A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews, follows, and favorites, guys. I appreciate every one of them. This chapter is a tad longer than usual and a little rough around the edges, but I hope you're able to stick with it.

"You're up early," Mary-Margaret greets from the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of coffee as she watches Emma's fully dressed form trudging down the stairs. "It's Saturday, thought you didn't have to be at the station until noon?"

"Didn't finish with the paperwork yesterday," Emma explains around a yawn, joining her roommate at the counter as Mary-Margaret reaches up into the cabinet for another coffee mug. "The insurance company is being a pain in the ass and trying to screw Granny over, so I'm having to fight them over every stupid shingle that got blown off from the storm Wednesday night."

Mary-Margaret slides the steaming mug across the counter to Emma, her brow furrowing in confusion. "I don't like that Granny is having a tough time of it, but you're not required to fight on her behalf, are you? If it's getting to be too much, then perhaps you should leave it between the company and the diner, Emma," she says soothingly, still a little on her toes around Emma even after she apologized the day before for her behavior Thursday morning, when she had been hungover and irritable.

"Nah," Emma brushes off quickly, leaning her elbows on the bar as she wraps her hands around the mug. "It's alright, I don't mind doing it. Maybe next time they'll think twice before skimping out on someone else if I stay on their asses."

Mary-Margaret nods, stirring creamer into her own cup. If she were to guess, then she would say that Emma is doing this for Granny more out of guilt than anything. Emma had more than her fair share of blow-ups after she was left scrambling around with the assessments and supervising the volunteer groups, and Mary-Margaret has been noticing Emma working on rebuilding the bridges burned the past couple of days.

Well, "blow-ups" might be a bit exaggerated; Mary-Margaret had heard this news from Ruby after all.

From what she had gathered from the deputy's phone call Thursday evening, Emma had apparently been short with everyone after an impromptu meeting with the Mayor in the diner, leading to most of the citizens taking to avoiding her, which only caused more problems when she had been working the crews, which led to more short-fused episodes.

Mary-Margaret stills finds herself desperately curious as to the root of Emma's behavior, but can't summon the nerve to question her about it. Even when Emma had confronted her yesterday morning with a murmured apology, Mary-Margaret couldn't bring it in her to ask 'Why?'. Emma had given her a couple of vague excuses ("I was hungover." "Just had a bad day.") and Mary-Margaret had allowed them to roll over her without question, just grateful to see Emma acting more like herself.

A day later and she can still feel the burning desire to flat-out beg Emma to tell her what's wrong on the tip of her tongue. Emma can apologize and deny and smile all she wants, but Mary-Margaret knows something is troubling her, can see it with every downturn of her lips, every look cast away when she gets lost in her thoughts.

She is beginning to suspect even Emma herself doesn't know.

"So what are your plans for today?" Emma asks, pulling Mary-Margaret from her thoughts.

"Oh, the usual," she answers, gesturing to the pile of papers waiting to be graded behind her on the coffee table in the living room.

"Fun," Emma says dully.

"Probably moreso than what you'll be having to do," Mary-Margaret replies, giving a teasing raise of her eyebrows.

"Yeah..." Emma grouses, slouching a little more. "That is pretty much a guarantee."

After a minute or two of comfortable silence, Emma drains the last of her coffee and sighs before moving to grab her jacket and keys, ready to get the day started and done with. "I should be back by the usual time. Call my cell if you need anything."

"You too," Mary-Margaret says after a moment. "I mean... if you need anything... just call."

Emma pauses at the door, taking in Mary-Margaret's heavy look, then barely gives a flutter of a smile before disappearing.

If Emma had intended the gesture to be reassuring, Mary-Margaret feels that she missed the mark, and the brunette continues to absentmindedly swirl the contents of her cup, still not having drank from it.

xxxxx

"Oh!" Ruby startles, dropping a file onto the floor by her chair. "Emma! I didn't, um, I didn't think you'd be here this early."

Ruby rushes to pick up the papers spilled and stuffs them back into the folder, Emma bending to help grab the strays that had been swept out of reach.

"Duty calls," Emma replies, giving Ruby a light smile as she assembles the scattered reports.

Ruby smiles in return, then quickly diverts her attention elsewhere.

"What are you doing here this early?" Emma asks, handing Ruby the papers and resting her hip against the desk as she scans her eyes over the various folders laying on top of it.

The brunette looks a bit nervous. "Well... I know you've been having a tough go of it the past couple of days... what with the storm and Granny's problems with the insurance guys, so I just wanted to...I don't know," Ruby shrugs, "help out a little? I didn't know you'd be here so soon, so I've only just gotten started."

"Ruby..." Emma sighs, her humor fading as she feels the squirm of guilt making itself known. "That's not necessary, really. I know things have been a little hectic here lately, but trust me, I've got things under control."

The silence from Ruby is awkward, the brunette's gaze shifting to anywhere but the sheriff's, and Emma is further reminded of how much of an asshole she was the other day. She had apologized yesterday at this very desk, but can still feel a thick tension lingering in the air, in the way that Ruby won't make eye-contact with her, won't completely relax in her presence. That Ruby feels she has to go out of her way to keep Emma from flying off the handlebars again is enough for Emma to confront the issue once again.

She runs a hand through her hair and slumps her shoulders a little more heavily as she moves to sit fully on the corner of Ruby's desk.

"Look, Ruby..." she sighs again. "What happened that day-"

"You don't have to explain, Emma," Ruby interrupts quickly, running her thumb along the edge of a folder. "You were under a lot of stress, I shouldn't have pestered you so much and-"

"No, no, it wasn't your fault," Emma cuts across hurriedly. "It wasn't anything you said or did, or anything like that. I just... I can't even explain it, but... please know that you don't need to put in any extra work because of it." She then leans over to slide the folder away from Ruby's fidgeting fingers. "Whatever it was, I'm over it. It won't happen again, and if it does, then feel free to... I don't know... lock me in the back of the patrol car until I've regained my senses or something."

Ruby chews on her lip, letting Emma simmer in another bout of silence as she runs a blood-red nail along a small dent in the desk's surface, seemingly in thought.

"Okay?" Emma prompts, knocking her knee against the arm of Ruby's chair lightly.

Another moment goes by before Ruby looks up at her and cracks a smile more genuine than the one she had given Emma yesterday after her lackluster attempt at apologizing the first time.

"Okay," Ruby states with a nod of her head, causing Emma to reciprocate the grin.

The squirming in Emma's stomach starts to ebb and she turns away to take a confident breath, feeling more at ease now that the air has been properly cleared this time. She hadn't been expecting it to go quite that smoothly. But then again, Ruby is always trying to see the best in people, is always ready to forgive. Now all Emma has to do is not take advantage of those qualities anymore in the future.

Ruby begins tapping her fingers against her chin, at a loss for what to do now, as Emma swings her dangling feet against the side of the desk aimlessly – the repeated thuds counting the seconds that tick by.

Emma turns back to Ruby after a minute, her mouth quirking slightly. "Well, since you're already here..." she drawls, reaching to slide the folder back in front of Ruby before hopping off the desk.

The deputy laughs, giving Emma a knowing raise of her eyebrow as she opens the file.

"You don't have to do much, I plan on getting through most of it today," Emma says, shoving her hands into her back pockets as she begins meandering back to her own office. "You can leave whenever, just give me a yell when you don't want to do anymore."

"Will do," Ruby calls over her shoulder, and Emma fully retreats, intent on calling up Granny to see if she's made any progress with the insurance company.

"Oh! Emma!" Ruby suddenly exclaims, spinning her chair around.

"Yeah?" Emma asks, turning back around.

"What are you doing tonight?" She asks, excitement brewing in her eyes.

"Um... not sure. Why?" The hesitance in Emma's voice barely deters the other woman.

"Me and some of the girls were thinking about meeting up over at that dance place over on Elm. Wanna come with?"

Some of the girls? Emma tries to keep the repulsion from showing on her face, letting her features contort into surprise to cover.

"Oh, um, I don't know, Ruby..."

Emma doesn't have anything against Ruby's friends, but Emma has never really been the "girls' night out" type. Not in the sense that Ruby is speaking of, at least.

"Oh, come on," Ruby presses. "It'll be fun! A Saturday night is not a Saturday night without a little drinking and dancing."

