Regina crept into her home as quietly as possible. None of the lights were on, so she assumed Robin and Henry were sleeping. She kicked off her heels, and darted into her home office, opening a small cabinet, and pulling out a decanter of dark, gold liquid. She poured herself a generous glass, wasting no time taking the first sip. The brandy was smooth, making her whole throat feel warm, and she sat down on the chaise lounge in the corner.

She was still reeling from her conversation with Mal, flipping between seething rage and a curiosity that appalled her. What in Mal's right mind made her think I would need a prostitute of all things? It's disgusting…not to mention degrading. I don't need some floozy to fix what I'm going through with Robin.

The brunette scoffed into her glass, shaking her head as she swallowed. She took a deep breath, enjoying the quiet of the household, briefly considering staying in her office to sleep, instead of trying to crawl into the bed without waking Robin. But just when she was thinking of sneaking upstairs to grab a nightgown, her fiancé knocked softly on the office door before poking his head in, startling Regina.

"Goodness, you scared me!" she said, hastily trying to compose herself.

"I'm sorry, honey. I saw there was a light on down here. Were you gonna come up soon?" Behind all the tiredness in his eyes, she saw genuine concern.

"Yes," she lied quickly. "I was just having a quick nightcap before coming up." She raised the glass of brandy as evidence. "It was a long day."

"Henry was asking for you tonight." Robin's voice was calm and even, but both of them knew he was saying it to make Regina feel guilty for missing him, and it worked all too well. That feeling of guilt twisted in her belly like writhing worms until it turned into anger.

"Oh, and you think I wanted to stay late and not see my son? Do you think it made me happy, Robin?" she snapped, her stare sharp like snapped glass.

"That's not what I meant at all!" He hissed, keeping his voice down so as not to wake the slumbering boy upstairs.

"Please, dear, we both know what you meant! You hate when my life doesn't revolve around you, and what you expect from me, and you were using my son to make me feel bad." Regina was standing, her fists clenched.

"Is that what you think of me?" he asked, running his hand over his stubbled chin in frustration. "You think that I demand you to…what? Be home by five, have dinner on the table for me, and to take care of Henry while I sit and watch football, or something? Is that it?"

"I feel like you have never accepted the fact that I run my own company. I feel like you think that because I'm the CEO, I can do whatever the hell I want. Well I can't. I have duties, and responsibilities to the company, and to my employees! That means certain sacrifices when necessary!" The lie tasted sour in her mouth, knowing that she had been staying late on purpose recently.

"Wow, you must think I'm really stupid if you think I don't know that, Regina. I love and admire the work and dedication that you give to your career, so why the hell are we even fighting about this? What's really going on?"

The physical space between them crackled agitatedly with tension. They knew that what they were fighting about was not the real issue, but in that moment, it seemed to be the only way either of them could express their feelings. Despair clung to Robin as he tried to figure out how they got to this point. Regina just wanted to be left alone, so she did what she does best, and she lashed out.

"Nothing! I'm perfectly fine. It's you who seems to have the problems here," Regina snapped, failing to convince herself and her fiancé, but she and Robin became momentarily distracted by her phone buzzing next to her drink, as the screen lit up with a text from Mal.

"Ah, and The Dragon Lady calls," Robin said, his voice sarcastic and angry. "Why are you still friends with her? She's your ex, for fuck's sake! Is it because she's in publishing, and if you give her a little something on the side, she'll say nice things about you and your company?" he asked viciously, but his face changed, realizing with disgust what he just said.

"Regina, wait. I…I didn't mean that. That came out wrong. Please…I-I'm sorry."

"You meant every word of what you just said to me." Her voice was calm but so icy, it felt like the temperature in the room had plummeted. "How dare you say I fuck my way to success! How dare you think I'm some sort of conniving slut! How dare you even think for one second that I didn't earn everything I have built through honest means! Get out of my office. Now."

"Regina, please-"

"I said now." The look she gave him made all the color drain from his face, and he left hastily. Once he was out of earshot, hot tears spilled from Regina's eyes, and she crumpled onto the chaise, wondering what had just happened. She hated herself for instigating the fight in the first place, but her hurt and fury over what Robin just said overrode all of her personal guilt. Blinking through her tears, she picked up her phone and looked at Mal's text.

