ONE SHOT PROMPT CHALLENGE – 'Enigmatix can you please do a cross between the movie Pretty Woman and the song 'Hot' by Avril mixed with a steamy setting? And it would be nice if Emma was a dancer/stripper in a club!' Thanks to my readers and my beta reader for going through this with a fine teeth comb. I may be excellent with creating a scene but you are just gifted when it comes to stringing a story together, making ideas flow.

Title: When Emma Danced For Me

Summary: One year after Pan's curse, Regina goes in search of Emma in New York, discovering that she's a dancer in an exotic club. Dancing and prostitution has become part of her new life. But can Regina lure Emma out and get her to drink the potion? Or will the brunette's feelings for the blonde change everything after one passionate night?

Pairing: Regina Mills/Emma Swan [Swan Queen]

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"You make me so hot, make me wanna drop, it's so ridiculous, I can barely stop. I can hardly breathe, you make me want to scream, you're so fabulous, you're so good to me, baby, baby…" – Avril Lavigne

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All around the hustle and bustle in the warm yellow glow of the street lights, there was the occasional sound of heels metallically clicking on the cold, wet stone pavement around me. To create the scene would be something better left to an artist's detailed brush for the items. The people, the setting around me required a lively mind. And I stood there for quite some time clutching my purse as gloved fingers trembled. I quietly wondered if my mind could indeed process the chaos around me.

It was like a whirlwind of some sorts. A mixture of neon colors. Fashion that stretched my sense of acceptance and triggered a dislike from within me. Such fashion was disturbingly exotic, unusual and quite unlike anything I had ever cast eyes upon before. And as men sashayed past where I remained, my gaze lingered on the leather pants hugging their muscular legs. Necks ornaments with chains and earrings dotting earlobes, twinkling under the lights. Men with earrings. Women with baggy pants, shaven heads and flat chests who strut past me with hooded eyes; this tingled my senses a little too much.

Without a moment's pause, a chilled wind swept in and whipped my dark hair around my face, sending tendrils tickling my cheeks. Stinging my eyes. I was standing there like a figurine as my coat flapped around my knees. And I was clearly drawing attention as women whistled in my direction. Come to think of it, perhaps I shouldn't have been upset about their rude flirtations because it had been quite some time. A long time ago it had been when someone actually acknowledged me for my beauty from my world. But to come into this city that apparently never slept, to be noticed by strangers and whispered about as eyes roamed my figure. It clearly made a woman like me feel quite royal again.

They could all catcall me. They could corner me, step closer and try to get a rise out of me by hoarsely teasing me on. But my mind and heart was only focused on receiving the affections from one person. And since none of their eyes could ever match hers, because not one of them could manage to drown me in the haze of a distinct shade of emerald, then I they were a waste of my time.

A lady's peal of laughter interrupted my line of thought for a moment.

It was then when I considered her with angered eyes, my gaze lingering on those tight black leather pants, the way she clung desperately unto the man at her side. Their eyes were dancing with thrilled expectations, already swaying with intoxication as one pulled the other along. And everything just played colorfully like a movie around me as I stood there amongst the hustle and bustle. The spark of the night.

I was clutching this small pink card between my fingers as well, my red painted nails appearing polished to a gleam under the yellow streetlight. And as my eyes scanned the printed words, I could already feel the flutter of nervousness within me. It was like a stirring up of butterflies, someone waving a hand over a cluster of them. Almost instantaneously, my stomach felt bottomless as my heart prepared to gallop down a race course that possibly had no finishing point. Sucking in air through my teeth with shoulders hunched, my trench coat tied snugly around me, I considered the sign over the door again with cautious eyes.

The DRAGON CAVE

There I stood waiting, as if reconsidering all of this, doubting myself.

But I had to do this.

As people rushed past me with eager eyes, as the rain began to drizzle, sprinkling me with fine ice-like dots, I finally decided to get this over with. And with eyes lowered, I strode forward with a purpose.

When I reached the door, my entrance was blocked by a beefy man demanding to see my I.D. Taking the plastic card out, I brandished it at him with a smirk on my face. Was this even necessary? This should be done to minors and I surely couldn't appear to him as a minor, being a woman way past the age of eighteen. Feeling rather pressed for time though as he waved me in, I entered the club finally with fresh eyes. And upon my entrance, it dawned upon me in a flash that this was probably the very first time I had ever frequented a facility of this kind.