"I think I've done plenty of that this week," Emma jokes, not entirely comfortable with putting more alcohol in her system so soon, especially since she's supposed to meet with Regina tomorrow night. If Emma meets up with her hungover a second time, she's sure things will not end up in her favor. If you're even allowed back over there, a voice whispers ruefully in her ear. Emma ignores it, pushing the heavy thought to the back of her mind without missing a beat.

Another awkward look graces Ruby's face before it quickly disappears into one of understanding. "Well... this time you'll be with friends. And we'll just be hanging out and dancing, there doesn't have to be any drinks involved," she says kindly.

Emma looks away, trying to formulate a good enough excuse to back out. The whole thing sounds as if it would be way too taxing, and playing nice with a bunch of people that she barely knows for hours on end doesn't sound too appealing.

"Please, Emma."

The pleading voice of the brunette coupled with the wide, doe-eyes tug at Emma in a way that makes her regret ever becoming attached to the idea of friendship. She supposes she still sort of owes Ruby, in a way, for the way she acted, and rejecting her now might not be the best option.

"Okay," she sighs, defeated. "I'll come, or whatever." To Emma's credit, she does try to keep some of the moroseness out of her voice.

Ruby claps her hands together as another bright smile lights up her face. "Alright! It's going to be awesome! We're gonna meet up at the diner around nine and carpool from there. Oh, and wear something that requires you to shave your legs."

"I shave my legs regularly, thank you very much," Emma says around an unexpected laugh.

"You know what I mean," Ruby says slyly. "You're always in those jeans, it wouldn't hurt to flaunt what you have, especially tonight. We are going to own the dance floor tonight!"

"Yeah..." Emma answers, once again using a smile to cover up how unsure she is.

A dress. Great.

"Well, let me know if anything changes," Emma says, probably a little too hopefully, before going back to her own desk.

Maybe Ruby's right. Maybe she does need to get out more. Most of her time is spent either at the apartment, at the diner, or at the station. Then again, Storybrooke doesn't exactly bleed "fun", so what else is she supposed to do in such a quiet town? Besides Regina, she thinks wryly.

The Mayor has pretty much been her outlet for any excess energy or anything even remotely adventurous, so she hasn't exactly been bored or craving more in the "getting out" department, but at the same time she can't very well tell Ruby that.

She picks up the phone, a sudden weariness settling upon her shoulders as she dials Granny's number.

xxxxx

"Sheriff's Station," Emma answers glumly. She's only been here for four hours and she is ready to shut everything down and go back to bed. Filling out the same reports again and again, then faxing them again and again, then confirming and re-confirming, has her beat. Her Saturdays are supposed to be relaxing, used for catching up on minor incidents and paperwork. But today feels more like a Monday than anything else and she feels increasingly tempted to put everything off until said day.

"Sheriff Swan," the deep, sharp voice replies.

Emma suddenly lifts out of the tired fog that has been occupying her brain for the past several hours.

"Madam Mayor," she says steadily, her voice going up an octave to rid itself of the gloomy nuance.

"I wish to speak with you about matters of a sensitive nature. Are you alone?"

Emma's brow furrows as her head tilts back in confusion.

"Umm, give me a second." She sets the phone down and moves around her desk to quietly shut the door, becoming a little more anxious with every step back to her chair.

"Okay, what is it?" she asks, a hesitant lilt making itself known.

"Tonight."

A pause surfaces as Emma awaits more information. Tonight? What is that supposed to mean?

When Regina isn't more forthcoming, Emma sighs, suddenly impatient. "What about it?"

Another suffering sigh sounds from the other end, as if Regina thinks Emma stupid for having to go into more detail, causing Emma to immediately bristle.

"Tonight. I've changed the evenings."

"Changed the..." Emma is briefly perplexed. "What?"

"We will be meeting on Saturday evenings instead of Sunday evenings, per your request. Do you have an issue with that?" Regina snaps.

Emma's eyes widen and her mouth gapes before snapping it shut again, collecting herself. "No, no... that would be great." Regina is inviting her back, Regina has even moved the days, Emma almost can't believe it. She thought she would have to press the issue for weeks before Regina would so much as budge, if the other woman hadn't barred her from the premises completely. Which clearly isn't the case, she thinks, feeling a little smug. The thought of no longer walking into work on Monday mornings looking and feeling like absolute shit from sleep-deprivation is already making her day that much brighter.

A swell of gratitude rises and before Emma can stop herself, words start tumbling out of her mouth. "Um... thanks... thank you... for, uh, moving the-"

"Same time," Regina cuts in sharply. "Don't be late."

Before the feeling of annoyance at being interrupted has a chance to fully register, Emma feels a hard twist in her stomach as she suddenly remembers her other plans for the night.

"Oh, wait!" She says hurriedly into the phone, sensing the impending hang-up. "I might... have somewhere else I have to be tonight," she continues, somewhat sulkily.

"Somewhere else?" The voice questions.

"Yeah... I, um, made plans with Ruby."

The silence on the other end lasts too long for Emma's liking.

Then an impassive, "I see," makes its way across.

Emma rolls her eyes, knowing what that means.

"I didn't know you were going to spring this on me," she tries. "Otherwise I wouldn't have agreed to go. It's just some dance thing and then-"

"Don't bother boring me with the details, Ms. Swan," Regina cuts across lazily. "Will you be able to make it tonight or not?"

Emma grits her teeth. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Regina snaps, her bite returning. "I go out of my way to rearrange this and you leave me with 'I don't know'?"

"Hey, it's not my fault you suddenly gave enough of a damn to do it," Emma fires back. Almost immediately she wants to take back her words. She's learned to not look gift horses in the mouth as far as Regina is concerned, and should know to just take the random acts of kindness and walk away. Calling Regina out on her inconsistencies only serves to bite Emma in the ass because then the other woman feels she has something to prove.

"Well, far be it from me to do you anymore favors," Regina replies, acting as if she's just been spat on. "Far be it from anyone to do anything for you with the way you repay them."

"As if I don't repay you in other ways, Regina," Emma murmurs darkly, not willing Regina to think of herself as some sort of saint.

"Oh, yes, you've been so grateful, so appreciative lately," Regina snarks. "The fact that you even still have your job should have you thanking me-"

"On bended knee?" Emma interjects harshly, feeling a stab of irritation at Regina always trying to distance herself from talking about what they do, always twisting the dirty details into some sort of 'professional standard'.

"Ms. Swan, either you're coming tonight or you're not," Regina breathes after a few moments.

Emma recognizes the sentence for what it is, and while she feels close to telling Regina to 'fuck off' and be done with it, she can feel the underlying want stirring more ferociously, outstripping any nerve she would have to say such a thing.

"I'll... do my best to be there," Emma says, a seethe still present in her tone. "If I'm not there by the usual time, then I'll just see you tomorrow night."

"You're going to have to do better than that, Ms. Swan. I run on no one's time but my own," Regina replies. "And I'm afraid that I have already made plans for tomorrow evening, so if you don't come tonight, you won't be expected until Wednesday."

Emma shifts the mouthpiece of the phone away as she drags a hand tiredly over her face and lets her chin rest in the palm of it.

She very heavily doubts that Regina has made plans for tomorrow at all and believes that the other woman is simply trying to force her hand, make Emma choose between her and Ruby. The very idea makes Emma want to laugh, maybe even dare to call Regina out on her schoolyard behavior.

"I'll be there," she drones instead, part of her still hesitant to add to the hostile friction that has been between them this past week. While Emma had apologized to everyone else for that day, she conveniently left Regina out, knowing that they are beyond apologies at this point.

"Good," Regina says stiffly. "Do not be late."

Even after Emma hears the click signaling the Mayor has hung up, she still keeps the phone pressed against her ear, almost tempted to call her right back and cancel. But after another moment, she drops it back into its cradle with a clunk and rubs at her eyes.

Picking one person over the other isn't exactly an easy decision, but in this case it should have been, considering the weight of both circumstances and how they differ. Choosing to either help repair her friendship with Ruby or get lucky with the Mayor should have made the choice glaringly obvious, easy on such a moral level.

But why should Emma pick just one when she can have both? She quickly formulates the times in her head, realizing that while she may not have much in terms of wiggle room, she should have just enough to pull off what has quickly become a fairly busy evening.

xxxxx

"Whoa! Emma, you look hot!" Ruby says with delight, her eyes bright as she sees Emma walk rigidly into the diner.

"Thanks," Emma mumbles, pulling the hem of her dress down. It feels as if it has shrunk since she last wore it those many months ago on her birthday, when Henry had arrived in Boston to give her the shock of her life. She's lucky she even found the heels to go with it.

