I don't own these characters; Disney/ABC does.

A/N: this story came into being after a reader, Bad girl1311, sent me a request and for you guys to understand how long it might take me to get to requests, this was almost two years ago. What she asked for: The craze for Emma g!p is increasing day by day. I can't blame other SQ reader because I am also a crazy fan of Emma g!p. Emma is a billionaire who hires Regina, a escort, to act as her fake girlfriend to convince her Mother and father and also escape from her parents' torture to get married. Emma never believed in love. She parties, sleeps around with different girls. Commitment issues.

I did my best, but I seem to swing and miss when people ask me for stuff. I end up building a story that doesn't really seem to hit the prompt ever. One of the things I liked about this idea was I felt it would give a chance to explore two things I only got a chance to play with in one other story. So, for the second time from me, we will see a modern day Enchanted Forest and Leopold is Emma's father. I hope you guys like it.

I would like to thank my beta, Kylie, as usual. I hope Bad girl1311 reads this and I hope you like it. Everybody else, I hope you enjoy as well.

Come say hi to me on Facebook.

Things Money Can't Buy

1: Respect

Emma sat on her couch, torn tank top on, her favorite, and a beer on her coffee table within arm's reach. She scowled at the clock on the wall, ticking away, reminding her that time marched forward. Fuck time. Fuck everything. She needed to get up and change out of her pajamas, but the thought of moving weighed so heavy, it made her whole body feel like lead.

It did not help that her phone kept going off every three seconds. It could be any number of people she did not want to hear from, but she bet it was her "friends." They texted her every now and then, wanting to know where she was, what was up, and all that stuff. She did not want to talk to them, had not wanted to talk to them for a long time. They wanted in on her new life, like life where she had money to burn. She did not want to deal with them. She did not want to deal with anything really.

She hated this whole new life bullshit she was going through. She felt like an idiot for all the time she spent dreaming of being rich as a child, even though she learned her mother was not as poor as her lifestyle had led Emma to believe. Who hasn't taken time out of their lives to fucking lie to me? Not that it mattered.

Her mother was dead and she was left to cope with a mountain of secrets and navigate a completely new world. It was annoying. You could always run away. And go where? Really, where? That's your excuse. It's never mattered before.

No, the where never had mattered when she ran off before. If her lifestyle bothered her, she moved on until she could be someone new. Sometimes, she went back. Sometimes, she did not. But, being somewhere new was never right and that held true. Now, she was someone new as well while in the wrong puzzle. Or maybe she was a piece of the puzzle that did not fit.

"You never fit anywhere, which has always been the damn problem. It's why people lie to you. Now, you have to deal with this bullshit," Emma said, voice grumbling as she folded into herself, pulling her knees to her chest.

Her new lifestyle was thanks to a father she had never known and only recently met, at her mother's funeral no less. He seemed to be under the impression he was doing her a favor when he showed up, but really he just flipped her life upside down like a carnival ride. Of course, it was far from the first time her life had been turned over like a pancake. This was just the craziest, in comparison, which said a lot.

Now, she had dozens of expectations resting on her rather impressive shoulders and all she wanted was for them to go away. Unfortunately, nothing she did would make Leopold White disappear from her life now like he had done over twenty years go. Again, it was annoying.

"Couldn't he just throw money at me and leave me be?" Emma sighed. No, that was too simple and way too impossible now.

Leopold wrecked that plan the moment he went to her mother's funeral. And why had he done that? He claimed it was to pay his respects, but life made Emma a cynic. He wanted to make sure her mother was truly dead, probably thinking he would save money and then he met Emma. She literally ran into him and in their fumbling around, someone casually mentioned they looked alike. Leopold resembled his surname after that and burned his identity to Emma barely a minute after. It sucked for both of them, probably. In fact, she would not be surprised if he did not kick himself every night for accidentally revealing himself to her.

Leopold might not leave Emma be, but he threw money at her like it was water. To him it was. The man was worth billions of dollars. Emma, at first, indulged. It was nice to be bought with actual dollars rather than the usual lies. Billions bought a lot of booze to drink away the pain of losing the only family she had ever known.

