A/N: I'm looking forward to adding to this one as it's fun to write :). I had two very sick dogs this week, so updates have been a little slower than planned, but I should have another chapter up sometime this weekend :). Reviews/ comments would make my day!
Sitting on the edge of her bed, Emma contemplates the dreamcatcher in her lap with a frown. She's ninety-nine per cent certain that Ruby's folksy charm is utter bullshit, and as she spies the subtle gleam of gold strands catching the light, she's mildly surprised she'd allowed herself to be talked into such nonsense.
You've been talked into much worse!
True. And, besides. She supposes it doesn't really matter whether or not the hokey spell from Granny's ancient book works or not as its promise is obsolete when it comes to her own interests.
You have no interest. Not the kind that charm is designed to unveil, anyway...
No. She'd been happy enough to go along with things when Graham had shown her some attention, partly out of boredom, and partly because doing so seemed to drive Regina just about crazy and it had felt nice to have the upper hand for all of five minutes. She's not proud of the fact - is, in fact, rather mortified over the fact given how that whole situation had ended - but it had at least given her something vaguely interesting to think about for a couple of nights to stave off the insanity plaguing her otherwise. Similarly, she'd allowed herself to get distracted by August, although his cryptic suggestions had somewhat put a dampener on letting her mind get too wild when considering the potential of going that route in hopes of some stress release, and finding out that he'd been stalking her for a significant portion of her life had snuffed out any further interest before even considering the whole "puppet" thing.
"Fuck..."
The blonde sermons; the word coming out somewhere between a groan and a chuckle as she comes to the end of her decidedly short list of potential suitors with a shake of her head. She simply refuses to believe Ruby's suggestion that she might harbour carnal intrigue without knowing it; generally pretty in tune with her body and the pleasant ache she experiences low in her stomach when interested in someone, whether that interest is wise or not.
Usually, it's not.
No, she wouldn't say she has the best taste when it comes to scratching that particular itch, and the thought lends her a smirk before her mind returns to the dreamcatcher and the possibility that she'll be shown scenes of the past she'd rather not have to deal with right now.
Ever.
Alright, ever.
Striving to push away the discomfort brought on by what she sincerely hopes is an extremely unlikely possibility, she returns to Ruby's assertion that she might find herself surprised and muses solemnly
"Oh, shit, what if you uncover that you secretly have the hots for Rumple or something..."
Shuddering at the prospect, she pushes herself up off the bed to hang the dreamcatcher dutifully in the window, if only to provide her with an honest response to Ruby's inevitable questioning tomorrow morning.
Please. You'd jump Madame Mayor before you'd go a round with the Dark One.
Pausing in the process of pinning the dreamcatcher in place, Emma blinks as she tries to get that unwelcome notion out of her head with an awkward expulsion of breath.
Padding back towards her bed, she switches off the light, slips beneath the covers, and plugs her phone in to charge. A minute later, the screen casts an eerie green glow as she receives a message.
Ruby. L.
Night, doll. Sweet dreams ;)... xo
Rolling her eyes, she turns the phone over to plunge the room into darkness and pulls the covers up over her head.
"It's all complete bullshit, anyway."
Listening to the engine idle, Emma glances over her shoulder to study the back seat of her car with a frown. It's her birthday, she knows this. It's her birthday and it's late, and after the night she's had, she just wants to indulge in a nightcap and go to bed. It's been a shitty night - a crappy job - and she lowers her hand to touch the tacky stain of drying wine decorating the front of her dress, but it comes back dry.
Oh yeah, that's right...
Yes. She'd changed. She'd changed after suffering a complete mental whirlwind when-
"-Henry?"
She speaks up curiously as her attention returns again to the backseat, but she finds it empty.
"Weird."
She muses, and it is. After all, she knows he's supposed to be there. That's how this scene went before.
"You're dreaming."
She muses, and she's certain that this is the case, but strangely, unlike any other time she can recall when she'd come to this conclusion, she isn't pulled from sleep by the knowledge but instead remains sat inside her idling car - hearing the engine, smelling the damp threat of a storm soon to come, feeling the cold - with the lights of 108 Mifflin Street casting yellowed streaks across the tarmac.
What do I do? Do I go in? Or is that weird without the kid?
She isn't sure, and there's something hellishly obscure about the sense of awareness she experiences as she opens the door and steps out onto Regina's driveway.
"Well... I guess I'm knocking..."
