A/N: The lyrics aren't mine, they are by Darell Scott- 'Snow Queen and Drama Llama', with the pronouns altered slightly to fit the context of a f/f relationship. Please let me know what you think!
Regina blinks rapidly, as though she expects the scene before her to dissipate with the fluttering of her lashes. A large bottle of red wine rests on her ornate coffee table; a sentinel over two glasses filled to the brim which she recognizes to be from her own crockery cabinet. The room is awash with a flickering glow, and she guesses every single candle she owns- spare those she'd been enjoying in the bath- has been set out about the room and lit to create this beautiful setting. A fire roars magnificently in the hearth, casting dancing light over the woman sat on her sofa, who, after a moment's confusion, she recognizes for who she is.
"Emma...?"
No authoritative pretense. No use of the blonde's last name.
The Sheriff merely nods, once, sending soft curls tumbling gently over her shoulder, and motioning in a way that is uncharacteristically graceful that the Mayor should take a seat on the sofa opposite her. She does it as though this is her room- her space- and for now, that is exactly what it is.
The brunette doesn't move right away, but stays stood in the doorway, staring at the blonde as though seeing her for the first time.
This is Emma? Emma?!
Pulling herself together she pads lightly to her proffered seat, thankful for the fire that has warmed the stones beneath her feet. She pulls her robe to her body tightly before lowering herself against the cushions, continuing to drink in the woman sat before her.
"You look..."
The Sheriff raises an eyebrow expectantly as Regina searches for the right term.
Even her damn eyebrows are magnificent.
"Yes, well, very nice, Miss Swan."
She alters her tone to become suddenly business-like, tearing her eyes from the younger woman and straightening the hem of her robe distractedly, sniffing in distaste. Emma, meanwhile, holds herself together; deciding to focus on Regina's words, rather than her tone.
"Thank you."
She says it softly, and with none of the brittleness she usually saves for the brunette. Regina is peculiarly reminded of the first night the two met and looks up in surprise, scolding herself when her eyes linger too long, too appreciatively. She reaches down to take a sip of the wine that rests between them, glancing at the bottle curiously. Its flavor is not what she had been expecting; for one, it is delectable.
"This is good..."
"I'm glad you like it."
Again, that pleasantly soft tone, and Regina eyes the blonde warily.
Dear god, that dress fits her well...
"I wouldn't have figured you for a wine connoisseur, Sheriff."
Her remark is baited. She is deeply curious about Emma's choice of drink; the dark red wine holding a delicate nose of chocolate and pepper. It is divine, but not at all something she would have thought the blonde would pick out. She is waiting for this disarming little charade to shatter into something more familiar. She waits for Emma to cuss, to roll her eyes, to adopt her ever grating- yet really quite arousing- sarcastic drawl.
It doesn't come.
"I'm not, really. I know wine better than I like wine... Personally I prefer whisky, but, being a woman, wine is what tends to be offered. In my old line of work, anyway... And I wouldn't figure you to be particularly fond of whisky?"
Emma raises an eyebrow in question, taking a small sip from her glass. She is pretty sure that her left knee is shaking slightly, but she crosses her legs and hopes Regina doesn't notice. After all; she has done this a hundered times before. She can play a part.
She tries to imagine the brunette as just another perp.
"No, I'm not too fond of whisky..."
Silence falls over them like a shroud and the Mayor takes another sip of her drink. She is incredibly unnerved by this whole situation. She wants to let her eyes roam over to the blonde, to take in this new, intoxicating version of the Sheriff, but she is wary of doing so. Somehow she knows this is a side to Emma that is just for her, and there is something both alarming and exhilarating in that knowledge. In the back of her mind, she understands that this is all part of their ongoing game, but she also understands that this is not about her. This is about Emma.
And she wonders momentarily if the blonde is aware of this herself.
As the silence drags on, Emma fights the urge to begin fidgeting; eyes flickering up periodically to study the Mayor who keeps her own eyes cast carefully down at the half empty bottle of wine on the table.
This isn't how this was supposed to go...
She takes a final sip of wine; the potent liquid coursing through her dizzyingly, its thrumming heat indistinguishable from the blood that pounds a little sickeningly in her chest.
"...Would you like to dance?"
Regina glances up at the Sheriff- sure she has misheard her- with an expression akin to shock. The blonde's cheeks flush an alarming shade of scarlet, but she keeps her head held high and rises gracefully from the couch; offering the Mayor her hand in a way that is so charmingly formal that the brunette takes it in simple reflex.