No, her mother was not the best by far, but she was still her mother. Slowly, but surely Emma soon realized she was turning into her mother, though. Her mother basically drank herself to death. Emma could have done that in her grief, but caught herself in time. Now, she was stuck in a place where she wanted to work on keeping her new family, Leopold and his daughter—her sister—Snow, and resenting the hell out both. How she felt seemed to depend on the day.

Today, she felt resentful, which was why she was about to do something drastic. Leopold was throwing a party and she was expected to attend. She groaned. There were so many parties in this new life and they were not the fun type of party. It felt like a lie to dub them parties. And Leopold's words to her after telling her about the party irked her, even though he said them the last time she saw him, almost a week ago.

"You could meet some nice young man, fall in love, and get married, like your sister." His exact words. Emma had rolled her eyes and he had the nerve to touch her hand. He only touched her when trying to convince her of something. Any other time, he acted like she was a virus and she preferred it that way. He had stared at her with these big, understanding eyes and she had fought down the urge to dry heave. Not today Satan.

Emma had come to understand Snow was a hard act to follow, practically perfect in every way and married to the son of another billionaire. Emma had no desire for marriage and even less desire for men. Usually, she had no problem letting people know that men just were not her jam and more often than not, the feeling was mutual, but she could not find it in her to say it to her new family.

Emma groaned. "I told Mom I lost my virginity to one of her gross stripper friends with a smug ass smile on my face, but can't tell Leopold and Snow about my very natural love of vagina." She was disgusted with herself. Who puts themselves back in a freaking closet after being out her whole life?

With her mother, it was different. Her mother knew about her. Leopold and Snow knew nothing about her, except she was Leopold's "love" child. They did not know her struggles. Her hopes. Her dreams. To be fair, she did not know theirs either.

"They're probably as curious about me as I am about them." You sure about that? Because I can think of some reasons why you sound stupid. She reached for her beer and took a gulp. "Which is why he wants me to meet someone at this stupid party or at least have some dude to marry, like I need to get married tomorrow. You just met me last year, dude, and you're trying to marry me off. You don't want me around."

It would probably be better if she said those words to Leopold, but she often held her tongue around him. It was not something she was known for and she could not for the life of her understand what held her back now. There were so many times she wanted to throw Leopold the finger and tell him where to go, but instead she bit her tongue and waited until she was able to get away from him to drown her words in a drink.

"Coward," she hissed the word and glared at a spot on her wall. If this were just a couple of months ago, she would have hurled her beer bottle, but she was not that drunk and she would like to never be that drunk again. "Why are you being so pissy about this? It's not like it's the first party he's wanted you to go to. You go, you sip some bubbly, and you live life. It's not like this will kill you." Unlike the drinking.

But, she was annoyed and she was annoyed because Leopold did not know her, but already decided what she needed to do with her life. How does one make decisions for someone he did not know? She was pulled from her thoughts as her phone rang. Grabbing it, she held it up just enough to see who it was. A groan escaped her.

"If he tells me one more thing about this stupid party," she said before answering. "Hey, it's Emma."

"You should consider answering your phone in a more professional manner," Leopold said. His voice was always calm, quiet. It freaked her out a little and never failed to raise the hair on her arms or the back of her neck.

"Unfortunately, this isn't my professional phone," she replied. Why the hell is it always something with him?

"I know, but it is good practice. You never know who might be calling."

"Caller ID says otherwise."

Leopold blew out a breath. "I suppose. I was wondering if you'd like to go to the opera."

"You know I don't own any clothes to go to the opera." She also had little desire to be stuck in a theater listening to songs in a language she hardly knew existed. Who pays money to not understand the music? To be fair, you had that death metal phase and who knows what the hell they're saying.

"Snow would probably go with you to pick something out. If not, there are personal shoppers."

Emma was not sure which was worse, going shopping with Snow or paying someone to shop for her. She was not a fan of Snow's style and Snow completely ignored Emma's style. A personal shopper would probably also ignore Emma's style. And who paid people to shop for them?

"Why are you doing this?" Emma asked. He knew she did not like the opera. She had gone with him once when she was shiny and new. She had no idea what was going on. She had fallen asleep twice. He knew the people who sat in front of them and he had to spend most of the night explaining her and her behavior only for them to look down their noses at her anyway. Why would she want to put up with that?

"You might like this one."

