This isn't how it was supposed to go.
The curse was supposed to unleash ones' worst self.
But within them.
Internally not externally.
Only that's not what happened, apparently.
At least not if her parents are anything to judge by.
Because right now, Emma is standing in the middle of the sheriff's station with two versions of her mother and her father and one is right and the other is well…definitely not. There's also two of Kristoff, but at least his worst self just seems like a grungy cranky loner.
Her mom's doppelganger, on the other hand, is a mean-spirited asshole.
And her fathers' doppelganger is wide-eyed and psychotic and there's something unsettling about the way he's smirking; like he's wondering if blood really is red when it's all on the outside.
Her thoughts of this get broken - thankfully - by her actual mother begging her to leave.
Lock everyone up inside here - there's no weapons around - and leave, Snow pleads.
Emma thinks to try to get her parents out from behind the bars but knows that she'd have to fight her way over past the insane doppelgangers and there just isn't time for that kind of insanity right now. No, she realized, they're safer stuck behind inside of the holding cells.
And she's better off away from them all. Where she can't hear what her two not-parents are saying. Please take Neal and go, Snow whispers. But it's the desperation in her father's eyes that convinces her.
And then, her little brother curled in her arms, she's grabbing Anna and Elsa and they're high-tailing it out of the station fast as they possibly can. "Take Neal, and dead to the library," she tells them once they're standing in the middle of Storybrooke, her tone firm and direct. "I need him safe; put up a protection spell or an ice wall or whatever you have to do and then try to figure a way to get these stupid ribbons off of us. I need to check in on someone."
"Hook?" Elsa asks, glancing around with clear worry in her eyes.
"No, Regina. Hook's worst self is…well, if it's anything like what I saw in the Enchanted Forest during my trip back there, they can more than deal with each other without too much harm happening. But Regina's worst self is the Evil Queen and I'm not sure that this Regina can handle her."
"We should come with you; it's not safe," Elsa states as she hands baby Neal over to Anna.
"It's not," Emma agrees with a worried frown. "But if we don't figure a way to take Ingrid out and break this spell, it won't be safe for anyone to be out and about. And I need to know he's safe."
"Emma –"
"Look, maybe this twist on the spell cut us a break. If Regina is herself, then she can help us with this." She smiles at her blonde friend. "I need your help right now. Please."
Elsa reluctantly nods. "Be careful." And then she's grabbing Anna by the wrist and yanking her down the street. Emma watches for a moment (desperately praying that it's not the last time she will see either them or her baby brother) and then turns and runs in the opposite direction.
Towards Regina.
Towards the Evil Queen.
Astonishingly, she's able to walk right through – with just a minor stinging sensation - what looks like a brightly shimmering force field, but it shimmers the moment she's through and she guesses that it's probably not nearly as simple and useful in come-and-go situations as it would appear to be.
But that's for later, she muses. This is for now. "Regina!" she calls out as she turns down the hallway and then jumps into the middle of the vault and comes to a flat full stop in front of -
-well, the Evil Queen.
In all of her fucking bombastic in-your-face glory. The outfit is outrageous, spectacular and somewhat obscene; red and silver and undeniably regal, it's lifting Regina up in ways that should be illegal in every single world.
"Miss Swan," the Queen purrs, her tongue flickering out to lick her bright red lips for perhaps a moment longer than is strictly necessary all things considered. "I'm so happy to see you here."
"Yeah…right. You're not…where's Regina?" Emma swallows, averting her eyes from the generous amount of cleavage that's practically being thrown at her. And right into her face.
"I am Regina, dear," the woman coos, a perfect eyebrow lifted up. "Just perhaps the more unpleasant side of her. Or shall we say, the more honest and less simpering side of her."
"No. Where's…where's my Regina?"
"Your Regina. Oh, so obsessed," the Queen drawls. "But because you're so worried about your former enemy - your good dear friend - and I find that just…fascinating, she's over there taking a brief nap." The Queen juts her hand behind her and that's when Emma spots Regina sprawled out unconscious on the ground, flat on her belly, her recently lengthened hair going everywhere.
"Regina!"
"Ever notice how often you say our name?"
Emma ignores the obvious baiting of the Queen and races over to where Regina is, coming up behind her and then kneeling down beside the Mayor. She does a quick inspection and finds nothing broken or bleeding. Which likely means that the Queen had just managed a lucky drop on her.
The Queen, whom she's aware is standing behind her watching all of this.
Like she's curious. Like a predatory evil fucking cat.
But this is Regina. Just…a different part of her. Weird.
Emma slaps Regina's face, turning her to the side so that she can keep an eye on the Queen as she does so. She hears a soft moan first and then Regina is slowly opening her eyes and wincing at the same times as she's saying her name. "Emma? What the hell is going on? Why am I - oh her."
