Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me.

Part One

The sun blazed proudly on that late afternoon in the Spring. The Maine sky was a vibrant blue, without a whisper of a cloud for miles. At least, I think the sky belonged to Maine that day. The duality between our worlds had become hazy since they merged about a month ago, but I was always Emma Swan. That was for certain. Besides Henry and myself, everyone else had it a little rougher when it came to distinguishing identity.

"Miss Swan," came the all-too-familiar voice, smooth as black silk. I propelled myself off of Henry's desk into a standing position and spun around to face her. My eyes slowly drifted from her Manolo Blahnik pumps, up to her crimson lips which matched the color of the button-up shirt underneath her classic black suit. Her elegance made it all the more difficult to see her as sinister.

"You were late," I said with a smirk. "I took care of the parent-teacher conference. No sweat." The ironic thing was, I was becoming increasingly aware of the moisture that was creeping out of my glands, sliding against the red leather of my signature jacket. It really wasn't this hot in here a minute ago. Regina's forced smile faded as quickly as it came. She knew from Mary Margaret's somewhat less than subtle grin that there would be no more opposing this mother-daughter duo. Mary Margaret finished stapling her workbooks for tomorrow's class and gathered them up neatly. "You didn't miss much, Regina," she admitted. "Henry is happier than ever.

"It was true. Henry, my mother, my father, and myself were nearly giddy almost every day that we spent living as next door neighbors. The Prince and his Snow in their house, and Henry and I in a quaint little cottage that my father, Geppetto, and August built. Normally, Mary Margaret and I reveled in Regina's misery, but for some reason, today was different. The pain in her eyes seared through me like a branding iron. "So then, there's nothing I need to know," Regina concluded. Mary Margaret and I shook our heads.

"Fine then. Miss Swan, I do hope you didn't forget that he is spending the weekend with me this week," she added. Admittedly, I had forgotten, but I wasn't about to let her know it. "Sure. No problem, I'll drop him by after school on Friday," I said. "On that note," Mary Margaret interrupted, "I'm off to take Henry to his movie date with Gretel. I smell puppy love!" She beamed. Once she was behind Regina, my mother gave me a sideways glance followed by a reassuring nod, silently asking permission to leave me alone with the raven haired vixen. I gave a small bob of the head, and she was gone.

"I really don't know how I'm supposed to feel about our son going on a date at 11-years-old," Regina said after a long silence, her expression softening. It was the first time I had heard her refer to Henry as our son. I felt a warmth spread through my body that I was unfamiliar with. Our son. Our son. I swished it around like mouthwash, and I enjoyed the tingly sensation. Wait a minute. Why was I associating Regina with tingling sensations? It must just be food poisoning. Although by now, I had certainly learned to avoid apples. "I know how to feel about it," I said, snapping out of my daze. "Pissed. This was little miss puppy love's idea. Not mine." Regina let out a breathy laugh, having expected my quick-tempered response. "Wanna go spy on them at the movies?" I asked, suddenly imagining Regina and myself seated next to one another in a dark theater, our hands sharing the same armrest, inching closer and closer together.

As if reading my every thought and desire, in one swift move across the floor, Regina was standing not seven inches from my face. "That's quite an evil notion," she said, her eyes flickering from my eyes to my trembling lips. "I must have rubbed off on you, Swan," she said. "Not yet," I replied, not fully realizing my own innuendo. Evidently Regina did, because she inched even closer to me. It felt like slow motion, her olive complexion blurring with the sunlight streaming in. I had never realized that her hair smelled like sweet cinnamon. Her breath was cool against my burning red cheeks. My whole body was aflame from the inside. A vision became crisp and clear in my mind of Regina transforming my mortal body into a rising Phoenix, writhing with untamed passion, physically engulfed in fire. This is who I was now. "Shhh," Regina cooed. "Relax." She placed a surprisingly gentle hand on my shoulder, slowly moving ir down to my tense, balled up fists. She released the tension effortlessly, intertwining her fingers with my own. She buried her face in my blonde locks, inhaling the scent of me. She opened her mouth and released a gasp of delight. That sent me over the edge. My limit was more than exceeded. A different kind of tension filled my muscles. I placed two firm hands on the sides of her well-toned arms, forcing the exotic beauty back against the hard wall. We collided against it, her back to the wall, my front to hers. Our abdomens melted together like two missing pieces to a grand puzzle. She reared back her head and let out a deep, sultry moan that turned into satisfied laughter, a sound that gave me my wings. My breathing grew heavier by the second. She looked deep into the darkest corner of my soul, licking the corner of her lip.

I drew close enough that we shared a single breath, and she closed the gap. Her supple lips cradled my bottom lip gently until I opened them wider, my tongue feverishly locating hers. There it was again, cinnamon. The scent, the taste that we created together. The spicy, zesty flavor was passed back and forth as our tongues moved in unison. A dance between souls. I didn't care what world we were in, or what names we were born with. At this moment, I was fire and she was ice. One should not exist with the other, and yet, we craved the slow burn.