Emma's hand is warm in hers, and she notes an odd little twitch that flutters through slender fingers- the only physical sign of the blonde's nervousness- as she is led silently into the centre of the room. She doesn't recognize the quiet melody coming from her music system to be anything she owns, and she waits uncertainly in the middle of her drawing room as the Sheriff moves to hover over the CD player; flicking quickly through the tracks before finding one to her taste and turning up the volume.
She wanders hesitantly back to where the Mayor stands and places her hands awkwardly at the brunette's waist; her fingers slipping over the silk of the older woman's bathrobe. Instinctively, Regina swaps their positions. She does so silently, not pointing out that she doubts the blonde has the first clue about leading, but simply pulling the younger woman a little closer and encircling her waist. Emma stands a fair bit taller in her heels, but when she goes to remove them, the Mayor gives a small nudge of her hand against the Sheriff's ribs, indicating she wishes things to remain just the way that they are.
The music fades as a new song begins and Regina glances up at the blonde; finally allowing herself to give in to her. Deciding that if this is all an act, she will at least get a dance out of it, and holding her closer still; her head spinning dizzily with the smell of spiced vanilla. As lyrics begin to lay themselves over the pleasant picking of the guitar, the Sheriff offers her a shy smile, and after a moment's hesitation she leans in for a taste.
They were waiting at the depot, but it wasn't for a train
They were underneath the weather; seeking shelter from the freezing rain.
Snow Queen to Drama Llama, said "you're weary to the bone!
And though I'm not accustomed to it, I invite you to my icy home ...Come on over...
I will put you on my table, I will rub you up and down
I will take a Russian fur hat, and I'll wear it like a Snow Queen crown..."
And the mountains they did tremble
As the walls came tumbling down
And the feeling it was simple
As the snow lay on the ground
Drama Llama to her Snow Queen, said, "it's you I'm dreaming of.
All my life I've been a roamer, and it's led me to this pilgrim, love.
My eyes are overflowing; hell, they are not even tears,
They're a rushing of a river that will flourish for a thousand years..."
Snow Queen to Drama Llama says "I know just what you mean;
I went to see the gypsy- he said he saw you in my childhood dream..."
And her fingers they did tremble
As her hair came tumbling down
And their loving it was simple
As their clothes lay all around...
Regina groans as soft lips find her throat; the blonde's teeth running gently against her jaw before moving back down to breathe hotly into the hollow of her collarbone, all the while continuing to sway gently to the music.
She lets her fingers glide over the luxurious fabric of the Sheriff's dress. Every now and then she runs her hands simultaneously up the younger woman's hips; collecting the fabric to bunch slightly at the waist and thus expose a flash of thigh, but the blonde continues to move against her tantalizingly, while at the same time restricting her explorations.
The Sheriff is not an excellent dancer, but neither is she poor, and though the Mayor would never admit such a thing out loud, the slight awkwardness in the way Emma allows herself to be led is peculiarly endearing.
Snow Queen and Drama Llama, they just could not make it last,
While they were living in the moment alright, they could not outlive their pasts...
It came rushing in to choke them, like a blind thief in the night;
Stealing kisses from a stranger, hoping this time they could get it right.
These masters of impermanence, they know everything must end,
Another quarter in the jukebox, and you play that song again and again...
And the mountains ceased their trembling
And the walls began to rise
And they saw what they were missing
When they opened their eyes
And the mountains ceased their trembling
And the walls began to rise
And love turned into a memory
When they made up their minds
They were underneath the weather seeking shelter from the freezing rain
(It's cold outside...let me in...let me in)
The music fades once more as another song begins and Emma presses her lips firmly against the Mayor's; hands wandering to the front of the darker woman's robe and pulling deftly at the silken tie that cinches the fabric in at her waist.
"Go to the desk..."
The Sheriff's whisper is soft in the brunette's ear; nothing like the harsh venom used the last time she had uttered the command. Regina complies with minimal hesitancy, stopping just short of the desk and turning back to regard the blonde levelly. Her dark eyes convey within them a very clear message: should Emma so much as think about repeating her stunt from last time, the game will come to an end.
In a way, this result could be argued as a victory for the blonde, and while Regina is almost certain that the Sheriff will not play her final hand now- not after the way things have changed tonight- she needs to know for certain.
