"Are you alright, dear?"
Regina inquires with a smirk as she waits outside the bathroom door.
"Fabulous..."
Comes the disgruntled reply as the sound of running water replaces weak coughing. Finally, the Sheriff emerges back into the bedroom; pale and a little shaky.
"I do not like that shit!"
Emma grumbles, and Regina chuckles rather unsympathetically; dark eyes shining with amusement as she watches the blonde take a seat at the foot of the bed.
"The pretty green tinge to your complexion somewhat gives that fact away."
She muses, and the younger woman shoots her a poisonous look, before sighing and adopting a grin of her own.
"Oh, well. I guess I can still beat the vast majority of people out there in the fact that I've apparated twice now."
"I beg your pardon?"
"It's like wizardy teleportation."
"I see."
The Mayor sighs with a roll of her eyes; having been force-fed more titbits concerning a group of fictitious, misfit teenagers and their inane 'magical' dilemmas in the week since the Curse has broken than she feels she perhaps deserves. She's brought back from her irritable thoughts when Emma cocks her head to the side and addresses her curiously
"How come you didn't just teleport us all the way from New York? It would have saved so much time."
"Because, what I successfully manage is not 'teleportation', nor any other such fanciful delusion from one of your mindless science-fiction novels."
"Right... It's magic."
"Are you mocking me?"
"Only a lot."
"Hmm."
The brunette offers with an arrogant sniff as she goes about putting away her things. Boring of grinning smugly, Emma toes off her boots and folds her legs up beneath her on the bed; watching the Queen thoughtfully.
"Mocking aside, I was actually interested... How come you can magic us from outside the town line, but not from New York?"
Beginning to think Regina is genuinely offended when the darker woman fails to look up or offer her an answer, she shifts her weight awkwardly on the mattress, but when the Mayor moves to hang up her jacket in one of the built-in wardrobes that line the far wall, she speaks softly.
"Displace us."
"Huh?"
"It's the term most frequently used back in the Enchanted Forest. I 'displace' us, not 'magic' us."
"Oh."
"And it's not that I couldn't have done it from New York, but simply that I shouldn't have... Magic requires years of study if one wishes to master it, and-"
"-and it always comes with a price."
Emma finishes for her; having learnt this lesson, and then some.
"Well, yes, that too."
The brunette agrees with a fond smirk, before turning around to face the Sheriff and elaborating on her meaning.
"But, what I was going to say, is that it can be elusive even when it has been mastered. There are two reasons it would have been foolish for me to attempt to displace us from New York, even though I'm sure I would have managed just fine. The first is my lack of knowledge of the geography of this world... It's difficult for me to comprehend the distance and power needed when I have little clue where I'm going. It was fairly straightforward to have us end up here when working from just outside the town line where the bus stopped, as I more or less understand the lay of the land in the surrounding area."
"You can't just visualise the place you want to end up?"
"No. An image or understanding of the desired destination is part of it, but magic is a little more complicated than simply closing your eyes and making a wish, and this is especially true when one has to accommodate for additional factors."
"What do you mean?"
"You. You're my second reason. For me to take you with me is both risky and challenging. Inanimate objects pose less of a problem - clothes and possessions merely bend to the will of the one commanding them; they have no aura - but when trying to travel with a companion, you need to allow for their power as well as your own."
"My power?"
The younger woman asks with a look of surprise, and Regina smiles as she shuts the closet door and regards the blonde pensively.
"Indeed. Everyone has a certain amount of power, dear. It's not something that lies dormant - you either possess the ability to nurture it and utilise it, or you don't - it's simply apparent in any born of that other world in the form of what most practitioners call a glimmer... Well... That's what I thought to be the case, anyway."
"Okay?"
"It's strange... You're strange."
"Yes, you've told me you think so plenty of times, thanks."
"Your glimmer is different."
"Oh good! Yet more magical mayhem for the Saviour!"