"Red looks good on you," Ruby says appreciatively before turning to face three other girls circled around a table. "Everyone this is Emma, obviously, and Emma this is everyone. Looks like we're good to go!"

Emma gives a small, polite smile at the hasty introduction, noting that Ashley is the only one she truly recognizes and sort of knows out of the three, and gravitates towards her and Ruby as they file out of the diner and pile into a car.

Once they've made the drive over and have made it inside the surprisingly crowded, noisy club, Emma doesn't hesitate to order herself a beer. She feels Ruby's eyes on her as the bottle is set down in front of her at the table they are gathered around, and Emma goes out of her way to avoid Ruby's gaze as she takes a swig. She doesn't feel as if she has anything to feel ashamed about, it's a beer for fuck's sake, but she can't help the part of her that feels flustered and judged for it.

The brunette seems to sense this and she leans over to grasp at Emma's arm, giving her a reassuring smile as she clinks her martini glass with the lip of Emma's bottle.

Almost immediately Emma feels herself relax, her gratefulness showing on her face as she gives a thankful smile in return. She knows she probably shouldn't be indulging in alcohol after the last time she helped herself, but she firmly believes everything before Friday had been a fluke; the cards had been stacked against her just enough to blow up in her face, and just because a little Jack Daniels had been involved that doesn't necessarily mean that she has to swear off the drink completely.

The drinking has to be kept light tonight anyway because of Regina. Emma takes another hearty gulp as the woman's stern, pinched face slides into view among the other thoughts and images circling her mind. If Regina were to walk into the club right now, she has an idea of what the Mayor would say.

"Really, Ms. Swan? Again? Haven't I told you once already that you will not be allowed inside my home under the influence?"

Emma gives another roll of her eyes at the thought. She plans on having two, maybe three, beers at the most; getting drunk isn't on her agenda tonight.

Emma watches as one-by-one the girls she had come with begin to head off in the direction of either the dance floor or the bar. Ruby tries to persuade her to join the crowd at the floor, but she politely refuses, lacking the energy to form graceful enough movements permitted for the occasion.

The night wanes on and she continues to bide her time alone at the table, hovering over it as she sips steadily at her second bottle, checking the time on her phone every 10 minutes or so. Emma has no doubt that Regina will lock her door if she is so much as a minute late, so she makes sure to keep careful track.

"Wanna dance?" A gruff voice suddenly asks in her ear.

Emma flinches away, turning to look at the man who is hip-thrusting his way into her personal space.

"Um, no thanks," she yells above the music, shuffling a few steps around the table. "Not in the mood."

The guy shrugs his shoulders, never stopping the motion of his body as he gyrates over to the next woman. Emma feels her lip curl in disgust as Ruby makes her return.

"Not having a good time?" Ruby asks breathlessly, her brow creased in concern as she downs the last of her drink.

"What? Oh, no, I'm having fun," Emma replies in a rush, attempting a wide smile. "Just trying to deal with the more... enthusiastic crowd." She gestures over her shoulder.

Ruby gives a raise of her eyebrows as she signals for another martini. "Ah. Yeah, I ran into that guy earlier, definitely on the skeezy side."

Emma nods, drumming her fingers along with the beat of the music on the table's surface.

More time passes and she watches as Ruby takes the final gulp of yet another glass (Emma has been too distracted to keep proper count), and as Ruby catches her eye, Emma realizes that she is too slow in lifting the corners of her mouth.

"Emma, are you sure you're alright? I can drive you home if you've had your fill," Ruby says, her words slurring slightly as she once again grabs at Emma's arm.

"No, Ruby, I'm fine. I swear." Emma really doesn't want Ruby to think that she's not enjoying herself because then this whole thing will have been for nothing. She just needs to put up a brave face against the stale, sweaty air of the club for a little bit longer.

"Just a little restless, is all," Emma adds, seeing Ruby's skeptical look.

"Oh! I know! Let's do shots!" Ruby says excitedly, gripping Emma's arm with painful enthusiasm.

Emma grimaces. "I don't know if-"

"I'll be right back!" is all Ruby gives her before she disappears to the bar.

Emma sighs, the act of not wanting to let Ruby down warring with what Regina would say. Then she gets the thought that maybe a shot or two couldn't hurt, she's obviously uptight and still a little uncomfortable. Relaxing a little more wouldn't mean the end of the world.

A couple minutes pass by before Ruby returns. She stands opposite Emma and gives her a devilish grin, tapping the nails of both hands eagerly against the tabletop. Only seconds later another woman sets a tray down between them and Emma is slightly shocked to see ten shot glasses spread out on its surface.

Five shots? Ruby expects her to do five shots? Emma laughs with disbelief as Ruby places a glass in front of her and takes one for herself.

"Some of these are for the other girls, right?" Emma asks, sounding unsure, the heady smell of the tequila immediately engulfing her as she lifts the shot to her nose.

"If there's any left over," Ruby says with a wink, downing her first shot.

Emma smiles obligingly before letting the feature fade as she stares down at her glass, not knowing why this feels like such a do-or-die moment; it's not life-altering by any means. She doesn't know why she's preventing herself from having a good time – because surely that's the only outcome... right? As long as she's not completely plastered by the time she gets to Regina's, then she'll be fine. And it's not as if she's drinking out of fear or because she's meeting up with Regina, she's just spending time with friends.

Emma doesn't give any more thought to the matter as she knocks back the tequila, slamming the glass back down on the table to the cheers of Ruby.

"Alright! Another!" Ruby shouts.

This time Emma grabs her own shot, licking the remnants of the previous one off her lips.

"We should toast to something!" Ruby continues, staring around aimlessly as she thinks of something worthy.

"Um... good health?" Emma offers lamely, lifting her glass.

Ruby snorts. "Okay, um, to good health and to... uh... whatever else!" She sloppily clinks her shot against Emma's, dumping some of the liquid out on the tray, before they both knock them back.

"Whoa! Save some for the rest of us!" One of the girls that accompanied them says, snatching a glass for herself.

"Help yourself," Emma says, pushing the tray towards her. Two shots are enough for her, she thinks, smacking her lips together against the tingling of the tequila.

"Where are the others?" Ruby asks the other girl, already taking another tequila shot for herself.

"Beats me," the girl says with a shrug, grabbing another glass off the tray before heading over to another table.

Emma glances around, spotting the curly blonde hair belonging to Ashley at the edge of the dance floor. "There's Ashley," Emma points out, but Ruby appears to be too distracted with her martini straw to acknowledge anything said. Emma just raises an eyebrow and lets her gaze wander some more.

"Well, I'm gonna head back out to the floor," Ruby says, moseying the short distance around the small table to place a hand on Emma's shoulder and lean in.

"Join me," she whispers teasingly.

Emma laughs, not unfamiliar with Ruby's overly-affectionate tendencies with everyone. It took her a few weeks to get used to it when she first decided to stay in Storybrooke, but now Ruby's exaggerated touches and words have become almost second-nature to her when around the brunette.

"I'd love to Ruby, but I'm about to leave," Emma replies, leaning back enough to catch Ruby's pout. "I had a good time, I really did. I just need to catch up on some stuff and get some sleep."

Ruby lets her hand slide from Emma's shoulder, looking mildly disappointed before giving her a playful shove. "Alright, glad you were able to get out for once. We'll have to do this again sometime."

"Definitely," Emma says, inwardly hoping Ruby is talking about a weekend far off into the future. She chances a glance at her phone to check the time and has to struggle not to show any outward emotion when she sees that she is running behind... very behind. She swore she just checked her phone 5 minutes ago; where the fuck did the time go?

"Shit," she whispers under her breath, shoving the device back into the ridiculous clutch she had to bring since she is without pockets.

"Oh, but at least do one last shot with me!" Ruby continues, oblivious, pulling the tray back over to them and taking two glasses out of the three left.

"I think I've had enough," Emma tries, scooting the shot away.

"Emma, come on," Ruby pleads. "Just one more to end the night."

Emma knows that Ruby won't let her leave without a fight otherwise, so she begrudgingly takes the tequila and empties the glass in one swallow, Ruby doing the same not a second later.

"I really have to go now," Emma says around a small grimace. "I'll see ya on Monday, try not to get into too much trouble while I'm gone. But – hey, be sure to take a cab home, okay? You can always pick the car up tomorrow."

