When the brunette awakens, the bed is warm, and the over-laundered cotton feels inexplicably good against her bare flesh. She flutters her lashes open slowly, a smile already finding her full lips, presuming that the Sheriff will still be deep in slumber beside her, what with it still being before 8AM.
As it is, she's met with nothing but the vacant expanse of a rather rumpled top sheet, and the heavy folds of the pushed-back throw. Frowning, she rolls over onto her back and pushes herself up onto her elbows to find the younger woman casting an eerily pale figure between the bed and the door; her stance inexplicably combative.
"Emma?"
She frowns, wondering just what had roused the blonde and herself in the first place, before she catches the low murmur of voices that has presumably lent the Sheriff her wary expression.
"Emma! Come on! You need to talk to me! Please!... Just open the door...You cant-"
"-Son, she's not in there."
"How do you know?"
"Because she's in here..."
And then, footsteps sound towards their door at an alarming pace, and the blonde throws the Queen a look of utter panic before two things happen:
The door swings open in spite of its need for a room key to gain entry.
And Emma finds herself swiftly engulfed in a purple haze before she stands, frozen in shock, clad in jeans and a t-shirt.
"Emma?"
Bae greets nervously, and the Sheriff turns around to face him with her teeth bared; the brunet and the pawnbroker standing in the doorway.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"
She demands, and Regina slips from beneath the covers - suddenly clad in clothes similar to those she had worn the night before - to stand behind her; eying Gold caustically.
"You had no right to do that, Rumple..."
She hisses.
"It was rude, I apologise. Fortunately, I didn't interrupt anything."
Gold muses silkily, receiving a poisonous glower from the two women and a confused frown from his son.
"That said, I permitted you space and time to come to terms with the curious fact that there exists a previous relationship between the two of you, Sheriff... Your continued absence and refusal to at least pretend to be civil is rude also."
"I-"
"-Emma, please... This is all crazy, I know that. And I know that you're angry with me, and you have every right to be, but please... Just give me a couple of hours... That's all I ask. Just let me explain why I did what I did."
Bae interrupts, his dark eyes wide and pleading, and the blonde hates herself as a lost, younger part of her psyche melts and ripples with desperate joy; a voice dusty with lack of use crying out 'He's back! He came back for you! It's going to be okay now! You're loved! You're safe! You're neede-'
"-I shouldn't give you that right."
She interrupts foolish glee coldly.
"Not after all this time, but I will... You can explain why you did what you did. You can tell me what was so fucking important. You know, I almost-... No. We're not doing this now... If you want to spin me a story, then you can buy me a drink... But we talk alone. Not in front of him."
She points at Gold, who raises his palms with an expression that suggests he finds the Sheriff's harsh tone pathetically droll.
Regina takes a step forward so that she stands directly behind Emma and addresses the little man with a stern warning
"You and I need to discuss a few matters, also."
"Oh? Now, why doesn't that surprise me? You know, I do believe young Emma expressed the wish that you stop jumping to her-"
"-This has nothing to do with young Emma. This has to do with the intricacies of what you've done. I have questions for you, and you will answer them."
"Oh my! Such power! Tell me, Sheriff, is this one of your turn-ons? Do you get Madame Mayor to order you to-"
"-Get out."
The blonde hisses with a flash of teeth that speaks of murder. Again, Bae studies her with a confused frown just about bordering on comprehension, and she supposes that this at least answers the question of how in-depth Gold's explanation of the current situation has been. Pulling herself up to her full height, she steps up to the pawnbroker and stares him down with a snarl.
"You and I are through, Gold. I've done what you wanted me to... Now make good on your own word, and leave Regina and I be. We have no further business, you and I.
Behind her, Regina thins her lips as she wonders just how true this might be once Gold learns of Henry's paternity.
The little man himself simply bows in a way that is almost insulting before regarding the Sheriff pensively.
"And just how do you plan to get home, Miss Swan, if you and I are to avoid each other as you so desire."
Raising a brow, the blonde offers Gold a thin-lipped smile in response to his challenge.
"Public transport?"
Her reply is dripping with sweet honey, and the pawnbroker finds his eyes flashing to the scars that circle the Sheriff's wrists before wetting his lips and holding her cool gaze with his dark one.
"I see. Well, in that case, I offer you a parting note of gratitude... You did well, dearie."
Holding out his hand with a wry smile, Emma looks down at the proffered appendage icily before tossing back her hair and gripping it with her own; a small smirk crossing irritable features as she allows him to shake it.
"I always do."
She replies, and, while neither of them is aware of their symmetry in the incident; Regina and Bae both cock a brow at her response.
Glancing over at Neal who stands watching her a little too intently for her liking, the Sheriff snaps at him
"If you want to talk, I'm going to want to drink, and I doubt you want to do that at half seven in the morning. Gold has my number. Text me where you want to meet. Twelve o'clock. Don't fuck up."
Bae recoils slightly, having learnt hard and fast over the last twenty-four hours that the blonde has changed, but he would never have believed that she would have become as glacially cold as she appears to be now, while the little man beside him chuckles mirthfully.
"Ah, young love... So be it. Miss Swan. Your Majesty. Good day to you both for now."
He takes his leave, beckoning for his son to join him, before turning his jaw to speak over his shoulder with cruel humour
"Oh, and, loving the ensemble, Sheriff... Most enjoyable."
Before closing the door behind him.
Emma frowns, running a hand through her hair before looking down at herself irritably. Without the adrenaline of the two men encroaching on her space, she notes that she doesn't recognise the soft cotton that clings to her frame at all, as well as imagining she has a fairly good idea as to the cause of Gold's glee, and she turns to the brunette with a sigh.
"Really?"
Regina shrugs, not knowing whether to laugh or give in to the red anger quick to make itself known as she notes what she has let the others in on.
"Sorry, dear, I worked with the time I had. Magic doesn't work in the way where I could have just swept your clothes off the floor and dressed you..."
She explains, while inwardly breathing a belated sigh of relief that their actual discarded garments lie on the other side of the bed; ruined lace and silk mercifully hidden from view.
"I had to conjure something from my imagination."
She elaborates primly, and Emma raises a brow at this explanation, plucking at the thin t-shirt that clings to her unforgivingly; allowing a generous strip of midriff to peak out over the top of curious, indigo jeans.
"And in your imagination... I don't wear underwear?"
She challenges, placing her hands on her hips and looking down pointedly.
"Usually? No... But I assure you this was simply a case of having to work quickly."
"Hmm. Well, I suppose I can't get too mad... Thanks."
"Not a problem... And it's not as though Baelfire hasn't seen such sights for himself..."
The note of irritation in the darker woman's tone is tangible, and the Sheriff swiftly bites back her instinctive catty inclination to ask the Mayor if she might be jealous.
It's a wasted question.
She knows she is.
Instead, she replies without a hint of humour
"A long time ago. And he won't be seeing them again."
Regina sighs moodily, before offering a kinder smile.
"I know."
"Mhmm... You, however..."
"What about me?"
"Well..."
The blonde muses; plucking at the hem of tight cotton and shucking it over her head.
"You can see such things whenever you want... And we still have- hmm... Four and a half hours to spare."
"Is that so...?"