AN: Dark!OQ week-Free Day yo. I have a Dory brain, but someone asked me once (like three decades ago) to smut-up that Dark!OQ scene where TEQ checks Robin out so, here you go (sort of). I took several liberties ;). Also, I'll post all Dark!OQ drabbles in here. Sometimes they'll be lineal (first three will be), and sometimes not. Enjoy. All mistakes are mine.

New Beginnings

It shouldn't affect her this much; the way his pants strain over his ass, the way the muscles on his back ripple even through layers of clothes, the way her insides warm up at his small grunts, huffs, and sighs as he digs deeper in front of her.

But moments later he's turning around, a bored and certainly annoyed look on his face. Yet she can't focus on anything else but the way his lips look, scruffy beard tantalizing her, calling out to her to just lean in, to just get a taste of him as a free woman.

Will he gasp if she bites on his lower lip like the other one did? Will he groan when her tongue grazes his? Or deepen the kiss like the other one used to do? Will he grip her waist, palm her ass, and push her further against the tree behind her?

Gods, she shouldn't have stared at him. Should've just done this with her magic, that way she would already be on her way to her better half's demise.

That way, she would've been staring at Regina's dying face instead of his handsome face glistening with sweat.

But her curiosity, that voice inside of her begging her to flirt, to gawk at him, had won over.

And now she has to deal with this.

With him staring at her intently from six feet away, a knowing look on his face.

"If all you wanted was to peek, you should've only asked, your majesty."

"What ever gave you such an idea," she says, arching an eyebrow in false disdain at the thought. But still, she remains that way, leaning against a tree, lower lip being pulled between her teeth. She needs to get a grip of herself, or a firm grip of him so she can ride him to oblivion-

"For starters, you could've done this with magic," he says arching an eyebrow.

Her lips form a thin line as she straightens her spine and moves away from the tree, walking closer to him. "I rather save my energy for destroying my," she rolls her eyes in disgust, "better half."

"Oh is that so," the dark haired man says on an arched brow, resting his arm on the top of the shovel's wooden handle.

The Queen scoffs. "What's the sudden interest in what I do or don't do? You don't mind doing a little dirty work, do you?" She asks her intense gaze directed at him, unblinking.

Robin offers her a sly smile and an arch of his brow, "I must say, all the dirty work I've done have had their much adequate compensations."

Oh and that, that's definitely a little something that the other didn't have. That bluntness, that little glint in his eyes that awakens in her a hunger she's never felt before.

"Is that what you're looking for, thief? Compensation?" She asks, a small smirk appearing on her lips as she crosses her arms in front of her chest, breasts almost spilling out of her dress.

He breaks their gaze, and swallows hard when he merely glimpses at her chest, before he's grinning and meeting her gaze again.

"I'm not an overly generous man. I won't do a job out of the goodness of my heart."

"And what type of," she sighs for good measure, lowering her voice as she continues, "compensation are you looking for?"

He seems to consider the question for a moment, looks at her chest again, only to smirk knowingly at her. "How about a glimpse at what this dementing town has to offer?" He asks, similar to what she'd offered earlier that night.

The Queen smirks, bites her lower lip and arches an eyebrow.

"Keep digging," she nods to the spot on his side, and Robin turns around, grin in place all the while feeling her eyes on his back.

The moment is short lived, for when he starts to dig again -less focused this time- the shovel collides exactly with what she's looking for. He digs out the box, and almost immediately the Queen rips it from his hands, opens it to bring out a pair of scissors and stares intently at them, a devilish grin appearing on her face.

"Allow me to understand. How do a pair of scissors become Regina's demise?" He asks, his face straight but oh so obviously amused by the absurdity of it all.

She simply stares at him straight in the eyes.

"My apologies, your majesty," he bows in front of her in false reverence, "I just fail to see the logic behind this absurdity."

"Would you like to never see again?"

"Feisty, are we?"

"They're magical scissors-"

"That much I gather," he says matter of factly and the queen rolls her eyes, decides to ignore it and continue talking.

"I'll use them to finally separate myself from Regina, completely."

"...So when the time comes, you can destroy her without destroying yourself in the process," he finishes, nodding at her as if to let her know he's finally catched on.

The Queen smirks, stares at him. "For a peasant, you're not that stupid."

"For an evil queen, you're not that evil."

"Are you," she raises an eyebrow, blood red lips curling up in a smirk, heartbeat raising as she lowers the scissors, "challenging me?"

"Oh I wouldn't dare challenge royalty, m'lady," he smirks.

"Careful, thief," she moves closer to him, gaze travelling around his face, contemplating him, "I would hate having to burn your pretty face."

