Disclaimer: I do not own the show or these characters.
If It Gets Me In Her Pants…
"Emma, dear! Why don't you let me help you with that?"
Emma grit her teeth. "That's not necessary."
"Don't strain yourself."
"I won't."
"You should really pull your hair back. All it takes is one strand of that beautiful hair to get caught and – Oh! I can't even think about it! Emma just save your mother a heart attack and tie it up?"
"Mom!"
The pixie head whipped around. Her eyeballs grew out of their sockets as she stared open mouthed at her daughter's smart mouth.
"Just… enough," Emma said gently. Her focus drew back to the spool-shaped capstan and its dislodged chain. She casually waved her dirty rag in the air saying, "I'm a big girl. If I need help I'll ask for it."
"No, I know. You are a big girl. You're my big girl. And I fully understand how you would want space. I remember when I was seventeen and there was this ball at the castle…"
While Mary Margaret prattled on Emma went back to her work. Sweat dripping from her brow and grunting with the chain she became distracted by the sound of a laugh. A most extraordinary laugh.
Through oil streaked hair she spied the brunette and pirate bumping shoulders and yucking it up. Emma's jaw grew tight and she pulled harder on the chain despite the strain in her back.
Ever since the crew began their duties and Regina started navigating, the two had been extra buddy-buddy. It was like watching two old friends reunite. Besides staring at maps it was all they did together, reminiscing about grand old adventures, laughing it up over some poor unsuspecting fool they tricked in some scam way back. It was disgusting and it made Emma grow green as a jelly bean with envy.
Since the moment she saw Killian Jones his face never looked so… punchable. Not only was he arrogant and stuck up, but he was probably the most untrustworthy person Emma's come across (and she has come across some rather dishonest fellows in her previous line of work). Emma couldn't figure out why Regina would ever enjoy this man's company, now or in the past. It struck Emma then, how much she didn't know about Regina's past. The thought was shook off. Emma knew Regina now. Whatever happened before didn't matter. Hook, though, that was the one with an ulterior motive. There just had to be.
The pirate smiled at something Regina said. Emma couldn't make out his reply but it had Regina in a fit of laughter. Now more than ever she wanted to test how fast Hook's head would spin to the force of her knuckles this time.
Mary Margaret had started fussing with her hair, separating knots, and pulling back the grease stained strands. "Let me just… this one right here… honey, really? Hold still… this is a stubborn one…"
Emma gave one last swat and straightened up. Regina walked past giving her a puzzled look. In one smooth transition Emma leaned back on the capstan and raised her chin, flashing a Joey Tribbiani 'how you doin'?" smile. Classic.
"What are you doing?"
"Huh?" Emma stood up and turned to her mother. Mary Margaret had a brow raised in suspicion. "Nothin'," she sputtered, looking at her like she had just been accused of manslaughter. Or making eyes at her step grandmother, or whatever they're calling it now.
"Anyway, where was I?" Mary Margaret stared off until her eyes lit up seconds later. "YES! That's right! Prince Studebaker had met me on the balcony. He solicited me and I just said I wasn't that kind of girl…"
Emma wiped the sweat from her brow, watching the scene before her. Hook's arm was draped around the brunette's shoulder. The woman's lips twitched as they usually did in advance to the curving of their corners. White teeth sparkled and a breathy chuckle escaped. Her lovely, long neck bobbed to the joyous response. Emma licked her lips and sucked in a deep breath. She watched the tips of Regina's fingers run absently along her clavicle.
Emma's gaze returned to the arm and the thumb that had started rubbing against a shoulder. She blew out her long held in breath and glared daggers at the draping arm. She thought her father's sword was around there somewhere; it would be put to good use on that arm that was for sure.
"… and then I shoved him off the balcony like Humpty Dumpty…"
"Wait. What?" Emma sputtered, turning to her mother. "You what?"
"I was just seeing if you were listening. If I'm not talking about sword fighting, dragons, or what leather jacket would go well in what season you seem to lose interest in the conversation."
"I think you're leaving out a few topics."
"Oh?" Mary Margaret drawled. Her arms crossed over her chest. "Which ones?"
Emma did a double take. Her mouth was moving but nothing came out.
"Is this some girl talk I hear?" chimed Hook. Regina followed from behind. "Oh goodie let me in on the fun."
"None of your goddamned business."
His head practically whiplashed back from the poisonous bite to Emma's claim. "A bit defensive are we? Sounds like I interrupted some juicy stuff." He witnessed the working jaw and tightening fists. Throwing up his hands in surrender he said, "Just a word of advice. When you don't want other people in your beeswax, don't tempt them with honey. In short, don't look so obvious." He gave a sidelong glance to the woman next to him. Regina eyed him suspiciously.
Mary Margaret's forehead wrinkled to excess. "Anywaaaay."
Awkward silence followed. Emma bent down to pull on the chain caught up in its track, while her mother went back to freshening the nip on the line. Regina commenced with the folding and refolding of a map.
"I have to admit," the captain declared, "you ladies sure know how to work a vessel." Catching Regina's raised brow he stood up from his spot of observation. "No, really. I can appreciate the many endowments the female sex has to offer, but your work ethic is second to none. As the French say, 'Superbe!'"
