A/N: One down, one to go! Sorry this is out later than promised. It's hard parting with longer fics, and I spent a lot of time procrastinating while getting annoyed with myself that I wasn't getting very far, but I think, really, I just didn't want to let this go. The next chapter will be the final chapter, and I THINK it will be up this week, but I have an interview on Thursday and need to do some prep and that's been weighing on my mind, so it will either need to wait until that's over, OR, this will end up being my stress-reliever in the interim. I hope you like this penultimate chapter, and thank you so much if you're still sticking with this story. I know I've taken my sweet, SWEET time, but I hope it was worth the wait :). Thanks for reading, as always, and I would love to know what you think of this chapter before we get to the finale! :D
Drumming her fingers impatiently on the smooth granite of the countertop, Regina shakes her head when she glances up at the clock.
7.23 PM.
In all honesty, while perturbed, she somewhat relishes the prospect of scolding the blonde for her tardiness along with several previous matters of contention born earlier today that she's not about to just let slide.
After all, where's the fun in that?
"You have a lot to answer for, Saviour..."
She murmurs, speaking as the Queen, and speaking as herself. On cue, the doorbell chimes in the hall and she takes a moment to compose herself. She savours the fresh smell of herbs used in the dressing generously spooned over the salad centring the kitchen table, and the warm flicker of the candles dotting the shelves. The salad is one she's prepared on several previous occasions and she'd been surprised when it had gone down well with the blonde when she'd served it a few months ago. Of course, she'd made sure to exaggerate her shock over the fact in the snidest way possible; mocking and teasing the younger woman until she'd hit that ever-precarious tipping point between friendly bickering and flirtation before pulling back swiftly, lest they plunge over the edge.
Applying a smile, she stalks out into the hall to greet her guest, before remembering her intent to meet Emma's arrival with stern disapproval and adjusting her expression accordingly.
"What time do you call-"
But she's cut off as she takes a physical step back; wincing as she's hit by the bitter chill of the wind, and caught off guard by the steadily thickening layer of snow blanketing her drive.
"I know, I know! I'm sorry! But I had to pretty much crawl over here once it started doing that."
Emma apologises, pointing up at the flurry of snowflakes peppering the night sky.
Debating whether to berate the blonde for the fact that she should have left her house earlier given the circumstances, or for the fact that she'd driven in such dismal weather at all, Regina eventually simply steps back and permits entry.
"Well, I won't make you crawl any further, tempting as the thought may be."
She muses silkily, and she's unsurprised when Emma flashes her a grin in place of offering a smart retort. Watching as the blonde bends over to remove her boots, she notes a blue tinge to pale fingers and finds a reason to admonish the Sheriff after all.
"You really need to get your heater fixed. If not for your sake, then for everyone else's, what with the way the windscreen fogs up."
"It's not so bad if I roll the window down."
The younger woman shrugs, straightening up, and Regina shakes her head as she points out seriously
"I'm not so sure your hands would agree."
Before lacing her fingers through the blonde's and grimacing pointedly at the resultant unpleasant chill.
"What did I tell you about being gross?"
Emma grumbles, looking down at the Queen's affectionate hold on her with a wrinkle of her nose.
"Gross, dear?"
Regina challenges, tightening her grip and guiding the blonde's hands up beneath her sweater and shirt to press against the warm skin of her stomach.
"... It appears I was mistaken."
The Sheriff laughs quietly; her smile stretching into a smirk as she watches the brunette squeeze her eyes shut with a gasp as she forces herself to tolerate a couple more seconds before shoving her away.
"As was I in my decision to do that. Your fingers are like ice cubes!"
"Sorry."
Emma chuckles, pulling the sleeves of her coat down over her hands. She considers offering her host a coy quip about how she hopes she plans to warm her up, but instead fails to hide a snort of laughter.
"What's funny?"
Regina asks curiously.
"Nothing, I just realised my conscious attempts at flirting really don't differ in any way from how I've spoken to you for the best part of two years."
"Wait, some of that was flirting?"
The brunette teases, and she finds herself joining in with the Sheriff's amusement when Emma simply shrugs and replies
"Honestly, I don't even know at this point."
"Well, maybe you should try harder... I- ah!"
