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The Colloquial Term

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Regina glanced at Henry through her peripherals, noting the concentrated look on her son's face. True, he had been distant from her ever since he discovered he was adopted, and even more so ever since that damn book and bringing the insufferable Emma Swan to Storybrooke, but the look on his face now had her concerned.

She cleared her throat, hands tightening on the steering wheel and preparing herself for the imminent rejection. "Is everything okay, Henry?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, continuing to stare out the window.

"How was the arcade?" She attempted conversation.

She noticed his brows furrow again wondering what went on in that arcade. She grimaced, realizing the possibility that her son had lied to her and in fact spent the afternoon with his birth mother. She mentally berated herself for almost hoping it to be true just for the excuse to invade Emma's space again. Nothing got her blood boiling faster than arguing with the blonde Sheriff. It irked her that she couldn't determine whether it was anger or something else entirely that got her so riled. Finally he turned to her and looked curious.

"What's a MILF?"

Regina took her eyes off the road momentarily to stare questioningly at her son. "I beg your pardon?"

"A MILF," he repeated obviously.

"What is that?" She questioned.

Henry shrugged. "I'm asking you."

She continued her drive, turning onto Mifflin Street and slowing the vehicle down when the mansion came into view. "I don't think that's a real word, Henry."

"I heard some older kids who work at the arcade say it," he explained.

"What did I tell you about emulating foul language?" She scolded as she pulled into the driveway.

"It might not be foul," the boy reasoned. "You don't even know what it means."

"Neither do you. All the more reason to keep away from it."

He wrinkled his nose in contemplation before finally building up the nerve to speak. "They called you a MILF."

Regina raised a questioning eyebrow, a mixture of confusion and anger bubbling together. On one hand, a couple of rowdy teens had been carelessly slandering her name in the presence of her son. On the other hand, her son in question seemed to genuinely care that people were calling his mother names. Her expression softened at the latter and she leaned across the gear shift to cup Henry's face. "Rest assured I'll talk to those boys."

He simply nodded before quickly unbuckling and scrambling out of the car.

The word burrowed in her brain for the better part of two days. She had disallowed Henry from returning to the arcade until she had a talk with the boys who worked there and their manager for hiring such disrespectful youth. She couldn't find the time in her schedule to march over there and give them a piece of her mind, but that didn't stop her from wondering what she had been called. What the hell was a MILF? Clearly it was derogatory. The only compliments she had received were when peasants were attempting to appease her, and what better way than to confess an insult than behind a person's back?

She huffed as she thumbed through her reports, both angry and pleased that the Sheriff's files were nowhere in her pile. Gathering her purse, she smirked. What an ample opportunity to visit the blonde. If she couldn't unleash hell on some unsuspecting teenage boys, she would enjoy giving Emma Swan trouble under the pretense of being inadequate at her job.

Regina dropped her purse on Emma's desk with a hard thud, effectively waking up Storybrooke's finest from her after-lunch nap. "I see our tax dollars are being put to good use."

Emma rolled her eyes and wiped the drool from her mouth, not bothering to defend the fact that she was blatantly sleeping. "Need something, Madame Mayor?"

"Your budget reports. From the past month, which I sent you three emails about," the brunette reprimanded.

"Relax, I'm almost done." Emma attempted to stifle a yawn but couldn't stop her arms from reaching back in a satisfying stretch.

"You should have been done two weeks ago, Ms. Swan."

Emma simply shrugged and stood, walking to her filing cabinet and retrieving the reports she hadn't touched yet.

"I also need you to get the names of all the employees at the arcade."

"Why?" Emma turned giving her a confused look.

"You're the sheriff," Regina said leaning her head in to point out the fact.

Emma huffed and dropped into her seat. "What did they do, Regina? Did the machines eat your quarters?"

The brunette glared as Emma sat smug in her chair. She wanted to wipe that smirk off her face. With her fist or her lips, either would do.

"They have no ethics, and given that it's an establishment where children attend, specifically Henry, I would hope you would take some responsibility to straighten them out," Regina said firmly, daring the blonde to question her.

"What'd they do?" Emma asked more curious than interested in actually talking to them.

Regina ground her teeth and exhaled harshly. After much deliberation, she finally spoke, slightly embarrassed by her admission. "They called me a MILF."

Emma laughed out loud. She highly doubted she would hear that word come out of Regina's mouth again, and she wanted to savour the moment.

Regina glared, her fists clenching. "As amusing as you find this, they have disrespected me as a public figure in front of my son."

The blonde leaned back in her chair thoroughly amused. "Take it as a compliment, Regina."

"They insulted me!"

"Do you know what it means?" Emma asked leaning forward, her eyes glittering with mirth.

Regina snapped her jaw shut not wanting to admit she didn't know everything. Her face reddened wondering why Emma would think it was anything less than an insult.

"It means -" Emma paused searching for words that Regina wouldn't find degrading. "It means you're hot."

The brunette stared at her with narrow eyes. "How on earth could it mean that?"

Emma stood and moved around her desk to lean against it, just to see Regina's expression up close, she convinced herself. "It's slang. It's an acronym for finding an older woman attractive."

"And what does it stand for?" Regina was persistent in her questioning.

Emma sighed, running her hand through her hair and debating what the best course of action was. Finally she shrugged, deciding Regina's face would be worth it. "Mother I'd like to fuck."

Regina's eyes darkened dangerously as she enunciated her words. "Excuse me?"

"You're a mother I'd like to fuck." Emma's eyes widened realizing the semantics of her statement. "I mean, it's not bad!"

Getting over the crude language, Regina took in the Sheriff's flustered cheeks as she avoided all eye contact.

"So they just want to sleep with me?" Regina clarified.

"Yeah, can you blame 'em?" Emma's mouth parted again before she floundered for an explanation. "I mean, not that I mean it in that way."

Regina's eyes darkened and this time she knew it was a reason other than anger before she raked her eyes up and down the blonde's body. She took a step inward almost pressing up against the Sheriff. Emma swallowed hard meeting her gaze, caught in it.

"So does that make you a SILF?" Regina asked, her tone completely serious.

Emma blinked. "A what?"

Regina lowered her voice to a husky whisper. "A sheriff I'd like to fuck."

With that Regina turned on her heels, a pleased smirk on her face at Emma's stunned expression. She spoke again as she passed the glass divider that separated Emma's office from the cells. "I'll be in my office if you have anything to give me."

Snapping her mouth shut and finally gathering her bearings, Emma grabbed her coat and raced after Regina.