"What if you came to the movies with me?" That was more her speed. There were a couple of movies out she would not mind seeing. They could spend time together.

There was a small noise in the phone. Maybe he coughed. "I could buy you a dress for the opera if necessary. I would only need your size. You really should get some culture."

Yeah, because only his thing was culture. "Maybe I'll walk by a museum or something later." If she ever got off the couch.

"If you hold off, I'm sure Snow would love to go with you. Her favorite art museum just got a new exhibit. It's been a while since she's been. She and David would probably love it."

Because only what Snow wanted to do was important. Never mind if she wanted to see something. Maybe you should just get off the phone with him or finish your beer while you're on the phone with him. That last bit sounded like a good idea. She took a gulp.

"I was hoping we'd be able to discuss the party if you came to the opera with us," Leopold said.

"I thought you couldn't talk during the opera." She learned that the hard way, asking all sorts of questions in the beginning. Leopold and Snow had looked at her in a manner that said "you poor, uncultured swine" before shushing her without an explanation. She had figured out on her own talking was not allowed, not that she wanted to talk to Leopold or Snow after that. But, again, she did not want to embarrass them either, which they both let her know she did after the show.

"Well, obviously, we wouldn't hold a conversation during the show." If Leopold ever said "duh," it would have finished that sentence.

"Obviously. We could always go out for pizza and talk about it."

He made a small noise. "I guess we could discuss it now."

Of course they could do it now. It was not like there was a chance Emma was busy right now. It was also not like they could do Emma's thing. They never did Emma's thing. As far as she knew billionaires did not eat pizza from the shop on the corner or go to the local movie theater or play mini-golf. Nor did billionaire's daughters, or Snow led her to believe, as Snow did not want to do those things either. So, for a long time, Emma did their things in order to see them, like this stupid party. Because if she did not go to the party, it would be over a month since she last saw Leopold and Snow. And they don't seem to miss you considering he doesn't want to do any of your things.

Yes, she saw Leopold last week, but it was only for a few minutes. Once he let her know about the part and how he hoped she found a husband, he was gone onto the next thing, leaving her standing in his foyer. It did not occur to him that she spent an hour getting to his home.

"Now, for the party, you should try to arrive with someone presentable," Leopold started.

What the hell did that mean? "Presentable"? Emma herself was barely presentable if every other party she had been to meant anything. Blue bloods could tell when someone was one of them. No matter what dressing Emma put on herself, they could tell she was of "low birth."

"Even if he's not a true suitor, you'll catch the attention of other men, who will be jealous of him. Then you can have your pick. You deserve to be taken care of," Leopold said.

Her stomach twisted. Everything about his statement made her want to vomit. The way he always spoke of her getting a male suitor made her gag. It was like he could not fathom her wanting someone else.

"Taken care of? You make it sound like I need to be whacked," she said, forcing out a laugh, so maybe he could realize how ridiculous he sounded.

Who the hell talked like that? Yeah, most of the wealthy in the Enchanted Forest were also from the now defunct nobility, but she did not see why they had to talk like it was the Middle Ages and the monarchy had not been abolished a century ago. Also, this idea that she needed to get married before twenty-fire or she was destined to live a lonely life as an old maid was more old fashioned than Leopold's monologue.

"Yes, like David is there to take care of your sister," Leopold said. Snow did not help or understand Emma's plight on so many levels. "She was just telling me she was more than willing to help you met a young man. Maybe one who courted her before she chose David."

"So, the leftovers?" Emma asked, unable to stop herself. He wanted her to be someone's second choice.

"You should let Snow help you. You need direction in your life, Emma," he said, like a party and husband would we all that ailed her. "Surrounding yourself with the right people will help. Having a husband would help." She just wanted to punch him in the face.

Taking a breath, she finished her beer. Why was he like this? Whatever she said went in one ear and out the other, like he did not care to hear her. Why should she keep trying when he refused to move? She had already let him get to her enough to she had almost gone the same route as her mother not too long after her mother.

"Snow could help you with picking out a dress, as well," Leopold continued on.

"I have a dress." She picked one out right after agreeing to the party. She had to do it immediately or she would have put it off and shown up at the shindig in jeans. She could imagine the "whispers" that would get. She would not care, not until Leopold and Snow gave her their "uncultured swine" looks anyway. Now, she was reconsidering, though.

