, and as we all knew, clearly the means to go through with her threat. She did appear to have a thing for sacking people.

"Alright," he yielded, hands up in reluctant surrender.

"Good," she said with yet another false smile, one that she quickly dropped along with the pitch of her voice. "Now get out of my sight before I change my mind."

Killian muttered a few curses under his breath and gave me a knowing look as he turned around to leave, a look I didn't reciprocate. For once, I actually sided with the mayor.

"Making bets? With him? What were you thinking?" she hissed behind the retreating Irishman's back. "If this is how you plan to convince me that you are, in fact, responsible enough to look after my son, I'm sorry, dear, it's not gonna work."

"Not one of my brighter moments, I agree," I said and made an apologetic face. "I guess he brings out the worst in me."

"So it would seem," the mayor replied dryly.

I was thankful for the rain and cold wind that masked my sudden blush. She would just dare to bring that up again! Regarding the weather, the mayor's dark – and of course still perfect – hair was beginning to stick to her face and I could feel mine doing the same. We were both starting to get wet from the steady drizzle but fortunately I thought a moment before commenting on it. Starting to get wet, no thanks, I'd had enough of humiliation for one night. But I felt as though I should show my gratitude in some way or another, because she had actually saved me a lot of trouble.

"Thank you for, um, stepping in," I said, shufflingmyfeet and not really knowing where to put my hands. "And...sorry about the rain..."

She huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Like you control the weather anyway. If you did it world probably always be sunny, considering your apparent lack of proper rain gear," she remarked.

Was she referring to the circumstances of our very first encounter? It made me happy, somehow, that she might actually remember it as clearly as I did. Her brows then knitted together in a frown.

"Are you walking home in this?"

"Yeah," I replied and lifted my gaze to the sky, blinking against the many tiny droplets suddenly falling into my eyes. "But I'm thinking maybe I should run instead, to save some time if nothing else."

I looked at the mayor again, noticing the somewhat conflicted look on her face. She pursed her lips and gave a small sigh.

"I guess I could drive you," she offered reluctantly.

"You have your car here?"

She deadpanned at the idiotic question because obviously she had, otherwise she wouldn't have made the offer.

"Unlike you, I prefer motorized means of transportation," she said loftily. "Especially when it's in the middle of the night and the weather is disagreeable."

"You do have a point," I admitted, "but since tonight was gonna involve alcohol I thought it'd be safer to walk."

I gave her a meaningful look, hoping she'd view this as some kind of improvement of my character and not... Dammit.

"I mean, I didn't plan to get drunk," I clarified, instantly fearing that I was only making it all sound worse. "And I- I'm not! I just...thought I'd rather be on the safe side. Plus, it's much cheaper to walk anyway."

The mayor barely raised a brow in response to my faltering explanations.

"Well, you're free to walk home if you want to," she said casually and turned around in her usual, almostregal manner. "Or ride with me in my car. Whatever suits you."

I cringed at her words, glad she was moving away from – and not toward – me. Although there was nothing wrong with the phrase itself, it did bring me back a few nights, to the previous time I had thought about 'rides' with her. These inner translations had to stop. Everything about her had to stop! I didn't even like her! She was mean and selfish and cold-hearted and selfish and impossible and...offering to drive me home. I squeezed my eyes shut and sighed in defeat as I followed her lead.

"I think the car will be fine," I said, catching up with her. "But, um, are you sure you should be driving?"

No matter the discomfort of asking, it had to be done. I couldn't make a speech about alcohol and safety and then don't even check my driver. She looked completely clueless, though.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Err, well, you've been drinking, too..."

I trailed off, feeling awkward. She didn't reply immediately and her silence perplexed me. The question wasn't that complex. A simple 'yes' or 'no' would suffice. Not until we arrived at her Mercedes-Benz, the black vehicle covered in glimmering droplets, did she finally turn to me again.

"I appreciate your concern, Miss Swan, but all I've been drinking tonight is non-alcoholic apple cider," she disclosed with a tight smile. "I think I'm fit to drive."

Not the kind of answer I'd expected, but it'd do, too, of course.

"Oh. No problem, then!"

She gave a short nod and unlocked the car, and it was with a feeling of déjà vu I climbed inside. The engine whirred to life at least twice as smoothly as the Bug's had ever done and I relaxed into the comfortable seat, taking time to actually reflect on what she had just said.

Non-alcoholic. Almost as if being embarrassed about it, she had said, non-alcoholic. She clearly would've preferred to keep that detail to herself but there were countless good reasons not to drink alcohol, she shouldn't be embarrassed about that. Maybe she was worried it'd taint her image and – God forbid – make her look soft. Or... No, the likeliness of Henry getting a younger sibling seemed diminishingly small. One thing was sure, though. The mayor's actions tonight, the sudden change in behaviour, it really had been all her.