The Mayor hisses as the blonde pushes her up against the wall and tastes her hungrily; the younger woman slipping her hands back beneath warm silk as she keeps the Queen pinned at her mercy.
Stepping back, she meets the brunette's dark gaze knowingly as the latter's cheeks appear suddenly flushed, before she unbuttons her coat and states coolly
"Actually, I have tried relatively hard. I wasn't really sure what the deal was for this evening, to be honest, but... I made an effort."
She advises unnecessarily as she hangs grey wool on the hook by the door before turning back to find the Queen staring at her with open appreciation.
"I mean, I know you said I should cool it with the ill-fitting dresses, but I figured this one fits relatively well, even if the tights do ruin what I was going for a little bit."
She grins, looking down at the black nylon encasing her legs, before splaying her palms helplessly.
"That said, I did veto the woollen ones you found oh so hilarious a couple of weeks ago... Regina?"
She frowns, waiting for the brunette to offer a response as she starts to feel a little self-conscious under her silent scrutiny.
"I just-"
But it's the Mayor's turn to cut their conversation off; backing Emma up against the door as she kisses her heatedly while grabbing each of her wrists and pinning them on either side of her head as she leans in flush.
"Okay, so you like the dress?"
The blonde smirks against painted lips, and Regina pulls back to glance down at black charmeuse cut in a low V to expose the ripple of the younger woman's sternum before offering her a smile stretched sinfully wide.
"Well, I don't need to worry you borrowed this one from Mary Margaret and that's a good start."
"Mm. I know it's not quite as exciting as the little number your mind conjured - keyword, little - but-"
"-It's much nicer."
"Really? I mean, the other one was literally your fantasy..."
"Hm, that was more cruel lust than it was grounded desire. I told you, dear; I don't see you that way. The dress I summoned was designed for an explicit purpose; to be explicit, or just short of the term. Barely."
"Slutty."
Emma helps her out, and Regina purses her lips but nods in agreement, before stating firmly.
"It was. This isn't. You aren't."
"Thank you. For the surprisingly sincere compliment, and for returning to the classics once again. Do you remember how grumpy I got with you the last time you wore this? And you kept challenging me on it. Kept asking why I was snapping at you when you'd done nothing to deserve it... I mean, you had, just to be clear, but that wasn't why I was in such a mood. It wasn't your snide comments or your underhanded way of dealing with town politics, it was that fucking suit. It's very hard to win an argument with someone when you're busy trying not to undress them in your head..."
"I'd imagine it is, and it really is proving rather fascinating learning of your sordid thoughts suffered in my office, dear... I can't say I've ever felt the same way watching you balancing back on your chair, eating pastries, with the faulty tap in the station's bathroom dripping audibly for ambience. Even on the rare occasions when you've ironed your shirt and look semi-presentable."
"I can't say I blame you, and yeah, that's more the sort of compliment I'm used to..."
The blonde chuckles, and Regina shakes her head as she points out simply
"Miss Swan, if I were ever to call you some of the things that you call me, you would no doubt excuse yourself and never come back. I'm also fully aware that while there are many facets to your personality I admire, I have also entered into a relationship with a woman in her thirties who finds the term 'sexy' hysterical, so while I might be thinking it looking at you right now, I decided not to say it lest you find yourself so childishly amused you end up weeping, as I seem to remember happened last time I uttered the term."
"In my defence, you used it to refer to the quality of the new printer in your office and I just wasn't expecting it... And thanks. Likewise. You look very sexy."
"... You're really very irritating, aren't you."
"It has been said... Mostly by you."
"Yes, well..."
The brunette sighs, her hips still flush with the Sheriff's as she maintains her grip on her wrists. Leaning back in for another taste, she plays into what she's learned earns her the best response thus far and adds more weight to her dominant position, pressing against the younger woman demandingly before hastily taking a step back when the latter yelps in her ear.
"Watch it with your heels!"
Emma admonishes, rubbing her foot with a wince.
"Sorry! Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine... Why do you wear heels around the house, anyway? It's not like they're the most comfortable things in the world, no matter how well you walk in them."
