Regina watches silently as the blonde goes about pulling on her pants which have dried mercifully quickly with the aid of the radiator. Emma dresses herself lazily, standing around in just her jeans and bra as she checks the answer machine for messages. Catching the brunette's stare, she offers an impish grin and pulls her hair back into a messy pony-tail; the action serving to flex her stomach muscles appetisingly. The Mayor rolls her eyes with a smirk.
"Not that I'm not enjoying the show or anything, but were you planning on getting dressed at any point, dear? Only, public decency laws go out the window if the Sheriff herself can't abide by them."
"Huh, now there's a fun thought... Just imagine-"
"-I'd rather not, Miss Swan; not everyone in the town is in quite as... Delectable... Shape as you are..."
"Delectable?"
"You can look it up when you get home."
"I know what it means! I've just never been complemented so by one so... Beguiling... As you are."
"Are you mocking me, Sheriff?"
"Mocking you? Surely not, Madame Mayor!"
Emma offers a playful flicker of her tongue between her teeth before turning and pulling on her dirtied shirt, not bothering with the wisp of an undershirt which still rests over the radiator. She stalks over to her desk, buttoning herself up as she goes, before taking a seat and playing with a stray curl of hair between her fingers as she glances up at the brunette.
"Why are you staring at me?"
"I'm not..."
"Could have fooled me."
Regina sighs and gets up to make her way to the chair across from the Sheriff's. She fastens the clasp of her dress pants primly- tucking her shirt back in place- while striving to ignore the debauched dampness of the material between her legs.
As has so frequently been the case, their love-making had been hard and fast. Once she had managed to wrestle herself from Regina's tight embrace, the blonde had proceeded to bear down on the darker woman with an animalistic display of lust; all tongue and heat as her fingers had found their desired destination with talented ease. It had taken only a short number of minutes before the brunette had been shaking and clenching beneath her.
The Mayor ponders this thought with a sense of disquiet. She would in no way argue that she had not enjoyed the Sheriff's amorous attentions- the wetness so candidly present beneath ivory lace speaks volumes- but she can't help feeling a little agitated none the less.
She would have liked to have held the blonde a little longer.
To appreciate her vitality.
Am I supposed to continue as though nothing has happened?... I'm not sure that I can...
No. But there is also no way of explaining her current predicament to Emma, who remains excruciatingly naive to recent events.
"You're doing it again."
"What's that, dear?"
"Staring at me."
Regina huffs irritably, but continues to hold the younger woman's bright gaze as it falls on her. The Sheriff raises an eyebrow curiously, before diverting her attention to the papers which litter her desk.
"Did you want something else?"
For a moment, the brunette cringes at Emma's words, but when the blonde glances back up, there is none of her patent stoic impatience, only simple intrigue, and the Mayor supposes she can understand the question; she has never before stuck around after their carnal pleasures have been completed.
"I..."
I what? I'm glad you're alive? I'm sorry!? I just want to be around you a little longer?... Is that so terrible?
"No, Miss Swan, that will be all."
The blonde frowns as Regina pushes herself from the seat she has so recently taken. She's pretty sure she's missed some small shift in atmosphere- some sort of 'sign' from the brunette- but she can't quite place what it might have been. Watching the older woman's back as she strides elegantly towards the door, she runs the tip of her tongue thoughtfully between her teeth before attempting to shrug her confusion away.
"I trust you're feeling well enough to be left to fend for yourself, Sheriff?"
The Mayor raises a brow as she reaches the doorway, turning to regard the blonde with an abrupt air of indifference.
"Yeah, I feel fine... I guess I really must've slipped or something... "
The Sheriff's brow creases as she inwardly finds herself doubting this explanation, but it is the only one she has, and so she merely lets her expression soften and shoots the brunette a friendly smile.
"It's all good!"
"I'm glad... Well, farewell, my dear."
"See you."
Regina offers a curt nod before disappearing into the hallway where she pauses a moment to collect her thoughts. Running a hand distractedly over her brow, she tries to battle away the odd sense of grief which still lingers. Grief... And hurt.
She scolds herself for it.
You are a fool. You know full well that the Sheriff is- at best- emotionally stunted, and really, what did you expect? That she would somehow grasp the magnitude of what could have happened? That she should possess the same hateful smoldering cauldron of emotions you currently find yourself in possession of? Stop this. Emma lives. That should suffice.
Yes, but she shouldn't. It shouldn't be possible. Not without-
"Enough!"
The Mayor mutters angrily; storming down the hall and to her car. She catches a glimpse of black paint marring obnoxious yellow as she settles behind the wheel and sighs. She briefly contemplates getting back out of her Benz to try and erase the accusatory scrape, but eventually decides against it.
She doubts the blonde will notice it anyway.
Strolling leisurely along the sidewalk, Emma sips appreciatively at the sweet concoction pleasantly numbing her hand. She is no doctor, but she imagines that if she were to ask a member of the profession, they would agree a root beer float to absolutely be the best medicine to ward off any further fainting spells.
"Hey! Kid! Henry!"
