A/N: A requested piece for the prompt "strip poker". Enjoy, and please comment!
Regina pulls up outside the station with a frown. She had been on her way home, but spying a soft glow of light coming from the cellblock windows at this time of night had piqued her interest.
After all, the Sheriff is not one to put in any extra hours.
"Well, I suppose your pathetic flake of a housemate might finally have grown tired of you, dear."
One could hardly blame her...
Not at all, but in truth, she doubts that Mary Margaret will have kicked the blonde out - the schoolteacher forever doting on the younger woman in a most repulsive fashion - which begs the question of just what Emma might be up to so late at night after hours.
Why are you so curious about the Swan woman all of a sudden? Surely you have better things to preoccupy yourself with?
She purses her lips irritably when none come to mind.
Just recently, she has found herself questioning some of her motives when it comes to the Sheriff, as she can't help but feel that an inordinate amount of her time is consumed thinking about the blonde.
Of course I'm stuck thinking about her! I know who the dratted woman is - what she is! - and that's the reason - the only reason - Miss Swan currently lives rent-free in my mind...
Slipping from her Benz, she pulls her coat closer to her slim frame and marches up the path to the front entrance of the station. She raises a brow when she reaches the door, spotting two, new terracotta plant pots neatly placed on either side of the concrete step, each containing a small colony of daffodils. She finds it hard to imagine Emma being behind such thoughtful decor but supposes there's not really anyone else who might be to blame.
"Such a common choice of bulb, Sheriff."
She sniffs dutifully as she lets herself into the hallway, closing the door behind her. She jumps as a loud crow of exuberance - and, most likely, inebriation - echoes down the corridor, before taking a few hesitant steps forward as she makes out the low voice of the blonde and the excitable chatter of the irritating little waitress from the diner.
Recognising Ruby's unabashed giggling, her brow furrows deeper. The waitress seems to be spending more and more time with the Sheriff; following her around as though she might be the latter's lapdog, something which Emma seems to be surprisingly okay with. So unlikely and fast appears their friendship, she had worried the blonde might have been gearing up to appoint Ruby as her Deputy with the role still open for the taking, and she had been quick to warn her that this was not a decision she would allow to go unopposed; earning herself an irritable huff and a poisonous green-eyed glare, but Emma had assured her sullenly that she was merely being friendly.
"An unlikely story..."
The Mayor mutters, finding the idea of the blonde being friendly entirely preposterous.
The woman is vile, and thorny as a rose; the term simply doesn't suit her... And yet...
As she continues to eavesdrop on the raucous laughter coming from the office, she catches the Sheriff's familiar sarcastic grumbling take on husky good humour; Emma chuckling something unintelligible to her companion, her mirth accompanied by a dull thud and a high-pitched screech of glee.
Regina cocks her head thoughtfully as she catches the telling scrape of a chair against the concrete floor.
"Hang on, there's some ice cream in the freezer. Don't you go-..."
But the rest is just a throaty murmur that she can't make out. She understands enough to suspect that the blonde will emerge from the office at any second to make her way to the small kitchen at the back of the building, however, and she pulls herself together with swift authority; ready to face her self-appointed nemesis and give her a strict telling off for whatever springs to mind.
...What?
She blinks, utterly stunned when she lays eyes on the Sheriff.
Had Emma taken the time to scope out her surroundings, she would have clocked the brunette stood staring at her in the hallway right away. As it is, she pads lightly towards the kitchen without a second glance. The lightness of her footsteps is due to the fact that she has discarded the use of her boots. In fact, she hurries down the hall with one foot entirely bare... Much the same as her torso; pale flesh providing a striking contrast to the green lace that runs a thin slash of colour across her back.
Frowning as she tries to comprehend what she's walked in on, Regina shakes her head before stalking stiffly towards the kitchen to find out just what in the hell the younger woman might be playing at. She moves into the threshold of the kitchenette silently, observing the soft indents of the blonde's spine as she bends down to access the freezer. Clearing her throat loudly, she adopts an aloof expression as the younger woman jerks violently and turns around.
"Regina?!"
Emma barks, wincing as her head collides with the door of the fridge in her haste to face her intruder.
"Miss Swan... What on earth are you doing?"