There's a lot in Storybrook to get tired of. The shitty real estate market, the subpar restaurant selection, the bizarre fairy tale-esque lives of everyone here, the list goes on. Emma's writing it up in her head while she sips her coffee when Regina comes in.

"Don't you think this is getting a little old?" Emma says when Regina sits down across from her.

"I just wanted to know how your first day as a deputy went, Miss Swan."

Emma raises her eyebrows. "Well, I have town-sanctioned handcuffs and a license to arrest whoever I want, so I'd say it's going pretty well. Of course, I'd also say you might want to stay out of my way?"

Regina just smiles. Emma wishes she could make red lipstick look that menacing. Then again, she wishes for a lot of things when it comes to Regina. "Arresting me would be more trouble than it's worth."

"Yeah, we'll see about that." Go away, Emma thinks as hard as she can. She's not in the mood to deal with Regina, not after making the deal with Mr. Gold.

"Cute though this lovely little game of mutual intimidation is, I have a proposition for you, Miss Swan."

Maybe Emma will just handcuff the next person who calls her 'Miss Swan' to a manhole. "Fascinating. I'm sure it'll be something that's not an abuse of your mayoral power at all."

"Words with multiple syllables? You never cease to surprise me."

"Just cut to the chase, Regina."

Regina looks around before pursing her lips. If Emma wore close-cut silk shirts with tailored-looking pants, maybe she'd be able to look that disdainful too. Not that she's obsessing over Regina's clothing decisions, or anything.

Well, okay, maybe she is a little. It's easier to believe Regina's actually an evil queen when she's being all icy and disapproving in Emma's general direction.

"Henry will be in school tomorrow, and you won't be at work," Regina says. "Come to my home at eleven AM. Sharp."

"That's not a proposition, that's an order."

Regina just smiles.

Emma wants to smack the look off her face, but instead she says, "Fine. Have it your way. I'll see you then."

"Your coffee's on me," Regina says. She reaches out and brushes her fingers over Emma's hand. "Don't overdo it," she adds, and leaves.

Emma waits until she's out of the shop to shake her hand. It's stupid, but then, this entire thing with Regina isn't exactly the smartest thing in the world.

She shows up at eleven ten the next morning, wearing her old, worn tank top and scuffed up boots. If Regina's going to insist she's some kind of trailer trash vagrant, then Emma's not going to argue.

"Emma," Regina says when she answers the door. "Please, come in. Would you like some wine?"

"It's eleven in the morning," Emma says. "So, no."

"It's eleven ten, actually. The next time you make someone wait just to make them angry, at least don't be so precise about it. It defeats the purpose; you look meticulous, not sloppy."

Emma snorts, following Regina into her living room. "I'll start taking advice from you the day I decide being an ice queen is the way to live life."

Regina settles down in a chair, motioning for Emma to take the couch. "I'd like to talk about Henry," she says when Emma's sitting down.

"Is there ever anything else you want to talk about?"

"I care about him," Regina says. "I want only the best for him."

She's lying.

"You're not what's best for him," Emma says. "In case you hadn't figured that out already."

Regina laughs. "Miss Swan, please. We can snipe at each other like children all day, but that won't solve the problem."

"As far as I'm concerned, there's no problem." Emma's had enough. She stands up. "I'm done here. Have a good day."

She makes it to the doorway before an iron grip on her shoulder forces her to turn around. "Miss Swan, I wouldn't leave, were I you," Regina says quietly.

"Too bad. You're not," Emma says, and goes to leave.

"Let's make a deal," Regina says as she crosses the threshold.

Emma stops, but she doesn't turn around. "I'm not in the business of making deals."

She doesn't realize Regina's moved forward until she feels a cool hand on the small of her back. "What if I told you I could ensure you didn't owe Mr. Gold a favor?"

She shouldn't listen. She can't listen. She knows Regina is dangerous. But the look on Gold's face... "I'm listening," she says finally.