The thick beams of colored lights caught my attention when I first stepped up into the interior, resting a boot hesitantly on the platform as eyes swept the inside. It was entirely new for me, the pulsating music that echoed rhythms in your head and chest, overriding the sound of your heart and the racing of your thoughts. Meshed with the smell of sweat, musky and intermingled with sex, the sharp tinge of leather and everything else underlying, I scrunched up my nose and scrutinized the sea of faces. She had to be somewhere in the midst of this hurricane of colors. And my motivated mind was driven to seek her out, to find her. But there wasn't a familiar pair of eyes that greeted me. No. What I saw was groups of people here and there, a wide expansive dance arena with blinking lights under the floor.

And the dancers on the platform risen high off the glitter coated ground, away from the crowd and on display for everyone to see.

I figured that my destination should lead me further inside, although I had no expectations of staying. But that had to be done if I was to accomplish anything. Making my way towards nowhere in particular, trying to appear determined on my path, I ended up sliding into the crowd. And very soon, my boots led me to the bar that served as counter, stretching all the way around the establishment and lined with black cushioned leather high stools. Labelled bottles of all colors dotted the shelves from where I stood, and as my mind selectively glazed over the assortment of liquor, the hands of waitresses snatched them from their waiting positions. Licking my lips and suddenly needing a sip of something soothing to wet my mouth, I wondered what brands of poison they served in the world today. I sat upon one of those same stools quite primly. The feel of my red turtleneck dress choking me around the neck, locking off my breathing. And my hand reached up to tug at the fabric. Then reaching down, I self-consciously yanked the bottom of my dress further down to stretch over my knees, eyes focused forward.

"What can I get you, hun?"

Turning around, my eyes met a pair of green ones belonging to a red head who had obviously squeezed herself into that shimmering silver dress. "A fruit punch," I said directly, my gaze sweeping over her attire, considering the woman before me. She leaned forward unto the counter to smile in my face.

"Aren't you pretty…"

I smiled in return. "Thank you…"

"And polite…" her hands worked below the bar as she readied my order, gaze still directed in my direction. "I like your dress. Red suits you. Brings out your eyes and dark hair…"

I couldn't say thanks again because I'd sound overly polite so I diverted my eyes to consider anything else before me. Where everyone in this world Emma came from so…courageous with their intentions? Flirtation appeared to be a subject that was effectively taught and digested like a second language. And as the music upped its tempo, as the announcer shouted for everyone to 'party like there was no tomorrow!' I then chose to survey the area carefully once more. This time, my eyes combed the sea of faces slowly, seeking out, searching, concentrating and expecting.

"Looking for someone?"

Barely glancing in her direction, I reached out for the tall glass of pinkish blend, a slice of pineapple stuck on the rim. "Yes."

"Someone who works here or…" she was fishing. But I couldn't care less for her mind games or interest in me for I hadn't come here to mingle, flirt or encourage advances from anyone.

"Emma…" I said quietly. It was then when I realized that my throat had closed up from the thought of her, just saying a name. "Emma Swan…" I tried again, my throat rather scratchy.

"Ohh…"Green eyes widened. "Yeah, she works here."

Well that confirmed everything else. And finally focusing my attention on her, I waited, suddenly losing interest in the contents of the glass I grasped between my fingers.

"You a friend?" her fair skin was unblemished. Her face was smooth and layered with foundation with a careful hand. I nodded. She laughed a girly laugh, one that itched at my nerves and triggered a kind of unsettling disgust in me. "Well she's somewhere around here, just use your eyes and you'll find her."

The nerve… I watched her saunter off, hips swaying as she picked up a tray. And my eyes returned once more to seek out the reason I had come here in the first place.

New York.

It had been one year I recollected to myself as my eyes roamed the crowd, one whole year after we had bid our heartfelt farewells. And I could still remember the gathering at the town line almost as if it had occurred seconds ago. What could appear as a lifetime ago felt like a fresh memory to me because it was one that kept replaying inside my mind. It was almost like the press of her kiss upon my forehead, the refreshing warmth of her lips still lingering on my skin even after such a long stretch of time. But the kiss always strangled me by being just an illusion. All this time, nothing else was remembered by me but that departure, that moment in time when I had let them go: our son and his other mother.

I had come back for them.

After so long, here I was. You'd wonder why it took me so long, but a couple months ago, I wasn't even sure that we'd see each other again. I wasn't even certain of where my life would lead me, whether the torture would be prolonged and become a deadly end result. Had it not been for my silent driven motivation after all this time, then maybe I would have already met my demise. You can hold fast to hope, but after some time, even if you are strong, holding unto a flicker of a possibility was a tremendous challenge. And that's what had happened to me. I honestly believed that I would never see them again. But here I was and even if this was another challenge, still my path had led me here. I had made it this far for a reason. I had held unto that hope with all my heart. And nothing could stop me now because if I couldn't see her again, if I couldn't see my son again, then I'd have no choice but to fear the worst for myself.