"I know, I know," Ruby waves off with an indulgent grin. "Don't get into trouble either!"

"I'll try my best," she answers, the image of Regina surfacing once again as she starts weaving her way towards the exit.

xxxxx

Emma has the cab driver drop her off a block from the Mayor's mansion, just to be safe, and waits until he drives off to start walking in its direction.

She begins regretting her choice of footwear after 30 seconds, but focuses on the dull throb of her feet to help clear the gentle fog that has settled over her. Far from feeling the drunken haze of a few days ago, she instead feels the small heaviness of relaxation spreading throughout her limbs. As pleasant as the feeling is, she still wishes to keep her wits about her, keep herself on her toes to face whatever lays ahead of her.

Part of her wants to laugh at herself. It's not as if she is going into battle or setting off on some dangerous mission. She is just... returning to the house where she had drunkenly entered without permission... to the bedroom where she may or may not have been stripped and put to bed like a child... to the woman who bore witness to one of her lowest points...

Emma kicks at a random pebble, her expression turning sour and her amusement fading as she inwardly berates herself for delving into that line of thinking. She has already dealt with this and put it behind her. There is no sense in trying to shame herself, not now.

After a few minutes, she makes it to the front gate, opening it enough for her lithe frame to slip through, and carefully shuts it to avoid the rusted creak it's been known to give off.

Emma glances up at the mansion's many windows and sighs as she catches sight of the scuff marks lining up a small section of the Mayor's house in the dull glow from a nearby streetlight, no doubt remnants from her boots from when she had scaled the structure.

Emma shuts her mind off to the rest of the subtle reminders that flash at her here and there of that night as she walks across the concrete slabs, not willing to give them enough thought to intrude upon her current mindset of getting inside and taking what has been offered to her.

But first thing is first... She must be able to get through the front door.

She walks up the hard, unforgiving steps, her feet pulsing in protest within the tight confines of her shoes, before making it to the dismal welcome mat and glancing briefly at it out of habit. Emma is aware that she's not too atrociously late, but the heavy thought of Regina maybe having locked her out slips to the forefront of her mind. The nice buzz she had attained from the club keeps her from feeling too nervous, and it's with ease that she grasps the handle and turns it, allowing herself to smirk in victory when it turns all the way and the door opens.

Autopilot takes over as she crosses the threshold, and in seconds she is closing the door, locking it, and removing her heels, carrying them as she makes her way quietly up the staircase.

She takes it as another good sign that the hallway lights have remained lit, her shadow casting at odd angles as she turns one corner, and then another, softly padding her way to Regina's bedroom door. It's open a crack and Emma gently pushes it to allow herself fully inside, the moonlight streaming through the windows allowing for natural illumination.

It's not until she has set her heels and clutch on the floor that she realizes Regina isn't in the room. She glances towards the bathroom, but sees only darkness underneath the door. After a few more seconds of looking around, Emma slowly moves to sit on the very edge of the bed.

Regina has never not been in here before when Emma has arrived in the past, but stranger things have happened, so she chooses to wait, having to awkwardly keep reminding herself to keep her legs closed while in her current attire. The idea of removing the dress altogether tempts her, but then again, Emma's not even sure that Regina knows she's here in the first place – her walking in to find Emma completely naked in the middle of her bedroom might be a bit of a shock.

Another minute or two passes and Emma decides to settle more comfortably on the bed, scooting back so that her knees are dangling over the edge. It's not long after that that she begins swaying from side to side in an impatient cadence, her mind becoming dulled somewhat from the tequila.

Maybe Regina isn't even here, she thinks idly. Maybe she left after Emma failed to show up on time. Emma turns to look at the clock and scoffs. She's only half an hour late, Regina couldn't have been pissed enough to leave over that. She lets herself fall back completely on the bed and stretches, interlacing her fingers behind her head as she continues to entertain more precarious thoughts.

If Regina did leave, then where would she have gone? This is Storybrooke, everything is pretty much closed by this time of night. Everything except the club on the other side of town, Emma suddenly remembers. She laughs out loud, her addled mind imagining Regina trying to fit in in a place like that. She doubts the woman would make it to the parking lot before passing out from the fumes alone.

After taking a few seconds to settle herself back down, Emma gets back on track, blowing a few strands of hair out of her face. If Regina had left, then chances are she wouldn't have left the door unlocked... especially with Henry being here. Emma feels a jolt as she suddenly remembers her son. Of course, Regina wouldn't have left, not with Henry in the house.

Her lips form into a hard line as she listens for the sound of the boy's footsteps, regretting her earlier outburst. Considering the, uh, other sounds that have come from this room at much higher volumes, she doesn't think she has too much to worry about and isn't surprised to hear nothing but the continued silence.

Breathing a small sigh of relief and relaxing once more, Emma drifts back into thought. Now that she is certain Regina is somewhere in the house, she begins wondering where the other woman has gotten off to. She briefly wonders if she should go look for her, maybe check to make sure Regina didn't fall and break a leg or something.

Even as she thinks it, Emma knows she won't be moving from this bed anytime soon. If Regina is hurt then she'll just have to suffer because Emma is far too comfortable at the moment.

Or was comfortable. Her feet and calves are starting to become tingly and numb from hanging restlessly over the edge of the bed, so she starts mindlessly kicking and swinging them against the side, her impatience increasing. She is starting to come to the conclusion that Regina has no intention of coming up here at all, making Emma wait for nothing as payback for being late.

The thought alone has Emma tensing, an anger beginning to stir within her. Maybe Emma should go back downstairs and search for Regina, give her a piece of her mind for the attempt. Or better yet, maybe she should just leave.

"Classy."

Emma jumps, lifting herself up on her elbows at the sound of the familiar timbre, deep and resonating. Regina is leaning against the doorway, still in her work clothes – if the black pants and plain, white blouse are anything to go by – as she sips from a glass of wine.

Emma takes another second to register Regina's greeting and the mocking, judgmental pinch of the other woman's face and, with a blush, closes her legs, pulling the hem of her dress back down as she sits up.

"About time," Emma mutters, scooting to sit on the very edge of the bed once again.

Regina cocks her head to the side. "Funny. I was just about to say the very same thing."

Emma rolls her eyes, knowing she doesn't have an argument against that.

"I didn't hear you come in," Regina continues, abandoning the pedantic pretense and walking fully into the room to set her glass on the bureau and begin removing her jewelry.

"Means my entrance was a success," Emma says dryly. "Where were you anyway?"

"In the study. I thought it would be a good use of my time to get a head start on some work affairs after I dropped Henry off at a sleepover." Emma's eyes dimly light up as she realizes that they have the house to themselves. "After you failed to be on time, I decided to continue working rather than wait for you up here. You are normally not as quiet as you were this evening, so your entering went unnoticed."

"Took my shoes off," Emma explains with an indifferent shrug. "Wait, you assumed I'd still show, even after being late?" She asks suddenly, a little snide.

"Of course," Regina states confidently.

Emma nods, mockingly mouthing 'Of course' to herself as she moves to stand up. "So you've been in the study all evening? That why you're still dressed to the nines?" She asks, watching as Regina begins removing her earrings.

Regina eyes Emma's reflection in the mirror, her look knowing and smug. "Mm... not quite as much as some." Emma catches the heated once-over as Regina adds, "Nice dress."

Emma self-consciously tugs the hem down again as she mumbles, "Dance thing..."

"So I've heard," Regina replies smoothly. "You seem coherent enough. I take it you didn't overindulge this time?"

"No," Emma responds automatically, crossing her arms. She walks the few steps to the bureau and leans her hip against the side of it, now somewhat facing Regina as the other woman gingerly removes her necklace. "I didn't."

"Hmm... your breath says otherwise," Regina says, her nose wrinkling.

"A couple shots doesn't count as overindulging in my book," Emma says unimportantly, leisurely grabbing at Regina's wine glass to take a sip for herself. Generally speaking, she's not a wine person, so she's mildly surprised at the agreeable flavor.

"Proof that not everything has to burn a hole through your stomach for you to be able to enjoy it," Regina says, catching the impressed raise of Emma's eyebrows.

Emma stares at her for a moment, swirling the contents of the glass, before shaking her head with a muttered, "Whatever."

Regina merely smirks in response, and once she has placed the last of her jewelry away, she takes the glass out of Emma's hands and finishes the last mouthful.

"Hey!" Emma can't stop the scowl from forming. "I barely got any of that."