"Snow will help you pick an appropriate one," he said.

Emma massaged her temple and wished she had another beer, but she was not ready to walk to the fridge for one yet. You have to do something or he's going to drive you to drink… again. She could not take any more of his passive aggressive nature. Or was it more of an indifferent aggressiveness? He was indifferent to whatever she said to the point of bowling over her words. You can't let him do this to you or eventually you will punch him in the face and that wouldn't be a good luck.

"I don't need help for a dress. I know how to find a dress," she said.

"I'll call Snow and see when she's free. If she's not able to do, I'll have dresses sent over to your apartment. It's probably too late to have one made."

Nope. Emma jumped up and got herself a second beer. She flicked the cap off with her thumb and took a long pull. "I got it."

"Do you have enough money from your allowance to buy a dress?"

"Yeah, believe it or not, they sell 'em for under ten grand," she said. "They sell tons of things for under ten grand." Yeah, they do. And you can do something with that money to do something even better than punch him in his condescending face.

"Something tasteful and appropriate." He said it like he expected her to show up in a thong and pasties.

"So, no clear heels?" she asked before remembering she had a filter with this man.

The question broke through his barrier of nonchalance and he was quiet for a long moment. She hit a nerve and now she was tempted to lean on it. Hell, with what she had in mind, she was more likely to tear the nerve right out.

"I got it," Emma said. "Now, I gotta go."

"All right. Remember, you're trying to attract a suitor. Present your best self. You should have someone to take care of you and you want the best possible choice," he replied, again, as if to make sure she did not swing around a pole.

"Yeah. Enjoy the opera."

"I will. Goodbye."

She did not respond, ending the call. She tossed the phone to the side after and drank more of her beer. What the hell was his deal? Bastard. Her phone rang again and she groaned, knowing how it was without looking.

"Hey, Snow!" Emma had to fake the cheer or she would sound like she was sick of everybody, which she was.

"Hi, Emma. Father called me and said you wanted to go dress shopping." Whenever Snow spoke, Emma could hear the smile in her voice. When they talked face to face, though, Emma could always see the smile never reached her eyes. It was interesting.

"No, he wanted me to go dress shopping. I have a dress."

"Oh." She sounded only a little disappointed. "Well, maybe he just wants us to spend time together. You could come with us to the opera."

"I'm passing on the opera. Still not a fan. I offered the movies, but he wasn't interested."

"Well, there aren't any good movies out."

"There are a couple I'd like to see."

"But, what about this dress?" Snow, an expert at glancing over things, like her father. "Are you sure it's appropriate?"

Emma groaned. "Now, you sound like him. I know how to dress for a party. I don't need you guys trying to hold my hand."

"We're not trying to hold your hand."

"Then maybe listen when I say I have a dress. Tell him I have a dress."

"He's just trying to look out for you, Emma. He's trying to be a good father to you now since he didn't have the chance before," Snow told her this whenever she dared to complain.

Never again would she complain to Snow, who seemed to be under the impression Leopold had not known Emma existed until a couple of years ago. That was an overload of bullshit and she was actually scared to ask Snow what Leopold told her about Emma and her mother. Big lies, she imagined, and if he could spin tall tales to his most favorite person in the world, Emma did not want to think about what else he could do.

"Look, I'm good on the party. I don't want to go to the opera," Emma said.

Snow made an odd coo like noise. "You sure? We could have a lot of fun."

"Have fun with Leopold," she said.

"He's your father, Emma," Snow said, as if Emma needed the reminder, or as if she did not know what a father was.

"Uh-huh." Emma did not want to have this conversation again. Every single time she called Leopold by name in front of Snow, they had to go through "he's your father, Emma." Snow would not take no for an answer.

"He's trying to get to know you, Emma. We both are."

Emma's jaw tensed as she almost bit her tongue. In the past year, they had gone to the opera, ballet, gala-like parties, golfing, wine-tasting, horseback riding, and even yachting. None of those were things Emma wanted to do. Whenever she suggested they do something, there were always excuses why they could not or would not do it. So, who was trying to get to know whom? She drank some of her beer and shook her head.

Get off the phone and stop drinking. She learned early on that the longer she interacted with Leopold or Snow, the more she would drink and she did not want to be her mother. She did not want her legacy to be overindulgence to cope.

