A/N: I forgot to mention this at the start of the story because I'm so used to using AO3 now and that's where all my author notes are - this fic is five chapters only and will be updated every Sunday. Also, the comments system on this website is so shitty that I can't reply to anything unless I send it via private message, so if you want a reply then I really recommend reading this on AO3 instead!

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Chapter three

Over the next few weeks, Emma's desk at work only became more precarious. The three projects she'd taken the lead on had turned into five, and with the majority of them going to print in the following month, she'd taken to piling everything up into her very own office-based Bryce Canyon. People knew not to come too close to her, because her new paper trays hadn't arrived yet and they didn't want to become the latest person to get yelled at for accidentally knocking an entire pile of proofs onto the floor.

No one, except for Elsa. She hadn't received the memo that Emma's desk was a danger zone.

"Careful," Emma snapped as she came ricocheting towards her in her wheelie chair. It was Monday morning and Emma had been to a grossly unsuccessful event the previous afternoon – no Ashley in sight, but Neal had sniffed her out within minutes of her walking through the door. In the end she'd left after a half hour. It had taken Regina twice as long to notice she was gone.

"Sorry," Elsa said, her voice even giddier than usual. "Good weekend?"

"Not especially. Yours?"

"Pretty good. I mean, yeah – great, actually."

Emma glanced up to find her grinning. She frowned. "That's… nice. Did you do a lot of drugs, by any chance?"

"No! I mean, yeah, obviously," Elsa corrected herself, perching her elbow on the edge of Emma's overflowing desk and leaned her chin on her hand. "But that's not why it was good."

For a second, Emma waited for an explanation. Then she realised which hand Elsa was leaning on.

Her mouth dried out. "Wait. What is that?"

Elsa shoved her fist directly under Emma's nose. "August proposed, Emma! It was such a surprise and I'm so happy."

"Holy shit," Emma spluttered, grabbing Elsa's hand and examining the diamond that was sparkling from her ring finger. "That's amazing. God, congratulations."

Elsa squealed and dove forward for a hug. Emma clung onto her, squeezing back the tears in her eyes so they wouldn't be visible when they pulled apart.

"Tell me everything," she said, continuing to hold onto Elsa's hand as she started explaining exactly how August had asked her to marry her.

And, oh, Emma was the worst friend in the world. She was smiling and she was happy – she was – but the tiny part of her that couldn't be truly pleased for another person when they were doing better than she was had reared its ugly head, and all she could think of was how Elsa and August had been together for less time than her and Regina and yet they were already flying ahead of them.

Stop it, she snapped at herself, nodding along to Elsa's story. She's your best friend. Stop being so ugly.

Because she was being ugly. She could feel the jealousy dripping from her.

"Elsa, that's amazing," she said eventually. "I'm so pleased for you. And you're going to have the most gorgeous wedding ever, I can already tell. When do you think it'll be?"

Elsa delivered the final blow. "Probably early next year, actually."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah – maybe in January or February. I know it's soon but we're just so excited and it's not like we have any reason to wait, right? What's the point in putting it off?"

What's the point, indeed.

"And obviously nothing's planned yet," Elsa continued, squeezing Emma's hand as hard as possible, "but I know some of the stuff I want already, and I was really hoping you'd be one of my bridesmaids."

Finally, part of Emma's salt-crusted jealousy vanished. "Really? Me?"

"Of course, you! You're my best friend and you can finally walk in heels. I'd ask you to be my maid of honour, to be honest, but we both know what will happen if I don't ask my sister. Anna can be so—"

"I know, I get it," Emma said. "Of course I'd love to. And I'll help with absolutely anything I can – you name it."

Elsa squealed again and reached out for another hug. She nearly knocked over a pile of pages in the process, but Emma let her have that one. Her happiness was infectious and even though Emma's stupid, selfish little heart was aching, she couldn't bring herself to let it ruin the moment.

"The biker?" Regina asked on the phone later that evening. "Seriously?"

"Seriously what?"

"I don't know. I just didn't think he was the marriage type. Is Elsa happy?"

"She's ecstatic. It's nice," Emma said. The office had emptied out and she was applying her make-up at her desk ready for another gallery opening that night. After a pause, she added, "They're thinking of getting married in January. Because they don't want to wait any longer."

She waited for Regina to realise how romantic that was and maybe suggest something similar, but instead all she said was, "That's sweet, although a bit inconsiderate."

"Inconsiderate?"

"Well, it gives people hardly any time to prepare."

"I guess," Emma sighed. After a beat, she added, "I'm going to be a bridesmaid."

