Knife Fight

by Avery Chase

Regina Mills is a successful heir apparent to Rupert Gold's massive restaurant empire. Emma Swan is a young up and coming pastry chef. The two rivals find themselves thrown together to launch a new kind of dining experience. I know little to nothing about restaurant running except what the net and TV tell me. Ongoing.

14. Love is A Battlefield

CHAPTER 15: Love is A Battlefield

Emma walked back into the kitchen, eyes scanning for Neal as she washed her hands. Her curious gaze was met with Killian's who nodded in salute. She blushed and shut off the faucet, drying her hands on nearby paper towels.

"I see our young upstart is making quite the impression." He mused, crossing towards her, a smirk on his face. "He's been on my side of the kitchen, trying to get us to change our way of thinking."

"Ordinarily, I'd be on his side but…"

"But?"

Emma shrugged. "It's slow here. We've both seen it. There's a certain clientele that comes here, they pay well, eat a lot and don't stay past closing time." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Maybe some things shouldn't change."

"How're things with her royal highness?" Killian asked, his head cocked to the side, his smirk blossoming to a full grin. "Is she still the she-devil of lore, or has she finally revealed a soft side?"

Emma swallowed. She'd spent the weekend around her, hung out with her son, called her to spill the details on a potential coup in the restaurant and here she was, be grilled about it all. "She's not as bad as I thought."

Killian arched an eyebrow. "Ah, so beneath all that awe inspiring fear is what? A wee thing with a heart of gold?"

Emma shrugged. "We just work together. I don't have to know her like that."

"Ah but you'd like to…" he teased.

"Don't you have rib tips to pan seer or something?"

"I do. Figured you'd like to come over to the dark side, since cake boy is flitting around stealing all the rum and making cookies with it." Killian groused, shaking his head in disappointment. "Such a waste." He led the way to the farther end of the kitchen, pausing for a moment to check the window leading out into the dining floor. It was the usual crowd. He sighed.

"What is?"

"The rum."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Alright Captain…"

Killian giggled as he headed towards the fridge. "What're we in the mood to experiment with today?"

Emma shrugged. "I think I'm good actually."

Killian's nose wrinkled in surprise. "Really, Swan? Have you truly learned everything there is to learn about the culinary arts?"

"Been spending time with Regina, so, yeah."

"Ahhhhh." The smile returned. "Regina's been teaching you." He busied himself with preparing more diced chicken for a salad. "What's she show you so far?"

Emma shook her head. "Nope. Not telling you."

"Aw, c'mon Swan. What good is it to be tailing me around on a slow day in the office while you're full of cooking secrets from a master."

"Master? What're you talking about?"

"She was on Iron Chef. Won actually. Scared the bejesus out of Cat Cora." He used the flat end of the blade to add the chicken into a plastic bin. "You didn't know that?"

"No."

"You had no idea that Regina Mills is an Iron Chef? None?"

"It's not something she brags about…"

Killian couldn't help but laugh. "You jumped into that little restaurant with one of the biggest killers in the business and had no idea?"

"It's not like I really obsessed over it all…" Emma replied, watching Killian do a poor job of dicing the chicken. "You should really cube that. You're practically shredding it."

"What?" he looked down at the cutting board.

"It looks like a mess. Here." She took the knife and cut a fresh cutlet, cubing it rather than slicing it. "You get more bang if it's an actual piece of chicken and not those skinny little pieces you were cutting."

Killian arched an eyebrow smugly. "Regina taught you that."

"So?"

"I taught you proper cutting techniques not that long ago and here you are, correcting my methods. It's the same thing I just did."

"Barely." Emma replied curtly. "Now, if you're done pretending you're doing work, can we go look at the books and start ordering for the week?"

"Of course." He bowed and waved her through, tugging off his prep gloves and washing his hands again in the nearby sink.

They spent two hours in the office, going through orders lists and shipping practices. Killian was dying to ask Emma what else she'd gleaned from Regina but resisted. He watched the way her eyes narrowed as she read through their list of typical orders, specialized menus and seasonal needs. It seemed that Killian was already keeping track of whatever Neal had proposed; their liquor orders doubled and their orders for flour and dairy had doubled.

"Hey." She said, pulling out the sheet of paper with the requests. "This is new."

"Ah yes. It would seem your friend Mr. Cassidy has a fondness for alcohol infused treats. We're just ordering a few extra batches to test a theory of his." Killian replied, keeping his face as neutral as possible, gauging Emma's reaction. "Said he'd talk to you about it, see what your interests were in the matter."

"Well, I'm not gonna be here much longer so it doesn't matter what I think…"

She eyed the paperwork skeptically. Regina wasn't going to be very happy if Neal managed to get Gold's approval on this. "You're the head chef, what do you think?"

"Honestly love? I think we need more co-eds in here. The stuffed shirts never order anything challenging anymore." Killian sighed, leaning back in his chair. "How many times can a person order steak tar tar or baked sole and pass on dessert?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "You don't make the desserts first of all and second, co-eds wouldn't order steak tar tar because they don't know what it is."

"That's my point. Neal thinks if we add a little something else, maybe we'll just…" he shrugged. "But I guess that's why you're on your little adventure with the Iron Chef."

Emma swallowed, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. She returned the paper and rubbed her now sweating palms on her thighs. "I dunno."

"Swan." Killian said.

"What?"

"The two of you are total opposites. She runs places like this in her sleep, runs most if not all of Gold's restaurants…then the two of you are put together at random? She shows you how to 'cook' then she what? Moves onto the next thing?"

"What does it matter to you?"

"You were terrified to leave this place, especially with her, now you're correcting my technique and questioning the way a place is run. Doesn't sound like you."

"We dated for a hot second and think you know everything there is to know about me?" Emma shot back. "Killian, you don't know me."

"I know that it's not like you to change your loyalties…"

Emma stood up. "Thanks for the help. I've gotta go work on some of those boring pastries you guys are so hot to get rid of." She left the office, pushing past Neal whose wide eyes darted between a disgruntled Killian and a very angry Emma.

"Bad time?"

Killian nodded.

"Musta been something you said." Neal replied with a grin, following Emma out into the kitchen again. "Hey, Em! Wait up!"

"What Neal?" Emma growled as she made her way over to the dessert prep station, hands balled into fists.