If it could make things simpler for anyone who cared to listen, I had always loved my son. I had loved him with a passion. And with that same passion, I had attacked his mother, trying to drive her away. Then whilst doing that, whilst I tried to fool myself into believing otherwise, I began to realize that there couldn't be one without the other. She couldn't be there without him. I couldn't live without either of them. My heart couldn't beat alone without her. And above all, every second spent away from her choked me, strangled me with despair because realization hit me like a slap on the face. After all this time I had deeply been drowning in my love for her, my attraction for this woman threatening to destroy my sanity.

That's why I was here.

I had to find her even if she couldn't remember me at all.

Digging into my small red purse, I fished out payment and slid it across the black tiled counter towards a man who was dressed in a tight black leather onesie. He had eyes of blue that one could become lost in within seconds, drowning eyes that mesmerized me. And tearing my gaze away from him, I stood up with my glass in hand. Then I stepped forward and decided to slowly investigate the place, because I had to find her.

And I did find her in less than two minutes.

With my eyes wide, I believed that all the blood had rushed up to my head when her location was sought out. And as my vision swam from shock, as my eyes became lost in the haze of my doubt, doubting her performance, her position, a a shudder rising up from within me as I became overwhelmed. Trying to focus through the pulsating, reverberating beats of the music, I found what I came here for.

There she was on one of the iron platforms high above the ground, dressed in red leather long tights, a bra made of sequins and studs, the swell of her breasts above them parching my throat. And as she held unto the silver pole before her, as she dipped low and slid her sweat soaked body upwards, her blonde hair fanned out into a million tendrils. As she parted her pink glossed lips, as her emerald eyes lined with black danced with the flashing of lights, I pressed a hand to my lips and swallowed a gasp.

I believed as much as it stunned me to see her like that, the one thing that sparked disbelief in me was how fucking hot she appeared up there. And I instantly was captivated by her, fascinated by her. A body I had never cast eyes upon like this, the exposed skin that made her tank tops and jeans appear too much, making me feel as if she had always been overdressed. But now she wasn't. I could clearly make out the outline of her figure as she danced in the air, her muscular upper thighs, toned legs and arms. The way she danced as if it was she alone and no one else: her fluid movements had me staring at her for such a long time, I believed I appeared like psycho gawker standing in the midst of everyone.

Catching myself and glancing around, I realized that there was one other person who was as captivated as I was. And he was clearly so intoxicated, that he appeared frozen on the spot, a smile stretched on his face as maddening eyes watched. Somehow, as she twirled and gyrated, as she kept doing so without ceasing movements, I almost dropped my glass. It was because my grip had become anything but firm, my knees weak as I stood there like a child gazing upon a spectacular toy on display. No one else was watching me. People would watch her.

So I took advantage of the scenario. Choosing a stool this time that had her in my line of sight, I sat down slowly as my thighs squeezed closer. And carefully lifting the glass to my lips, catching the straw between my trembling lips, I watched Emma dance hot and wild before me. Very soon, the feelings within me that had been like a dull throbbing sensation for months now, they returned. My feelings for her were awakened like that same rush of butterflies stirring up within me. And as she caught the pole between her legs and squeezed, spinning around in a circle, I stopped breathing.

The rush inside my head was tremendous like a wave, my heart stomped dead as the music pulsated around me. And my mind just became lost in guilty fantasies. I began to envision her like I always had dreamt of her after our departure. It could only take a drastic change in your life to make you realize what you were truly feeling. And after I had let her go, it was then when the fantasies kept haunting my nights, even forcing me to daydream. Our bodies entwined between sweat soaked sheets as she gasped against my flushed cheek, fingers pressing into me, mine doing the same to her as we drove each other over the edge. Breathless, I would wake up clawing the bed under me, eyes wide as I could see, I could feel only so much, but I never felt her inside me because she had been a ghost.

But things could happen so fast. I could sit there all night and watch her dance. I could fantasize and envision things. And the truth still remained: that she only saw right through me many times that night. She only considered me once when I was gazing upon her. And no familiarity passed between us. That alone succeeded in slicing me with pain, possibly like a knife slashing me with realization, the truth. This wasn't what I thought it was. She couldn't remember me at all. I could only push my hand into my right coat pocket and close my fingers around the vile of potion. I could only ponder on the possibility of an introduction. But I could never be certain about getting her to drink my concoction without force.