The Queen chuckles darkly in response to her…lighter self. "Think you can perhaps stay conscious this time. I really would prefer to kill you with you on your feet. Much more satisfying."
"You're not killing her," Emma snaps.
"Can I kill her?" Regina mutters, flexing her hands.
"No, neither one of you is killing each other. I have no idea what that would do the whole of you…if anything -" she looks at Regina. "Is she just a part of you? Are you missing -"
"She's a doppelganger of my darkest side. Of my nastiest and most unchecked parts. Which, by the way, I still have inside of me as well." She smiles slightly then, that cruel one that always makes Emma shiver. "Which means that I can kill her and probably not be negatively affected. I think."
"Yeah, that's not nearly good enough. The way things go for us, I'm pretty sure killing yourself would have a negative effect on you in someway or another. So no killing." She looks from woman to woman. "But I do need her unconscious or…not trying to kill us so we can get out of here and -"
The Queen laughs. "We're actually fond of this moron? How the hell did that happen?"
Regina just glares at the Queen in response.
"You are?" Emma asks suddenly. "Fond of me?"
"Inappropriate time and place, Swan."
The Queen laughs then, low and rich and oh so very deep. "Oh, but let's dispense with the clever lies now, Regina; truth is, Swan, we're so fond of you that we'd like to see exactly how you taste."
Emma's eyes snap over to Regina.
Who sighs loudly.
"Worst part of me," she reminds Emma, her tone sharply irritated. "Which means a lying manipulative lunatic who will do anything she can to throw you off-balance so that she can strike and take you out. Try to remember how I was when we met and assume that this me is much worse."
"But we were always a little bit honest as well, now weren't we, Regina, dear?" the Queen reminds them both and then she's stalking forward and coming so very close to Emma, ignoring the way that the Savior tenses for a fight. "In everything that I - that we - said, there was always a bit of truth."
"Okay, you know what, we really don't have time for this," Regina snaps.
"Oh, but we do. Have plenty of time, I mean. You see we're not going anywhere. That force field that your dear Savior brought down? Only she can step through it until a special counter curse that you created and hid somewhere or other is read against it. And she can leave, I suppose, but since you won't let me, we're not. And if your Savior leaves, what do you imagine might happen here? Hm?"
"You two seriously aren't going to try to kill each other, right?" Emma asks.
"I can handle my own, Emma," Regina assures her. "Especially against this dramatic gasbag."
"You're just jealous because I don't look like a whimpering pathetic buttoned-up soccer mom who hasn't got properly laid in thirty years. At least I know how to show off some style."
"Your boobs hurt, your ribs ache, and you can barely breath so stow it."
"This is the strangest conversation that I have ever been part of," Emma mutters, glancing around the vault. If it's true and only she can pass through the magical containment field until the counter spell is read, then she doesn't dare leave the two of them like this.
Not at least until the Queen is restrained and Regina has promised to keep her cool.
All easier said than done.
Especially since they're both still trading heated insults.
"Okay, both of you, knock it off," Emma says after a moment of glancing around. "I need to get back out there and try to stop this thing before people start getting really hurt, and I know -" she looks over at the Queen, "That you've got a major hard-on right now to go and do some maiming -"
"That's not what I have a major…hard-on for," the Queen suddenly purrs and then – without warning - she's stepping towards Emma and before the blonde even has a moment to figure out what's about to happen or how to react to the Queen, she's being grabbed by the jaw and kissed with enough violent passion and mind-blowing ferocity to almost literally steal her breath away from her.
It's the blast of a fireball sailing past both her and the Queen that makes them break away and then the Queen is smirking and turning towards a furiously angry Regina, an eyebrow lifted in bemusement. "Oh, someone is upset that I finally took some initiative, yes?"
"Keep your hands to yourself. For once," Regina growls at her.
"What the hell was that?" Emma asks, wiping her hand past her mouth.
"How is it that we never managed to defeat her?" the Queen demands, her annoyance clear as she looks from Emma back to Regina. "She's so slow." To Emma she says, "That was a taking, dear."
"A…what?"
"Emma, I need you to leave. Right now. Go and take care of business. We'll be fine."
"Unless one of us kills the other one," the Queen drawls, switching back to her weird play-mode. "And let's be honest here - Mommy Regina just doesn't have the balls to do it anymore."
"I have no problem turning you into -"
"And no," Emma says, shaking away her disorientation. "That's not what's happening. We need to figure out a better way to do this and for the two of you to find a way to get along."
"Does she believe that worst self just means weekend drunk self?" the Queen asks, looking from Regina to Emma once again. "Because if you do, let me correct you, dear Savior. I have every intention of murdering this silly weak woman in front of me and taking this town over. By murderous force."
