A/N: It's been so nice to pick this fic back up! I panicked a little with the implication rife in how it was left as I wanted to have some fun with this rather than delving solely into deep 'feels', but I think I've figured out what I want to do with it now :). I knew I wouldn't have time to start a whole new Christmas fic, so I debated between continuing this story and MASQUERADE which is one of my personal favourites, but I felt this one had more to offer in terms of adding a couple of chapters to spread some holiday cheer ;). I hope you'll continue this ride with me, and I'll get the rest of this story up and finished before Christmas :). Comments in the interim would make my day!
"What the hell? What the hell? What the hell?!"
Emma repeats for what feels like the hundredth time as she paces back and forth in front of the sofa with her hands caught in her hair. Pausing for just a moment, she casts an uneasy glance at her guest, before resuming her fraught practice; her heels sounding a nervous rhythm over the floorboards.
Feeling similarly traumatised, Regina rubs at the expensive wool-blend of her dress pants; striving to rid herself of the troubling sensation of warm lace that lingers on her fingertips.
"Calm down."
She orders in an unusually high voice that commands little in the way of obedience.
"How the fuck am I supposed to calm down?! You fucking groped me!"
The blonde snaps, and the darker woman's brow furrows irritably in response as she rubs with increased vigour at the fabric of her suit.
"You kissed me."
She counters accusingly, and Emma shakes her head as she reaches down for her glass in a bid to throw the remainder of her wine back in one swift motion. In doing so, she presents the Mayor with an indulgent glimpse down the front of her dress, and Regina swallows uncomfortably when the blonde points out
"Only because I didn't know who you were!"
"Yes... Well..."
Regina replies in a clipped tone; sincerely hoping Emma won't be stupid enough to elaborate on this fact - and her sole part in it - as she imagines forcing the younger woman down onto her knees with a brutal blast of magic will do little to help their situation.
Even if it's a position I believe would suit her quite deliciously...
Squeezing her eyes shut as she tries to shut out any further imagery courtesy of her mind's unruly wandering, she reasons lamely
"Really, dear... I've been stressed about today, and you've been drinking. Then you brought attention to the mistletoe, and things just... Got out of hand. We're both adults, though, and all this fuss seems a little dramatic... And that's coming from me!"
She allows a jab at her own expense in the hope that it will at least bring an end to the younger woman's fretful pacing; partly because the accompanying noise is beginning to give her a headache, partly because, in doing so, Emma causes her dress to ride up as she keeps her fingers buried within messy gold.
"I-... Fuck. Yeah. I guess..."
The younger woman allows eventually, casting a murderous scowl up at the jolly green sprig pinned above the sofa, before offering the brunette a wary grimace.
"I suppose we've done a lot worse to each other..."
She chances an awkward attempt at a grin.
Yes. Although not in the current context... Sadly.
"Mm. Attempted murder, failed kidnap, some possibly unnecessary insults, and some really rather questionable affronts to fashion on your part..."
Regina agrees, categorically refusing to dwell any further on this last point of contention, just as she refuses to lower her gaze to drink in sinful midnight as the blonde reclaims her seat on the sofa.
"Uhuh. And, then, of course, there's the small incident of the Curse, and magic, and-..."
"And what?... Come on, dear. You added plenty of your own fuel to that fire."
The Queen reprimands haughtily, before thinning her lips as she notes the troubled expression Emma throws down at her glass before she trains that same wide-eyed look of uncertainty onto herself.
"Magic... Did you-... Did you put something in my drink?"
The blonde whispers finally, and Regina grits her teeth as she notes that she sounds almost hopeful.
"I was going to."
She replies, feeling a warm flush blossom from her chest to creep up her throat when the younger woman stares her down; stunned.
"But, you didn't... You didn't add anything? But, I remembered when you-... When we-... But-... I-..."
"Stop."
"I remembered everything when you kissed me!"
"You were asking for it!"
"I remembered when we-... But for that to be possible-... Only true-"
"-Enough! Whatever madness you're planning to impart, I suggest you stop right now!"
"But-"
"-But nothing. There are at least thirty different reasons why you should have remembered the truth when you did; all of them a great deal more likely than the ridiculous notion you were about to utter."
"Yeah?... Name one."
Emma challenges, looking both dazed and distraught as she considers the delicately smeared promise of the brunette's warning pout.
"... You don't understand the nuances of magic."
Regina scoffs eventually, and the blonde nibbles at her lip as she argues quietly
"That sounds more like political fluff than a reason."
"Yes, well, as usual, being around you is making it annoyingly hard to think straight."
