𝐀 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐲

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 "𝐋𝐢𝐞"

The Queen enters the pawn shop, still wearing Regina's clothes and hairstyle, her body vibrating with excitement at how well her plans are going. Her so-called "better" half was trapped in the mirror world with the savior, while her insipid family has no idea she has replaced her. Everything is falling into place, so she thinks she's earned a bit of fun. The front of the shop is empty, and she slinks toward the backroom, a smirk on her face as she pushes through the curtain.

Gold has his back to her, giving her enough time to school her expression into something more fitting of Regina. He looks over his shoulder at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studies her, his gaze trailing from her face to her body before he turns back around.

"Never thought I'd see you in a pantsuit, Your Majesty," he quips, and the Queen chuckles, impressed.

"Guess you can't fool the Dark One," she says, walking further into the room, unable to resist lightly turning the spinning wheel when she passes it on her way to him. "But... we could pretend I was Regina..." She's reached him now, her chin resting on his shoulder as she whispers into his ear. "If you wanted to."

She's pressed close to him, so she can feel the way he tenses, hear the ever-so-slight intake of breath, and it makes her grin.

She's found a weakness, it seems. A kink.

"Have you thought about it, hmm?" she breathes, sliding her hands down his arms, until she can grasp his hands. He's stopped fiddling with the... whatever he was working on, has gone completely still as she frees his fingers from around the thing. "You can tell me. Did you have some thoughts about the Mayor? Fantasies about fucking her in her office, or here in your shop?"

The tension ripples through him, an imperceptible shiver running over his skin, and the Queen catches her bottom lip between her teeth. "Tell me, Mr. Gold," she says deliberately, and this time, she nips at his earlobe instead of her own lip. "Tell me what you want to do to Madam Mayor..."

"I want... you to leave," he says, and she chuckles darkly, shaking her head.

"Do you now?" she teases, drawing one of her hands away from his, letting it find his waist and then gliding down until she reaches his crotch. She cups him through his trousers, finds him already stiffening against her palm. "Are you sure about that, Mr. Gold?"

He lets her grope him, even gasps softly as she palms his dick, and she has no idea why he even tries to pretend. She knows he wants this, that he wants her; she's holding the evidence in her hand right now.

"Your Majesty," he says warningly, his own hand reaching down to wrap his fingers around her wrist. He stills her, but doesn't pull her away, and she bites down on her bottom lip to contain her grin.

"Who?" she murmurs, right against his ear.

There is silence for several seconds, ticking away into a full minute, before Gold removes her hand and turns around to face her. His face is stern, and she's just about to pout at him for ruining her fun when he says, "Step back, Madam Mayor. Please."

Oh. Oh.

That has a shiver dancing down her spine, a delighted, devious smile spreading over her face as she realizes what he's said. She schools her features, putting on the Mayor Mills mask like a second skin, even as her insides tremble with excitement.

He releases her wrist with a disdainful sort of sigh, even as he looks over her body. She notes the way he lingers at her mouth, her cleavage, and she accentuates the pouty purse of her lips, adjusts her posture so her breasts are pushed out a bit more. And then, as he asked, she steps back.