A/N: This was a bit complicated to write, but a lot of fun! I hope it's easy enough to follow and also fun to read! comments would be lovely :)
Raising her fist to knock on the younger woman's door, Regina frowns. For a moment, something seems off to her, and she almost takes a step back as though to distance herself from that queer feeling. A second later, however, whatever had seemed amiss eludes her as everything seems just as it always does, and she wonders with a small sigh whether she's been getting enough sleep recently.
On the other side of painted wood, the Queen- wearing the blonde's guise- makes a swift move of her fingers to relinquish the repellent cloak she has cast over the house, leaving it once more a little untidy and completely ordinary. Throwing a sly smirk behind her, she grips the handle to let in their guest.
In the closet, Emma grits her teeth. She has a fairly good idea of who has come to see her, and she can't decide if she's more annoyed at the fact that she's not in the mood for Hook to think he's forgiven for yesterday's fallout, or about the display she's about to witness. She has never been a particularly jealous person- and this situation is just a little too odd to know if 'jealousy' is even the right word- but has always been one to temper her actions and words, and this loss of control doesn't sit well with her at all.
Let this nightmare commence...
Pulling open the door, the Queen smiles; flashing white teeth in a rather more predatory fashion than they are usually shown.
"Emma..."
Regina greets, dark eyes flickering down to take in the younger woman's unlikely outfit before looking swiftly back up. She takes care not to allow any hint of emotion to show on her face. Ordinarily, she quite enjoys winding the blonde up about her fashion sense, and she has done so something fierce following Emma's brief foray into evil. She takes silent pride in the self-indulgent notion that it is for this reason the younger woman has started dressing in a confusingly girlish manner now and then; not quite hitting her mark all the time, but seeming to want to compensate for something.
She hopes it's her comments causing this strange behaviour, it would be a shame to think otherwise.
"Heya."
The blonde greets her with a provocative grin, and both Regina and Emma frown for a second as the tone is a little off; almost a caricature of the younger woman's mannerisms.
"Come in."
The Queen orders, and Regina complies, freeing herself of her coat and hanging it on the hook beside the door. She wears smart dress pants and a low-cut sweater in an appealing shade of burgundy. Attention dropping once again to distractingly tight fabric, she swallows and asks in a carefully neutral tone
"Am I interrupting?"
A very faint blush colours her cheeks as she does so, and the Queen smirks as she pushes long hair back coquettishly; relishing the pretty, luxurious weight that she'd enjoyed herself back in her reign.
"No..."
She replies with teasing innocence, and she drops her gaze down at herself for a moment before confiding casually
"I was hoping you might come by."
Another smile as she lets the connotation behind this curious statement sink in, and Regina raises a brow but says nothing, simply stepping towards the kitchen presumptively.
"Oh, no, dear. I thought we'd drink in the living room for a change."
The Queen stops her, placing a hand on her arm and meeting her gaze intently.
"... Fine."
The Mayor agrees after a beat of silence, finding the blonde's use of the term 'dear' rather strange, and yet- curiously- nowhere near as jarring as she feels she should. It's a term Emma sometimes uses when mocking her, and it has always sounded peculiarly foreign and laughable whenever she's uttered it before. Now, it slips off her tongue like honey, and the blonde's usual habit of pulling back to regain her personal space is nowhere to be seen.
"I'll go make us some coffee. Take a seat."
The Queen smiles invitingly, and the brunette nods a little dazedly as she notes that Emma wears her favourite perfume. It's not the one the younger woman has taken to wearing recently, which is nice enough, but a little sweet. It's the one the blonde used to wear when she'd first come to town which is rather more delicate with an underlying floral hint. Contemplating the younger woman's dress pensively as the latter stalks for the kitchen, it crosses her mind that the Sheriff has changed her scent on purpose, but she swiftly pushes the idea aside.
How would she know you preferred the other one?
And why would she care?!
She doesn't know, and truthfully, it's a little hard to focus. She's been admittedly confused about how she sees the blonde recently, but this little encounter is starting to stir up some rather tangible answers to uncomfortable questions, and she shakes her head as she stands momentarily frozen in the hallway.
Emma lowers her head into her hands as she stands in the closet, considering for a moment simply sliding down to curl up into a tight ball of defeat before her true nature wins out. She bangs her fists against the door uselessly and screams a melody of silence.
"Regina! That's not me, you idiot! Since when do I act so fucking suave! Come on! Please! Come on!"
And for a second, the brunette seems to hesitate and cock her head, but then the Mayor walks slowly into the living room and takes a seat. The door has been left wide open, allowing the blonde to maintain her forced voyeurism.
"'Gina..."
Emma groans, giving the door a good punch to release some of her aggression and yelping when her knuckles crack painfully; the flimsy wood seeming more like steel than veneer.
Before too long, the Queen comes back into view, casting a sly glance towards the closet and offering a wink that seems off-puttingly salacious to the younger woman who had spent a fair few sessions back in her bail-bonds days trying to perfect the gesture in the mirror without success. She glowers back, knowing that the darker woman can't see her, but unable to pull any other expression in the face of pure evil.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
The Queen purrs, and Emma imagines that Regina's look of surprise might be due to the fact that she can't recall ever apologising for such a thing before.
"That's alright."
The Mayor smiles, watching curiously as the blonde stalks around the coffee table to take a seat beside her. Very close beside her.
"Careful. It's hot."
"I would presume so..."
