Disclaimer: I own neither the rights or the characters of Once Upon a Time or Cruel Intentions. This is a fan made product made for no monetary value. Just for fun.

Prologue.

"Regina, Regina. Let's try and focus." She blinked at the ceiling. Her head rested against the armrest.

"What can I even say at this point?" she suddenly declared. She swung her legs off the couch and moved to the window. "I'm pathetic."

"You're not pathetic." She shot the seated middle-aged therapist a quick glance as she continued moving.

"Yes I am." She took a couple deep breaths and neared the glass. "I shouldn't feel sorry for myself just because I'm some poor little rich girl."

"It's not your fault," he said, gently. "You are at a very difficult time in your life and without great parenting, things can go awry." Regina pressed her head against the glass window despondently as he continued, "But, you just have to rise above your parent's mistakes." He paused and pulled out a book from a side table and offered it to her with a small sad smile. "Here." She turned toward him and took it from him. She looked down at the cover. Good Parenting: How to raise a perfect child. Dr. Hopper boldly sat on a large wingback chair in his signature sweater vest and tie with a finger on his chin and an umbrella leaning against the arm of the chair. His Dalmatian was curled up at his feet. The name Dr. Archibald Hopper was prominently emblazoned underneath.

"An autographed copy?" she asked with awe in her voice, "Can I keep this?"

He smiled at her. "It's yours," he said with a smile, while making a note in his book: Bill for book with a few dollar signs after. He loved his wealthy clients.

"You have to stop being so hard on yourself. What's in the past is over. You aren't the same person you were a few months ago. You've taken great strides to change," he said emphatically.

"You're right," she agreed, nodding her head meekly. "You know, it's… hard to believe there was once a period in my life when all I could think about was… sex."

He shook his head sadly, "Let's just be glad you've moved passed that stage of your adolescence."

"I know and I am. I mean take yourself for example." She bowed her head and looked up him through her eyelashes. "You're a very attractive man," she said, with a mild stutter as she looked away. "You have amazing hands." She paused and he blinked waiting for her to continue. She looked back at him, meeting his eyes. "I'd love to photograph them." He stared up at her with narrow eyes. Her eyes were on his hands. "But that was the old me." She spun around and moved toward his desk. "I'm cured now." She leaned against it holding her arms in front of her with a timid smile, her eyes shining with sincerity.

"I'm so proud of you," he said, glancing at his watch without an ounce of subtlety.

"Same time next week?" she asked, knowing her time was up. He stood up and moved to shake her hand.

"Oh, did I not tell you? I start my book tour next week," he announced grasping her hand. "I'll be back in a month or so."

She pulled his hand in closer. "Why?" Her thumb moved against the outside of his hand in a suggestive way.

He remembered her comment about his hands and pulled away quickly. "Because other people need my help, too." He moved around his desk. "You're going to do just fine." He sat down, already dismissing her from his mind.

"I hope so," she said rather piteously.

"If you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to call my service." He began making notes in a book on his desk. Regina hovered over his desk.

"I could use a hug," she said sounding like a petulant teenager. He smiled awkwardly up at her and stood. He made his way around the desk and put his arms around her, clearly wishing he were anywhere else. She pulled him tighter against her body, squeezing tightly. He patted her back awkwardly as his phone rang. His secretary announced he had a call from his son.

Finally released from Regina's arms, he told his secretary to put him on hold. Regina absently picked up a framed photo from his desk. "This him?"

"That's my August." He smiled, proudly.

"He seems nice."

"He's great. Straight A student, brilliant writer. He was editor in chief of his school paper for 3 years. He's attending Princeton this fall."

She stroked the picture with her nail. "Wow. Now this is exactly the type of boy I should be with. Sensitive and smart. Handsome." She traced his jaw with her fingertip.

He eyed her warily. "He's a little out of your league," he said taking the photo from her hands smartly and placing it back on her desk. "No offense."

"Oh well," she said sadly, clutching the therapist's book tightly, while he put his hand in the small of her back ushering her to the door. At the door, she paused. "Thank you." She held the book up between them. "For everything." She looked him in the eye before slipping out the door.

As it shut between them, he muttered, "Fucking rich girls," under his breath. He moved back to his desk and after a moment, his secretary reminded him his son was still on the line. He shifted his glasses up a moment before he connected with his son. "Hi honey."

"You put me on hold?!" August shouted into the phone. "You have always said that I come first even over your appointments."

"I know. I'm sorry," he said rather patronizingly. "Is something wrong?"

"She told me she loved me and I believed her." August started sobbing. "I'm so stupid."

"Now Woody darling, it's alright. Just calm down. It happens. Take a deep breath. Translate your emotions…"

"Don't Woody me! And would you cut your psycho babble bullshit for once, dad. She posted pictures of me on the internet."

"What kind of pictures?" he asked, instantly thinking of his book tour.

"Nude pictures. What do you think?" He shouted.

"Jesus Christ. How bad?"

"Bad, dad. She uh," he coughed, "well, suggested umm role playing."

"How could you be so stupid?! What about your scholarships? What about my book? What have you done?!"

"She was just so charming," he moaned. "She was so gorgeous. All she had to do was tell me how I had great hands and how she wanted to photograph them and," he sobbed, "things just got completely out of ha- control!" The phone fell from the good doctor's hand and his jaw dropped. That woman! That evil, evil woman. He could hear his son yelling for him from the receiver on his desk, but he ignored him. He ran to the window and flung it open. Regina was strutting across the street without a care in the world. He watched her toss his book in the trash can by her car.

"REGINA! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS. I SWEAR TO GOD!" He screamed out the window. "YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH THIS!" She turned and shielded her eyes from the sun, looking up at his window with a tiny smirk. A tall blonde woman in a tight pencil skirt stopped next to her to look up at the crazed therapist.

"What's his problem?" she asked Regina. At this point, his face was nearly as red as his hair. He continued to spew insults and promises of revenge, but Regina's attention was now solely on the beautiful woman beside her. Her face broke into a dazzling smile.

"Looks like his therapy isn't helping," she said, nodding her head to the large sign under his window that declared his office to be one for a therapist. The woman laughed.

"I think you might be right." She looked Regina up and down with interest. Regina smirked and leaned in. Her blouse fluttering open just enough to draw the woman's eyes down.

"I usually am and I think you are absolutely stunning. What's your name?"

"Kathryn," she said, shyly yet clearly appreciating the attention.

"That's a beautiful name. I'm Regina and I'm going to take you to lunch."

"Okay," she said sliding her hand into Regina's as they headed down the street, passing the sheriff who was clearly heading to the therapist's office.