Thanks for all the new follows and reviews. Keep 'em comin' and enjoy!
Song: Strip by Jessie J
"You bought that?" Smoky caramel eyes flickered over the red leather jacket, far too small for Emma's bulging belly. "Using my money?"
"You said not to get something cheap. What's more expensive than high-end leather from a boutique shop?" Emma reasoned, perfect clueless tone and expression. A few customers chuckled behind them, and Regina readjusted her shoulders, death glare silencing the crowd that consisted mostly of fisherman too tired for festivities or those slapped with the night shift grabbing breakfast before heading off to work.
"I thought perhaps something that actually fit, Miss Swan, might be more appropriate," Regina scathed. Too late now. The idiot girl waited until the very last moment to present this ridiculous dilemma. She pinched the bridge of her nose, chasing the headache that followed her around during the evenings until she relieved it with a drink.
"My jeans and boots fit just fine, see?" Emma twisted her foot on the tip of the brand new soft brown leather riding boot, displaying it for Regina. It actually sort of resembled Regina's black ones. Except Regina wore black sheer tights over her legs, a knee-length black skirt, and a dark greyish-black pea coat with a light blue scarf peaking over the collar. Ruby red lips were dulled to a darker crimson, probably to put people at ease instead of remind her of the spitfire bitch beneath the perfectly styled hair and tailored clothes.
"Fine. I don't care if you'll be a frozen clown by the end of tonight's events. We're already late. Your punctuality resembles your fashion choice, Miss Swan."
"Badass and stylish?"
"Not the descriptors I'd use, Dear."
"You two take it outside. You're scaring away my customers," Granny growled from the food window, steam and heat rising from the grill to blotch her leathery cheeks.
"Granny, your customers love me. I can't speak for Mayor Tight Ass here, but I'm the best thing that's happened to this diner since your apple pie."
"Like the Bubonic Plague was the best thing for population control," Regina muttered, still pinching her nose.
"It did touch so many lives, and none was immune to its power," Emma agreed dreamily, flashing a brilliant smile when Regina raised an incredulous expression.
"You're impossible." Regina brushed past her, fully expecting her new puppy to follow. The ingenuous trollop wouldn't resist the opportunity to irritate her with every breath.
"C'mon, Mayor Hot Pants, admit it. You sort of, maybe like me." Patrons snickered and exaggerated interest in coffee cups and half-eaten burgers as Regina tore through the diner with Emma clamoring at her heels.
"I'll admit to no such atrocious embellishment of the truth even a politician would be ashamed to spin," Regina grouched and ripped the door open. An arm jerked into the cool evening, and Emma smirked as she slipped into the nippy air before her chaperone.
"Tell Rubes I'll meet her at the carnival thingy," Emma called to Granny over her shoulder. The old woman grumbled something indiscernible, and then the warmth of the diner disappeared completely with the slamming of a door and rattling of a little bell.
"Here," Emma grunted and shoved a small bottle into Regina's stomach. Clear glitter nail polish she'd not noticed before shimmered in the faint light, irritating her more… Ruby's addition to her outfit, no doubt. "Your hands are shaking." Regina glared at the shot of spiced rum, followed the arm beneath red leather to a pair of serious green eyes darkened by dusk and heavy emotion. "Don't say anything, just drink it."
"How…"
"I said not to say anything. I swiped it, okay? I'm not old enough to buy it, and Granny told me that you had panic attacks and stuff in big crowds so I figured you'd need it tonight." Emma snagged her wrist, turning her hand palm up, and slapped the bottle into it.
"I do not need alcohol, Miss Swan." The protest sounded weak and pathetic, even to her own ears. They both knew that Emma knew better. Little thief knew how to read people, to notice what others missed.
"Right."
"Who are you?" Regina asked. Not many people surprised her or stood up to her or showed her anything resembling kindness – not for years. This girl picked apart her motives and life within four days of stunted interactions. From that very first conversation, she'd noticed the woman beneath the façade.
Emma shoved her hands into the leather jacket and shrugged. "I'll let you know when I figure it out." She sighed a heavy stream of white breath and glanced towards the brightly lit town square and carnival in the park just across the street from Regina's office. "I don't mind crowds. It's easier than trying to talk to someone one-on-one. What's your deal with 'em anyway?"
Regina turned up the bottle, guzzling half the contents from the tiny neck. Caramel eyes fluttered and closed in relief as the substance soothed her nerves and desire for the warmth in her belly, the burn in her throat. "I've been anxious around large groups since I was a child."
"Why?"
Regina finished the contents and shoved the empty container into her purse. "We're late." Again, she stalked ahead, running from the genuine interest in her life. The girl had already proven mastery at manipulation. The less she knew, the harder she'd have to work to use that information to her advantage.
Thankfully, Emma took the hint and trudged alongside her in silence. Regina hesitated at the edge of the festivities, as unwilling to soil her shoes on the grass as she was to carve a fake smile onto her face and say "Happy Founder's Day" a thousand times before collapsing into her Luxuria memory foam mattress and goose down duvet. Thankfully, experience traded her Jimmy Choos for a pair of black knee-high boots, still stylish and comfortable but dropped her height several inches – something Emma reminded her of with each step as her ear bobbed at the girl's shoulder. At least her feet would be warm and at ease for the duration of the ridiculous celebration.