That's why after checking my watch and realizing it was after midnight, I finally rose from the stool and felt my muscles sting my thighs. After watching her one more time, after she stopped to cheer towards the man who bellowed announcements over the music, her eyes flashing with excitement, I hugged myself. I kept looking at her, wanting her to look at me. But she never did. All she chose to do was to focus her attention elsewhere when there was a time where I could get her attention if I wanted to. It's because we had a connection, we had something. We had familiarity. I could always succeed in getting a response from her, always used to be able to push her, to spark her.

Not now. Instead men approached her from all corners like hounds with eyes hooded from lust, lust driven by her movements and her beauty. Hands were outstretched as they tried to touch her gyrating body, money was folded and pressed unto the floor as her boots stomped over her payment. And they just kept increasing in numbers, crowding her with wild fascination as I stood there and I just kept looking at her. Maybe my driven passion within me forced me to step forward, or maybe it was the fact that I became angered by their hungry infestation on the woman I loved. But as soon as the distance between us narrowed, she entwined her fingers with a tall man dressed in a black tuxedo. And ducking under the railings, Emma's face stretched into a smile as she licked her lips.

I watched her dance off with him and realized that I was no one at the moment. I was just a woman to her, a gawker, not Regina, not the 'almost' friend she had barely grown to tolerate. No. I was enveloped in a cloud, meaning nothing to her at all.

I left there with tears burning my eyes. Hugging myself, I exited the club with my head lowered and as my boots clicked against the pavement, I wondered if this was a mistake. When the others hadn't the slightest idea, I had left them all to come for her, to find them. Leaving Storybrooke had been dangerous, had been new to me because I had never left before to venture outside that town. After driving over the town line, it was up to me, my destination to be sought out. That had been a hectic day for me, a nervous day, to drive, to just drive and find my way here. And now when I did find her, I was leaving.

This whole place was different. Where Storybrooke lacked buildings higher than two floors, this town had skyscrapers as they called them. Skyscrapers to me but possibly an overstatement to others… Then again, I had lived in a castle that stretched a far way upwards. Needless to say, that night as I secured my car in the populated parking lot and took the elevator upwards, I felt empty. Even the feel of the compartment moving upwards didn't humor me. It didn't spark some kind of fascination in me. I moved like a drone, eyes lowered as the keys dangled from my fingers. And I searched the sixth floor of the hotel for a room labelled 222.

After closing the door behind me, after pulling off my gloves and resting them on the small vanity beside the bed, I shrugged off my coat. Then resting it neatly upon the chair that occupied the room, my eyes scanning the area, I flung myself on the bed. The feel of the cool satin sheets under me soothed my exposed thighs, my fingers gripping the fabric as I squeezed my eyes shut and kept seeing her over and over again dancing before me. I kept…seeing her…kept…having these feelings. I wanted to do so much more but I was afraid. I could snatch her, immobilize her and force feed her the potion but then that would be too risky.

At three in the morning, I fell asleep and as dreams of her chased me, tormented my feelings, I drifted in and out of illusions.

The next night which was a sick, cold and rainy Friday night, I frequented the dizzying club again. But this time I had one intention in mind for I wouldn't leave without her 'seeing' me. I wouldn't slid off from that high stool and quietly walk out of there without some action done on my part. No. I'd venture in there, I'd seek her out and somehow, something would be done to focus her attention on me.

That night was themed 'The Wild West' as I noticed upon stepping inside, the dirty brown words scrawled across a chiseled caramel colored board in the small clustered lobby. And after sucking in air through my teeth, pressing my palms upon my upper thighs to gather composure, in I stepped. But this time my feet didn't quite lead me to a selected stool for I walked through the crowd immediately. Slipping through the dancing faces like a thief slinking through the shadows, my eyes searched for her. My boots pressed upon a glitter covered floor that dazzled under the glowering lights. Heart racing, I scanned the platforms in the air, and observed the dancers dressed in their different attire tonight.

Cowboys, cowgirls, sombreros with cute colored bows attached to the brims. Knee high rodeo boots, buckles that winked at me from all directions. And there she was on the fourth platform but a lower one…just two feet from the ground. Wearing black denim capris and a rose red blouse that was knotted to the front, my eyes widened from the sight of her. If I thought the night before had been captivating from where I had stood, then tonight was bewitching. It was amusing how her difference in behavior, her different attires had sparked such feelings within me for I absolutely adored her 'Wild West' look. The sight of her washed me over with a sense of humor that tickled my throat and pinched my eyes because she looked really cute.

