Hi everyone! I know I probably shouldn't be starting a new fic, but I have had this one written for some time (for a different fandom, but with some alterations, I think it works much better as a Swanqueen story), and I figured I could post chapters periodically until I finish moving and have time to write for my other story.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I hope you're all staying healthy.

The sound of ceramic dishes clanking together, paired with the occasional crash of a pan landing on a stovetop assaulted Emma's ears as she swiftly made her way through the swinging door to the kitchen of L'Artusi, New York's top Italian restaurant- and the bane of her existence.

"Busy out there." August, the dishwasher observed, elbows deep in the soapy water that occasionally splashed out of the stainless-steel sink and onto the floor.

Emma nodded and placed a dirty dish in the sink, earning a grimace from August.

"If we close the dining room by midnight, I'll be surprised." She grumbled.

"Emma! Table thirteen, party of two!" The hostess and Emma's best friend, Ruby, yelled poking her head into the kitchen.

"Thanks, Rubes." Emma called back, unable to keep the clearly unenthused tone out of her voice.

With one more shared look from August, Emma steeled herself and moved into the dining room. She weaved her way through the white, linen tablecloth topped tables, and the occasional fellow server, even going so far as to duck under a serving tray that was coming directly for her forehead. As she passed some tables, she picked up empty glasses and plates, forcing a smile to the customers, and then dropping the dirtied dishes into a bus tub- choosing to ignore the sighs and groans of displeasure from the bus-boy. Finally, she made it to table thirteen and pulled out her notepad and pen, clicking the pen with certainty.

"Good evening, my name is Emma and I'll be your server tonight. Can I start you two ladies off with something to drink?"

"Your best bottle of Merlot, please."

The soft, liquid velvet voice of the customer forced Emma eyes up from her notepad. It took everything in her to keep her chin off the ground when she took in the woman before her. Her crystal clear, chocolate brown eyes bore into Emma, and a cocky smirk pulled at her ample, scarlet-painted lips. The woman's raven colored hair was coiffed perfectly and her tan skin glowed softly under the muted lighting of the restaurant.

"Y-yes, ma'am." Emma sputtered, clearing her throat and shaking herself out of the trance that the customer had put her in.

As she wrote the drink order down, she could feel the woman staring at her, still smirking. The other woman at the table- a tall, slender redhead with striking features- cleared her throat to gain Emma's attention.

"Would you please let Miss De Vil know that Regina Mills is here?"

Emma titled her head to the side a bit, taken aback. It wasn't every day a customer came in and asked for the owner by name. Regardless, she shook off her confusion and nodded.

"Of course. I'll let her know right away."

Tucking her pen back in the breast pocket of her crisp, white button-up shirt, Emma left the two women alone once again. Once she was gone, Zelena looked across the table to her half-sister and boss and shook her head when she saw her eyes glued to Emma's departing figure, darkening hungrily.

"Regina". Zelena drawled, her tone warning. "She's young."

"That she is." Regina hummed, leaning back in her chair, still wearing her signature smirk.

"Okay." Emma breathed, placing her serving tray down on the stand that she had placed there previously. She picked up both of the plates and placed them down in front of their respective recipients. "The branzino…and the orecchiette."

"This looks absolutely divine." Regina hummed in approval. "Thank you, Emma."

"Can I get you anything else?"

"I think we're quite alright for now." Regina responded.

Emma forced an even-keeled smile despite the way Regina's gaze made her knees go weak.

"Feel free to flag me down if you need anything."

"Hey, August." Emma whispered, pulling August away from the dishwashing station and pushing him out the kitchen door. "Table thirteen, do you know who that is?"

Emma watched as August's eyes widened and he all but shoved Emma back into the kitchen, just as Regina's eyes migrated towards them.

"Holy shit, Emma. That's Regina Mills!"

"Who?" Emma blinked.

"Jesus, do you live under a rock?" August sighed, rolling his eyes. "Her family owns like… all of Manhattan, and she's the CEO of her own architecture firm."