I didn't understand. Not in the car, not at home afterwards, not sweeping the corridors at fourth floor the next morning.

After realizing that no alcohol had played part in making the mayor open up to me I had curiously turned my head to look at her, as if the answers I was searching for would reveal themselves if I stared intently enough. All I had received, though, was a series of tentative side-glances.

"What?" she had demanded after a while.

"Nothing," I had lied, quickly averting my eyes out the windshield. "Just zoned out for a bit."

Then we hadn't spoken a single word to each other until she pulled up at my apartment, my 'thanks for the ride' battling with her 'you're welcome' for most strained utterance ever.

A sudden exclamation of my last name announced the presence of the infamous building maintenance worker. There was only one person who always greeted me in that manner.

"The renowned seductress," he added, and I whipped around so quickly I almost hit him with my mop.

The what now?!

"Oi, careful with that! I wanna live to hear the details."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I demanded, confused and irked at once.

His expression became smug – or rather smugger, considering his default expression was pretty self-righteous – and he moved to lean nonchalantly against the wall.

"You and the mayor seemed to get along pretty well last night," he said with a meaningful look and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Oh shut up, Hooker! We were just talking."

"Hooker," he mused. "You know, I have a suggestion."

I gave him an unamused look and put my hands on my hips, daring him to continue. Yeah, I bet he had plenty.

"Why not lose the last two letters and simply call me Hook? It makes more sense."

"Why? Cause you consider yourself a villainous pirate rather than a hooker?"

"Aye! I could even rename my boat the Jolly Roger."

I rolled my eyes at him and shrugged disinterestedly, resuming my task of sweeping the floor. It wasn't like I cared too much about his nicknames.

"Whatever."

"Enthusiastic as ever, dove," he said with a mocking grin.

"I'm not a bird," I growled through gritted teeth. "Has that slipped your mind already? Go pester someone else, I'm trying to work here."

He just laughed it off and pointed at his watch.

"Good thing the clock just turned eight, then. You're on break."

"Great," I sighed without meaning it, slumping my shoulders as I stilled the mop. "You better not let the mayor catch you bugging me again. She might just start hurling fire balls at you."

I walked over to attach the mop to my cleaning trolley and Killian followed closely behind.

"Indeed, she seems to have become rather protective of you all of a sudden. One might wonder why," he said smugly. "How did the rest of the evening go?"

"The rest of...?" I said with a frown, pushing the trolley toward the elevators.

"It was you in that fancy car of hers, don't try to convince me otherwise."

"Were you spying on me?" I spat, my voice raised in anger as I stopped dead in my tracks to shoot him an aggravated glare.

"Hey," he said defensively. "It was a coincidence, I swear."

"It better be," I muttered with narrowed eyes. "And for your information, yes, she did drive me home. It was the ten most awkward minutes of my life, probably."

I might be exaggerating just a tad but Killian needed to be convinced. He didn't look like he was, and he continued to give me knowing glances as we stepped into the elevator and began our descent.

"Look, I told you," I tried, wondering how in the world I would be able to get rid of him when not even the mayor's threat seemed to deter him. "We just. Talked."

"Yeah, but you see, that's the thing," he began importantly. "The mayor doesn't just talk to people. Not like that. She always has a motive, may it be an evil plot against someone or an attempt to make good connections. So, I'm curious. What does she want from you?"

He seemed so sure of his belief that I almost started doubting. What if she only was conspiring against me? But that did seem kinda farfetched. Our talk had felt genuine. It had.

"I don't know," I shrugged noncommittally. "It's not like she told me or anything."

"Well, just be careful. You can't trust her."

I raised my brows at the unexpected comment.

"Coming from you, that's just pathetic. Didn't you tell me not five minutes ago that you wanted to be nicknamed after a villainous pirate?"

"You got me, lady," he winked, sending a faint shiver down my spine. "But that aside, I'd dare to say I know her better than you do."

"I don't care how well you think you know her, I can judge for myself, thank you very much," I said sharply, just before the elevator doors opened. "And now, I'm gonna go have breakfast in peace."

With that I stomped off, foolishly believing that the Irishman would get the hint. He didn't. He never did.

"Why are you following me?" I questioned, my patience wearing thin when his tall figure came into view once again. "Don't you have better things to do?"

He didn't get to reply and we both halted abruptly at the fierce voice calling from behind us.

"Miss Swan! My office, now."

I groaned inwardly. What I had done wrong now? Was this the moment I would find out that yesterday had indeed only been part of some sinister plan? Was I gonna be fired again? Why was she even down here at our floor? My mind was racing and I looked up briefly at Killian, his usual smug expression back on his face.

"Go solve your little problem," he whispered with a wink.

Had our boss not been present I would've punched him in the face.