A/N: Reviews would be awesome :)
"...Bad move."
Anger laces the brunette's words, lending them a venomous rasp, before she makes a movement with her hand- currently in complete control as Emma remains reclined on the bed with her expression pensive and troubled- and banishes the younger woman from her sight. She sends her to one of the rooms upstairs but isn't particularly bothered about precisely where.
With any luck, she'll wind up in one of the walls or through the glass of one of the balcony windows.
She smirks at the thought, but it is a halfhearted response at best. She's surprised by the level of melancholic resentment the Saviour's recent play has brought out in her, and as she stalks back towards the bed- towards rumpled sheets that smell faintly of sex- she perches upon them and picks up the diary which lies discarded with its yellow pages furled out in a terrible smile.
You will pay for that, you wretch. Mark my words, you will pay for it.
She sighs bitterly, before hurling a compact burst of blue fire towards the heavy velvet curtains; watching the dusky material burn bright with her fury, before dampening the flames with the closing of her fist.
"Bitch."
She spits for what feels like the hundredth time since finding herself trapped here with the wicked woman, and she pushes herself back off the bed in order to pace the room. She does so bare- her body tight against the evening chill- before coming to a halt in front of the ornate bureau beside the window. Studying the whorls set within dark wood thoughtfully, she eventually opens it up by pressing her thumb against a small amethyst centred in the top panel.
Curling up with a groan, Emma eventually rolls onto her back with her hand going up to her head to check for damage. She has landed on the stone floor of some unknown room with enough force to send her skidding and crashing into the end post of a large, canopied bed; seemingly thrust here by the Queen rather than simply rematerialising as she has in the past.
"Ow."
She grunts, pushing herself up with a wince as her tailbone twinges miserably at the movement. She feels a little rattled after her less-than-graceful entrance to god knows where, but she can't help but feel that the brutality of the Queen's magic is telling of just how well she has succeeded in getting under her skin.
"Totally deserved it."
She mutters as she staggers to her feet. In doing so, she catches sight of herself in a large, brass-framed mirror that rests on a set of grand, curled feet.
"Fuck..."
It comes out as a low, but not entirely unimpressed breath as she studies herself in the glass. Her recent collision with the floor has left her with several more scrapes to add to her collection, and when she takes a step closer, she is able to make out the imprint of the brunette's teeth on either side of the sharp slice of her clavicle.
"At least try to keep me in one piece, Your Majesty, otherwise where's the fun?"
She muses quietly, but she does so with a grin; never having been one to get upset about marks and scratches save for those that hinder her ability to do anything she might wish to do. Still, her feeling of victory is fragile, and it soon fades to a dull buzz as she stares down her reflection with a frown. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it occurs to her that the Queen has shown evidence that she should treat the glass with caution, but she doesn't think that the darker woman will wish to watch her with Daniel so fresh on her mind.
"After that small trick."
She murmurs, and her mind replies dubiously
She tricked you, too.
She thins her lips at this unwelcome fact and tries to brush it off.
She did, but what of it? We've established by now that my... Whatever it is with Regina, isn't totally without its peculiar moments of... I don't even know what you'd call it.
You do so...
Attraction.
She's attractive.
Is that so strange? Is that so wrong for me to think that? Of course not. She looks after herself, and she's damn good at it... And I have eyes.
I'm not the first person to look at their friend and suffer certain... Thoughts.
I did it plenty before Regina- did it, acted on it- so why should it be a problem now?
It isn't.
She nods as though to confirm this to herself, but she isn't quite able to push her discomfort aside. After all, since the Queen gatecrashed her life, she's found herself happy enough to accept her appeal so long as she keeps the idea of Regina- her Regina- separate. What just happened in the darker woman's bedroom had blurred that line, just as the Queen had intended it to, and Emma swallows uncomfortably as she is plagued by the feel, the scent, the sound of the brunette- her version of the brunette- moving on top of her.
Kissing her.
Fucking her.
"It was only a trick... Not the end of the world."
No, of course not, but as she looks around the room uncomfortably with her arms crossed tightly over the bare expanse of her stomach, she narrows her eyes as they happen upon the curved ends of the curtain poles. Silver curves. Hooks.
"Leave it."
She warns her busy mind sternly, but it remains as contrary as ever and takes no notice; throwing her headfirst into comparisons she really doesn't feel it's wise to be making. Nevertheless, she is helpless to stop her train of thought once it starts, and it gains momentum swiftly, leaving her biting her lip as she tries to remember the last time she'd come undone so completely- dizzyingly- with Hook and coming up short.
Well, that's an easy one, Swan, and not worth getting all tied up over; you enjoy the game, the danger, the silent dance of battling for dominance, and your current situation is rife with all those things... That's all there is to it.
Maybe, but that hardly sets her mind at ease. After all, she and Hook get on well, they had been friends- confidants- once she'd allowed herself to trust him, and she supposes she still somewhat sees him first and foremost as her partner in crime. She's even shared this title with him, and it had been well received... They're good together.
Only...
Only she is uncomfortably aware after analysing her wants- her weaknesses- that every part of her relationship with the Mayor plays into her perversions. They may well be friends now, but the undercurrent of toying with each other still remains.