"I ranted a lot," Regina sighs. "And was very high on myself."
"I see that," Emma notes dryly.
"Of course," the Queen says suddenly. "There's no reason to kill anyone at all – even Regina here - if there are better and more interesting things to do." She leans over Emma again and before Emma can move or even think about what's happening, the Queen bends in and takes a rather healthy swipe at her neck, licking a wet line up it before she adds a snap of teeth. "Other ways to occupy our time."
Emma shivers and the Queen laughs.
"Oh, my…you liked that. But then you liked the kiss as well," the Queen observes as she runs her tongue across Emma's suddenly sweaty skin, slowing down long enough to skin her teeth in.
Which earns her a deep instinctual moan from the blonde; thankfully, that's enough to make Emma come to her senses. With a grunt, she pulls away from the Queen, quickly retreating.
"Running away, now are we?" the Queen teases.
"Leave her alone," Regina says suddenly, softly, her eyes looking wet and wounded.
"I think not. If she wants to keep us from killing each other – if she wants to keep me from trying to rip your pathetically weak lovesick heart out of your chest - then she's going to have to give me something back of equal value." She rakes her eyes up and down Emma's body appreciatively.
"You think screwing me is equal value to murdering Regina?" Emma challenges. It's not so much that she's arguing with the statement – and that's a bit of a surprise to her because when had she ever considered Regina in such a manner – but because she'd never considered equating murder and sex.
The Queen shrugs in response, like she isn't threatening self-homicide (suicide, Emma thinks, but in the most bizarre way humanly possible) or a strange sexual hook-up with ease. "I'm equal opportunity when it comes to pleasure, dear. And you look you could supply me with much of that."
"Leave her alone," Regina says again, almost a plea. "You want me, then –"
"Oh, I do want you…but just not yet. For the moment, I want her. And it's your choice, Savior. Keep me busy and the ones you're just as fond of as she's fond of you will be safe and sound -"
"Emma, I can handle her. I'm no wallflower," Regina insists.
"Or don't keep me busy, and run along to find help, and I think we both know that your dear Regina has lost the killer instinct that she needs to fight me off in the long-term. If you leave, I will kill her. Or she'll kill me by lucky happenstance and we both know how badly that will shake her up."
"Emma -"
"You want to have sex with me?" Emma clarifies and it becomes clear that she really hasn't heard much of anything else besides this strange sticking point. "You? Want to have sex. With me?"
"Again, how did we lose to her?"
"Because she's a better person than either you or I," Regina says softly.
"Fine," Emma says suddenly. "Fine, we'll do that."
"Emma, no –"
"Emma, yes," the Queen says with an almost violent laugh, and then she's grabbing Emma and slamming her against the wall with an obscene amount of force. "I'm going to devour you whole, Savior. And leave you screaming my name for weeks on end. But at least you'll live to do it."
"Regina. I want Regina."
"What?" the Queen demands, her head snapping backwards.
"If I…If I'm going to do this to keep you from…being a homicidal whack job, then I want her involved in this," Emma insists. "If she's the one who wants me, then I want her in this, too."
"Emma -"
The Queen considers this and then shrugs. "Fine. You're into threesome kink, that's fine with me; wouldn't be my first time." She wags her eyebrows over at Regina. "Or yours, Regina."
Regina winces at that, but then Emma is holding out a hand and for reasons she can't even begin to understand, she's taking it and letting Emma pull her in and then they're the ones kissing and it's soft and gentle and if this were any other time than this one, it would be something special and almost magical because yes, this is their first kiss and…but then the Queen is breaking their kiss and claiming Emma's mouth for her own and Regina's reminded this is some absurd mind-fuck happening here.
She's about to have a threesome with herself.
There isn't enough alcohol in the world for this.
But she leans in to claim Emma's lips again the moment she's able to anyway because Emma is clearly quite afraid of what's happening here, and Regina vividly remembers her darkest self and how very deep the desperation and need and hunger could get and how painful the anger over sex always was and so while the Queen bites and pushes and grabs, Regina gently kisses and touches and feels.
Clothes are shed quickly (and who would have thought that was possible considering the batshit crazy thing the Queen is wearing, but apparently it is) and this is every bit as surreal as it sounds in her head because she's watching herself palm Emma's breasts and push fingers hard and deep into the blonde and then she's leaning forward and placing her fingers on the bundle of nerves that will set Emma off. It's all utter madness, but she's making sure to kiss Emma and keep kissing her so that maybe she can help Emma forget that this is actually happening – help her forget that she's actually having sex with Regina.
And Evil Queen Regina.
All at the same time.