"Are you?" Regina asked, perking up a bit. "That'll be nice. I can't wait to see your dress."

"You mean, you want to come?"

"Of course I want to come, darling. I love weddings. And I assume I'm invited since Elsa knows I'll buy an excellent present."

Emma laughed. "She didn't mention it, but you're probably right. She'll put a bookmarked copy of the Tiffany catalogue on my desk at some point."

"I'd better start budgeting for it then. Emma, I've got to go," Regina suddenly said. "A meeting's just come up. Am I still okay to pick you up at 7:30?"

Emma glanced at the clock: it was already 6:40. "Yeah, of course. I'll see you then."

She wasn't surprised in the slightest when she received a text at 7:20.

Still in meeting. I'll be very late to the gallery so if you want to go home instead, I won't mind.

Emma sighed. She was in the office bathroom adding the finishing touches to her outfit, which she happened to be delighted with that evening. Originally, she'd planned to wear her favourite black suit with a glossy shirt underneath, but perhaps because she was feeling slightly tense and uncertain after her conversation with Elsa, she'd decided to forgo the shirt at the last moment. The tux jacket was tightly fitted enough to hold her naked breasts in place when she buttoned it shut, and her long gold necklace accented the whole thing perfectly. There was no fucking way she was getting undressed again now.

So she texted Regina back saying she'd meet her there and finished things off by tying her hair into a slick bun at the base of her neck. With her smoky eyeshadow and towering heels, she looked like the English teacher at school who everyone had a crush on but was far too terrified of to actually approach.

She straightened her spine and nodded. So what if her best friend was getting married to a guy she'd only been dating for a year while Emma's girlfriend kept running for the hills whenever she tried to mention the future? She was young and hot and had had her eyebrows threaded three days earlier, which meant she was ready to go out and mingle and show everyone just how capable she was.

The second she walked into the gallery, half the room turned to stare. Emma wasn't sure she'd ever shown up to one of these events alone before, and for a moment she thought maybe they were about to ask her to leave again. But then she realised they were admiring her outfit – admiring her – and she lifted her chin. She nodded to a few people she knew and grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby tray, and then she started walking. The gallery that night was small and not particularly full, which made it easy to see the artwork and who else was wandering around. She hoped she'd see Ashley, but before she could start searching, a voice wafted over her shoulder.

"Wow. Is this all for me?"

Emma groaned and turned around. "You need to learn when to quit."

"Why would I want to do that?" Neal asked, grinning. He stepped forward and kissed Emma's cheek before she could back away. "You look amazing, Swan Song. Where's the old ball and chain?"

"Don't call her that."

"Fine. Where's your scary bodyguard?"

"Neal," Emma snapped. "What do you want?"

"I just want to chat. I feel like you're avoiding me."

"Avoiding you?" Emma spluttered. "Of course I am. We're not friends. I don't want to talk to you."

"That's a bit harsh," he replied, folding his arms. "Let's go somewhere quieter and catch up. I won't try and kiss you again, I promise."

Emma felt like her head was about to explode, but thankfully before she could reach out and choke him, she spotted a blonde head over his shoulder. Ashley was standing in the corner by herself, quietly observing the nearest painting, and without a single word to Neal, Emma walked off. She felt him falter like he was going to follow her, but thankfully he saw the purpose in her stride and had just enough common sense left to let her go.

By the time Emma reached Ashley, she wasn't alone anymore. A tall, hammy man was towering over her, speaking too loudly into her ear and sticking his belly right into her personal space. Emma recognised him from the back and rolled her eyes.

"Moe," she said loudly, making him turn around. He glared as soon as he saw her. "I need to borrow your latest sounding board."

Ashley beamed from behind him, but Moe's scowl deepened. "We're talking."

"No, you're talking. Ashley, I need to show you something."

Ashley looked nervously up at him like she was expecting him to hold out an arm and stop her from leaving. After an awkward pause, she stepped around his vast frame and hurried toward Emma, who led her over to the opposite side of the gallery and grabbed another glass of champagne on the way.

"Thanks," Ashley said, taking it with a shaky hand. She pushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. "I wasn't sure whether we could just take these or not."

She was wearing another ill-fitting dress and pantyhose that were slightly bobbly. Emma smiled. "Rule number one of these things: never get cornered by Moe French."

"Is that his name?"

"Yeah. He's the worst of a very bad bunch."

"He… seemed to not like you very much."

Emma smirked. "He once tried to threaten Regina so I confronted him in front of everyone. He didn't enjoy that."