The brunette snaps, and Emma sighs as she allows this slight without further argument, before playing the darker woman's words back and raising a brow.
"Uh-"
"-Shut up. I didn't mean it like that."
"Okay."
She nods, unsure where exactly that leaves them.
"You just frustrate me."
Regina elaborates wearily, and the blonde cocks her head as she reasons
"That could be taken several ways..."
"Well, I only meant it in one. Why are you striving to complicate an already ridiculous situation?"
"I just-"
"-You're just feeding into my point! You frustrate me. You annoy me. You drive me half mad, and if it wasn't for Henry and your parents, I would never have come here to blemish the one silver lining to the insanity that took place before you left; the fact that I was finally shot of you."
The Mayor imparts aggressively, knowing that she lies through her teeth.
Knowing that she'd actually come to miss the blonde in a bizarre sort of way.
"... If that were all true, you would have told me to back off and just drugged my wine like you say you planned to. You wouldn't have leaned in, and you wouldn't have shoved your hand up my dress."
The blonde counters, and dark eyes flash with agitation as the Queen tosses back her hair.
"I can think you're a plight on my very existence and still find you marginally attractive... And I didn't 'shove' anything."
Regina mutters, aware that Emma studies her uncertainly as she keeps her own gaze resolutely trained on the blonde's Christmas tree.
"You-"
"-And, incidentally, I wasn't the one bending over and drawing attention to my... Assets... By putting on a show."
"I didn't know who you were!"
"So that's just how you act around strangers, then? I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised."
"Well, not usually!"
"No?"
The brunette scoffs disdainfully, and the younger woman narrows her eyes as she hisses irritably
"Of course not, give me some credit."
"... Never."
Regina replies finally, losing the edge to her tone as she simply sighs warily. Leaning forward to reach for her glass, she considers what remains of her wine with a frown, wishing wistfully for more.
Seemingly on the same page, Emma pushes herself up from the sofa and heads for the fridge. She stops on her way to pick up her discarded sweater, and Regina notes with a queer sense of unlikely guilt that she does so while making a concerted effort not to bend over in any way that might be considered flirtatious.
"Don't."
She speaks up quietly.
"Huh?"
"Don't put that back on... I already have a headache."
The Queen sighs as she gestures towards the garish fabric, but she imagines Emma might be able to read between the lines.
This will only be more awkward if you feel compelled to cover up now, dear. It only draws attention to the preposterous idea that it should be necessary... As though I'm in the least bit phased by the way you look right now...
"Sorry."
The younger woman mumbles, dropping the sweater back onto the floor before completing her journey into the kitchen and pulling an unopened bottle of chardonnay out of the fridge.
Watching pensively as the blonde searches her drawers for a corkscrew, Regina finds this last utterance to be just as unnecessary as Emma's proposed intent to drown flattering black with the synthetic abomination thankfully once more discarded in a colourful heap, and she leans back against the plush cushions of the sofa while speaking up cautiously.
Foolishly!
Leave it now! Dont-
"-I've never seen you like this."
She muses in a tone that gives none of her inner turmoil away, and Emma shrugs as she returns to the sofa and tops up their glasses.
"Well, you wouldn't have, would you? I can hardly run a sting and work bail when the whole fucking town knows who I am, and Granny's doesn't exactly call for anything like this... Although, I know you see that last part quite differently."
"I can assure you, I own nothing like that scrap you're wearing, Miss Swan."
Regina chuckles snidely, but she nips the tip of her tongue as she watches Emma tug distractedly at the hem of her dress. Continuing with a teasing note to her voice while inwardly telling herself to shut the hell up, she reminds the blonde silkily
"And you weren't wearing this as part of a sting. You said you were dressed this way out of spite... To aggravate remarks made about your lack of conduct."
"Well, I-"
"-I'm almost offended that you never felt my barbs were worth the effort."
"Ha!"
The younger woman chokes on her wine, raising a brow as she considers her companion before glancing up at the sprig of mistletoe tacked to the ceiling.
"Probably a good thing, what with the amount of flowers and crap you have dotted around your place. One wrong move and I'd have you copping a feel!"
"Please. I merely touched your thigh."
Regina snaps dismissively, recalling the sensation of warm lace brushing against her fingertips, and because the blonde greets this argument with a low chuckle, she adds a couple more teeth when she next bites.
"Had I done more than that, I assure you, your reaction would have been quite different."
"Mm. I would have come to my senses and considered getting a restraining order rather than just calling you out."
"Hardly... And you wouldn't have done anything before begging me to finish."
The brunette challenges instinctively, and she suffers a moment of regret when her words are left to linger as Emma simply stares at her.
