A/N: Enjoy :) Sorry- but not that sorry- for where the first scene cuts off, I just need to decide on a couple of things. The Lily/ Regina dynamic will also be explained as this progresses :) Reviews would be great! Hope everyone had a good weekend!
"... I suggest that you- how did you put it?- run."
The Queen warns victoriously, and she gives an arrogant flick of her wrist that sends rusted iron yawning slowly open to offer her freedom. The blonde simply stares, watching her with eyes wide like a doe caught in the headlights, and- just like an animal fated for doom- she seems momentarily unable to move.
"You didn't really think you could beat me, did you, Saviour?"
The brunette asks, her voice liquid silk as she relishes what she has always considered her rightful claim to the upper hand.
"You haven't won yet."
Emma points out, drinking in soft, forbidden flesh and the look of dark promise that spreads salaciously across the Queen's lips.
"That really is one of your biggest flaws, did you know that, dear? The inability to accept that you are not entitled to come out the victor in every game you choose to play. Some may respect you for that, but I see you more as a spoilt child unable to grasp that things aren't going her way."
The brunette muses snidely.
"I think you may be deflecting some of your own hangups onto me, Your Majesty. I only expect to beat you at the final hour because of the experience I've gained in doing just that."
"Well then, prepare to be educated."
The darker woman snaps, and she takes a couple of steps closer; grinning sadistically as the blonde reciprocates with a few uneasy steps back.
"Last chance, dear. I won't lie to you and tell you that you might actually get away, but I'll at least offer you the opportunity to try. I'll even allow you a head start... And they said I knew nothing of kindness."
The brunette shakes her head in a burlesque portrayal of regret, before smirking back up at the younger woman and hissing dangerously
"Go on, Emma... Run."
"No."
The blonde bites back, her teeth bared as the Queen takes a purposeful step closer; dark eyes glittering through the gloom.
"Go on, little rabbit."
The darker woman goads threateningly, now only a foot away from the blonde.
"No!"
Emma barks back again, more forcefully this time, and the brunette snarls before taking her final step and backing the younger woman roughly against the wall. She slams her hands on either side of the blonde's head- the porous grit of the rock walls damp against her palms- as she pushes her bare form against the Saviour's and finds her lips. There is an aggression and a warning to her kiss, and Emma tastes her own blood on the darker woman's tongue as the Queen removes one hand from the wall and finds her throat. The flicker of disquiet this act incites battles for dominance against the ache low in her gut as she can smell the brunette's excitement- hot and dangerous- and cruel nails claw and sink in. Playing back- unwilling to allow the Queen any fantasy of victory- Emma refuses to let her nervousness show as the darker woman presses down, and instead takes charge of their kiss; tasting the brunette hungrily before offering the small nick to the Queen's lip a sly flick of her tongue and bringing her own hands up to plunge into dark tresses. The brunette's brow furrows in surprise, having expected retaliation rather than an invitation, and as she seems momentarily unsure, the younger woman grabs a fist of thick hair and pulls savagely until the threatening grip at her throat eases up a little.
"Bitch."
The Queen growls, pulling back to regard the blonde furiously and Emma shows her teeth as she bats the darker woman's hand away and grabs her wrist; digging in her own nails in retribution. She can feel delicate bones grating as she tightens her grip, but the brunette's expression doesn't change to allow any signs of discomfort. Instead, the Queen pushes more firmly into the younger woman with her hips, forcing one leg between the blonde's as she swiftly reverses Emma's cruel grip with her own in the split second of uncertainty that follows; pinning the Saviour's hand up against the wall as she stares her down with fire flickering in dark coals.
"You can still back down, dear. Your move."
She taunts breathlessly, and Emma narrows her eyes before leaning back in to brush at scarlet lips while she removes her free hand from dark hair and drags her nails purposefully between the Queen's exposed breasts; trailing lower with clear intent before the brunette grabs at her wrist and pins this hand, too, against the wall. Just like up in the garden when she had been in control, Emma knows before even trying that she will be unable to push back against the darker woman's iron grip when she uses her power. It seems that they are well-matched and that the key to the game is to have been the first to make a move; that dominance and upper-hand quelling the other's attempt to render the threat neutral.
"You should have run."
The Queen smirks as she savours the image of the younger woman pinned at her mercy, and Emma raises a brow as she asks huskily
"Why? It's still anyone's game."
Earning herself an angry snarl as the brunette is ill-practised in dealing with such blatant insubordination.
As Regina, I dealt with it daily at the hands- the tongue- of the insufferable bitch, but this is hardly a spat between two town leaders. I have her mine to rights and yet she continues to challenge me; refuses to break.
"Your pride will be your undoing, Swan."
"I've heard that before, I'm sure I'll hear it again. In this case, though, I'd say you're just turning something I merely stated as fact into a personal slight, and that seems kind of infantile. Weak, almost- ah!"
The younger woman chokes as the brunette slams into her roughly in retribution, and she glowers back into dark eyes as she regains her breath before dropping her gaze as the Queen releases one of her hands in favour of pressing her palm purposefully against the base of her corset.
"You... You..."
The darker woman searches for a term that encompasses the crippling hatred she feels towards the Saviour, but she comes up empty and so she simply begins a slow trail up the supple flank of the younger woman's corset; exposing pale skin in her wake as she slices black leather cleanly in two, leaving a hairline graze where she cuts purposefully deep.
"It's my game, Saviour."
She whispers, swallowing as the younger woman's hand so recently released comes to rest at her shoulder; Emma gripping her tightly as soft leather falls open. The Queen leans in to taste her; hot flesh pressed against the same as her hand comes to rest between them, dangerous and heavy over the blonde's heart.
"There's no one to help you now, Swan."
"That makes two of us, then. Play your hand... Or was that supposed to scare me into backing down?"
The way I see it, I have you backed up just how I want you."
"Enjoy that while it lasts."
"I intend to."
The darker woman smiles, and the blonde suffers a flicker of doubt as, up close as she stands now, she finds herself unable to draw the line between the Queen and Regina.
She refuses to accept that her confusion stems from the fact that beneath her anger and need to win this bizarre game of wills exists an unsettling but strong sense of anticipation.
She's not Regina...
"Regina?"
Lily frowns as she looks up in response to her name being called. She pulls herself up from her slouched perch against the lamppost as the Mayor approaches, adopting a hard expression as she has no clue just what the brunette might want from her.
Whatever it is, it will give me great pleasure to deny her it.
She allows a cold smile to touch her lips for a moment as this thought swims comfortingly through her mind, and she slips her phone into her back pocket as she crosses her arms over her chest and waits impatiently for the Mayor to stop in front of her.
"What do you want?"
She asks, and Regina sighs as, while she has no idea what she has done to rub the young woman up the wrong way, she has never received anything but ice from Lily since returning to Storybrooke with her in tow. She privately finds this a little rich, given as she wasn't the one to pull a gun on the woman, but as they spend little time around one another, she has simply opted not to take any interest in whatever ill feelings fester on Lily's end.
Now, she stands with her hands buried in the pockets of her coat and an uneasy expression painting her brow; refusing to let the clear tension between them hinder her current objective.
"Have you seen Emma?"