Regina nods, glancing down to where the younger woman's pale thigh presses against her leg. Green eyes follow her gaze before finding brown with that same teasing innocence, and the Queen crosses her legs to allow dark fabric to ride up a little higher.
"So, what's new? Have you talked to the others about Hyde? Any further thoughts on what might be going on in town?"
The Queen asks as she sips at her coffee, keeping her eyes locked with the brunette's in a way that causes the Mayor's breath to catch in her throat. She is used to Emma challenging her with her stare, but the blonde usually does so when willing her to back down on something. It's usually an aggressive tactic. When they hang out though, the younger woman is surprisingly laid back; occasionally a little moody depending on her day, but generally easygoing... This, though, this is intense, and it actually intimidates her a little. Without her darker urges to bite back at the blonde, there have been several occasions just recently where her unwillingness to punish and hurt when the Sheriff crosses the line with her smart-mouthed bickering has left her feeling a little wary. She will still fight back and meet the blonde's wit with ease, but she no longer relies on her ultimate defence of retaliating just that little touch too far to turn the situation from fiery back to calm and collected. She's stopped enjoying watching that sudden look that she knows so well- the look as though she's physically slapped her- alighting the blonde's face to bring on the comforting familiarity of their platonic relationship.
So far, it's served her well that Emma is rather more closed-off than she is and will back down of her own accord when she senses things have become, well... A great deal too flirtatious.
Not now, it seems...
No. Now the blonde studies her intently as she sits much too close in a dress that fits her wickedly well and yet doesn't seem the least bit in character.
I mean, the last time I showed up for coffee unannounced, the woman answered the door in her pyjamas and a sweater I can only presume was David's...
"Nothing new has come to light. I thought we might go check the woods in a bit as we discussed?"
The brunette replies finally, trying to keep her mind from wandering dangerously.
"Just you and me?"
The Queen asks suggestively, and she bites at her lip- the blonde's lip- as she catches a small tic to the Mayor's jaw.
"Well... I thought that was what we'd said."
Regina replies with care to keep any emotion from her tone, before carrying on with a frown
"Where were you yesterday, anyway? I thought you were supposed to be meeting us out by my vault."
"Did you miss me?"
"No... No, it would just have been nice if you'd let me know you weren't coming."
"Well, I'll be sure to come later."
The Queen smirks, and dark eyes widen at this blatant innuendo and the Mayor takes a hasty sip of her coffee before spluttering.
"Did you-... Did you put liquor in this!?"
She chokes, and the blonde smiles as she takes an indulgent sip from her own cup, shrugging bare shoulders as she admits
"A little."
"Emma!"
"What? It's the weekend. You know, you and I should have a little more fun, Regina. We work too hard."
The Queen laments huskily, leaning in to study the darker woman heatedly with her hand coming to rest on the latter's thigh. The Mayor stares back at her uncertainly, drinking in familiar features set in a very unfamiliar- but not altogether unappealing- expression of pure sin.
"Emma... What are you doing?"
She breathes, aware that there are only a couple of inches separating her lips from the blonde's.
"What would you like me to do?"
The Queen challenges, and this loaded question is met by a very telling stretch of silence.
In the closet, Emma digs her nails into her cheeks hard enough to mark as she feels almost nauseous with discomfort. She's furious at the Queen for pulling this ludicrously inappropriate stunt, but also hellishly uneasy knowing she's going to have to explain all of this to Regina. The idea sits in her stomach like a lead weight, and part of it is due to the fact that it promises to be a decidedly awkward conversation, but part of it is born from the telling silence that follows the Queen's bait. She knows that if the tables were turned and it was she being tricked into thinking Regina was behaving so strangely towards her, she would hate to be let in on such an uncomfortable revelation having opted to stall at the crucial moment.
Having opted for any response other than amused disdain and dramatic repulsion as would surely be expected from her. From either of them!
Why?! Why would you hate it if she told you that the discomfort and nervousness forced by a cruel insinuation was nothing more than the result of a ruse? That it means nothing?!
Not really wanting to search for an answer to that particular question, she pushes it aside and watches through the slats with bated breath.
Honestly, it should be crazy enough just to watch someone flirt with themselves, but I'm not even that surprised...
The silence between the Queen and the Mayor continues to draw out dangerously with neither woman pulling away.
"Well?"
The Queen prompts softly with her hand slipping slyly up a slender thigh, and Regina leans in just a little further before suddenly pushing herself up from the sofa.
"I need to go sort a few things out. I'll see you in a bit."
She stammers uncomfortably, and the Queen rolls her eyes as she slumps down into the sofa with a sigh and knocks back the last of her coffee.
"Suit yourself."
"... I'll meet you out by the ship?"
"I'll be there."
The Queen nods, running her hand through long hair and adopting a bored expression that suits the blonde's features in a far more familiar way.
"Ok. Good... Thank you for the coffee, Miss Swan."
Regina forces a smile, before letting herself out of the house with a shuddered breath. She walks quickly down the path, forbidding herself from looking back. Once out of sight, she comes to a stop, worrying her bottom lip pensively with her tongue as she strives to get her head around what just happened.
That was... Odd.
Frowning as she tries to figure out where the punchline will have been to Emma's actions, she comes up empty, which she imagines just means she's missing something blindingly obvious... Surely.
Something's not right.
Walking slowly, she keeps her eyes cast down to the pavement as she tries to figure out their obscure exchange.
Maybe...
No.
Surely...
No.