"I'm that good."
She finishes with an excessive dose of arrogance to show that she's merely running her mouth.
Maybe.
Not really.
Swallowing as the silence builds unbearably between them, she rolls her eyes when Emma finally lets out an awkward breath of laughter.
"I have wondered."
The blonde teases dutifully, but when she's met with an equally stunned expression, she assures the Mayor hastily
"I'm joking!"
Maybe.
Not really.
"That doesn't seem wise in this instance."
Regina warns, and Emma takes a nervous sip of her wine as she's inclined to agree.
"I didn't think you even-"
But she pauses as a gruff yip sounds from behind the door to her room, and she responds to it gratefully as she's offered a chance of reprieve from the tension.
"Oh! That's Jack. I was about to take him downstairs to pee before you showed up. I better, uh..."
She trails off, pushing herself up and stalking towards her bedroom with a sigh of relief. Pushing open the door, she waits as a small mutt with scruffy hair pads out into the living room and eyes up the Mayor curiously before he decides there are more pressing matters to be addressed and trots towards the front door to stand beneath the hook housing his leash.
"Go ahead."
Regina shrugs as she watches Emma pull on a coat that provides her with modesty down to her knees. She raises a brow when the blonde opens her mouth as if to say something else, but in the end, the younger woman simply slips out into the hallway with Jack at her heels, leaving the Mayor sitting in her empty apartment with the lights of the Christmas tree bathing the room with a warm glow.
Getting up and stepping towards the window, Regina watches as the blonde steps out into the street and makes her way over to a small grass verge beside the road so that Jack can relieve himself. She spies several people walking past, before a tall man in a mustard-coloured beanie approaches and raises his hand. Watching as Emma reciprocates and proceeds to share a couple of words, she leans forward to track the stranger's movements from the verge to the front door of the building; wondering if he's the man Henry had told her about who had offered to help out with the dog.
The one he'd been fairly sure had taken a liking to the blonde.
"Hmm."
She muses, reclaiming her seat on the sofa as Emma heads back towards the entrance of the building with Jack plodding along behind her.
A moment later, the front door opens and the blonde steps back inside with a shiver as she slides across the deadbolt. Regina watches her do so silently, just as she doesn't say a word when Emma unclips Jack's leash before removing her coat.
"Come on."
The younger woman ushers the mutt, and the brunette narrows her eyes when the blonde stalks past the door to what is presumably her bedroom and opens the one on the far right instead; letting Jack into a small room decorated with toys and posters before closing the door.
Turning back around, Emma swallows when Regina raises a brow.
"He likes it in there."
She explains unnecessarily, and the Mayor nods dutifully; recalling what Henry had told her about Jack generally choosing to sleep in Emma's room.
Seemingstruck by sudden thought, the younger woman loses some of the tension from her stance as she informs the brunette belatedly
"Henry's staying over at a friend's."
"I know."
"Huh? How's that?"
"I saw him earlier... I offered him candy."
"... Just candy?"
"Of course not, it's bad for his teeth."
"... Oh."
"Sorry, I planned to tell you as soon as the wine took effect, but... Well."
"We never got that far."
"We didn't need to."
Regina shrugs uncomfortably, hoping that Emma won't ask her again how that might be as she doesn't have any answers, and the fact sits heavily in her chest like a lead weight. As it is, the blonde appears momentarily preoccupied with her previous admission as she falls onto the sofa with a sigh and stares moodily at the tree.
"Well... I guess that's that, then."
"What do you mean?"
"That's the end to pretending to be normal... Fuck, I'd almost grown kind of good at it."
"You? Good at being normal?"
Regina teases, and the younger woman rolls her eyes as she elaborates
"I thought I'd found a nice new apartment, that I was doing well in my job, and that I'd raised a good kid. I was planning to ask for a week off in January to take a trip to Florida so that we could go to Harry Potter World, but I was wondering if the kid was maybe getting a bit too old for magic... Damn it."
"... You could still go."
"It won't be the same... It's also not exactly the part I'm down about."
"No, I know. But I don't know what to tell you about the rest."
"Yeah... Fuck!"
Emma reiterates, chuckling quietly as she shakes her head and reaches for her wine.
"I guess I should know by now I don't tend to have the kind of luck to just have some strange woman come knocking on my door and accept my advances while offering up several of her own. Things are never that simple!"
"I was unaware that was something you might hope for, dear?"
Regina muses curiously, and the blonde shrugs as she pushes her hair back with a sigh.
"It's been a long night. I guess for a moment I thought I might get lucky."
