A/N: Enjoy! Review!
"Regina?"
Emma frowns, looking the darker woman up and down curiously.
"What, uh... What are you wearing?"
She asks, her attention falling to the exposed valley of the brunette's breasts and the tight fit of her pants, and she raises a brow and waits for an answer.
"Don't you like it?"
The darker woman challenges, smiling sinfully as she opens out her arms to allow the blonde a better study of her svelte form. The look of dubiety on the younger woman's face tickles her, but Emma denies her the stammered response she'd been hoping for and simply shrugs.
"It's certainly different."
The blonde teases, and dark eyes flash with momentary irritation as this glib statement in no way matches the generous sight she's been offered. Keeping her temper reigned in for the time being, the Queen watches as Emma perches on one of the gravestones that circle the vault, intrigued to be stood face-to-face with the product of her ruin while the younger woman appears to be none the wiser.
Hardly out of character...
She wonders if Emma simply believes she's injected a little more style than usual into her appearance, and, if so, whether the blonde imagines she might have done so on her account.
Either way, she supposes it's true to form that any spawn of two idiots responsible for the downfall of their entire kingdom might be a little slow on the uptake.
Not that it matters.
In fact, it makes this all much more fun. She-
"-Have you protected the vault already?"
Emma interrupts her train of thought, and the Queen smiles, wiggling her fingers coquettishly before touching the Mayor's enchantment; the air rippling visibly.
"Everything's safe and secure, dear."
She lies.
"Cool."
The blonde replies, drumming her fingers on pitted stone as she adjusts her rather inappropriate perch in an effort to get more comfortable.
The Queen takes a sly step closer, her fingers trembling as they course with her power, before halting in her tracks when Emma looks away and wrestles a packet of gum from the pocket of her jeans. The Sheriff holds it out expectantly and glances up when her offering goes ignored.
The look on the brunette's face is a strange one, and Emma opens her mouth to ask for an explanation, before smacking her fist into her thigh and rolling her eyes when she remembers.
"Right, of course. Cinnamon. Sorry."
She mutters, and the darker woman purses her lips as she remains momentarily thrown. Narrowing her eyes as Emma helps herself to a piece of gum and blows an ill-mannered bubble, she feels uncharacteristically unsure of the situation as the blonde confides lightly
"Hey, so you know I was telling you about the girl that works at the Rabbit Hole the other day?"
"... Mhmm?"
The Queen replies noncommittally, racking her brains, but ever since being split from her weaker-half, she is no longer plagued with the insipid musings of the others. She can't recall what Emma might have told her about some poor wretch mopping up after Storybrooke's drunkards, but the younger woman's casual tone unnerves her a little now that she's left only with her true thoughts and desires.
It is not the way one would ordinarily speak to a member of royalty.
It's trivial.
Friendly.
You're in for a nasty surprise, my dear...
"Well, I told her I'd have to arrest her if she did anything like that again, and she tried bribing her way back onto my good side with some on-the-house perks."
Emma elaborates when she bores of the silence, taking note of Regina's unusually frosty reception and putting it down to the demands of her recent use of magic as she doesn't have any reason to believe that she herself should be the cause.
Imagine that!
"Her offer was totally illegal, of course, and probably not the best idea when trying to appeal to the Sheriff... Anyway, I think I'm going to go down to the Rabbit later and cash in on the offer. Crooked cops have way more fun if the movies are to be believed. Do you want to tag along and see if she'll extend her lawbreaking ways to the Mayor?"
"Tag along...?"
The Queen scowls at the very notion put forth in the informal manner she has come to expect and detest from the Sheriff.
"Well, yeah. I mean, I know we're supposed to be figuring out what the hell's going on with the ship in the woods, but I think if I have to hear my mom tell me one more time that whoever was in there is more afraid of us than we are of them, I might give her something to be afraid of! I get it, we're here to help, but between navigating Hell and trying to figure out what colour to paint my bathroom, I'm kind of up to here with dealing with everyone's shit."
Emma stretches her hand up over her head, and dark eyes flicker as a narrow slice of pale flesh is exposed by the thick wool of her sweater.
Running her tongue thoughtfully between her teeth, the Queen smirks, wondering what Snow might have said clad in her billowing white gown all those years ago if she'd known what a common tongue her little Princess would grow up to possess.
"So, are you in? You might as well do something given how you're dressed."
Emma laughs, but it is not an unkind sound, rather one of amused camaraderie that the brunette understands yet fails to connect with.
"What about how I'm dressed?"
She challenges, and Emma raises a brow and rises knowingly to the bait.
"It's a bit much, no? I mean for sorting out Storybrooke's newest crisis, anyway."
"Ah. So if I were to wear this when out of an evening with yourself it would be considered more suitable?"
"Uh. Yeah, I guess?"
Emma frowns, wondering if this might perhaps be the first time when it has been Regina secretly day-drinking, and not herself.
"So? Do you want to come?"
She tries again for an answer, a little apprehensive as dark eyes bore into her intently. Finally, the darker woman offers her a withering sigh and shakes her head.
"My dear, I'm afraid I must apologise. You see, while I'm sure it would be fascinating to accompany you down into the squalid depths of that foul tavern, such a place is no longer really my scene."
"Huh?"
The blonde frowns, leaning back just a little- her hands gripping the gravestone when her position becomes precarious- as the darker woman stalks slowly closer; honing in on her.
"I do, however, have an alternative suggestion."
"...Okay?"
"And I do use the term 'suggestion' loosely."
"Regina... What are you doing?"
"Plans have changed, Miss Swan."
The brunette confides, before cutting off the blonde's confusion with a swift veil of darkness.