But then Emma is crying out and dropping a hand down between her and Regina's naked bodies and then her warm palm is somehow over all of their hands and this is so very twisted but Emma is holding on to both of them in a way and though she's leaning in to Regina, she's not pulling away from the Queen who seems to be watching all of this with bold amazement and curious fascination.
"Oh look at this? The poor little lost girl isn't so snow white good after all," the Queen hisses, her eyes bright and sadistic as she runs a hand appreciatively over Emma's sweaty pale skin.
"Shut up," Emma growls and then kisses the Queen hard before returning back to Regina and kissing her with a much gentler but deep kind of passion. A needy and wanting kind of desire.
Her hands roam up the front of Regina, gently touching and exploring before lightly palming her breasts She permits herself a bit of this exploration – her fingers roaming over nipples and sliding over swells - before descending down her belly and then Emma is the one breaking away so that she can shove Regina up against the wall. As Emma kisses her again, Regina thinks that she hears the Queen laughing (even as she steps up behind Emma and drops her mouth to the blonde's neck, her teeth sinking in) because this was all meant to be a new way to break the Savior and it's anything but that.
Because in a strange unexpected twist, the Savior seems to have gotten over her fear of the situation – as crazy as it is and my God is it ever - and is enjoying the living hell out of this.
"Regina, dear," the Queen drawls as she removes her mouth from Emma's neck after leaving a nice red mark that Regina thinks will most likely need to be magicked away later unless they both want to be answering a lot of uncomfortable questions. "I know that you hate me, but perhaps we can agree on a truce for a few hours while we see just how loud we can make the Savior scream our name."
"I'm okay," Emma says to Regina, her voice soft and her eyes unimaginably and unexpectedly bright and vibrant. And then, because only Regina can see her face, she mouths, "You and me."
Regina sighs, then says to the Queen. "Let's make her scream."
It's probably incredibly – horribly even - bad form to knock someone out mid orgasm, but it wouldn't be the first time for either of these women to have done something like that and so when the Queen slumps down, it's a great relief because apparently true evil provides great stamina.
And the Queen had been showing absolutely no signs of tiring or giving up.
Emma tries desperately hard not to wonder if Regina has retained some of that evil and thus some of that stamina and therefore how interesting it might to be try to go all night...but no, no.
Because what had happened in Regina's vault between the…three of them is something that they'll never speak of.
Never. Ever. Again.
So they lock up the Queen together in the safe room and then while she's unconscious, Emma retries the counter-spell and breaks Regina out. Who quickly places a new spell over the door to keep the likely to be furious when she wakes up Evil Queen inside. Hopefully, she won't have to see the woman again. Hopefully they can defeat the Snow Queen and the doppelganger will just be gone.
"You okay?" Emma asks as they stumble out in the now very dark cemetery, both sore and rather desperately in need of a shower. "I mean…with what just happened in there," she clarifies quickly.
"Are you?"
"I might need therapy after this."
"Because you slept with me?"
"Because I slept with you and…you. And saw her hand on your breasts and between your legs. And she was doing things to you. Which puts a whole new spin on masturbation."
Regina winces, and then runs her fingers through her hair, sighing loudly in exhaustion and worry. "I'm so sorry, Emma. I shouldn't have…you shouldn't have felt like you had to agree to that."
"I wasn't going to let you be hurt."
"Do you not think me strong enough to defend myself?"
"I do. But I wasn't going to take that chance."
"Emma -"
"You're fond of me. And it's safe to say, I'm fond of you."
"I think you hit your head on the floor."
"A couple times," Emma groans, a hand reaching up to gingerly touch her scalp. "And don't get me wrong, what just happened in there is fuckery on a level I didn't even know existed. It was the weirdest goddamn thing that I've ever experienced and considering everything I've gone through in my life and since coming to Storybrooke, that's – you know, I'm pretty sure I have your name in bite-marks on the insides of my thighs."
"I always did have a bad habit of marking," Regina admits with an apologetic half-shrug.
"Yeah, I got that. And again, that was seriously weird and I'm sure we'll both need to drink later. But I think maybe we should have that drink together; I think maybe we should…talk."
"About what? What happened in there? What you think could happen out here. You most certainly have enough romantic complications in your life without me involved and I…I'm a mess."
"I'd say we both are, and that's really never been a problem for me, if I'm being perfectly honest. So how about we go kick Ingrid's ass and then go and share a bottle of JD tonight after everything is back to normal and then you can maybe show me how to heal bite-marks, okay?"
Regina laughs and then steps away closer Emma. Once she's right up next to her, Regina says in a low dry voice, "What makes you think I'd want to do that?" A slightly suggestive wag of her eyebrows, and then Regina is stepping away ago, and leading them both back into Storybrooke.
Emma smirks, shakes her head and follows after.
-Fin