She mutters self-deprecatingly, and the brunette raises a brow as she studies the blonde from out of the corner of her eye but says nothing.
"Why didn't you push me away?"
Emma asks finally, and Regina maintains her silence for a little while longer, before admitting woodenly
"I didn't want to."
"Oh..."
The blonde replies quietly, looking down into her glass before chancing a sly glance at her companion.
"... Do you like me?"
She whispers uneasily, and the Mayor's response is immediate and snide.
"No!"
"... Yeah... That's sort of what I thought, but-"
"-I don't like you, Miss Swan, I just... For a brief moment just now, you didn't know who I was. You weren't aware of our history, or of the title each of us holds. You weren't the Saviour, you were just... You... I've never really met you before."
"You met me the night I brought Henry home. I didn't know anything other than that you were his mom at the time."
"Exactly. Already we'd accepted titles and roles; already Henry had told you I was wicked, and the fact that you dared to darken my door after throwing him aside meant I saw you in much the same way."
"I didn't-"
"-I know... It was a charged evening, but I didn't fully understand that first night who you were. What you were."
"... You knew tonight."
"Yes, but I've made peace with it. Your role as Saviour has already ruined me, so it's no longer something I spare much concern."
"I-"
"-I'd never had you flirt with me before. At least, not well."
"I never!"
"Hmm."
"I-... I mean-... You reciprocated. You can deny it all you want, but-"
"-I've denied nothing, nor will I try to. I did; I reciprocated. But you instigated."
"Blindly."
Emma points out huskily, and the Mayor shakes her head as she adopts a small smirk before taking a sip of her wine.
"I'm not so sure about that, dear. I believe you were quite taken by what you see."
"I meant-"
"-I know what you meant."
"... You weren't blind in any sense..."
"No."
"So, then...?"
"I suppose I was just curious."
"Curious!?"
The blonde repeats the term incredulously, and, because she really doesn't want Emma to reprise the subject of how in the hell she'd regained her memories without the need for magic - just a kiss... A kiss and that was all; that was it! It's madness! - Regina turns to face the younger woman directly, offering her a blunt and rather surprising answer.
"Yes. I was curious. Just as I was that first night when we met."
"I-"
"-I never drugged you as you seemed so keen to believe. The cider was strong, and I should have warned you of the fact, but I never imagined you would find yourself drooling behind the wheel of your car out by the town line."
"I-"
"-That was never part of the plan. Hell, I wanted you gone! Thus, we can only conclude that you're either a lightweight, or that the Curse had a hand in your rather damsel-like conclusion to that strange evening."
"... I can handle my liquor."
"Yes, so I've seen many times since. You're quite the pro."
"That's not necessary. I-"
"-I've seen you match that poor pirate of yours drink for drink any time he attempts to loosen you up."
"Hook's not my pirate... And, I really don't think that's what he's doing. We just like a drink."
"I'm sure you do, but I'm also sure it's what I've implied... After all, I should know. I never drugged you that night, but I did select my strongest concoction with admitted intent. Sly, yes, but nothing so dastardly as what you then later implied waking up in that cell... I was just hoping to appease some of my curiosity."
"... You tried to get me drunk?"
"Tipsy. Or, at the very least, open to suggestion."
"I-"
"-But, then you went and mentioned Henry's book and ruined the moment."
"We were having a moment?!"
"Certainly. You were trying to get your head around the reckless antics of our son, and I was thinking about how very nicely you might atone for your unwelcome intrusion by lying on your bank and pleading for forgiveness."
Regina shrugs, feeling her chest flush as she wonders whether she should feel shame for such a crude admission, but she decides it's worth it when Emma hiccups on her wine.
"... I guess I never quite got that last part..."
The younger woman laughs breathlessly, her cheeks pink, and the Mayor smirks as she muses silkily
"Mm, well I was rather more refined and subtle than to bait you so brazenly as to suggest that to pass up on any perceived, ah, 'opportunity' would be wasteful..."
She shakes her head with a derisive scowl, and Emma chuckles quietly as she agrees
"Okay, so that wasn't my best line."
"I wish I could believe you."
"I mean... It worked."
The blonde points out boldly, adopting an impish grin when her words earn her a bemused frown, before yelping when the Queen tires of bickering and retaliates in an altogether more carnal fashion; leaning in and stealing a kiss as she retraces her previous exploration of the younger woman's inner thigh, only this time, she trails her fingers further up until they rest unapologetically against warm lace.
Warm, and now really rather damp lace...
"Regina..."
"What, dear? Blame curiosity, stress, your poor decorating choices when it comes to festive accents, or simply step away, Miss Swan... Your move."