"-Henry, what are you still doing here, I-... Umm... Can I help you?"

A voice interrupts them, and Regina pulls back with a start; spilling several candy kernels into the mud as she slips the bag swiftly back into her coat pocket.

"No... No, I-"

"-Are you here to fix the monitor?"

The blonde asks, running a hand through her hair in a harried fashion as she frowns at the woman standing just a little too close to her son.

"... Yes."

Regina replies on a whim, not knowing what else to say as she doesn't want Emma barking at her to stay away from her child lest she find herself incapable of keeping up appearances and be forced to go for the younger woman's throat as she has always done when they've suffered this particular argument.

"Oh, good! I have no idea what I'm doing!"

Emma expresses her obvious relief, subsequently seeming to accept the brunette's failed offer of candy to her son without further suspicion as she beckons her inside.

"You didn't say you were here to help..."

Henry frowns at the brunette as she turns to follow the Sheriff, and Regina pauses and offers him a measured look as she supposes she shouldn't be surprised that he shows no fear in calling her out. Once upon a time, she had taken this character trait terribly personally as it had felt purely directed towards her, but she has since come to learn that the boy suffers no qualm in challenging anyone, and while she might sometimes disapprove, finding his openness rather impolite, she has come to expect his curiosity.

To respect it.

"I said I didn't fancy a tour."

She corrects with a shrug, raising her hand and bidding him goodnight before he can ask her any more questions and turning back around to follow the Sheriff inside.

"Watch your step over these wires."

Emma advises as she leads them down a dark hallway; the muffled screams and hollering of the house's patrons echoing ominously through the wall. Regina steps carefully over the cables that snake the length of the corridor before following the younger woman into a poky little room where a computer screen is set to standby.

"Oh!"

She cries as she closes the door to reveal a narrow shelving unit piled high with severed heads and limbs.

"Ha, sorry."

The blonde chuckles; not sounding especially sorry, nor looking it when Regina turns around to face her.

"A warning would have been nice."

She snaps, and the younger woman offers her that lazy shrug she hates- the one she's come almost to miss- and points out

"It's a Haunted House. What were you expecting?"

"That the scares might be saved for patrons rather than employees for one!"

Regina replies irritably, waiting for her heart to return to its regular rhythm as she scours the room for any further surprises.

She finds the only real surprise is Emma herself.

The blonde sits perched on one of the three desks that run along the full length of the back wall, clad in a way the darker woman remembers well; rough leather and tight denim. She has forgone dressing up for the evening's events, save for her t-shirt just visible beneath her jacket which features a cackling skull with an improbable snake tongue protruding from its gumless mouth.

Either a nod to the occasion, or a characteristic lack of taste...

Regina muses, although she finds herself oddly excited to be face to face with her long-time rival once again. Her enthusiastic reaction to sharing a room with her foe is what surprises her, as does the younger woman's cheek considering she's of the belief that they're strangers.

Really?! That Miss Swan should be brash and bold in her teasing surprises you?!

In a way, yes. She has always considered the blonde crude and hopelessly childish in her taste for glib sarcasm and lack of respect, but their earliest interactions had seemed to sour Emma's full repertoire of being a pain in the ass as there has always been a dangerous side to their relationship and a need for each woman to watch her step. As such, Regina has grown accustomed to the younger woman's attempts to get under her skin being oddly wooden and stale; Emma succeeding magnificently in her goal, but not with the cool ease she displays when messing around with the others.

Not with the casual wickedness she manages without even seeming to try with Hook.

And suddenly it dawns on the brunette why she finds the pirate's infatuation with the blonde so unbelievably irritating.

Beyond the obvious, that is...

Emma has nothing to lose when it comes to Killian. He poses her no threat; magical or custodial, and so she can be as glib and inappropriate in her comments to him as she likes without needing to hold back and refusing him that intriguing, twisted side of herself that she allows the Mayor glimpses of, but never the full taste.

Now, the younger woman is none the wiser and she regards her companion coolly without the wary caution she has favoured ever since the two became acquainted.