Regina's hand moves from the small of her back to her hip, and suddenly Emma feels like she can't move.

"Just this, Miss Swan. Nothing more."

"You've completely lost your mind if you think I'm going to agree to that," Emma says. It's not hard to keep her voice level; it is hard to ignore her impulse to grab Regina and slam her against the wall.

She's had sex with plenty of people before, many of whom she didn't even like. That's not unusual. But wanting it this much, this suddenly - Emma really should've recognized the signs and stayed fucking clear.

Bad choice of curse word, there.

"I think you will," Regina says softly. "I think you know exactly how miserable Mr. Gold could make you." She brushes a thumb over Emma's hip.

Emma has to clear her throat before she can talk. "What's in it for you?"

"The simple joy of watching you act foolishly," Regina says, and takes a step forward, moving her hand to the button of Emma's jeans.

Say no, Emma urges herself. Tell her to get bent.

But Jesus, then Regina's kissing her neck, and something in Emma breaks.

It's just sex with someone she dislikes. It's not like she's making a deal with the devil.

"Fine," she says, and turns around. Regina's too fucking close. Her lips are too fucking close. "But we do this my way."

Regina's smile is more of a smirk. "Which is?"

It's easy, so easy, to grab Regina's shoulders and spin them around, slamming her against the wall. "I'm not going to pretend I like you," she says, and kisses Regina.

Regina kisses back. It's hard, mean, the kind of kiss that Emma always feels guilty about the next day. Regina grabs her wrists, but Emma's not going to let her have any of that; she pulls free and tugs Regina's hair to tilt her head back and bite her neck.

"Get on the couch," Emma says, pushing herself away from Regina.

"I don't take orders from you," Regina says. "Sit down, Miss Swan."

Emma hates herself for how easy it is to walk over and sit down.

Regina matter-of-factly takes her narrow skirt off, then moves to straddle Emma. On anyone else it would be a gesture of - not submission, but close. On Regina, though, it's obviously just a strategy to be able to hold Emma still, keep her where Regina wants her. Emma gets back by biting Regina's shoulder.

"You're not very good at this," Regina says, sounding amused. "What makes you think I'd enjoy that?"

"What makes you think I want you to?"

Regina laughs at that. "As though you're the sort of person who doesn't want her partners to enjoy themselves," she says, and kisses Emma again.

It's Emma's turn to get her hair tugged, and fuck, she's getting wet. She grabs at Regina's shirt, tugging at the buttons as Regina scrapes nails down the side of her neck.

But Regina pulls away. "You first, Miss Swan," she says, reaching down and lifting the hem of Emma's shirt.

"Fuck you," Emma says, but she strips her tank off.

Regina leans back a little further, looking at Emma. Emma doesn't do anything stupid like blush; she stares back, trying to look like she doesn't care the Regina's lipstick is smeared and her neck sports bright red spots that Emma viciously hopes will last long enough to be embarrassing.

"Lie back," Regina says finally, standing up. "And take your jeans off."

The couch is wide; it's not hard. But when Emma kicks her boots off and then lifts her hips to slide her jeans down, she finds herself hating the way that position makes her feel, with Regina standing up and looking down at her.

When she's done, Regina moves to sit next to her. There's not that much room on the side of the couch, but she makes it look like a throne. "You'd let me do a lot to you," she says, running her nails over the top of Emma's bra.

"Fuck off," Emma says.

Regina digs her nails into Emma's skin. Emma bites her lip, and Regina smiles.

"That's what I thought," she says, tugging Emma's bra straps down over her shoulders.

She doesn't even bother to take it off, she just bends down and - oh, fuck. Emma stares at the ceiling for a second, then closes her eyes when her hips buck as Regina runs her tongue over Emma's nipples. "Take your shirt off," Emma says, trying for a steady voice.

"I don't think I will," Regina says.

That's easy enough to counter. Emma sits up and grabs Regina's shirt, wrapping a hand around the side of her neck. "That wasn't a request."

