Merely This and Nothing More

Hey! Despite the fact that I didn’t remotely mention it on the pending updates post, here’s 7,000 words of SwanQueen PWP. Late Season 1.

Rating: X. NSFW.

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Merely This and Nothing More

Emma Swan blinked against the sun streaming in from the windows and shifted uneasily in her chair. She tried putting her hand up to her eyes. She tried sitting up, slouching and also hanging off either side. It was no good: there was no angle at which she could get comfortable. It was, she supposed, her own fault for being late to the meeting and having to take the last remaining chair. Death by PowerPoint was bad enough without getting a blinding headache as well.

“Sheriff, is something amiss?”

Emma looked in the direction of the slightly mocking voice. Because of the brightness, she could not actually see the speaker, but there was no mistaking the clipped tones of Mayor Regina Mills. There was also no mistaking the fact that the mere sound of the mayor’s voice caused her pulse to kick into a higher gear and gave her that low-down, languid feeling in the pit of her stomach. Okay, lower than that, she admitted to herself.

“I’m fine, Madame Mayor,” she replied with fake brightness. “Didn’t mean to put you off.”

Regina Mills moved so that she was standing between Emma and the window, mercifully blocking out the sun. “Perhaps you’d like to move your chair,” the brunette offered, surprising Emma.

“Uh, yeah, maybe.” Regina never went out of her way to make Emma’s life more bearable, but the smile on her face seemed genuine, if superior. She always looked superior, though: it was Regina’s default setting.

Emma got up and shifted her chair away from the imposing boardroom-style table until it was against the side wall.

“All good?” Regina asked. It almost sounded like concern, but Emma doubted that.

“Yup.” Taking her seat again, she found that the sun was no longer at eye level, but warming her abdomen. She suspected that it wouldn’t be long before it made her hot and sweaty, but she wasn’t going to move a second time and look like a fool in front of her nemesis. She waved her hand in the direction of the screen. “On you go.”

“Now that Miss Swan has given her kind permission for us to continue, let’s go through the figures.” Mayor Mills clicked the remote in her hand and the next slide appeared.

Emma could feel her eyes roll back in her head. So far, being sheriff of Storybrooke was the best job she’d ever had—crime in the town was minimal and involved significantly fewer broken ribs and black eyes than bounty hunting—but it wasn’t all pats on the back or coffee and donuts. Sometimes, it was budget meetings with the other city departments.

She folded her arms over her chest, aware that the Mayor was still regarding her surreptitiously. Her son—no, their son—Henry believed that his adoptive mother was the Evil Queen of Fairytale Land and, while Emma didn’t fully accept his talk of fairy tales and knights and princesses, she couldn’t deny that there was something malevolent about Regina Mills. From the moment Emma had arrived in Storybrooke, they had clashed and clashed again. And she knew that Regina took pleasure in their antagonism. Unlike Henry, though, Emma wasn’t willing to believe that the woman was pure evil. If her years in the foster system and her life’s experience as an adult had taught her anything, it was that both good and evil were present in everyone. The guy who bought the office coffees every morning could be a rapist. Timid female librarians beat their children. Perfectly respectable professional couples returned foster children as if they were an accessory which no longer matched their lives. But, equally, murderers and thugs were capable of astonishing acts of kindness and selflessness.

Henry might think his mother was incapable of love, but her actions showed the opposite. The boundaries that Regina set on his life were those of someone who cared deeply about the man that the boy would become. She taught him manners and basic courtesy, helped him with his homework, and rewarded his good behaviour without spoiling him. Emma had been in enough shitty foster homes to know a good mother when she saw one. For all her other faults, Regina Mills loved Henry. Emma could see it in the way that Regina’s heart broke every time Henry spurned her attempts to hug him. Emma had been there, had been the one who wanted simple human comfort but was refused it, and she recognised that look.

And then there was the other thing, that thing which always lurked between them whenever they met. For all the white-hot anger that Regina inspired in her, there was an equal level of another emotion. It didn’t take too much self-awareness to work out that she lusted after Regina. And it didn’t take Lieutenant Columbo to work out that her feelings were returned.

Emma could almost pinpoint the moment when she first realised that they both knew. She was standing with chainsaw in hand, attacking that stupid apple tree, and Regina was berating her. But then there was the slightest flicker of a smile, a self-satisfied smirk of such absolute knowingness that Emma would have given anything to be able to wipe off Regina’s face. Regina had seen exactly how much Emma wanted her.