Even as allies she looked at me that way; even as... Well... As good as friends...

Regina shudders at the very thought, but she supposes she can see Emma's logic, however much it may irritate her. Truthfully, she imagines she isn't even entirely to blame anymore. The blonde simply isn't one to forgive and forget easily- not one to lower her guard once it's been raised- and the Queen accepts that she isn't in a position where she can judge all too harshly.

Not that that's ever stopped me.

She smirks to herself, eyeing the younger woman curiously as she relishes her momentary gift of anonymity.

"You're not what I was expecting."

Emma interrupts her train of thought, and Regina freezes for a moment, before remembering that she has been invited behind the scenes under pretext.

"Oh?"

She replies simply, opting for what she considers to be the safest response, and the blonde nods as she hops off the desk and gives the computer's mouse a violent shake in an attempt to wake the screen.

"Nope. When the precinct said they'd send over one of their tech guys, I was expecting, well, a guy, or, someone that looked the part. No offence."

"None taken, although I'm not sure what you mean."

"...Don't make me elaborate and play the bad guy here."

Emma grumbles with a glance over her shoulder, but when she gauges that the brunette means what she says, she raises a brow and turns back to face her with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You don't look like the rest of the computer wizzes I've met, and I've met my fair share doing what I do. That's a compliment by the way, although it feels a little bitchy now that you've made me explain it."

"A little."

Regina agrees breezily, and she meets the narrowing of green eyes with a smirk.

Pretty eyes. A pretty glower. The woman has made it her duty to play a thorn in my side, but I can't deny I've missed the sting just a little.

Ordinarily, such thoughts would send her reeling back uneasily, but she suffers no expectation here and plays several giant leaps ahead of the Sheriff, and so she lowers her defences a little and enjoys the curious scene she's entered into. In a way, she supposes she's glad that it's worked out this way around; Henry no doubt the easier sell when it comes to convincing the others to come home, but the boy knows the particulars of his mothers' relationship and would no doubt have demanded of her to tread with caution- with consideration- when approaching the blonde; fiercely protective of Emma in a way that has never failed to irk her, in spite of coming to find that he behaves very much the same towards the Sheriff on her behalf.

This is stressful enough without playing out some warped version of happy families... What a notion!

"You look exactly like I thought you would, given what you do."

She plays Emma's words back to her boldly, finding private amusement in the absolute truth of the first part of her statement.

"Oh yeah?"

The blonde raises a brow, glancing down at her roguish attire before looking back up at her companion and challenging her to elaborate.

"Should I be flattered or offended?"

"That's up to you. From what I know of bail bonds work, which is admittedly very little other than what someone once told me, it seems there are two traits that are extraordinarily beneficial. The first being cunning, which I don't know you well enough to comment on, the second being allure... I'm sure you scrub up well when you need to."

Regina muses calmly, although inwardly she struggles to keep from lashing out to take some of the appreciation out of her remark; caught entirely off-guard by her own admission. Emma seems similarly thrown, although not in the way the Queen has grown used to; the blonde frequently tripping over her words and growling gruffly at her when caught by surprise, and rarely responding with the cool self-assurance she does now.

In Miss Swan's defence, you don't just nip at her heels; you bite down savagely and refuse to let go...

"I haven't had any complaints... Well, not in that department, anyway. Once the game's up, I get called all sorts, but before they realise my interest is just part of the job... I do just fine."

"And that doesn't bother you? The insincerity of their interest in you as a person?"

Regina asks curiously, knowing she's being a little bold, but it's something she has wondered about in the past.

"Why would it? I'm not interested in them; I'm just reeling in fish. The fact that most of my marks are too blind to see beyond their junk is more a reflection on them than on me, I would say. At least, that's how I see it."

Emma finishes off with a bit of an edge as she waits to see if the intriguing woman sent to help her has any further wisdom to impart that may or may not require swift retribution. As it is, the brunette simply nods, as she agrees

"That seems fair... People are pigs, I know that all too well."