She muses quietly, thrown by the hyperreality of her dream as her breath escapes in visible plumes of mist when she walks towards the front steps with her attention darting from one direction to another as she strives to catch the oddities and fantastical creatures that often play at the peripheries of her slumber.
There's nothing.
Nothing but the remarkably solid wood of the front door she knows so well as she knocks out a beat and takes a step back with her breath held behind the hard line of her lips.
"Miss Swan."
Regina greets her, looking pretty in a belted, fitted dress, and that's right, it's the dress she'd been wearing the night they first met, but she shouldn't know her name yet... Surely?
"Um... Hi."
Emma greets, once more looking back towards the car as she wonders if the kid might have materialised to make sense of this half-accurate scene, but it would seem that they're alone.
Unless...
Remembering another element of that night, she raises a brow and asks curiously
"Is Graham here?"
And the brunette shakes her head as she leads them inside, replying simply
"He's not who you're here for."
"Okay... Um... I-"
"-Cider?"
Regina offers, leading them towards the drawing room, and Emma hangs back uncertainly for a moment before hurrying to follow her before the door can swing closed in her face.
"I'm not sure where Henry is..."
She states awkwardly as she enters the room; readying herself for the rage her admission is sure to grant her, but Regina ignores her statement entirely as she makes her way over to the liquor cabinet in the corner.
"Sit."
She orders with her back turned to her guest, and Emma does as she's told with her hands balled awkwardly inside the pockets of her jacket.
Seeing no harm in expressing her disquiet given that none of this seems right, the blonde shares her unlikely realisation with her host.
"I think I'm dreaming."
"Of course you are. This wouldn't work otherwise."
"Huh?"
"It's a dreamcatcher, dear. Use your head."
"A dreamcatcher?"
"Isn't that why you're here?"
"I-... I don't know. I don't really know what's going on."
"Well, that hardly makes a change, but I'll admit, I'm surprised."
"How's that?"
"I would have thought you'd have figured it out by now."
"Figured what out?"
Emma frowns, and she swallows when rather than offer her an answer, Regina simply hands her her glass with a smile that speaks of danger.
"Drink."
The Mayor instructs as she sits down opposite the blonde, crossing one leg over the other so that the expensive fabric of her dress rides up to show the toned promise of her thigh.
"... I'm not sure whether I should."
The younger woman admits uncomfortably, considering the cider in her glass before looking back up at her host.
"You put something in it."
"Did I?"
"You did before... Back when this actually happened, I mean."
"You can't prove that."
"But Graham said-"
"-This has nothing to do with Graham. It never did, and the sooner you come to accept that, the more enjoyable this will be."
"I-"
"-But that's not the reason you're concerned, is it, dear? Why is it - really - that you don't want to taste what I have to offer?"
Regina asks, gesturing towards the glass in the blonde's hand but never once lowering her gaze from confused green.
"I- I do. I just-"
"-Well, then. Why the fuss? If you want this - which you do - why pretend otherwise? Why deny yourself when you want it so badly?"
"The drink?"
"Ha!... Sheriff... We've known each other far too long for you to pull off such a poor attempt at dumb innocence. I know you well, and I know that you are neither of those things."
"I wouldn't be so sure! I don't-... I'm not sure I'm following you."
"Oh?... Well, then it would appear you owe Miss Lucas an apology."
"Ruby?"
"Indeed... Weren't you adamant in your claim that she was foolish to believe that an old charm written on dusty pages might have the power to open one's eyes to what they truly desire? That it was impossible that one should find themselves unaware of such truths?"
"... I mean..."
Emma falters, taking a hasty sip from her glass in spite of her previous misgivings as her throat suddenly feels very dry and she's not sure she trusts herself to say anything.
Nibbling her lip when she's finished off most of the potent cider, she looks back up at the Mayor and repeats her previous observation uneasily.
"This is a dream. Just a dream. And it makes total sense that it's weird and that you're telling me the things that you are because I went to bed thinking about the charm and how dumb it was. This is just my subconscious creating unsettling scenes out of a stupid decision."
"Unsettling?"
"Uh, yeah, Regina!"
Emma scoffs, laughing at the ludicrousy of the proposed situation.
That laugh immediately strikes her as too loud, too nervous, and she swiftly stops.
"You're lying."
The Mayor accuses softly, and she shakes her head when the blonde pulls a face and opens her mouth to argue.
"You're lying, but only to yourself, so save whatever nonsense you're about to feed me."
"... I'm dreaming."
The Sheriff states firmly, aware that her cheeks and chest are flushed, but she's not sure whether the cause is embarrassment or something less palatable.
Something sinful.
