Regina sighs as she allows herself to be led back up to the blonde's bedroom; Emma exuding a concerning amount of uncharacteristic glee at her predicament.
She doubts things are about to turn out in her favour.
"Yes, yes, I'm coming, dear. Didn't you ever have a doll or anything to dress up?"
"Nope."
The blonde replies simply, and Regina thins her lips, realising she hasn't spared the younger woman's upbringing any real thought since their relationship has... Well... Become whatever it is now. She studies the Sheriff's retreating form thoughtfully as the latter leads them up iron steps; Emma's curls bouncing against the fluffy grey towel she clutches to her chest. Before she can conjure up a suitable quip to breeze past what she considers to be an awkward silence, they have reached the Sheriff's bedroom and the blonde turns to face her in a flash of teeth that is all humour and no hard feelings; green eyes glittering at her wickedly.
"You're going to be much more fun than a doll."
The younger woman assures her ominously.
"Somehow, I'm having trouble matching your enthusiasm, Miss Swan."
The Mayor muses primly, and Emma grins as she pads over to a narrow built-in wardrobe on the far side of her bedroom. Regina feels her lip curl with a curious blend of smug vindication and confused guilt when she notes that the majority of the closet's content remains shoved inside a series of cardboard boxes stacked one on top of the other.
"Were you planning on leaving soon, Sheriff?"
She teases silkily.
"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?... No, I just never really got around to unpacking is all."
Hm. Somehow I doubt that is all. You don't like getting too comfortable in any place, do you, dear? No matter how hard you've been trying to convince me I can't get rid of you, fight or flight is ingrained, and my guess is you're adept at both, but not quite so talented at just settling down.
Shaking herself from her contemplation - why must I keep psychoanalysing the little homewrecker?! - Regina shrugs and perches on the edge of the younger woman's bed, paying no concern to the way her blouse still billows damply open to reveal her bra.
She watches as the blonde rummages around in the top box and reemerges with a scrap of striped underwear. Momentarily dreading the Sheriff imagines she should don the somehow childish scrap of fabric, the Mayor opens her mouth to argue, but Emma simply steps into the cotton briefs and pulls them up. Regina has to bite back a smirk at the way the blonde wiggles them on beneath her towel as though protecting her modesty in spite of their recent activities in the bathroom.
Sussing the object of the Mayor's amusement, Emma raises a brow and disposes of her towel with a flick of her wrist; tossing it to land on her bed. The brunette instinctively reaches for it with a roll of her eyes and folds the damp material neatly in half before draping it over the radiator to her side to allow it a chance to actually dry.
The Sheriff turns her back to the Mayor, moving aside the top box and placing it behind her - allowing Regina to lean surreptitiously forward and glimpse an intriguing collection of cotton and lace - and begins hunting around in the one beneath. Eventually, she pulls out a light grey sweater cut short at the wrists and waist to be almost fashionable. Pulling it on and shaking out her hair, she finds a pair of woollen socks that pull up easily over her bandaged knees. Regina blinks, the completed ensemble incredibly, well, sweet, but a little odd. She ponders Emma's unlikely outfit uncertainly before she remembers the time and guesses the blonde is simply readying herself for bed.
She suffers a pang of jealousy as she is in no such luck.
"Do you want pants or a dress?"
"A dress?"
The Mayor expresses doubt within her tone, causing the blonde to cross her arms defensively over her chest as she comes to the conclusion the brunette isn't offering her a hesitant answer, but rather questioning the fact she should own such an item at all.
"Yes, Regina, a dress."
She replies cooly, and the darker woman smirks; Emma's retort so similar to her own mannerisms that it's uncanny. She makes an inquisitive gesture with her hand and the Sheriff roots around until she steps forth with her offering. Regina plucks at the light, white cotton of the younger woman's first option curiously, opting not to bother explaining to the Sheriff that such an item is called a summer dress for a reason, but inwardly resolving to find out what such a feminine garment looks like on the blonde come April.
