"Isn't it a little early for you to be doing nothing?" Captain Regina Mills jested as she strode into the office she shared with the blonde. The precinct had seen severe budget cuts several months ago, and as such, all high-ranking officers were to open their offices to their partners, if they didn't already; there had been mixed reactions throughout the station. With her zip-up, leather boots clacking against the linoleum floors, the brown-haired woman came bearing two black coffees. Her black blazer buttoned down the front and accentuated the curves of her waist as she strutted with a confidence that many envied. Setting one of the drinks across from her, she landed in her rolling chair with a heavy sigh and gave her partner a quizzical eyebrow raise. "Happy Friday to you, too," she bemused when the only sound in the room had been her own voice.

Detective Emma Swan sat behind her desk with the end of a pen stuck firmly between her teeth, her eyes glued to the computer monitor before her. Letting the writing utensil fall into her lap, she distractedly brought the piping cup of joe to her lips and loudly slurped it down, relishing the taste of French Roast. "What? Oh, yeah, morning," she mumbled.

With the door open, Regina did her best to drown out the buzzing and chattering of the station. She could hear the jangling of handcuffs and the clicking of gun barrels as officers reloaded their weapons. "All right, I'll bite. What are you up to?" she asked in a brief moment of uncharacteristic nosiness.

Scrolling through chatroom after chatroom, website after website, Emma shook her head. Her golden curls danced from side to side, something that always caught Regina's attention. "Uh," Emma started, her heart rate picking up just a couple of beats. "Just some research," she muttered. She scrambled for a new topic, a new trail for Regina to follow. "Oh, hey, before I forget: anything on that Jones guy?"

Pulling a file off of her desk, Regina nodded and tossed it over casually. Their tables were nose-to-nose, which made it easy to pass things to each other. "Forensics report," she said. "Cross-referenced with any possible matches in the system. Looks like this Killian Jones," she said the name with disgust, "is on his second breach of parole in the past month. The first being petty theft."

Holding her coffee to her mouth, Emma scanned the long history of misdemeanors and meaningless charges. For a guy with only one hand, Jones had made his rounds through the city. According to his file, he'd landed in seven precincts in the last three years, only allowing for a break during his eight-month sentence for stealing from a prominent politician.

Before Emma could become too engrossed in her reading material, her cellphone rang with urgent news. "Go," she answered the very instant she hit the green button. "Got it. I'll be there in 10." Shoving the device in her pocket, she grabbed her badge and her gun and jumped into the air. Leaving her chair spinning in circles, she zig-zagged around Regina's desk and tossed a casual, "Be back in an hour," over her shoulder.

Regina leaned back and craned her neck as far as it would allow, watching as Emma busted through the doors to the station. When enough time had passed, the Captain tossed out morality and snuck over to her co-worker's desk, unable to push aside her burning curiosity. Moving the mouse across the screen, Regina opened the minimized window and snooped through the pages Emma had left open. From left to right, the tabs were: a Google page of search results for "Best pick up-lines." The next read, "How to ask someone out on a date," with a list of possibilities. Another was entitled, "How to know if someone's interested in you." And, finally, the fourth page was a chat room with answers to the question, "What's the best way to ask out someone at work?"

Scanning each response as though they held the key to one of life's greatest mysteries, Regina racked her brain for all of the possible suspects in the office. Emma hadn't said anything about liking anyone; Regina didn't even know dating was something on Emma's mind. Usually, they were pretty honest with each other. Hell, they were partners; there wasn't much they didn't tell one another. In the three years they'd worked together, they'd shared all sorts of secrets and tidbits from their pasts. Regina even told Emma the nickname her parents had given her as a child, and no one else had ever known what it was. Likewise, Emma confided in Regina about her own stint in juvenile detention all those years ago. Something as basic as a crush should have been something Emma shared with Regina.

Not wanting to waste too much time on immature things, Regina put everything back to the way it was and returned to her own seat. She had several cases piled-up, just waiting to be logged into the database. She had more pressing issues. At least, that's what she told herself.

Just as she'd promised, Emma waltzed into the office exactly 56 minutes after being called away. She didn't come back empty handed, either. Bearing a brown paper bag of goodies, she dropped the present in front of Regina with a smug grin. "Two free bear claws, compliments of the corner bakery."

