Author's note

This came to me after one of seli_na_w's manip and caption. This is my first fanfic ever. English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine. This was supposed to be a one-shot, but some persons felt this story deserved a real ending.

I own nothing.

Mentions of Hook and Hood, but this is all SwanQueen.

Story

Emma Swan was sobbing. Killian was out, investigating some... thingy... with her father... She remembered it was about Hyde's work. She didn't ask. Just this once, she didn't care. The tremors were getting even worse, so when Hook suggested to go with Charming and check some cache they found near the dirigeable's wreckage, she jumped on the opportunity, making up some appointment with Archie to remain behind. At that moment, she was badly regretting that decision.

When Killian was there, she felt cocooned, pillowed. They cuddled. They drank. They fucked. It was not perfect. She felt vacant, and numb, and damaged, but he distracted her from everything else. The pain. The regrets. The anger. She loved him, she knew it. Even if something was missing, she cared for him... Yet, she always had those doubts about him and she thought he didn't deserve it... Guilt. Another pathetic emotion to deal with, as she was sitting on the floor of the shower, arms around her legs, head on her knees, water hitting her hard between the shoulders, crying loud like some feeble shell of herself.

Suddenly, she sensed it. Her. The wailing stopped. She stood, trembling, uncertain. The trespasser's magic was calling to her. As far as she could remember, her magic was always calling for hers, like tendrils of enticing silk trying to latch to her body, to her soul. Showing off some kind of contenance she didn't felt, she pushed the shower glass door open, standing naked before her uninvited guest. Emma knew she'd found her leaning on the door frame, still she didn't anticipate the unreadable expression on the Queen's perfect features. She expected some kind of smug smirk, a predatory smile, or maybe even one of her infamous angry glares that could froze the blood within anybody's veins. She was not prepared for the conflicting waves of emotions whirling in the brunette's eyes.

Emma walked out of the shower and moved in front of the older woman, silently challenging her to do something. It was reckless, suicidal even. "More like idiotic", she almost heard Regina, HER Regina, say. Here she was, facing the mighty Evil Queen, unarmed, stripped from her clothes, stripped from her barriers.

"This won't do, Miss Swan." The Queen whispered, almost caring, leaning a bit toward the blonde. "I need you to be worthy of my wrath. You are the Savior, not some pathetic weeping wench." She looked at Emma, waiting for a reaction. She was taunting her, gauging the Sheriff's intentions.

But the younger woman didn't bite. She just scrutinized the dark brown eyes, looking for something. She didn't know what, yet she was silently inquiring for anything that could remind her of Regina. Maybe she was looking for the concern the brunette so selflessly displayed when Emma was in pain. Maybe it was the "Henry-esque" tenderness her son's other mother often extended to her. Maybe it was their special bond, the bond parents, best friends, sisters in arms had with one another.

But the Queen was guarded. She was strong, the strongest she had ever been. Still, behind the facade, Emma found something familiar. It was something they constantly trifled with, albeit never acknowledging its existence... Longing. Hunger. Craving. The realization made the Savior breathless. Visions of entwined bodies, of lips, of olive skin, of flushed mounds and enticing valleys flooded her mind. Her eyes never leaving the older woman's, Emma started to retreat to the nearest wall.

The Evil Queen mindlessly walked with her, following her as if she was hypnotized. When her back hit the wall, Regina's dark incarnation made one more step, gluing her leather-clad body to the blonde's.

"What do you need the Savior for, your Majesty ?" Emma asked, her voice husky. The sorceress's eyes flickered down momentarily, eying the younger woman's lips yearningly.

"I need you to be strong. I need you to be fierce. I need you to be the Savior." The regal temptress replied, still glancing down to the blonde's mouth. Emma could feel the warmth of her breath, the swell of her breasts, the smell of her skin. It was an overdose. She felt heat pool down her stomach, her legs shaking with repressed desire.

"I don't think I can play that role, Regina." It was so easy to forget when the Queen was so close. So effortless to imagine that all of her best friend was still in there, that the woman she... cared for was whole, and that this whole person wanted to kiss her. Would Her Regina look at her like that? Would she lean against a wall with her, electricity flowing back and forth between them, building an unstoppable carnal thunderstorm? The Evil Queen didn't deny Emma the use of her name. She just leaned her face closer, her inflamed stare mapping every inch of Emma's face, of Emma's neck, while her hands sensually took hold of the Savior's hips.

"Regina..." Emma implored. The older woman planted her brown eyes into green orbs. Emma's voice was shaking.

"Kiss me", the Savior said. "Kiss me until I forget how terrified I am of everything wrong with my life."

Had the Queen been a few meters away, nobody would have been able to feel how startled she was by the blunt request. But her nails dug jerkingly into Emma, grasping the sides of her buttocks like the was afraid to lose her.