But she knew Regina wanted her too because Regina couldn’t hide from Emma’s superpower, as Henry called it. Emma could sense lies. Regina was clever enough to use sophistry and misdirection; however, Emma got a weird shifting sensation, a little bit like vertigo, whenever Regina was lying. When Regina tried to hide her desire from Emma, the blonde felt a passing nausea deep in her stomach. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, just unsettling. But the flaring of nostrils, the slight trembling of hands, and the subconscious glances at Emma’s lips told their own story anyway.

Although it seemed ridiculous, Emma had a feeling that their lives were fated to be entwined by more than just shared custody of Henry. If their son was right and she was the White Knight who would save them all from the Evil Queen, maybe the missing pages from his fairy tales could explain why the supposed saviour wanted to bend her enemy over the conference table and take her repeatedly. Better than that, maybe the book could explain why, in odd moments, she felt such tenderness towards her son’s other mother that it made her afraid that she might be losing her mind.

She tried to focus on the budget report on the screen. The sun was starting to feel nice against her midriff. Regina’s voice was lower than usual, but still animated. She was right, she thought. Regina cared about this shit. She was good at it, too.

Life in Storybrooke wasn’t too bad. She had a job, friends, a son. If it weren’t for Henry’s whole curse business, and an underlying sense of impending doom she couldn’t deny, she could become comfortable, settled. Life could be good.

* * *

“Miss Swan!”

Emma started, opening her eyes and scrambling from her slumped position to sit upright. “What?” she said, her mouth furry.

“People don’t usually fall asleep during my meetings if they know what’s good for them, Sheriff.” Even in her barely-there state, Emma could tell that Regina sounded more indulgent than angry.

“I fell asleep?” She rubbed her face with her hands, willing the blood to return.

“Evidently.”

Everyone else had left and it was just the two of them. Regina was putting the screen away with her usual efficiency. Emma allowed herself a few moments to admire how the expensive, tailored skirt moved and stretched across Regina’s expensive, tailored ass.

“See something you like, Sheriff?” Regina was smiling in triumph over her shoulder.

She was well and truly busted. “No, just thinking,” she lied.

“Really?” Regina walked towards her and propped herself against the edge of the table, folding her arms across her chest and crossing her feet at the ankles.

This view was good, too, Emma thought. It pushed Regina’s breasts up and showed off her legs. Despite her very modern demeanour, Emma was struck by how much Regina reminded her of a femme fatale from 1940s pulp fiction. She had a timeless elegance about her, Emma acknowledged. And that elegance would look even better getting all mussed and messy by being fucked hard.

“And what, exactly, were you thinking about?”

“Work.”

“Work?” The corners of Regina’s mouth twitched and she raised her eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Emma didn’t really know what else to say. Regina was goading her, but not at their usual level of ferocity. Still, she could hardly admit that she was indulging in x-rated fantasies about her.

Regina moved her hands to grasp the edge of the table and leaned forward. Emma swallowed hard. The action pulled the white silk blouse taut against Regina’s breasts. Emma could actually make out the pattern of the mayor’s underwear. She was trying so hard not to look, but it had been so long—too long—since she had had sex.

“Work,” Regina repeated, nodding slowly and looking down at her. Her tongue ran over her lower lip.

Rather than reply, Emma stood. She didn’t like being at a disadvantage, especially with Regina. Standing merely gave her an even better view down the front of Regina’s blouse and she had to force herself to look somewhere else, picking a spot over the mayor’s shoulder.

“Look, I’m sorry about the nap. It was unprofessional. I was on a stake-out last night and didn’t get much sleep and, with the sun and everything, I just—” She sighed and folded her arms. “So, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Regina ignored her apology and stood as well. Her high heels versus Emma’s more utilitarian boots gave her the height advantage once more. She smoothed her palms over her blouse.

“I have Henry’s report card in my office. I wondered if you might like to see it?”

Surprised by the abrupt change of conversation and the gesture itself, Emma mumbled, “Uh, yeah, I would.”

Regina hadn’t wasted time waiting for an answer. She’d started walking, expecting Emma to fall in line behind her, which, of course, she did. She walked just far enough behind Regina that she could check out her ass again. The skirt really did cling in all the right ways, but that was probably Regina’s intent. Everything about her was calculated.