"Look, I'll see you at the party. I gotta go do… a thing," Emma said. How are you this miserable at lying?

"Emma," Snow said her name in a long sigh, like somehow this was Emma's fault. "Father just wants the best for you. He wants you to find a man to take care of you, like I found David."

"Why would I need someone to take care of me? It's not the Middle Ages."

Snow laughed, like that was the most ridiculous thing she heard. "Oh, come on, Emma, everyone wants someone to love them. Father wants that for you. He wants you to find love, like I did."

Emma was not sure that was the case. Leopold probably wanted to push her onto some other man. He had to be sick of the money she had cost him throughout his life, first through her mother and now an allowance for her.

"Love with a husband," Emma said.

"Of course love with a husband, silly."

Because only a man could love a woman the way Leopold and Snow seemed to think. This only made Emma more annoyed. They were always trying to shove men in her face, like it was impossible for her to maybe want a woman. Or like it was impossible for her to not want anyone at all. She knew better than to bring that up again. They're not going to look at me like I'm stupid, even if we're on the phone.

"You might not know it, Emma, but Father is a real romantic," Snow said.

"Snow, I really gotta go," Emma replied. She heard stories of Leopold and Snow's mother, so she knew why Snow would say something like that. Unfortunately, Snow did not take into account her existence when making that statement.

"Emma…" Snow sighed, like she realized her mistake.

"Gotta go. Seriously. Talk later."

"Right. Your thing." There was something there. Something almost like disappointment, like Snow did not want to get off the phone. That disappointment could have been in a number of things, though.

The call disconnected without a goodbye from either of them. Emma chucked the phone at that point, not wanting to tempt fate. Sighing, she rubbed her palms together. Leopold and Snow acted like she was a walking embarrassment when it came to parties. They also did not seem to think it was possible for her to not want to be with a man.

"Where do they get this shit from? Why do they even bother?" Emma was sick of it. She was sick of them treating her like she did not know anything about life or like the things she wanted to do were wrong. She was sick of being the one to always go to them. They crashed her life and now seemed like they did not want her. "Well, let's give them a reason to get rid of me then."

She was done chasing them. Now, she would show them and it was up to them to do something with who she was. Leopold wanted to see her dangling on the arm of some guy like a little damsel in distress. He and Snow did not think she knew what appropriate was. Well, they did not know her very well. They were about to learn.

"Yeah, I gotta do it." Emma grabbed her phone and made a call.

-8-8-8-8-

Emma pulled up to the hotel and could already imagine the look the valet would give her when she handed him the keys to the Bug. She had seen more fancy hotels in the past year than she had in her entire life, including on the Internet. This one had a red brick drive-up, which was cool with manicured trees lining the front of polished black marble with shining lights. Maybe she was a little underdressed for the occasion. At least this one isn't at a castle like the last one.

"Ma'am?" the valet said as he opened her door. His face was scrunched a little, like he was confused.

"Don't scratch it. I'll know," she said with a grin as she slid one leg out and felt a little more confident as his eyes glided up her leg to the rest of her. He seemed quite happy to take in her fitted slacks, even if they left quite a bit to the imagination. A smile conquered her face. Well, she was appropriate enough for valets to pause and check out.

Emma climbed out of the car, glancing behind her to see the valet's eyes on her ass. She loved these pants. She walked into the hotel like she owned the place, looking for the Bourbon Ballroom. The white and gold decor inside of the hotel was enough to distract her for a moment, but then she found her way. There were a stream of finely dressed women and suited men to follow. Might possibly be a little mis-dressed, if that's a thing. It did not bother her.

The large double doors of the Bourbon Ballroom were swung open, soft music and conversation flowing from the area. The party was packed, which she expected. Being late was not part of Emma's petty plan, but possibly part of her genetic makeup. It served a purpose today as pretty much everyone Leopold invited would see her get the better of him. Maybe he would learn to accept her as she was and not try to mold her into Snow White the second, especially when she doubted he knew anything about either of them.

Before making her formal arrival, though, Emma had to go pick up her date. A giddy feeling bubbled in her stomach. This was going to be so sweet! Maybe it even had a touch of irony to it. Not that Emma had the best understanding of irony.

