Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Once Upon a Time or Give Me What You like by Avril Lavigne.
When you turn off the lights
I get stars in my eyes
Is this love?
Maybe someday
So don't turn on the lights
I'll give you what you like
- Give me What you Like, Avirl Lavigne
One
Emotions only ever got her in trouble.
Not in the kind of trouble she saw on ridiculous TV programs that had weepy women eating ice cream in ridiculous pyjamas with tissues strewn about them.
She chuckled to herself, taking a sip of much needed cider, no, it was the kind of trouble that started a decade long war fueled by vengeance and threw her land under a curse for nearly thirty years.
Something physical, tangible was always easy.
She could have any person she liked in her bed, man or woman, and they would please her exactly how she liked.
That was until the day Emma Swan brought white sparks with her to Storybrooke.
Tiny white sparks of physical attraction that had the irritating tendency to pop up between them when she least expected.
They were a nuisance and a pleasure.
They were something she could control, that she could mold into her own reward.
But they tasted of something more, of soft edges and danger.
Please wrap your drunken arms around me
And I'll let you call me yours tonight
Cause slightly broken's just what I need
And if you give me what I want
Then I'll give you what you like
There was only so much one can take. Nearly losing your only child in a collapsed mine shaft was right up there.
After Henry went to bed she paced around the large mansion with long, sharp strides. She walked faster and faster though every empty room, trying to run away from the horrors that her mind willed to life.
She faltered only at the door of his room, peeking through the crack to watch for the rise and fall of his chest.
On her fifth round of the house, she poured herself a glass of cider. Instead of drinking it though, she stared into the dark liquid, seeing only the colour of her son's eyes.
He was alive.
But she wasn't.
She couldn't feel whole anymore.
Everything was slipping from her steadfast grasp, her curse, her son, those pesky white sparks.
A knock at the door startled her, the glass falling from her hand.
It didn't break, it was something at the very least that stayed whole in her life.
She laughed sharply and the sound echoed though the large mansion.
Regina pulled open the door, revealing a foggy night and an Emma swan.
"Emma? What are you doing here?"
She pushed past her, heading for the stairs.
"Stop! Where are you going." She hissed, longing to yell and scream and throw the nearest silver candle stick at her head.
She nearly crashed into the blonde just outside Henry's room.
"He's breathing," Emma sagged against the doorframe, her eyes coming to focus on the brunette.
"Of course he is Miss Swan." She watched as the other woman's gaze dropped inappropriately lower. Irritation replaced her anxious fear.
"I just had to see."
Of course, she had to say something that Regina could understand completely. "You saw, now kindly leave. " Her whisper pierced through the dim grey light of the hall.
Emma fell forward, lips crashing into her own as they stumbled against the opposite wall. Sloppily, she slipped her tongue between her lips.
Regina hummed, she tasted like whisky, sharp, spicy and warm.
So warm in her cold life.
Her hands were hot on her bare skin as Emma tugged her turtleneck from her slacks.
The other woman smiled a broken smile, asking wordlessly to feel whole again.
Regina couldn't deny that she wanted the young woman, that she longed for a human connection this evening. She'd regretted sending Graham away, but now she had a second chance to find something to hold onto.
She dragged the blonde down the hall and pushed her towards the bed.
Emma scurried backwards tugging off her jeans as she went and pulling off her shirt.
Reina for her part stepped out of her slacks, leaving them to pool on the floor. She folded her shirt carefully on the dresser and slid over to Emma.
They fought to take everything, deep kisses and hurried selfish touches.
It wasn't long before they fell into a surprising rhythm together, greedily calling for more until they both came apart.
They drew apart as soon as the violent shudders ceased, turning away from each other to catch their breath.
"He's ok," Emma muttered
"We're ok," Regina agreed, nodding against the pillow.
Emma slid from the bed without another word. She left behind a slightly less broken woman, who managed to slip into a dreamless mere minutes after she left.
Please tell me I'm your one and only
Or lie and say at least tonight
I've got a brand new cure for lonely
And if you give me what I want
Then I'll give you what you like
She leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping on a mug of tea. Mint, chamomile and ginger. The herbs soothed her aching throat, and filled her lungs with steam to push away the stinging smoke.