"Oh, please, you don't need some fancy title awarded to you by Gold to incur mayhem, Miss Swan. I imagine you're more than capable of achieving any variety of chaos all by yourself... And I didn't say it was a bad thing. Simply that it's strange. I felt it when I took you with me back in Gold's apartment, and I felt it now... It's as though your glimmer is curiously intense. It's... Well, it's almost as though your power is simply lying dormant... Such an idea is absurd, fear not, you simply pose as an inconvenient travelling companion. I imagine that's what's caused you to feel nauseous each time, and I will admit, I have felt a little delicate as a result myself. It's not a common side-effect, but the mixture of different breeds of power doesn't always make for a harmonious occurrence. It can play unpleasant games with one's senses."
"And stomach."
Emma grumbles, but the Mayor concludes that she looks suitably impressed by her explanation and feels momentarily a little flushed.
"So it seems."
She agrees, before her attention falls on the Sheriff's bag; the worn fabric bulging slightly due to the fact it contains everything the blonde had brought with them. Emma follows her gaze and nibbles her lip shyly.
"I don't know when you meant you wanted me to like... You know... Stay here and stuff."
"Well, I imagine that's up to you, dear. So far as I've seen, the majority of your possessions remain conveniently boxed up, and unless you've been storing the excess cunningly away, they will fit with little trouble in the wardrobes and cupboards."
"No, that's all of it... Well, and some books."
"I keep mine in the drawing room as you've seen, but if you have other ideas, such things can be discussed."
Regina states, and Emma smiles and shrugs.
"I'm not fussy."
"No... No, dear, you are many things, but I agree in that respect, you aren't fussy, and I'd hazard a guess that this is a good thing when it comes to the two of us... So yes, just tell me what you want to do. I had said that you were welcome to spend Christmas with Henry and me, but if you would prefer to spend it with your parents, I would understand. Just don't get any fanciful ideas of combining the two."
The Queen warns, and the blonde chuckles and moves a little further back on the bed, playing with a section of her hair idly through her fingers.
"Don't worry. I may be a ravishingly wise fool, Your Majesty, but I bet you'd agree with me when I say I'm not a romantic. I hadn't planned on requesting to play mediator between you and my mom. Not counting a bottle of Wild Turkey, some festive tootsie rolls, and a pair of expertly hand-crafted paper crowns donned while huddled in a car with a busted air vent, this will be the first time I've properly acknowledged the holidays. I can think of better ways to spend them than ducked under a table as you and Snow White chew each other out... I joke about it, Regina, but I do know it's hard for you that you have to see my parents every day."
"Well... I brought them over here..."
Regina sniffs, but she's privately thankful the subject has been acknowledged.
"True. When you wanted them to suffer. It wasn't because you fancied them to be excellent neighbours... But, to answer your question, I, uh-... Well, I guess I'd like to accept your invitation. I feel a little guilty, but-"
"-You should do what you want to do, Emma."
"I know, and I am... It's just that Snow White is also Mary Margaret, and I never got much time after everything went crazy to explain things to her. Until I went missing, she had no clue I was into you... She's been good to me, Regina, ever since I got here, and I feel like maybe she won't understand... She should, I mean, even Neal brought up the fact that there's little room for argument in the face of True Love, but I just feel like deep down we're still just Mary Margaret and Emma, and, while I can't feel guilty for being a bad daughter - I just can't - I do feel bad for not always being the nicest friend."
Emma confides. The darker woman nods in understanding and sighs, before raising a brow in surprise when the blonde chuckles quietly and speaks with a little more humour.
"It's still quite a simple choice to make, though..."
"I'm flattered."
"Oh, so you should be, but before you let your ego get too out of control, I will also raise the point that all guilt and empathy aside, I'm still me - still Emma - and the thought of a sickeningly perfect Christmas dinner while watching Snow White and Prince Charming suck face is just about enough to send me running back to the bathroom."
Regina laughs richly at this before stalking a little closer to the bed, staring the Sheriff down dangerously.
"Are you implying you have doubts as to the perfection of my Christmas dinner?"
She demands, and the blonde flashes her tongue between her teeth.
"I wouldn't dare! I just don't foresee festive sweaters and a round of carols in my future with you."
"You sound so sure..."
Regina muses silkily, watching as the younger woman's grin falters ever so slightly, and she smirks victoriously while shaking her head.
"No, dear, I believe in that respect, you're safe. I may enjoy a little well-meaning abuse and torment, but I imagine suffering through your rendition of carol singing would be a punishment unto myself, also."