Emma paid for a room in the hotel. There was a method to her madness. She already knew she would need to sleep off a hangover, as was the case when she was at these boring parties, and, well, she could not very well bang an escort in her apartment. Not with the mess she left there, anyway, and not with the mess she hoped to leave in the room. Besides, it would take too long to get back to her apartment and she did not want to waste a night that she paid for, even if it was not really her money. So, first stop was to the room, where her escort should be waiting.

Emma knocked on the suite door; yes, a lovely, expensive suite. It was not really her money, so why not splurge? That was also why she hired a three thousand dollar for the night escort. Not her money, so why not go crazy? She had been doing things like this for a while. Waiting a moment, she knocked again. There was no answer.

"Just a warning, I'm coming in," Emma called as she used her card key.

There was no answer still and Emma closed the door behind her. Before she could really check out the room, the bathroom door opened and out stepped a goddess decked out in crimson and black as far as Emma was concerned. She twitched at the sight as the woman smirked at her.

"I do hope you're Emma," she said.

Emma cleared her throat and prayed to whoever was listening that she did not sound like an idiot when she replied. "I am. You're Regina?" Nailed it!

"I am. I was expecting you twenty minutes ago." It was almost like she was scolding Emma.

"Yeah, being on time isn't really my thing." Emma shrugged. "I'm here now."

Regina looked he up and down. "It's your money. Interesting outfit."

Emma looked down at herself, wearing one of her favorite suits. It was jet black and fit her like she was poured into it, as that was one of the things she spent Leopold's money on. She had a closet full of tailor-made suits and shirts and ties made of material she had never heard of until she had the money to hear about it. Regina stepped to her and touched her lapel. Emma's stomach erupted into a thousand butterflies.

"Acceptable. Qin silk is no small feat for a suit," Regina said.

"What? You thought I couldn't afford you?" Emma asked, folding her arms across her chest and arching an eyebrow for a moment.

Regina looked her up and down. "It's not about affording. It's about matching."

Emma had no idea what that meant. "We do match since I'm pretty much in a tux. It's black tie and everything." She could not wait to walk into that party decked out in her suit. I'll show him a damsel in distress.

"Yes, but we got lucky as my gown goes well with this and is also made of Qin silk. You cannot pair Qin silk with any random material, not on yourself or your partner."

Again, Emma had no idea what that meant, but Regina sounded like she knew exactly what she was talking about. She felt it was safe to say Regina would be able to navigate the rich aristocrats they would have to deal with. It was one of Regina's main selling points when Emma went through the different escorts.

"Are you ready to go?" Emma asked. She could hardly wait to see Leopold's reaction to them. Hell, she would like to see Snow's reaction as well. It would give her a better understanding where she stood with Snow.

"Yes, I'm ready. I was just touching up my makeup," Regina replied and then she tilted her head slightly. "Unless you want to brief me beforehand."

"Not sure what I'd have to brief you for. The agency said you're comfortable with wealthy nobility and that's what we're dealing with." What more needed to be said? If Regina had done one of these parties before, then she knew how they all were.

Regina arched an eyebrow. "Are you new to the peerage?"

Emma shrugged. "You could say that." In fact, she had not even known "peerage" was a word until she got yanked into the crowd.

"Then perhaps you don't know they don't like to be kept waiting."

"Oh, no, I'm very aware. It's just screw them." Emma snickered as she put her hands in her pockets.

Regina chuckled. "Yes, I can get behind that attitude. So, I shouldn't be expected to act like the perfect little princess?" The pout that went with the question made Emma curious to see how Regina's perfect little princess acted. There was another twitch and Emma worried she might have to adjust herself. Hey, hey, hey, calm down. Can't show up Leopold pitching a tent. Although, his reaction to that would probably be interesting.

"Maybe later." Emma wiggled her eyebrows.

The way molten brown eyes ran up and down Emma's body did not help matters. "Yes, maybe later."

Emma swallowed hard, but maintained her cool. They left the room and took the elevator down. At some point between there and the lavish banquet hall, their arms had linked. Emma was only half-certain she was the one who joined them. They entered the hall and it seemed like the whole party stopped to stare, like the air was sucked out of the room. Emma held her chin up high. This already felt like victory.

-8-8-8-8-

Next time: the party and the after-party.