Thinking of You, Dear

The day was moving at a distinct and more than frustrating crawl. It was the sort of pace that Emma Swan only preferred when getting out of bed in the morning. Hell, she couldn't even think of anything else she liked moving at as slow of a pace as the current work day was going. She peered almost defensively at the stacked sheets of paper upon her desk that the mayor had told her needed to be turned in by Friday, 1:00 PM sharp. The problem was; it was Thursday and the most that Emma had done was shove the paper around her desk since it was blocking the space she needed for her bear claw and coffee. She let out a puff of air and decided to get to work. She picked up the top sheet of paper and immediately her eyes glazed over. How the hell am I supposed to get this done when it's so uninteresting? She set the paper back down on the stack and shifted the stack from the left side of her desk to the right. She had an entire day, right? She could get through all of the paperwork in time for Madam Mayor's deadline!

"Might want to try doing the paperwork. That way, it can leave your desk and not take up the amount of space that it's taking up," came the jovial and teasing voice of her father and Deputy Sheriff, David Nolan. Emma rolled her eyes up into her head as David approached her desk on the side that the paperwork now found itself on. He let out a shudder and placed his hand on the desk, the blade of it resting so that he could measure the size of the stack of paper compared to his rather large hand. "Wow, Em! This stack is almost half the size of my hand! Regina is going to kill you!" His laughter was so incredibly unnecessary at that moment and Emma sought to make her currently irreverent father understand that with her best -- albeit nowhere near as effective -- Mayor Mills glare. Much to Emma's chagrin, he only laughed harder.

He patted Emma on the back. "Emma, Emma, Emma. You have so much to learn about relationships," he sighed out, as if he had been married for sixty years and this was all old hat. She rolled her eyes again, but this time, David saw it coming and their eyes moved in tempo, reaching the backs of their skulls in record time and in unison. Emma slouched down into her chair. "It's not that, dad," she started, but was quickly shut up by her father as he went on one of his princely tirades that was supposed to end in some sort of moral.

"A happy home can only be happy when the wife is happy-"

"We're not married," Emma interjected, as if this was obvious -- considering that it was, yet, David was not to be stopped!

"And since your woman is also your boss-"

"Worst best idea ever," Emma supplied, as if everything needed the commentary, but mostly because she was already over the conversation. David was feeling himself - thankfully not literally, which would have really destroyed the conversation and Emma's life. He walked from the side of her desk, to the front, that valiant grin on his face. Emma tried her hardest not to roll her eyes again and leaned back in her chair.

"It's best to keep them happy, even if you don't enjoy what they ask you to do," he continued. "Especially when a deadline is set. Man, your mom, one time..." That was it, Emma was going to tune out. At this point, she would rather do her paperwork. Since writing while he was talking was rude, Emma refrained, even if telling him that less talk would help her actually get the paperwork done faster. She picked up her coffee and took a sip. She had already devoured her bear claw and could distinctly feel lunch coming on an hour earlier than most people deemed acceptable.

"..so, Mary Margaret kept leaving handwritten notes scented with her perfume as hints since she claims I'm so absent minded," David was still blabbering on.

Which, you are, Emma thought, and thankfully did not say out loud. Not that he would have noticed. Also, that was weird. Perfume scented notes? She wasn't sure what to make of her semi-recently found parents' antics a good portion of the time. She shuddered at that as her eyes landed on her phone, now doing the vibration dance next to the stack of forgotten papers. As Emma lifted her coffee cup to her mouth, she used her free hand to pick up her phone. She smiled upon seeing who the message was from, Madam SexyPantsuit, which what Regina was saved as in her phone this week. She changed it often. Just last week it had been My Majesty. She probably shouldn't have kept changing it. Once Regina had seen the name Woman With Fantastic Ass listed in her text conversations and Emma barely got the conversation open to tell her that it was a conversation they had had earlier in the week and not some rando 'hussy' as Regina had called the 'trollop' -- she had used that word too. Needless to say, Regina was not pleased. Maybe she would propose to Regina with the proposition that she would only change the name and keep it the same if Regina became Swan-Mills. That was something to think about! The problem was, they were only three months into their relationship. That kind of thinking was way too soon. They hadn't even had sex yet, not that Emma thought sex was the most important aspect of a relationship, she just was pretty sure the sexual tension between her and Regina had been out of control since Emma's shy little 'Hi' on Regina's doorstep those years ago.