She pulled her long black hair into a ponytail at the back of her head, freeing her face from any intruding hair. The black spandex bottoms she wore stuck to her like a second skin, and the belt she carried on her waist gave her the tools necessary to complete the mission. Stepping outside of her house, into the cold night, Regina ventured to the house of one Emma Swan. Once she got there, she noticed that not a single light was on, which meant either Emma was not at home, or she was sleeping.

Regina pulled two long pins from her hair and inserted them into the lock. Her fingers worked carefully, gliding and bending in every which way, as they solved yet another puzzle. Her success was signaled by a click, and she gingerly turned the knob. Stepping in, Regina pulled her flashlight from the belt and looked around the somber maze of a house. She then proceeded up the stairs, careful not to make a sound.

Her heart thumped a staccato beat in her chest, and she felt her blood pressure raise, plasma and oxygen and blood cells raced through her veins and arteries. Surely this can't be healthy?

She heard a faint snore on the other side of the first door she encountered and knew it was Emma's.

'This is it,' she thought 'I am finally getting rid of the only weakness in my life.'

As she stepped inside, the undeniable smell of Emma engulfed her. All sweat and bravery and woman. It excited her nerve endings and made her mind wander upon paths decorated with flowers and apple trees and love and joy. Paths that she is certain she doesn't have the ability to return from. She closed her eyes, and allowed herself to feel. Really feel.

She felt the cold wind on her face coming through the window. She felt the small bumps rise on her arm as her thoughts led to scenarios of Emma and her, getting married, adopting, having a picnic, running along the beach...
She felt the hair at the back of her neck stand up on end as her brain sang songs completely comprising of 'Emma'. Emma emma emma, again and again, over and over like a mantra.

She must die.

She carefully, oh so carefully (as if her life depended on it) extracted the knife from her belt. She crept towards the bed and stood next to Emma, ready to increase in strength.

But then she heard it.

"Regina," It came out, low and breathy, a moan, evidence that the blonde was still very much was asleep.
And again, "Regina."

It hit her: Emma was dreaming about her. Actually dreaming about her. Emma's voice was faint and sweet and it seeped into the deepest part of her brain. It was enough to make all of Regina's tough exterior wither away. Even as a rush of heat fled southward and Emma's sleepy hand dragged itself down and down, Regina knew she was not going to kill Emma tonight. So she simply watched, wide eyed and in awe of the woman she easily became so smitten with, fellow assassin, Emma Swan.

It suddenly dawned on her that the sun was about to come up, and she should leave.

She put the knife back into her belt, and left.

"What do you mean you couldn't do it?" the man's voice was seemingly calm, but she knew better. It was dripping venom and if that wasn't enough, his eyes were deep with malice. Deep enough to make her cower in fear.

She took a deep breath "Robin-"

"YOU DO NOT GET TO CALL ME THAT"

"Sorry, um Sir Locksley..Hood?"

"That's more like it," He nodded and gave her a mocking smile, "now these relations with Emma have been going on for far too long, anybody who has a pair of eyes can see that you have feelings for her. Either you take care of it or I will."

"NO!" she shouted, more frantic than ever, "no. I will do it. I have to slay my own demons... and swans."

"Good then," he said, voice thick and accented, God she hated his accent, "you have three days. Now get out of my office."

"What?!" She shouted, demanding more from this unforgiving, heartless man. But as another large man lifted her up, and escorted her out of the grey room, she knew no number of kicks would suffice, would not change the situation.

"Boss says you have to see White for your new job asap." said the large man, turning his back.

*
"Well well, Emma Swan." said Robin.

"You summoned?" Emma said, her jaw set in a hard line and eyes narrowed at him.

"I know you have feelings for a coworker."

Emma visibly deflated in front of him, and he knew he was right. Oh this is going to be fun. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play coy Emma."

"Honestly, I don't have time for this." she began walking away. But stopped in her tracks as she heard a click next to her which she later found out was a gun, preparing to shoot.

"Fine. What do you want me to do?" But she knew already, and her heart shriveled up, and her eyes avoided contact with their own. She fiddled with her fingertips and hoped and prayed to deities that this time it would be different. Maybe, just maybe, Hood would have heart.

"You know the protocol Swan."

She sighed, "I have to kill Regina."

The sun slowly dragged itself down below the horizon, creating a plethora of colours. Oranges and reds and yellows on the earth's muse, perfectly juxtaposed with Emma's mood.

Her face plastered with sorrow and distress, and body clad in nothing but the scars from her past encounters, Emma chose her outfit for the night.

When she settled on her favourite black vest and comfortable jeans, she planned her method.

Knife or gun or strangling, so many to choose from. So many awful options to end her only means of downfall.

At 8:00pm she left. Having travelled the same road hundreds of times before, visiting her partner in crime to plan out strategies and share tips and maybe a glass of wine or two, this was second nature to her.

Emma arrived at the house, which was surprisingly dark. She walked around back, and strolled casually through the unlocked door. 'Rookie mistake,' she thought.

She positioned herself in the chair close to the front door, so as soon as Regina arrived, she would get it over with. No theatrics, no pain, as soft and sweet and intimate as death could be.

Emma put on her brave face and puffed up her chest, no weakness evident on her exterior. This, of course, disappeared as her sorrow heightened, and she truly let the reality of what was about to happen slap her in the face. She hung her head, absorbing every bit of shame her body would allow and tears wet her cheeks. The façade fell, and faded into background.

She was deathly aware of the house's darkness. It was everywhere, it engulfed her; stuck to her. She knew nothing else, felt nothing else but the blackness of the atmosphere and Regina's absence, how it will soon be permanent.

A click by the door heralded Regina's arrival and broke Emma out of her thoughts. Freeing her glock 27 from her waist Emma raised it to eye level as she had learned so many years ago. She pointed it at the door.

Regina opened the door, but still remained invisible, a gun of her own in hand. She knew somebody was there. Slowly she turned the lights on and jumped inside, ready to shoot.

"EMMA WHAT THE HELL?" shouted Regina, lowering her gun.