"Hey!"
"Just an inkling."
Emma rolls her eyes dramatically, and the brunette closes the distance and perches on the end of the bed, studying her seriously.
"So, alright, you're going to spend Christmas with Henry and I. What about the next three days?"
"Do I have to decide now?"
The blonde frowns, and the Mayor offers her a stern look before sighing wearily. Batting the Sheriff's hands away as they braid a section of her hair, she demands her full attention.
"You can't always wait for tomorrow, Emma. I've expressed that your decisions are your own, and while it makes little difference to me whether you move in now or at a later date, I imagine it will make quite a difference to your mood if you have the inevitability of that particular discussion with Mary Margaret hanging over you. And, as much as I'm sure the resultant sex would be sublime, I really don't fancy dealing with you the rest of the time as you fret over such things."
"I'm going to have to tell her, aren't I..."
"Well yes, I imagine she will eventually clue in on your absence, dearest."
"Crap."
Emma sighs, and Regina smirks, leaning forward to gently unravel the messy braid so recently woven into golden tresses.
"I suggest you two - three, if you count the oaf - sit down and chat when we go and collect Henry."
"We?"
"Oh, I'm just coming along to pick up my son, don't get ideas."
"Right. So while I have the discussion from hell with the Charmings, you and Henry get to frolic back home laughing. I'm your girlfriend, I thought you were supposed to be all empathetic about that kind of shit?"
"Yes, and my thoughts will be with you as I cook a splendid meal and enjoy it with my son in your absence."
Full lips spread wide as glittering green simmers incredulously. Pushing against the younger woman's shoulders to back her down onto the mattress, the Mayor's smirk evolves into a seductive smile as she moves up the bed so that she bears down on the blonde; regarding her with fiery coals.
"And what did you just call yourself?"
The playful fury shining up at her darkens lustfully, and Regina shakes her head when the Sheriff purposefully clamps her mouth shut with a telling pull to her lips.
"No, no, you're not getting off that easy, princess... Say it."
She demands; her hand disappearing beneath the warmth of the younger woman's sweater. Emma shakes her head, only just able to hide an impish grin, and the darker woman scrapes her teeth warningly over the vulnerable tendons of her neck.
"Say it, Emma..."
"I'm your girlfriend."
The blonde replies huskily, running her nails over the soft material of the Queen's shirt with moderate force. Regina rewards her obedience wetly; breath coming a little heavier for both of them as their hands begin to explore and their need begins to rise.
"Correct. You are. Now let's explore why... Then tomorrow, you can go and talk to the two idiots. You're mine, and mine alone for what's left of the night."
"Ugh, seriously?! You had to go and bring my parents up again? Way to ruin the mood, Madame Mayor..."
The Sheriff grumbles as the darker woman busies herself tasting the flesh she has just uncovered by shucking up the dark fabric of her sweater. Regina chuckles into the smooth dip between stacked ribs, before sitting up to study the younger woman humorously.
"My apologies, dear. Let me fix it."
A swift sweep of her hand, and the candles that rest atop the twin bedside tables and those that line the windowsill flicker cosily to life; casting distorted shapes and shadows onto the walls. A second small movement and the overhead light is extinguished; leaving them bathed in a warm, golden glow that highlights the brunette's lustful smirk dangerously. Emma's resultant intake of breath casts a shadow down her lithe frame, and the Queen drinks in illuminated flesh hungrily, moving her hands to rest over the button of the blonde's jeans.
"Better?"
"Hmm..."
Emma offers noncommittally, and the Mayor sighs causing the blonde to smile and pull her back down; momentarily sweet as she plays her fingers gently through dark tresses and murmurs in the Queen's ear
"Much better... You always make things much better..."
Before she slips a hand down between them and slides her fingers between hot flesh and expensive wool.
"Again... Tease..."
Regina admonishes as she spreads her legs to sit splayed across the younger woman's hips, allowing pale fingers easier access to the wetness she can already feel pooling inside soft silk.
"It's not teasing when you know full well you can have exactly what you want, any way you want it..."
The blonde disagrees, and the Queen's breath catches in her throat as she raises a brow and regards the woman lying beneath her intently.