And I've never attempted to do anything about it- to fix it, or talk to her about it- because I liked it.
Hell, how I liked it.
She closes her eyes, but it's too late, and she pulls a guilty grimace as she recalls the last time she came completely- dizzyingly- undone after all.
It had been up against the wall of the shed, and it had been entirely at her whim and command. She'd practically sent Hook falling through one of the old chests left in there by previous occupants. They'd had to be quick because she was already running late for dinner with her parents, but it had seemed a necessary evil just the same, and she'd only been running late because...
... Because I'd spent the afternoon helping Regina with some paperwork and sniping back at her 'secretary' comments with as good as she dished out.
Better, even.
When I left she was blushing- I took that as a win.
"Oh, shit."
She grumbles now, tearing her gaze from the curtain pole with a roll of her eyes as her hands find her bare hips moodily. Still, she tells herself she can't dwell on problematic discoveries, and that none of the mess in her head matters anyway.
I think Regina's experimental side might have parted ways with her along with the Queen, and in spite of several moments of pathetic inner turmoil recently- reminiscing on possible shared glances and heated exchanges- the likelihood of Madame Mayor actually entertaining the idea of letting you anywhere near her is safely nil.
"I imagine she'd recoil at the very thought; probably even be slightly insulted by the idea."
She grins, but it is an uneasy expression as her mind shoots back exasperatedly
She'd never even have the thought! All of this is entirely meaningless! You got played, Swan, and now you're doing exactly what the Queen wants you to be doing and second-guessing complete make-believe.
She isn't Regina. Not your version. She's a messed up piece of work that's delighting in your misery, and because you yourself are also a messed up piece of work with something not wired quite right in your head, you kind of like it. She wants to fuck with you by fucking you, and you're standing here worrying about emotions and feelings like they're running the show all of a sudden. Push them out, push them away, and play your hand.
She raises her jaw resolutely and stalks over to the wardrobe in the corner. Pulling open heavy wood, she rifles through the fussily embellished garments inside. None are to her liking and none look even close to being her size, so she turns back to the mirror with her hands on her hips and her brow raised.
She wants all thoughts of Regina- her Regina- gone. She wants to go back to the dark and highly debauched playing field she'd first resented but had finally found a taste for down in the dungeon.
She wants to play with the Queen.
Goad the Queen.
Demand lust and punishment completely foreign to the familiar, almost amiable masquerade played out to her dismay in the Queen's bedroom.
She's angry with you- furious with you for bringing Daniel into this- and maybe that's just what you need... Let her play out her threat.
Remind yourself who she truly is.
And who she isn't.
Flicking her wrist, she once more encases her pale frame in tight leather, before storming out of the door; searching for a rough solution to the unease in her mind.
Locking the blonde's front door behind her, Regina turns to face Lily who stands at the bottom of the steps with her hands shoved deep inside the pockets of her coat.
"I can't think what else there is to be gained in staying here... I received a message from Mr Gold a while ago, and I'm beginning to think it might have something to do with all of this. You don't have to come with me to see him, but I want you to know that's where I'm going... I also want you to know that what you said upstairs... I've taken it in. I hadn't thought about some things the way I should have, and I definitely hadn't thought about how I can sometimes be quick to blame Emma and how unfair it actually is to do so given... Given everything."
"What do you want? A medal?"
"No. I just want you to know where I'm going and who I'm going to see."
Regina replies primly.
"Why?"
"Because, as much as you don't trust me, I'm not the only one who had a hand in the Curse and everything we've discussed. If I don't figure out what's happened to Emma by tomorrow evening, I guess I'll have to go to her parents, because not doing so seems irresponsible. I'm still hoping that this is all a big misunderstanding, however, and that Miss Swan is fine. If she isn't, though, and if something's going on... Gold's offer to involve himself isn't always a blessing. I've made a habit of checking in with Emma, and she with myself, when dealing with Rumple. In the face of what might be going on right now, I would sooner someone know what it is I mean to do in case anything... Happens."
"Wait. Are you telling me that you're scared?"
Lily frowns, although her tone carries no discernible hint of sympathy should this be the case.
"No. I simply want you to know what I'm doing."
Regina replies as she makes her way down the steps and onto the path that winds towards the road; stones gleaming wetly beneath the moon.
"... I'll go with you."
Lily proposes eventually, falling stiffly in stride beside the Mayor, and Regina raises a brow as she studies her pensively.
"Because you don't trust Gold, or because you don't trust me?"
"I have little time for either of you... But you said you're used to checking in with Emma before doing something like this, and I know that kind of thing is important. I've learnt that lesson a dozen times over... She would think badly of me for letting you go off on your own to do something you wanted back-up for. She's the one who got the lesson to check in and watch out for each other to finally stick in the first place."
"Is that so?"
"Yes... I learnt it too late. I let her down. She walked out of my life, and that time she stayed out of it for about fifteen years... And, as you saw, she came back into it holding a gun to my head."
"That will do it."
"Yeah."
Lily sighs, before looking up sharply as a figure approaches them through the darkness.
"Hello..."