As they reached the mayor’s office, Regina held the door open and allowed Emma to enter first. A part of Emma’s brain registered a small metallic sound, very much like a lock being thrown.

“It’s on the desk,” Regina said.

Emma looked and saw a brown envelope with Henry’s name printed on it in Mary Margaret’s handwriting. She opened it and unfolded the sheet of paper. Her memories of school reports involved printed pages with typed grades, attendance levels and brief comments. She was not at all surprised to find that report cards in Storybrooke were still written by hand—in fountain pen, no less. She smiled as she imagined Mary Margaret in their apartment, her pen to her lips as she tried to find just the right words to capture her students’ performance.

She read the comments with pride. Although Henry was undeniably Mary Margaret’s favourite, she still recognised her son in the comments about his good behaviour and quiet, thoughtful intelligence. That was all down to Regina, and she felt like she should acknowledge it.

“You’ve done a good job with him, Regina,” she said, still reading the report with a fond smile. “He’s a credit to us.” She shook her head. “To you, I mean.”

“Isn’t he?” Regina’s voice was a lot closer than she had expected. Emma hadn’t even noticed the brunette moving to stand behind her.

It was a strange moment of peace in their unending war, but Emma could get used to the feeling of family that it gave her. A small flash of the future passed through her mind, she and Regina sitting together, watching as their son graduated college. She chuckled to herself at the likelihood of Regina ever allowing her to share a moment like that.

“You find something amusing?” Regina’s voice was like warm honey and Emma realised that she was essentially trapped between Regina and the large desk. That wasn’t as bad a fate as she might have once feared.

“‘Henry can be quite forthright when leading class discussions’,” she quoted. “I wonder where he gets that from?”

“You find me forthright?” The question was right by her ear and Regina’s breath was warm on her neck as the brunette peered over her shoulder to read the report card.

“No, I find you an arrogant, self-serving pain in the ass.” Emma tried to sound defiant, but she knew her voice was breathy. It shifted that quickly. She went from her everyday base-level antagonism towards the brunette to aching, coursing want in a fraction of a second. The rational part of her brain, the part that was hardly working, accepted that the desire was there all the time, even when they were apart.

“Do you now?”

“Yes.” She wouldn’t give Regina the pleasure of turning around and acknowledging her closeness. She continued to scan the report, although the words were swimming in front of her eyes. All she could think about was the wetness pooling between her legs and her hardening nipples pushing against the cheap cotton of her bra.

“This kills you, doesn’t it?” The question was little more than a murmur, and Emma’s heart nearly stopped completely as Regina lifted her hand and dragged her fingernail down the column of Emma’s neck from ear to shoulder blade.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she asked, dropping the report card and grabbing the edge of the desk with both hands. She shut her eyes. She was not going to moan. There was no way she was going to moan. She clenched her pelvic muscles, but that just reaffirmed the extent to which she was aching for release.

“Something we both want, my dear.” Regina was dark seduction personified.

“You, maybe, but not me,” she said through gritted teeth. She tried to think of all the reasons why she shouldn’t want this.

“Oh, I know exactly what you want. I see it in your eyes every time you look at me.”

“You’re kidding yourself if you think I—” Her statement was cut off by a loud moan, her own. Regina had roughly forced her hand between Emma’s legs and her fingers pressed against the inseam of her jeans, the heel of her hand resting on her ass.

“I’m talking, Sheriff.” Regina’s fingers flexed just a little between her legs. “Please don’t interrupt.”

It was then that Emma realised that she should have been paying more attention to what she wasn’t feeling, as much as what she was. She had not felt the nausea which usually affected her when Regina was holding back her own desire.

“I know exactly what your dirty little mind wants,” Regina enunciated carefully. She laughed mockingly. “Even without needing to feel your hips jerking against my hand, I know that you want this,” Regina said. “Except, not quite this, eh, Miss Swan?”

Emma shook her head. “No, not this.” At no point had she ever imagined that she would be the helpless one. Her fantasies about Regina—her frequent fantasies, she admitted—involved her being in control. That was what she liked. The last time she had surrendered herself to another, she had ended up with a prison sentence and a child. She had vowed then that she would never give any lover the upper hand. She would take what she needed and leave, on her terms.

Regina’s hand slipped under Emma’s red leather jacket, her fingers finding the hem of her tank top and then the warm skin of her back. Nails swept up her spine. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough that Emma could not stop herself from arching slightly to meet their passage.

