You and Tequila

Chapter Thirteen

"Miss Swan," Regina gasps as she yanks open her hotel door, her free hand anxiously fiddling with the necklace resting against her chest.

"Emma, remember we've moved passed all the formalities," she teases lightly. "Thought you could use a friend tonight after the day from Hell we suffered through."

"I don't need a babysitter, I'm not going to drink," Regina spits accusingly, her eyebrows drawn in anger, forcing that little vein to pop murderously in her forehead.

"Oh...well, then I guess I'll have to find someone else to help me polish off these bad boys," Emma fakes disappointment as she maneuvers the bottles from behind her back and frowns.

"Is...that...a root beer?"

"Two of them. I thought you could use some sugar," Emma concludes, smiling her most cheeky grin and steps passed a stunned Regina. "I also ordered us some cheeseburgers. I don't know about you, but my body is begging for some carbs and grease after that shitty hangover."

"I don't do grease...or carbs," Regina quickly adds on and softly closes the door with Emma inside.

"Well, tonight you do," she declares, shoving the cold root beer bottle into Regina's hand and then twists off her own cap. "You had a pretty shitty day and the only true cure for that is pigging out and venting about it." Emma clinks their bottles together and smiles from ear to ear. "Cheers!"

"You're an idiot," Regina exasperates, but still she's twisting off her own cap and Emma accepts that as a win. "You know that?"

"My mom says I'm eccentric."

Regina rolls those big brown eyes, but much to her own humiliation, she's actually laughing and that inspires Emma to laugh along as well. Regina nervously runs her fingers through her hair and Emma has an inkling that this gorgeous specimen isn't entirely sure how to act right now. She has drawn up her own conclusions and her answers always lead to Regina not having any true friends and spending most of her life in isolation. The celebrity is most likely only herself when she's belligerent and now she's sober and so unsure where to put her hands. Emma finds the fumbling quite endearing.

"So," Emma hops toward the California King size bed and climbs on like she's a small child. "I wasn't sure how you take your burger, so I ordered one medium and one well done. You can choose, I'm not picky." She waves her hand and happily sips her sugary beverage.

"Thank you," Regina shyly replies, staring aimlessly into her bottle and scratching her thumb against the rigid surface. "It's medium, by the way," she mutters mostly to herself, like she isn't certain if this piece of information should be exposed.

"Ah, me too, but honestly, I don't care. I'm just craving a fat juicy burger with extra grease and a thick bun." Regina smiles behind her thick tresses that have fallen to provide a barrier between her and the blonde. "Are you gonna take a seat?" Emma asks, raising both of her eyebrows curiously.

Again, woman of few words, crosses the hotel room and rigidly sits down on the edge of the bed, as if Emma is contaminated with some incurable disease. She proceeds to pick at her cold bottle, hating and loving that it's not actually alcohol, all at the same time.

"So, now that you are uncomfortable and at a safe distance, how much were you contemplating drinking before I showed up?" She boldly questions, tossing caution to the wind.

Regina's eyes coldly flick to hers with venom spewing out like laser beams, but Emma doesn't falter. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't play coy with me. You know it crossed your mind."

"It is now."

"Because I brought it up or because of my company?"

"Your company," Regina quips without skipping a beat, but is taken back when Emma just smiles in return.