Emma sat in the Sheriff's station, feet kicked up on her desk and reclined back in her rolling chair. Her hands were poised over her head, prepared for her three-pointer attempt, a crumpled ball of scrap paper held keenly in one. With her tongue stuck slightly out of her mouth and eyes narrowed in total concentration, she released a long breath and then took her shot. Her green eyes, which had taken on an bluish hue that day, followed the paper ball in slow motion as it soared through the air in a perfect arc before settling cleanly into the waste bin across the room.
"An ace shot at the buzzer!" She cried out to her otherwise empty office, jumping to her feet and throwing her hands in the air. "It's raining three's, and Emma Swan is the all-time champion!" She mimicked a cheering crowd as she praised herself, bowing to her imaginary audience.
"Very mature, dear." Emma spun at the husky voice, eyes wide. She floundered over syllables as the Evil Queen stepped through the doorway towards her, smiling devilishly. "Tell me, is this what they pay the Sheriff for in this town?"
Emma shrugged. "When there aren't any emergencies to tend to, yeah, pretty much." She sat back down at her desk casually. "I actually have a shit-ton of paperwork I should be doing right now, but, y'know, I'm not."
"You always shirk your responsibilities?" The queen asked with an arched eyebrow.
"As often as possible, yes," the blonde grinned, and the dark woman laughed in response. Emma took a moment to stare at her, feeling that light, airy laugh seep into her body. There was a light in the queen's smile. Nothing dark. Nothing evil or diabolical. It was beautifully familiar to the young Sheriff.
The queen caught her eyes. "Have a staring problem, do we?"
Emma smiled. "Not usually, but right now, yes. It's so weird, you know? I mean, you're the Evil Queen. The big bad wolf who sent us all here. The monster under the bed. You're the one person I'm supposed to hate and be the most afraid of. Or at least, that's what everyone's told me." She shrugged her shoulders. "But, the thing is, I don't hate you, and I'm not scared of you. Sure, you've got your... um, quirks, but you don't seem so evil to me."
"And how do I seem to you?" The queen asked. Her smirk remained as playfully wicked as ever, but her voice was laced with geniuine curiosity.
Emma's smile remained soft. "You just seem like Regina to me."
All pretense melted from the queen's expression with that single statement. No one had ever said that to her. No one had ever allowed her to be just Regina. Not since Daniel. For her mother, she'd had to be the perfect daughter. For Leopold, she'd had to be his dutiful wife and Queen. For Snow, she'd had to be the replacement mother who would never be good enough. For her father, she'd had to be the strong one to carry his weaknesses. To the kingdom, she was the Evil Queen. The bitter, angry creature they had made her into. No one had ever thought about who and what she wanted to be, not in a very long time.
No one except Emma Swan.
She felt a wetness in her eyes and a tug at her heart, both of which felt foreign to her after so many years of wearing her mask, and quickly composed herself. She wasn't quite fast enough, though. Emma had noticed the slip of the facade, the crack in the wall. She had seen the glimmer of the woman she knew so well. The woman she dreamed about at night.
"Well, you're foolish to not fear me," the Evil Queen said in a thick voice. "You've heard all the stories-they're true. I could kill you easily."
"You could," Emma granted with a nod, then smiled knowingly, "but you won't."
"What makes you so confident?" The brunette smirked.
"Because you're using me to fuck with Regina," the Sheriff sighed, and the queen frowned slightly. Had she been so transparent? "If you kill me, that game is over, and we both know you love to play games." Emma winked at her. "I'm really good at reading people."
"Maybe I won't kill you, Savior." The queen sauntered up to Emma, sashaying her hips. She leaned over the seated blonde, her hands gripping the arms of the chair as she lowered herself so they were only mere inches apart. "But I could corrupt you." She grinned at how the Sheriff's eyes flickered from her lips to the generous amount of cleavage that her dress allowed, totally entranced. "By the looks of things, it wouldn't be so difficult." She moved closer to the blonde, and their breath mingled. "The forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest, dear."
Emma swallowed, losing herself in those dark eyes. "... Regina."
"Knock, knock-whoa!" David frowned and immediately went for his gun. "Get away from my daughter, witch!"
The queen straightened up, leaving Emma in a breathy, shocked heap in the chair. "Ah, Charming. How... charming to see you again."
"Away from my daughter!" He repeated, the sights of his pistol aimed down at her. "Now! I won't say it again."
"Dad," Emma said once she finally managed to dislodge her voice from the back of her throat. "That's really not necessary. She wasn't going to hurt me." At least not in a way I wouldn't have enjoyed, she added in her head, then cursed herself for it.