With her blonde hair parted and braided into two, stray strands covering her left eye as she danced, I actually smiled. I smiled and feeling for a stool behind me with my gloved hands, there I sat not more than six feet away from her as she stomped in time with the music.

I knew this song. In fact, on my way here I had heard it on the radio. It was a club version to the song 'Wild Wild West' by Will Smith. And gripping the shining metal bars in front of her, Emma's emerald eyes focused on the stage to the far right of the club as a smile tugged at her red painted lips. Just looking at her lips made me lick mine. I felt entirely dirty from just my thoughts that raced through my mind as I carefully scrutinized her figure.

"Look whose back again!" red head said as she swayed past me, carrying a tray of concoctions. This time she was decked out in a dress made of colorful beads, the lack of wearing a bra quite evident underneath. And reaching out carefully, she poked my right arm then winked. "Back to see Emma dance, huh?"

I barely smiled.

"Why don't you take off your coat, love?" she suggested, balancing the drinks high up as people squeezed by, laughter filling the air. "If you want her to notice you, you need to show what you got!" and dancing away, eyes focused on Emma, I watched as she approached the woman who I had all eyes for. Stretching a hand out, blue neon nails poked her and as their eyes met, heads were lowered as the red head whispered something. And then she was gesturing towards me with a smile, dancing rhythmically with Emma.

The moment she glanced in my direction, I believed that I stopped breathing.

And then as our eyes met, Emma smiled. She smiled at me and I honestly believed for a moment that my face appeared familiar but after living in that false hope for quite some time, I eventually came to my senses. As the annoying red head sauntered off, as the music upped its tempo, her gaze was diverted, snatched away from the concentration to dance more, to gyrate more. Yet I kept watching her with a longing, my throat parched from my desire, the hunger inside me as I yearned for her. This fire within me kept sparking more and more as I sat there.

My desire for Emma rose from a simmer to a sparking flame that danced up my thighs and enveloped me a cloud of passion. The passion was so arousing, so tantalizing that my fingers immediately gripped my bare thighs. And as I swallowed a moan, my tormenting mind driven by the need to feel her hands on me, my fingernails drove pathways across my sensitive skin. This was too much for me and I cautiously tasted the thrill of that climatic moment, feeling her with my eyes, roaming her strenuous body that folded and twisted around the pole. Then biting my lips, I found the need to arch my chest forward,

It was then when I lifted my hands, fingers gripping the corners of my coat. And pulling it apart, I kept my eyes on her. I wished it, wanting it, concentrating on her, my eyes burning as I selectively drowned everything else around me into nothing. Everything else disappeared, the gyrating bodies, the smell of sweat and sex, the commotions, the passing waitresses. I turned all of it off except the music that reverberated around me, drowning me, filling my head with intoxicated sensations.

Immediately her eyes danced across the crowd and met mine in front of her. Her gaze wavered for a bit and then as I maintained eye contact, as my heart raced in my chest, I slowly pulled my coat apart in front. Legs crossed, the heels of my boots hooked on the stool under me, I focused on her and shrugged out of the over excessive clothing I had worn. Then folding it, our eyes never leaving each other as she danced, I sat upright and watched her with hooded eyes. As if completely overwhelmed by me, Emma suddenly stopped dancing. She ceased all movement and gripping the bars, her lips parted as emerald eyes roamed my figure, down to the swell of my breasts over my purple velvet dress. Eyes roamed all the way down to my exposed thighs, then upwards as I reached up and tucked my hair behind my right ear.

I was completely astonished from her reaction. It shocked me so much that I believed even my composure was being lost from the way she was looking at me. It was a look I had never seen before, had never been the subject of focus, had never been lucky enough to receive. It was a look heavy with attraction, and as she struggled to match the beat once more with the tapping of her boots upon the platform, I tilted my head sideways, studying her. And then it was my turn to take a roam over her body as she watched me. Slowly, I took in her lips and then my eyes traveled to the swell of her breasts, exposed skin that glistened with sweat and then her muscular thighs. I searched between her legs, and allowed my gaze to linger there. Then flicking my eyes back to meet hers, I believed that I absolutely and completely succeeded in sending her the impact of my intentions.

"What can I get you, hottie?" asked a waitress from the corner of my eyes.

"Something strong," I said, never glancing in her direction.