“No, you want to be the one doing this to me. I think you imagine that you could just pull me over in your cruiser and have me assume the position. Feet apart, palms out.” Regina’s leg slid between Emma’s and she kicked her ankles. “Feet apart, palms out,” Regina repeated, with more determination.

She hated herself for doing it, but Emma shuffled her feet apart and moved her hands from gripping the edge of the desk to laying flat against it. Henry’s report card was under her left hand, she noted. She pushed it away. Their son had no part in whatever this was.

“Oh, that’s much better, isn’t it?” Emma didn’t answer. “Such an appealing image. Yes, this is what I see in your eyes, only I’m the one pressed against your cruiser while you take your pleasure.” Regina’s left hand was scraping up her sides, edging closer to her bra with every sweep. “Tell me, in these fantasies, do you use your nightstick or just your hands?” She squeezed the juncture of Emma’s thighs for emphasis. “Am I handcuffed?”

“Stop this,” she grunted, aware that she could move herself and stop it whenever she wanted. Her gun was in its holster over her hip and she knew that she could take pretty much anyone in a fight anyway.

“No, not handcuffed, then. Because you want to feel my hands on you, don’t you?”

“Stop. This.”

Regina ignored her and continued, “Do you undress at all or is it just me, wanton and wanting, spread open to you? Are you in your uniform? I think I should like it very much if you were in your uniform. So much more official that way. The big, important police officer and the wayward mayor.”

Emma tried to block out the hot need focused on the point where Regina’s fingers were scratching lightly against her through the rough denim, pressing the seam against her clit. She tried to focus instead on what she could sense from Regina. There was confidence and desire in both her tone and her movements, but there was something else as well, a vulnerability that she could almost taste, as if Regina were worried that Emma would pull away. Images of submission passed through her mind, and she was pretty sure they were somehow Regina’s thoughts, not her own. One of Emma on her knees, eyes downcast, asking to be able to touch Regina wasn’t happening in this world, or any other, she mused.

Regina removed her hand from inside Emma’s shirt, but kept the one between her legs in place, moving slowly but surely. “Jacket off,” she commanded.

She wasn’t going to be ordered around by anyone. “No.”

Regina leaned in and pressed a surprisingly tender kiss to Emma’s neck. “I’m not asking you twice.” It was less a command than a request.

Without turning around, and without thinking about why she was complying, Emma stood upright and pulled her jacket off. She dropped it to the floor, where Regina kicked it to one side. She was about to lean forward again and put her hands back on the desk, when she felt Regina’s hand snake around her ribcage and cup her breast, pulling her body back easily. Emma couldn’t hold the moan in as Regina stroked her nipple through the cotton. And with her jacket removed, she could feel the brunette pressed against her back, the sharp points of Regina’s nipples through layers of fabric.

“Better,” Regina muttered, her mouth finding Emma’s pulse point again and biting hard. It should bother her that she was being marked as Regina’s property. But then it should bother her that she was squirming against the torment of Regina’s hands on her breast and her crotch, and yet she was gyrating like a two-dollar whore, her body silently begging for more. Without thinking, she reached her hand back to grasp Regina’s hip.

“Oh, no, you don’t get to touch me.” Regina paused. “Yet.”

With surprising speed, Regina removed her hands from Emma’s body and pulled Emma’s tank top over her head. She left it around her shoulders, and it had the effect of trapping Emma’s hands against her sides. Another image, this one of being handcuffed by the mayor, passed through Emma’s head. She wasn’t sure whether it was her own thought or Regina’s, but she silently acquiesced, joining her hands together at the small of her back, her left hand holding her right wrist. It was clearly the right thing to do, as she heard a sharp hiss and then felt a finger trail over her hands.

“Smart girl.” Regina put her hands on Emma’s shoulders and turned her around to face her. Wanting to maintain the appearance of defiance, even when her actions had already given her away, Emma tilted her head back and stared up at the ceiling. Regina chuckled in approval. Emma still refused to look down as eager hands unbuckled her belt. “We should put this somewhere it can’t hurt either of us,” Regina said, removing Emma’s gun from its holster and walking around her desk. Emma heard a drawer opening and closing. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it back.”

She was aware of Regina moving in front of her again. “Look at me.”