"You ever think about laying off the rum?" came muffled from the blonde who was straining with the chain. It finally came loose and fell into place with a dull clank.
"Now, now this is not an intervention. I really do believe that if a woman wants to take on the responsibility as breadwinner… more power to her. It's time to," he punched his fist in the air for emphasis, "break that shiny glass ceiling."
"Hook," Mary Margaret began, "are you saying what I think you're saying? Are you a feminist?"
"Why not?" He grinned slyly and sidled up next to her. "If it gets me in her pants…"
"Nope," Regina pipes up, "Not a feminist."
Mary Margaret agreed, "Definitely not."
"Spoke too soon." Emma shook her head.
"Come on," Hook insisted. He stretched out his arms in righteousness while his hips did a cha-cha. "Women's liberation is sexy."
They started to leave.
"You having a laugh?" Hook asked after them. "Ladies! Come back! My hook needs a polish!"
"We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot. Drink up me 'earties, yo ho."
David was mumbling the lyrics to A Pirate's Life for Me as he shuffled into the galley. Peering over the stack of hand towels in his arms he saw a scene that would have been frightened the daylights out of anyone (except David was used to this visual).
"Yo ho, yo…Oh, hey there Gold."
The older man looked up. He was standing in front of a large waist high table which held jars of spices, cuts of chilled fish, and a plethora of vegetables. His forehead was a sheen of sweat, explaining why his shoulder length hair was tied back. A dishrag was tucked in his dirtied apron and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He was currently running an 8-inch carbon steel chef's knife along a Whet stone.
"Charming," Gold greeted neutrally. His blazing fast knife hand hesitated. "How goes the laundry business?"
"Funny. How many hand towels?"
"Five," Gold replied, holding out his hand which he then retracted. "Nooo, six."
David gave him an insufferable look and handed over the six clean towels.
"Much obliged."
"So, what's on the menu for today?"
David was elbows on the table, hand holding his chin as he watched the master at work. It was David's mid-morning break and he usually spent it at the opposite side of Gold's work station. It had become customary for the two men to carry out casual conversation around this time. While it was strange that two people with absolutely nothing in common (especially their ages and moral codes) could have this kind of camaraderie, it was the simple, light conversation that came easy. That didn't mean they talked about their budding friendship or shared tears over their personal issues. After all, their relationship was far from Beaches material.
"Poisson du jour est –"
"English," David reminded, "if you will."
The chef let out a sigh. "Fish of the day is a halibut which will be baked and then flaked once cooled. The sandwich filling consists of…" he stared off trying to pluck the ingredients from memory,"… mayonnaise, sundried tomatoes, basil, parsley, capers, lemon zest, and a cracking of salt and pepper. Toss in the fish, mix 'er up, and spread on lightly toasted ciabatta bread. Soup on the side, of course."
"Recipe?" the prince prompted.
"Giada."
David nodded, familiar with the Dark One's fascination with the Food Network star. "Don't you think she has a big –"
"Yes," Gold grated out. He glared from across the table. "I am well aware."
"I mean, she can stuff about 50 porcini mushrooms in that thing."
Gold rolled his eyes and snapped, "I dare you to do better."
"Hey," David shrugged innocently, "bitch can cook."
"She can indeed."
There was a scrap of metal to wood as a bowl of arugula was slid over.
"Stems off, please."
David accepted the bowl and began tearing the tough stems. Where Gold acquired arugula on a boat in the middle of the sea was beyond him. David chalked it up to magic and moved on.
"So how about them Blackhawks?"
Gold set the knife down, giving David a reproachful look. "I know what you're doing. And it's not going to work."
"What? They were down one in the first period, but –"
"Drop it. Hockey stats won't get you out of it this time." His tongue clicked as impatience melted away for what appeared to be compassion. "This war with Hook has to stop."
"Goddamnit!" A palm slapped the table with a crack. The poor arugula jumped from the bowl and scattered. "I'm sick of this laundry bullshit! Hook knows he's getting under my skin because of it. It's sick and it's twisted. All those stories I heard in the local village… of the fearless pirate sailing between worlds. Beat the Kraken to a pulp with only one hand, did you know that?" Gold shook his head and shrugged. David laughed sentimentally. It died the moment he looked at the stack of towels beside him. "I can't believe I looked up to him."
Drying off his hands Gold whipped it onto his shoulder and planted one hand on the table, the other to his hip. He sighed out, "The guy has a wicked streak, I'll give you that." He picked up on the strangled cry and changed track. "But people change. You just need some patience. And confidence couldn't hurt your chances either."
"Easier said than done, man. Hey, what did you do when Belle turned you down?"
"Whoa, now. When did this become about me? We were talking about you and your issues with the captain."
"But you gotta give me some advice! Come on, I think we know each other well enough now. After how I just opened my soul about my boyhood crush you've gotta give me something. Don't leave me hangin' Gold."
"Absolutely not," Gold replied sternly, using the point of his knife for emphasis. "I refuse to get my hair braided while I cry about my problems."