I pulled a few strings. Saturday. 1pm. The Clocktower Hotel. Have fun babe, and don't overthink it ;)

~8~

The rest of the week flew by for Regina in a hazy, uncomfortable blur. Her interactions with Robin were short and direct, only ever saying exactly what needed to be said. However, she did not stay late at work once the rest of the week, instead opting to spend as much time with Henry as possible. He was the only thing that could distract her from a decision she had not yet made.

Regina was very much a woman of action, and, as such, the fact that she had not firmly decided to go or not go to the hotel on Saturday was a point of anxiety for her. Her decisions and the convictions with which she made them always came naturally to her – a trait she learned from her mother. When Saturday morning came seemingly out of nowhere, she found herself sitting at the kitchen counter, absent-mindedly sipping her coffee, lost in thought.

She tried to imagine what would happen if she went, and how she would feel. Would she actually have paid-sex with a stranger? Would she feel guilty, relieved, disgusted? Or would she go, and simply talk? After all, she heard that many men saw prostitutes and escorts just to talk, and it wasn't about sex for them at all. She scoffed to herself, wondering why they would pay the exorbitant price of a sex worker for that, when they could just pay the exorbitant price for a therapist, and not have to worry about any legal ramifications.

When she finished her coffee, she checked in on Henry in the den. He was working casually on a puzzle, while his Saturday morning cartoons were on in the background. Robin was on the sofa, drinking his coffee, and reading the news on his tablet. When he saw her, he offered up a weak smile, hoping that Regina had softened up some since their argument. She had not. She ignored him, and knelt by her son. He leaned into her, and she kissed the crown of his head.

Robin quietly got her attention, and gestured her to come to her office. Reluctantly, she obliged, leaving Henry to his puzzle. The air between the two adults was still tense, and unwelcoming, with Regina's stoic demeanor, and Robin's sheepish awkwardness.

"What do you want, Robin?" Her face was stone, her expression unmoved.

"I just wanted to talk. We've barely spoken all week, and you haven't even given me a chance to apologize."

"Have you thought that I might not be ready to hear your apologies for the things you said to me? Have you even thought that I might still be utterly furious with you?"

"Yes, of course I have! But not even being able to say that I'm sorry has been killing me!" He ran his fingers through curled, brown locks, and took a desperate step toward his fiancée.

"Right, and it's all about you and your feelings, isn't it, Robin," she stated, taking a step backward to maintain her distance. "Just as long as you can wash your hands of this, everything will be okay." The brunette's words were flat and cold, her feelings from their argument on Wednesday unyielding.

"I never said that! Stop putting words into my mouth!" Robin's eyes were glassy, and red, with dark circles lurking below them.

"Fine. Say you're sorry to me." She crossed her arms impatiently.

"I am sorry, Regina."

"There. Do you feel better now," she asked, her mood unchanged.

"Well…no."

"Good. Now you know how I feel, dear. Was there anything else?" She cocked her eyebrow, daring him to try to continue their conversation.

"No. I guess there isn't." he sighed in defeat.

"I have a meeting today, at 1. I don't know how long I will be."

"On a Saturday?"

"It's a client from out of town. Last minute. I need to entertain them, and show them the sights," she lied smoothly.

"Right, take them for drinks and impress them with what the area has to offer. Well, good luck. I'm sure you'll dazzle them," Robin said with sincerity.

A jolt of guilt struck Regina at hearing his words, but she replied with a curt, "Thank you." And then she left him standing somberly in her office.

Before she knew it, it was ten of one, and she found herself standing in her closet, fussing over what to wear. She was at a loss. What do you wear when you're going to meet with a call girl? At least, she assumed it was a woman, but Mal never specified. She tried on a few of her more alluring outfits, but none of them felt right to her. She didn't know what kind of message those dresses would send. Casual wear didn't seem right either, and the hotel they were to meet in was upscale. Finally, Regina settled on an outfit that would speak of confidence, a feeling she was distinctly lacking in.

She slipped on a lavender, satin button-down shirt, tucking the hem into a sharp, white pencil skirt, and then donning an equally-fitted white blazer. She made sure her hair was perfectly set, and then she stepped into black stilettos, finally examining herself in the mirror. White power suits were always bold, and they looked especially striking against her olive skin and dark hair. She knew she looked sexy, and her perfect composure helped her confidence come back slightly. She took a deep breath, looked herself over once more, and left.