"I take it Killian did a lousy job of convincing you to give the menu change a go?"

"We weren't even talking about that."

Neal's eyebrows went up in interest. "Oh, so, what were you talking about…?" he asked, doing his best to sound as innocent as he felt he was.

"Knife technique."

"Sounds intense."

"Seriously, Cassidy, what do you want?" Emma asked in exasperation.

"Well, it was to see if you were okay because I know how big a pain in the ass Killian can be."

"He's fine. I don't need you to y'know come in and save me."

Neal nodded. "So about that knife technique…"

"I'm not going to be here much longer, Neal. I know the kitchen needs a united front to ask for menu changes; which means that the two of you are going to have to sit down like big boys and talk about what it is you want to do before you go to Mr. Gold. I'm not getting dragged into this."

"Right." Neal replied crestfallen. "Okay. Appreciate the honesty, really."

Emma's shoulders slumped. "But..."

"No, no buts. I get it. You've got a whole thing ahead of you and that's amazing…I guess…I guess I was just looking for an excuse to spend some time with you. Considering that you're leaving and all…"

"What?"

"Well. I asked you earlier but I guess you didn't catch it… about…dinner sometime." He said, hope coloring his tone, the right side of his mouth quirked into a lopsided grin. "I think it was somewhere in there with fancy restaurant thing…" he moved his hands between them in a, 'you know what I mean' manner. "Mighta buried the lead a little bit.."

Emma shook her head. "You were serious."

"Yeah. I mean, totally professional, unless you don't want to be professional, with respect…"

"I'm not crazy about fancy dinners."

"Me either. Bar food all the way, the greasier the better."

She said we needed research and intel. "There's a place on Third Avenue I've been meaning to try…"

"The Red Door Tavern?"

"How'd you know?"

"It's the only place that I've never been in on Third Ave. Also, the red door, total mystery."

"Yeah…"

"So. Are you busy tonight?"

I was planning on sleeping and maybe YouTube trolling to find those episodes of Iron Chef Regina was on but… "Nope."

"Great, so, uh, I'll pick you up at your locker?" He shook his head. "That was really high school. After shift I mean. Is that cool?"

"Yeah. That works."

"Awesome…" he nodded, the grin crinkling his eyes in a way that made Emma blush. He was cute, even if he was obnoxious. "So, let me show you this tiramisu that I started working on today…"

-I don't bore you do I?- Emma stared at the text message, the blue conversation bubble floating on her screen as she waited for Regina's reply; she had no real concrete reason for wanting an answer but it was a welcome distraction from all the conversation about baking she and Neal were currently embroiled in. He excused himself to use the bathroom, so she took advantage and bombarded Regina with questions.

-He's legit talking about baking. I don't think he's going after the restaurant after all-

After a beat and an agonizing amount of time lost watching the tiny ellipses on her screen like a lifeline Regina replied. -And this somehow baffles you. Did you think it was a date?-

Emma processes the question. Did she think it was a date? Was he treating it like a date? He had asked back in the kitchen, fumbling over himself to finally ask her and she was here, on her fifth Jack and Coke, feeling slightly surly and texting the last person on Earth she thought she would ever text. Well, he asked me while we were in the kitchen and it kinda sounded like he wanted a date.

-Is that what you were asking for?-

-What?-

Emma pictured Regina rolling her eyes in exasperation, the left side of her mouth quirked into a smirk.

-You accepted an invitation to a date I'm assuming.-

-You're assuming right. What're you doing?-

-I'm trying to understand the mess of a floor plan David sent over.-

-Oh. Send it over-

-You're in the email. You can open it yourself-

Emma rolled her eyes; even in text form Regina was stubborn and haughty.

-I'm gonna look at it. Am I supposed to arrange the walk through? Can't remember-

-How much have you had to drink, Swan?-

-Five. I'm being chaste. Having water- Emma took a deep swig of her water for emphasis.

-I'm sure-

She glanced back towards the rear of the bar, checking to make sure Neal was nowhere in sight as she opened her email, David's message the first in a slew of messages she was bombarded with. –I gotta check this more often-

-Yes you do- Regina text back curtly.

-Floorplan makes sense. What's the problem?-

-It doesn't flow-

Emma cocked her head, tilting her phone long ways to analyze the blueprints that David sent. –Sure it does. Entrance is where it should be, wet bar on the far left wall with the dining room, kitchen in the far far wall, downstairs for additional seating-

-It seems cumbersome to walk through everyone to get to a bar, which I am still not completely sold on. Kitchen is fine, the layout is irksome.-

Emma could hear Regina's irritation as a drunk college girl who giggled before she mumbled an apology and begged for water bumped her. –Yeah, maybe we'll have to set up a few things to test that out-

-I don't want to keep you from your 'date'-

-You're not. He's taken off somewhere.-

-Dine and ditch?-

Emma chuckled, she didn't peg Regina for someone with a sense of humor.

-No, pretty sure the lines are long for the bathroom or something-

-Men's room goes quickly-

-Maybe he has feelings-

Emma took another long pull of her water, the bartender courteously refilling the glass before sliding her another Jack and Coke "On me" she said with a wink. She stared dully at her screen, trying to scrutinize her conversation with Regina when Neal returned, a slopping grin on his face.

"Hey sorry. I got tangled up over there…"

"How hard is it to find the bathroom?" Emma joked, stirring her straw in her drink, clutching her cell phone like a lifeline.

"Well, it's kinda snagged somewhere in there." He nodded with his chin. "Two bathrooms, unisex but the women kinda dominated…no offense."

-What about the bathroom situation?-

-Thats an odd question.-

-No it isn't. Bathroom are where?-

-Upstairs and downstairs, women will have preferential treatment on that I assume. We have to walk through. annoyed-

-I can tell-

"Busy?" Neal asked, realizing that Emma hadn't even made a comment about the bathroom situation.

"Oh, no, just, some email things…"

He nodded as he waived for another beer. He settled back into his seat, a pleasant tightlipped smirk on his face. "How's the restaurant bizzzz retreating you?"

"It's going."

"It's a nightmare." He shrugged. "I stared with money from a game show basically, still didn't make it easier."