The blonde frowns as she studies sleek leather, and Regina cocks her head, before offering the younger woman a small smile when she reads Emma's query as purely curious rather than a sly dig at her mannerisms.
"I don't."
She replies simply.
"Not always, no, but most of the time when I come round, you do."
"Exactly. When you come round. I'm not so masochistic that I would do so otherwise... After all, that's beginning to seem more like your territory, dear."
"I-"
"-But, you told me once, during the first week we met, that you liked them. I'm not sure why you felt the need to confuse the tension between us with a compliment, but I imagined there was some malice behind it, or at the very least an attempt at manipulation-"
"-Because I said I liked your shoes?!"
"Mm. Naturally, finding you despicably abhorrent, I took the opportunity to suggest you might benefit from wearing some yourself; an inarguable upgrade to your hideous boots."
"Those boots?"
Emma grins, glancing down at her discarded footwear.
"The very same. I made the remark to be catty, but rather than bite back at me, you responded with a fact that I actually found rather interesting. You told me you would often wear heels for work because they were part of your 'character', but that when just being yourself, you didn't feel they suited you as you found the sort of women that wore the style you liked to be much too polished and intimidating. Of course, as soon as you put two and two together and equated your initial compliment with your admission, you gave me some flustered excuse and acted as though you'd meant nothing by it... Needless to say, I wasn't convinced."
"So... You've worn heels whenever you've thought I might drop by for the last few years to... What? Intimidate me?"
"Initially, yes. Also because you said you liked them."
The brunette shrugs.
"... You are so fucking weird, Regina."
Emma muses with an expression of open fascination, and she claims a kiss swiftly before the darker woman can mistake her appreciation for an insult.
"That's rich coming from you, dear."
The Mayor scolds, tugging lightly on loose curls before stepping back and leading them into the kitchen.
"I thought we would eat in here. I know usually, with guests, I would set the table in the dining room, but-"
"-I'm not a guest. Well, not really. I'm not so sure what I am."
The blonde chuckles, and Regina nods as she reminds her seriously
"That's been the problem for a while now."
"Yeah... I'm glad talked."
"I'm sure you are."
The brunette smirks, opening a bottle of wine while the Sheriff takes a seat at the table, and she splays her hands with a pointed look down at the fine tailoring of her suit to belabour her point.
Pouring them each a glass of merlot, she sits down opposite the blonde and serves up the salad she'd prepared earlier. Ordinarily, she would have put more effort into the menu given that she's very much determined to see this as a date- even if Emma refuses to use the term without looking slightly nauseous - but she's glad she'd eventually decided to keep things simple. The delay in getting around to finally eating hasn't affected the dish in any way, and the fact that she hasn't spent the last couple of hours standing over the stove had allowed her more time to get ready and pamper herself in the way she's sorely missed being part of her romantic routine. She imagines she might be alone on that front, but when she looks up at the blonde and considers the flattering cut of her dress and the soft fall of carefully tamed curls, she's not so sure.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For humouring me on seeing tonight as a date. I know you find the concept unbelievably repulsive, but thank you for 'trying relatively hard', as you put it. It may not be your scene, but I'd missed it."
She confides, feeling a moment of tightness in her chest when the Sheriff offers her a hard look and wondering if she should have tried for their usual banter instead of calling attention to the underlying premise of the evening yet again.
"... You know I'm just being defensive, right? That it's complicated for me?"
Emma speaks up finally.
"What do you mean?"
"Regina, I spent a good three years before I came here going on 'dates' as part of my job. I'm somewhat of a pro! But it was all fake. I never dated when I was younger, not in the way we're using the term, so that was kind of my first experience with it all. In some ways, that made me very good at what I did, because I taught myself how to behave in the situation by watching others and treating it as research rather than basing any of it on experience. I couldn't get in my head and be awkward about it, because I had no previous reference that might trip me up. I just watched a bunch of wildly misogynistic movies to figure out what was required of me and played a role. In that sense, it's always amused me when you make your little comments about how I present myself, as you have a tendency to act as though you fully believe I crawled out of a bog before moving here and that I'm genuinely perplexed by the concept of getting myself washed and dressed in the morning. You do realise, I spent several years getting myself primped, waxed and groomed to within an inch of my life? I received a small fortune when I booked a couple of guys to empty my apartment back in Boston and sell anything that wasn't in the boxes I had sent over previously. Most of that money came from my collection of dresses, heels, and clothes I saw no earthly reason to ship over here because they weren't in the least bit my style. They were just props to a ruse, because that's what all of those dates were. They were pockets of time spent in a restaurant or bar where my sole reason for being there was to fuck up some guy's life, and his sole and often not-so-subtle reason for being there was his interest in fucking me. So yeah, I find dates kind of gross."
