A/N: I haven't decided whether or not I want this to be one shot or if I want to expand it. If I did, it would turn to a completely AU Storybrooke, I think. If I get enough positive feedback, I'll keep writing for it, so please let me know if you think I should keep going with it.

James made his way to the guillotine, having resigned himself to his fate. King George was going to execute him. He was never going to see Snow again. He was going to die.

He was forced to his knees and made to bend. The lunette closed around his neck. He closed his eyes and prayed. Please let her save me.

He heard the blade release, but instead of a searing pain followed by darkness, he felt a splash of water followed by a chill. What's happening? He turned his head, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening when he heard a familiar voice along with a clicking of heels against the stones of the courtyard.

"Sorry to drop in on you," said the Evil Queen. James could barely see her past the guillotine once she approached the King. He'd met her previously at a palace event King George had held. "I want the man you pretend is your son," she announced.

James saw the expression on George's face change. How could she possibly know that? The Queen smirked, obviously reading the minds of every person in the courtyard. She turned a small circle. "Yes, dears, I know everything," she said, tossing her head as she looked back to George.

James was pulled from his position at the guillotine as the Queen promised he'd still suffer. "How?" George asked.

The shepherd-turned-prince looked to her majesty, hoping to hear why she'd saved his life. "By using him to destroy his one true love." She leaned forward a bit, just enough to emphasize her point. "By using him to bring an end to Snow White."

James' stomach turned as he saw them shake hands on it. "Deal," George said.

The Queen smirked, turned, and made her way back from whence she came. Her knights grabbed James by the arms, leading him away from the guillotine and toward what he was certain would be an even worse demise.

The Queen arrived at her carriage, where her footman opened the door and escorted her in. He moved to close the door. "What do you think you're doing?" She asked venomously. She added a sickly sweet grin as she looked at her prisoner. "My guest hasn't gotten in yet."

James looked at the woman's dark eyes as she smiled mischievously at him. The guards pushed him toward the door, and he remained planted on the ground, looking at the step where he was supposed to place his foot. "Don't be shy," she teased.

He looked up at her again, and for the first time, he realized how attractive she was. He wasn't blind. She was obviously a very good-looking woman, but he never thought he'd be attracted to her.

A foot kicked his shin roughly, knocking him out of his thoughts, and he stepped into the carriage, the door closing behind him.

He sat across from her, facing the opposite direction of which they were travelling. As the carriage began to move, James' eyes flicked toward the door.

"Don't be ridiculous, dear," she said, never looking up as she removed her black gloves. "The doors are sealed with magic." Her head remained tilted downward as she looked up at him from beneath her lids. "No one can get in or out without my permission."

He remained silent, refusing to speak to her. He would not give in to her evil.

A pout appeared on her face. "Well, this is no fun," she teased. "But then again, what did I expect from someone who fell for the unbelievably dull Snow White?"

His face was turning red with anger. It took all of his strength not to lunge at her. She sneered at his reaction and gazed out the window, watching the trees go by as they made their way back to her kingdom. She reached up and smoothed her hair with her left hand, and that's when James saw it.

There was a small ring on the fourth finger, which James deduced certainly wasn't from her late husband. She would have had a pure gold or silver wedding ring from King Leopold. This ring was tiny, and the metal was obviously something much cheaper than gold. Why would she wear such a thing?

"What is so fascinating, Charming?"

James looked up as the Queen crossed her legs and straightened her posture again. He was so taken back that he forgot himself. "I was just admiring your ring, Your Majesty," he said.

She held up her right hand, where a much more extravagant ring sat on her middle finger. It was encrusted with diamonds and rubies. "It was a gift from a dear friend," she said. "And please, call me Regina," she told him.

He furrowed his brow slightly. "Okay, Regina," he said, unsure of himself. He was surprised to find that he liked the way her name rolled off his tongue. It was an elegant name, fit for a queen such as herself. "But actually, I was referring to the band on your other hand."

She didn't even look down at her hand, but just twisted the ring around her finger. "Ah, yes," she said quietly. "That one is a bit more…sentimental."

He looked at her dark eyes, and he noticed just how empty they were. He could see her sadness regarding the history of the trinket. She quickly snapped back into herself again. "Oh, how rude of me," she said, waving her hand at him. The ties that bound his wrists came undone at the flick of her wrist, freeing his hands to move.

