Disclaimer: This tale of misadventure is just for fun, not profit. The characters of Once Upon a Time belong to the powers that be at ABC and definitely not me - otherwise SwanQueen would be canon by now.

Author's note: The Boondocks is an American expression referring to a remote or rural area.

Thanks: As always, to everyone for reading. You rock.

The Boondock Bride

by

Vivalab

The sleek Mercedes Benz cruised along the quiet road at a steady pace as the foot encased in an expensive black heel eased gently back and forth on the gas pedal with a rhythmic, repetitive motion.

Regina Mills reflexively checked her rear view mirror as she reached across the console to retrieve the bottle of water from the bag resting on the passenger seat. With practised ease, she balanced the bottle against the steering wheel and carefully unscrewed the cap without taking her eyes off the road. Bringing the bottle to rest against red-painted lips, she winced as the first sip of tepid liquid touched her tongue, but repeated the motion a few more times before lowering it and carefully replacing the cap.

As she carelessly tossed the bottle back on the empty leather seat, her cell phone beeped ominously from its mount on the dashboard.

Deep brown eyes hidden by over-sized designer sunglasses glanced over at the display catching the 'no signal' notification before it disappeared from the screen, revealing the frozen map.

With a sigh, she leaned her elbow on the open window and raised her hand to her head. Restless fingers began toying with loose strands of shoulder length dark hair as she settled in for the long drive home.

The trip to Boston from her hometown in Storybrooke, Maine, had taken just over four hours on the I-95, but now she was painfully aware that her decision to try and beat the tailbacks by taking a different route, due to three serious road accidents, might have been a mistake. Except Regina Mills never made mistakes. Or at least, admitted to them.

She had been driving along the I-93 for almost two hours, not-so-patiently waiting for the exit sign to New Hampton. And now that she had no cell reception and no map to guide her, she realized the chances of getting home before dark were slim to none.

Her eyes panned across to the tall trees on either side of the empty road and a sinking feeling settled in her stomach. The road was quiet. Too quiet.

Not one to scare easily, she pressed her foot to the pedal a little harder, embracing the purr her beloved Benz made as it pushed on effortlessly.

The late afternoon sun sitting high above the trees offered small comfort as she reached up and removed the sunglasses, blinking a few times to adjust to the change in light. She glanced in her rear view mirror as she threw them next to the water bottle and froze.

A car was coming up behind her.

Fast.

Regina looked out at the road ahead and considered her options – speed up or stay the course?

Her inner fight or flight in unfamiliar territory screamed flight. She had others to think about after all.

She lifted her eyes to the mirror again, her heart thumping faster with anticipation as she realized how much ground the speeding vehicle had already gained.

And then she paused and looked again.

And laughed.

It was a Volkswagen Beetle. An old one. In a hideous shade of canary yellow. And, yes, squinting a little against the sun, she could see that the driver was a woman.

Regina eased her foot off the gas, feeling the tingle of tension disappear as quickly as it had come. Her eyes drifting back and forth between the open road in front and the speeding ball of yellow about to pass her. She fixed her gaze forward and waited.

And waited.

After almost two minutes of waiting for the woman to pass she glanced in the mirror and frowned. The car was no longer speeding or trying to pass, it was now moving at the same speed as hers and a bit too close for comfort. Regina sped up a little, watching the woman behind her and sure enough, she picked up the pace too.

Perplexed, the dark haired woman shifted her gaze to the cell phone on the dash, but the map remained frozen on the screen - still no signal.

In a bold move she tapped her brakes, watching the woman in the mirror react instantly to the unexpected action by slamming on her own, causing her to jerk forward over the steering wheel.

Regina sped up once again, deciding to focus on getting home and just ignore the woman behind her. Probably just a local from the Boondocks getting her kicks on a Saturday afternoon anyway, she reasoned.

Suddenly, a streak of yellow caught her eye and she glanced to her left.

"Crazy bitch!"

Regina's jaw dropped in surprise as the woman with wild, long blonde hair, yelled and flipped her off as she passed.

Watching the car gather speed and disappear from view, she shook her head. "Bitch, yes. Crazy?" she huffed indignantly. "Absolutely not."

After almost thirty minutes, and no further road incidents, Regina's cell phone pinged optimistically. She pulled in to the side of the road and parked. She reached for the phone and sighed, she had indeed missed the exit, but was apparently still on the I-93 approaching Lincoln.

She composed a quick text explaining she was going to be late, didn't know how long she would be, but would send a message once she was closer to home. Without waiting for a reply, she brought the map back up and looked at her options. After a long swallow from the lukewarm water she gave herself a small, fortifying shake and pulled back out on to the road.

Now that her GPS was working Regina's confidence about getting home within a couple of hours was growing. She found the turn road easily and was only a few miles from the interstate when she spotted it.

The hideous yellow Volkswagen Beetle.

The car was parked at the side of the road and appeared to be empty.

She slowed her speed as she approached, trying to get a better look inside, wondering where the foul-mouthed female driver had gone. As her gaze shifted back to the road her eyes immediately widened in horror as she slammed both feet on the brake pedal reflexively.

The woman stood in the middle of the lane, eyes screwed tightly shut and arms outstretched as if bracing for impact.

Temper flared in the brunette as the car screeched to a halt a few feet from the blonde. The heady stench of rubber burning against asphalt invaded her nostrils as she threw open the door and strode angrily towards her. "What the Hell do you think you're doing?" she roared.

