Small invasions and happiness 3

"You have got to be kidding me?" Emma takes one look at the bed before turning to stare incredulously at Regina.

"Whatever do you mean dear?"

"You know exactly what I mean!" Emma's shoulders tense at the sight of the clueless expression Regina is trying to pull off, quite unsuccessfully. She turns back to the bed, glaring with pure disgust at the items lined up on the grey bedspread.

"I'm not wearing that. No way in hell am I wearing that!" She crosses her arms over her chest in an attempt at defiance. Regina only smiles.

"Of course you won't dear."

Emma's head snaps up at the words. "Don't you dare 'dear' me!"

"Of course not..." Regina chuckles. "...dear."

Emma knows better than to get into an argument over something this silly. She also knows that when Regina wants to provoke her, she usually succeeds. The smirk currently directed her way feeds the indignant anger she feels and she forces her eyes shut. She tries to slow her breaths, tries to relax her shoulders, tries to let go of the anger. Regina is so very good at riling her up, and it's become a familiar game between them, but today Emma's just not in the mood. She has been prickly since this morning - she overslept, had no time for the necessary caffeine kick and a few hours later she'd dropped her first cup of coffee when tripping on the curb outside of Granny's. She really has no patience left and Regina should know better. Apparently she does, as Emma feels a hand caress her upper arm.

"I'm sorry Emma."

"No, I'm sorry. I just..." She sighs. "Do I really have to wear - that?"

"I would like it if you did." Regina is standing so very close now, close enough for Emma to feel the heat radiating from her body. She smells nice too, like apples and cinnamon. The silky voice, that always gives Emma goose bumps of pleasure, is whispering in her ear. "You're gorgeous in your jeans and tank tops, but I'd love to see you in that dress. Just the idea of you in it leaves me breathless."

Emma feels a smile tug at her lips. She shouldn't give in so easily, especially not to flattery. Having Regina admit that she finds the visual of Emma in a dress exciting weakens her resolve. She reaches out to touch the thin fabric - it is nice, but unlike anything she would normally wear. Regina is the one with the expensive fabrics, perfectly styled hair, tasteful makeup and ridiculously extravagant shoes. Emma is just, well... Emma. She knows how to dress up, but rarely does.

She looks into warm brown eyes and bites her lip while considering her choices. She could flat out refuse and show up at the annual town ball in her usual attire - making a statement, although she's not sure exactly what that statement would be. What does it mean to show up at a fancy ball in boots, jeans and a leather jacket? Emma thinks it would mean sleeping on the couch for a foreseeable future. She could dress up, but in something more moderate - a suit maybe? Regina would be okay with that. She could even sacrifice a bit of comfort and wear a pair of heels. The third option is to actually wear the maroon dress and delicate shoes lying on the bed.

Emma imagines showing up at the ball with Regina on her arm. She knows she'll have the most beautiful woman in town as her date, she also feels a bit of pride at the possibility of looking equally as good. A giddy feeling spreads through her body, replacing the tenseness and indignation.

"Okay." It's all she says before heading towards the bathroom to take a shower. They've got an hour before they need to leave and she's going to make the best of that time. Before she pushes the door to the bathroom shut she looks at Regina and the smile that greets her makes her heart skip a beat. Regina is happy, which in turn makes Emma happy. Sometimes that's all that matters.