"... What did you say?"
"You heard me."
"Say it again..."
"No. Tell me what you want."
Emma counters. The brunette bites her lip as she stares down at the lazy smirk forever hiding at the corners of the younger woman's mouth and circles her hips while running a finger over the lace centre of the latter's bra and down the bare skin of her abdomen.
"I just did."
"True, but why? Why do you need me to tell you you can have whatever you want from me - do whatever you want to me - when you know that already? I mean, you do know... Don't you?"
The blonde raises a brow curiously, and Regina swallows, striving to keep her voice level; to maintain control.
"Of course I do. I could make you do whatever I wanted; I have magic."
"I'm not talking about magic..."
Comes the low response, and the Mayor stills, her finger coming to rest in the divot of the blonde's navel.
"... I see."
Regarding the Queen with an unreadable expression, Emma remains momentarily silent, before slowly raising her arms and holding them up behind her head with her wrists pressed against the bedposts.
"Do it... I know you can conjure them..."
She whispers, and Regina frowns, perplexed, and shakes her head.
"Conjure what?"
"Cuffs... Handcuffs... Do it..."
The younger woman instructs with a slight waver to her words, which are followed by a heavy silence as the brunette studies her intensely.
Finally, after holding the blonde hostage for what seems like minutes with her dark stare, Regina lifts her hand and makes a slow movement with her fingers.
"What are you doing?"
Emma asks with a frown, looking up to observe soft, purple silk winding its way slowly around her wrists to bind her submissively to the bed frame. The darker woman maintains her silence a moment longer, before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on confused-parted lips.
"I'm not cuffing you to the bed, Emma. Not now, not ever."
"But, I said you could have whatever you wanted..."
"I know, but why would I want such a thing?"
"Well, I just thought-... I mean, before, in your study..."
"That was different."
"Well, yeah, I know, but you enjoyed it... Didn't you?"
Arched brows furrow uncertainly, and the Mayor runs her palm softly through tousled curls to cup the younger woman's cheek.
"I did, but I didn't know you then like I do now... Emma, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do... I would have hoped you'd know that by now."
"Well, yeah, I just thought-... I was trying to show you that I'd give you whatever you wanted... I mean... I know you'll never actually hurt me - not in a bad way - so I just-... This is sex, so..."
To the blonde's surprise, Regina laughs gently in the face of her confusion; shaking her head so that her dark hair catches the candlelight.
"This is sex, yes... But I'm not going to hurt you."
Leaning forward - letting out a pleasured sigh as this shift of her weight presses her core deliciously against the Sheriff - the brunette works her fingers between Emma's compliantly limp ones; grasping the younger woman's hands and bearing down heavily so that her hair spills down and her features loom dominantly over the blonde's pale face.
"Not like that, anyway... But, do you want me to?... Hurt you, I mean?"
"If you want to."
The Sheriff replies, and Regina smirks, before licking her lips.
"You're being coy... Still, you seem to like it when I bite you... When things get a little rough... You enjoy the pain?"
"... Yes."
"Why?"
"You feed off of it... I like that."
"How so?"
"Because I'm yours... Before, I liked it because there was this subtext of hate and anger to our relationship and it turned me on, just like it turned you on to inflict it... Now, it's-... It's because I'm yours... You do it because you like my reaction to it, and the power it gives you over me..."
"I'd never have taken you for a submissive, Miss Swan... Or, rather, I'd not have foreseen you admitting to it."
"There's a difference between masochism and submission... But for you, I'd offer up both."
"You would? After all that you know; who I was. What I did... You'd give me such power? Complete power?"
"It's never complete. The masochist bullies the sadist into action."
"An interesting take... You think I'm a sadist?"
"I think you like it when I squirm."
"... True."
Regina nods; eyes glittering predatorily in the candlelight. Removing her fingers from the blonde's, she sits back and studies her with a slow smile, running her tongue thoughtfully over her bottom lip before seeming to come to a decision; her tone suddenly rich and dangerous, free from any uncertainty.
"True, dear. I enjoy it immensely."