~8~

Regina stood in an empty elevator as it climbed to the seventh floor of the hotel. Her nerves were jangling, and she felt slightly ill. The last time she felt this nervous had been when she was driving to the adoption agency to meet Henry for the first time. She took several long breaths to steady herself, finishing just as the elevator car came to a gentle halt, its doors parting for her. When she found herself outside of the room, she froze for a moment, wondering what she was going to do or even say.

After swiping the key card, she entered – to her relief – the empty suite. She made a beeline for the minibar, grabbing a tiny bottle of wine and pouring it out for herself. A shaking hand brought the glass to her lips, and she drained the whole thing all at once. Before she could pull another bottle from the minifridge, a soft knock came at the door.

Regina's hands went cold, and she cautiously approached the entrance. She knew that if she used the peep hole, she would lose her already-frayed nerves. Taking another deep breath, she opened the door, and her mouth went completely dry. Before her stood a blonde: tall, fit, breathtakingly gorgeous. The stranger smiled demurely, looking Regina up and down. The brunette stepped aside wordlessly, allowing the other woman to saunter into the room.

The blonde turned around to face her client, fixing her emerald eyes on Regina's in an intense, confident stare. The brunette, suddenly self-conscious, straitened her blazer and smoothed her skirt out nervously.

"Emma," the woman said, offering her hand. Regina took it, wincing internally as she realized how clammy her own hand must have felt. "And you must be Regina." Her voice was smooth, calm, and practiced, something that the brunette was intimately familiar with in her own career.

A simple, "Yes," was all she could muster in that moment, and it made Emma chuckle slightly.

"Is this your first time?" she asked, sitting down on one of the love seats in the room. Regina was suddenly very distracted by the hot pink dress the woman was wearing, and how it seemed to be painted onto her body. She usually felt that the color was a garish one, but the way it stood out against the blonde's milk-white skin, and golden tresses made her think that it might not be so bad after all.

"It's okay if you're nervous, Regina. I understand that first sessions can be a little weird, but I want you to know," her tone became a little more serious. "I only do what you want to do, and only when you want to do it. If you even want to do anything at all. The ball is in your court, and I am at your disposal." A sly smile played about her pale, pink lips, and her eyes raked up and down Regina's body once more.

"Yes, well, I don't even know why I'm here. I want you to know that this isn't something that I normally do. I'm not that kind of person; I'm just humoring a friend," she tried to explain, feeling absolutely ridiculous.

"I'm sure. It's not my job to know why you're in this room with me. My job is to make sure that, as long as you're in this room with me, you're satisfied. Completely."

Regina swallowed thickly, her mouth still dry. She found herself suddenly wondering what the woman across from her felt like. She wondered what her lips would taste like, and if her skin was exactly as soft as it looked. She squirmed slightly where she stood, acutely aware that she felt something in the pit of her stomach.

"I have no doubt of your…abilities. You are…very beautiful, Emma. I just don't think-" but her words were caught in her throat when the blonde stood and rapidly closed the space between them.

"You're right. Don't think." She said softly, her face inches from Regina's. "It's so easy to be wrapped up in our own heads." Emma was so close, barely a whisper would slip between them. Her fingers snaked up Regina's jacket, clenching the lapels. In a smooth motion, she pulled the brunette against her. "Just let go."

Regina's breath hitched roughly in her throat, and a reckless voice in her head was shouting at her to just kiss the stunning woman who was so close, she could feel their breaths mingling. That little voice in her head was begging her to find out if throwing caution to the wind was going to be as delicious as she imagined it to be.

The two women locked eyes, and Emma, true to her word, did not initiate. But her perfume and the intensity of her verdant eyes made Regina's head swim with a desire that she had not felt in a very long time. The brunette bit her lip, warring with herself over what to do. Before she really knew what she was doing, she felt the door handle under her fingers, and a short moment after that, they were slamming the elevator buttons. She found herself wishing that Emma would chase her down and stop her, but the blonde made it clear that she wasn't going to do anything that she wasn't explicitly told to do. She knew she could turn around and go back to the room, but once the elevator doors closed, it seemed so final. She resigned herself to her choice, already wondering if she had done the right thing or not.