Emma wrinkled her nose as she sipped her Jack and Coke; the bartender had been heavy on the Jack and light on the Coke. She didn't mind but she tried to limit her drinking around people she was trying to get to know. "How'd that work out for you?

"Well, tourists will pay anything and locals will tell you to shove things into parts of your body things shouldn't be shoved into."

"Welcome to New York."

Neal chuckled. "I mean, I get it but I was raised here. It's not my fault that reality TV completely ruined everything and made my pop angry."

-Miss Swan you can't presume to know all of my moods.-

-Not presuming. You're literally 2 moods. Cranky and arrogant.-

"Who's your pop?"

"C'mon Swan…" Neal chided, taking a pull from his beer, a weary smile on his face. "You know, you're just playin' nice."

"No I don't. I don't want TV."

"Rupert Gold."

It took everything in her power to not continue texting Regina while they sat at the bar, loud classic rock blaring around them as screens flickered, showing the local sports teams dominating. Neal continued to ramble about his difficult relationship with his father. She was interested, she really was, but she was fixated on the fact that Emma hadn't responded to her moods text message; Emma knew Regina had two extra moods, just to keep things interesting but she hadn't anticipated on being able to read her after a few drinks. She blinked at the screen hoping for another smart reply from Regina as Neal sipped his beer.

-Gold is Neal's father, did you know that?-

-I knew he had a son.-

-not what I asked. You knew Neal was his?-

"So what made you want to jump into that with Mills anyway? I heard she's a pain in the ass to deal with." Neal asked, munching on a cold French fry; the burgers had been spectacular.

"Something different."

"I get it."

"Do you?

He grinned that boyish grin. "Nope. My dad is a big a pain as they come, makes sense someone like Regina would work with him. Peas in a pod those two."

"Oh yeah?"

"What she didn't tell you?"

"I accidentally found out she was…IS…an Iron Chef, notoriously difficult to deal with and keeps things to herself." Emma shrugged, eyeing her phone as though it was Regina, smart ass comment ready to go.

"Yeah…" Neal shrugged.

-He has his secrets-

Emma moistened her lower lip with her tongue, watching the way Neal studied her expression with interest. "Are you coming after me and my restaurant, Mr. Cassidy?"

Neal let out a belly laugh. "Hell no I'm not. I'm going after my pops. He's legacy windbag."

"Legacy windbag…that's a new one."

Neal winked as he pulled from his bottle. "You think that's what I asked you out for? Nah. I asked you out cause I wanted to ask you out. A guy can't do that?"

Emma shrugged, the whiskey really winding around her system as she regarded Neal in the bar light; she understood beer goggles but whiskey sight was something else entirely. She grinned and took another sip of her drink. "Yeah, sure he can…"

"So we're good."

"Solid."

"Spectacular."

Neal smiled and Emma found herself leaning closer to him, her eyes roaming his face before settling on his lips. "I'm not easy." She replied casually.

"I figured. I like complexity."

Emma nodded, taking another pull from her drink.

-Is he after the restaurant?-

Emma's eyes lingered on Neal's lips for a moment longer, her phone vibrating angrily in her left hand. She rolled her eyes and glanced at the screen before answering. -Nope. He's after me-

Regina didn't respond for the rest of the evening.

Ruby poured out a tall glass of water, watching Emma as she grumpily rolled over on the couch. Emma drunk dialed Ruby, asking if she still had the bug and wanted a pick up from the bar. Ruby graciously dropped off Neal before bringing her back to the apartment where she laid Emma out on the couch, watching her roommate as she grumbled about Regina Mills being a pain in the ass with secrets and Neal looking really cute under bar lights.

"I should consider that, right…" Emma mumbled into the comforter as Ruby rounded the couch with a handful of aspirin and the glass of water. "Gotta think what beer goggles does…"

"I think you can worry about that later…" Ruby cooed as she rolled Emma onto her back. "I think we need to get you into bed…."

"You always wanted me in bed…"

Ruby smirked. "Sober, Swan. C'mon, get up." She pulled Emma up, grunting under the weight of her best friend who obviously wasn't trying. "If I was gonna get you into bed, I'd atleast fed you."

"We had burgers…"

"Wasn't enough…" she almost toppled over carrying Emma and balancing the water as she lead her into her bedroom, watching Emma as she unceremoniously tossed herself onto her bed. "Hey, I have water for you…"

"Awesome…"

Ruby rolled her eyes. "So you can drink that, the aspirin and not complain in the morning about how you're way too old for this kind of thing."

"Kay…" Emma mumbled into the comforter, pushing up and holding out her hands for the water and pills. "Gimme."

"There had better be an awesome story with all this…"

She could feel the liquor swishing around in her gut as she rolled over, her mouth tasting stale as settled onto her side, reaching for her cell phone. She had a few missed calls, all from Neal and a few stubborn text messages from Regina.

-I hope the crisis is averted, Ms. Swan-

Emma wrinkled her nose. "Crisis…" she mumbled, checking her voicemail.

"If calling me and telling me that you're super drunk and sorry you are calling me are part of things I have to look forward to working with you Emma, I'd rather you'd leave your phone at home."

"Ah crap." Emma blurted out, sitting up right, her stomach clenching in protest. She had to pee badly and she felt all the liquor she had consumed demanding an explanation for the delay. She tumbled out of bed and scrabbled for the bathroom, phone still clutched in her hand. She checked the time as she scrolled through her phone. To her growing embarrassment she was going to be late for work. She finished up her shameful bathroom visit, padding into the kitchen to pour out more water for herself, her phone staring up at her as she debating dialing or texting Regina. If she apologized, it meant she was a bigger person, if she stayed quiet it meant her sober mind was speaking through drunken thoughts.

-How big of an ass was I?-

-You called asking if I would be a sweetheart and picked you up.-

-So really big- Emma chugged her water, watching the three tiny ellipses as they churned on her screen. Was there anything more anxiety inducing?

