A/N: Enjoy :) Please, please, please review :)
Pulling open the basement door, the Queen is met with a flurry of gold as Emma runs at her. What it is the Saviour means to do, she has no clue. Whatever it had been, the blonde fails, as the darker woman takes a swift and graceful step back, sending the Sheriff spilling out into the hallway like a feral animal. The brunette's quick thinking catches Emma by surprise, and she staggers slightly as she struggles to find her footing; having expected to collide with the haughty bitch head-on.
"Careful, dear."
The Queen warns lazily, smirking when the blonde whirls around to face her with an angry flash of her teeth.
"What the hell do you think you're playing at?!"
Emma demands, and the brunette is intrigued to note that the younger woman's earlier aloofness has been replaced by a small shadow of fear.
"Forgive me, I needed to think, and your generally inane chatter makes that difficult.
"Think about what?"
Emma asks, brushing herself down and composing herself a little. She regards the Queen apprehensively, entirely thrown off to be stood face-to-face with someone she knows so well and yet now barely at all. Dark eyes that she has always thought of as very pretty- if occasionally a little cruel- bore into her intently, and the gentle cast to the Mayor's fine features that lend her the side that the blonde has always found pleasantly approachable- given the circumstances!- is nowhere to be seen. She has grown accustomed to Regina looking at her with a subtle softness reflecting their changing relationship, and even before, back when the darker woman had professed to hate her, there had still been a hint of humanity beneath the tactile distaste.
Now, there is no humanity. No softness. The Queen looks at her with a kind of terrible hunger, and she finally understands everything she's read written on the pages of Henry's book. She'd believed them before, once finally accepting the reality of her position and the queer fate of the town, but to understand is something else entirely. What she has seen drawn, written and played-out by the Evil Queen has been almost laughable. A grand display of airs and graces fit for a pantomime. She'd believed the others that Regina had been feared, but perhaps not entirely been able to see it for herself, despite having read a seemingly endless list of despicable acts brought on by the woman she has come to- privately!- think of as her closest friend. Back when The Curse was still in place, she'd found it hard to believe Henry's tales, even with the brunette snapping at her heels and doing anything in her power to hurt her. Yes, Regina had been a bitch to her when they'd first become acquainted, but she'd been no worse really than many of the women she'd shared her time in prison with; dominant women with a need to crush any they might dislike under their heel and twist.
Now, the woman that had so recently inhabited the shell currently stood smirking at her stops by to chat amiably over wine or coffee so frequently she occasionally forgets to knock. Especially since Robin passed away.
She wonders if this new, vile version of Regina feels anything about the archer or the people she has come to befriend- hell, rely on!- or if she is truly as cold as her eyes suggest.
They're still pretty, those eyes. Still seemingly bottomless and shrouded with enviably thick lashes that sweep outwards perfectly as if drawn. But there's nothing behind them; nothing good.
"What are you doing here, Regina?"
She asks in as calm a tone as she can manage, and she strives hard to keep from fidgeting with the cuff that cuts in uncomfortably tight around her wrist. If she does that, she imagines the darker woman will find pleasure in the fact, and right now, she has no intention of pleasuring Regina.
Odd choice of wording, Swan...
"You kissed me."
She states quietly, and she inflects the last word almost as though asking a question. As though she doesn't quite believe it.
"Yes."
The Queen agrees, offering nothing further on the matter, and she watches as the blonde swallows and averts her eyes.
"Regina, what do you want?"
Emma tries again, and the brunette runs her tongue over her bottom lip thoughtfully as she notes with great amusement that the fabled and all-powerful Saviour struggles to keep her voice from cracking.
"I want what I've been denied all these years. I want revenge."
"But why? After everything... I thought... I mean, you were doing so well! Why would you go and ruin all of that now? What about everything that's happened between my mom and yourself? Between you and I?!"
"What happened was you poisoned me! All of you! You made me weak. You made me a pathetic shadow of what I truly am, and for that, there must also be retribution."
"No. We helped you! And you helped us! There's nothing weak about the way you've changed."
"...This may surprise you, Miss Swan, but I don't have much time for a psych-session from yourself. Not my style, as it were... You can keep your hero-speech to yourself. I'm done listening to you."
"Then why seek me out?"
Emma replies boldly, before taking a step back- eyes wide and mouth open in shock- when the brunette smacks her smartly across the face.