The scent of cinnamon and apples and pumpkin-flavored everything soothed the remainder of frazzled nerves bundled in the knot slowly easing from a tightly wound coil in her belly. The thought, more often than the experience, caused such high anxiety. Emma sucked a noisy breath into her nostrils and exhaled a contented sigh through her mouth, secretly amusing the fussy mayor. Regina allowed a solitary moment to study the young woman paid to be at her side – the sharp contour of her jaw and thin nose indicative of Nordic heritage, almost ethereal blonde hair falling in natural ringlets over her shoulders, those wonder-filled gray-green eyes greedily devouring all of the silly carnival stalls, and that stupid crooked smile that charmed the worst of them (a.k.a Leroy)… or maybe herself. No one would ever have guessed the child now practically vibrating with excitement slipped her stolen hooch only minutes before, wisdom and jadedness flickering in her eyes and the weight of the world on those thin shoulders.
"What's that?" Emma grabbed her forearm, quite unaware of her hand's actions as she stopped to admire a stall equipped with several clown heads sporting bullseyes in their mouths with guns anchored along the front table. A big banner with worn edges draped the table and proudly announced that all proceeds funded the summer little league team.
"You've never played shoot the clown?"
Emma shrugged, tugged at the pockets of her jacket as her eyes lowered. Regina rolled her eyes and dug a ten out of her purse. "But we're late," Emma protested. She was on duty as Regina's pet project to win the mayoral race.
"I'm the mayor, Miss Swan. They'll wait." Irritated with Emma's hesitation, she marched to the stall and shoved the money at a man Emma hadn't yet met. He gave her eight dollars of change and beckoned the girl now coy and insecure. "Do hurry, Miss Swan. I haven't all night to wait." The command lacked its usual bite, and Emma took a moment to analyze the new facet Regina revealed, not quite able to decipher the anxious grip on her purse or shifting from foot to foot.
"How does it work?"
"Shoot the water stream into the clown's mouth. If you raise it to a certain point, you win a prize," Regina instructed, trying to remain focused on Emma and not the little league coach eyeing her suspiciously.
Emma nodded, completely oblivious to the unusual attention her mentor garnered from the display of utter humanness. She gripped the pistol, took aim, and fired. For a few seconds, she thought the game might be easy… until the damn clown moved and destroyed her aim. "Almost had it," she saved face, more disappointed than she cared to admit.
Regina handed the man another two dollars and plopped her purse onto the table. Emma nearly jumped out of her new jacket when a warm hand touched the small of her back and guided her to the proper position. "It helps to lean down, get a better aim. Are you able?" She demonstrated, almost squatting in front of the gun to get eyelevel. Emma followed her instruction, too awestruck by Regina's willingness to interact with her to argue. Her belly made the position uncomfortable, but determination kept her there. Her soul reached out to this Regina, so utterly human and vulnerable and… friendly?
She wasn't the only one who noticed because when she turned around, full of giddy adrenaline and triumphant, a small crowd gawked and whispered. Regina's body bristled with tension and nervous energy. She really hated the attention, so Emma took it.
"Boom, baby! I am queen of the clowns!" She bowed, ridiculous as ever, and blew a kiss to the bystanders.
"That may be the most understated fact ever uttered, Miss Swan," Regina scratched.
Emma danced around the grumpy mayor and pointed at tiny stuffed white tiger. She tucked the fluffy thing into the collar of her jacket, perched on her shoulder like a badge of honor. "Oh, come on, Madame Mayor. You should play. Make the clown your bitch."
One side of Regina's mouth quirked, almost grinned even. "That, Miss Swan, would be an inappropriate breach of our contract," she responded so quietly that Emma barely heard her and then turned on a heel and continued toward the picnic area with long, graceful strides. After a moment of re-hinging her jaw, Emma shrugged at the man behind the table and chased after the older woman who was surprisingly fast with such short legs.
Sydney waited impatiently near a dais in town square and glanced at his watch twice before catching sight of his boss. "You're late. I hope you and Miss Swan enjoyed yourselves." He grinned at Regina slight surprise. "You know how quickly word of mouth travels in Storybrooke, Regina. Honestly. I do remember young Ruby's fondness of the game."
"Enough, Mr. Glass. I pay you to speak to them, not me."
"Ah, yes, your speech." He handed her a folded paper.
It was too late, though, Emma caught the tidbit of information and latched onto it like a leech. "You taught Ruby how to play shoot the clown?"
Regina shoved a few bills into her hand. "Do try to keep your grease and sugar consumption to a minimum, Miss Swan. We've achieved the desired impression. Your services are no longer required this evening."
The dismissal kicked Emma in the chest. Had that truly all been an act? She'd let her guard down for one freaking minute, and the cold-hearted woman slapped her heart and confidence around like a ragdoll. Emma tossed the money at her chest. "Guess it doesn't to take a breach in contract, does it? I told you, I'm not your freaking employee, and I won't be bought."
"She does have a way about her," Sydney murmured as he collected the money from the wet grass and Emma stomped off towards the game area.
Rather than respond, Regina turned her back to the crowd gathering to hear her annual speech about the greatness of Storybrooke and dug past the empty shot bottle Emma gave her earlier to the full one she'd brought on her own. Sydney sighed loudly but remained otherwise silent while she guzzled the amber liquid.