-I assume you arrived home safely?-

-Ruby got me-

-Good-

Emma eyed the phone curiously. –Worried about me?-

-It's not that difficult to find a capable person to step into your role were you to wind up incapacitated.-

-Cold way to say yes, Regina.-

-I'm arranging a meeting with David to discuss the walkthrough. I assume you are available today?-

-Yep. Made a proper ass of myself in front of Neal-

-Congratulations.-

Emma squinted at her screen, realizing that Regina was firing on all cylinders while she was trying to process what she had done last night. –Sorry?-

-Are you available today?-

-Yeah.- Emma could tell Regina was sidestepping the entire conversation from last night; she scrolled up and realized somewhere between the bar and the ride home she asked Regina why she was a stick in the mud if her smile muscles worked. She cringed when she arrived at her crowning achievement. –I wonder if I make you smile-

-Just tell me where I have to be-

-Obviously the restaurant-

-I meant time-

-Three-

Emma looked at the clock on the microwave; it was high noon. –Sure, I can do that-

-Good.-

Emma dialed the restaurant and told Killian she wouldn't be in today. He barely hid his surprise. "Neal called out as well. Good thing I have a sous chef I trust other wise this ship would sink."

Emma clutched her water bottle, her palm sweating as she made her way up the block and found Regina standing in front of the restaurant; sunglasses perched on her head as she frowned, shaking her head. Emma was either really early, David was really late or Regina was just in a super frowny kind of mood.

"Hey…" Emma greeted awkwardly as she approached.

"She lives…" Regina mused, taking in Emma's somewhat disheveled appearance. She was wearing loose fitting jeans, a pair of Vans, a baggy shirt topped with her leather jacket and a pair of aviator sunglasses. "I assumed you'd still be scraping yourself from the inside of a tequila bottle…"

"Nah…I'm not a tequila girl…" Emma grunted following Regina's gaze back towards the front of the restaurant where tarp covered up the windows and obvious signs of construction marred the front door. "Whoa…"

"Indeed." Regina remarked grimly. "I had hoped David knew what he was doing but…"

"Oh, no he knows…it's just…construction is a…well…it's construction." Emma offered, stepping closer to Regina, her lower lip tucked between her teeth in thought. "I'm sure the inside isn't so bad…"

They entered and stopped in their tracks. The interior was alive with activity, hammering, sawing and buzzing assaulting their ears as David's team worked on assembling tables from scratch, aligning fixtures and worked on metals. Regina clutched a hand to her chest in surprise while Emma, ever the stalwart, shrugged. "Not bad at all."

"This isn't bad?"

"If you want hand built and most of the chairs are in place, then yeah…"

Regina rolled her eyes as she barged into the kitchen where David was overseeing the placement of a rather large range. "I assume this isn't the kind of chaos that's standard for you, yes?"

David blushed as the range landed in position. "Yeah, sorry…" David replied over his shoulder as he squatted to check that the range was where it was supposed to be. "Everything started coming in around the same time so I figured, why not start laying it all out." He grinned. "Good to see you."

Regina arched an eyebrow as Emma entered the kitchen, her sunglasses finally off and pushed up on top of her head, pushing her hair back. Regina bit back whatever snide comment she was going to utter at the sight of the grin on Emma's face.

"We really have a kitchen…" Emma said in wonder, a wide smile on her face. "This is amazing…"

David shrugged. "Regina thinks it's all madness…" he grinned, taking in the sight of the kitchen, the prep station pushed up against one side of the wall, the heating counter in the center, plastic still clinging to parts of the metal. "We'll set it up after lunch break, figured it'd be easier to move around without my guys all over the place."

Emma grinned, winking at Regina as she explored the space. "Yeah well, she thinks everything should be perfect from the word go so…"

"I do not." Regina squeaked in protest as she examined the cooking range they just placed. It was much larger than she thought it was. "I expect a kind of order, is that too much to ask?"

"Yeah." David and Emma replied in unison.

Regina rolled her eyes.

"So are you giving us the guided tour or are we going off the allegedly wonky blueprints you sent over?" Emma asked with a grin, nodding towards a very disgruntled Regina as she picked her way around the kitchen, her heels crinkling along the brown construction paper that lined the floor.

"They're wonky?" David asked, pulling out his phone and scrolling around to find the email he sent out. "Sorry…I thought they were pretty decent…"

"They're fine, her royal highness was whining about them yesterday."

"I'm surprised you remember all that considering your condition." Regina casually fired back, a smug tight-lipped smile on her face.

"Condition?" David asked in confusion, trying to find a common piece of information to jump onto; it appeared both women were having a conversation around him.

"I wasn't that bad…"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the garbled message you left asking for a ride home…"

David's eyes bounced between the both of them before realization set in. "Were you drunk last night?" he asked, finally feeling as though he found a place to contribute.

"Emma was." replied Regina curtly, running her fingertip along the top of the shelving. She turned to face the two of them with a smirk.

David nodded sympathetically. "Happens to the best of us." He winked. "So, where do you want to start?"

"I'm fine with the kitchen if you are, Swan." said Regina with an appreciative nod.

"Sink, stove, fridge, yeah." Emma said with a shrug.

"Honestly what would I do without you? What about the storage?"

"Right this way." David said with a wave and an apologetic look towards Emma who rolled her eyes and followed in Regina's wake.

"So we're basically storing the goods here, it's got a regulated cooling system that'll keep it from spoiling." He held open a narrow door leading into a closet space that comfortably fit two people. Emma peered in through the doorway while Regina entered, turning around and looking at the shelves. "Is this oak?"

"Sure is. I thought a good approach to treat it like a cigar box…keeps everything fresh and clean. Did the same for some of the oak that'll be used for curing the meat. Fresh place delivering daily once you're ready and a place to store it."

"Well done, David." Regina nodded again in approval, leaving the storage cupboard with flourish. "Where to next?"

"Suddenly that wonky layout isn't so wonky…" Emma muttered.

"How do you keep up with her?" David asked, watching Regina as she headed downstairs to the second dining area and wine cellar. "She's…"

"A handful. Yeah. I know."

They rounded the stairs and found the space empty, the wine cellar door flung open, Regina's shadow cast across the unfinished floor. "What was this originally again?"

"Fur cellar. I think." David said, bracing himself on the door, holding it wider for Emma to see inside. "Wrought iron and wood, custom build frame fits right into the wall, stays cool without having to tap into electrical. My own design."

"This is fantastic David…"

"Oh well, I can't take all the credit, Mary Margaret came up with the set up, I just kinda…made it all work." He shrugged. "It's what I do."

"It's amazing."

"Well, it's all coming together well. What's our timeline for gas and electric?"

