I Can't Get You off of my Mind (and Maybe I'm Crazy but it's True)

Chapter One: Daffodils and Daisies

Regina is a famous art dealer, Emma is her artist. By circumstance of meeting, they discover they're each others mates. It wouldn't be an issue if they didn't already have boyfriends. But when the draw of the mate bond gets to be too much, what choice will they make? And how will it change their world? Omegaverse AU. Alpha Regina Omega Emma.

Regina started noticing the scent whenever she would visit her Boston Headquarters. At first it was just a whiff here or there. Like the scent outside the revolving doors. Or the scent in a lingering hallway or room. But it was never close enough. Never close enough to her because she towered in her heels, shrouded in arrogance and her high position of power. She was, after all, the art director and owner of three notable art galleries; one in Boston, one in New York and one in LA. And she was busy planning to open one in France.

But, she was always busy. Either having to oversee this or that, or pouring over the details of a new art piece so she could make a profitable investment.

So, she didn't pay much attention to the scent. One of daffodils and daisies and just pure sunshine in a bright field of long stalks of wheat. It made her warm, it made her usually unamused lips jerk up in a private smile. But the moment was fleeting because then her phone was ringing or some hapless assistant was calling her name, trying to get her to sign something or another.

She would notice it every time she was in Boston but she never bothered to ask anyone about it or stop to ponder on it. She simply powered on. In this manner, three years went by.

Eventually she did open that gallery in France and it was widely successful. And she also found a mate. Robin, a beta male and successful in working for Gold Bank, a banking firm run by a rich man named Robert Gold. Robin was a very patient and loving man. He was accommodating of her career and her constant flying in and out. And he was very thoughtful, always at home waiting for her with a cooked meal or a back rub on her tense shoulders.

He had been married previously but his wife had taken advantage of his beta nature and abused him. So he had left her and taken the kids, one cute curly haired boy named Roland and a dog named Little John who was a sweet Russel Terrier.

Regina loved all three of them and felt like sometimes she didn't deserve Robin's loving kisses, or Roland's instances on calling her 'mom' or Little John's licks on the nose. She felt she was barely at home, and when she was she was always over stressed or on the phone with someone or another making business deals. She sometimes doubted herself and her ability to give them a proper family but Robin assured her it was all alright and he was content with how things were.

Even if she did yell at him. Even if she did have her peculiar nature of how the mugs needed coasters before being set down, how the curtains had to be drawn only 45 degrees and not else, how the clothes needed to be hung color coded, etc. She honestly felt impressed by his willingness to go along with most of her proclivities. She was not an easy woman to get along with and she had been told many times by her slew of previous lovers, which was why she always felt like her happiness with love was hanging on by a thin string. Maybe that's why she buried herself with work. Because she refused to look at the happiness right in front of her that awaited her all along if only she could accept it.

But she was afraid to open her heart. She didn't want to lose a mate like she had lost Daniel. After all, had she not planned a whole future out with him, only to have it snatched away in a heart beat?

Her cold exterior made it hard for others to get along with her. To befriend her. And perhaps it was better this way. Even her best friend Marian, the one Robin had been married to, had turned out to be such a vile person, hurting a man who had been nothing but caring to her. And then she had the audacity to bad mouth Regina for 'stealing' her mate.

Regina had quickly used her influences to make sure the woman wouldn't get a decent job. And she got a restraining order on Marian so as to protect herself and her family. Robin still expressed regret for leaving his ex-wife, feeling like he had failed her. But it had only been the guilt and the lasting impression of the mating bite on his neck.

Regina had made sure to mark over it with her own, until nothing of it was left. She wasn't an alpha who shared easily.

And yet, despite being mated to Robin after he laid his claim on her the same night he finally threw his old ring away down the drain, she found that things were going to get a lot more complicated for her. And it all had to do with some stupid alpha beta omega rituals she had thought herself above.

Emma may or may not have tuned out for a majority of her classes in high school, but the two classes that always garnered her interests were art and health.

Art captured her interests for many reasons. Firstly, she loved it. Loved all it meant. It meant a world. A release. A freedom to do what she wanted in a society so obsessed with rules. True, there were rules in art about certain things, but they weren't rules so much as guidelines, or friends that told her to try something else, that encouraged her to break them.

And secondly, because it was her. She threw all her heart and soul into it. And the effort showed. Her art was always on display in every school fair and it kept her out of the trouble she created for herself more times than she could count.

And thirdly, it got messy. She loved mess. Her life was pretty much a mess anyways- less than stellar grades, no interest in school, and only friends with slackers,- art was something that could be messy and be praised for, unlike her attitude and attire.