A glass was offered in my direction and I reached out absentmindedly to take it. And bringing it closer to my lips, I took the straw teasingly between them and kept my gaze on the blonde in front of me. Then standing up, I turned around on my heels and slowly made my way through the crowd in her line of sight as my boots led me to the dance floor. What the hell was I playing at? What was I doing? I had no idea but my mind took over, my racing heart fueled my desires and with my coat draped over my right arm, I turned to face her. Then slowly matching the rhythm, never catching the upbeat pulses but staying underneath, catching the slowest motions, I started to dance.

As she kept her eyes on me, a smile tugged at her lips as I found myself squeezing my thighs together then closing my eyes, my mind found the music. And I stayed with it. My hand caressed my midsection, all the way upwards, fingers pinching the top of my dress as I teased myself in front of her as people danced around me. I could feel them moving around me, could feel the pressure and the smell of bodies. I could feel her eyes on me. And I never allowed mine to flutter open as slowly turning on the spot, I gyrated sensually, fluid movements, fingernails pressing on my thighs as they drove pathways upwards. This was so new to me for I had never…done something so thrilling, feeling the rush, the energetic ride of passion to capture attention and hold it. And I liked it, I favored it highly.

But what I didn't detect was her ducking under the bars of the platform, and jumping to the floor, her boots pressing unto glitter, Emma came towards me. As if sensing her approaching eyes, I turned and my gaze met hers, she stopped. She held our gaze and watched me dance, watched me all the way, eyes roaming my gyrating hips. And taking tentative steps forward, completely mesmerized in me for I could see how her eyes were hooded with desire, only a foot separated us. She was that close in proximity that I completely lost myself in her emerald eyes.

Emma stood there and watched me.

I continued to dance slowly, my heart hammering in my chest as her eyes focused on me. Stepping closer to me, my gaze wavered to her right hand that reached up tentatively, closing the distance between us. Fingers whispered against my right shoulder as if feeling my presence, trying to discover if I was an illusion. And then as our eyes danced, as her hips began to sway, matching rhythm with mine, I stretched out a hand and gripped her shoulder. Pulling her close was a challenge for me because I could not feel my fingertips. Numb they were with the rush, the thrill. My knees were growing weak, head spinning as we moved closer and she danced with me. But the small stretch of distance between us still felt like we were an ocean apart.

"You're amazingly…hot," I watched her lips move, wetting mine as I longed to kiss her right there and then.

"Thank you."

And we danced. But we never touched intimately, just the brushing of fingers against skin as we assessed our attraction. Even though I wished to have her do more, to have me do more, I welcomed the hesitation and gave her room to do as she pleased. Yet after we were each other's partners for a moment that captivated me in bliss, Emma's eyes wavered over to the bar. And I trailed her line of sight, detecting a man standing there dressed in a tight suit and a top hat, smoking from a pipe. When he noticed me observing his intrusive eyes turned to focus on me. And haughtily he considered me, then after scrutinizing me from top to bottom, a hand was lifted as he sent Emma a hand signal.

I was a bit puzzled, narrowing my eyes as I focused on her, searching her face. And as she turned to look at me, a hand was lifted to squeeze my shoulder. Then she winked.

"I have to go..." she was smiling.

My eyes pinched with worry. And I reached out a hand to signal my objection. "Why?" I asked.

"Job calls…dancing…got to entertain."

"You're entertaining me already," I pointed out bravely.

She appeared in deep thought for a moment then leant in closer but not too close. "Are you going to…pay me?"

I was flabbergasted. "What?"

"Payment…" she said. "It's my job here." From the corner of my eye I saw the man approaching slowly. And she obviously noticed too. "I don't give free calls or…casual company, or…I don't give anything for nothing in other words…"

"Emma…" he warned quietly, his voice low but sending out his warning loud and clear, "get back to work."

"Yeah," she turned to consider him with a smile. And a hand was waved towards her vacant platform. "I'm going. I was just…"

"Idling," he said firmly, smoking his pipe. "And idling doesn't earn any of us money now does it?"

She stalled a bit. "No it doesn't but…"

"No buts," and giving her one last look, throwing me a glare as well, he turned around and made his way slowly towards the bar once more, assessing the activities around him with his eyes.

"I have to goo," she said softly, tilting her head sideways as my gaze returned on her. "You're…really hot and…a great dancer…but I need to get back to my job." And turning on the spot, she took one step away from me then turned around, lifting a hand as her eyes met mine again. "What's your name?"

At first I hesitated in answering because it actually sounded like a silly question on her part. But then remembering the situation, I stopped scrutinizing her with confused eyes and smiled shyly. "Regina…"

"I'm Emma," she said returning my smile. "I love your dress by the way. You really shouldn't wear that jacket to cover yourself…up. You're really attractive."