Despite herself, she dropped her head and looked Regina in the face for the first time since they had entered the mayor’s office. She had expected to see victory, triumph, contempt. She was shocked. Regina’s smile was as arrogant and self-satisfied as ever, but her brown eyes were uncertain, searching Emma’s face for something. Whatever it was, Emma didn’t know if she found it, as she dropped her gaze hungrily to her chest.

“So beautiful,” Regina muttered, her hands dropping to Emma’s bra, pushing it up and out of her way, so that her hands could cover the flesh beneath. As she kneaded Emma’s breasts, she pushed them back until Emma was trapped between the desk and Regina again. Emma lost all sense of time as Regina leaned forward, kissing and nipping at her neck as her hands continued to press against her breasts, teasing and stroking and rubbing. Her mouth trailed a path downwards until she was licking across the slopes of Emma’s breasts. Regina had to keep pushing the bra out of her way, but Emma was in no state to help her. All she could do was look at the dark head against her skin and moan.

Then Regina’s hands were at Emma’s waist, pushing her jeans and underwear down in a single, efficient movement. Grasping the blonde’s hips, she levered her up until she was perched just on the edge of the desk, her feet dangling between them.

Emma tried not to think about the wetness that must be dripping from her onto the desk. She tried not to think about the fact that she had never wanted anyone or anything this much in her life. She also tried not to scream as she felt Regina’s fingers sliding over her abdomen and down to her pussy. As Regina parted her lips carefully, she was actually trembling with need.

“Tell me this, Sheriff, merely this and nothing more,” Regina lifted her head and looked directly into Emma’s eyes, “do you want this?”

Unable to help herself, Emma raised her chin in defiance. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” Regina grinned and glanced between them. Emma didn’t follow her line of sight, but she knew how she must appear, her tank top restraining her arms, her bra pushed up, her jeans and underwear around her knees, and Regina’s hand poised over her. “Surely you understand that this is about me fucking you?” Regina leaned forward until their mouths were almost meeting. They still hadn’t even kissed, Emma thought.

“I won’t beg.” It was a lie. Twenty, thirty seconds more, and she’d beg like a dog.

“I did not ask you to beg.” Regina flicked her tongue out, tracing the line of Emma’s lower lip. “I will not take from you, Emma.” It was possibly the first time that Regina had ever used her first name. “But I need to hear that you want this. Just tell me what you feel.”

Shame and desire, Emma wanted to say. That was what she was feeling. And with each passing second, less and less shame. But she did want this. She wanted Regina so much that her nerves were on fire.

“Say it again.” She cringed at her own pleading tone.

“What?” Regina was amused, but there was a kindness behind her eyes that Emma had never seen before.

“My name.”

Regina didn’t hesitate. “Emma.” She made it sound like the most decadent, sinful word in the world.

“Please.” She looked deep into Regina’s eyes and said it again. “Please.”

Regina thrust two fingers deep inside her, and Emma’s hips came up to meet them as she gave a ragged moan. And then they were kissing. It was hard and without finesse. Her neck craned to allow her to meet Regina’s questing mouth. She opened her mouth and their tongues met.

She had thought that Regina would thrust into her relentlessly, but she seemed content to leave her fingers inside Emma as they kissed. There was only the tiniest fluttering motion inside her, as Regina curled her fingers upwards. The only word Emma could find for the touch was gentle.

She tore her mouth from Regina’s. “Skin,” she grunted.

“Busy.” Regina’s fingers waggled inside her, but she leaned back enough to allow Emma access.

Flexing her arms and tearing some of the seams of her tank top with the pressure, Emma moved her hands to the bottom of Regina’s silk blouse and hurriedly unbuttoned it. The idea of ripping it open occurred to her, but she still feared Regina sufficiently to discard that thought. Unlike her own, Regina’s bra was front-fastening and Emma shakily undid the clasp.

She traced her fingers over the smooth skin, then looked up and maintained eye contact with Regina as she dipped her head to take a hard nipple in her mouth. She drank in Regina’s moan, then closed her eyes and began suckling softly. Regina’s free hand came up to rest at the back of her neck. Emma pushed Regina’s skirt up slowly, her fingers exploring her thighs as she moved. She chuckled against Regina’s breast as her fingers found a suspender belt.

“You like?” Regina asked, her voice unsteady.

“Mmm,” Emma agreed. Her amusement ended when she brought her hand in between Regina’s legs and found that the mayor had conducted her budget meeting commando. “Fuck,” she exhaled. She let her fingers trace along Regina’s lips, revelling in the feeling of wetness making her fingers slippery.