"I can understand that..."
The brunette replies quietly.
"It's not just that, to be fair... I'm also just kind of nervous."
"Nervous?"
"Well, yeah. Like I said; fake dates; I'm your girl, real dates with people I actually like; I'm clueless... As was immediately obvious when Hook and I made a few attempts to make things unnecessarily awkward by labelling what could otherwise have been a pleasant evening. In that case, my inexperience was somewhat matched, as the pirate dating scene isn't especially well-established, so all in all, it was a disaster, but fortunately, those nights ended up being so bad they were amusing rather than terrible. The main issue I had was that I was acutely aware that we had very different ideas of what was expected due to our pasts and our previous life experience... With you, that awareness has increased tenfold... You were a queen, Regina. And, whereas I used to put on the role of being this alluring, desirable temptress, you don't. It's not an act, it's just you. You're not pretending to mind your manners and act all sophisticated, it's innate. It's just nerve-wracking trying not to get in my head when I know that you do have references of how meals like this are supposed to go... When I react the way I do to you calling tonight what it is, it's just because I know you have certain expectations and I'm not sure whether I'm equipped to meet them or even pick up on what some of them are."
"...I don't have any expectations."
"Bullshit!"
"Okay, maybe I do. And maybe you just met one of those expectations perfectly... I expect you to be you, Emma. That's all. I'm glad you wore the dress and that you put some effort in, but I wasn't counting on it when I insisted we call tonight a date. I shared many pleasant evenings with Robin; some casual, some less so where I would spend more time getting ready and enjoy the formality of our time spent out at dinner or walking along the beach. And, yes, I received a more willing audience to the theatre of those evenings, but at the end of the day, the man was still a rogue archer, dear. I didn't wind him up with frequent mention of my previous standing the way I do when talking to you, simply because his reaction was invariably calm and polite whereas yours is sarcastic and crude. It turns out, I seem to like that for some implausible reason. Or perhaps, I just like you. It doesn't really matter, I suppose... I am sorry for not realising how your previous work might taint an evening such as this, though. Especially when I find myself guilty of sharing an interest with those men you consider vile."
"Huh?"
"Think it through, dear..."
Regina raises a brow, before offering the blonde a flash of her teeth when the latter's eyes widen with understanding.
"Oh!... Yeah, well, I mean, I want to fuck you too, so it's fine."
"Ah, see, another expectation met!"
The brunette smirks, earning herself a sheepish grin that swiftly turns purely predatory. In turn, her dark humour softens as she studies the Sheriff affectionately; calling out her attire in a less heated manner.
"Aren't you cold?"
"A little, but I'm alright."
Emma shrugs, and the Mayor frowns as she finishes her food and places her knife and fork neatly in the centre of the plate.
"Well, we can go light a fire in the other room. That might do more to help than these."
She smiles, pointing at the candles adding a pleasant ambience to the room, and the blonde nods agreeably before remaining fixated on one of the tealights flickering on the windowsill. Nibbling her lip, she turns her attention back to the Queen and admits guiltily
"I guess I should have asked more questions before doing what I did earlier today... I honestly didn't think you'd be as pissed off as you were when I pulled that stunt down in Hyde's cell. I really was just trying to help... I remembered what you said about that Gift of Sevens spell or whatever you called it, and I tried to replicate it with the candle I stole from the prayer room, but I'm not so sure it really did anything."
"Mm... That surprises you? That you gained little by splashing a single drop of blood on an ordinary tealight?"
