A/N: I'm back! So this idea came to me mid-way through Kitchen Kisses and I think it may possibly be original! At least, I've not seen a story with these elements in the SwanQueen fandom yet. Really keen to hear what you guys think …


The bell echoed down the corridor, signalling the end of class. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Regina gathered up her books and pen and slipped them inside the soft leather satchel before strolling out of the room with the rest of her peers. Everyone was already talking loudly about their weekend plans, relieved another week of school was over and that they, as seniors, were that little bit closer to graduating. Regina felt the same. She couldn't wait to be done with high school and get to college. As soon as she reached the corridor, her best friend, who had been in a different class, fell into step beside her.

"Still up for Moonlight later?" Zelena asked, looping her arm through Regina's as they walked towards the parking lot. "I bought a banging new dress which is going to make sure neither of us pay for a drink all night. Plus, I was thinking we could grab dinner at Parc beforehand."

"Parc again? We went there last Friday," Regina said, wrinkling her nose. The high end restaurant was one of the most exclusive in New York but the brunette's surname guaranteed her entrance whenever she and her friends desired a meal.

"Fine, what about Glint?"

Regina nodded her agreement to that suggestion, her cropped dark hair bouncing a little with the movement. "Yeah but I've got some errands to run first. Meet you there at seven?"

"What errands?" Zelena asked, her British accent warm yet pretentious. Despite being in the United States for most of her life, Zelena had failed to pick up the New York twang and instead spoke exactly as her British father did. "Can I tag along?"

"Are you still avoiding going home?"

The redhead scowled. "Ma is doing my nut. You know she checked to see if I'd done my homework last week? I'm eighteen; I don't need my ma checking my school work."

"Had you done it?" Regina asked, pushing open the door which led to the parking lot and stepping out into the warm air. The delicate silk top she was wearing fluttered in the gentle New York breeze.

"No, but that's not the point," Zelena replied. "I'm an adult. Why can't she see that?"

Regina shrugged. "Daddy's the same with me. We'll always be their little girls. You know he won't buy me a new car? He says this one is fine." The final statement was punctuated by Regina kicking the tyre of the sleek black Mercedes they were now stood besides.

"It is fine," Zelena pointed out.

"I've had it for over two years. It was my sixteenth birthday present. I think it's time for an upgrade, don't you?"

Zelena raised her eyebrow and then looked over the low roof of the sporty car to gaze at her own Porsche which was parked beside Regina's. "Dude, mine is four years old. Plus, I hit that dumb fire hydrant last month and the dent is still visible. I think I need an upgrade more than you."

"Well, if you do your homework, maybe your ma will buy you a new car," Regina teased.

Zelena huffed. "So are you getting a new car, Little Miss Swot?"

It was well known throughout Storybrooke Prep that Regina Mills, in addition to being from one of the wealthiest families in New York City, was also a very bright student. Everything came easily to Regina and she had coasted through school, popular amongst her classmates and teachers alike. She had easily secured her place at Yale University; not because of her family name but because she genuinely deserved to attend the prestigious school. Zelena West, on the other hand, was less academically minded and spent most of her free time drawing and painting. The trouble was, being a talented artist wasn't what her parents required for their daughter who was set to inherit a multi-million-dollar insurance company. Regina, herself expected to take over the Mills multi-billion-dollar technology empire, was every business owner's dream daughter.

"Daddy says I have to use my own money to buy a new car if I want one," Regina said, pouting slightly. "Apparently, because this one is still running fine, if I want an upgrade I have to invest myself."

While Henry Mills could afford to buy his only daughter a thousand new cars, he was beginning to teach his entitled daughter the value of money. So when the eighteen-year-old had come to him earlier in the week and asked for a new car, he had provided her with two options; wait until the car genuinely needed replacing, or buy it using her own money.

"So is that what your errand is?" Zelena asked. "Car shopping?"

"I've got to go to the bank first," Regina said. "I have an appointment at four. The money's tied up in a trust Gramps set up for me before he died. There are conditions or something. I have to meet with the bank manager to explain why I want to access it. It might take a week or so to release the funds."

"That sounds terribly dull," Zelena drawled. "Can I come?"

Regina laughed. "Sure. Do you want to come in this old tin can or follow in your car?"

"I'll take my own hunk of junk home first, grab my outfit for tonight and then get Ma's driver to drop me off. You can drive us to the restaurant and club, right?" Regina nodded. "Which bank are you going to?"

"New York Gold Capital," Regina said.