“Here, now!” Regina commanded, tugging at the back of Emma’s neck.

Emma straightened up, bringing her mouth against Regina’s. As they kissed again, Regina’s hand inside her became urgent, thrusting more forcefully and bringing her thumb around to brush against her aching clitoris. Emma wanted to reciprocate, but the angle was all wrong, so she had to content herself with only being able to rub the pads of her fingers against Regina.

“Later,” Regina mumbled into her mouth, removing Emma’s hand from between her legs. And then Regina pulled away from the kiss and pushed Emma down onto the desk.

Emma propped herself up on her elbows and panted with apprehension and arousal, unsure what would happen next. The mayor did indeed look even better when she was suitably mussed from some vigorous sex. Her silk blouse gaped open, showing creamy skin beneath. And her mouth was bruised from their kissing.

“Don’t look so afraid.” Regina grinned down at her, in a manner that wasn’t remotely reassuring. She eased her fingers from Emma and brought them to her mouth, sucking them slowly and thoroughly.

“Fuck,” Emma groaned. It was the sexiest thing she had ever seen.

Regina bent over and dipped her mouth to Emma’s belly, swirling her tongue around her navel. As she did that, she placed her hands between Emma’s knees and pushed them as far apart as the constriction of her jeans allowed. Emma moaned again and lifted her hips in supplication.

She looked down and then back up at Emma. “My, my, Sheriff. We are eager, aren’t we?”

The way they were positioned, Emma could feel Regina’s nipples against her upper thighs. It was a feeling that her imagination could never have produced.

“Regina!” she begged.

“Patience, Emma.” She pressed a series of kisses across Emma’s lower abdomen, her teeth sneaking out to nibble at the sensitive skin.

When her mouth finally closed over Emma’s clit, it was a kiss so tender and gentle that Emma felt she could lose her soul to this touch. No-one had ever been so reverential with her, and she wanted to revel in it, but other instincts took over. She urged her hips higher, trying to force Regina to deepen the contact. She felt a throaty chuckle against her and the reverberations were a new form of torture she didn’t think she could endure.

Her body was shaking, covered in a sheen of sweat. The visual of Regina’s head between her legs was just too much, especially when the brunette lifted her head enough that Emma could actually see her tongue working. She moaned and cursed and gritted her teeth as Regina refused to be hurried.

“Please,” she begged. “Regina, please.”

And finally the brunette brought her fingers up, slamming three inside Emma easily as her mouth sucked hard on Emma’s clitoris. It took only seconds for Emma to scream her release, her whole body tightening and then falling back on the desk limply.

Regina was about to withdraw her fingers, but Emma reached down to clamp her hand on her wrist.

“Not yet,” she said quietly and heard an answering moan, then felt Regina’s mouth against her inner thigh, marking her there. She wasn’t surprised that Regina was so territorial, but she was surprised to find that, not only did she not mind, she took a certain thrill in it. The child in her who had been abandoned so many times welcomed any sign that she belonged.

After a few minutes, Regina finally eased her fingers back out of Emma and stood, smiling down at her as she started putting her clothes back on. Emma propped herself up on her elbows again and smiled back.

“Hey, you’re just going to give me more work taking them back off you again,” she said.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Her tone implied that there would be no further sex that afternoon.

Emma pushed herself back up and reached out for Regina, pulling her to her. “But, you said.”

Regina arched her eyebrow, but allowed herself to be held, Emma’s arms around her waist. “I said what?”

“You said ‘later’,” Emma replied, nuzzling her face between Regina’s breasts and enjoying the little sigh of pleasure her actions caused.

“I didn’t say how much later.” Regina threaded her fingers through Emma’s hair,.

In a small voice, Emma asked, “Do you want me to beg?” She swallowed. “On my knees?”

Regina tugged on Emma’s hair and scowled at her. “Why would you say that?”

“I thought…” She paused and shrugged, feeling embarrassed at saying it and not knowing how to explain the image she’d seen earlier. “Maybe that’s what you wanted.”

“Emma, that’s not how I want you, unless that’s what you want.”

She shook her head. “It’s not.”

Regina laughed. “The uniform, the police cruiser, all of that?” Emma nodded shyly, which was odd considering she was still mostly undressed and had just been incredibly well fucked by the beautiful woman holding her. “We can do that.” Regina kissed the tip of Emma’s nose. “I want what you want, whatever makes you happy.”