She'd wanted, she'd needed a hug from her son.
Her hands shook as she put down the mug.
She was alone, so alone. And scared, so scared.
She just needed someone to hold her, to tell her she was alright.
Regina wrapped her hands around the warm ceramic, clutching the beverage for dear life. This rapidly cooling tea was all she had in this world.
A single tear made a track down her cheek, through the grey soot. She brushed it away, the dark smudge only growing.
It was just a small fire, a terrifying few seconds while she waited for Emma to come back for her, but that's when she felt she hit rock bottom. It was all slipping away from her. She was alone. She had to adapt or fight or maybe both.
The doorbell rang, startling her out of her reverie. She set the mug down quickly and it tipped over, rolling away on its side and leaving a trail of tea behind it. The regal woman hesitated, glancing between the door and the spill.
In the end hospitality won out and she hurried to open the door.
Emma.
Soot covered jeans and tired eyes.
"How's your ankle?" Were the first and only words out of her mouth.
"Why do you care?" Regina spat out, coating the words with steel barbs to guard her lonely heart.
"Who says I do." Emma returned, though the offhand rejection didn't met her eyes.
Her traitorous heart leapt. Someone cared. She cared without manipulation. She cared despite the roiling anger that blistered every interaction they shared. "Its fine."
Her words were proud, her shoulders squared, but Emma could tell it pained her slightly as she turned and led them upstairs.
Emma stood awkwardly by the bed, bending to remove her boots and toss her coat on the pile after them.
"What are you doing?"
"You know what." Emma shook her head, unsnapping her jeans and tugging off her socks.
"You're filthy." Regina tried. She'd led Emma here, it was what they both wanted, but she hated herself for giving in, for needing so badly.
"So are you." Emma shot back pointedly. She met Regina's eyes as her shirt joined the rest of her clothes, "But you're still beautiful."
It was a lie. It had to be.
It didn't belong here with the heat, the flames, the sparks.
But just for tonight, her lonely heart would take it.
She'd take the words, she'd take the woman.
She removed her own clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. They were likely ruined anyways, so what did it matter.
The brunette climbed on the bed, cringing at her sooty skin against clean linens. She beckoned to the blonde, who still stood awkwardly beside the bed. "Come here."
Emma moved in a blur of limbs, her lips crashing into Regina's in a bruising kiss, the skin broke, the metallic taste of blood washing over them both.
It meant she was alive.
She sucked her lower lips into her mouth and released it with a pop, she soothed it with her tongue.
Her nails sunk into Emma's muscled biceps as she clutched her closer, her hands fell to her hips and tugged them together. Her knee landed painfully as she came crashing down on top of her.
It meant she wasn't alone.
The blonde quickly eased to the perfect amount of pressure, sending bursts of pleasure to her swollen centre.
Her breath came in heavy pants, stinging her throat and burning her lungs.
It meant she'd survived.
Emma met her mouth for a searing kiss before beginning to make her way down Regina's quivering body. Her mouth left heated kisses, between her breasts, her stomach, her hips, the inside of her thighs. The skin quickly cooled and she shivered with anticipation, waiting for the next puff of hot air against her skin, the next open mouthed kiss and the next moment when they'd be nothing but an icy mark on her body.
Emma always came back.
She'd come back for her in the fire.
A sob escaped.
She wasn't alone.
Emma's mouth found its final destination as she lifted her leg over her shoulder. Her muffled voice mumbled, "We have to keep your ankle elevated Madam Mayor."
She had no words, only moaned in agreement and urged her closer.
Within a few minutes, Emma's mouth brought her skillfully to a writhing orgasm.
She let her legs fall to the bed, her fingers tangling in Emma's hair to bring her up for a heated meeting of mouths and tongue. It wasn't enough to take the pleasure, she needed to feel Emma's need, to bring her to the same downfall.
Even as she rode the lingering waves of pleasure that curled in her belly, her hand snaked between them, taking Emma over the edge.
She collapsed on top of her, her mouth finding her neck for absent minded kisses.
Only then did she feel satisfied. They were even, they'd helped each other.