"Just off 6th Avenue?"

Regina nodded. "55th Street."

"Awesome, see you there then," Zelena said, leaning in to kiss Regina on the cheek. "Later, babe."

Regina opened the door to her car as Zelena made her way around to her own ride. Seconds later, both high end sports cars roared to life. Pulling out of their spaces, first Regina then Zelena drove out of Storybrooke Prep School and merged into the busy traffic of Central Park West.


Dirty fingers picked at a loose thread of the inseam on the tight black jeans, rubbing the coarse string between her grimy pads. With her eyes focused on her hands, she realised how filthy her fingernails were. Scanning the floor where she sat, she picked up a slender twig and began to scrape the dirt from beneath her nails. She was only half listening to what her friend was saying. She knew the plan. The meeting was for everyone else's benefit.

"Any questions?" Neal asked when he had finished explaining.

Three heads shook no. It was simple enough. Genius, really, in its simplicity. A tiny voice wondered whether it was too simple; whether they had missed something. But whenever she had raised this concern, Neal assured her that it was fool-proof.

"Emma, you know what you're doing, right?"

The blonde looked up from her task, the fingernails on her right hand now somewhat cleaner. "What?"

"Were you even listening?" Neal asked, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Relax, I know the plan," Emma insisted. "Anyway, my part is the simplest."

"Yeah but it's also the most important. Don't fuck it up else we're all screwed."

"Whatever," Emma said, dropping her gaze to her left hand and continuing her task.

Neal hesitated but didn't push. He knew Emma had his back; that she wouldn't let them down. The other three, however, he was less sure about. While Neal and Emma had been living together for almost a year, Lily, Felix and Peter were new to the group. He had found Felix and Peter himself four months earlier, rescued them from the street where they had been selling themselves to scrape a living. Emma had run into Lily just a month before and recruited her to be the vital fifth member of their crew.

Homeless for seven years, Neal saw himself as something of a father figure for teens who had found themselves without a place to live. He had taken countless young people under his wing over the years but he and Emma had formed a close bond. There had been something different about the blonde sixteen-year-old which drew Neal to her that sunny afternoon almost one year ago. She had been sat at the top of a bridge in Central Park, panhandling and reading a copy of the New York Times simultaneously. When Neal had asked her a question about the President's latest nomination to the Supreme Court, the blonde had replied with such a succinct and accurate statement that Neal had stopped in his tracks. The two of them had spent the rest of the summer together and when winter came, their friendship developed further.

It was for warmth, he had assured her late one night when he invited Emma to share his sleeping bag. Only just seventeen at the time, Emma had been hesitant at first but the cold bite of the New York winter forced her to push aside her reservations and crawl into the snug, stuffy material. Neal had just held her for the first few nights but before long he pushed for more. After a half-hearted protest, Emma relented. She liked Neal well enough and he cared for her. The fact that she wasn't attracted to men seemed irrelevant when the man who rutted above her was also the man who had saved her life that first, harsh winter on the streets.

When spring and then summer came, their 'relationship' continued as they began to formulate their plan. They were a team; the two of them. And now, with their three other friends, the plan was ready to be put into action. Neal and Emma had recruited from the streets, taking the time to find homeless youths who could be trusted, who would do what was needed, who wanted to escape the life badly enough to take a risk. A risk which, if they succeeded, would pay off for all involved.

Emma trusted Neal with her life. He had saved her. He had been the family she had never had. Sixteen years in the foster system and a tramp was the first person to show her genuine kindness and affection. Emma was powerless to resist. And Neal was a good person, for the most part. He was a lot better than many homeless who wandered the park at night. He was a saint compared to the man Lily had fallen in with. Her new friend never disclosed the extent of what had happened to her to Emma but she could see the haunting pain behind her light brown eyes. If Neal wanted to have sex with Emma in exchange for protecting her, then she was willing to comply. At least he wasn't violent nor pimped her out.

A wad of black material hit Emma in the face and landed in her lap, jolting her from her reverie. She looked up and scowled at Neal who winked at her.

"Ok, is everyone clear on their role?" Neal asked for the umpteenth time.

Everyone nodded, including Emma.

"And you've all got your weapons?"

Four nods.

"Loaded?"

More nods.

"Ok, let's go then," he said, pushing himself to his feet.