"Yeah... I'm sure you do."

The blonde replies after offering her companion a pointed inspection up and down, and Regina finds herself faltering for a moment as the younger woman turns back to the computer and smacks the mouse against the table in the futile hope that this might somehow help solve whatever problem she seems to be having.

That was definitely suggestive...

She muses, but she tells herself not to look too deeply into the fact that Emma should opt for lechery in place of what was presumably a back-handed compliment, and she sighs as she takes a couple of steps further into the room, coming to stand beside the younger woman and joining her in her examination of the pictureless monitor.

"What's the problem? What do you need it for?"

"Security..."

Emma replies, offering the brunette a small frown as this last question strikes her as a little odd.

Surely she would know what the hell she's here for!

But, history has taught her that she should spare such positive presumptions when it comes to others offering aid, and by the looks of the darker woman clad in her nice coat and expensive shoes, she's either new to her job or doesn't view it as her full-time gig. Either way, Emma doubts she'll last long sitting behind a desk with bored office workers fawning over her.

That's maybe a little unkind...

Maybe, but she can see it happening. The brunette is unusually attractive, and there's just something about her that the younger woman imagines could draw people in.

Myself included, it seems.

Clearing her throat, she turns back to the useless monitor and elaborates

"We've set up cameras in the main rooms as a safety precaution after what happened three years ago."

"What happened?"

Regina asks curiously, fully aware that the blonde's memories up until recently are entirely false and of her own fabrication, but it seems Emma refers to something she's been told about rather than something she believes she's witnessed.

"The guys organising the event back when they used to do this on the other side of town had a nightmare of bad press after an actor collapsed and it took over ten minutes for someone to realise it wasn't just part of the show. She was alright in the end, turns out it was something genetic, I'm not sure what, but people got talking and it didn't look good... I don't think we'd be unlucky enough for something like that to happen again, but we do get groups of teenagers barging through the place later on in the evening, and it was part of our gentleman's agreement with Mr Roydd whose name is on the deeds for this old building that we would keep an eye on things before some horror story about 'the old, abandoned factory in the park' messes with his plans of selling the place next year. I suppose if he played it right he could always lean into the freak factor and find some creepy eccentric to take the place on- I'm sure I don't need to tell you that the city's full of them- but a promise is a promise, even if just a verbal one, and I don't want to have to raise my hand and accept any blame there might be just because I can't figure out how to work a fucking computer."

Emma grumbles, and the brunette nods with a tight smile to suggest she absolutely knows the sorts of people that roam this city she's never set foot in, in a world she knows very little about.

"Don't worry. Your inadequacy is safe with me, dear."

She replies, telling herself she's playing a risky game as such a rude statement might be considered far too familiar, but, to her surprise, her impolite teasing is met with a low chuckle as Emma glances back over her shoulder at her appreciatively.

"Just like that? You're not going to ask anything in return?"

"I-"

But the Mayor's uncertain response is cut short by a harrowing shriek and ominous crash from one of the rooms closest to them, and Emma frowns and holds up a finger in a request that her companion wait a moment as she stalks off to go and investigate.

Letting out a low breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding in, Regina frowns at her poky surroundings uneasily; dark eyes drinking in the blank screen of the monitor before flickering over to the empty sandwich carton and beer can stacked on the side of the desk. The blonde's phone and car keys have been left out in an uncharacteristically trusting manner; the latter old, the former new and pertaining only to this version of her life.

Bzzt.

She watches as the screen illuminates and a message from a contact named Ryan pops up.

Bullshit! Sure you don't want to switch? I can talk to the IT nerd and you can get bloody and deal with these kids? You know-

But the rest is cut off as only the first few lines show up without unlocking the phone to read further.

Which I could do...

Regina muses, but she doesn't feel snooping on Emma is the best use of her time, and so instead she focuses her magic elsewhere.