Emma's eyebrows shot towards her hairline and she stole another glance at Regina through the porthole-esque window of the kitchen door. She was smiling at something that Zelena had said, and for the first time, Emma noticed the black, leather Jimmy Choo pumps that Regina was adorning, and as her eyes grazed up Regina's legs, drinking in her expertly tailored suit, she realized just how much money the woman must have. It wasn't uncommon for incredibly wealthy people to come in to L'Artusi. The entire wait staff dreaded getting their tables; they were incredibly rude, and ironically- tipped like shit.

"She's hot as hell." August whistled.

"Oh, shut up!" Emma hissed, slapping him on the arm.

"Yo, August! The dishes are piling up here!"

With a groan, August jogged back into the kitchen, leaving Emma to hide near the waitress station. It was well past eleven now, and Zelena and Regina were her last table. As soon as they left, she could do the same. It wasn't her night to stay and clean up. Deciding that it had been a reasonable amount of time to let the two women socialize, Emma reentered the dining room and approached the table.

"Everything was to your liking, I hope?" She prompted, taking the empty plates from the table.

"Everything was delicious." Regina smiled. "Please, give our regards to the chef."

"Absolutely. Can I interest you in any desert tonight?"

Regina chuckled and shook her head, while Zelena stayed cold and silent.

"No thank you, Emma." Regina responded.

Emma smiled and reached for the checkbook that was tucked in the pocket of her apron, but Regina's hand stopped her. Between two of her perfectly manicured fingers was a sleek, black credit card.

"Here you go." Regina husked.

Emma swallowed hard and took the credit card before turning on her heel, handing the bus-boy the plates in her hand, and heading for the register. It took her a good couple of minutes to ring them up, seeing as her hands were a bit shaky from Regina's voice.

"What the hell, Emma." She thought. "She's just some woman. Calm down."

With nothing more than a polite smile, Emma handed the credit card back to Regina. She began milling around the dining room, discreetly watching as Regina placed cash down onto the table for the tip before both she and Zelena rose from the table and left. Just as they reached the front door, Regina glanced back, her eyes meeting Emma's and lingering for a split second. With a quick, sly wink, Regina turned back around and left L'Artusi.

Eager to leave the restaurant herself, Emma quickly strode over to the table that had just been occupied by Regina and Zelena. Her eyes fell upon the cash left Regina had left, and a burning, offended anger rose in her chest. Sitting on the table, practically mocking her, were two crisp, one hundred dollar bills. Just that tip alone was enough to cover half of her share of the rent, or pay for her groceries for an entire month, and Regina had just thrown it around like it was nothing. Angrily, Emma snatched the cash up from the table and stuffed it into her apron pocket along with all of her other tips from the night.

Once the table was cleared, Emma bolted out of the back door of the restaurant and made a beeline for her black Harley Sportster that was parked proudly in its usual spot. She pulled her helmet on, revved the engine of the bike, and tore from the parking lot- her blood still boiling from the insult of the tip that Regina had left. Her anger caused her to drive faster than normal, and she made it to the apartment building that she and Ruby lived in much sooner than she would have on any other night. She took the stairs up to the apartment two at a time, unable to stand the fact that she wasn't in bed, fast asleep. Five floors later, Emma was pushing her way into the apartment, grateful for the fact that both Ruby was still at L'Artusi, finishing up with the cleaning. Her leather jacket and helmet were discarded on the coat rack that stood by the door, and her uncomfortable work shoes were kicked off carelessly. By the time she was in her bedroom, her hair was down from its previously tied-back condition, and her shirt was untucked and unbuttoned, revealing her white lace bralette. Exhausted and pissed off, Emma flung herself onto her bed, not even bothering to undress any further.

Within five minutes, she was fast asleep.

Fancy CEOs really needed to guard their personal information better.

It took nothing more than a ten-minute Google search for Emma to find the building and floor that Regina Mills worked in. Of course, she was on the top floor of one of the tallest skyscrapers in the Financial District. And now here Emma was, parked directly outside the building, straddling her motorcycle and quickly filling with trepidation. As nervous as she was, she was ten times prouder, and she would not allow some sickeningly rich woman to pad her wallet for whatever reason had sparked Regina's overzealous tip.