A new wave of adoration swept over Ashley's face. "Wow. I guess I shouldn't mess with you, huh?"

"I'm only scary to assholes."

"Like Neal, you mean?"

Emma automatically grimaced. "You know his name?"

"Yeah. After you left last time, Mr Gold introduced us. He wants us to do the circuit together and become 'allies'."

It was such a typical bullshit word for Gold to use that Emma couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Well, he seems to have it all planned out for you, doesn't he?" She paused, remembering what Regina had asked her to do. The words tasted bad in her mouth as she asked, "Do you think that's how it'll be for your entire contract?"

Ashley sipped her champagne and shrugged. "Probably. I mean, he's made it pretty clear that while he's representing me, he wants me to act in a certain way."

That reminded Emma all too clearly of another arrangement that she'd once had.

"Right," she said slowly. She knew what she had to do next – Regina had asked for her help, and it didn't seem like it would be too hard to get some more information out of this girl, but Ashley was looking at her with so much adulation that it was hard to get the questions out. That slick, dirty feeling was creeping over her again and she didn't like it at all.

But then, before she could even try, Ashley spoke up of her own accord. "My first exhibition is in a month."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. He said he's going to show 15 of my works over six weeks."

"Wow," Emma said, for once actually understanding what a big deal that was. "That'll be huge for you. We should go shopping once you're raking in all that dollar."

Ashley giggled, taking another sip. "I'm not sure there will be that much dollar. Once Gold's commission is taken off, I won't have that much left."

And just like that, an alarm bell was ringing. Emma smiled tightly and tried to sound casual. "Oh? I don't really know much about commission."

"Doesn't Regina talk about it?"

"Not very often. I find her work kind of boring."

"Well," Ashley said eagerly, happy to be teaching her something, "Gold obviously takes a portion of every sale to account for the gallery space and the marketing and everything. It's quite a lot but I guess it's just like taxes, and you get the benefit of it later."

"How much is a lot?"

"Sixty percent."

Emma nearly choked on her champagne. "Sixty?"

Regina only took a third of that for her contracts, and that was on big deals where the artist was rich enough to barely notice tens of thousands of dollars being handed to someone else. She could get away with more, but she didn't.

Ashley was chattering away, trying to explain the logic, but Emma was barely listening. All of a sudden, she was feeling angry for a very different reason.

"And will that figure change over time?" Emma asked. "Like, say you get really famous and your name recognition is enough that you don't need any marketing – will his commission be less?"

She watched with a sinking heart as Ashley wrinkled her nose. "I don't think so, no."

"So it's 60 percent for the next 10 years?"

"I guess. Is that bad?"

Stop asking that, Emma wanted to snap at her. Do some research before you sign a contract with someone who looks like a goblin.

But instead she shrugged and forced a smile. "I'm really not sure. Maybe you should ask Regina."

"Speaking of whom," Ashley said, perking up slightly, "I think she just arrived."

Emma turned toward the main door to see that she was right: Regina was sweeping into the gallery wearing a dark grey shift dress that she normally only wore to work. She obviously hadn't had time to get changed after her meeting, although she'd managed to reapply her favourite slash of lipstick in the car.

She paused to greet the gallery owner, shaking his hand hard enough to make the muscles in her arms pop, and Emma watched wistfully. For a second, she wondered if Regina would spot her at all.

Then she looked up, met Emma's eye, and froze. Her gaze drifted down from her hair to her suit to her nearly bare chest, and Emma saw the way her expression changed.

For once, Regina didn't pause to network. She brushed past every single person in the room who was vying for her attention and headed straight for the woman who looked like every one of her fantasies rolled up into a neat package.

"Emma," she said, her voice just a shade darker than usual as she swept in for a kiss. "You look… amazing."

Emma smiled, her cheeks going pink. "I'm glad you finally made it. Did the meeting go okay?"

"Oh, it was fine. I'm just annoyed it went on for so long," Regina replied. She sounded distracted, and her eyes kept drifting downward. "How are you?"

"I'm great. Have you met Ashley?"

Regina instantly snapped to attention, turning toward the young woman who'd been at the centre of their conversations for the past few weeks. "No, I don't believe so. It's lovely to meet you. Are you an artist?"

Her charisma was as disarming as ever, and Ashley instantly started talking. Emma could tell that Regina wasn't fully paying attention, though – not only did she already know most of this stuff, but her body kept twitching like it was being lured toward something else. Emma smirked and edged to one side, making it easier for Regina to glance at her without looking like she wasn't paying attention to what Ashley was saying. When she spotted the long necklace that was trailing down into Emma's bare cleavage, she sighed wistfully.