David drew back wearing an expression of manly concern. He inquired softly, "Do you cry a lot?" At the sign of a knife flashing the prince surrendered with hands up. "Forget I said anything!"
The blade lowered as steely imp eyes held their target. "I think it's time to divert to another subject."
David exhaled a long held breath. He retrieved the petrified arugula and went back to tearing.
"You notice anything different about Regina? Lately she's been kind of withdrawn around Mary Margaret and I."
The knife stopped chopping. After a moment Gold responded, "No." The knife resumed its slicing.
"What's with the pause?"
"Don't know what you're talking about."
The upper deck was quiet by afternoon. Emma found Regina on the bow. She was sitting against the foremast, bare feet stretched out before her and reading a book. A light wind breezed through her hair as she read, completely oblivious to the onlooker. On her nose rested a pair of generic reading glasses.
"Watcha reading?"
Brown eyes still holding text, the book was lifted. Heart of Darkness.
"How appropriate."
"I know what you're thinking. Rest assured it's not about hearts." She gave Emma a curious look and asked, "Have you read it?"
Emma shook her head and sat across from her.
"Well, it is an adventure story and I am sure a bit more profound than most pictures books you've read."
"Ha, funny, ha."
Regina grinned. After slipping off her glasses she marked her place and closed the cover. "It recounts the tale of a sailor by the name of Marlow. He makes passage up the Congo River, the underbelly of civilization, where he meets pilgrims, cannibals, and the infamous Mr. Kurtz. At the forefront the novel deals with imperialism and the exploitation of the African natives. Reading between the lines you will find both romantic mysticism and a glimpse into the darkest corners of human nature."
"Mm, I'm sure you identify with the natives. Misunderstood souls and all that."
"Well… yes, the savages are much more civilized than they are made out to be."
Emma pulled her knees up to her chest, taking pleasure in the scene of Regina deep in thought. "Somehow I think that story is more about hearts than you let on."
"I thought you never read it."
Emma returned her pointed look and grinned. "Hey, if it gets me in her…"
"Don't."
Emma chuckled.
A finger tapped on the book and eventually Regina had to hide her amusement.
"Just what is it between you two, anyway? Every time you're around Hook it's like watching high school sweethearts catching up."
"Who's spying now?" mused Regina with a snicker. "Why should it matter if Hook and I have a history?"
"It matters because I want to know!" Emma shot back a bit louder than anticipated. "I.. I mean, it's just weird seeing you like that. With him. I didn't realize it was more than rivalry that brought you two together."
"Things were not always so pleasant between us. But when they were good, they were good." Regina saw the reddening tips of Emma's ears and chuckled softly. "Our paths have crossed multiple times and over the years Hook taught me much of living in the moment. The thrill of adventure and its risks, all the treasure it yielded… it was exciting. He was exciting."
Pale thin lips parted and then closed. Emma looked down sheepishly and mumbled, "He seems to know how to make you laugh."
"For all that bravery and goodness you sure don't think that highly of yourself, do you?" Regina let out her exasperation in a heavy sigh. Sometimes it took the most blatant of tricks up her sleeve to convince the blonde of her intentions. "What do you want me to say, Emma? That I didn't have a little fun along the way? That I took no pleasure in the exotic and the mysterious?" Her expression turned a shade darker while her tone lowered dangerously. "I can assure you, there is nothing fun about being queen to the man you were married off to. I had no choice but to run into the arms of men like Killian. It was escapism, nothing more."
"Did your husband ever catch you?"
"Once."
From the look on her face it was evident that Regina didn't want to elaborate. There was something more than hatred lurking behind that one word and it was more than desperation that urged Emma to pull her in, to take away the pain that lingered and the nights that haunted. Emma wanted to surround her in comforting touches and assuring promises. And she wanted to do so much more. Three simple words. That was all it took. Let. Me. In.
"I wish I had known you then."
"No, you don't. I was foolish," Regina dismissed. After a beat she added, "And young."
"That's exactly why."
The admission provoked a small gasp. The shock of it spurred Regina to turn away shyly. There were so many ugly shaped pieces of her past that were responsible for whom she was today. Some of those pieces had been engineered by those who sought her downfall, others crafted by her own hand. In time she learned of the futility in escaping one's mistakes, but she did learn the wisdom in keeping a safe distance. Just as she kept that life at arm's length, she also wanted to keep it far from Henry and Emma.
Out of pure curiosity she looked back to witness the still present guise of compassion. Emma's blunt honesty may be reason enough to open up and to accept that there were a few good pieces of her worth sharing. The fact that Emma cared about the person underneath and not the reputation made her eyes turn glassy. She cocked her head and returned the adoration in kind. She smiled.
They sat across from each other, silent with eyes smiling. After a while Regina decided it was time leave the chilly bow for the warmth of her bed. She surprised Emma by leaning in to place a tender kiss on her lips.
"By the way, you look cute in a little grease."
Emma noticed her gaze before she departed. Quickly wiping at her nose, her hand came away with the smudge. She scowled to herself. If Regina started calling her grease monkey she would never live that one done. Ever.
She definitely preferred 'Miss Swan.'