The blonde cracked open an eye and blew out a shaky breath, smiling at the approaching, angry brunette. "Hi," she answered, with a small wave.

Regina stopped directly in front of her, rage rolling off her in waves. She faltered though as she took in her appearance, noticing for the first time exactly what the young woman was wearing. Instead of the tirade of abuse she was prepared to unleash, she found herself looking her up and down, her expression one of complete incredulity.

"Is that a wedding dress?"

The blonde woman smirked. "No fooling you," she replied sarcastically.

Regina folded her arms across her chest, forgetting she wasn't wearing her blazer and feeling the not-so-crisp white shirt stick to her overheated lower back. They glared at each other for a long minute, neither speaking.

The silence grew heavier and after a small internal debate, Regina shook her head and turned to walk away.

"Wait!"

Regina ignored the plea and continued walking. As she reached her abandoned car, a lace covered arm suddenly slammed the open driver's door closed. She spun instantly, the embers of rage rekindling rapidly.

The blonde woman raised her arms in surrender and took a defensive step back. "I'm sorry," she said honestly. "Please. I need your help."

"Really? You need help from this…" she paused, tilting her head reflectively. "…crazy bitch?"

The blonde winced as her own words were thrown back at her, watching her chances of help slipping away. She shook her head. "I'm sorry," she repeated, not knowing what else to say.

Regina took in her appearance once more and after an agonizing few seconds, bobbed her head. "Let me get my car off the road."

As she turned to open the door slender fingers reached out and touched her wrist gently, halting her movement. "You're not going to leave are you?"

The brunette looked down at the hand on her arm, sensing the need for reassurance. "No." And even she didn't know why she just said that so readily.

"That dress is hideous."

The blonde feigned shock and then snickered. "I know."

They stood facing each other at the side of the road, Regina's Benz now parked in front of the Beetle. The early evening air filled with awkwardness as both women regarded the other in contemplative silence.

Regina cleared her throat. "I'm Regina," she said, offering her hand.

The other woman shook it with a firm shake. "Emma."

The brunette tilted her head and studied her thoughtfully. "You said you needed help?"

Emma laughed. "Oh my God. Understatement of the decade," she replied, pulling the high collar of the wedding dress away from her clammy neck. "Long story short, I was at a wedding and then I wasn't and now the Bug is out of gas."

She looked pleadingly at the brunette before adding nervously. "I was hoping you could um…" she hesitated before continuing. "…give me a ride?"

"To a gas station?"

Emma shrugged. "To anywhere that isn't here."

Regina stared at her, wondering what the long version of that cliff note story was. She shook her head apologetically. "I'm sorry, I'm heading home to Maine, I can't detour any more than I already have," she said, shocking herself at the sincerity in her tone.

Emma beamed back at the brunette, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "Maine sounds great!"

"Don't you live around here?" Regina asked in confusion.

The blonde waved her off. "Not anymore," she replied cryptically.

"How do I know you're not a serial killer?"

Emma laughed again. "How do I know you're not?" she countered.

Regina leaned forward slightly, holding her gaze as she whispered. "You don't."

The blonde's laughter died on her lips as she eyed the other woman carefully, taking in her slender form in tailored pants and designer heels. After a thorough perusal she decided this was most definitely a bluff. Her inbuilt lie detector never let her down. Well, almost never.

"Do you have any bags or is it just the bridal wear?" Regina asked, eager to get on the road again.

Emma nodded, indicating her car. "I have some baggage."

"Don't we all," the dark haired woman mused quietly as she walked to the rear of her Benz and popped the trunk. Emma took this as a subtle hint for her to retrieve her belongings and quickly ran to the Bug.

As Emma carried the suitcase and holdall over to the car Regina caught sight of scarlet-painted toes, noticing the bare feet for the first time. "No shoes?"

The blonde closed the trunk on the Mercedes carefully and grinned. "Left them at the altar along with my dignity."

Regina wondered what that meant, but let it go as she rounded the car and slid into the driver's seat. She watched as Emma stood awkwardly at the open passenger door, looking down at the bag and sunglasses. The dark haired woman picked them up and tossed them into the back, carefully avoiding hitting the large, wrapped package tucked into the corner. "I have some water if you're thirsty?"

Emma sat down and buckled up. "Got anything stronger?" She asked hopefully.

Regina smiled at the comment unsure if the blonde was being serious or not as she reached into the bag and retrieved the bottle. "I only had a few sips and it's a bit warm," she explained as she passed it over.

"That's okay," Emma replied, unscrewing the cap and noticing the faint red smudges around the edges. She lifted it to her lips, discreetly giving Regina some side-eye as she noted the matching shade on the brunette's mouth before quickly draining the contents.

The brunette checked for traffic in her rear view mirror and frowned as she remembered the obvious. "What about your car?"

The blonde played with the lid of the empty bottle and shook her head. "I've had the Bug since I was 18, it's a survivor," she answered absently, before lifting her head and looking out the passenger window. 'Just like me,' she thought to herself.

She turned back towards Regina and smiled. "Don't worry about it, I'll have someone pick her up once we get to Maine."

"You can use my phone to call someone now, if you like."

Emma dismissed the offer with a casual shrug. "Trust me. Nobody's going to touch the Bug," she said with an air of finality.

Sensing the conversation was over, Regina checked the empty road once more before pulling out, wondering what on earth she'd got herself in to.

Thanks for reading.