The rest of his crew followed suit, brushing away the twigs and leaves which clung to their clothes as they did so. Emma slid final piece of her outfit into her pocket. They had several blocks to walk before thy needed to put them on. It wouldn't do any good to draw attention to themselves. The five of them stepped out from beneath the shadow of the tree and headed towards the edge of the park. When they reached Central Park South, Felix nodded once, his lanky blonde hair flopping across his eyes, and strolled purposefully in the opposite direction to the rest of the group to complete his task. The remaining four continued down 5th Avenue.

They walked in silence. Neal led, his stride confident. Emma was next, her hands stuffed deep into the pockets of the black overcoat she was wearing, fingers playing with the knitted material in her left pocket and cold hard metal in her right. Beads of sweat began to slide down her back. She wasn't sure if it was the inappropriate clothes for the season or the knowledge of what they were about to do.

A few steps behind Emma was Lily, her mouth set in a firm line. While she knew the dangers associated with what they were about to do, she didn't care. She didn't care about anything any more. Even Emma, the first person to show her kindness in two years, hadn't managed to crack through the walls she had built around her heart.

Peter brought up the rear, his dark eyes darting around the street. What he was looking for, no one knew. Ending up on the street at fifteen, Peter's youth had disappeared into the darkness which came with street walking. Three years later, his lanky frame was withered from persistent drug use and abusive clients. Neal had saved him, taken him away from that life but he would never be free of the memories.

Several blocks away, Felix was fiddling with the lock of a car door, wiggling it in just the right way until the mechanism clicked open.


Regina parked directly outside the building and shut off the car engine. Road paint marked the area as a loading bay but it didn't matter. Regina Mills didn't pay parking tickets and everyone in the city knew not to tow her car. Her father's friendship with the Police Commissioner was a powerful thing. She slid out of the low vehicle and stalked into the bank. It was close to the end of the day on Friday afternoon but there were a number of customers inside. Regina walked straight past the wall of tellers and up to the reception area at the back of the main room.

"Miss Mills," the small blonde said, standing up as soon as she saw her. "You're a little early. Mr Gold is still in with his previous appointment."

"No problem. I can wait," Regina said, pulling out her cell and checking her texts. Two waited for her; one from her mother and one from her father. "Can I get a coffee please?"

"Of course," the young blonde said, hurrying away to comply with the request at once.

Regina took a seat, elegantly crossed her legs and began replying to her parents. Yes, she was at the bank and yes, she was sure she wanted to spend her own money on a new car, she told her father. No, she wasn't going to be home for dinner, and yes, she did want her black Prada dress sent to the dry cleaners ahead of the charity ball she was expected to attend the following evening, she informed her mother.

By the time she had completed those tasks, a cup of coffee, made exactly as she liked it (black, one sugar) had appeared in front of her. She smiled her thanks at the blonde who responded with a bizarre move which could have been an attempt at a curtsey. Regina was used to people acting strangely around her. Her wealth made people nervous, she had realised at a young age. No one saw her as Regina. They saw her as Regina Mills, heiress to the Mills empire. Only Zelena treated her as a 'normal' person. But Zelena herself was, in theory, due to take over her own family's business. While Regina's family was wealthier than the Wests, compared to the majority of the population, they were the same; white, entitled, rich beyond belief.

Her cell vibrated. Zelena had been accosted by her mother and was going to be late so would meet her at the restaurant, the redhead wrote. Regina smirked. It was moments like these when she appreciated the freedom her parents afforded her. Her good grades and sensible attitude had led Regina to be trusted by her parents. True, neither Henry nor Cora Mills knew their eighteen-year-old daughter had a fake ID and went out clubbing every weekend but since she had never gotten into trouble and was always responsible, no harm was done.

Regina leaned back in the chair and sipped her coffee while she waited for her appointment. The blonde shot furtive looks at her every few seconds, as if worried Regina may protest at being made to wait. In reality, however, Regina was enjoying the peace and quiet. After a long week at school with final exams looming, she needed a few minutes of silence to allow her mind to wander.

It wandered, as it often did, to Danny. He was still waiting for her decision. It had been a week now. The freshman college student had asked Regina to make their relationship official the previous weekend but the brunette had hesitated. While they had been casually involved for a few months, Regina was still unsure. She liked Danny. He was smart and funny and charming and came from a good family. Her parents adored him. But Regina didn't feel that rush, that all-consuming desire which Hollywood and books talked about. She should wait for that, shouldn't she? For someone who made her heart beat out of her chest, made her body thrum with excitement and want. She was eighteen; she was young and beautiful and deserved true love. While she felt great affection for Danny, it wasn't love.