My throat pinched with emotion as I stared at her. And with burning eyes, eyes that stung from tears, I nodded slowly. "Thank you, Emma."

Emerald eyes were squinted suddenly. "Wait, have we met before…because you…look…familiar…"

I held my breath.

"Noo," she said shaking her head immediately, and a smile was offered. "I'd remember you…a woman like me don't just forget a pretty woman when I meet one."

And turning around once again, I stood there and watched as she approached the platform. It's where she was supposed to be as her mind had woven around that belief. Memories that I had supplied her with were held as a firm foundation but I was never responsible for what she chose to build them up with. What she did after that departure, after we had said goodbye hadn't been up to me for the gears were in her hand. Now this is where she had found a job and this was her life, the one that had been chosen. All I had to do was accept it for the time being until the potion could be effective, or used for that matter.

But I just…let her walk away from me. I could have stopped her, done something. It felt like déjà vu. It felt terrible to watch her leave me standing there. And after her movements began to match the music, after her eyes were focused elsewhere, anywhere but on me, I decided to give up for the night. Swinging my coat around me, eyes lowered, I stepped away from the dancing crowd and my boots led me further from where she swayed. Her eyes could be felt on me as I created distance between us. I felt the sensation of a watchful gaze, and welcomed it.

Leaving there that night I felt like a failure.

But I went back the night after.

I kept my distance and watched her. And it dawned upon me that I couldn't spend the rest of my life frequenting here just for this purpose only. This hadn't been my intention to begin with. First night in I should have already made my move. But the situation was delicate as it already was. One couldn't force the truth upon someone just like that, that they belonged to this…family who were…fairytale characters from a book. Well…even I was a fairytale character. And to ask her to drink a potion that would restore her memories, no that would be too over the edge. I'd have to create a plan.

One was already forming in my head.

That night my preference of clothes had been simple: a pair of black tailored pants with a red silk shirt. The usual Mayor-like attire: nice long sleeved jacket, high heels and lipstick. Eyeliner was an added touch, and my intention was to somehow jog her memory although I knew for a fact nothing remained inside her head that linked me to her past. What a short past we had that absolutely felt like many years spent together. It was something ridiculous, to expect something when nothing come arise from this. And upon sitting on the stool, refusing to order anything, I focused my eyes on her and enjoyed the view.

Tonight she was dressed in a blue long sleeved shirt, buttons undone except for one that kept her bra slightly exposed. And a pair of black short pants that killed me. The way her muscular legs were exposed, knees bent as she dance and gripped the pole in front of her, swinging around neatly. The way she lifted a leg and leant back low, her blonde hair fanning out around her, I became lost in her motions. Since it was Saturday night, the club was packed like a sardine tin, leaving no room to move around. And sitting just where I was, there I remained for quite some time.

Business was busy tonight, men gawking at Emma more than ever now as she danced. And many times one would reach out and press a money bill unto the floor of her platform as their eyes appeared to pop out from their skulls. Some passed by and whistled, others called out to her, asking her to dip it lower and bend it low, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever part of her that erotically excited them. But me, I sat there like a patient customer. I clutched my small purse in between my hands and observed them all as even women became lost in her.

Then when the tempo of the music changed, when a stage show began to the back of the club and everyone's attention was focused there, Emma stopped. Lifting a hand, she carefully wiped her brow and sighed, pressing fingers at the corners of her eyes, checking to see if her eyeliner had leaked away from the neatly drawn work by her own hands. I watched a man approach her, someone dressed in a suit and after snatching her attention, she bent down to catch his words as he called up to her. Then laughing in his direction, her hands gripped the railing as she slipped underneath. Very soon, I watched them walk off together and my heart pained in my chest for I immediately wondered if she had found someone else whilst in New York.

It was possible, the fact that a woman like Emma could find herself as an attraction for someone, preferably a man so quickly. She had done it before, had disregarded one only to end up being the focus of attention by another. That was Emma. She was so beautiful, so attractive and drawing that any man in their right mind would wish to be with her. Men always appeared to want her. And who was I to be another candidate? I was just another woman who was cutting in on their share, who was standing on the outside watching. She'd never actually consider me like that. But she had…she had been pulled to me last night. I must have sparked something within her. But no, I was referring to the past now, not presently.

