Emma found herself propped up on a few crates, taking a small break, reading a new magazine on a new Harley Davison motorcycle she dreamed of having. Yellow, bright as a canary. Her business selling drinks in her club was going well, but not enough to buy her this bike.
"What crate are you on?" She asked a young girl who was a little slower in feeling up vodka bottles than the others due to watching a rerun of Judge Judy on television.
Emma had a trick up her sleeve when it came to vodka. She would dump out the liquor, fill the bottles up with water until the very top, and add three fingers of vodka inside. It saved her money. And drunks never knew the difference.
"Fifteen." The girl said, her eyes moving back to the arguing judge on television.
Green eyes looked up behind their magazine, until Emma dropped it aside. "Guys, it's nine-thirty." She informed them, feeling on a tight schedule today. Her eyes moved back to the younger girl, deciding that her dream of picturing herself on top of that yellow Harley would have to wait.
"It's too much," she murmured, walking over to the young girl. "It's too much. It's three fingers from the top." Leaning in she placed three of her fingers against the bottle's shoulder. "Not one, three." She reached for the girl's bottle and a shot glass, pouring the liquid inside. "It's a rerun, April. She slept with her cousin, crashed the car, the baby's not his." She handed her the glass. "What's that taste like to you?"
Just to be clear, Emma would never have underage girl's working here. She's been to jail and she wasn't going back. It was bad enough Regina had to be locked up.
April downed the shot, allowing the taste to linger right on her tongue, showering her taste buds. "Vodka."
"Vodka. Exactly." Emma nodded, leaning in to quickly wipe away the corner of April's mouth. "Except I don't want vodka. I want vodka and water. And do you want to know why?"
"Uh, sure."
"Because when you're drunk, it tastes like vodka."
"Right," April nodded, smirking along with Emma.
"Right," Emma winked, leaving them to do their work for the night while she headed out into the balcony of the club before going down the steps and out to the front to be away from so many people. She heard her phone chime, which she quickly reached for inside the pocket of her leather jacket. The corner's of her lips tilted up into a tiny smirk, her brow lifted at the screen name: JLBRD popping up with a text message.
Where is the cemetery? 12pm? Be on time!
"Oh, missed you too, baby." She said mockingly, grinning at her phone screen upon reading another incoming message.
I did miss you, you idiot.
Regina always could read her mind. It was scary. But it made Emma smile.
It was eleven-fifty in the morning, and Regina stood in front of a white marbled wall, filled with the plots of her mother and father. Both the names Cora Mills, Henry Mills displayed in gold letters. Her brown eyes focused on her father's name.
"You better be in there, daddy," she murmured. Not that she wanted her father to be truly dead. But he had fooled the police before and even his own family of his own death before to be able to escape being locked up, which later would turn out to be a lie.
That was all fine and games when Regina was a twenty-something woman. Now? She was forty-three and too tired to play her father's guessing games whether he was deceased or not.
She inhaled a sharp breath, letting it out slowly along with her spoken words, "You can come on out, Sidney."
Sidney cleared his throat upon coming out from around the corner of the plots, his eyes looking in shame for not hiding better. Then again, he knew Regina's radar always detected his presence. She was good that way.
"I was just paying my respects." Said Sidney, his black hat matching his black trench coat and light gray suit.
"What are you doing here?" Asked the brunette, her hands buttoning up just one button on the man's coat.
"They thought I'd be the best one to talk to you."
"Hm," Regina released a low hum, a smirk exposed at the corner of her lip. "I gotta go." She moved past the man, not wanting to hear her family's don't do it, you'll end up in jail again speech. She knew it all too well.
Sidney followed right beside Regina, listening to her heels click along the marbled floor.
"He didn't want you to do this, Regina," he motioned toward her father's grave.
"Do what?" She asked innocently, facing the man again.
"Well, whatever it is he wouldn't tell us you were going to do."
She let out a light chuckle. Her father always knew she couldn't stay away from this life. This is who she was.
"Look, Gina," he continued after another one of her approving hums. "Sometimes knowing the job will work is satisfaction enough. You don't actually have to do it."
"What else did he say?" Regina's smirk slowly grew as she turned on the balls of her feet and continued to walk through the cemetery.
"He said it was brilliant," Sidney replied, hearing an oh escape Regina's lips. "And that you would probably end up back in prison."
"I'm not going to end up back in prison, okay?" Regina turned on the balls of her feet to face Sidney again. Him and her father went way back, he knew about every job pulled off by every Mills family member ever.
And he knew Regina. She had a spark that other Mills never did. He knew this plan of hers was still a go.
Both their heads turned to the sound of a distant car horn. The corner of the brunette's lip tilted upward into a tiny smirk upon seeing a bright yellow Volkswagen parked off to the side.
"I have to get going," Regina's voice was soft as the kiss she placed against the man's cheek. She had missed Sidney, and she knew he worried.
"Be careful," he smiled kindly.
"You're looking sharp," she smirked, walking away while pulling out her umbrella to shield her from the light drizzle as she walked up to the yellow beetle.
Tossing her umbrella inside the back seat of Emma's car, she hopped right in, immediately being pulled by the blonde for a tight hug and a huge kiss on the lips.
"Take it easy, I've been locked up for too long, remember?" Regina warned her with a smirk.
"Aw, and I just thought you changed your number." Emma winked, not hating the idea of rough sex with her right now.
"Just drive," Regina motioned toward the road, while Emma smirked, turning her key into the ignition and driving off.
"Did you get the credit line?" Asked Regina.
"Not yet," Emma's wrist casually rested upon her steering wheel as she said this.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't know what it's for." There was a hint of sarcasm in Emma's voice, which Regina wasn't equipped to deal with right now.
"Oh, God," she rolled her eyes and released a heavy sigh all at the same time. How could she forget what a child Emma could be.
"Don't do that." Said Emma, throwing a glare right at the brunette.
"Do what?"
Emma sighed and rolled her eyes in a mocking manner, very much like Regina.
"That would be my, 'I've just been in jail for five years and my girlfriend lets me down,' face."
"Oh, I'm still your girlfriend?" Emma asked sarcastically. "For a minute, I thought I was just your partner."
"You're both." Regina glared before looking ahead at an old looking building that was well secured once Emma parked her car. "Nice place. Fenced, barbed-wired."
Emma shifted in her seat, her arm casually resting against the car seat. She waited.
"Here, I got you something." Regina handed the blonde the bottled perfume.
Emma reached for the box, listening to the bottle rattle just inside it. The corners of her lips tilted into a tiny smirk upon Regina remembering her favorite perfume.
"Can I return something you stole?" Emma's eyes narrow.
Regina chuckled, "If you have a problem with stealing, my darling, then you're not going to like the rest of this conversation."
"What, we're going to shoplift?" Emma asked, her brow raised.
"Maybe." Regina looked at the gray view outside her raindrop covered window.
"No, see, this is what you do. You make me guess, and then I'm interested." She continued after hearing a hum escape the brunette. "And then you think that just because I'm interested that I want to do it, and you know I love you so I can't say no-"
"Don't you want to do things you're interested in?" Asked the brunette.
"Well, I'm interested in having my way with you."
"Well, we know that's not gonna happen." Regina faced forward.
Emma scoffed, shaking her head. "Whatever, if you don't want to tell me-"
"It's jewels."
Another brow lifted her way.
"Spectacular, blingy, big 'ol Liz Taylor jewels that are locked up in a vault fifty feet under ground." Regina's eyes narrowed as she looked over at Emma with a raised brow of her own.
"How do we get them out of the vault?" She asked in interest.
"They're going to bring them to us." Regina smirked before exiting the car.
Well that's a new one. Emma thought, following the brunette right inside.
Emma flipped a switch that lit up the entire loft. It was gigantic. A lot more than Regina thought it would be. It gave her the feeling of a library only with furniture and a kitchen, and… A record player that she remembered being hers?
"Nice place," Regina murmured.
"Bedroom's upstairs," Emma tossed her keys along with her pile of mail onto the counter before heading into the kitchen for two beers. "You're stuff's upstairs, too. You know, I borrowed some shit," she shrugged. "Figured you weren't using it."
Regina smirked, shaking her head, feeling right at home.
That night, given that Emma left to check things out at her club, Regina decided to shower once again, straighten her hair and shuffle through all of her clothes which Emma managed to place them in the order that she knew she loved to have them.
One thing she loved about Emma was that she didn't hover or wondered what kind of trouble Regina would be getting into. She knew she could handle herself. And they didn't have to speak volumes of words to understand one another.
A smirk spread across her lips upon stopping at one of her black dresses, noticing the sticky note that had been placed on the plastic bag. Clearly left by Emma herself.
Wear this with your white trench coat. Robin will die. Literally.
With that being said, Regina pulled out her choice of wardrobe.
If not a professional thief, Regina could have been a model. Of that she was sure. Another thing she appreciated about Emma, was that she always loved it when she looked her best. And Emma had a keen eye for choosing her clothes. This black dress fitted well to every part of her body, the coat was a perfect fit that it flapped along with each step she took as she wore it open.
Robin Locksley Gallery was engraved in gold lettering just outside the glass doors. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face upon her arrival.
He was the mistake in Regina's life.
Robin had made a big name for himself in New York as an artist. Regina recognized true art, and his pieces honestly were something of mediocre next to real art. But, it's what the people liked nowadays apparently. Honestly, sometimes Regina could swear she was the only one left in the world with big dreams and exquisite/unique taste. Fools.
Various sections of portraits were displayed on the walls of the gallery, along with a table filled with the same magazine which displayed Robin's latest article. His face front and center on the cover.
"Is this the only gallery you have?" A girl asked, clearly intrigued in all of the man's wealth.
"For the moment," Robin smiled a pearly white smile. "There has been talks about opening up a gallery in Tokyo, Houston, we've talked about LA, but I don't think that's quite fitting."
"So, is this the only gallery that exists?"
Robin's face paled, his eyes wide, lips parted upon seeing Regina walk smoothly across the crowded room. Heading right toward him.
"Excuse me for just one second." He nodded at the woman, quickly rushing through the crowd and power walking in a different direction. Only to be surprised and taken off guard by Regina herself, who remained with a tiny smile across her lips.
"Hello, Robin." Her voice was as smooth as her walk.
"Oh, my God," Robin chuckled, his nerves settling inside his stomach. "I was meaning to call you. Regina, you- you look-"
"Recently incarcerated?" She finished his sentence for him, her brow slightly lifted.
"Wonderful. You look wonderful," he murmured, grunting as he felt something sharp being pressed right against his stomach. "Okay, alright." He looked around nervously.
"Oh, Robin, you always had such a pretty face," she said teasingly, her perfectly manicured nails raking slowly across his stubby cheek, enjoying the fear in his eye.
"I'll call the police," he assured her, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Do you want to know what I was taught in prison about what to do with a snitch?" She murmured, inches away from his face. Her shiv, which she worked on especially for this moment while she was locked up in her cell, was brought up to the man's throat, slicing off the first button of his overly priced shirt.
Even the tug made the man crumble like a paper bag.
"You won't kill me," he assured her, his voice trembling. "You were always better than that Regina, you were-"
"Don't pretend like you know me now, Robin," she smirked, her eyes throwing melting daggers into his soul. "Because you have no idea what I'm truly capable of."
"Is that a threat?" His brow slightly lifted.
"It's a fact."
"I wouldn't go on making any kind of facts around here, Regina. Not unless you want to end up back in prison." He grunted, this time feeling the extremely sharp shiv near his testicles. "Okay- okay-" his eyes were wide. "Just leave and I won't call the police. You have my word."
"Your word?" Regina chuckled. "I stopped believing in your word long ago. I only trust one person completely today and that is not you."
At least something satisfactory happened for Regina that night. Apart from seeing Emma again after a long five years. It was a risky and bold move, but she had dreamed of the day she would lay eyes on Robin again and watch him pale before her very eyes. Served him right for betraying her years ago