A/N: I really have no idea where this came from. I've been lacking motivation for my angsty stories, so this lighthearted CRACK just filtered into my head.

Should I continue? Please, let me know. If not, I'll just take it down! No big deal. Regardless, I hope a few of you enjoy this! XO-Chrmdpoet

Sore Loser

"Oh really?" Emma drawled immaturely. "Oh reeeally? You think so, Regina? You really think so?"

"Obviously, otherwise I wouldn't have said as much," Regina answered dryly. "Must you continue to repeat yourself so childishly?"

"You bet your sweet, formerly evil ass that I must repeat myself childishly," Emma growled. "You insulted me!"

"My gods, would you relax?" Regina asked, rolling her eyes. "I only spoke the truth, Emma. It wasn't even intended as an insult. Stop being such a sore loser."

"A SORE LOSER?!" Emma practically yelled. "How the hell can I be a sore loser when I haven't actually lost anything? Hmm? It's not like we had a competition or something!"

"And we won't," Regina butted in quickly, "because your overly sensitive ego would be unable to recover from the terrible loss you would be certain to endure, and then our sex life would suffer as you would then brood and play the role of the wounded martyr for weeks while I remained ever the villain simply for being honest or superior."

"Our sex life never suffers," Emma said, arching an eyebrow.

"That isn't true," Regina countered. "Do you remember the last time you decided to challenge me to a competition? You whined continuously for twenty-six days and refused even to allow me to touch you. You wouldn't even kiss me. Twenty-six DAYS, Emma! It was ridiculous."

"That doesn't count, Regina. I'd never baked before in my life! That competition shouldn't have even happened. Stupid key-lime pie. Stupid meringue. Stupid…oven and stuff," the blonde said, grumbling over the last bit.

"That competition was your idea, so I refuse to take blame and I refuse to discount it simply because you lost or because you had little experience," Regina told her, planting her hands on her hips as she turned annoyed eyes to her wife.

"I only said we should do that stupid competition because at Thanksgiving, you and my mom went on for almost an hour about the fact that I couldn't bake a pie even if Henry's life depended on it. You totally baited me!" Emma whined.

"Well, I was right, wasn't I?" Regina mumbled under her breath.

"Oh, OH! It is on!" Emma snapped, pointing her index finger at her wife before flexing ridiculously at her. "We're doing this."

"We are not doing this," Regina told her, rolling her eyes dramatically and letting out an irritated sigh.

"We are."



"No, Emma."

"YES, Regina!"

"I said, 'No'."

"Yeah, good for you. I said, 'Yes!'."

"You are aggravating the hell out of me, Emma."

"Oh please. There's way too much hell in you for that to even be possible."

"That was terribly immature and not even remotely witty."

"Pshh…says you!"

"Emma, I am trying to save you the embarrassment of losing to me. You and I both know that I am far more powerful than you, and your magic wouldn't hold a candle to mine in a competition," Regina said, putting a hand up to stop the nonsense of their ridiculous back-and-forth.

"Regina, I have like SIX powers that you don't even have," Emma said, bobbing her head at the brunette as if that single fact alone ensured her superiority.

"And I have nearly THIRTY powers that you don't possess, not to mention years of training, whereas you simply experiment with yours or use your magic to play pranks on people," her wife returned.

"Yeah, but my powers are cooler and way stronger," Emma told her. "You just don't want to have this competition because you know you'll lose."

"I certainly would not lose."

"Oh, you'd lose. I'd be all MIND CONTROL, BAM! And then that would be the end of it."

"I would hardly call it a competition if you resort to mind control before it even begins and FORCE me to lose, dear," Regina deadpanned. "I believe that would be more along the lines of cheating."

"Whatever, R, you're just jealous," Emma said, deliberately goading her wife because she knew it was the only true way to get Regina to agree to participate in a magical competition.

"I am nothing of the sort," the brunette argued. "I have burned entire kingdoms to the ground before, dear. What is there to be jealous of?"

"Oooo, pyrokinesis," Emma drawled mockingly, "how very mainstream and boring of you."

Regina gasped as she glared at the blonde. She could tolerate many things, but no one should ever dare to mock her, especially not her own wife. Emma didn't stop, though, pushing her even further.

"MEANWHILE," Emma continued loudly, "I'm over here being a freaking X-Man superhero."

"Yes," Regina quipped, going in for the low blow, "you are rather similar to those ridiculous comic-book superheroes, dear. You see, your powers too are nothing more than a comical figment of a child's imagination."

Every cell in Emma's body buzzed furiously as she gritted her teeth at her wife and growled out, "Which makes it all the more pathetic that you are afraid of a little competition, don't you think? If my powers are so comical, then surely you'd have no problem beating me, right? What've you got to lose?"

"Other than the phenomenal sex that I've come to depend on as a part of my regular routine?" Regina asked dryly, even though she knew it was a last-ditch effort of avoiding a ridiculous competition that would only end as the last equally ridiculous one did. Her own anger and frustration, however, were already on the precipice of boiling over, and she knew her pride would force her to cave soon.

Emma smirked devilishly at that. "Coward," she hissed.

The brunette's pupils exploded into bright purple spheres as her entire body buzzed electrically. Tiny candle-sized flames ignited on her fingertips as she glared at her aggravatingly childish spouse. She snarled at the blonde animatedly before she practically spit out, "Fine. It's on."

"Like Donkey Kong!" Emma added, clapping her hands excitedly before flexing at her wife again.

Regina took several deep breaths to calm herself, and as the flames on her fingertips doused and her pupils returned to their normal shade of melted chocolate, she planted her hands on her hips again and asked, "What are the terms?"

Emma stumbled at that question, because she hadn't given a single thought to how the competition would actually go. She scratched at the back of her head as she stared into the floor and tried to think of a few simple rules to roll off her tongue and get the competition under way, but then she thought back to what Regina had said earlier. It wouldn't be much of a satisfying win if she simply gained her win via mind control or some equivalent. So, she wanted the terms to be specific and the rules to be firmly in place so that Regina couldn't claim she cheated when Emma inevitably won the damn thing.

"Uhh…." Emma stalled before saying, "I'll get back to you with the terms later. Give me like…an hour or two."

"Oh for gods' sake!" Regina exclaimed, tossing her hands up into the air before turning on her heel and stomping out of their bedroom.

"It's gonna be good, babe!" Emma called after her. "Lots of fun, and don't worry! I won't rub it in your face when you lose."

When she received no answer, the blonde paused a beat before calling out one last time.

"Love you!"

She was met with nothing more than the sound of the mansion's door slamming loudly closed. Crap. She had better come up with some damn good terms, and soon. The sooner this competition was over (and she was the winner, of course), the sooner they could put all of this behind them, though Emma would certainly have to allow her wife some time to whine and brood afterwards. After all, the blonde knew that she wasn't the only sore loser in the Swan-Mills household.