"You hit me..."
She breathes, stating the obvious, and but there is no pain in her voice, only complete and utter surprise.
"I didn't seek you out-"
The Queen corrects furiously.
"-You came wandering into the graveyard and stumbled upon me. I was thinking you might be your mother and that I'd have a chance to choke the weed once and for all. As it was, upon realising it wasn't Snow, but yourself, I saw you as what you truly are, dear; an opportunity."
"An opportunity?"
"Must I really spell it out for you? Are you honestly as idiotic as I've always feared?... I suppose I shouldn't find myself so surprised... Well, Miss Swan, you see, to hurt your mother is a sweet and pleasurable dream that I entertain with pure bliss, but it also threatens to be over too soon. I have fantasised about her demise for years, and I imagine my relief in her disposal will be shadowed with a sense of grief that her torment might finally be over... To hurt Snow by hurting you, though... Well. That promises to be an endeavour I will enjoy immensely while taking my time."
"But, why do you want to hurt me? I thought we were okay, now?!... I mean, even as the Queen, there's no real beef between the two of us. I was a baby when you last saw me!"
Emma frowns, still touching her fingers to her cheek where the Queen's cruel slap burns scarlet.
"True, I suppose you're right in a way. I have no issue with you other than that you exist, dear. In doing so, you make Snow White happy, and that is something I can't allow. I suppose if you add to this the fact that I find you insufferably self-righteous and a continual thorn in my side, using you to hurt your mother more deeply than I could ever hope to accomplish by facing her one-on-one will be a practice of great joy for me. You mean too little to me to warrant revenge, Emma, but for all of the times that you've irritated me and sought to best me, I will relish your undoing quite nicely."
A faint and swiftly hidden look of hurt finds the blonde's eyes in the face of being told she means nothing to the darker woman, but the Queen catches it before it can be shielded and smiles.
"It is odd, don't you think, Saviour? The bond you've forced between us. Me being the woman who wanted your parents dead, and you being as prickly as you are..."
Green eyes narrow, and while Emma finds herself stung by the words the brunette intentionally chooses to stab at her, she replies confidently; knowing she speaks the truth.
"I didn't force anything. It was just something that happened."
"Hmm... You like me, don't you, Miss Swan?"
The Queen goads, and the blonde shows her teeth as the brunette's enquiry drips with disdain as though she's speaking to a fool of something detestable and full of shame. Lowering her hand from her smarting cheek and squaring her shoulders, Emma answers back cooly
"Until about an hour ago, I did, yeah. You like me, too."
She speaks in the low, dangerously assertive tone that the Queen remembers well from the days before the little idiot broke The Curse, and her full lips curl into a smile as she agrees silkily.
"My lesser-half seems to have liked you, this is true. Me- my true self- I am undecided."
"Hmm."
Emma replies, foolishly adopting an expression of mild bemusement that is a great step down from the fear that had recently escaped and allowed itself to be enjoyed. The Queen snaps at her angrily
"What? What 'hmmm'?"
She demands, and the blonde shrugs; a lazy, boyish gesture when she does it, and one the brunette despises.
"It's just, if you're truly the Evil Queen and stuff, I was kind of expecting deep expressions of hate and, well, evil. There's not much to have me quaking in my boots when you can't even decide if you might like me fine after all."
"Oh, Miss Swan, I will give you a reason..."
The brunette warns softly, and the blonde's eyes flicker to soft lips and she bites her tongue.
"And I am undecided as to how I feel about you because I find you, in some ways, rather amusing. It is nothing born of friendship or care like you seem to have fooled my weaker-self into feeling for you. Nothing like that. But, you're gutsy and feisty and I like that. I believe toying with you- destroying you- will be fun. That's all there is to it. It excites me."
"It does?"
Emma asks uncertainly, all of her previous bravado seeming to drain from her face as she regards the brunette nervously.
"Oh yes."
Regina agrees pleasantly.
"I believe you're going to prove quite entertaining."
"What are you going to do?"
The blonde whispers, remembering how Regina- her Regina- had laughed warmly when they'd made their way to New York in her bug so recently; the situation tense, but their camaraderie strong, genuine and comforting.
"Whatever I want, dear... I'm going to do whatever I want."
The Queen promises, her smirk dripping with sin.