"Oh, giving away compliments so quickly-"

The queen laughs, a sarcastic thing from deep within and then turns around to place the box with the scissors on the floor.

"I still need you to do something for me," she says, matter of factly, turning to face him with an arch of her brow. He smirks, is about to say something but the Queen beats him to it. "And then you can have the compensation you clearly desire."

Amusement sparkles in his dark blue orbs, something else too, and already her center aches in anticipation, her nipples sensitive against the material of her dress. Would he be rougher that the other? Would he last through a couple of rounds? Would he be bossy? Thicker? Would he-

"Or maybe, I could receive part of it in advance."

Oh and is he forward or what. Well this is a game she plays oh, so well. So with a smirk, the Queen walks closer to him, and whilsts some men in her past held a hint of fear in their eyes, Robin doesn't, instead excitement dances in his eyes, mixed with lust.

He doesn't take a step back, doesn't move, doesn't break their gaze, not even when she's so close they share a breath, and that fact is exciting in itself. The Queen's breaks into a lopsided grin that has Robin's eyes moving down to look at her lips. A beat passes, then two, and just when she's about to talk, he crashes his lips against hers.

He doesn't give her time to process, kisses her roughly, tongue slipping through her lips. But the Queen responds eagerly, groaning when his palms grips her hips, and she tries to give back as much as she can, all lips and tongue and bites and moans. But she likes control, likes having men and women at her mercy. So she breaks the kiss, ignoring his groan of disapproval, ignoring the wetness pooling between her thighs, the ache of her taut nipples, and instead holds his face by the jaw, and smiles devilishly. He smirks at her, through half lidded eyes, and says, "I'm afraid that's not good enough-"

He growls, closes his eyes when her hands move down his front to cup his half-hard cock, palming him, tracing his length through his pants.

"You, thief," she begins, voice deep, adding a bit more pressure to her ministrations, "are a distraction." The Queen leans in to bite his lower lip, pulling it between her teeth and freeing it while meeting his gaze.

He lets out a deep chuckle, hisses when she traces his tip, is about to reply to her, but the devilish woman slips her much too small hand down the front of his pants, wraps it around his cock and gives him a slow stroke.

"Gods," he near shouts when she swipes her thumb against the head, circling the slit.

"Is that good enough?" She uses his own words against him, a pout adorning her features, only to chuckle darkly at the way his palms grip her waist more tightly, starting to thrust into her hand.

"Regina," he growls.

It's like a bucket of iced water has fallen over her, and the Queen tenses in front of him, opens her lust filled eyes, face crestfallen at the name he uttered. She shakes her head, at herself, at him, and quickly draws her hand back from his thickness.

"You're a distraction," she repeats, voice deeper.

Long gone is the teasing tone, the sexual woman, a new (old) darkness settling over her.

He is a distraction, from her goals, from her vengeance, from her freedom. So the Queen takes a step back, and then another, not meeting his gaze.

And just when he's about to call her name, she waves her wrist and a cloud of purple surrounds them.

• • •

She holds him hostage for hours, erection long gone, sexually frustrated and completely ignored as they wait for the other Regina to come. He tries to get her to talk, to think about what she's doing. He doesn't even know why he cares, because it's quite obvious the Queen doesn't, but he just does, even though it's clear that the Queen he'd seen during the night at the forest isn't the same as the one he sees in Regina's office.

So when the Queen wordlessly, and quite visibly distraught, gives him a vial with something belonging to an Aladdin later that day, he nods thankfully, albeit, for some reason, sad, understanding that this is what she's giving him back, a way to get back home.

And without words of goodbye or a sly smirk, she disappears in a cloud of purple smoke he knows, for some reason, he'll come to miss.

• • •

He shouldn't be thinking of her, especially since he's only known the woman for less than a day.

But he does.

He thought of her when he realized that in this realm she doesn't exist, that in this realm Snow and Charming killed her. And the small pang in his heart had surprised him.

He thought of her when he heard that the Young King was looking for her, wanting to avenge his grandparent's death and mother's kidnap.

And still, now, as the red haired beauty in front of him fills his jar of ale to the brim, her bosom almost spilling out of her corset, he thinks of her. Of brunette hair, of small hands, of dark but expressive eyes.

Even though she's realms away, even though she most definitely isn't thinking of him, even though he won't get to see her again.

But as he takes a swig of ale, he catches a glimpse of someone from the corner of his eye.

When he turns to face the intruder, he finds himself smiling, albeit smugly, and the Queen smiles in return.

• • •

They compensate each other down the line.