"We were just talking about Ashley's first exhibition," Emma eventually interjected. "Gold's got it all planned out."

Regina couldn't help herself. "I bet he does," she said bitterly, causing Ashley to let out a nervous giggle. "You must be very excited."

"I am, but I'm really nervous too. It would be so awful if nothing sold and Mr Gold regrets ever signing me."

She'd opened the perfect door, and Emma watched as Regina casually stepped through it. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. That's exactly why we put release clauses into our contracts."

Ashley frowned. "Release clauses?"

Emma was suddenly filled with the urge to step forward and shake this idiotic girl. Regina twitched like she was considering it too. "You didn't check for one?"

"I'm… not sure. What do they look like?"

Oh, Jesus fuck.

Regina glanced at Emma before saying, "Well…"

But before she could explain anything, Emma heard a tapping sound that always made her feel violently nauseous.

"Regina," Mr Gold said softly from behind them. "Ah, and Miss Swan. Trying to sabotage my work again, are we?"

Regina snapped her head round with a glare. "When have I ever cared enough to sabotage your work?"

"Sometimes I think it's all you care about," he said smoothly, leaning on his cane. His gaze shifted to Ashley. "Do you remember the conversation we had after your last foray, Miss Boyd?"

Ashley's smile froze. "Of course."

"What did I tell you?"

She glanced at Regina before saying, "That I'm not supposed to spend my entire evening talking to the competition."

Regina opened her mouth to protest, but Gold beat her to it. "Exactly. When you sign with me, you need to talk to the right kind of people. This isn't who I had in mind."

Emma desperately wanted to snatch his cane and beat him over the head with it, but instead she turned to look at Ashley. She'd gone slightly pale, and she was backing away from everybody like she was afraid of getting in even more trouble just from being in the same breathing space as them.

"Sorry, Mr Gold," she muttered, tugging at her ill-fitting dress.

"Good. And Regina – I really thought you'd know better by now. What is it with your sudden obsession with my artists?"

"I'm just checking exactly how many of them are rapists before I file my police report," Regina replied sweetly. Gold's eyes flashed.

"Very amusing. How many times do I need to politely ask you to stop making baseless accusations about people?"

"You could try asking politely just the once, but I'm not sure it'll make any difference."

Ashley backed away once more, and Emma could tell she was about to hurry off into another corner and hope she ran into someone her boss wouldn't be actively furious about. But then Gold leaned closer to Regina and delivered his parting shot.

"Remember, dearie – she belongs to me. If I see you or your little lapdog speaking with Miss Boyd again, I'll make sure you regret it."

Emma was the only one watching Ashley, which meant she was the only person who saw all the colour drain from her face. Without thinking, she stepped forward, pushing past Gold and Regina as they squared up to one another, and grabbed her wrist.

"Emma?"

"Miss Swan."

Emma ignored the voices calling after her as she dragged Ashley toward the exit. Behind her, she felt Regina shift position to block Gold from going after them.

"Get out of my way," he was snarling.

"Oh, and how exactly do you plan to catch up with them? Unless your stick doubles as a skateboard, you'd be better off staying right here."

Ashley didn't say a word as Emma pulled her out into the street. It was a warm evening and Emma was sweating with rage beneath her tight jacket, but she kept marching as fast as possible until they reached the nearest bar.

She finally let go of Ashley's wrist and opened the door. "In."

She had a split second to realise that she sounded exactly like Regina had when they'd first met, but then Ashley was diligently creeping past her and heading for the nearest empty table.

When they each had a drink in hand – Emma was relieved to see that Ashley was a spirit drinker like herself – Emma sat back with a sigh. "I'm really sorry about all that. Things can get… kind of messy in there."

Ashley nodded tightly, sipping at her gin and tonic. "Does everyone hate each other?"

"Not everyone. There's a sweet couple called Marco and Archie who you'd love, and the people I normally hang out with are supermodels who can get you cocaine quicker than most people can get a beer. Sometimes it can actually be fun. Things are just a bit tense right now, and unfortunately you're caught up in the middle of it."

She watched Ashley swallow. Around her neck, there was a silver chain that had stained her skin green.

"Mr Gold said I belong to him," she eventually said. Her voice was flat. "What did he mean?"

Emma was pretty certain Regina wouldn't appreciate her spilling all the current messy details of their lives across the table, but right then, she didn't care.