"That…we should be cleared by the end of June. I want to get the rest of the pieces in and then the place is all yours…"

Emma's eyes widened. "What do you mean all ours?"

"Well, Regina said you guys are going to work on the menu here…"

"Oh, she did, did she?" Emma said with genuine surprise. "When was that happening?"

"As soon as the building was no longer condemned or considered a hazard. So far, I'm impressed."

"Was that news?" David asked, his cheeks crimson with embarrassment.

"Don't worry, I'll have to talk to my business partner about all of this."

"Well dear, we couldn't keep hanging out in my kitchen and expect to make a winning menu. We need to work in our common space." Regina said sweetly, the smile on her face baring perfect teeth. "This is it."

"You're just mad that I beat you fair and square." Emma muttered, leaning on the edge of a counter, arms folded across her chest. She still wasn't feeling 100%, the whisky still floating around in her system; talking about food reminded her that she needed to eat something soon.

"Absolutely not." Regina replied smugly. "But we do need to consider how we'll be working in these conditions, given the fact that we have yet to hire staff."

"Staff, yeah for a menu we haven't figured out yet."

"Ah, look who caught on."

David's eyes darted between the two of them as though he was in the middle of a verbal tennis match. "Ladies…"

"I'm not an idiot, I know that we have things that we need to do but I'm balancing the restaurant this…and…"

"And what?"

"I'll uh, go someplace else." David said more to himself than two either woman as he excused himself and ran out of the kitchen, leaving Regina and Emma to square off.

"Is this about Neal?" Regina asked, brows knitting together in curiosity, mirroring Emma's pose.

"Well, I'm taking what you said seriously…" Emma said sheepishly.

"Oh about the spy thing? I thought we agreed that he was genuinely interested in you that the restaurant wasn't at risk or were you too drunk to recall that?"

"I remember." Emma blanched, rubbing at her temples. "I can pull back time from there but I need to make a living Regina…some of us don't have the luxury of just upping and going anywhere we want."

"So it's an issue with payments?"

Emma shrugged, suddenly embarrassed by the change in conversation. She hated being the center of attention and she was melting underneath Regina's intense gaze. "It's not that…It's…I made that place work and now he's coming in basically trying to steal what I've done and…"

Regina rolled her eyes. "Rupert Gold had his pick of dozens of chefs in this city. He trusted you to open up an entire restaurant. He doesn't trust easily."

"He trusts you."

Regina pursed her lips. "There's a difference between trust and respect. Neal Cassidy won on a reality show and he opened up some middle of the road novelty bakery and thinks adding liquor to everything makes it better. He's no one to respect or trust. He's not a threat to us."

Us. Emma studied Regina for a moment, weighing her words before speaking. She was going to get whiplash from this woman."Fair enough."

"And if you are attracted to him, I weep for your choices in potential dates."

"Hey whoa why would that even be a thing?"

"Emma…" Regina intoned with a nod. "Please."

"Please what?"

"He asked you out and you accepted…It's fine. I don't wish to impose on your personal life but I just don't want this to be a distraction."

Emma's eyes bugged. "What…how…you told me to go out with him."

"And you could've declined. He's not a threat to the restaurant, you've said so, if you choose to continue to spend time with him, I don't want to hear any complaints. We're going to be here, working and finishing the menu, hiring process and finding a name. This is the real world Ms. Swan. I need you to be on board with me."

Emma stifled a whisky-flavored burp with the back of her hand. "Fine. Yes. I'm in, berate me all you like but can we please eat something?"

Regina couldn't suppress the smirk on her face she watched Emma polish off her burger. They wound up at McSorley's Old Ale House on East 7th, Emma insisting that Regina needed to experience the kind of bar they were trying to build while at the same time craving a burger that made love to her mouth the way one of those burgers would. She hid her smirk behind her burger as Regina dunked a fry into her ketchup..

"It's a federal offense if you don't eat that, Regina." Emma managed around a mouthful of half chewed burger. "Wars have been fought for this kind of meal."

"I'm sure I'll be fine." Regina remarked, cutting her burger with a knife before bringing it to her lips, biting and understanding the nearly feral state Emma was in. Following the wrap at the building site, Emma wordlessly lead her to a restaurant on Second Avenue that purported to have the best hamburgers ever made; two bites in she found that Emma was quite right in her decision and somewhat envious of how easily the slender woman packed away the French fries, burger and Coke. Emma devoured the burger; dimly aware of the way Regina studied her as she chewed. "I'm impressed you resisted the urge for a beer…"

Emma shook her head. "Have to get it anyways."

Regina rolled her eyes. "Do I want to know why?"

"Tradiffon." Emma replied around a mouthful of burger. "Affo, needed to feel a little sober."

"How drunk were you last night?"

"Pretty drunk." Emma blushed. "I'm sorry. I uh, I don't do that at all actually and if I do, it's at home…faaaaaaar away from people."

"I see." Regina replied curtly, already working on the other half of her burger. "I won't be joining you with that."

"I figured, you're not a beer girl."

"What kind of woman do you think I am, Emma?"

Emma swallowed hard, the food nearly choking her as she reached for her Coke. She took a deep pull, washing it down before she spoke. "I'm not sure."

Regina smirked as she waived towards the bar, held up two fingers and said light. Emma watched the exchange with interest. "I've been around, Miss Swan."

"We're back to that again. You only whip that out when you want to feel like you've got one up on me."

"Do I?"

"You called me by name like, two minutes ago. Just now, you called me Misss Swaaannnn." Emma imitated Regina's drawl, earning a genuine smile from the woman across the table from her. "I get it, we're polar opposites and all but…I dunno…kinda figured you'd maybe pretend to see me as an equal at some point."

"I do."

Emma looked up from her plate in surprise. "What?"

"I don't understand what's so difficult to grasp."

"I don't wanna rehash the kitchen incident but…I'm pretty sure you hated me."

Regina sighed. "Hate. No. I can either fight the tide or swim with it and who you were then is not who you are now. Same with me. I've learned from that summer and the years that followed. I don't hate you Emma, I just don't want you ruining something that could very well be the greatest accomplishment in my career."

"And my career?"

"I don't like failure and try as I might, I've failed to get rid of you so I'll just accept this for what it is."

"What is it then?"

