You and Tequila

Chapter Fifteen

"Please just come, I swear nobody will recognize you in my shitty neighborhood," Emma pleads for the umpteenth time this morning.

"Just because your neighborhood is 'shitty' doesn't mean that people won't recognize me. No, Swan, absolutely not," Regina firmly rebuttals, ready to slam the door in the blonde's face for annoying her yet again.

"Peas, Gina! Come wiff!" Henry pleads, his big green eyes glistening while his long lashes blink slowly to help lay on the guilt trip nice and thick.

"This is a new low, Swan," Regina growls as her eyes drift toward the small pout that is identical to his mother's.

"I know, but it's working," Emma confidently claims with her most cheeky smile and that too cute dimple deepening in her cheek. "Come on, I have an idea. Just come to my room with me."

"That's never a comment I tend to obey."

"Well, you should reconsider, I'm very hospitable," Emma fires back, inspiring Regina to roll her eyes.

"Come on, Gina!"

"Yeah, Gina, come on!" Emma playfully mimics her son in her most adequate baby voice.

"I can't risk-"

"You won't get caught, I swear. Besides, nobody would ever think that you would be out in a scummy town of New York with a two-year-old. Nobody will notice," Emma implores again, trying her best to coax the singer into finally going out in public and having some fun at her block's, Taste of the Town.

"If I am spotted-"

"You won't be, now come on," Emma urges, curling her fingers around Regina's dainty wrist and tugging her away from her hotel's threshold.

The short distance between Regina's room to Emma's, the singer spends the entire time humming and grumbling her distaste under her breath. When Emma opens her door, Mary Margaret is sitting at the edge of the bed with a too proud smile, a brush and two hair ties.

"Oh good, you came," the older woman sighs in relief and pats the spot in front of her. "I'm going to French braid your hair into two braids."

"Absolutely not," Regina abruptly spins on her heels and collides into Emma's strong frame.

"Oh yes," Emma demands with authority, gripping Regina's bicep tightly and forcing her back into the room. "You always wear your hair down, that's how everyone recognizes you. Nobody would ever suspect you in two French braids," she explains, shoving the singer in between Mary Margaret's legs.

"Emma-"

"Shush," Emma smirks and rummages through the bag she asked her mother to bring with. "Now, you're going to wear my old soccer jersey," she pulls out the blue and white jersey and flashes the back off with a large number eight on it. "It says Swan, so that will throw people off if they start growing suspicious." She continues ransacking the bag and pulls out more items. "You'll wear this baseball cap and these dark sunglasses that will take up half of your face and you'll be good to go."

"Emma, that hat looks like it was run over by a tractor," Regina scowls.

"Good," she happily replies with a cocky smirk gracing her face. "I'll wear a baseball cap too and sunglasses. I promise nobody will ever know."

Mary Margaret gently slides her fingers through Regina's hair and immediately the singer feels her heart twist in response. Of course, she is accustomed to Ruby styling her hair every day, but there's just something about the delicate strokes of the brush and gentle fingers of Mary Margaret that plays with Regina's heartstrings. She can feel the woman's motherly love and affection and it's something she always craved from Cora. She doesn't even know this woman and yet, she still feels the compassion and love she possesses and Regina just wishes her mother could sprout a fraction of passion this woman contains.