"I really like that dress," Regina says, ignoring Emma's petulance as she roves her eyes over the tight, red material. "It accentuates your features more gracefully than the grunge that you usually wear."

"Thanks," Emma deadpans. "But don't expect to see it around again though, or any dresses for that matter... just a one-off thing," she continues, absently smoothing her hands over the non-existent creases, unsure of whether Regina is listening to her or not.

Regina reaches forward to run a single finger down the side of the dress, stopping at Emma's hip before drawing her nail back up to brush against the side of a covered breast, setting the empty wine glass back on the dresser beside her with her other hand.

Emma sees that they've finally come to the point of the evening that they have both been waiting for, can see it in the dark glint of Regina's eyes, and she holds a hand up to stop Regina's advance.

"Seriously, do you have anymore of that stuff? I mean, since we don't have to be at the office tomorrow it couldn't hurt to have a little more-"

"Ms. Swan."

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever shut up?"

Emma smirks, Regina's impatience never failing to amuse her, especially now, when Emma is in control of what Regina wants. The faint idea of making the brunette work for it slips into her mind.

"Only when it suits me."

"I think it would suit you quite wonderfully now," Regina murmurs, bringing both hands into play as she rakes her fingers down Emma's sides once again before dragging them back up to squeeze at Emma's breasts.

"I'm inclined to agree," Emma breathes, reflexively pushing herself into Regina's hands. Having control and wielding it are two very different animals as far as Emma is concerned, and she knows that in this moment, with Regina's insistent, greedy hands on her, she has no inclination to challenge the other woman. Far from feeling weakened because of it, she draws on Regina's determined energy and puts her own hands to work, reaching for the buttons of Regina's blouse and haphazardly tugging them open one by one.

"Careful, you'll snag them," Regina snaps, her seductive tone deflating.

"As if you can't buy another shirt," Emma drawls, plucking at the rest of the buttons with little care.

"That's not the point. You don't see me risking damage to your outfit," Regina retorts, running her hands firmly up, down, and around as she gropes Emma over the material.

Emma undulates her body along with the movements of Regina's questing hands. "Only because you have some sort of weird fixation with it."

"I do not," Regina huffs, pulling Emma closer.

"You've barely looked above my neckline the entire time I've been here," she says, slipping her hands inside the now-open curtains of Regina's blouse and grasping her waist.

"Always with the exaggeration," Regina mutters.

"Always with the denial," Emma whispers back.

The conversation is brought to an abrupt end as Regina clutches the back of Emma's neck and pulls her forward, physically quieting her as their lips smack ungracefully together.

Emma doesn't hesitate to pull the plump bottom lip into her mouth, teething on it as she fumbles with the buttons of Regina's pants. Her venture is made more complicated as Regina turns them around and starts steering them towards the bed, shuffling Emma backward with her hips and hands.

"Mmff, the dress," Emma pants, breaking away from Regina's mouth. She knows it will be hell trying to strip it off once she's in a horizontal position, so she reaches for the zipper.

But Emma is cut short of her destination as Regina grabs her wrist, twisting her arm back around and returning it to the fastenings of her slacks.

"Keep it on," she whispers, almost breathlessly.

Emma shivers over the surge of arousal that alights her spine at Regina's words, and yanks at Regina's pants, popping the button off completely. Regina lets out a frustrated breath, leaning back to pull her shirt the rest of the way off before grasping the hem of Emma's dress and rucking it up, allowing enough room for Emma's legs to spread so the brunette can situate her body between them as they fall heavily onto the bedspread.

The weight of Regina's body against hers causes Emma to arch, raising her hips against Regina's own to form a small friction as the Mayor busies herself with nipping and sucking at the top swells of Emma's breasts. Emma briefly regrets that the dress itself isn't a strapless, it would be so easy for her to roll the fabric down a little more, expose more of herself to Regina's hungry mouth. She has half a mind to rip the thin straps right off, but can already hear Regina's horrified gasp if she were to desecrate the one thing she owns that the brunette considers to be decent.

She brings her hands up to Regina's sides, gliding them up and over the smooth skin of her back, digging the tips of her fingers against the muscles she feels shifting beneath her touch, and Regina groans. Emma repeats the movement, the breathy sighs puffing against her overheated skin causing goosebumps to form. As her fingers snag on the material of Regina's bra a second time, she begins working at the clasp of it, taking only seconds to unhook it and begin dragging the straps over Regina's shoulders.

"Up," she breathes, tapping Regina's right arm. Regina lifts it without hesitation, the material sliding down and off, before the brunette flings it off the bed with her other arm. She then settles back against Emma, her tongue licking a line up the blonde's throat as her hands run continually up and down the blonde's sides.

It's Emma turn to groan as Regina's bare breasts press against her and she feels the nipples rubbing through the material of the dress. The temptation to tear the dress off makes a reappearance, but again she fights it. She then slides her legs up to find a more pleasing angle, her dress inching up even more, and Regina obliges by rotating her hips in short, rhythmic thrusts, causing Emma to give a low, appreciative moan and slide her hand between Regina's shoulder blades.

She can feel the slacks still clinging to Regina's hips and while it doesn't bother her the first few minutes, it soon starts feeling abrasive against the skin of her thighs, taking only another couple of minutes for it to become downright chafing.

Before she can think better of it, she brings her feet up and begins trying to crudely shove the material off with her toes, her impatience tripling with every unsuccessful push.

"Ow," Regina gripes from the crook of her neck. "Could you be anymore of a brute?"

"If you would just work with me," Emma grumbles back.

After several indignant huffs, Regina is able to shimmy out of the slacks and underwear without breaking contact too much, kicking them off the end of the bed. As she stretches her nude form over Emma's clothed one, resuming the roll of her hips, she catches the small scowl being sent in her direction.

"Is there a problem, Ms. Swan?" She asks, slightly patronizing, dipping low to nuzzle at Emma's cleavage with her nose and flicking her tongue out against the dampened skin.

Emma swallows over the sensations taking place and sighs, somewhat annoyed, "I want to be able to feel you."

"Then feel me," Regina says smoothly, rubbing the length of her body against Emma's.

"I mean without anything in the way," Emma explains irritably, glancing pointedly down at her dress, under the firm belief that Regina knows exactly what she is talking about. "I want... I want to be able to feel you against me," she admits, giving a roll of her eyes at how stupid she sounds.

"Hmm..." Regina purrs, looking down at Emma's clothed chest. "Not yet."

Emma takes a deep breath, a strong flash of impatience making itself known. She's not certain of the game Regina is playing, but is aware of just how long her games can last, and she's not sure she is even capable of summoning forth the endurance for playing in one tonight. The tequila is starting to make her a little drowsy and irritable, and she knows that the sooner she has this dress off, the sooner her and Regina will be getting down to business.

"Regina... come on, I'm taking it off... Get up." Emma attempts to maneuver the Mayor off of her, but Regina presses her full weight against her once again.

"I said... not yet."

"But-"

"Is there somewhere else you have to be, Ms. Swan?" Regina says, the low, velvety drawl of her voice becoming sharp and cutting, causing Emma to flinch a little.

"No, but... I'm just getting kind of tired of the foreplay," she mumbles. "Can we just skip to me being naked and-"

"Well, in that case, why don't you make your leave?" Regina says, a coldness to her voice as she pushes herself up on her arms. "Don't let me keep you if you're too tired for me." She then sits up on her knees between Emma's legs and makes to get off the bed completely, but Emma snatches at her wrist, halting her.

"Christ, I didn't know you were so touchy," she says around a smirk, her slight drowsiness ebbing at Regina's tone.

"I'm not," Regina refutes, trying to shake Emma off. "I've just had it with your ungrateful atti-" Emma gives a sharp tug and the rest of Regina's words are lost in a gasp as she is unceremoniously pulled back on top of the blonde.

Emma quickly clasps her hands over Regina's backside to prevent her from rearing back up onto her knees, giving a squeeze out of habit.

"I'm not ungrateful," Emma says, once Regina has re-situated herself and is bracing on her arms above her, looking more cross than ever as she glares down at the sheriff. "Just impatient." Emma bites at her lip, not caring that the innocent gesture won't be bought. The fact that she is going out of her way to smooth things over should be enough for Regina, she thinks, a little annoyed that she's being made to jump through hoops.

