𝑺 𝑾 𝑨 𝑵 𝑸 𝑼 𝑬 𝑬 𝑵

~6~

Emma felt absolutely absurd standing in the middle of the Queen's bedroom holding a pile of fluffy blankets in her arms.

After telling the sheriff that she could find the blankets folded in the hope chest in her study, Regina had nearly fallen over herself as she raced up the stairs to fix the mess that was the current state of her bedroom. Now with the remains of the shattered vase stashed in the trash, the broken picture frames hidden in the bottom drawer of her dresser, and the stubborn candle returned to its proper place behind her sink, the mayor's private sanctuary had once again been restored to its painfully regimented precision just in time for Emma to saunter through the door.

The blonde looked like a drop of chaos standing in the middle of the deceivingly meticulous calm; all unruly curls and nervous eyes and fidgety fingers, and Regina couldn't stop the small grin that was pulling at the corner of her lips. Emma radiated a wild kind of vibrance into the rigid room and Regina internally sighed in relief that she had managed to return it to its usual immaculate state before the sheriff got there.

Emma rocked on the balls of her feet as she surveyed the pristine environment until her eyes stuttered to a halt on something that didn't fit. "What happened to your mirror?"

A little of the color drained from Regina's face as she followed the Savior's gaze towards the fractured glass. Shit. She had forgotten about that damned mirror; the crack in her polished façade glaringly obvious in its tangible form.

But being groomed to be a politician had its perks and the Queen quickly covered up the unsightly truth with a lie, "Oh that old thing? I barely touched it and it cracked... can you believe it?"

Emma's eyes narrowed like she didn't, but thankfully she said nothing.

"Just put the blankets on the foot of the bed, dear."

Grateful for something to busy herself with, the blonde ambled over to the bed with her heavy load and leaned over to place the pile on the edge of the mattress. She was so fixated on not tripping over her own feet and making a fool of herself in front of Regina that she almost missed the mayor checking out her ass as she did so.

When Emma turned back around the brunette's eyes hastily darted upwards towards her face and the mayor wet her lips.

"Mmm," Regina hummed, looking around the room to distract herself. "Now what do I have that will fit you? I already know that we wear the same shirt size, since you seem to enjoy stealing mine so much more than you do buying your own."

Emma's mouth dropped open like she was about to protest but no words came out. Instead she settled for shoving her suddenly sweaty palms back into her pockets.

"Oh don't look so shocked, Ms. Swan; I'm not blind. And although I may be allowing you to stay in my house for the night, I am most certainly not about to let you dirty any more of my furniture with what you're wearing."

Regina rummaged through the second drawer of her dresser to return with a perfectly folded pajama set in her hands, which she promptly placed into Emma's with a pleased smirk curling up the corner of her lips.

"Um, thanks. These are really nice," Emma muttered hesitantly as she fingered the red silk top and matching pants. It looked more expensive than anything she'd ever owned, let alone had on her body.

"Everything I own is nice, Ms. Swan. And be careful with those!" she nearly squealed, swatting the blonde's questing digits away from the rich fabric. "It's one of my favorites."

Why Regina had decided to give her one of her favorite pairs of pajamas was beyond her, but Emma suddenly felt a faint blush beginning to creep up her neck at the thought. The mayor's naked body had probably been wrapped in these pajamas very recently...