"Ashley… Look. I'm sure you already have an inkling of this, but Gold isn't a very nice guy. He's good at what he does, but he's also sneaky and he doesn't care about what happens to his artists as long as he makes money off them. I'm worried you jumped into a contract with him without really checking the fine print, which means you're stuck with him because he's never going to just let you walk away of your own free will."

"But I barely got the chance to read it!" Ashley blurted out. "I met him at my grad show and he asked for a meeting the next day. He had the contract ready and wanted me to sign it then and there."

"And did you?"

"No – I said I needed to read it through, and he said fine, but it was a 24-hour offer and if I didn't sign, I'd lose the opportunity forever. Whenever I suggested any changes, he said I was ruining my chances. I got myself so worked up over it and in the end, I thought I was doing the right thing for my career."

Emma sighed, rubbing a hand over her forehead. "So you're locked in for 10 years?"

"Yeah."

"With no release clause?"

"I… I don't think so. I don't remember seeing one. It didn't even occur to me that—"

"Can I be honest with you?" Emma interrupted. She suddenly felt tired and a little bit furious – both at Gold for being such a cold-hearted snake and at Ashley for not being smart enough to notice. "Gold's deliberately trapped you into a contract where you'll be forced to make money for him just so you can live. Most artists only sign for a few months or years – I asked Regina about it. If you wanted to change your style or take a break then that would allow you to do so, but Gold doesn't want that. He wants you to be stuck with him so that all you can do is churn out painting after painting, even if they're not particularly good, just so you'll be able to survive. It will be more about his name than yours, and he's going to make a tasty little profit each time without even having to lift a finger. And he's deliberately trying to warn you off me and Regina because he knows we'll be honest with you, and he wants you to think we're trying to trick you. We're not – you can walk out of here right now if you want. I'm just worried about you, and Regina is too."

Ashley was watching her, shellshocked, with her fingers curled round the edge of her seat. She looked terrified and hurt, and she also looked disappointed. Emma realised right then that she'd suspected the same thing since day one.

Eventually she opened her mouth. Her voice was crackly. "How do I get out of it?"

"I have no idea," Emma replied. "I don't know much about any of this – I just know when someone's a bad person. And Gold is definitely a bad person."

That seemed to jog a memory inside Ashley's head, because she suddenly asked, "Why do you and Regina hate Neal?"

It was something Emma desperately avoided discussing, but she'd run out of chances to keep skirting around the issue.

"Because he attacked me," she said flatly. She wasn't sure she'd actually said it out loud before. "It was a while ago. Regina was trying to get him to sign with her and he kept messing with her, so I went round to talk to him. He tried to…" She swallowed and shook her head. "He's just not a nice guy, and yet Gold signed him anyway. He doesn't care about who he's got as long as he looks like the winner."

Ashley just nodded. Emma decided not to take it personally that she didn't seem particularly shocked.

She took another long drink of gin, practically draining the rest of the glass, before straightening her spine. "I think I need to go home now."

Emma jolted with disappointment, but nodded.

"Okay. Do you want a ride? Regina has a driver."

"No. I… I think I'll walk. I just need some air."

"Right," Emma said, pausing. She reached for her cell phone. "What's your number?"

"Why?"

"Because I want to make sure you're okay later."

Ashley's face fluttered with relief at what was probably the first genuine act of kindness she'd experienced in weeks. She reeled off her number, and once Emma had plugged it into her phone, she walked out. Emma was left sitting with a full glass of whisky and a headache that was threatening to blind her.

Regina was vibrating for the entire ride home. It was obvious that Emma didn't want to talk about what had happened because her forehead was furrowed into deep lines and her fingers were fidgeting in her lap, but as the minutes passed, it was becoming increasingly difficult for Regina to resist asking. She kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, wetting her lips, turning to Emma and opening her mouth before hurriedly looking out the window once more. Eventually, right as they pulled up outside her apartment, she blurted out, "God, will you just tell me?"

Emma sighed. "Tell you what?"

"You know what. What did Ashley say?"

"Can we not do this right now?" Emma asked, unclipping her seatbelt and saying goodnight to Sidney.

Regina hurried after her, sticking close to her shoulder as she demanded, "When, then?"

"I'm just thinking, Regina. Can you chill out for half a second?"

"No," Regina snapped without a trace of irony. She followed Emma into the elevator. "Just tell me."

"You already know most of it anyway. We just talked."

"About what?"

"Regina," Emma bit out, pressing the button for the 19th floor over and over again even though they were already moving. "Look, this girl is getting her life ruined by that little shit of a man and I'm trying to come up with a way to help her. Just let me think."

"But I can help! I want to help."