Forbidden.
"You are."
Regina agrees, before leaning forward and adopting a wicked smirk as she demands huskily
"So what's the harm?"
The harm in what?
Emma frowns, and she almost asks the brunette just that, but she refrains as she knows that it would be a wasted question. She knows exactly what Regina's implying, and she clenches her jaw before tipping back what remains of her drink and standing up.
"This is a dream and that charm didn't work. The dreamcatcher didn't work. It's all a load of crap."
She snaps resolutely, before making her way around the coffee table to perch beside the brunette.
"You're only lying to yourself, dear."
Regina repeats pleasantly enough.
"Shut up."
Emma demands, before offering the Mayor a helping hand so far as that's concerned.
Claiming painted lips roughly, she makes a small noise in the back of her throat when Regina cups her cheeks with warm hands - terrifyingly real, terrifyingly present - to deepen her assault, and she reciprocates by threading her fingers into thick waves as she tastes cider on a velvet tongue.
Cruel teeth nip at her bottom lip before soft flesh is released and the Mayor pulls back just enough to drag that abused petal down with her thumb; her eyes dark with wanting.
"You thought about what this might be like that night. Just briefly, but you did. You considered this dress, the scent of my perfume, the timbre of my voice. Me. You wondered what I might taste like, but then you did what you always do and ruined your chances. You said all the wrong things. You mentioned the book. You failed to offer me the manners my standing deserves. You fucked up, Miss Swan, when in reality, you'd have rather fucked me. You pushed those thoughts away and buried them. You-"
-BRRRRTTTTT.
Waking up with a start, Emma fumbles with her phone in a frantic bid to turn off the alarm as it threatens to scramble her brain; her heart hammering wildly inside her chest.
She refuses to acknowledge any bodily reactions she's currently experiencing further south.
"What the hell..."
She hisses, biting down on the pad of her thumb with some force to channel her senses into the present; expelling the taste of apples, the smell of perfume, the feel of-
"-Nope!"
She shakes her head, pushing herself up and out of bed with a great deal more speed than she usually associates with getting up in the morning. Still, today she's getting up with a purpose as she pads swiftly over to the window and yanks down the dreamcatcher with such force that she takes a small section of paint along with it.
"Shit."
She mutters, bending down to feel around for the guilty pin before she ends up stepping on the damned thing. Reaching over for her glasses on the nightstand, she tries again, now with the benefit of sight, and locates the pin beneath the radiator.
"Shit."
She repeats, shutting both the pin and the dreamcatcher inside the draw of her bedside cabinet with enough force to cause the whole unit to shudder.
"... Emma?"
Snow calls uncertainly from downstairs, and the blonde closes her eyes as she takes in a few deep breaths through her nose before answering cheerfully
"Yeah?"
"Is everything alright?"
Is everything alright? I mean, hardly! I only went and bloody kissed Regina because Ruby put weird thoughts in my head, and-
"-Emma?"
"Yeah. Everything's fine. I just knocked something over."
"... It won't stain, will it?"
"No."
She yells back, holding her breath as she waits for Snow to doublecheck, but it appears that the schoolteacher is willing to take her word for it.
"Fuck."
The blonde grumbles as she takes a seat heavily back on her bed, and she considers her surroundings uneasily before reaching for her phone.
Ruby. L.
We sooo need to talk! ;) xo
"I don't fucking think so..."
Emma mutters through clenched teeth, tapping back a reply as the smell of fresh coffee wafts invitingly up from downstairs.
Cant, sorry. I'm pretty booked up today.
Sighing as she supposes this poor excuse means she's not going to be able to drop by Granny's on the way to the station to grab herself a pastry, she narrows her eyes when the waitress promptly responds.
Ruby. L.
It worked, didn't it? :p
Shaking her head, Emma fumbles in her bid to call an end to the conversation.
No. I didn't even dream... Told you so.
Feeling ever so slightly guilty for this last remark, it would appear Ruby hasn't taken it to heart as she accepts the blonde's denial at face value.
Ruby. L.
Aww, shame :(... Well, then I have to talk to you! :o!
Wrinkling her nose as she knows she's putting a dampener on the waitress's amusement, Emma replies firmly
It will have to wait. Sorry.
Sighing as she receives a crestfallen emoji in response, she pushes herself up off the bed and grabs some clothes out of the closet; assuring herself that once she's showered, dressed, and drowned herself in coffee, she won't even remember the troubling exchange that had taken place in her dream.
Nightmare, more like!
Yes.
"Fucking magic..."