"Hey, what's up?"
"Nothing much, I'm just calling to check in."
"To 'check in'?"
"Yeah, don't get your panties in a twist though; it's just an expression."
"Oh, they're not twisted."
"Probably a good thing."
"Sounds painful."
"Depends what you're into I guess."
"If you say so."
"What are you up to?"
"Just having dinner."
"Ugh, jealous, I'm still at work! What are you having?"
"Uh... fruit salad?"
"Fruit salad? Really?"
"Yeah."
"You? You're eating a fruit salad?"
"Well, it's more just grapes really."
"Just grapes?"
"Yeah."
"...Are they fermented by any chance?"
"Uh..."
"You're having wine for dinner, aren't you?"
"... Maybe."
"Emma!"
The blonde chuckles as she sips at her glass, pulling her feet up underneath her on the old threadbare sofa. She reaches beside her to pluck a few M&Ms from the bowl on the side table- the idea of a 'snack bowl' an odd concept revered by her housemate and one which she suspects has been racking up a serious grocery bill since she's moved in- and tosses them expertly into her mouth; her words muffled slightly by the colourful chocolate.
"I've got candy too though, so it's all good."
"That's not a meal, you idiot!"
"Says who?"
"Me. I'm coming over."
"Oh no you're not!"
"Am too! I have a fridge-load of quiche that needs to be eaten. It's stilton and broccoli; probably the closest you're gonna get to eating any sort of greenery."
"Shut up, I eat vegetables all the time."
"Fries don't count."
"Shit, what are you, my mother?"
"Nope; your concerned friend, armed with quiche and a movie."
"Oh god, please tell me we're not watching some Bridget Jones type crap."
"Oh, you mean a movie that was nominated for an Oscar? Or are we only watching movies vouched for by Billy Hammer or whatever his name is?"
"Billy Chainsaw, and no, I just don't want to watch some girl bawling her eyes out about her pathetic love life."
"You should be a counsellor, Emma, you really should."
"Oh, bite me!"
"Nah, I'll pass, besides, you already have someone to do that for you-"
"-Ruby!"
"What?! Am I wrong?"
"I am not discussing this with you-"
"-over the phone? Right, got it. I'll be over in an hour or so and you can tell me all about it then."
"You know I'll leave you standing outside my building, right? I'll do it!"
"Yeah, but I also know that Mary Margaret gets in around the same time and she won't."
"You think?"
"Nah, she's too nice."
"And that would make me?"
"A bitch."
"Charming!"
"Ah, you know I love you really!"
"Christ..."
"And from that heartfelt response I can tell you're just head over heels for me, too!"
"Why do I put up with you?"
"I just told you! I'm irresistible! Now go pour a second glass of wine and I'll see you in a bit!"
Rolling her eyes and chucking the house phone back in its cradle, the Sheriff grins and stretches cattily. She pads lightly into the kitchen to check the fridge; already having worked her way through the majority of the wine that rests on the coffee table and silently hoping Mary Margaret has thought to buy more. After rummaging around various shelves with growing doubt, she has a cunning epiphany; checking the salad drawer and finding a bottle of chardonnay hidden amongst the carrots.
"Clever, but not quite clever enough!"
She smirks, immensely pleased with herself. Pulling herself up onto the kitchen counter- God, why must that woman store everything so high up?! And I'm fucking taller than her as well!- she snatches down two more glasses with the intent to place them in the fridge to chill. Swinging herself back down, she winces at a sharp ache low on her hip. The pain is not entirely unpleasant, but a quick inspection of the area confirms that her acrobatics have served to open up the shallow graze left by the Mayor that afternoon.
"Ah well, badge of honor."
She grabs some kitchen towel and blots it on the bar of soap that lies beside the sink, rubbing at the laceration to her hip indifferently in an attempt to save her shirt from becoming stained. A sharp rap at the door has her jerking back in surprise, and she swears loudly as she hits her elbow on the countertop and drops the slightly reddened towel.
Making her way over to the door, she wishes- not for the first time- that they were in the possession of a peephole; not really all that fond of surprise visits. Opening the door just enough to peer through, she raises an eyebrow in surprise.
"Regina?"
"Good evening, dear."
The brunette breezes past her without waiting for an invitation, and the Sheriff follows her distractedly, feeling suddenly like a guest in her own apartment.
"Were you... Were you wanting something?"
"That, Miss Swan, is an interesting question, don't you think?"
"Uh... I guess... Look, not that I don't want you here or anything but-"
"-Miss Blanchard is due home within the hour?"
"Yeah."
Emma shrugs apologetically, before carrying on in a strangely timid voice.
"Actually, Ruby just called to say she was coming over and I think the three of us are going to watch a movie..."
She's not sure what brings her to make this little confession, but there is some small part of her that is intuitive enough to know that the Mayor will be upset should she find out about such a meeting of her own accord. Smiling tentatively, the blonde pulls back her hair into a loose ponytail, her eyes bright behind her glasses; an item of attire saved only for wearing when in her apartment and one which the brunette loathes to admit she finds strangely sexy.