And lastly, it would get her places. Like college, where she managed to get in and learned even more about things with art she could mess or destroy or create. She loved it. Loved the soot that rubbed on her fingers from charcoal. The soft nature of pastels. The watery quality of watercolor paint as it dripped down onto her smock. The harsh nature of spray paint. The roughness of clay before it was ready to be used. The heavy weight of metal as she twisted it into necklaces and rings.

Art was her way of understanding things. Of putting her life, and her world on paper. Despite that, she was never the subject of her own paintings. She would paint objects of her affections, distorted until it made people uneasy to look at. Her works were meant to prickle at the brain, make others want to look away yet they could not. It was like looking at a wreck. Morbid curiosity.

The second class that interested her in high school was health. She lived in a world of alphas, betas, and omegas. This wasn't a new concept. But an old one. And yet, it was intriguing to listen to it because her two prudes of parents didn't explain to her anything about how it all worked. And being a teenager with pretty much only sex, art, sleep and eating on her mind, she wanted to know all the ins and outs.

Literally, all the ins and outs.

And it was all so fascinating how there were so many regulations in place to make things easier. Everyone technically had a mate. That one person they were biologically meant to be with, something that the body could tell based on scent markers and pheromone productions and so on. Often times, or at least ten out of 15 times, a mated pair lived close by and would find themselves sooner or later. This could happen unconsciously and the pair wouldn't even know it. They would be drawn to be together, wanting to spend time around each other.

Naturally this sort of thing was repressed in teens by way of a sort of hormone control that went into their arms and only stopped working once they reached the age of 18. This was because they would be of age to consent then. To fully meet with their mate and be with them. The drug wore off gradually, giving teens enough time to learn working with heats and ruts before the full force of them hit. And they could be strong from what Emma has seen or heard. But thank goodness there was medicine for that.

Emma, naturally, wanting to be a rebel, fished the little device embedded under her skin and tossed it out. Going into full heat was a heady experience and she slept with a couple of other betas who had also taken out their implants. She was always careful. Being an omega, while better nowadays, was still risky, especially if she was unmated. It could lead to some unwanted attentions. Which was why as soon as she found an alpha suitable enough, she entered a relationship with him.

His name was Killian and he was a musician by trade, playing in dingy bars for some tips. They dated all throughout college and when they finished they moved to Boston together to start a life. She wasn't particularly into him, but she had grown to like him and tolerate him. And he was very into her so it made things easy as she didn't have to try as hard to make things work.

This was all great because Emma was interested in finding a gallery to show her art in. She'd already spoken to some smaller ones but her big goal was to get into Mills Gallery. It was known for housing unique and thought provoking art which could be incendiary. Emma wanted badly to be there and most of the art she made fit into that type of category. But she figured she wouldn't have a chance there until she sold some work in some minor galleries first.

So while she wanted for her art to sell, she milled around and looked at the art offered in the Mills gallery.

It was only when three years had passed and that Emma had gained some sort of name for herself in the art world, that she finally attempted to get into Mills Gallery and to her surprise, she made it in.

Regina was meeting with a prospective artist today. She had had her assistant down at the Boston HQ send her some photos of the work and found them intriguing. So she was flying down to speak with one Emma Swan herself.

The event was casual and yet Regina came prepared in her armor as usual. Power heels, shapely dress clinging to her curves, matching jewelry and black lipstick. It was her signature look, one that people did not mess with.

The meeting would take place in the art gallery back room where there was always a small showcase room for artists to put up their wares so Regina could see how they would look against the wall. It didn't matter what the artists speech or spiel was. All that mattered was how those lights would come filtering down on the work and how buy-able it looked in those few seconds. Regina had selling art down to an almost exact science.

And while Regina took her time in drawing out her step to the room her artist was waiting for her in, Emma was nervous as all hell. She had dressed nice for this event, in a white button up shirt and black slacks, hair swept back in a ponytail. And Killian was here for moral support, and while he was wearing skinny jeans, at least they were black and leather.

And he was being incredibly nice too. Not cursing or burping as he typically did. He knew this was a big deal and he wanted to make it go as smoothly as it could for Emma. She appreciated that.

The door clicked open and in strode in the art director.

Immediately nothing was ever the same for the two of them.

Both stiffened as if they had been bolted to the floor. Eyes wide, mouths slightly parted as they took in each others scent.

Regina smelled like cognac and smoke. The knowledge wasn't a shock. Emma had scented her around the gallery floor a couple times. Each instance it had only been a whiff. But it was enough that it had gotten Emma's blood stirring. Had made her hungry enough to go back home and ask Killian to fuck her until her body had calmed. Until she could forget the scent of it, replace it with Killian's scent of stale ale and coconut.

