Chapter Text
While not normally an early morning person, Emma Swan truly appreciated catching waves at the break of dawn. It had been years since she’d been properly surfing, but she knew her way around the waves. Even if she had to take a couple of headers and dives to sell her story convincingly.
Slicking her hair back, she trudged out of the water after an hour, board tucked under her arm. She rolled her neck back and forth, cracking it before planting her board in the sand. There were only a few other people out this early and she watched them ride as the sun rose higher.
She plopped down on the sand, a bit different than how she usually handled business, but sometimes a hunter had to wait for their prey to come to them. And one of the three remaining surfers out on the waves was the woman she’d been searching for. She’d sent her employer a text when she’d observed the beach the previous morning and spotted her target. It had taken her just over a month, but today she would finally make contact. Today she would meet the elusive Regina Mills.
Head pounding, Emma laid back in the sand, closing her eyes and thinking over all the details she’d learned during her investigation. Regina Mills, age 30, father deceased, disowned by her mother, and had one estranged sister that lived in Europe somewhere. Graduated law school with honors, successful career started before abruptly leaving New York for the West Coast surf scene. According to a few personal emails before she cut off contact, she was loving life and moved in with two guys she’d just met. When she eventually resurfaced, instead of pursuing a career in criminal justice, Regina was managing a bar down on the beach.
On a personal level, it didn’t sound like the worst turn in life, but Emma had been assured this was abnormal behavior for Regina. The surfing was the only constant, and Regina was a goddess out on the waves. Emma considered it a perk of the job to watch her; the only problem she had was that her employer warned her off any romantic entanglements with Regina. More’s the pity.
Emma heard the approach before a shadow fell over her; she waited a beat before slowly cracking open her eyes. She shielded her face with one hand as she peered up at the woman standing over her. “Hi.”
“You okay?” Regina Mills asked as she planted her board in the sand. “I saw you take a pretty nasty header out there.”
She’d noticed her; Emma sat up. “Got rocked a little bit,” she admitted. “Guess I’m a bit rustier than I realized.”
“Rusty, huh?” Regina grinned. “I didn’t think I’d seen you around here before.” She looked around at the quiet beach. “Not too many people know about this spot.”
“Yeah, a friend of a friend,” Emma said vaguely then changed the subject. “You were doing some nice carving out there.”
“You were watching me?”
A little paranoia wasn’t unexpected. It was why Emma’s employer had sought out a female investigator instead of a man to find Regina. She shrugged and looked out towards the water. “You’re good. I always appreciate athleticism when I see it.” She half pointed out to the water. “The guy on the left…not so good. Definitely a Barney.”
Regina glanced out at the surfers bobbing on their boards. She huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s been coming out for a week or so now.” She looked down at the blonde and confided, “He’s not getting any better.”
The blonde got to her feet and offered her hand. “Emma Swan.”
A brief hesitation then, “Regina.” No last name given. She shook her hand briefly. “Are you new in town, Ms Swan?”
She hadn’t been expecting the more formal address but found she liked it. “Brand new.”
“Business or pleasure.”
“Business, but I’ve got time for pleasure.”
“You’re cute.” Regina retrieved her board. “If you like a nice rum drink, you should come down to Dominic’s tonight.”
According to Emma’s research, that was the bar where Regina worked and the name of one of the guys she was living with. “Is that a bar or someone’s house?”
“Both.” Regina smirked and began walking back towards the water.
“What if I don’t like rum?” Emma called after her.
Regina spun, walking backwards with her feet already in the surf. “Then I’ll serve you a real mean tequila.”
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“I’m actually more of a beer girl,” Emma said when a fruity looking concoction with a paper umbrella sticking out of it appeared in front of her.
“Just try it.”
Emma swallowed thickly as she eyed the orange beverage. Maybe if she stared at the drink, she wouldn’t get caught ogling the brunette behind the bar. When she’d taken the case, all of the pictures provided of Regina had been fairly formal portraits, and lawyer-Regina seemed to enjoy dressing in designer suits with sky-high heels. And while classically gorgeous, lawyer-Regina was not at all Emma’s type. Then she had found Regina at the beach in a wetsuit with slick backed hair and Emma had wondered what she’d done to deserve such torture. Now, sitting at the bar, she knew she was in hell.
Regina wore ripped jeans that were so tight they had to have been painted on and a black t-shirt with CBGB written in bold white letters; oh, and the shirt was sleeveless, showing off deeply tanned, perfectly sculpted arms. Knowing she looked good, Regina tapped the top of the bar near the rum drink as she passed, “Don’t insult me.” She walked off, snapping the tops off of two beer bottles before handing them over to customers.
Resigned to her fate, Emma sniffed the drink first then gave it a sip. It was good, not too sweet, and deceptively smooth. She took another tentative drink, not because she wanted to but because she didn’t want to alienate herself from the bar or Regina. When Regina wandered back over to her end of the bar, Emma had muscled down about half the glass.