The kisses continued and Regina couldn't help but feel truly close to someone, closer than she'd even felt to Graham.
It was a lie of course.
Their true interactions consisting of fierce tension and strong words.
But it was a wonderful lie if that's all this was.
As the rhythm of Regina's breathing slowed, Emma slid from the bed and her clothes were hurriedly tugged on. She grabbed a washcloth from the adjacent bathroom to wash the soot from Regina's face and the smudge from her neck. "Bye."
"Bye." Regina mumbled after her, pulling the heavy duvet closer to preserve the heat left behind.
Emotions aren't that hard to borrow
When love's the word you never learned
And in a room of empty bottles
If you don't give me what I want
Then you'll get what you deserve
Of all the holidays that plagued this world, Valentine's Day was the absolute worst. Cheap flowers, cheaper chocolates and trashy Hallmark cards. Even in the shell of a town she'd created, the putrid pinks and reds of the holiday snuck their way into the lives of the people of Storybrooke.
This year, things were changing, people were finding their love.
It was even more sickening.
She'd marched around under a dark cloud today, every cell in her body screaming at her to cast another curse, to damn Valentine's Day to the deepest of Hells.
Only Henry gave her pause when she peeked in on him to tell him goodnight. He was staring at a gaudy frilly card with such reverence.
The icy anger in her chest melted just a little, a tiny flame of hope springing to life and burning softly.
The darkness that clouded her mind swirled into pale confusion.
Nothing made sense anymore. Things weren't black and white.
She tossed and turned under her cool grey sheets, she could feel herself losing control, at once desperate to do something drastic and on the other hand to just give in to the change and let herself be happy.
She had to pull everyone apart again, Snow, Charming, Emma, Henry. She had to squash the happy endings somehow.
But she was tired. So tired of fighting. Couldn't she be allowed after all this time to spend an evening laughing and talking with her little prince, who had his first romantic feelings. Couldn't she be allowed to enjoy a sexual relationship with an attractive woman and not have to think about politics.
Love, relationships, those were difficult. They had been beaten out of her, torn limb from limb. She didn't know how.
It was so easy to fall back on what she'd always known.
Darkness.
From the darkness came a thud, a snort and a scuffle.
Her heartbeat picked up, sure after all these years that it was her mother coming to slash her way into her life and destroy the pieces she'd managed to stick together. She grabbed an umbrella and padded to the front door, the marble cold on her bare feet.
Emma.
She held up a bottle of champagne, already open, and a single red rose, slightly crushed. "You're a sight for sore eyes, I've had a hell of a night."
"Does it look like I care?" And still, her careful gaze checked the other woman 's body for bruises and her eyes for sadness.
Emma shrugged, taking and sip of champagne before handing over the bottle and the thorn- less stem. "For you Madam Mayor." She stalked into the house, kicking the door shut with her foot. "I'll fill you in tomorrow, but for now, happy freaking valentine's day."
Their lips met, their arms came around each other, Emma's hands fisting in the silk nightgown and Regina sloshing the champagne on her leather jacket.
They stumbled to the study.
It was closest.
The blonde snorted with a disparaging laugh, "Oh look a fire, how freaking romantic."
"Stop. Talking. Now. Or I will toss you out."
Emma's lips pressed together in a thin line, waiting eagerly as the silk nightgown hit the floor, followed shortly by the now empty bottle of champagne.
She walked to the brunette, tracing a finger along the shadows on her arm, along her collar bone. She pressed their lips together in something of a tender kiss.
It frightened them both.
Nails dug in, teeth clacked together in their attempt to taste deeply, to take more than they could.
The two women stumbled back to the plush velvet settee, limbs entwining, hips rocking.
As their bodies cooled, as their breathing returned to normal, as they comfortably sank into the curves of each other's bodies, the silence became overwhelming.
It was a time normally reserved for soft kisses and affectionate words, but those words couldn't find their place in their relationship. It couldn't be filled with passion.
With the passion gone and the tense quiet dragging on them, Emma stood up. "I'll call you tomorrow at nine, it's important."
Clothes in place, she took a final glance at the crushed rose and tiptoed rather loudly out of the house.