"A challenge."

"What'd he do to you?"

"Who?"

"Gold."

Regina's jaw tightened. She was grateful for the beers that arrived on the table, effectively putting a pin in the conversation. She stared at the pints, focusing on them and not the look of concern in Emma's eyes. "He taught me that it's better to have your enemies in line than across a battlefield."

"That's not cryptic."

"You're not from around here." Regina said, hefting the glass and sitting up straighter in her seat. "I have been tasked with showing you everything and I plan on it but the teacher is only as strong as the student. So. If you want to learn…"

Emma grabbed her glass. "Teach me."

Emma was anxious as she stepped into the new kitchen. It always thrilled her to walk into something new but today felt different; the kitchen had been designed for her needs. David delivered on the specs they had discussed and as she heard the hum of the kitchenware around her, she felt like she was home. She put in her resignation to the restaurant much to Killian's dismay, Neal's awkward approval and Rupert's indifference; he expected it sooner than it came. As she explained to Ruby that rent was going to be lean on her end she simply shrugged and said, "Lacey's moving in, so no worries." The response left her slack jawed and a little jealous.

Regina was dressed in all black the sleeves of her jacket rolled up to the elbows as she worked down the prep line, timing the process, eyes flicking up towards the clock above the door.

"Control freak." Emma grinned as she approached, buttoning up her jacket, covering up her tanktop.

"If this line is to be efficient we need to test it out." Regina said simply without looking up as she plated and slid it down as she shuffled to keep up.

"I don't want to sound like you but that's why we have to hire people…"

"Yes, well, we'll get to that part once we finalize what we're expecting them to do." Regina let out a huff as she stared at the plate. "I've done better." She muttered to herself.

"What?" Emma asked, rounding the end of the line and staring at the plate; a fully garnished plate between them. "Looks pretty soigne to me."

Regina looked up in amazement.

"What? I'm not allowed to know fancy kitchen speak?"

"Didn't think you did."

"Cause I was raised in diners?" Emma smirked, brushing passed Regina towards the sink to wash her hands. "I'm gonna learn from you but that's not gonna undo the things other people taught me."

"It's also not the polite thing to say." Regina added with a haughty grin.

"What?"

"Soigne. It's mise."

"Is not."

"Is."

Emma rung out her hands in the sink, reaching for the towel on the rail and shook her head. "It's both, I've heard both. Besides when was the last time you were in the kitchen? When I kinda won that thing at Granny's?"

Regina's eyes narrowed. "Typical."

"What is? Already arguing with you?"

"Absolutely. How am I supposed to teach you anything when you think you know everything?"

Emma screwed up her face. "Fine. Okay. Just…" she sighed in resignation. "We'll just start from the top."

They had three more arguments before David intervened; he pulled both of them into the restaurant's interior and mediated between them as they debated the merits of having bar food as well as traditional fare. He listened sympathetically before texting Mary Margaret under the table asking for her help. His eyes darted between the two of them as they bickered, oddly fascinated by their points, the fact that Emma stood her ground against someone who was as intimidating at Regina; he knew nothing about cooking and was lost most of the time. Mary Margaret arrived as mirrored his wide-eyed horror as the two of them continued, seemingly ignoring the referees. David and Mary Margaret watched in fascination as both women passionately bicker before Regina finally realized they were being stared at. She cast her gaze across the hand carved table in frustration.

"Any time now handy man." She growled, rolling her head on her shoulders, joints popping back into place.

"Oh. Well. We were just…trying to figure out where to jump in…" David muttered in embarrassment as Mary Margaret placed a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"You're both right. This place should be a full service affair." Mary Margaret said with a pleasantly saccharine smile on her face. "You're arguing about techniques and preps for wings, burgers and steak. This place opens in less than two months. How about we just get two menus printed: one for the bar, one for the dining crowd? Sound reasonable?"

Emma scrubbed at her face with her hands. "Yeah, yeah let's do that."

"Good. See? Okay, so when should we put out for the line cooks?" Mary Margaret asked, scribbling furiously into her notebook.

"As soon as possible. I'll bring in a few from the restaurant I'm overseeing in midtown. I'm sure a few would like the chance to go elsewhere." Regina replied dismissively, hating how she had to defer to Mary Margaret to organize her own restaurant. Emma let out a huff; her phone had been vibrating furiously in her pocket for the last twenty minutes and decency kept her from even checking who it was. She eyed Regina as she tapped her well-manicured fingers against the top of the table in frustration. "Unless Emma has people she prefers to work under her."

Emma caught the barb. "Nope."

Mary Margaret swallowed. "We can place an ad in a few places…"

"Whatever." Regina pushed up from the table. "David, Emma will clean out the kitchen and we'll return tomorrow to try again." She walked out leaving all of them in stunned silence.

"Should…should I keep sharp things back there?" David asked after a moment.

"Might as well. I'm gonna need something to defend myself against her." Emma replied with an eye roll, pulling her phone from her pocket. She had four missed calls from Ruby and a batch of texts from Neal. She scrolled through the voicemails and read Neal's texts.

"I thought the two of you were getting along."

"So did I." Emma replied ruefully as she text Neal back.

"You still owe me an explanation." Ruby sing songed as Emma chugged water from her glass.

"For?" she finally replied, washing out the glass and replacing it.

"That shitshow the other night…"

Emma blanched. "Rubes…"

"You were tanked." Lacey chimed in as Ruby hit a particularly tender spot on her left foot. "It was a little awe inspiring."

Emma shook her head. "I forgot what whiskey does…" she tried brushing past the couple on the couch before Ruby grabbed her by her wrist.

"No no no. I risked a parking space for you, you owe me."

Emma grit her teeth before flopping into the dilapidated chair across from the couch. "Fine. I was with a guy and I just…"

"Do you remember my taking your phone away?"

"No." Emma admitted, embarrassment creeping into her voice. "You took it?"

"You were texting Regina."

"Ah."

"You didn't look at the messages?!" Ruby exclaimed, pushing Lacey's legs from her from lap and diving for the phone as it lay on the coffee table. "You were…a little much."

"What? No…"

"Dude." Ruby scrolled through the phone, holding it up for Emma to see. "Guess you were too hung over to look at the whole thing."