"No, you don't – you want to get back at Gold."

"Oh, don't give me that," Regina said. "We both want to get back at him. He's a vindictive little slug and this has always been about trying to take him down. That doesn't mean I don't want to help that poor girl now she's been dragged into it."

The elevator doors pinged and Emma stepped out. "Fine. I guess we both want to choke him a little bit."

"I've known him longer, which means I get first dibs," Regina replied. Emma turned to throw her half a smile before they reached her front door. As soon as Regina had unlocked it, Emma kicked off her heels and headed for the kitchen. "Where are you going?"

"I need a drink."

"Emma…"

"I'm not going to throw back a whole bottle of WhistlePig and then throw up in your shower – I just need something to take the edge off."

Regina watched as she poured a glass of red wine and took three long sips. When it was clear that she wasn't about the drain the whole thing in one go, she relaxed slightly and approached the centre island.

"Please tell me."

Her voice had gotten softer, which meant Emma felt less uncomfortable about saying, "Gold's contract sounds bogus."

"I gathered that much," Regina replied. "What did she tell you?"

Emma sighed. She could remember Gold's words too clearly. Trying to sabotage my work again, are we?

She was just as bad as the rest of them. Ashley had confided in her, and here she was, about to spill everything she'd told her just so someone could use it to manipulate her.

She turned away and headed toward the sink. "She's scared. I tried to comfort her."

"And how did you do that?"

"By making it clear that we'll help however we can. I just want her to know she can trust us even if Gold says she can't."

She looked down into the sink as she spoke so she wouldn't have to meet Regina's eye, but from the silence that followed, it was clear her answer was less than impressive. She heard movement behind her.

"I see," Regina said, slowly approaching her. As soon as she was directly behind her, she reached out for Emma's glass of wine and took a sip. "Do you think she does?"

"What?"

"Trust us."

"I don't know. She barely knows us. I think she's confused by it all."

"Right. And do you?"

"Do I what?"

A sudden breath of air against Emma's ear made her shiver. "Do you trust me?"

"You know I do."

"Then why don't you want to tell me what happened?"

Emma turned around abruptly, snatching the glass back. "Because I don't want to be just another person who pushes her around for my own gain. If she told me stuff in confidence then I shouldn't be blabbing about it to my girlfriend."

The way Regina raised her eyebrows let Emma know that she'd made a good point, but she also knew it wasn't going to be enough. Regina was looking at her steadily, her eyes assessing every inch of her face before they slowly dropped to her neck and then further down to her chest. Emma was backed into the corner, and all she could do was cling onto her wine glass and hope it wasn't about to get spilled on her half-naked body.

But then Regina took it from her once more and placed it far away from them on the opposite counter. When she reached out again, Emma's breath caught.

"I don't need to know the things she confided in you about, Emma," she said quietly, trailing her finger from Emma's throat down to her sternum. "I don't want to know. If she trusts you then I won't try and ruin that. But I would still like to know the important details."

Emma swallowed. "Like what?"

"Like what made you say that Gold's contract is bogus."

The finger that was lightly tracing over her skin was making it hard to concentrate, and eventually Emma stammered, "Other than the fact that it's a decade long?"

"Well, yes. That's a red flag alright." Regina's hand slipped lower, meeting the button that was holding Emma's jacket together, and paused there. "I have a proposition for you."

Her other hand grabbed the counter behind Emma, and suddenly Emma was pinned there with Regina's body pressed hard against her own. She had a determined look in her eye that Emma was never quite sure whether she should be afraid of or turned on by, and her lips were deliciously pursed as she waited for a response.

Emma stammered, "What are you doing?"

"Ask me what my proposition is."

"Okay," Emma said. "What's your proposition?"

Regina leaned in and kissed Emma beneath her ear, making her moan immediately. Her toes curled against the cold kitchen floor as Regina's lips moved slightly lower.

The moment Emma felt herself starting to tremble, Regina smirked. She edged back up again until her mouth was pressed directly against the shell of her ear.

"For every thing you tell me," she murmured, her right hand toying with the jacket button again, "I'll make you come."

Emma shivered. "But I'm—"

"Nothing personal," Regina clarified. "Nothing you think she wouldn't want you to tell me. But anything that might help me."

Barely able to breathe, Emma choked out, "You're a manipulative little shit."

"I know."

"I'm not going to do it."

"Aren't you?" Regina asked coolly, popping the button open. Her hand slid inside, skating over Emma's stomach and finding it taut and conflicted. "I don't think I'm asking for a lot. And I'm willing to give you so much in return."