Regina dragged herself away from the warm flickering flames, the cozy colours invading the grey and adding to her confusion.
She couldn't feel cozy, she shouldn't feel warm.
When you turn off the lights
I get stars in my eyes
Is this love?
Maybe someday
I've got this scene in my head
I'm not sure how it ends
Is it love?
Maybe one day
So don't turn on the lights
I'll give you what you like
After her dream, the darkness suffocated her, the loneliness squeezed her heart. She could feel everything slipping away.
First the last dregs of her sanity had abandoned her after she'd invited David for dinner. She was just so lonely and desperate, she thought in an attempt to rationalize her behaviour, but she couldn't avoid the fact that hated herself for it. She didn't want it, she knew in her heart that she didn't, but the rot in her soul was far more impulsive.
Then the dream, Emma pushing her against that tree, but all she could feel was sadness not anger. She no longer wished to fight, only wished to sit across the dinner table form her and have Henry chatting between them. That her fight, that her anger was gone, that was perhaps the most terrifying realization of all.
Her life was in pieces, all floating and flying away. She needed to put it back together again and then maybe someday their attraction could turn to something more.
She heard a shuffling at the front door, knowing instinctively that it could only be one person, she padded downstairs without bothering to turn on a light.
"I almost took Henry today... or rather yesterday." She spoke the words with little to no emotion, a simple stating of fact. Her eyes told the whole story, the guilt, the pain, the submission.
"I tried to seduce David today." Regina replied in much the same tone.
It was almost a competition.
Which woman had committed the most horrible act, which woman had sunck the lowest.
Anger dissipated.
They were so angry with themselves, so disgusted with their own crimes that their anger at each other was snuffed out.
For the first time they moved to each other with slow steady movements, mouths meeting and fingers grasping at clothing.
Thy kisses took them upstairs on weak legs. Shaking fingers removed their clothing.
Smooth hands moved across smoother skin, Emma teasing soft breathy moans from Regina's full lips as her hands molded her full breasts, thumbs teasing the sensitive buds. She took her time, pressing open mouthed kisses to moonlit skin, giving Regina the softer edge of pleasure.
She looked up, her eyes full of resignation and apology before her she dipped her head to taste Regina at her core. Her tongue flicked and licked, her nails dug into her hips.
The brunette let her fingers entwine with Emma's, bringing soft edges and tender affection to the sharp, spicy sexual attraction.
She lifted her hips, begging for more. Of everything.
Emma responded eagerly, until the older woman quivered and shook with an orgasm that left them both breathless.
Emma crawled up her body, their lips meeting so that Regina tasted herself. Emma's tongue trust eagerly, demonstrating exactly what she wanted.
Before she could quite feel the tips of her fingers, while her belly still quivered with the aftershocks of pleasure, she fumbled for the blonde. Her knee at first, then with her fingers, at once dipping her head to fill her mouth with pert nipples, sucking and nipping.
Emma's hips lifted from the bed as she rocked against Regina's palm, clenched around her fingers. She came with a cry and feverish plea, though for what neither of them knew.
They lay breathless in each other's arms, imagining in another world, another life that they could simply stay like this all night, perhaps make love in the early morning light before getting Henry ready for school.
In this post coital darkness, smelling of sex and two different types of shampoo, it was so easy to dream.
When she woke in the early morning light, she was cold and alone. The five minutes before her alarm went off was all the time she needed to make a decision.
Maybe someday her relationship with Emma Swan would turn into love. But today it was nothing but a shallow sexual release encroached on by deep seated anger.
Could she risk everything for selfish pleasure and a mere hope for the future.
No.
That she even entertained such a possibility sealed her fate.
She had to pick up the pieces of her life.
She must be rid of Emma Swan, those white sparks and the dreams that came with it.
Maybe someday.
But not today.
A/N: This is a fic written for entirely selfish purposes. I heard the new Avril Lavigne album and immediately thought Swan Queen so I wanted to write a fic to a few of these songs. Pluuuus this gives me the chance to go back and tackle scenes from previous seasons that I wasn't around to write fic for. I loved writing angry season one for Mayor Mills and Sherriff Swan. So anyways thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.