"I just-"
"-You placed us in inordinate danger, that's what you 'just' did... It didn't work because you didn't enchant the candle, nor did you feed it the required amount. You're lucky things went as smoothly as they did and that we weren't forced to move too far from the portal we opened. You're lucky Hyde didn't have a weapon handy in his office and that no one from that realm entered and raised the alarm... We could have been caught, dear. We could have been hurt. I know you found my anger over what happened unfair and perhaps even a little amusing, but I wasn't amused in the slightest. Your argument is that it all worked out, but our success wasn't guaranteed, Emma. You took a big risk on my safety and on yours, and you didn't even run it by me! You just ignored everything I'd told you in terms of how I felt and made a decision that could have negatively affected both of our lives."
"I just didn't want you to lose your magic..."
"I know. And, as I told you at the time, I really don't believe that I would have... I appreciate your intention, Saviour, just not your manner."
"So... Same as usual, then?"
Emma chances a grin, and Regina lets out a long-suffering sigh as she draws a line under their conversation and pushes herself up from the table.
"Come on, let's get you warmed up. You're clearly in need."
She beckons the blonde out into the hall with a pointed glance down at her chest.
"Pervert."
The Sheriff scolds, following Regina into the drawing room.
"Yes, well, according to you, I always have been when it comes to yourself... Though, I feel judgement should really fall on the one of us that's not wearing a bra."
"Oh?"
"I should think- uh!"
The brunette jerks in surprise as the younger woman runs a finger down the back of her shirt, and she glances over her shoulder with a frown.
"Just checking."
Emma smirks, tracing the band of lace she can feel beneath expensive silk. Enjoying the perturbed heat glittering back at her in dark eyes, she moves around so that she faces the Mayor and grows bold in her exploration; following the faint line of balconette cups over globed flesh to earn herself a shiver.
"Of course, I could probably do with a bit more intel."
She murmurs against painted lips, before letting out a surprised gasp when Regina pushes her away and shoves her roughly to land sprawled on the sofa.
"A little forward for a first date..."
The darker woman teases wickedly, watching intently as the blonde pushes herself up to sit properly and adjusts her dress to better cover sites almost exposed.
"That argument might hold more weight if you hadn't fucked me against the wall of a dungeon shortly after our first kiss."
Emma reasons simply, and the Queen offers her a slow smile as she recalls the noises made during the scene the Sheriff refers to.
"Make yourself useful and get a fire started. I'll go and fetch our glasses from the kitchen."
She instructs, leaving the younger woman to do as she's been told.
Entering the kitchen, she rinses their empty plates in the sink before topping up each of their glasses and considering her hazy reflection in the glass of the french doors before taking the wine back through into the drawing room where she finds the blonde bent over the hearth stacking the logs in a conical structure around some kindling.
Placing their glasses on the coffee table, she makes her way over to stand behind the Sheriff who stills for just a moment - aware of her audience - before striking a match and putting it to use. When she moves to straighten up, the Queen places a hand on her back to keep her bent over as she is; dark eyes watching the spread of the flames as she makes sure to carry through with her intent before they can grow too intense for the blonde to remain stood with her face so close. Running her hand slowly up the back of the younger woman's thigh, she coaxes the hem of her dress up over her ass to collect at the small of her back. Plucking at the waistband of her tights, she slides black nylon down Emma's legs until it pools at her ankles, revealing the lace swatch of her underwear.
"While I appreciate that you didn't ruin your ensemble with childish wool, I still find it a shame to spoil an outfit on account of the cold. The heating is on, and the fire will soon catch onto the larger logs and provide ample warmth. Take those the rest of the way off and come take a seat."
She orders, offering firm flesh an indulgent squeeze before making her way over to the sofa.
Toeing off her tights and pulling her dress back into place, Emma pads over and sits with her feet curled up underneath her as she asks dryly
"Can a single piece of clothing really be considered an outfit?"
"Mm, well, when we progress to the removal of your dress in due course, I suppose we'll have our answer."
"... Why wait?"
"Emma... Please at least try to play along..."
The darker woman frowns, torn as part of her psyche is inclined to take the blonde's side, while the other longs for her compliance. The Sheriff's inner musing takes on a similar theme; recognising the previous firm hand to her backside and the bold move in holding her in place as attributes belonging to the Queen, whereas the hopeful quality of her tone speaks purely of Regina as she's known her for the better part of their relationship.