The shock of the statement must have registered on Emma’s face. Sex was one thing, but she would never in a million years have expected to hear Regina Mills admit that she wanted to make her happy.

In an instant, Regina’s face also went slack, as she realised what she had just said. She scowled, and pushed Emma roughly away, turning her back and hurriedly buttoning her blouse. “You should leave now, anyway. I have work to do.”

Emma dropped off the desk, pulling her jeans up and rearranging the rest of her clothes. “I’m sorry,” she apologised, not sure why this was her fault, only that she knew Regina was blaming her for her show of emotion.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Miss Swan.” Regina turned around and Emma’s heart sank as she recognised the mayor’s battle face. “You served my purposes quite well, but, on reflection, perhaps not well enough to make a repeat performance worthwhile.”

“Liar,” Emma accused.

“You’re dismissed. Please leave, Miss Swan.”

* * *

Emma started, nearly falling off the chair. “Shit.” Her whole being lurched and she had the distinct sensation that she was about to throw up, a low-down nausea in her stomach that she found very familiar.

“People don’t usually fall asleep during my meetings if they know what’s good for them,” Regina said.

“What?” Emma’s head jerked up and her eyes darted around the room. It was exactly as it had been the last time she woke up, just the two of them, the afternoon sun streaming in the window. Regina was already perched on the edge of the conference table, her jaw set with anger.

“I said, people don’t tend to fall asleep in my meetings.”

Emma stared at her, uncomprehending. Why were they having this conversation again, and why was Regina seriously angry this time? It couldn’t have been a dream, could it? It had been so real.

She scrambled to a standing position, patting herself down. She was fully dressed, and her gun was in its usual position at her hip, and not in Regina’s desk drawer, but her body thrummed and throbbed in a recognisable way. She staggered back, letting the wall support her as she tried to find her composure.

“Whatever have you been dreaming to have you in such,” Regina looked Emma up and down scornfully, “disarray?”

That brought Emma to full consciousness immediately. “What?”

“You, we—” Emma stopped. She didn’t know what to say. Regina looked exactly as she had at the beginning of the meeting, not a hair out of place, not even a flush on her cheeks.

“You’re not making any sense, Sheriff. Although, that’s hardly new, given that I doubt you even finished high school”

“I was—” She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Well, whatever it was, you have been unacceptably rude. These meetings are an extremely important part of the town schedule and, as Sheriff, I expect you to at least pretend that you take your duties seriously.” Despite her harshness, there was something about Regina’s tone and her demeanour that had Emma’s internal lie detector twitching.

Emma breathed deeply, trying to feel the connection between them that had existed in the dreamworld. Something inside her—the same part of her which knew that Regina and she were tied together by more than Henry—told her that she could do it. And then she felt it, under Regina’s projected derision: a mixture of fear and partially-sated desire.

“You were there,” she accused.

Immediately, Regina’s gaze hardened, and she pushed herself off the table, turning away. “The meeting’s adjourned. Feel free to leave, Sheriff.”

Emma followed her and grasped the brunette by the arm, swinging her around to face her. “You were there.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Liar.”

Regina looked down at Emma’s hand restraining her. “Remove your hand.”

“No. Tell me how you did all that.” Her thumb was in the crook of Regina’s elbow and she could feel the mayor’s pulse fluttering. “How was that even possible?”

Her mind was racing. If they had shared what had happened, and there was not a single doubt in her mind that they had, then Henry was right and there was magic in Storybrooke. And his mother, this woman in front of her, was the Evil Queen, whom she would have to destroy. She didn’t want to do that. She wanted to bury her face in her neck and hold her close.

“Remove. Your. Hand.”

She stared at Regina evenly. “Ask me nicely.”

“Remove your hand now, or I’ll have you fired.”

“Say it.”

Regina’s eyes were blazing. “What?”

“I’m not asking you twice.” She repeated Regina’s words from earlier.

They stared at each other for a few moments, each waiting for the other to back down. Unexpectedly, Regina bowed her head. “Please, Emma.”

She reached her free hand up, cupping Regina’s cheek, running her thumb over the smooth skin. There was shame there, she knew, at being the one to cede first and for wanting to give in at all. Emma leaned forward, covering Regina’s mouth with her own and kissing her softly. It was returned with a tenderness that she would never have expected. It never became heated, just their mouths moving slowly against each other. When Emma finally pulled back, she was shocked to find Regina’s hand resting possessively on the small of her back.