And with that, she moves gracefully down the younger woman's slender frame, so that she straddles her thighs rather than her hips and makes a brisk downwards motion with her hand; full lips spreading to show perfect teeth as the Sheriff lets out a surprised yelp and pulls involuntarily against her restraints.
"... But I don't need handcuffs to watch you do so..."
The Queen purrs as she plucks away the perfectly slit fabric of the blonde's bra and traces the hair-thin graze leading down to the brass button of her jeans. Raising her gaze to find Emma's own, she shares the Sheriff's sinful smile as she undoes rough denim and drags down the stiff zipper deliberately slowly.
"And I'm only doing it because I love you, and I know that you want me to."
She confides firmly, revealing scant lace.
"I know... It's a good thing I know you want to do it, too..."
The younger woman replies breathlessly, and Regina laughs softly, leaning down and claiming a slow, experimental kiss. She runs her hand blindly over the soft flesh exposed beneath her - scratching and kneading here and there - as the blonde begins to move restlessly; her hands flexing and closing to better feel the pull of the purposefully soft silk.
Gauging the swift increase of heady arousal that cloaks the room, the brunette smiles as she nips at the Sheriff's tongue, before pushing herself back up. She knows that the possibilities are close to endless given her power, and she imagines that with time, there will be a great deal of experimentation undertaken in this respect. The thought causes her to shiver with great anticipation, but for now, she decides she's done with using magic to play with the blonde. So far, save for the demonstration of her power following her explanation of how things went the way that they did, their exploits before today have been natural.
Real.
Raw.
And this has suited each of them just fine.
As such, she gives a final, firm drag of her palm between pert breasts, before leaning to her side and plucking one of the flickering candlesticks carefully from the nightstand; cradling its holder in her hand. Catching the knowing glitter that finds green eyes, she takes her bottom lip between her teeth and moves so that she straddles the younger woman in such a way that one of the latter's thighs offers much-needed pressure to her need.
Holding the Sheriff's lust-blackened gaze, she raises the candle so that it's level with her own breasts; careful to allow enough distance between flame and flesh to avoid scalding the blonde.
Tipping it slowly, liquid red wax drops down to speckle the younger woman's sternum; the vibrancy fading ever so slightly as it hardens over sensitive flesh so startlingly pale by comparison.
Emma hisses quietly and closes her eyes. Regina watches her chest rise and fall with familiar, shallow breaths and steals a kiss; moving against the younger woman's thigh wantonly.
Lifting the candle once again, she repeats the process with heightened aim; letting out a low moan to match the Sheriff's as red wax dapples the latter's left breast.
Then the right.
Then the flat expanse of her stomach.
By now, the blonde's breathing is ragged and her fingers tremble slightly as she pulls against soft silk uselessly; her eyes all but black when she finally opens them to regard the Queen.
Regina returns her gaze from beneath hooded lids; her own cheeks flushed and her pulse racing as she feels her inner muscles clenching desperately with an almost nauseating sense of desire.
Her hand quivers as she dips the candle for the final time; watching as scarlet wax splatters down onto the bare flesh exposed between the wings of the younger woman's opened and lowered jeans.
The resultant noise Emma offers is purely guttural, and the Mayor lets out a harsh, shuddering breath before blowing out what remains of the candle and placing it frantically back on the nightstand; making an unsteady movement with her hand to release the younger woman instantly from her bonds.
Dark denim gets ripped ruthlessly the rest of the way down slim legs as expensive wool is rendered just as useless. Soft silk is wrenched open and ruined, as sodden lingerie gets pushed roughly aside.
Down below, the attention is frantic, needy, brutal, but through it all - until the Sheriff's hissed expletive echoes the brunette's muffled scream as she buries her teeth into the blonde's shoulder - hot breath is exchanged passionately as soft lips crash against one another.
Finally, they lie still; the darker woman lying on her side with her eyes and legs clamped shut as she rides out the euphoric tremors of aftershock, while Emma draws slow lines carefully across her back.
"I love you, too."
The Queen speaks up finally.
"Hmm?"
"That's what you're writing, no?"
In place of a verbal response, the Sheriff draws a large checkmark between the darker woman's shoulder blades, and Regina smiles as she feels herself begin to doze off as the remaining candles slowly burn down to darkness.