"Fine."
She concedes, sipping at her wine as she watches the flames intensify, and when she reaches over to touch the Mayor, she does so gently; tucking her hair back into place. Offering the blonde a grateful look, the brunette considers her reciprocal smile pensively; knowing that they've sat together as they are now so many times before with each of them too wary to address the tension that would sometimes make those moments ache.
"... I was at the diner earlier, and I was interrupted by Gold. He wanted to know how we got on with Hyde."
"And? Did you tell him I fucked everything up?"
"Of course!... He also wanted to express his opinion about, well, us."
"Us?"
"Us... When I showed him the cuff and asked for his help while you were missing, I expressed that part of my certainty that something was amiss stemmed from how you'd behaved towards me when I'd last seen you-... Well... How I had behaved as you, but I didn't know that at the time; not the part of me confiding in Rumple."
"Wait, you told him about the dress?!"
"No! I just... Look, I tried to tell him as little as possible, but given what was at stake, when he demanded that I elaborate on what I meant when I told him you weren't acting like your usual self, I ended up feeling compelled to explain that I'd felt you were... Flirting with me."
"Regina! What the fuck?"
"Yes! That's the reaction I was expecting from him! Yet, he seemed entirely unphased, and I swiftly moved the conversation along given how unlikely my read on your behaviour had surely been... I suppose I've simply ignored some of his loaded remarks on the matter since, but today he was rather more candid. He said he was relieved one of us had finally made a move and started flirting with the other, as it was 'about time'..."
"Well... I guess it's hard to feel too affronted by the guy when he's right."
Emma pulls a face, before taking the opportunity to share her own little titbit of awkward information as she wrinkles her nose and speaks carefully to the flames.
"David knows."
"Knows... Wait, he knows knows?"
"Yeah... Although I'm not sure he's as weirdly relieved as Rumple that we're finally getting busy."
"You told him?"
"Sort of. It was more a confirmation than an explanation out of the blue."
"And you didn't think to tell me?!"
"I mean, I faced a blizzard to get here and then you opened the door looking like that! It slipped my mind a little."
"... What did he say?"
"Not a whole lot."
"Oh... Are you okay?"
"Of course. And I think the fact that he didn't say much is a good thing. I figure if he'd been as freaked out as I'd feared, he'd have tried to talk me around or sat me down for a serious chat, but he just kind of... Left it with me. I think it's like you said; people have more or less figured out that we're weird when it comes to one another. I hope, one day, my parents see it as good weird, but that's on them. They're always saying they just want me to be happy, though, and I am."
"Yes. Rumple said more or less the same thing... Although he's my old and very twisted mentor, and your mother is my unwilling stepchild, so the general take on the situation may differ ever so slightly."
"Huh! That's so fucked up when you word it that way."
"Do you think I'm unaware?"
"No... Oh, well. I mean it is a whole porn category in itself; the whole step-parent, step-child thing, so-"
"-Stop right there."
"Fine, I just meant-"
"-I mean it... You are ruining our date!"
Regina scolds, offering the blonde a perturbed scowl, and she supposes it really shouldn't surprise her when the Sheriff responds by biting down on the pad of her thumb to poorly hide a smirk as green eyes glitter back at her feverishly.
"Oh, come on, Regina, this whole thing started out in the most fucked up way possible! I know that part of you is still in there... Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you pushed back before, and I do like just sitting with you and talking to you. I always have, and I imagine I always will... But that's not why I asked my parents to watch Henry tonight, and that's definitely not why I opted to wear a dress... I wanted you to like it, and me in it, but I also just kind of imagined we'd end up doing something like this..."
Emma trails off, pushing herself up and moving to straddle slim thighs as she dips her head and claims a kiss that swiftly grows teeth; Regina resting one hand on her waist while the other gets lost in thick curls and stops her from pulling back.
"You're evil..."
"Maybe, but not so much that it's my namesake, Your Majesty."
"No... And maybe you need a reminder of why that is, and why they called me that."
"I'm listening..."
"Hm. This is more of a kinesthetic lesson, Miss Swan."
"Huh?"
"Did you really think all I'd prepared for tonight was a salad?... Come on. Upstairs. Now."