"Miss Mills," the receptionist said meekly. "Mr Gold will see you now."

Regina smiled and stood up, placing her empty coffee cup on the receptionist's desk and thanking her for the drink. The blonde blushed and gestured for Regina to make her way through to the manager's office. Somehow people always expected Regina to be stuck up and obnoxious but the brunette had been taught to respect and appreciate all those whom she came into contact with, unlike many members of the upper classes.

Through the dark wood double doors, Regina made her way down the plush carpeted corridor to meet Mr Gold. The office door was ajar but she knocked politely and waited for him to grant her entrance.

"Regina, my dear," Mr Gold said, standing up and hurrying around his desk to shake Regina's hand. The short man smiled at the young woman he had known for most of her life, remembering how the dark haired child had sat on her father's knee during his business meetings. And now she stood a little taller than himself, an adult in her own right.

"Robert, lovely to see you," Regina said, shaking the proffered hand before taking the seat Mr Gold pulled out for her. "How are you?"

"I'm very well thank you, and yourself?"

"Can't complain," Regina smiled. "And Milah, how is she?"

"Very well thank you. Your parents?"

"Perfect health," Regina replied.

"I'm very glad to hear that. Please send them both my regards."

"I will do."

"So, I suppose we should get started," Mr Gold said. "You want to discuss accessing some money your grandfather left you, correct?"

"Yes," Regina nodded. "I want to buy a new car and Daddy says I must use my own money."

"Well, let's take a look at the trust conditions and what we can do for you today. Do you have a model in mind? Our chauffeur just upgrade to the latest Rolls Royce and it's a real dream."

"Yes I know, Daddy has one. It's lovely but I like to drive myself. Rolls and Bentleys are ideal as passengers but I'd like something a little smaller which I can drive in the city. The new Aston caught my eye."

"You have excellent taste," Mr Gold said. "But will there be an issue with insuring such a vehicle at your tender age?"

Regina let out a light laugh. "Oh no, I have my ways. You know the Wests, owners of West Insurance?"

"Indeed," Mr Gold said. "A fine family."

"Well, their daughter is my best friend so I have no doubt I'll be able to get coverage."

"Very well," Mr Gold said. "Let's take a look at the conditions of the trust and I'll see what we can do to get you your wheels."


The alley reeked of urine. It always amazed the blonde that even in the richest areas of the city, the underbelly was present. Emma and Lily waited where they were told, backs pressed against the brick wall, hidden from view behind a dumpster. Neal leaned causally at the alley entrance, watching Peter who was walking down the sidewalk towards them. As he passed Neal, Peter nodded once and kept moving. At the signal Neal returned to the two girls and grinned.

"Ready?"

"Yeah," Lily nodded.

"As I'll ever be," Emma said.

Neal frowned. "Hey, sweetheart. This is going to be awesome. We're going to be rich beyond belief in just a few minutes."

He leaned down to kiss Emma lightly. The blonde didn't kiss him back. Her stomach was doing flips; the nerves had finally kicked. It was one thing to plan such a feat, it was quite another to carry it out.

"Ski masks on, hoods up," Neal instructed.

The girls obeyed. Emma's clammy skin stuck to the wool as she pulled the black material over her face before flicking up her hood. The effect was stifling but necessary. Their faces couldn't be visible on any surveillance cameras.

"Keep your heads down," Neal said. "And follow me."

One after another, the trio exited the alley, walking quickly down 5th Avenue with their eyes glued to the sidewalk. Emma kept her gaze trained on the back of Neal's sneakers while Lily watched the scuffed backs of Emma's pumps. Metres from their target, they passed a security guard, leaning against a wall smoking a cigarette and talking in Spanish to, Emma guessed from what she understood based on the snippet of conversation she overheard, his wife.

Buried deep in her hoodie pocket, Emma's fingers closed around the cold handle of the gun as their pace slowed. She heard a squeak as Neal push the door open, followed his heels inside and finally looked up. Beside her, Lily had already pulled her weapon. Quickly, Neal pushed the doors closed again and slotted a heavy metal hook through both handles, barricading them closed. Turning around, he pulled his own gun from the inside of his jacket.

"Everybody, down on the ground now and no one gets hurt!" Neal bellowed, the barrel of his assault rifle sweeping the room.

Flanked by Emma and Lily, the trio advanced into the grand space as patrons and bank tellers inside New York Gold Capital screamed and dropped, bodies trembling, to the floor.


A/N: Yeah, I started with a cliff hanger…