"What are you going to do to Snow?" He asked, suddenly remembering himself.

"First off, you're welcome," she said, gesturing to his now free hands. "Secondly, where is the fun in revealing my master plan now?"

She reached for the buttons on her red velvet coat, deftly unfastening them and shrugging the article of clothing off her shoulders. Underneath was a lace shirt that was flesh-colored. The top fit loosely around her collarbone, and a black strap fastened around her neck firmly.

The part of the piece that covered her breasts and stomach, however, was a black leather corset that matched the tight-fitting pants she wore. He noted that she was one of only two women he knew that ever wore pants like a man. The other was Snow.

Snow. He checked himself, but it was too late. Regina had already noticed his eyes roaming over her body as she removed the pesky coat. "Like what you see, Charming?" She asked, using Snow's name for him once again.

"Don't call me that," he said angrily.

A pout appeared on her face again. "What?" She asked, her hand grasping his knee and working its way up his thigh. "Missing your dear Snow?"

He batted the hand away, and she instantly pinned his arms above his head with her magic. "Tsk tsk." She shook her head and put her hands on his knees, allowing them to move firmly up his thigh.

He squirmed, trying to escape her hold, but it was no use. He was powerless against her. Not only because of her hold on him, but also because he'd fallen prey to her sensuality.

This did not go unnoticed by the Queen. Her eyes fell on the man's growing bulge and she smiled with delight. "Well, this is going to be very enjoyable," she said. She grasped him through his pants, causing a gasp to escape his mouth. She moved to her feet and bent to him, hovering just a centimeter away from his lips. With her low, sultry voice, she said, "You're mine now."

She closed the miniscule space between them in a bruising kiss. "No," he said into her mouth, trying to pull away from her. She moved her lips from his and attended to his neck, sucking and nipping at it, finally eliciting a growl from the man's throat. His resolve was weakening.

She returned to his mouth and he astonished himself by allowing her tongue to enter. She tasted of apples and cinnamon. It was invigorating.

Regina pulled away from him and sat where she had been before, leaving the shepherd-turned-prince with his mouth open, panting for air. She turned her attention to her black boots, which she unzipped slowly as he watched her every move. His erection was pressing against the fabric of his pants uncomfortably, which Regina could easily see. Eventually the boots and leather pants were gone and the Queen turned her attention to the man's shirt.

Agonizingly slowly, she unlaced his overshirt and tugged the white undershirt over his head, revealing his toned muscles. Yes, that will do nicely, she thought to herself, grinning wickedly.

With a wave of her hand, the magic pinning his arms to the wall of the carriage was lifted and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into a messy kiss. She ran her long nails down his torso, and he cringed from the sinful combination of pain and pleasure as he bit her lip, causing her to moan.

With a wave of her hand, her corset was gone, leaving her naked, straddling his lap. She grinded against him and he groaned, desperate for release. He reached between her legs and brushed his fingers over her clit, causing her to shiver. She moved her hands and unfastened his pants, releasing his throbbing erection.

She took it in one hand and began slowly pumping it, her mouth grazing over his as he moaned. He couldn't take it any longer. He had to have her.

He pushed her off so she was lying on the floor of the carriage and climbed on top of her, leaning down and taking a nipple in his mouth. She shuddered as he lightly bit it.

James looked into the Queen's lust-filled eyes. They both wanted this. No matter how much he wanted to pretend he was under a spell or how much she wanted to believe this was just her revenge, they couldn't deny that at that moment they were exactly what the other wanted.

He ran his cock over her entrance and she bucked in his direction, her body begging him for release.

When he finally thrust into her, he filled her completely, causing her to cry out loudly, "Oh my god!" Her body had never felt so much pleasure. He rubbed her clit with his thumb as he thrust into her, making her entire body shake in unbelievable ecstasy.

She sat up and kissed him again as he continued his movements, bringing her to the edge. "James," she breathed his name, and they both climaxed, her vagina contracting around him as they rode out the orgasm.

He collapsed on top of her, their bodies glistening with sweat as they tried to catch their breaths. "This means nothing," he insisted, breathing heavily against her neck.

She stared up at the ceiling, and with a smirk, she said, "Of course not, dear."