She yells cheerfully as she spots the boy's small form up ahead. Henry turns quickly, peering about before spotting the blonde and breaking into a wide grin. She jogs a little to catch up with him before falling neatly into step as he proceeds to walk on.
"Emma! What are you doing? Don't you have work?"
"Yeah, but I took a break to get provisions."
She shakes the large plastic cup from the Diner to emphasize her point, before offering it to the young brunet as he extends a small hand in eager request.
"Are you headed home?"
"Nah, I have a session with Archie."
Henry smiles and hands the blonde back her drink as they near the station. Glancing at her curiously as she continues past the logical cut-through point in favour of remaining at his side, he stops and regards her inquisitively.
"Did you want something else, Emma?"
"Huh... Oh, no, I was just thinking..."
She frowns, inwardly a little offended at his apparent dismissal although she knows she shouldn't be.
"Okay...?"
"Well, have a good session, kid. I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Uhuh, I want to show you something in my book!"
"Henry..."
"No, it's really important! I swear!"
"Okay, well, we'll look at it tomorrow then."
Henry beams, hurrying off up the street with a brief wave and a yelled goodbye. Emma grins and turns back to the station, tossing her empty soda cup in the trashcan outside.
"Did you want something else?"
She pauses with her hand on the door, brow furrowing. With a sigh she enters the building, she trudges down the hall to her office as the reasoning behind the brunette's abrupt departure dawns on her slowly.
Oh, come on, it was a fucking legitimate question! It's hardly my fault she took it so personally.
What... Like you took it personally when Henry asked you the very same thing, you mean?
"Fuck."
Rolling her eyes and collapsing into her chair, she stares moodily at the bars that line the opposite wall. She supposes she can understand how her question may have been misconstrued. She recalls the Mayor's evident distress when she had regained consciousness; the image of Regina crying- actually crying- filling her with a heavy sense of unease which borders on guilt.
The brunette had shown her an uncharacteristically overt display of kindness.
And she... Well, she had fucked her, before basically enquiring- however indirectly- what the hell she was still hanging around for.
"Goddammit, Swan, you're an asshole."
Blowing air up at the stray curls that fall over her forehead, she drums her fingers pensively on her desk before giving in to better instinct and reaching for her bag. Rummaging through her collective crap, she finally finds what she's looking for and pulls it out with a sigh.
shrrkkk
shrkkk
Regina frowns as she cocks her head to the side, placing the book she reads carefully on her lap and listening intently to the silence that fills her bedroom. After a moment's pause, she picks up the faint crackling once more. With her frown deepening, she climbs from her bed and wanders out into the hall to investigate.
By the time she is halfway to Henry's room, she has guessed the source of the curious humming. Sighing, and pushing open his bedroom door, she spies the accusatory item easily. Stalking over to her son's nightstand, she regards the walkie with a raised brow; unsure how to proceed. At a loss of whether to simply ignore the insistent crackling as a small red light on the side of the phone indicates an attempt at communication, or whether to answer it and berate the Sheriff for using it in the first place, she hesitantly depresses the button on the front which lets the user of its twin know their call is being received.
Well, if nothing else, it should be interesting to see how long she rambles on thinking it's Henry before running out of insipid crude slang and nonsense.
"Regina?"
The brunette jerks away from the walkie; startled. She battles down the childish urge to peer out through the window or beneath the bed, opting instead to simply eye the phone warily.
"Regina, I know that's you..."
Perching hesitantly on her son's bed, the brunette picks up the walkie and depresses the second button on its side which allows her to communicate.
"Miss Swan... What on earth...?"
"Hey! I... Umm... Crap..."
She frowns as she makes out the Sheriff's low muttering- presumably to herself- and waits impatiently for the blonde to regain at least a token of eloquence.
"I... I don't think I do feel very well actually..."
"Really? Are you serious? What's wrong? Miss Swan, you should call Dr Whale if you-"
"Ugh... No..."
"What?... What do you mean 'no'?"
"I... don-"
Regina's brow furrows deeper as the line crackles with static; struggling to make out the blonde's words.
"I can't hear you, you're breaking up. Are you seriously feeling sick?... Emma?... Ok, I'm coming down to the station..."
"No, no!... No, I... I think I'm ok for now... I just... Well... Maybe I shouldn't be, umm, left alone later... You know... Because of what happened earlier... Mary Margaret's out tonight, and... Well... I'm not sure if it's... If it's such a great idea..."
Finally cottoning on, the brunette's lips form a slow smirk as she can practically feel Emma cringing through her stumbled excuses through the phone.
Smooth, dear. Real smooth.
Feeling her cheeks flush slightly, she adopts a neutral tone and replies silkily.
"No, you're probably right... It seems completely logical that you should manage absolutely fine by yourself for the next few hours, and then suddenly require assistance later tonight...When Henry's in bed... At my place...At, say, nine o' clock?"
"Well, if you think it's best, then I'm not going to argue with you."
"...I'll see you tonight, Miss Swan."
"If you insist. Over and out."
Rolling her eyes as she disconnects the call, Regina makes her way back to her room to finish the chapter of her book. She tries, but fails, to wipe a small grin off her face.