“You like that, huh?” Regina asked.
“That,” Emma pointed at it unnecessarily, “definitely has more than one rum in it.”
Regina held up three fingers. She leaned closer to the blonde. “But only the first one. The alcohol content decreases dramatically after two and no one ever notices.”
Emma chuckled at the way Regina’s entire face scrunched up in an effort to wink. “But I bet the price stays the same.”
She gave a not-so-innocent shrug, swiped the glass away, and served Emma a beer. Emma happily accepted it. “I thought you were going to hit me with a tequila next.”
“Maybe later,” she smirked and headed off again to serve other customers.
Emma stayed for a few hours, drinking a couple of beers, eating a pretty decent burger, and bantering with Regina whenever she managed a minute or two. As the game on the big screen ended and the crowds began to wind down for the night, Regina pointed out a back table and Emma moved herself and her drink to it. Regina joined a few minutes later with a pitcher of water and two glasses.
Emma laughed, “No tequila?”
“Not if I want to catch the waves tomorrow morning,” Regina said, filling both glasses when Emma happily set her half-finished beer to the side. “Not as young as I used to be.”
Emma saluted with her glass. “Better than the alternative.”
Regina cocked an eyebrow but let the comment slide. “So, what kind of business are you doing here, Ms Swan?”
“Ah, we’ve come to the interrogation portion of the evening,” the blonde said, “and it’s Emma.” After Regina inclined her head in acknowledgement, Emma answered, “I’m a bailbonds-person, and I’m here following a lead on a runner.”
“Bailbonds-person,” Regina repeated. “While more accurate, it doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it?”
Emma shrugged. “What about you?”
Regina sipped her water. “What about me?”
“Have you always been a surfer girl by day and bartender by night?” If Emma hadn’t been watching for it, she would have missed the slight flinch.
Regina sat back in the booth. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re avoiding the question,” Emma pointed out. “Which only makes me more interested.” She leaned forward. “Your accent doesn’t sound like you’ve lived your life on California beaches.”
Regina’s eyes narrowed; she glanced around the bar before finally admitting, “I grew up on the east coast.”
“Maine?” Emma asked, knowing that was practically an insult.
Regina glared, taking the bait. “I’m from New York.”
Of course, she was. Emma grinned. “Ah, so you mastered that look at a young age.”
“What look?” Regina asked innocently, knowing full well what look Emma was talking about.
“That Evil Queen look,” Emma said, “that don’t-talk-to-me-don’t-look-at-me look. You know what I’m talking about.”
Regina laughed. “I think it’s called resting bitch face.”
“No, no,” Emma waved her off. “This is different; this is used very specifically and very as needed.” She gestured towards the end of the bar where the big screen tv had been showing a football game earlier. “One look from you and those guys watching the game knew better than to try and start any trouble in your bar.”
“Well, I admit it does come in handy,” Regina said, obviously rather pleased with herself.
“So, is it?”
Regina cocked her head. “Is what it?”
“Is this your bar?” Emma asked despite knowing the answer.
“Do I look like a Dominic to you?” she asked. “What exactly do you think I’m packing in these jeans?”
Emma choked on her water and grabbed a handful of napkins. Eyes watering, she glared at Regina which elicited another smokey chuckle from the brunette. When she could speak, “For all I know you bought it from some guy named Dominic,” Emma managed. “And we both know, there is no room for anything else to fit into those jeans.”
The lightest hint of color climbed into Regina’s cheeks when Emma pointedly tapped her fingers on the tabletop. She gamely leaned closer. “Just what have you been thinking about all night sitting at the end of the bar, watching my every move?”
“Just observing my surroundings, appreciating art when I see it.” And having thoughts she definitely should not be having. Back to work then, “So, who is Dominic?”
That same little twitch at the corner of her eye. “Why so interested?”
“Do you always answer a question with a question?”
“Do you always ask so many questions?”
“Only when I’m trying to get to know someone,” she waggled her hand, “or if I’m trying to hunt someone down.”
Another flinch. “I’m no one’s prey, Ms Swan.”
Sadly, Emma doubted that. The answer was too defensive for the light conversation; she retreated. “Forgive me,” Emma said, leaning back in the booth, “Being inquisitive comes with my job.” Regina still seemed ready to storm off. “Since I’m not working right now, I should learn to relax and not ask so many questions.”
An awkward silence settled over the table. Regina was oddly disappointed; she’d been enjoying trading barbs with the blonde. Reminded her of when she’d wanted to practice law and spend her days arguing cases, but that had been a lifetime ago.
Hadn’t it?
“So.” Emma cast about for a topic of easy conversation. “You’re going surfing in the morning.”
Despite being thankful for a safe topic, Regina narrowed her eyes. “Was that another question?”