Raising an eyebrow as she detects a low creak coming from the kitchen, Regina adopts a smirk as this disturbance gives way to a much less discreet commotion of banging and muttering.

Seconds later, she's greeted with a low apology.

"I broke a plate."

"Well, dear, if you didn't insist on climbing through my kitchen window like an escaped convict, perhaps you would refrain from endangering my crockery?"

She sighs without looking up from the letter she annotates at her desk.

"You know, it'd be a lot easier if you'd leave your damn keys out."

"The spare key is where it's always been, Miss Swan."

"I told you before! How am I supposed to know which rock is the fake rock with the key in it, when they all look the same?"

"I believe that's the main selling feature of that design, Sheriff."

"Yeah, well..."

Emma huffs, stalking further into the room and falling down onto the sofa facing the open fire; too used to the Mayor's chilly reception to spare any real irritation towards the fact she remains more or less ignored.

"Did Henry enjoy himself?"

Regina asks distractedly as she makes a neat line through one of her earlier notes and amends it slightly.

Looking back over her shoulder at the brunette, the younger woman nods; twisting slightly in her seat so as to address her while drinking in the glow of the flames playing patterns over dark tresses.

"Yeah, it was good. He ended up wanting me to dress him up as Aladdin... Friend of yours?"

"The name doesn't ring a bell, no."

The brunette answers with a small note of irritability; finding Emma's sarcastic and grossly-skewed perception of her old world to be a nuisance at the best of times.

Which, of course, is why she says things like that...

Sighing as she's unable to bite back a small smirk after all, the Mayor finally looks up to regard her guest.

"Well that's-..."

Regina trails off into silence as her dark eyes glitter with the flames that roar inside the hearth.

She takes in excessively tousled hair and deep, smokey makeup with surprise; her clear appreciation for what she sees causing a slow smile to spread across the blonde's painted lips.

"That's what?"

Emma prompts innocently.

"Good... It's good that Henry had a nice time."

"I told you he would."

"Arrogance is most unflattering, Miss Swan."

The brunette reprimands coldly, but Emma simply grins; looking back at her host pointedly.

"I don't know about that..."

"Yes. Well."

Regina replies silkily, knowing by now not to take offence. After all, Emma has proved quite adamantly- not to mention nakedly- that she enjoys the self-assured grace of the Queen, just as the brunette must begrudgingly admit that she enjoys the younger woman's queer blend of calm and chaos.

Pushing herself up, Regina makes her way to the sofa and faces the Sheriff with her hands on her hips.

"You look... Different."

She states unnecessarily.

Rolling her eyes, the blonde deciphers the Mayor's true meaning with a wicked glint sparkling behind heavy kohl lines.

"Thank you."

Nodding as she turns to the liquor cabinet to appease her sudden craving for something strong to bring her back to her senses, the brunette speaks over her shoulder; bending just a little lower than necessary as she feels cool green roaming over her lithe form unapologetically, causing her to smile.

"What makes you think it was a compliment, dear?"

She teases.

"Your eyes say what your lips do not, Madame Mayor."

Emma replies breezily, and Regina laughs, the sound accompanied by the melodic chink of the glasses in her hand touching one another.

"Is that so?"

"You tell me..."

Sighing as she supposes she should at least acknowledge the younger woman's efforts to add a little drama to pale features, she places the glasses down on top of the cabinet wearily; trying to find the right words as she and Emma seem to have very different views on what constitutes a compliment.

As we learnt from Miss Swan's 'you have awesome bed-hair' debacle.

"I have no complaints... It's not really what I had envisaged when you promised to bring me around on the idea of Halloween, but I have to say, I'm almost relieved."

"What were you envisaging?"

"Oh, I don't know. Knowing you, something crass and highly inappropriate."

"Well, I haven't taken my coat off yet."

The blonde's contrary response earns her another low chuckle before the Queen realises with a growing sense of intrigue that her long, buttoned-up coat actually does seem a little out of character. Dropping her gaze to drink the younger woman in fully, she looks back up at her curiously.

"New boots?"

"Actually, no, although I'm not sure how proud I am of that fact."

Emma admits as she glances down at stiletto-heeled leather.

Regina simply nods; eyes trained on the Sheriff as the younger woman moves from the sofa to stand facing her. She notes that the blonde's frequent refusal to dress in this more feminine manner in no way means that she can't pull the look off.

"So, is that my treat? Under your coat?"

She asks, prompting the blonde to grin at this rather corny inquiry, but the Sheriff swiftly pulls herself together; cocking her head to one side as she studies the darker woman with impish mischief.

"Maybe..."

She agrees, and Regina rolls her eyes as she tires of waiting. Still, she's cut off from any further form of scolding when the blonde takes a step forward and claims a kiss. Splaying her fingers out over the younger woman's wool-covered waist, she applies light pressure as a form of admonishment before unbuttoning the heavy material to reveal the scant fabric Emma wears beneath.

"... Is this some sort of joke?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean..."