"All due respect, but you don't know her like I do, Emma," David insisted, never once moving his eyes from the queen, who looked quite smugly satisfied with the fear he buried underneath his bravado. "She's evil, and she's capable of terrible things. Things you can't even imagine."
"Yes, dear," the Evil Queen grinned back at the Sheriff with eyes that glinted suggestively. "The things I would do to you." She licked her lips hungrily.
Mustering a self-control that she hadn't previously believed herself capable of, Emma ignored her. "All due respect, Dad, but I don't think you know her at all." David frowned at his daughter. "You know the thing you created in your head. The Evil Queen. The monster. She's more than that."
"She is not the Regina you know," he argued.
"Actually, she is," Emma said back, standing to her feet. "She's a part of the Regina I know. A part that I happen to like." She stepped between the queen and her father's gun. "So, unless you want to shoot me, too, you should put the gun down."
David hesitated a moment, eyes locked on the queen, before looking to his daughter and lowering the gun.
"Thank you," Emma sighed, shoulders relaxing.
"She's still dangerous," he told her with a stern look.
"I know that," the blonde admitted with a nod, "but she hasn't done anything wrong. You can be paranoid all you like, but no one is coming after her unless she does something to deserve it. Or else they'll have me to deal with."
"Emma, I-"
Before he could finish, a hand gripped Emma's shoulder tightly. She looked down just in time to see black, neat nails glossing back at her before everything was enveloped in purple smoke.
"Emma!"
When the smoke finally subsided, Emma found herself standing in the middle of The Rabbit Hole. There was a stir from the other patrons of the bar at the shocking intrusion, but they all fell silent when they caught sight of the Evil Queen. Emma started to fall forward, lightheaded as she always was after apparating, but a hand keenly grabbed her wrist and steadied her. Looking back, Emma saw the queen standing there and smiling at her.
"Easy, dear," she said. "I came here for a drink-don't tell me you're already drunk."
"Magic makes me dizzy," Emma excused. "Why did... You want to have a drink with me?"
Regina's eyes danced with mirth. "I'd love to."
Emma hesitated, then shrugged. "Why not? David just took over at the station for me, so I'm officially off the clock. And I could use something strong. Although, y'know, you could've just asked me to grab a drink with you rather than all the theatrics." She saddled onto a stool at the bar and looked back at the queen. "You joining me?"
Regina shook off her initial shock at how easily Emma agreed to drink with her and took the seat across from her. "Of couse, dear."
The queen ordered herself a Brandy while the off-duty Sheriff decided upon a talk, dark beer.
"So, thanks," Emma said, looking at the woman beside her who knit her brow. "For not crushing my heart when we first saw each other. I don't think I ever thanked you for that."
The queen laughed. "You're thanking me for not killing you?"
"More or less, yeah," Emma smiled. "I know that must've taken some restraint at the time."
Somewhat," Regina nodded. "I am thankful I didn't, though. I cannot imagine who unbearably dull this town would be without you in it, Savior."
"Well, you know me," the blonde shrugged. "I'm like a big bottle of tequila: the party doesn't start until I walk in." She looked up. "Speaking of-can we got some tequila shots over here please!"
"Are you trying to get me drunk?" The queen teased.
"I'm trying to get me drunk," Emma corrected. "It's been a tough couple of days. Younger you has been following me around like a lost puppy, and present day you has been biting my head off every two seconds because of how stressed out she is. I need-no, I deserve some goddamn tequila."
The queen looked over the Savior's face carefully. "She should treat you better." Emma looked back at her in surprise. "You're very good to her, and she doesn't deserve it. She's very fortunate to have someone like you in her life." A wry smile separated plump, blood red lips. "As a friend, of course."
Emma eyed her strangely. "Regina is my friend, and I care about her. She's come a very long way over the years, and she deserves to be happy more than anyone I know. I'm the Savior, and I'm going to help her find her happy ending. Whatever, or whoever, it is." She took a sip of her beer to hide her cringe. It was something Emma had given more than a small amount of thought to. What would happen when she did find Regina's happy ending? When she found her True Love? Obviously, hers and the mayor's fuck-buddy relationship would come to an end. Emma didn't know how she would deal with that. How she could walk away from one of the only things that made her feel really alive anymore.
The Evil Queen noticed the Savior's strange, pained expression, and she frowned. This was curious. She opened her mouth to speak but was promptly interrupted.
"What in the bloody hell is this!" They both looked up to see Killian Jones standing behind them, eyes lit in rage as he looked between the two women and their uncomfortably close proximity.
Emma groaned, letting her head fall on the table. "Hook, what do you want?"
"I want to know what's going on here, Swan!" He ordered. "I want to know what you're doing hanging out with the likes of her!"
