Just drink it. It doesn't matter that it tastes terrible, just drink it anyway. It's good that it tastes terrible. Focus on that. Focus on anything. Just not-...
The Mayor glances at the telephone resting on the edge of her desk. She feels her fingers twitch instinctively but keeps herself firmly under control. She's tired, having been failed by the sandman after returning home last night, and her head pounds miserably. She has spent the past two hours since entering her office this morning battling the urge to ring the station.
To see if there's still an answer.
It was foolish to leave the end so messy and unpredictable. To torture myself with the uncertainty of when and where. I should have served it to her myself.
She pushes such thoughts away; berating herself for letting them plague her the way they have all morning. She is proud, but she is also wise to her own mind, and she knows witnessing the blonde crash was never an option. At least, not since finding the younger woman sat patiently in her drawing room before asking her to dance.
Magic may not work the same here... She may suffer... It may not work at all... She may-... Well, she may-...
No. The blonde won't die. Can't die. The Curse must remain.
She sighs; her morbid thoughts completing their dizzying circle as she ponders, not for the first time, who will find the Sheriff. She has purposely organised for Henry to have a session with Archie this afternoon, taking every caution to keep the boy from straying towards the station at any point today. She imagines it will most likely be the little tramp from the diner, and this suits her fine. Ruby may be insufferably useless, but she will eventually call upon the right people. Many people. Enough to create confusion and displace blame.
"Do my eyes deceive me, or are you drinking a hot chocolate?"
A voice causes her to jump in her seat, and the Mayor glances up, startled, before her lip curls into a snarl.
"What are you doing here?"
She demands as Gold limps into the room, his cane thumping out a dull beat upon the floor, before he takes a seat opposite the brunette, paying her murderous scowl no mind.
"Just a wee visit. You mentioned you wished to purchase a piece of land when we spoke a few weeks ago, but I haven't heard anything more about it since. Is this still of interest?"
"No."
"Curious... I wonder what changed your mind? Care to elaborate?"
"No."
"What's eating you, dearie?"
Dark eyes glitter keenly at the Mayor from sunken sockets, the golden glint of the pawnbroker's upper incisor sparkling at her odiously as Gold offers an insincere smile of concern. The brunette regards him stoically for as long as she can bear before her rage finally gets the better of her and she slams her hand down on the desk - her cup rattling in its saucer - and leans forward to hiss at the little man venomously.
"You little snake... You've been working against me. You told me this was a race, but you've been going behind my back!"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Emma! Miss Swan! You've been helping her with legal advice to take away my son! I have long since learned to expect such low, conniving, traitorous behaviour from you, but to hand her the papers she needs without so much as a word... What's in it for you?"
"Hm... She did read them, then... Curious."
"What?"
Regina glares at her unwelcome guest angrily, a vein standing out beneath the smooth skin on her forehead. Gold leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers beneath his chin, regarding the brunette with casual intrigue. Raising a brow, he simply repeats himself.
"Curious."
"What is!?"
"That she would go straight to you. That she would fight her own battle... Foolish. But curious."
"Come straight to me?"
"Indeed. I'd come to the assumption that Miss Swan had either neglected to do her job and process my legal papers - something which would have hardly rendered me surprised - or that she'd found herself uncertain over whether she was ready to proceed at this point... I had imagined she would come barreling into my office in that ever-chaotic way of hers and demand to know more the second she saw those documents... I merely find her chosen course of action to be curious."
Gold shrugs, and Regina swallows - what little moisture that remains in her mouth tasting hatefully like copper - and moves her hands to rest in her lap; not wanting the pawnbroker to notice their sudden trembling.
"She didn't-... She didn't ask you for them?"
"Not in so many words, but then, Miss Swan is hardly the most eloquent person at the best of times. Upon deciding to stay in town, she suggested she was looking for advice. Some sort of aid to help her in taking Henry away from what she considered to be an unhealthy environment... I believe it was just after that small fire of which we sadly still don't know the cause. Naturally, I processed her desire and saved it for a rainy day. And now, I need help with a couple of claims relating to the storm, as well as some information about our new visitor. Hence, I'd hoped she'd come to me directly, allowing me to cash in a favour. I would never expect something for nothing."
"You... Why?!"
"Simple. I wanted something."
"Oh my god..."
"Are you alright, dearie? You're looking rather pale."
"You planted those papers where you knew I would see them!"
"How could I possibly know you would find yourself snooping through her things?... You mean she didn't approach you about them?"
"Of course not! You-... I don't know how, but you did! You planned this! You want to break The C-... You want her gone!"
Gold studies the Mayor with a small sense of alarm as the brunette loses all sense of poise and simply screams this last part.
"... Regina, what did you do?"
"Get out! Now!"
"What have you done?"
"Now!"
The pawnbroker frowns, before taking his leave; his mind churning as he endeavours to process the stilted information he has received. Glancing back at the Mayor, he sees her reach for the phone on her desk with shaking hands.
Curious.
"No!"
The brunette slams the phone back in its cradle after a minute of uninterrupted ringing.
No answer at the station.
Pulling her cell from her pocket, she scrolls shakily through her contact list; her fingers refusing to work as she wills them to. Finally, she manages to find the blonde's personal number and holds her breath as it rings once. Twice. Three times.
"Hello-"
"-Emma! Oh, thank goodness! I need you to listen to me! I need you to do something-"
"-You've reached Emma Swan, leave a message and number and I'll get back to you when I can."
A quiet beep and then silence as the answering machine records the brunette's disbelief. The Mayor simply stares at the phone in her hand; mouth open and eyes wide.
Finally breaking herself from her frozen state, she snatches her car keys from the table and hurries out of the office, not bothering to lock the door behind her.