"No, Miss Swan... I will kiss you until you forget your very name, until you strip your soul bare for me... "

Emma wantonly whimpered as their lips met. Everything faded away. The guilt. The anger. The regrets. The pain. All that existed was the heaven of Regina's lips, of Regina's tongue sensually forcing her way inside her mouth. For the first time in months, she felt alive, her senses sent in overdrive after being deprived for so long. She grabbed the Queen's waist, pulling their hips together. She forgot about saviors and queens and light and darkness. And like the Queen had promised, Emma was naked. She felt like her insides her being sucked out of her, only to be displayed in front of the Queen's inquisitive gaze.

But the older woman's eyes were closed. She was kissing Emma with abandon, sensually, her crimson lips trembling. To the younger woman's surprise, it was not ravenous, or angry, or furious. No, the dark enchantress seemed to be savoring her like some kind of expansive wine, like a ripped fruit. Her tongue was caressing, her lips firm and tantalizing, taking, commanding, seducing. The blonde woman was shivering, the fever rising on her skin so intense that the cold leather of the Queen's regalia was too much in contrast. When she tried to touch the brunette's neck, the sultry witch magically bonded her hands up the wall. Emma was at her mercy. And the worst is she didn't care. She grounded her hips against the Queen's asking for something, anything. And the Queen understood.

Her hands moved up from the Savior's hips, leaving nails indents on her skin. She grabbed Emma's breasts with both hands, massaging them, still kissing her. Emma moaned loudly when nipples were teased between fingers while the Queen gasped in her mouth. The brunette painfully withdrew from her lover's mouth and latched her lips on her breast, switching between licks and nips and bites. She repeated the same treatment to the other globe, the blonde rendered mad with desire, her head trashing from left to right, panting, moaning.

"Please, your Majesty, I need you", she cried.

Said Majesty groaned, leaving the fleshy mounds, her eyes longingly traveling down Emma's body. Her hand followed, amorously caressing the firm muscles of the Savior's toned belly. She cupped dripping folds, hazel gaze probing inside jade's, awaiting consent. After a quick nod, a questing finger dipped into hot liquid heat, searching for the rigid nub demanding the regal woman's attention. When she found it, the Savior, who was holding her breath the whole time, exhaled a breathy whimper that spurred the Queen. She wanted Emma's pleasure. She circled her clitoris, already soaked in wetness, and watched with amazement as the blonde's face contorted with bliss.

"Oh my God! Ooh. My... More." The Savior was already shaking, nearing an explosive climax. The sorceress quickly entered her with 2 fingers, her thumb resuming the tantalizing circles that seemed to make Emma unravel. The brunette wanted to kiss the woman before her, mark her neck, her breast, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the perfection of Emma's flushed cheeks, sweaty brows, curled lips, trembling throat...

"Yes! Yes! Regina! Don't stop!" The Evil Queen almost froze at the name, but she couldn't stop herself. It was too late, she was completely enamored by the fact that Emma Swan was coming undone in her arms. So she kept moving, her thumb rolling faster and entering a third finger.

As the Savior came, as a flood of wetness dripped on the brunette's hand, Regina felt her heart filled with emotions, ones she thought were only attached to her other self. Unadulterated joy. Untainted love. The thought almost made her retreat her fingers from the still pulsating walls of Emma's insides. But she was selfish. She needed to take the Savior until the end, she wanted to feel every wisp of rapture she was giving to the annoying blonde who walked goofily beside their son all of those years ago. That's when she realized...

Evil or not, Regina Mills loved Emma Swan. Every incarnation of her would be in love with the Savior. Faith was, indeed, a bitch, a bitch laughing at the irony of Regina's parade of lovers. The first lost because of her own mother and Snow White. Then Robin, her soulmate whose soul was catapulted into oblivion. And now, the only person having the power to destroy her was still writhing against her body, arms over her shoulders, head thrown back against the wall, blonde curls everywhere, still wet from the shower. The Queen didn't know if she should laugh or cry.

She swallowed down her emotions, physically and figuratively, and gently removed her fingers. With one wave of her hand, Emma's wrists were free and she was dressed in THE uniform : the skinnies, the white tank-top, the knee-high boots, the red jacket. Still pressed together against the wall, Regina tilted her neck until their foreheads rested together. She hugged Emma around the waist, needing strength to voice what she was about to say.

"Now miss Swan, you know what I need from you. You need to be the Savior. You need to be strong and find a way to defeat me, to lock me back where I belong. Because if you don't, you and I, we will never fulfill our destiny."

"And what destiny would that be, Regina?" The Queen opened her eyes. Emma was looking at her, at all of her, at her very inner soul.

"As stupid as you may act sometimes, we both know you are not that dense... Emma." The Savior gasped, her name sounding like a love song in the older woman's mouth.

They both startled when the front door opened downstairs. Emma jumped away from the brunette and walked toward the hallway, listening to the intruders. She heard people talking, Hook, Charming, Snow... And then Regina... She turned to look at the Queen, but she was gone. At first, the Savior wanted to weep. She was gone...

But then, she steadied herself. Regina was downstairs. Her Regina was still there. And she needed to be whole... So the Savior did was she was supposed to do. She needed to do what had to be done years ago. The story needed to be completed : The Savior and the Queen.

Yes, together, they would beat faith. And, at long last, she was ready!