Emma took the phone. "OH my GOD." Emma's mouth hung open as she scrolled through the text messages before Regina contacted her that morning. -You're gorgeous and you know it and tha'ts the thing that sucks; you know it and you just treat everone like crap. They call you the evil queen.- "RUBY?!"

"I didn't write that you did. You know, drunk mind, sober thoughts." Ruby grinned as she watched a traumatized Emma scrolling through her phone.

-what're you up to? We should hang out. I like you when you're not uptight-

-you have a nice smile. Gotta work on making that happen more-

-neal is boring, he's nice but he's boring. Talks about baking and how my eyes are pretty.-

-can you get me? Im at a bar with neal.-

-guess youre sleeping. Sorry. Im a little drunk. I need someone to get me-

Emma had to give herself credit; she atleast typed coherently.

"Neal was a bust?"

"Eh…he's…he's interesting."

"He's not Regina." Ruby grinned. "You didn't bother him once you left the bar."

"What."

"We dropped him off in Brooklyn before coming back home." Ruby replied. "I took the phone after you text her about the pick up time."

"You waited all that time?!"

"I thought the two of you were sending dirty messages to each other."

"Who?!"

"You and Neal…he kept giggling in the backseat."

Emma groaned, covering her face with her hands. "No…"

"Do you have a thing for her?" Ruby asked seriously.

"No I don't…it's…Regina."

"Doesn't mean you don't fancy her, mate." Lacey chided as Ruby returned to her place on the couch, massaging her feet. "Tends to happen with frenimes."

"She was kinda pissed I was around Neal even though she said that I needed to spy on Neal…"

"Spy? Why?"

"He's…trying to take over the restaurant. The whole date thing was to get into his head and see what he was trying to do because we're doing more or less the same thing and…" Emma shrugged. "He was more into me than food talk."

"Why would she be pissed?" Ruby asked, her thumbs working furiously against the soles of Lacey's feet in interest.

"She doesn't want distractions."

"Distractions or rivals?" Ruby asked dramatically.

"I don't know." Emma replied with insolence. "Rubes, I'm going to bed…"

"Dude, seriously though, I think she has the hots for you. I think you have the hots for her I think she's a little bit of a maniac but…who knows…Maybe she's like a sexier Christian Grey or something."

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that and going to bed."

"Just…think about it."

Regina watched the way the line moved, arms folded across her chest as Emma prepped the plates, moving them down and wiping her fingertips into her towel. The line she had arranged to test was working and she was impressed with how easily Emma fit into their workflow, overseeing the process while she remained as distant from it as possible; she was the head chef which awarded her some freedoms in the kitchen. She found herself following the blonde as she darted from position to position, smiling and joking with the rest of the practice line. She could understand why her previous restaurant was less than pleased to have lost her. Rupert could suck it up.

They were on day two of preps, rotating a group of prospective candidates who would work the test kitchen mimicking a consisting of a full week schedule, the weekends and late nights as Regina weeded out the weak from the pack. She suppressed a smirk as she watched the applicants wince as she tapped them on the shoulder; they had impressed her in the interview process but they were struggling in the kitchen. She caught Emma's look of exasperation as she tapped on the last shoulder of a sous chef from Michigan who'd made a sauce from scratch that Emma swore was the greatest thing she'd ever tasted.

"It's official, you hate everyone." Emma groaned once the kitchen was cleared. "We're gonna just microwave everything and call it a win."

"I don't hate everyone…" Regina replied as she unfastened her jacket, revealing a black tank top underneath. She absently fiddled with the delicate necklace at her throat. "I just want to make sure we have the highest caliber chefs here."

"The last one made that sauce from scratch when she didn't need to." Emma nodded with her chin towards the small sauce pot in question. She watched Regina dip her pinky into the scarlet sauce before bringing it to her lips. "You cannot tell me that's not impeccable work."

Regina let the sauce sit on her tongue. "It's delicious. She hates making sauce for hot wings. Says it's inferior work."

Emma frowned. "Where'd you find her then?"

"Capitol Grille on 50th and 6th."

"Of course. She's one of yours. What about the whatever you had them make?"

"The ones you sent who turned perfect pieces of steak into tires?"

"We're not gonna agree on this either. You turn everything into a fight."

"No I don't, you do."

"We're not even supposed to be in here yet. David just got the kitchen together and they're still building furniture…" Emma could hear the whine in her tone and didn't care. "We could've blown everyone up…"

"Fortunately we didn't and don't change the subject."

Emma clenched her jaw. "Fine, okay. We can mix the staff, that work for you?"

"Only if they can work both menus. You're forgetting, Swan, this place needs to be sustainable seven days a week, with rotating days off. Most of the people who were here declined that schedule. Not to mention they couldn't move around the kitchen floor without smacking into each other. That sous chef bumped into the line cook three times; she couldn't do her job without working around the man who almost lit her arm on fire. Twice."

"Fine. Show me. Show me how you want the line to move."

"You were hired because you know how the line should move."

"And you're supposed to know that I know what the hell I'm doing. So. Show me." Emma sniffed, rolled her shoulders and mimicked prepping a piece of meat on the cooling grill. Regina scoffed and took her position at Emma's right, taking a plate from the rack and placing it in front of her. "Say when."

"What are we making…?"

Emma pretended to check the rail. "Steak." She said flatly, earning a dirty look from Regina as she mock prepped a piece of steak. She pushed the phantom piece towards Regina who grabbed it and plated it. "Now what?"

"You should go to the next station, what's the order call for?" Regina asked, palms braced on the counter.

"Typical order, potatoes, greens and gravy."

"Fine, then, pass that on. You'd give it to the top of the line, they'd check the rail…" Regina answered, turning and immediately bumping into Emma. "Move." She slid the plate down the line, pantomiming the plating before arriving to end of the line and dinging the bell. "Order out."

Emma tossed her head back in frustration, hands on her hips as she stared at the ceiling. She had already undone her work jacket, now signature white tank top exposed. "You're not gonna find people who meet your exacting standards, just people who will work for you. You just kick them around like they're peasants."

"Ah yes. Here it is. It's all my fault." Regina growled. "Tell me, when did you open a restaurant, Miss Swan?"

"See! There it is. That's it. That's the tone."

"The tone?"