Her heeled foot suddenly slipped between Emma's legs and kicked them apart, and then her hand was sinking lower. When it began pulling on the zipper on her pants, Emma could only groan.

"Em," Regina said softly, her fingertips skating over the band of Emma's panties. Emma wished she could squeeze her thighs together to relieve some of the pressure, but her legs were forced apart and Regina's knee was pressed between them. It wasn't close enough to grind down on, and that only made it worse. "Please."

Emma wriggled automatically, her chest heaving against Regina's. Her jacket slipped further open and she shivered when her nipples grazed against the rough fabric of her dress. "I don't know that much."

"That's okay. Tell me what you can."

"But it's not even new."

"I'll be the judge of that," Regina hummed, kissing her neck again.

"I…" Emma started, then groaned. "She said that Gold picked her out at her grad show, and asked for a meeting the next day. When she got there, the contract was already written."

It wasn't much at all, but Regina sighed like Emma had just discovered the Third Testament for her. As soon as her sentence was over, Regina's hand slid down into her panties.

"That's very good," she murmured, circling her finger over her clit. Emma could already feel how soaked she was and she had to force herself not to buck her hips. "I think you earned an orgasm with that."

She suddenly removed her hand and reached for Emma's pants, tugging them down and pulling them over her feet. Her panties followed immediately after. They ended up on the other side of the kitchen somewhere, and when Regina stood back up again, Emma was left wearing nothing but a gold necklace and a jacket that was hanging open.

"God," Regina said softly, stepping toward her again. Her palm settled between Emma's legs and cupped her gently. "You're more beautiful than ever."

Emma tried to respond, but the sensation of her cunt being squeezed and then released made her brain feel like it was on fire. She just gasped, clinging onto the counter for dear life as Regina caressed her with the full palm of her hand.

"And you're soaked," she commented, pulling away so she could hold her glimmering hand in front of Emma's face. Emma caught the scent of herself and, without thinking, leaned forward and dragged her tongue over Regina's palm. Regina smirked and shoved her back. "That's mine, thank you. Not yours."

But instead of licking it clean herself, she replaced it between Emma's thighs and slipped a finger inside her. Emma's pussy felt so wet and swollen that she barely registered it entering her, and she groaned and rocked up onto the balls of her feet from the dissatisfaction. Her whimper was cut off when Regina leaned forward and kissed her.

"Whiny," Regina muttered as she pulled away. Before Emma could reply, she thrust a second finger inside her and raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Better?"

"Yes," Emma gasped, nodding. "Thank you."

"Are you close already?"

"I don't… Maybe."

"Honestly, Emma," Regina tsked, wasting no time in setting up a steady rhythm between her thighs. Her thumb was planted against Emma's clit and every time she drove in deeper, Emma groaned. She let go of the counter and clung onto Regina's shoulders instead, hoping her legs wouldn't give way entirely as her girlfriend fucked her senselessly into the edge of it. She could feel a bruise forming on her lower back, but she paid no mind to it as Regina finally caved and added another finger to her pussy.

"Regina," she whined, rising up onto her tiptoes again. Heat was coursing through her and for some reason it felt like it had been years since she'd last felt it that intensely. Regina's hair was in her face and the smell of it was killing her, and when she felt those three fingers inside her curl and rub against just the right spot, she cried out loudly enough to wake everyone on their floor.

"God, are you gushing on me?" Regina asked, pretending and failing to sound displeased. She was still fucking Emma until every last tremor had left her, and the comforting arm around her waist was making her feel safe and deliciously trapped all at once.

When Emma finally sank back against the counter, she didn't trust herself to remove her face from Regina's shoulder. She was trembling and sweaty and her legs were weak.

"That's one," Regina said cheerfully, stroking her back. "What else have you got for me?"

"Fuck you," Emma muttered into her dress.

"No, not yet. How are you feeling?"

"Shaky."

"I can remedy that."

Regina suddenly grabbed her thighs and hitched her up, forcing her to sit back on the counter. Emma looked down at her with wide eyes that were half annoyed and half excited.

"It's cold," she snapped.

"You're such an ungrateful brat," Regina replied coolly, shoving two fingers back inside Emma and laughing when she gasped. "Now. Would you like to tell me anything else?"

Her fingers went still and her face was expectant. Emma only lasted 10 seconds before she groaned and clamped her thighs together.

"She… Ashley didn't get time to properly review the contract or hire a lawyer," she said. "Gold wanted her to sign it right away."

"And did she?"