The second option Emma holds out is the black dress she had worn last night, and Regina shakes her head immediately. She would sooner make her way home naked than wear that beautiful piece of tailoring; it is Emma's, and Emma's alone.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she moves from the bed to stand beside the Sheriff as she goes about replacing the dresses onto their hangers. She spies a simple denim skirt crumpled carelessly inside the box resting on top of the others, along with various jeans, sweatpants and a pair of denim shorts.
Very short shorts.
She pulls these from the box and holds them up with a smirk. Emma rolls her eyes and snatches them back; shoving them swiftly inside the closet and burying them beneath a pair of old jeans with a light blush creeping across her cheeks.
"I doubt I could even pay you to go home in those."
"Funny, they look like something in which you'd get paid plenty... Ones and fives add up, dear."
The brunette smirks coyly, but she runs her fingers over the blonde's hip to counter the bite to her words. Emma huffs and taps the Mayor's hand away irritably, but she continues to hunt through the boxes for something the darker woman can wear home. Regina looks on inquisitively, occasionally pulling out an item to study it in more depth before throwing it, disapprovingly, onto the blonde's bed.
"How is it possible for someone to own just one skirt and yet possess twenty-three tank tops?"
"You fucking counted?! Well, skirts are hardly the best thing to be wearing on the job, are they?"
"Oh yes, heaven forbid you actually partake in any activity besides procrastinating behind your desk... Although, I suppose given that you seem to spend so much of your time with your feet up, a skirt really isn't all too practical. Perhaps those little shorties would be more appropriate?"
"Oh, shut up, Madame Mayor. As much as it pains you, I get the job done... And besides, I already have Ruby around to fulfil the flesh-on-display quota."
"What's that supposed to mean? You 'have her around'?"
Regina demands, and Emma turns to the brunette upon sensing the tetchy change in her tone and raises a brow.
"Nothing, just that Ruby's been helping me with paperwork when she has the time."
"Is that so?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, I don't see the big deal? You wanted me to hire a Deputy, and she's pretty much helping out for free."
"... Sheriff, I don't deem Miss Lucas to really be Deputy material."
Regina confides silkily, and the blonde shrugs; her attention back on the clothes in front of her, oblivious to the frown crossing the darker woman's brow.
"Since when have you and her been so friendly, anyway?"
The Mayor pushes for more information.
"Hmm?"
"You and Ruby?... You just don't seem as though you'd have a great deal in common."
Pulling the last of the stacked boxes down to make all possible items accessible and bending to root around in the one just uncovered, Emma looks up at the brunette curiously before comprehension dawns on her in the form of a knowing grin.
"Well, someone walking in on you half-naked can lead to a beautiful friendship, Madame Mayor."
"... I see... And was there any particular reason for you to be in such a state, or is this just something one should know to expect from you, Miss Swan?"
"Oh, quit it. She came by the station after you locked me in the cell... And anyway, I was wrapped in a blanket, it's not like she saw anything."
Emma sighs, and a smirk finds the brunette's lips as things suddenly begin making sense. Letting go of any further irritation - while firmly refusing to consider its cause - she rests her hand on the crouched Sheriff's shoulder as she joins her in surveying the bombsight of her wardrobe.
"Ah, so it was Miss Lucas that sprung our heroine from her cruel prison?"
"It was, and fortunately for me, Ruby knows how to let things go."
The blonde mutters, and Regina flicks the blonde's shoulder sharply before placing her hands on her hips.
"I have no idea what you're referring to, Sheriff."
She insists. Emma rolls her eyes and lowers herself down so that she sits with her legs splayed out on the floor; waving her hand at the boxes lazily.
"Just find something, Regina. The pants will probably be a little big for you, but you'll just have to suck it up and deal."
The brunette plucks at the coarse denim distastefully. She can't recall the last time she wore jeans, and she hopes to keep it that way. Similarly, the Sheriff's tops are not at all to her taste; either too big or too small and none of them blessed with the knowledge of what an iron might be. Sighing, she gives one last glance towards the scarce items hung up in the blonde's closet and almost turns away before a flash of colour catches her eye.
"Pretty?"
She pulls the dress carefully from its hanger; holding it up in front of herself and raising an eyebrow at the blonde.
"Oh, I forgot about that one... Yeah, it's ok."
Emma's tone and the wrinkle to her nose suggest she thinks otherwise, and the Mayor imagines the fact that the garment she holds up is a girlish hot pink to be partially responsible for the younger woman's disdain.
"I have to say; not really your style, Sheriff..."
"It was for work."
"You wore this to work?"
"Yes. And before you go making any more hooker comments, I'm referring to bale-bonds work."
"So, basically, you would dress up as a woman of the night but get paid a higher rate for it?"
"Look, Regina, you can go home soggy and topless for all I care."
Emma sighs, and the brunette chuckles and lays the dress out on the blonde's bed. She smooths out the fabric appreciatively, marvelling at how the hue of the soft material is both sultry and yet misleadingly demure. Pulling at the open wings of her blouse, she shucks soft silk lightly from her svelte form and folds it to lie beside the dress. She catches Emma watching her intently and feels a dull blush creep over her chest; not body-shy in the slightest, but unaccustomed to being observed changing.
Unclasping her dress pants and allowing them to fall to the floor, she steps out of them gracefully and lays them on top of her blouse. She's begrudgingly aware of the fact that she's purposefully sucking in her stomach and clenching her ass cheeks, but she supposes that if she is going to be watched as she goes about undressing, she may as well put on a show the younger woman will really enjoy. Primping at her underwear unnecessarily, she takes a step towards the blonde; relishing in the way green eyes roam over her exposed flesh shamelessly.
"Do you have any stockings I can borrow?"
"Uh, probably..."
Emma delves into her lingerie box and the Mayor smirks at the way the blonde's gaze flickers up restlessly, as though unwilling to forgo the pleasure of drinking in her soft curves. Eventually, the Sheriff straightens up, holding out a pair of nylon hold-ups. Regina holds up the scant black hosiery doubtfully; the lace embellishing the tops and the visible seam running down the backs of them making the silky numbers in her hand impossible to imagine in any other scenario but sex.
"I meant more like-... Never mind."
She hands them back to the blonde, deciding that not only is she going to make sure she forces Emma into the pretty white summer dress hidden inside the depths of her wardrobe, but she plans to find out just how sheer those stockings are when stretched over alabaster flesh.
She pulls the dress on over her head, gliding the zipper up at her side before pulling the fabric properly into place. Fussing with her hair, she stalks over to the mirror that hangs adjacent to the blonde's bed and checks herself out. She catches the Sheriff's eye as she goes, offering her a salacious smile before regarding herself in the mirror.
Emma raises a brow as she takes in the delectable image the Mayor presents. The flushed coral hue of the dress compliments the brunette's skin tone beautifully, and the cut of the dress skims perfectly over soft thighs and full breasts.
Well, fuck me. I guess that dress isn't so bad after all...
"D-do-... Uh, do you need to borrow a jacket?"
The Sheriff cringes as she's forced to clear her throat mid-sentence. She tells herself it's her cold, but knows well enough otherwise. Regina turns to her and offers her a sly smirk, sooty eyelashes fluttering prettily.
"So long as it isn't leather, dear."
She nods, and Emma sighs exasperatedly but pulls a black, cropped jacket from her closet.
"I thought I said no leather?"
But the Mayor pulls the jacket on even as these words leave her mouth. She hasn't seen the blonde wear it before, and almost informs the younger woman of her mistake; the soft leather plush to the touch and the cut undeniably flattering. Instead, she simply pulls at the collar to straighten it out and waits patiently as the blonde's gaze lingers favourably on her.
"So? Do I pull off sarcastic, grouchy delinquent as well as you do?"
She asks, and Emma rolls her eyes but takes a step towards the brunette as she continues her observation of the darker woman's tempting form.
"No... But then I've had years of practice."