In a way, she supposes that she can't really blame Regina for being on the defensive around her, for having less patience with her than usual, and assumes the other woman is still holding a bit of a grudge against her for what transpired in the diner Thursday between them. The familiar sinking feeling resurfaces, but Emma refuses to fully acknowledge it. She won't be made to feel guilty, not over Regina, not over the woman who, in the past, has said awful things to her in turn. They run on animosity, on resentment, not on apologies and absolution. It makes for a bumpy ride, but, in the end, they usually get to where they are going.

"I'm not too tired for you," she continues, squeezing the rounded flesh in her grasp to further persuade the doubtful Mayor. "I believe I've spent the past few months choosing you over sleep, so that's not even a question." Emma sees the small twitch of Regina's lip, a tell-tale sign that Regina is holding back a smirk, and represses one of her own.

"I'm not going anywhere, Madam Mayor. So you can either ignore me... or take advantage."

Regina raises an eyebrow, letting a few seconds pass before she sinks down, her face hovering just above Emma's.

"And what makes you think I won't just throw you out?"

Emma lets her eyes drop to the full, red-stained lips in front of her, lets herself breathe in the warm, inviting air for a moment.

"Because you've never been able to before."

Emma won't look back into the deep, dark brown eyes boring into hers, she can't – not even sure the words, so softly spoken, were even heard.

Grabbing at Regina's chin, she forces their lips together and focuses solely on the sensation of Regina's mouth melding to hers, on the feeling of hands returning to stroke roughly at her body.

Emma's hand slides from Regina's jaw to the nape of her neck, threading through thick locks and tightening as Regina's hands slide beneath her to grasp at her back, her arms encircling Emma in a smothering heat.

The sound of the zipper being pulled down isn't heard, becomes lost in the ragged breaths being exchanged above, and Emma barely registers the straps of her dress being easily torn, the skin of her breasts becoming exposed before being quickly overtaken by the skin of another.

Nails return to dig into the newly exposed skin of her back and she hisses into Regina's demanding mouth, her body curving up against the other woman. She feels that the dress has bunched around her waist, having been shoved from either end, and shivers as a hand leaves her back to stretch down and graze up the inside of her thigh. She knows where it's headed, yet can't contain the slight jump as warm fingers meet the wet material between her legs. Regina's fingers climb further up and Emma feels her skin becoming clawed as the other woman carelessly tears at her underwear, the flimsy excuse hastily tossed somewhere unknown before Regina's fingers return, no longer hindered by the barrier.

Emma bites at Regina's lip as a small whimper escapes, simultaneously grinding herself against the brunette's hand. Regina pulls her mouth away to respond with a nip of her own before moving to Emma's neck, sucking blindly at her throat as she slides two fingers into the ready entrance awaiting her.

"More," Emma croaks, rolling her hips with intent.

Regina responds by giving a hard pulse of her teeth against a tendon, meant as a form of admonishment, and Emma sucks in a breath before reading the signal for what it is and maneuvering her own hand down between them to slide through Regina's folds.

Regina lets out a harsh breath, a moan becoming audible as she shifts her hips enough to allow Emma entrance. Only after Emma has reciprocated does Regina allow a third finger to come into play, and soon a hard rhythm is set.

Over time the air becomes thick and humid, the base of Regina's neck becoming damp with sweat from the heat of Emma's hand, Emma's back developing a pointed ache from the fingertips pressing unforgivingly into her skin.

Regina continues to rove her mouth between Emma's lips and neck as their bodies rock and thrust, pants and moans becoming more frequent as their pace increases.

Emma clings harder to Regina, tousling the other woman's hair completely as she runs her hand continuously from the back of her neck up to the dark, damp locks and back again, trying to stay focused enough to keep her other hand in motion.

To say that Emma hates multitasking would be putting it lightly. She's aware it's fueled by her occasional laziness, not to mention selfishness as it pertains to this particular situation, so she doesn't allow herself to become too disgruntled. She drives her hand up unexpectedly, reveling in the strangled sound that it draws from the other woman. Regina is quick to respond with the same movement, causing Emma to swear appreciatively and feel mildly thankful that Henry isn't in the house.

She has the faraway thought of how convenient is it, that Regina decided to change the days on a night Henry wouldn't be here. If Henry wouldn't have had the sleepover, would Regina have even bothered changing the days? Would she have even given it any consideration? So much for the woman 'going out of her way', Emma thinks, slightly bitter.

You should be lucky she invited you back here at all, a voice whispers from the back of her mind. More trouble than you're worth, you are.

Emma thrashes her head to the side to rid herself of the intrusive voice. She then feels Regina's hand at her back scraping down, moving to encircle her waist and grasp at her side, just above her hip, attempting to tame Emma's bucking movements.

Suddenly a shrill sound pierces the air and it takes but a few seconds for Emma to immediately recognize the simple, generic tune to be coming from her cell phone, still nestled in her clutch on the floor.

"Ignore it," Regina barks.

Emma nods absently; not that she has any other choice, Regina is keeping her pretty well pinned. And even if she wasn't, Emma feels it would be idiotic to abandon the position she is in now over the possibility of someone calling to report a cat stuck up in a tree. If it's something major, they'll call back, she thinks, reassuring herself as the ringing ceases.

Another minute passes and the little beep signaling a voice mail echoes dimly in Emma's mind. Her curiosity wanes as Regina seeks to further distract her, pulling and biting at her earlobe as she begins circling Emma's clit with her thumb. Emma bucks again, fighting against the nails digging into her side and enjoying it. If she's not butting heads with Regina over one thing, then it's over another.

"You're throwing me... off rhythm..." Regina breathes raggedly into her ear.

"Not my fault you can't... can't keep up," Emma shoots back, giving another defiant raise of her hips.

She feels the ominous vibrations against her throat before Regina presses her thumb down with a brute force.

"Jesus," Emma hisses, fisting Regina's hair tightly as her body twists away from and back to the pressure, her own rhythm becoming strained and confused. She jerks her leg higher up on Regina's waist to steady herself as she chews on the inside of her cheek to keep herself quiet, forgetting for a moment that they are alone in the house.

"Bitch," she pants after a moment, feeling herself beginning to pulse around Regina's fingers.

She hears the low purr of, "Mmm," against her ear, can almost feel the smirk forming against her neck as Regina feels for herself how close Emma is now. Emma digs the heel of her hand up against Regina's clit in retaliation, and the other woman automatically grinds herself against it with a groan, as if she had been expecting it.

Regina lifts her head, presumably to say something snide, but she's cut off as the shrill sound returns, jarring them both.

As the sound registers, Regina is quick to ignore it once again, barely faltering in her movements. But as the ringing continues, Emma begins growing mildly anxious. Who could be calling her at this hour? Mary-Margaret knows she's supposed to be back late because of her plans with Ruby... If it's anything to do with Henry, then Regina's phone would be ringing, not hers... She can't think of any other reason for her phone to be going off other than for it to be something Sheriff-related.

"Don't," Regina spits, seeing the subtle worry passing over Emma's features. "Don't even think about it."

"What if... what if it's an emergency?" Emma says, breathless as she struggles to maintain focus. "I should-"

"If it were anything serious my phone would be ringing too," Regina replies, her voice softening slightly as her eyes fight to remain open.

Emma realizes that Regina has a valid point. This town is so small that any true emergency would probably divert straight to the Mayor sooner than anyone, possibly even sooner than Emma herself.

"You're right," she breathes, falling back into step with Regina's movements.

"Of course I am," Regina states with unnerving sincerity, giving only a small curl of her lip before dropping her head back down to the crook of Emma's neck to concentrate.

As time passes, any thoughts or worries remaining of phone calls become drowned out in the harsh cadence that is now taking place upon Regina's bed.

"Fuck," Emma gasps, her body propelling backward enough for her hand to leave Regina's hair and fly back to the headboard, pushing against it to match Regina's aggression.

Regina sloppily mouths at her neck, her own hand unsticking itself from around Emma's waist to land beside hers on one of the headboard slats as they both ride that much closer to the edge. Emma wonders if they might not just rip the damn thing right off.

Regina appears to become lost in her own little world, and it isn't long before Emma feels the convulsions around her fingers and the shudders rocking above her... Regina's strained cry in her ear making her own body surge, feeling the brunette writhe against her more completely. She can almost feel the aftershocks stuttering their way through the woman above her, making themselves known through wayward hip jerks and hitching breaths.