"I... I'd ask you if you wanted to join, but..."
"I would rather choke down a mouthful of dirt, Miss Swan."
"...I'll take that as a 'no, thank you', shall I?"
Emma grins amiably, white teeth flashing as her cheeks dimple, and the darker woman doesn't hesitate to wipe the expression off her face as she steps authoritatively forwards and claims the blonde's lips with her own.
She has found herself distracted since the Sheriff left her office that afternoon; overwhelmed at the uncharacteristic good humor that had been shared- untainted- between them, and she has not let it go forgotten that she never did get around to finishing what she'd started when nipping playfully at tempting pale flesh. Speaking quietly against parted lips, she keeps her hands firmly laced around the younger woman's waist, her breath heavy and gaze deep.
"How long before your merry band of assholes shows up?"
"... Forty five minutes, give or take."
"You're sure?"
"I- I think so..."
"...Best play it safe."
And with that she pushes the blonde forcefully against the kitchen island, delighting in the surprise that alights the Sheriff's face. She moves quickly, roughly, viciously, and she has the younger woman's jeans and underwear halfway down her thighs before the latter can even take in what's happening. Pressing Emma firmly into the beaten wood, she enters her with two slender fingers, causing the blonde to cry out in shock.
There are elements to the brunette's current savagery that bring back thoughts of their less than consensual tryst back in the Sheriff's Station, but these memories only serve to highlight the difference in the Mayor's actions in the here and now to back then. It doesn't go unnoticed by the blonde that Regina wets her fingers swiftly with her tongue before her attack; an unnecessary precaution, but a precaution just the same. Nor does she miss the way the brunette rests her hand on the hard surface of the kitchen island, creating a buffer between gnarled wood and her tailbone as she slams into her forcefully.
"R-Regina! Fuck!"
The Sheriff's hands flutter madly between clawing behind her at the island's counter top to keep herself steady and clinging desperately to the Mayor as the darker woman maintains her relentless pace.
"Fuck! Stop! No, wait, actually don't!"
Regina chuckles huskily, doing her best to brush at soft lips, but with the way the younger woman squirms beneath her this is no easy feat. Sensing the Sheriff is close to peaking, she slams her weight roughly against the blonde; acting as a support as the Sheriff comes undone.
As with the darker woman's style of ministration, the blonde's climax is violent almost to the brink of pain, and the Mayor removes her fingers quickly, folding the Sheriff within an oddly protective embrace as the latter shakes weakly. Stroking sweat dampened curls, Regina smirks against the flushed flesh of Emma's cheek, holding her tight as the younger woman's tortured breath tickles her throat.
"I do hate to leave things uneven..."
"That... That was so far from settling the score, Regina..."
The brunette smiles, the blonde's hoarse muttering heavy with exertion but free from any signs of irritation or anger.
"Then it looks like you'll just have to think of a way to repay me, dear!"
"Oh, god, not this again!"
But Emma's words are tainted with laughter as she pulls her jeans up shakily and pushes her hair from her face.
"I suggest you hop in the shower, Miss Swan; you have a very rosy 'just fucked' look about you."
"You are pure evil, you know that?"
"... It has been said."
Dark eyes glitter in surprise as the blonde claims a decidedly soft kiss from scarlet lips and the Mayor steps back with a small smile.
"Enjoy your evening, dear. I know I will."
The Sheriff's eyes widen at this rather ambiguous statement and she clears her throat shyly. Accompanying her guest to the door, she bids her a passionate goodnight, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright.
Regina makes her way briskly down the building's shabby staircase, her manner purely business-like. She is curiously surprised by herself, and her willingness to allow Emma to enjoy her evening's proposed activities without a little more fuss. She could put this down to the fact that she is logically aware that what the Sheriff does on her own time really isn't any of her business, but she knows her own heart well enough to recognize that she is a woman to whom envy comes with painful ease.
No, however twisted the idea may be- and she'd be the first to admit it- she appropriates a sly smirk as she knows for a fact that the young blonde isn't going to be thinking about anybody else for a while.
Least of all the promiscuous little waitress.
Possessiveness is a risky business... Particularly where the Sheriff is concerned... You would do well to keep such thoughts from becoming obvious to the young woman herself...She has made it clear she regards the young brunette with no carnal intent... Best to keep any form of jealousy hidden if it can't be disposed of. Emma is not the sort to see such envy as flattering.
Yes, she supposes such precautions would be wise. She can't deny, however, the beautiful sensation of elation that spreads warmly through her body at what has been a day of simple enjoyment with the younger woman, even with her ominous request to 'talk'. In fact, that they have ended this evening on such good terms despite that... Well...
Smiling, she makes her way swiftly to her Benz parked a block and a half away, oblivious to the dark coals that follow her every movement.