Before when we were familiar, one year ago, that was my point of recollection. Those days, Emma never could see the way I wanted her. And everything always focused on the men in her life: Neal, Hook, Graham, August…and whoever else there was. I was always Madame Mayor or just Regina, or a monster, a villain she couldn't care less about. When you eliminated all of those things, all of what she knew of me, you were faced with the Emma who had sauntered up to me last night. The Emma who had met my eyes and danced with me without holding back, that was the one thing that bothered me. Eliminating who I truly was, she appeared to be drawn to me. But when she had known me, had known who I was and what I was capable of, Emma never ever looked at me with want in her eyes. She never shared my feelings, never directed affections my way that were relating to us being more than friends.

And that seriously affected me, it killed me.

Sitting there I felt like a fool because when I succeeded in having her drink my potion, and I was sure I'd succeed, then she'd forget about last night. We'd be back to level one and then I'd be the same old 'villain' again. I'd be the woman she used to know, the one who she tolerated and had worked with. In other words, I'd be the tool I was, or the destructive force, the woman who seemed to overreact and had no control. I'd be the broken evil queen.

Anyway, after some time she ventured back into the midst of the crowd in front of me. As laughter erupted, as people hugged one another and drank to oblivion, she snatched a glass and swallowed the contents in one go. Then patting a woman on her back, they exchanged words and laughed their own personal joke. Sitting there, I was the main focus of attention by one man who could not take his eyes off of me. He had chosen to sit two stools away to appear anything but obvious in his intentions. But I wasn't a late observer, or a blind woman. Turning my gaze to the bar, I quietly observed two men with toned arms as they lip locked each other, hands groping for each other, fingers snaking through sweat soaked hair.

"You like gay action?" Gasping, eyes wide, my head turned to the front as emerald eyes smiled back at me. Laughing, she tilted her head, her gaze managing to drink in my figure from my hair all the way down to my high heels. And blushing under the lights of the club, I shyly smiled, feeling my toes curl.

"I don't mind," I said softly.

"Look, about the other night," and she lifted a hand, appearing apologetic, "I'm sorry about the way I behaved, asking you for money and all that. But the boss was right there and when he's breathing down my neck, it's like, I feel pressured."

"He's the one who writes your paychecks," I noted.

"He collects more than half of my tips."

"That's not fair at all."

"Nothing's fair at all, Regina." Holding my breath, I gazed into her eyes and waited, feeling the thumping of my heart like a ritual drum as she stepped closer.

"You…remembered my name…"

"Did you remember mine as well?"

I smiled, "yes, Emma."

"You're a FED or something, aren't you?"

"I beg your pardon?" I asked.

"Tailored suit, short choppy hair, expensive watch, expensive heels…" reaching out bravely, she clipped the collar of my jacket, eyes lowered as her fingers slowly pulled apart the fabric, exposing my shirt that was unbuttoned halfway, "Victoria Secret black lace vest…" lips parted, our eyes met as she moved in closer, placing herself between my legs and towering above me just by a foot. "You're FBI, aren't you?"

"I can assure you," Her fingers caught my chin, lifting my head, "that I'm not a Federal Agent."

"Then who are you?" The music pulsated around us, cheers erupting.

"I'm…" but a finger was pressed upon my lips as I swallowed a gasp, already awakened from her touch.

"No, wait…don't tell me. It's better if I didn't know at all because then we'd be complete strangers."

"What if I wish for us not to be complete strangers?" I was bold, standing up in front of her as our bodies brushed against each other and we both felt the surge of passion between us. Swaying on the spot, she clutched me firmly around the waist, pulling me closer to her.

"Then you'd have to take me home."

"And what happens if we fall in love with each other?" moving closer, I allowed our lips to lie inches away as her eyes lowered to consider my move.

"You're such a tease, aren't you?" I felt her hand rest on the back of my right upper thigh, moving lower as she searched my eyes.

"I can be so much more."

"I really don't…doubt that at all." Caressing my face with her fingertips, she leant in, softly nuzzling our cheeks together as my head swam from desire, the smell of her, how blonde hair tickled my skin, her other hand seeking out my shirt, feeling her way around already. "Take me home with you," she whispered.

"If you insist," I purred, and as we fought to breath, holding back the kiss, she diverted her eyes to scrutinize the crowd. Then without hesitating, Emma entwined her fingers with mine and taking that as my cue, I must admit that my heart just wouldn't slow down as we both stepped through the crowd and drew closer to the exit.

A/N – So I already finished this story and had it under wraps for quite some time now. You can tell by how far back this went. Since Emma returned from New York! However, I've had it there lying around and decided to work on it. So it's going to be THREE chapters. I hope you enjoy and let me know what your thoughts are. As always, I love to hear from you.

LOSING MYSELF FOR HER is currently being worked on too, so have no fear. That story and THE QUEEN'S PRIDE AND PREJUDICE will be back soon!