"You used it when we were in the kitchen in the Hamptons, you used it now, you basically lay it on thick when you're pissed, especially with me. It's rude, condescending and immature. You don't like me I get that but we're both here because we have something to prove, you with Gold and me with you."

"What makes you think that I have anything to prove to Gold?"

"Y'know I can tell when you're lying."

Regina rolled her eyes, arms folded across her chest as she stared Emma down. "You really have no idea do you? What it is that's on the line for me."

Emma shrugged. "Tell me."

"This works, I get it all. All of Gold's properties become mine, this being the crown jewel of it. You have no idea what I've done, the sacrifices I've made to make my way in the world all you can do is say I'm condescending and I hurt your feelings. All Rupert Gold did for me was make me better than I was."

"What makes you think that I have nothing to lose? If I piss you off, I can kiss my career goodbye, you almost saw to it years ago what would make now so different? You take over every restaurant in this city; I'm out of a job. Think that's fair? You don't hurt my feelings Regina, I'm pretty capable of taking a beating, you just make me want to knock you on your ass. I told you, you've no idea what I'm capable of." Emma slowly cleared the space between them, frustration tensing up her shoulders.

"You get what you want if you accept the help that I'm offering. If you accept that we are equals in this even though I'm still learning and want to learn. With my help, you can have the city, everything in it and more."

"I'm over whatever happened between us then, I'm not even sure what the hell Gold did to you in the meantime and honestly, I'd like to care but you're such a pain in the ass I have a hard time trying to figure out if I should even bother. You're a bully. You're mean, you try to make people do your bidding but no one is even sure what the hell it is you want in the first place so instead of arguing with you and having to hear your mouth, they'd rather just suck it up and just do the work so you think you've won. My kitchen can't work like that. It won't, okay? I'm gonna need you to stop talking at me and start talking to me." Emma backed Regina against the storage door, inches separating them, eyes darting between eyes and lips. Emma surged forward, closing the gap between them kissing Regina full on the mouth. Regina's hands wound into the fabric of Emma's tank top, her fingers knotting into it, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss before she realized what she was doing. She was dismayed when Emma pulled back, panting and licking her lips, tasting where they'd met, trembling when she realized that Regina had reciprocated the action.

Emma braced herself for the inevitable slap as Regina brought her hands up.

"Why on Earth did you do that?" Regina whispered, brows knit in confusion, eyes a storm of emotions. "Are you insane?"

Emma gaped at Regina, still trying to catch her breath.

"Do you have any idea how invasive, disrespectful, manipulative that is?" she stepped forward menacingly, backing Emma into the prep line table, the edge digging into Emma's lower back. She braced her palms against the top, holding herself upright as Regina leveled her gaze.

"Yes." Emma replied softly, trying to pull back as far as she could only to find that Regina closed the gap between them and if she moved, she would more than likely trip and land on the floor. Truthfully, she didn't want to move, she was pinned and she really wanted to know where this was going. "I'm sorry…it…I thought…"

Regina leaned forward, capturing Emma's mouth in a searing kiss that threatened to knock the both of them to the floor. Regina's fingers wound into Emma's hair, pulling her in, fingernails scraping against her scalp earning a throaty moan from her prey. Regina softly tugged against the straps of Emma's tanktop, her knuckles brushing against soft skin as she broke the kiss.

"Text messages make sense…" Regina murmured stepping back and turning away from Emma, her eyes scanning the floor as though an answer would appear.

"Yeah, about that I'm sorry I…"

Regina turned and faced Emma. "Let's try that again."

"What?"

"Let's try the line again. Together." Regina hastily buttoned her jacket and returned to the range, taking the plate they practiced with and handing it to Emma. "Steak." Regina said with a nod, pantomiming preparation, plating and watching the hand off. She and Emma moved around each other in sync, weaving from station to station as though they were multiple people instead of two, ending up together at the last station. "Order out." Regina said with a smile on her face that set butterflies lose in Emma's stomach.

"You know, you answered me back…" Emma insisted as she washed out the saucepan; she found a mason jar and filled it with the sauce.

"I did what?"

"Answered the texts…"

"You sounded…like you were at a loss…"

"What on my not date? I was being a spy and failing miserably."

Regina chuckled as she loaded up the dishwasher. "Yes, well, I commend your efforts." Regina ran her tongue along her lower lip in thought. "Did you kiss him?"

Emma stiffened; she could feel Regina's eyes on her back. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure…" Emma replied cooly, drying out the pan and adding it to the pile of dishes Regina was working on. "If I was texting you a mile a minute, it means my mouth wasn't doing anything interesting…"

"About that…"

"Why…why did you kiss me?"

"Why'd you kiss me?" Emma asked defensively.

"I asked first."

"You looked like you needed it."

"That's a terrible answer."

"Did I hurt your feelings?"

"It's nice you think I have feelings."

"Regina…you're not an ice queen…"

"No. I believe the word around certain circles is I'm an evil queen."

"Yeah well…" Emma shrugged.

"It's a fact of life. People will put you in titles that you've either earned or think accurately represent you."

"So you think you're a queen…" Emma teased, a shiver passing through her as Regina smiled at her from the dishwasher. She was starting to think that smile was going to kill her.

"Clever. And what are you? The savior?"

Emma shrugged, shutting off the faucet and drying her hands on the towel tucked into the back of her waistband. "So, how come you never said anything about being on Iron Chef…?"

Regina blanched as she straightened up, untucking her jacket and unbuttoning it, her cheeks pinking as Emma's eyes roamed her collarbone and throat before looking at her lips and stopping at her eyes. "Because it was a long time ago."

"You beat Bobby Flay."

"What, like it's hard?" Regina retorted, reaching for Emma's towel and drying off her hands, their fingertips brushing, causing sparks to fly.

"It's impressive…"

"It's just cooking…" Regina shrugged.

"It's a little more than that…I like cooking…it's what I'm really good at…"

"I don't know…I think you're capable of many things Mi…Emma…You just haven't had the chance to truly explore that."

"Oh?"

Regina nodded, stepping closer towards Emma, her fingers winding into her jacket again, anchoring them together. "I'd be interested if you're interested…"

"In…"

"Exploration."

Emma nodded slowly, not quite sure what Regina was implying but more than willing to find out. "Yes…I told you…I'm here to learn…"