Once they have ceased, Emma barely hesitates before tearing her hand out from between Regina's legs to grasp desperately at the Mayor's body, wet fingers sliding along the smooth skin before she's able to find purchase with her nails. Abandoning the headboard, she searches for another handhold on the woman, willing Regina to finish her off.

Regina tries to recover quickly, her breathing still labored as she feels her hair being yanked and her back being clawed, and shoves her fingers into Emma with a renewed energy, her other hand leaving the headboard as well to tangle her fingers in Emma's hair in turn. She pulls enough to force Emma's head farther back and Emma doesn't hesitate to pull at the roots of Regina's own hair to bring the brunette's mouth firmly to her exposed neck.

Emma feels Regina's teeth drag along the length of her throat, drifting to scrape along the protruding collarbone, and shivers in response. She hisses as Regina tightens the hold in her hair even more, and feels the other woman drag her tongue back up and nip at her jaw as her thrusts become more powerful.

"God..." Emma pants, the legs around Regina's waist slipping slightly amidst the sweat coating their bodies.

It doesn't hit her until now how badly she has been wanting this, needing this. To feel overwhelmed in such a way that it doesn't feel as if it's breaking her, harming her in some way is overly welcoming.

"We're alone," Regina rumbles, gruff and throaty, her thumb circling intently.

"Mmhmm," Emma grunts, barely paying attention to the words being spoken as her legs climb higher.

"Don't hold back, Ms. Swan," is grated into her ear next.

Emma mindlessly tries to nod, but remembers with a small stab of pain the strong grip that Regina has in her hair. She feels Regina's lips wandering over the column of her neck again, skimming across the skin with her usual nip here and there. Then Emma suddenly has a thought.

"Do it," she says around a gasp.

Regina's lips stop scouring; Emma can feel them hovering just below the line of her jaw, bumping against them every few seconds with the motion of their bodies. "I know you've been wanting to," she continues. "Even if you won't admit it."

She hears the growl and inhales sharply as her neck is bent even further into an uncomfortable arch, the pillow the only thing easing some of the strain. Even with the pain, Emma manages to smirk. She's known Regina long enough to recognize when she has accurately called the other woman out – the physical act of lashing out the only evidence she needs.

Emma waits, her own panting breaths not enough to cover the ones she feels puffing hotly against her throat. The agonizing seconds continue to stretch, filling the room with an almost palpable tension, and Emma sucks in a breath when Regina's lips once again resume their movement, brushing and tasting.

Regina drifts this way and that, her mouth nudging against a patch of skin, tongue flicking out, before moving on. When Emma feels her wander to the crook of her neck, just above the shoulder, and pause, her eyes flutter back open, feeling victorious.

Regina bites down, hard, sucking the flesh into her mouth with a ferocity that fulfills Emma's expectations. Emma cries out, her mouth stretching open at the sharp ache taking place, her nails digging in along the skin of the other woman's spine, elation swooping high in her stomach at the feel of Regina giving in.

The earlier nips and sucks were never meant to last beyond tonight, never meant to be seen outside of this bedroom. But as Regina takes Emma into her mouth with abandon, Emma knows of the intent being played out now, has been encouraging it.

Emma is being marked.

While Emma likes to think it's an act that can stand on its own, without the influence of vengeance, she knows that it's Regina's own belated form of retribution, of revenge for how she has been marked so flagrantly by Emma in the past. Emma has been feeling it for awhile now, the need, the urge Regina has to settle her own score. Regina might pretend to be above it, to be more in control of herself, but Emma knows better. For Emma had tempted her, and Regina had all but broken.

Risk and visibility are thoughts that remain distant, unwelcome in Regina's mind as the skin under the mercy of her mouth blooms into a blushing red... tongue, teeth, and lips drawing out the darker shade of plum amongst the sea of deep crimson.

She registers neither shame nor weakness in what she's doing, impulse and adrenaline blocking everything else out as she concentrates instead on pushing Emma to the edge, and shoving her off.

She feels Emma's legs squirming against her, the sheriff's hands digging and grasping, pulling and pushing... and Regina works her fingers that much harder, adding another and relishing in the small squeal that emanates from Emma as she is stretched and utterly filled.

"Goddamn it, Regina!" The blonde shouts hoarsely, a whimper causing her voice to crack.

Regina releases the skin of Emma's throat with a wet smack, relieving the tension on her neck as she pulls Emma forward for their lips to meet.

It's incredibly sloppy, not awe-inspiring in the least, but neither of them care. Technique is far behind them as they seek only another form of contact, their bodies moving too determinedly for them to do anything but press against each other, teeth grazing and tongues brushing in a wet, sticky tussle.

Regina feels the body beneath hers tensing – the movements constricted and imprecise, giving minute jerks and shallow breaths – and she slides her mouth over Emma's jaw, tracing a path back down to the fresh blemish awaiting her, and offers no hesitation before closing over it once again, the pressure she exudes almost as angry and callous as the heel of her hand against Emma's clit.

A sharp cry sears through stuffy air, tapering off before rising again as Regina continues her assault. Emma is incapable of forming anything coherent, can't even control the sounds firing out of her mouth as her throat spasms along with the rest of the muscles in her body. She is at the divide, can practically feel herself swaying violently as she toes the line... just waiting to be sent flying one way or another.

All it takes is one... two... three more thrusts and Emma is gone, surging against the weight on top of her as her mouth drops open, emitting a stunted keening sound, and rocks shallowly against the force of Regina's hand.

Air passes through her lungs at a strained pace as she continues to roll her hips, the rhythmic throbbing of her center squeezing and pulling at Regina's fingers as she is slammed again with another wave of numbing satisfaction. She feels the aching pull of various muscles as she pushes them past their limits, her chest tightening from lack of air, arms and legs burning with the effort of drawing as much as she can from the other woman. She feels the greed overtaking her, pushing her to want more, to get more, to take more, and she keeps her body moving, trying to use her motions to physically communicate with Regina that she isn't done, that the Mayor is not to stop, not yet, not for anything.

Regina, again, breaks from Emma's neck, moving to hover her face above Emma's, their noses knocking as they pant against each other. Emma feels the heat shift and opens her eyes, her brow still creased in concentration. It's almost as if Regina is studying her, and Emma isn't sure what's happening.

Regina flits her gaze over Emma's features, lingering on her parted lips, before her eyes meet Emma's once again.

"Let go," she whispers, her own features blank save for the lines of exhaustion.

Emma automatically digs her nails in deeper along Regina's back, clutching at her on reflex, causing the brunette to smirk at her.

"Not of me," she breathes. "Just... let go."

Emma comprehends, feeling her body beginning to reach its brink. As Regina continues to plow into her, she feels the tension mounting in her muscles even more; clenching, pulsing, throbbing, straining, shaking, before Regina's words return to her and she breaks, releasing the hold she has been digging her heels in on and becoming saturated in a flood of pleasurable relief. A pathetic, hoarse croak is all that Emma manages this time, the image of Regina becoming blurred before fading to black as her eyes screw shut and she's reduced to shudders and gasps, Regina's fingers bringing her steadily back down.

As everything slows down, Emma's legs slip from around Regina's waist to fall dully on the mattress, Regina's hand withdrawing as Emma becomes still.

Heavy breathing permeates the thick, sweaty air still surrounding them, Emma's chest struggling to rise and fall, and it's then that she becomes aware of not one, but two, heartbeats thundering through her body.

After her breathing has calmed somewhat, Emma slides her eyes open, taking her time in staring blankly at the ceiling for a few moments. She observes the shadows, casting long and deliberate across her field of vision, as she feels the weight settle more heavily onto her.

Seconds pass and Emma abandons the oblivious pretense, allowing her gaze to drift down and fixate on the dark mop of hair that rests beneath her chin, watching as it rises and falls with every deep breath Emma takes.

She focuses on making her breathing as manageable and even as possible. While it's not unusual for Emma to rest on top of Regina from time to time, the action has never been reciprocated before now, and she doesn't wish to disturb the other woman.

By some act of mercy, her head remains clear of any intruding thoughts, of anything that would cause her to react poorly, and her breathing remains stable, calm. A few minutes later, just as Emma thinks Regina might have possibly fallen asleep, she feels a languid sigh being breathed between her breasts, then a weight lifting as Regina rolls off of her.

Emma's slight disappointment is overrun by the immediate cold rolling over her and she quickly brings her arms back in to cover her chest, Regina having once again stripped away her warmth.

"Mmm..." Regina purrs again as she flexes her fingers, the moon's rays catching the wetness on them, giving them a peculiar glint.