Regina not only smelled stunning, she looked stunning too. Long legs accentuated by power heels made to step on people, a curve hugging dress, and a facial structure that could inspire art if it already hadn't.

Emma already knew it would inspire hers.

She knows she's not in heat but her body is reacting oddly. Growing hot and she finds her breaths getting quicker. Shallower. Her cheeks heat up. She swallows loudly.

Regina's not having a better reaction.

It's her. The person she's been scenting in her gallery ever so often. Except those had been traces of her scent. Now she's hit with a room full of her pheromones. And it hurts. Hurts so bad because she sees an alpha by her and she wants him gone. Wants his scent away. It's marring the daffodils and daisies and pure sunshine that Emma is. Her hair emulates golden rays and her body is lean and fit but with generous cleavage. She smells so good. How is it possible to smell so good? Is she in heat? She has to be in heat.

This hurts. This hurts. Regina tenses her body, but she's hard. Reacting most inappropriately to her client.

The man with the awfully styled beard speaks. "Uh, it's nice you could have us. Ems really been trying hard to get her art in here. Hasn't she." He sort of elbows her and it prompts her into speaking. She looks lost, harried, and she sticks out a hand. "Hi, I'm Emma Swan."

"Regina Mills," Regina snaps to afterwards. They shake hands, holding on for longer than necessary as each savors the touch of warm skin on soft skin. It's electric. "Glad you could be here."

"No problem. Anything for you," Emma hurries to say and nearly kicks herself. Way to sound needy. But Regina's interpreting the statement differently. Like Emma getting down on her knees for her and-

She takes a sharp inhale she hopes is silent and turns swiftly to the art, hoping she can calm down the mess that is down below her navel. If she doesn't cut it out, she'll be hard enough to show and she can't have that. She won't be embarrassed at her own meeting.

She tries to focus hard on the art. It's nice really. Exactly up her alley. But will it sell? She examines the texture of a metal sculpture. Peers down at the ridges and valleys of an oil pastel painting. But her head's spinning, dizzy with Emma's scent. It chokes her throat and she swallows harshly. It doesn't help that Emma feels compelled to hover next to her. Never close enough, making Regina's senses buzz with her presence in an annoyed manner almost, but never far enough so that Regina can breathe. And that man hovers around Emma, arm around her waist. Or on her shoulder.

Fuck. She bites the inside of her lip.

Doesn't he smell this? Smell how amazing Emma is?

Why doesn't he do something about this? Take her outside maybe?

Can't he smell her?

Regina feels too hot. Is she going into rut? She runs the dates in her head. No, she's due in two weeks time. It could no way come early.

Her insides clench as they cry out in pain. They're telling her to get closer to Emma. To get rid of that other man. She's getting angry now. Filled with aggressive need to be possessive.

His head jerks to her as she pretends to look over an art piece, chin in hand, around her midriff to prop the other one up. This isn't good. He's going to smell her arousal and aggression soon if he already hasn't.

She can't deal with this right now. She needs to leave.

"Excuse me a moment. I need to go bring the papers," Regina said and rushed out of the room as normally as she could, and then rushed to a restroom, her hands held over her front as discreetly as she can. She gets to her office and locks the door, phoning her personal assistant.

"Kathryn, can you bring Emma Swan the papers and close out the deal?"

"...you want me to close out a deal?" the shock is audible, palpable. "Are you okay?"

"No...I'm not. That's why I need you to do it."

"Do you need medicine? Need me to send help?"

"I'll be fine. It's just that something came up and I need to handle it, personally." Something came 'up' alright and it would be a personal matter to solve.

"Sure. I'll do it I guess." Kathryn sounds nervous. She's seen Regina close out deals but never done it herself.

"Just be tough. And you'll be fine. Leave the papers in the room and I'll get them later. Thank you." She hung up with a sigh of frustration.

This problem between her legs wasn't going away and she needed it gone now. Grumbling unhappily she went inside her office's personal section. Since sometimes she might need to sleep over due to long work hours, she had built a small room in the back that had a change of clothes, a bed, and a shower and toilet.

She went inside that room right now and took off her dress. She didn't want it getting dirty. Heels were hastily kicked off and she sat on her bed's edge, stroking hard, impatient to get off because her stupid hormones had ruined everything.

She jerked faster, twisted hard, eyes slipping closed as she pictured Emma in her head. She knew this was beyond improper, pleasuring herself to a client. To someone she would be working with, but she couldn't help it. When she tried to think of Robin, his face melted away into Emma's.

With one last pump she was cumming, splashing onto her stomach so she wouldn't make a mess. With a low groan of relief she flopped onto her bed.

She fervently hoped this was a one off thing.