"I'm sorry, but what is the one-handed wonder doing here?" Regina said, and Hook's eyes narrowed.
"I'll gut you," he growled at her, extending his hook out.
"No, you definitely won't," Emma snapped, standing and stepping into her ex-boyfriend's face. She'd broken up with him months ago, but he still hadn't grasped the concept that they were no longer together. That she didn't want to see him anymore. She couldn't quite understand why. There had been none of that "it's not you it's me" or "we should stay friends" bullshit. She'd told him outright that she didn't want to be with him anymore. That she didn't care for him the way he needed her to. She'd told him, and he certainly hadn't taken it well. The amount of drunken phone calls she'd recieved in the middle of the night, both angry and sad, since then was astonishing.
"She's evil, Swan," he maintained, gesturing to the queen. "Pure evil."
"Oh, will you put this fucking thing away?" Emma said, shoving his hook down. "It's not like you're a fucking saint yourself." She looked into his bloodshot eyes that refused to focus. "You're drunk. Surprise, surprise. Go home and sleep it off, Killian."
"You shouldn't be keeping company with her, love," he slurred. "She's dangerous."
"You don't get to dictate who I spend my time with," she said back. "Because we are broken up. Get that in your head. We're no longer together. Not a couple anymore. Old news. Ancient history."
He placed a hand on her waist. "You can say that as much as you like, but it doesn't change the way I feel about you. I can't just turn my feelings off, Emma. I love you."
"You love the idea of loving me," Emma told him, trying to remain patient. "But we are not good for each other. We never were, really. And it's time for you to face up to that."
"You're all I want, Swan," he insisted. "We are good for each other. I'll show you." He tightened his hold on her and smashed his lips against hers. The stench of his rum-soaked breath made her nose crinkle. Emma kept her mouth closed tightly as his tongue fought for entry. If this is True Love's kiss, she thought, then it's pretty fucking disappointing. And slobbery.
Emma fought to push Hook off of her, but he held on tightly. She was about to lift her knee into his groin when an outside force shoved him off of her. He yelped out as he was thrown backwards, landing hard on his back and skidding back on the floor a few feet before slumping against the wall. Emma frowned and looked behind her. The queen's arm was extended out, palm held out and nostrils flaring. A rage-fueled fire burned in her eyes.
"What the hell?" Hook staggered to his feet and looked at the queen. "You did that! You used magic on me! I'll run you through, you goddamn harpy!" He started to run torward her, sword drawn, but Emma stopped him from advancing past her.
"No!" She shouted at him angrily, and he looked at her. "You're not going to do any fucking thing to her. You're going to walk out that door the way you came, and you're going to leave me-and her-the fuck alone!"
He glared at her. "You're really choosing the Evil Queen over me?"
She shrugged and crossed her arms. "What can I say? She's better company overall." Over her shoulder, the queen sneered smugly.
Hook shook his head, backing away clumsily. "You're bloody insane, Swan. I knew you were fucking damaged in the head, but I didn't know it was this bad. Well, have a great time with your girlfriend." He pushed the door open, then looked back over at her icily. "I was growing bored of you anyway, Swan. Plenty other wenches out there without so much fucking baggage."
"Yeah, well, go have fun with them," Emma called back as he staggered out. "Fucking prick."
"You're quite good at picking suitors, dear," the queen noted as they retook their seats at the bar. "He's a real gentleman."
"Yeah, I'm pretty stupid when it comes to guys," Emma admitted, taking another drink of her beer. "I mean, Neal framed me for theft and got me locked up for eleven months. Hook... well, he's just Hook. I know a winner when I see one." She shook her head and downed the rest of her drink, chasing it with one of the tequila shots the bartender poured out for her. The alcohol loosened her tongue, coaxing her into a warm sense of comfort. "That's why I'm giving up on men. Never again."
"Never say never, dear," the queen said back, sipping from her own drink and watching as the Sheriff emptied another shot glass of tequila.
"Oh, I'm saying it," Emma said, looking at the woman beside her with big, serious eyes. "Never, ever, never, ever again. You know, I've never been all that crazy about dudes anyway. I mean, sometimes they're good and all, but there's just... I don't know, there's something about a woman, y'know. Something about someone who knows exactly where to touch you. And women smell better than men, too. Ever noticed that? Like, men have this musk. It's not always bad, but it's a bit too much for me. Women are lighter. Sweeter. Prettier." Emma hesitated. "Y'know, I've never said it before out loud, but I think I might be gay."
"It's certainly a possibility," the queen chuckled.
Emma looked around the bar in front of her. "Why don't I have a drink right now? Bartender-more shots, and keep them coming for me and my friend all night long!"
The Evil Queen smiled as she sipped her drink. All night long, hm? She liked the sound of that.