Regina smiles and unbuttons her shirt, leaning into the hand Emma has on her throat. Emma could choke her like this. Emma wants to choke her like this.

Instead, she pulls Regina on top of her, kissing her and cupping Regina's still-covered breast with her free right hand.

Regina's the first to spread her legs enough to arch her back and move against Emma's thigh. It makes Emma violently glad, even more so when she bites Regina's neck again and Regina's hips stutter. "You're not going to get what you want," Emma says, spreading her own legs and reaching down to tug at Regina's underwear.

Regina, though, sits back again. "Neither are you," she says, and pulls Emma's underwear down and then off, pushing Emma's legs apart.

Emma has a single second to be stunned before Regina's bending down and licking her, hard and slow. Emma bites her lip as Regina tongues her clit, running a hand down Emma's hips and down until her thumb is pressing just above Emma's clit as her tongue explores Emma's cunt. It feels like a threat, almost, and Emma wants to tug Regina's hair or kick her away or something, because the second she registers the threat she gets that much more turned on.

"Relax, Miss Swan," Regina says. She turns and kisses Emma's thigh, menacingly gentle. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then hurry the fuck up," Emma manages to say.

Regina laughs and slips her thumb lower, pressing down hard on Emma's clit.

Emma moans and closes her eyes again. Fuck, she shouldn't like this, but Regina's cruelly methodical and moving too slowly for it to be anything but a tease.

Regina winds her up and then pulls away, then winds her up and pulls away again. She ignores Emma's breathy, "Fuck you, you fucking ice bitch," and bites Emma's thigh when Emma tugs her hair. Emma's almost getting used to it when Regina slips two fingers inside her and thrusts hard as she sucks Emma's clit.

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you," Emma says, reaching out and grabbing the couch cushion. "You fucking bitch, you -"

Regina pulls off. "Language, Miss Swan," she says, twisting her fingers slowly.

"Fuck you," Emma says again, more clearly.

Regina laughs and runs her tongue over Emma's clit again. Emma bites her lip and throws her head back. She'll settle, right now, for just keeping her hips still.

She fails. And Regina rides her like that's exactly what she expects, fucking her and eating her out until Emma can't do anything but come, and then come again when Regina ignores her whimpers and keeps going. Her head is spinning by the time Regina finally moves away again.

She half expects Regina to wipe the back of her mouth with her hand, but she just licks her lips slowly, like she's savoring the taste. "You can leave now," she says, sitting back. "I think I know all I need to about you."

She's still wearing her bra and underwear, Emma thinks stupidly. "Not a chance," she says. "Not until you -"

Regina reaches out and presses a thumb against the bite mark on Emma's thigh, hard. It's barely any pain compared to what Emma's used to, but it derails her train of thought. And in spite of herself, her hips twitch a little.

"I said you can leave," Regina says. Her voice is pure steel. "Now, Miss Swan."

The look on her face is...Emma's never been spooked like this before. She's being stupid, she tells herself. Her head's clouded. She needs to get the hell out of there. "Keep your side of this," she says finally, standing up and collecting her clothes. "I don't owe Gold anything."

Regina's laugh is low and smooth. "Not anymore."

Emma can't even look at her as she makes her escape. There's something wrong with both of them, she thinks as she drives away. Who the hell eats someone out and then just sits there while they leave? Was Regina even into it?

Probably not. It was probably just one of her mind games. But Emma can't chase the image of Regina touching herself afterwards away. Just like she was, on the couch in her bra and underwear, with one hand tucked inside her underwear, fingering herself.

Stupid though that image is, it's not nearly as stupid as the twist in the pit of her stomach when she sees Regina the next day and notices her neck is as pale and mark-free as ever.

Emma obviously didn't bite as hard as she thought she did. That's it. It doesn't mean anything, just like the sex. It's not like gay sex is included in fairy tales. Emma's just let it spook her, is all.

One thing's for certain, though: it's not happening again.