As Emma sat on the edge of Regina's desk, the only cleared spot in the entire room, the brunette peeked inside the sack and gave Emma an impressed look. "If only I could stomach those sugar-saturated desserts like you," she teased.

Shrugging as if she hadn't a care in the world, Emma lifted one of the treats and took a large bite out of it, the corner of her mouth covered in white frosting. "More for me," she said as she chewed.

"So," Regina started, doing her best to act as though she hadn't just spied on Emma, "what was so important you had to drop everything and dash? Oh wait, don't tell me: a stolen car? Did you go on a chase through the city? Did you follow their tire tracks back to their lair?"

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Emma cocked an eyebrow. "Not that that wouldn't have been way more interesting than a botched B'n R, but A) I think you've seen Fast and the Furious, like, way too many times. And B) that would've taken at least two more hours." In mock disappointment, Emma scoffed and shook her head. "You really gotta get out more."

Crossing one leg over the other, Regina rolled her eyes like a teenager. "Be that as it may, I seem to recall that you're on the clock until seven tonight."

"And?"

"And, as your commanding officer," the Captain said teasingly, "you really should get back to work. You can finish those tiger paws while you type. Just don't dirty the keyboard; they charge for that."

Muttering to herself, Emma swiped the brown paper back and sighed loudly. "Tiger paws, they're bear claws, for God's sake."

Soon, the small office that housed the two women went silent as they both attended to their responsibilities. Regina continued inputting all of the information tucked away in those manilla folders into the system, while Emma switched between actual work and "research."

Before they knew it, they'd spent most of the day cooped up inside. It was relatively uneventful for a Friday, a part of the weekend that people felt most daring and willing to test the law. In the end, Emma and Regina had only gotten up to grab lunch or go to the bathroom. Whatever crimes were being committed in the city, the perps weren't being brought to the 42nd precinct.

After hours of staring at a screen, Emma began packing her messenger bag at exactly 6:59, while Regina shut down her computer and covered the keys with the plastic casing. Both of the decorated officers reached for their jackets at the same time, bumping elbows in the process.

"So, Swan, what are your plans for the weekend? Anything else besides sleeping in until two in the afternoon?" Regina chuckled. Emma helped the woman into her coat, one arm at a time. It'd become such a habit, Regina didn't even notice when it happened.

Shrugging, Emma said, "Nah, that's pretty much it. You?"

Hoisting the strings to her purse over her shoulder, Regina's hair fell over her face she searched for her keys. She never drove to the station, but she had to lock up the office. "Oh, you know, the usual. A glass of wine and an old—"

"And old movie. Yeah, I know," Emma smirked. Soon, both of the cops were ready to take off. Emma wore her bag across her chest and wrapped her hand around the canvas strap, tightening her grip the closer they inched towards the door. Before they were completely out of the safety of their shell, Emma cleared her throat and said, "There's, uh, a few old movies playing at Film Forum down in the Village. It's sort of like a festival this weekend. Do you, um— you think— I mean, would you wanna go and check it out later? Maybe, uh, grab dinner too?"

Noting the way Emma shifted her weight from leg to leg twice as she spoke, it didn't take Regina very long to catch on. It may have been a while since the last time, but she knew the signs. Looking down at the ground to hide her smile, Regina played with the metal keys. "I thought you hated old movies?" she asked, only because she too was slowly becoming anxious.

"I don't hate them," Emma reasoned. "I just don't always understand them. But, I know you love them so I kinda just figured—"

"Yes," Regina said suddenly.

"Huh?"

Unable to contain her excitement, Regina nodded and peered over at the blonde. "Yes, I'd love to go."

Almost immediately, Emma's cheeks turned bright pink and her eyes light up like Christmas lights. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. Although…" Regina began.

Her wide-spread grin faltering a centimeter, Emma said, "Although…?"

Regina took one step closer to Emma, just enough for her to whisper in her ear, "Pick-up line number 11 would've worked just as well."

A/N - Thanks to the Anon who sent this in on Tumblr. This is probably a lot cleaner than they'd envisioned, but I'm just not very comfortable with writing explicit stuff. This is probably as suggestive as it'll get for now. I hope you understand! And I hope you enjoyed it. P.S., if you Google "best pick-up lines" and click on the result that says "900 pick-up lines," look for number 11 ;-)