Regina then looks over at Emma, her smug look firmly in place as she gives her a once over. Emma feels her annoyance returning, swallowing up the blissful feeling from earlier, but bites her tongue. Even when Regina is completely nude and her hair is an up-ended wreck, she still looks more put-together than Emma at the moment, with her ripped, rumpled dress, bruised neck, and legs still unabashedly spread as she lays limp and spent.

"Your phone rang again," Regina says quietly, stretching her body in a graceful, cat-like movement.

The contented feeling residing inside Emma vanishes instantaneously, a cold, nervous energy returning as she forces herself to sit up. She doesn't bother to question why she didn't hear it or why Regina didn't let her know the second it went off again – the answers already glaringly obvious – as she shifts her legs over the side of the bed.

Once she is standing on shaky limbs, she shoves the remnants of her dress over her hips and onto the carpet, stepping out of the pooled material and walking the short distance to her clutch. She shivers against the ever-present chill of the room as she bends to grab it off the floor and pull her cell out.

Her eyes squint against the white-bright screen, watering slightly as she makes out that she has 3 missed calls and 3 voice mails. As she checks the numbers she's surprised to find that Ruby called her first, followed by Mary-Margaret two more times after that.

After a few more clicks she's dialed into her mailbox and is listening to the slurred words of Ruby explaining that she is just calling to make sure that Emma made it home okay. Emma sighs, already knowing what Mary-Margaret's voice mails will most likely consist of, if Ruby's are anything to go by.

"Who was it?" Regina asks, watching as Emma runs a hand through her hair – a sign that she is either stressing or about to be.

"Hold on," Emma whispers distractedly, Mary-Margaret's first voice mail coming up.

'Emma, it's me. I'm just calling to check up on you. Ruby called... said she couldn't get a hold of you and she wanted to check that you made it here safely. Call me back when you get a chance... so I know you're okay.'

Emma quickly deletes the message, putting the phone back to her ear to catch the last one of the night.

'Emma, I really don't mean to bother... but I would worry a lot less if you would call me back, let me know that you're safe.'

The message ends after that and Emma can tell that Mary-Margaret had been trying not to sound too smothering, seemingly all too aware of how Emma reacted the last time. Guilt creeps up on her then and Emma looks down at her phone, unsure of what to do. Then the sound of a throat clearing behind her gains her attention.

"Oh... uh, just Mary-Margaret," she says, answering the question at Regina's impatient look. "Wondering where I am."

Regina smirks again. "Forgot to get permission to be out late, did you?"

Emma scowls in her direction before turning back to her phone. "Just worries too much is all," she mumbles.

"If you ask me, she meddles too much," Regina replies, her tone becoming constricted and sour.

"I didn't ask," Emma says blandly, slightly on the defensive, as she continues to look blankly at her cell. Regina merely gives a roll of her eyes and another stretch atop the bed's surface.

"Suppose I should call her back," Emma mutters, giving a small side-long glance at Regina.

Regina shrugs her shoulders slightly, looking uninterested as she reaches to pull the covers over her legs and chest as she sits up against the headboard. Emma shivers in response, finding herself wanting to be underneath the covers, in the warmth, more than she cares to admit. She has the wild thought of just climbing right in, of not saying anything and just settling in next to the other woman.

But common sense stops her. She can already imagine the look of confusion on Regina's face, followed by the stern rejection. The very thought is humiliating. There aren't any excuses to come into play this time. She's not drunk and the sky is a clear, stark black... no storms or inebriation to hide behind tonight... nothing to warrant Regina extending an invitation for her to stay.

Her train of thought starts to become a little too bumpy for her liking, and she gives a small shake of her head. She has her own place to get to, her own room, with her own bed. Emma got what she came for, she doesn't need anything else from the other woman. Quickly dismissing any further though on the matter, she goes about calling Mary-Margaret back.

It rings twice before an alert voice picks up. "Hello? Emma?"

"Hey, Mary-Margaret. Yeah, it's me... Sorry about the missed calls, I was, uh... a little busy."

Emma frowns as she hears Regina's derisive snort and walks further away, not wanting Mary-Margaret to hear anything suspicious.

"Oh... it's okay, I was just... I just wanted to make sure..."

"That I was okay, yeah," Emma says, sensing her roommate trying to hold herself back again. "I'm actually about to head home now... should be back soon, so why don't you go ahead and go back to bed."

The pause on the other end of the line tells Emma that perhaps she was a bit hasty, and a little rude, but what else could she say?

"Oh, um... alright... Be careful, Emma."

"I will. See ya." Emma hangs up, thankful that Mary-Margaret kept her curiosity in check about where she is at the moment. She has a feeling that the 'At a friend's place' excuse might not settle too well a second time.

She turns back around, a little surprised to see Regina watching her rather intently.

"So..." Emma says, looking around and away from the other woman's gaze. "Um... don't suppose I could borrow some clothes?" Emma looks down at the red dress splayed on Regina's floor. If worse comes to worst, she could put it back on, the thing is tight enough to stay on her without straps, but she knows the material has gathered more than its fair share of stains and she is loathe to feel the cold spots pressed against her skin.

Regina gives a lift of her eyebrow before motioning towards the bureau.

"Second to last drawers on the left and right."

Emma, feeling a little awkward, moves towards the dresser, bending slightly to pull open one of the drawers indicated and pulling out a plain, white V-neck. She opens the drawer on the right and searches carefully until she finds a pair of thin, gray sweatpants. Not the best combination, but it'll have to do. No one should be out this late, so hopefully she will go unseen as she walks home.

Once she has pulled on the borrowed clothing, she picks up the now dingy, wrinkled material of her dress and holds it out to properly inspect, seeing the aforementioned wet spots and the ripped straps hanging loosely off of it.

"Shame," she hears Regina say with a tinge of regret. "I really liked that dress."

Obviously, Emma thinks, crumpling it back up into a ball and holding onto it, already planning which dumpster to throw it in now that it's ruined.

"Do you have any shoes... like, uh, sandals or flip-flops or something? I don't think I could fit into your regular shoes," Emma says, looking around, knowing that she is pushing her luck. She may not care too much what others think about her, but she will be damned if she struts down the street in heels with this outfit, whether the sidewalks are empty or not; the mismatched clothes and look of debauched exhaustion on her face will already be enough to classify as a walk of shame, she doesn't need to fully qualify herself.

Regina sighs. "Do I look like a woman who owns a pair of flip-flops, Ms. Swan?"

"Just thought I'd ask," Emma says, her frustration increasing. "Can I at least borrow a pair of socks so I'm not having to walk home barefoot?"

Regina pauses in readjusting herself against the headboard. "What do you mean 'barefoot'?" She asks after a few seconds, looking over at Emma's heels on the floor. "Wait, what do you mean 'walk'?"

"I took a cab here," Emma explains, annoyed. "So unless you plan on lending me the keys to your Mercedes, I'm walking back."

Surprisingly, Regina looks more annoyed than she does and is actually glaring at her.

"For god sakes," Regina grouses. "You don't give a single thought to planning these things out do you?"

"Hey, it's not as if I haven't done it before. I had to walk home from here a couple days ago, didn't I? It's not a big deal."

"That was different, you were appropriately dressed and it wasn't in the middle of the night. Plus you didn't have any other choice in that matter," Regina snaps, her arms crossing over the sheet she still has draped over herself.

"Are you suggesting I have one now?" Emma questions, the irritation filtering out of her voice unexpectedly. She quickly tries to smother the spark of hope she feels with... something, anything... but it won't come.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Regina mutters, shaking her head as she stares at Emma with slight wonder.

Emma takes a step closer to the bed, the marred dress falling out of her hand without either of them taking notice.

"Get what?" She asks, suddenly more curious than she has ever remembered being in her life.

Regina almost smiles then, traces of the mocking look making itself known in the small crinkles at the corners of her dark eyes, in the faded lines around her lips, before she lets the familiar stoic feature roll over her.

"Nothing," she whispers, peeling back the sheets from the other side of the bed.

"No, tell me what you mean," Emma presses.

"I will not," Regina replies, a small shadow of a smirk coming into play amidst the passiveness.

"Regina-"

"Ms. Swan," Regina cuts across, her voice heavy as she pinpoints Emma with a small, exasperated stare.

"What?" Emma snaps.

"Take off that ridiculous outfit and come to bed."

A/N: Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter.