Regina hesitates for a moment; unaccustomed to finding the door to the Sheriff's office to be closed. She glances at her watch. Seven-twenty. She supposes the blonde could have left and gone home, but she doubts it; that would make things too easy. If Emma is nowhere to be found, she can come back tomorrow. She can put this off.
To what purpose, other than to drive yourself mad?
Pulling herself together, she squares her shoulders and raps lightly on the door before peering inside.
"Sorry, station's closed, you'll have to-... Oh, it's you!"
Emma smiles as she looks up at the door, and the brunette falters before forcing a perfectly believable smile as she inwardly forbids herself to dwell on the way the younger woman's expression softens into a grin upon realising who her visitor is.
Almost as though she's genuinely pleased to see her.
Well, why wouldn't she be? So far as she's concerned, I'm none the wiser to her little undercover operation. It would be foolish to believe myself to be the only one capable of putting on a pleasant face, that much I've already learned.
"It's me. Burning the midnight oil?"
"More like early evening oil. Fuck me if I'm staying here until midnight!"
The blonde offers her a wide grin as if daring the Mayor to take her up on her offer. Regina raises a brow and shoots Emma a small smirk before letting herself into the office and taking a seat opposite the Sheriff.
"Have you had dinner? Do you want some?"
Emma holds out half of her sandwich, and the brunette wrinkles her nose. Reading the darker woman's expression easily, the Sheriff chuckles with a carefree shrug and takes a bite herself.
"Actually, dear, I came to bring you dessert..."
Regina confides, and she smirks when the blonde chokes on her mouthful of peanut butter and jelly; telling herself her amusement is simply disdain rather than genial humour.
"Is there a problem, Miss Swan?"
"Apart from being fairly sure I now have a chunk of bread down my windpipe, not at all!"
The Sheriff blinks tears from her eyes and offers the Mayor a strained smile which dissipates into laughter once she trusts her respiratory system to behave itself.
The brunette looks away; Emma's uninhibited laughter is something she has only seen on a couple of occasions, and, given the way things have turned out, it's something she doesn't want to get hooked on.
Because getting hooked on that husky, companionable sound and the way she shakes with it seems dangerously easy.
"Should I be flattered or offended by your rather manic reaction?
She asks, returning to the topic at hand.
"Sorry! I guess that's up to you... I'd say flattered. But I'm curious to know what my punishment would have been if you'd felt offended..."
The blonde smirks.
Oh, if you only knew what punishment you have in store... How can you be so glib? So easy-going? Have you no sense of guilt at all? No conscience?
"Hmm... Well, let's see..."
The Mayor pushes herself up slowly; leaning as far as she can across the desk while reaching for the collar of the blonde's shirt. Pulling her roughly so that she meets her halfway, she presses her lips hard against Emma's, meanwhile increasing the power with which she tugs at her shirt until, eventually, the younger woman gets the hint and climbs up onto the table, kneeling atop its surface. Regina lets her hands fall from the blonde's lapels down to her ass and pulls her closer still.
This is a mistake. Just give her the pie and leave the bitch to rot.
"Get on the bed."
She points to the cot in the cell; the very same on which she had caused the younger woman so much anguish what seems like forever ago. Emma raises a brow but does as she's told; walking over to the bed and sitting expectantly down on its edge, her face upturned curiously to the Mayor who follows her.
"Get on your back."
"Why?"
Regina doesn't offer an answer but merely waits as the Sheriff gives a casual shrug and moves so that she lies prone on the rough cotton spread. She regards the blonde with clinical interest, appreciating the gentle curves of the lean frame she knows hides beneath cheap clothes, but she refuses to acknowledge any of the warmth she's found when spending time with Emma over the past couple of weeks.
Almost refuses.
There's no doubt in my mind that I'm making the right decision... And with that in mind; this is the end. There is no beauty in death, that part of the fairytale is nothing but a lie. There will be no glass coffin. So let there be beauty while it's still possible... Until the end.
Lowering herself so that she straddles the Sheriff, she begins to undo the buttons on her shirt. Emma moves to give her a hand, but the Mayor shakes her head and pushes the blonde's fingers gently away. She doesn't speak - doesn't explain what she wants - so the younger woman rests her hands patiently down by her sides and simply waits.
Regina is slow and methodical in her work; stopping every now and then to press her mouth to a familiar freckle or bone. She traces the crude scar that runs the Sheriff's midsection with her finger but ignores the silver lines at her sides cautiously.
She is not his mother. Blood means nothing.
When she finally has the blonde completely naked - rising from the bed to pull the last scrap of cotton down slim legs - she stands back and lets her attention roam; musing bitterly that she could conjure a perfect image of the younger woman should she close her eyes, and hating the fact.
"Regina?"
Emma interrupts her train of thought. She glances down into wide eyes and smiles. Holding the Sheriff's gaze, she strips off her own finely-tailored ensemble so that she stands just as bare as the woman in front of her. Closing her eyes, she lowers herself back down onto the cot - back onto the blonde - and stretches herself out carefully so that her slim frame shrouds Emma's. She runs her tongue teasingly down the column of the Sheriff's throat before resting her jaw comfortably in the hollow of the blonde's shoulder; breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.
Emma fidgets restlessly; unsure of what's expected of her. She tries to wiggle her thigh to nestle between the brunette's to offer the darker woman a touch of friction, but with the way the Mayor remains so calm and still, she soon desists. This isn't about sex it would seem.
Regina is unsure how long they stay that way - sharing breath and body heat - but she imagines there might be some clue in the dull cramp that pulses in her legs when she finally rolls off of the blonde. Bending her head to cast a shadow across the younger woman's face, she captures the Sheriff's lips softly and offers her a kiss which she only breaks when it threatens to turn salty with the traitorous tear she feels rolling down her cheek.
Pulling away she swipes the droplet swiftly from her skin and captures the younger woman's gaze one final time.
"You deserve it."
"Deserve what?"
Emma asks curiously, her lips pulling back into a lazy smile. The brunette simply nods her head, offering no further explanation, and makes her way to the door, turning as she reaches the threshold to see the younger woman collecting her clothes.
"Don't forget your sock under the bed, there... I've left you an apple pie in the fridge in the back."
"Really? Cool, thanks! Night, Regina."
"... Goodbye, Miss Swan."