With a clenched jaw, Emma removed herself from her bike and entered the building on a mission. She ignored the front desk clerk and made her way directly to the elevator, punching the button for the top floor with so much force, she was surprised it didn't break. By the time the elevator made it to the top floor, Emma was practically buzzing with anger.

The elevator doors opened with a dinging noise, and Emma was immediately greeted by a smiling receptionist.

"How can I help you?" She asked.

"I need to speak with Regina Mills." Emma informed her, placing her hands on the reception desk.

"I'm afraid that Miss Mills isn't able to see anyone at the moment."

"Bullshit." Emma scoffed. "She's the boss, she can see whoever she wants, whenever she wants."

Without another word, Emma marched down the hall, ignoring the confused looks from multiple well-dressed employees. She definitely stuck out like a sore thumb in her faded jeans, black hoodie, and worn leather jacket. Eventually, Emma came upon a corner office at the end of a long corridor. The one-way glass door had Regina's name printed proudly on it. Without so much of a knock, Emma stormed into the office.

Regina had been standing behind her desk, looking out one of her many, large windows with her arms crossed over her chest. When her office door opened, she whipped around with a burning glare that could have killed thousands. In a much unexpected twist, she was met with an equally as furious gaze from a certain green-eyed blonde that she had had on her mind all morning.

"Emma?" Regina questioned, softening her gaze and turning so she faced Emma fully.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Emma spat, approaching the stylish glass desk and throwing Regina's money down onto it.

Regina eyed the cash that Emma had returned, confused.

"I'm not sure I follow- "

"I get that you're probably one of the wealthiest women in the city, but I'm not interested in any kind of charity."

"Emma- "

"Just because I'm what you may see as a lowly waitress."

"Emma!"

"What?"

Regina sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger.

"Most people would take the money and run with it." She said flatly.

"Yeah. I'm not most people."

"Obviously not." Regina scoffed.

"Excuse me?"

More anger boiled within Emma when she saw how nonchalant Regina was with the entire situation. She watched with narrowed eyes as Regina lowered herself down into her desk chair and leaned back, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap.

"Why do you insist on being so offended?" Regina inquired with a tilt of her head.

"Why do I insist on being offended?" Emma repeated. "I will not allow anyone to see me as a charity case, especially not someone like Regina Mills. That's why I'm offended."

"Maybe I just wanted to get your attention." Regina challenged.

Emma let out an incredulous scoff and shook her head.

"I see I succeeded." Regina continued.

"Your money is not the way to get my attention."

"Then tell me." Regina smirked. "What is the way, Emma?"

"This is all a joke to you, isn't it?" Emma observed. "Your money is just a joke to you."

Regina gave a noncommittal shrug, anticipating the fact that Emma wasn't done speaking.

"People like you think that all the money in the world is at your disposal, while the rest of us actually worry about how we're going to keep our electricity on and our water running."

"I tried to fix that problem for you by leaving a generous tip." Regina rebutted.

"I don't need anyone to fix anything for me!" Emma exclaimed. "And for the record, it wasn't generous, it was braggadocios and insulting."

"So really, this is about your pride being bruised- not the money."

The small growl that rumbled in Emma's throat sent a surge of excitement through Regina. She liked the spunk that Emma carried with her- it was refreshing.

"I'm done with this." Emma spat. "People like you aren't worth the energy of fighting."

Furiously, Emma turned on her heel and started for the door. Just as her hand touched the cool, metal handle, Regina's low, modulated voice stopped her.

"Emma."

Emma looked over her shoulder with eyes narrowed into slits. Regina released a breath slowly and leaned even further back into her chair. The smug look on her face brought about a burning rage in Emma… as well as something else that she just couldn't place.

"Have dinner with me." Regina insisted.

Emma released a bitter laugh and shook her head, not even bothering to look at Regina anymore.

"That is one thing that no amount of money will get you."

And with that, Emma was gone, leaving a grinning brunette and two hundred dollars in her wake.