Closing her eyes, she concentrates as she tries to block out the muffled screaming echoing through the walls, and when she opens them again, the monitor that has been causing Emma so much grief has come to life. The screen has been split into four, and for a moment, she frowns as she has no clue how to fix this perceived problem, but then she realises that the divided display is by design. The bottom right-hand square is black, but the rest show live video footage of some of the rooms in the house. The quality is poor, and the rooms are dark with flickering lights which make the live feed hard to watch, but she supposes she can see enough to make out that all seems well- as well as shrieking, flailing children can ever be considered- and she breathes a sigh of relief that she's been able to get the machine to bend to her will and thus save any questions about her reason for being here.

Spying the blonde on one of the cameras, the Mayor fingers her bottom lip pensively as she watches Emma sidestep a ghoul in a straightjacket that springs out at her as she walks with purpose past two cowering young girls. The Sheriff barely flinches and simply offers the ghoul a flash of her middle finger before moving out of the view of the lens, and Regina hastily gathers her wits as she presumes the blonde is making her way back to the control room.

Weighing up her options, she returns the pc monitor to its black, useless screen with a flick of her wrist mere seconds before the door handle turns and Emma slips back into the room.

"What happened?"

"Oh, one of the werewolves tripped over a wheelbarrow of severed limbs while lunging at some kids."

The blonde replies, closing the door behind her to find Regina offering her a pointedly bemused stare.

"Bet that's the first time you've heard that sentence."

Emma teases, and the brunette shrugs as she primps at her hair and replies silkily

"You don't know me."

"... I guess not."

The younger woman grins, privately concluding that she would quite like to get to know the mysterious brunette a little better- a whole lot better!- and nodding towards the computer.

"I suppose what I want to know is whether you can fix that thing?"

Although that's not all I want to know, not by a long shot. Just who are you, lady?

And it's on the tip of her tongue to mention that they haven't even exchanged names before she's interrupted as the brunette helps herself to a seat behind the screen.

"I'm sure I can."

Regina affirms, and she could have just let Emma walk in on her with the screen up and running, but she had feared this might have led to an early dismissal.

Perhaps not, though. The way Miss Swan has been looking at you almost makes it seem as though she'd like to keep you around for a little while.

A flattering thought that plays entirely to her ego- even if it is just Emma- and she makes a show of pressing a couple of keys with an attitude that suggests she knows what she's doing before getting down to the real task at hand.

"Oh, here."

She smiles as she pulls the packet of candy corn out of her coat pocket, and she almost feels a little reluctant as she makes a move to get the ball rolling; enjoying Emma's company without the usual bitterness of their past misunderstandings.

Not sure that's quite what she'd call it...

Perhaps not, but the sentiment remains apt all the same. She had spurned Emma's suggestions of friendship back in Storybrooke as her dignity is really all that she has left, and the thought of permitting any one of the Charmings to assume such a title had been just too horrific to take. Still, she supposes she does enjoy her time spent with the blonde; whether bullying her, bickering with her, or baiting her, she'd started to seek her out rather than do anything in her power to avoid the woman by the time Emma and Henry left for New York. As such, she'd been true to the promise she had made on their departure; she'd made sure to keep her usual hint of dark spite out of her careful meddling with the younger woman's memories.

"Here?"

Emma raises a brow as she accepts the bag held out to her.

"I was given them, and you seem more likely to appreciate them than I am."

"...How'd you figure that?"

The blonde asks as she studies the candy suspiciously, but she catches a definite teasing lilt to the darker woman's tone and when she places her hands on her hips- the packet clutched against her side- she shows off her horror-themed t-shirt purposefully and offers her companion a smirk.

"Well, you're clearly a woman of poor taste."

Regina shrugs, and she watches as the blonde narrows her eyes; wondering for a moment if she's been a little too forward, before Emma pulls over a chair to sit beside her- quite close beside her- and props her boots up on the desk.

"Now that is a sentence I've heard before."

The blonde grins, and she fiddles the ribbon around the packet of candy absentmindedly, before tossing it to the side and sitting forward in her chair.

"Wait, did you see that flicker? Did you get it to do something?"