She brushed a lock of hair from Regina’s forehead. “I’ll come by the mansion later. After Henry’s asleep.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Regina sounded genuinely perplexed.

Emma shrugged. “I didn’t get my turn.”

“And what makes you think you’re going to?” Regina was trying so hard to maintain her normal demeanour, but Emma knew better and wasn’t about to let her away with it.

“Because I know you want what I want. Because you promised ‘later’. And because I’m not going to let your fears stop me.”

“My fears? I fear nothing—certainly not the likes of you.”

“Okay.” She wasn’t going to argue, even though they both knew Regina was lying.

“I don’t know what you think you know, Emma, but it’s not going to—”

Emma grinned at Regina’s use of her first name, then cut the brunette off by kissing her again. “I know I want you and that I’m gonna have you. That’s a start, I think.”

Regina almost smiled back, but her face darkened. “This can’t last. It won’t last.”

Emma wasn’t sure if she meant their affair, if that was what it was going to be, or if it was an acknowledgement of the curse. There was a battle between them looming, whether literal or figurative. If she really was the Saviour, then she would just have to find to save everyone, including Regina.

“I know,” she said, wrapping Regina in a hug and feeling her immediately stiffen. “I don’t care, though. I’m more of a ‘live in the moment’ girl myself anyway.” She tightened her hold and smiled as the other woman eventually relaxed against her, burying her face in the crook of her neck. Emma wondered if dream hickeys were visible in real life. If so, she was going to have some interesting scrapes and bruises for a few days. And she was okay with that.

“There’s one other thing I have to know,” she said, angling her head back to allow Regina better access to her neck, which she had started to kiss in an already-familiar way.

“Just one?” Regina asked. Emma nodded and let her hand drift down over Regina’s skirt, seeking the hem. As her fingers started to work the material up, desperate to know what the mayor was or wasn’t wearing underneath, Regina’s hand closed over her wrist. “I don’t think so.”

“No fair,” Emma complained.

“Life isn’t fair.” Regina pushed at her chest, ending their embrace. “And you should go. I have a lot to do before I leave and I can’t be late for dinner with Henry.” She grimaced. “I hardly need give him any more excuses to find fault with me.”

“He’s just a kid. He doesn’t know—”

Regina cut her off by pressing her fingers to Emma’s lips. “I know you mean well, but not now.”

She stepped back, hooking her thumbs into the back pockets of her jeans. “So, later?” she asked. Regina sighed, but nodded anyway. “What time?”

“Ten. Henry will be fast asleep by then. I’ll leave the back door unlocked.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

Regina rolled her eyes. “No-one but you has ever been brave or stupid enough to break into my house.”

“Right.” A little embarrassed, Emma opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped. Instead, she turned and walked away. Quit while you’re ahead, Swan, she thought.

“Sheriff?” Regina’s voice had regained its normal haughty tone. Emma paused in the doorway, her back to the mayor, afraid that, if she turned around, she would see that normal hostilities had been resumed. She needn’t have worried, as Regina’s final words were in a voice so low and raw that Emma felt the words rather than heard them.

“Wear the uniform.”

* * * * *

Le Fin

6 Comments

  1. Lyn
    Posted 13 June 2013 at 8.32pm | Permalink

    Wow an update! It’s been a while! Though I’d rather have seen a Spashley update, there’s multi chapter story’s that need to be finished, pleaaaaaase? :)

  2. Gis
    Posted 13 June 2013 at 10.02pm | Permalink

    Agreed, seriously missing some Spashley goodness!! :-)

  3. jsparky
    Posted 15 June 2013 at 12.21pm | Permalink

    Perfect!

  4. spikkels8
    Posted 15 June 2013 at 2.00pm | Permalink

    Wow, i haven’t been on this site in forever.This officially now convinced me to start watching this show… and I shall. What a comeback!! Thanks Dev!!!

  5. Angela
    Posted 18 June 2013 at 1.10pm | Permalink

    :D WOOOOOO a update.
    I’m so happy.
    Loved it.

    Now give me more. :)

  6. tongue-tied
    Posted 25 June 2013 at 7.53pm | Permalink

    Must have read this three times before commenting, for which I apologise. This was such an awesome ficlet, even your pwp is laced with plot! Oh and Very drool-worthy too *fans self*.

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