Emma shakes her head, and moves to back the Mayor the rest of the way into the desk with a soft push of her thighs.
No. Not this time. This time it's different.
Pale fingers thread themselves through dark locks as the Sheriff brushes her lips against the brunette's slowly.
"I seem to remember you saying something about being left disappointed... Let's see if we can rectify that..."
It's a soft murmur; her lips never leaving the Mayor's as they whisper hot air over sensitive flesh. Regina sighs as the loosened tie of her robe is snaked gently from her body and the soft silk falls open to reveal her entirely. She runs her hand down to the hem of Emma's dress- plucking the material up pointedly- but the blonde steps quickly away with another shake of her head.
"Not yet."
The brunette frowns, but pulls herself swiftly up onto the desk; maneuvering herself into the position she'd taken on its surface the previous week. Emma moves around to where the Mayor's head rests as she had done that day, but this time her features are soft in the firelight, and she tucks her hair gently behind her ears; inadvertently making herself look disarmingly innocent, but serving the purpose of keeping heavy curls from covering her face. She runs her finger lightly over the small scar at the Mayor's lip before climbing up onto the desk- careful not to jab the brunette with her heels- and straddling the older woman's bare hips gently.
Regina marvels at the feel of soft silk contrasting with the hot flesh of Emma's bare legs against her own and raises a brow expectantly. The blonde dips her head to beg access once more, while her fingers wander softly over the bare skin of the brunette's torso.
Everything is slow, sensual, and Regina closes her eyes as the blonde caresses her breasts; first with her hands, and then- after moving to kneel between her legs- with her tongue. She drags her fingers gently up the soft length of the brunette's thighs, occasionally turning her wrist so that her fingers whisper against the darker woman's sex.
"You're so lucky..."
The Mayor opens one eye distractedly and peers down at the blonde whose tongue is currently working a wet trail down from her navel.
"Hmm?"
"You're flawless... Beautiful..."
Regina closes her eyes once more, a soft smile creeping across her lips before gasping as the Sheriff's mouth reaches its target.
"No one is flawless, dear, but I admit, I am pretty close to it."
Her words come out choked and gravelly as her breathing breaks into pleasured gasps, and she's not sure if she had meant them humorously or not. She isn't embarrassed by the Sheriff's claim; she is under much the same impression herself after all. She is surprised at the blonde's willingness to vocalize her opinion however, and, while not flattered by information she already knows, she is peculiarly touched by the gesture; understanding it to be yet another shift in their ever perplexing relationship. She wonders if Emma is aware of this also, but then two fingers slip sweetly into her slick entrance and she decides to ponder such things another time.
"Shit..."
She moves her hand down to rearrange the unruly tresses which have inevitably fallen to obscure her vision of the blonde's face. Green eyes flash up at her, and while she can tell by the blush that creeps over the Sheriff's cheeks that she is a little uncomfortable being watched performing such intimate ministrations, Emma allows her to tuck the escaped curls back in place.
The blonde quickens the pace of her fingers at the quiet urging of the Mayor, running her tongue firmly over the brunette's most sensitive spot before taking the little bundle of nerves into her mouth. Toned thighs begin to tremble tellingly around her and she curls her fingers to rub against the little raised patch of flesh at the older woman's entrance as clear moisture begins to run down her wrist.
"Oh, God, please!"
Dark eyes clamp shut and the Mayor's lithe form shudders sporadically on the desk, hands closing into tight fists and mouth open in a silent scream.
Emma waits for the darker woman to ride her pleasure out, keeping her fingers in place but easing up their frantic speed. She keeps her lips pressed to the brunette's core until shaking hands find her hair clumsily and pull her gently away.
"That was..."
Regina shakes her head, deciding she can't be bothered to find the correct term, sufficing instead to pull the younger woman back up onto her and finding her lips, caressing a soft- slightly damp- cheek with her thumb.
Emma runs her fingers through the brunette's dark hair as she leans down to hover over her lips. After what seems like hours, Regina's hands leave her face and move to her waist, pushing gently but firmly until their positions are reversed- the process a little awkward due to space- on the desk.
The brunette studies the younger woman lying beneath her intently; breathing in the lingering smell of her moisturizer and admiring the contrast of the delicate black fabric whispering across her pale skin. Blonde hair fans out around the Sheriff's head in a silken halo and Regina strokes a stray strand from her cheek before leaning down and whispering into golden tresses so quietly the words are instantly lost.
"Beautiful".