"No. She took it home but he told he she only had 24 hours. If she didn't get back in time, he'd find someone else." Emma paused, considering this. "He sounds like someone else I know."

Regina rolled her eyes and pulled her fingers out. "I wasn't trying to scam you, thank you very much. I was just impatient to get you into bed."

Before Emma could protest, Regina dropped to her knees and tugged Emma closer to the edge of the counter.

"But I think that still counts as another one," she said, giving Emma a second to adjust her weight before she leaned in and licked her clit. It was still tender and Emma gasped, bucking her hips up. When Regina did it again, it was softer and felt like magic. "Thank you for telling me."

Emma couldn't reply – she was leaning back on one hand while the other gripped Regina's hair. It was always so soft and seductive beneath her fingers, and she took great pleasure in grabbing it just a little bit too hard.

Regina didn't seem to mind. On the contrary: she moaned and pressed herself in deeper, swirling her tongue around Emma's soaked pussy until she was shaking and struggling to breathe. When Regina thrust her fingers back inside, Emma lifted her legs and hooked them over Regina's shoulders, using her heels to pin her against her cunt until the spasms shooting through it had finally subsided. When Regina clambered back to her feet, the lower half of her face was shimmering and she was looking so pleased with herself that Emma couldn't help but moan.

Regina leaned close, not kissing her but hovering just an inch away, and softly asked, "Anything else?"

Emma laughed. "No."

"I don't believe you."

"Regina, will you give a girl a break?"

"Absolutely not," Regina replied, grabbing Emma's hand and yanking her off the counter. When she pulled her in for a kiss that was wet and tasted of sex, she didn't complain – she just moaned and wound her arms around her neck and didn't question why she was suddenly being walked away from the sink and toward the centre of the room.

Then she felt herself being spun round and forced up against something cold. The island was made of granite and felt sharp against her breasts and stomach as she was bent over it.

"Shit!" she yelped, earning her a quick slap to the ass. "Regina, please – I don't have anything else for you."

"I'm sure that's not true," Regina replied, gathering Emma's wrists at the small of her back and pinning them there. Her fingers dipped down between Emma's legs and slowly stroked her from her clit up to her entrance. "Give me something. Anything."

"Regina—"

"Just a little taster."

Emma groaned and pressed her hot forehead against the counter. Her entire body felt like it was on fire and she wracked her brains for something else that might be useful.

She landed on something just as Regina was pulling her fingers away. "Wait! The commission. I found out how much he takes."

Regina paused. "How much?"

"Sixty. Sixty percent."

"Sixty?"

"Yeah."

Another pause. "Are you absolutely certain?"

"She didn't know it was a lot. And she doesn't have a release clause. If she'd tried to add one, Gold would have dropped her."

There was another long, agonising pause. Emma could hear Regina thinking. "So she's locked in for 10 years, giving the majority of the money she earns to him, with no choice but to keep going?"

Nodding furiously, Emma said, "Yeah. But that's all she said, Regina, I swear. We didn't talk for long."

She felt a thumb brush thoughtfully over her trapped wrists. She worried she was about to be released.

But then three fingers were back inside her, fucking her furiously and with no preamble. Emma gasped as her hips banged against the edge of the counter, bruises blossoming there to match the one on her back.

"You did so well," Regina said from behind her, causing yet another wave of heat to sink over her. "Thank you for trusting me."

"I—" Emma gasped, then let out a loud moan that seemed to roll across the countertop. "You're not going to get her in trouble, are you?"

Regina surprised her by pulling her fingers free and slapping her sharply across the ass once more. "Don't ask such ridiculous questions. I won't do a thing to hurt her."

Then her fingers were back inside – possibly four of them, judging by how stretched and greedy Emma's swollen pussy felt – and Emma couldn't think of Ashley for another second. When she came that time, Regina was gently encouraging her, whispering proud words in her ear even as she fucked her hard enough to make her legs shake.

As she recovered, Regina turned her and leaned her back against the counter that was now warm and slightly sweaty. She stroked her back over and over as Emma buried her face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the smell of her and waiting for her pulse to slow.

She felt such a surge of love for her then that she thought maybe all the other stuff they were dealing with didn't matter after all. As long as they were side by side, their fingers woven together and their mind on the same thing, they'd be alright.

She sighed into the dip of Regina's throat. "What are you planning to do?"

For a moment, Regina didn't respond. She thought maybe she wasn't going to answer.

But then she pulled back, lifted Emma's chin, and kissed her gently on her lips.

"I'm not sure," she said thoughtfully. Then she smiled. "But I'm going to make sure it's final."