Author's Note: Written and set around 3x12 New York City Serenade and 3x13 Witch Hunt.


"Just collect some firewood." Regina glared at the sticks on the ground as she repeated Snow's words in a mock high-pitched voice. "It'll help them understand you're one of us now." She yanked at her skirt as it caught on a bush. "You'd think protecting them from flying monkeys would have proven that."

Muttering and wrinkling her nose Regina strode along the dirt forest path. A growing bundle of twigs and small logs freed themselves from the surrounding undergrowth and floated along behind her. She might have to collect firewood, but she was going to do it her way. There might be a price to all magic but she'd gladly pay whatever this one turned out to be rather than the price of not using it – sore hands, arms and back.

Alone in the quiet forest Regina found her thoughts rushing back to Henry. What was he doing? Was he eating enough? Was he warm enough? Did he like New York? How many friends did he have? Was he happy? Regina fought against the tears that came all too quickly these days. Maybe she should take this second chance at burying her heart. It would be hard to help protect everyone with she was this prone to tears.

She let out a big sigh and rounded a bend in the path. The cleared dirt now lead down towards a stream. It was a beautiful. Dark green, restful and comforting with sunlight poking through the leaves here and there. The cool scent of the forest drew a tiny smile from her lips. It reminded her of when she was young and she would ride out into the forest's arms, escaping her mother and the stifling atmosphere of the castle. A light breeze blew against her face, nudging at her hair as though it would like nothing more than to pull it from it's pins. The stream splashed over rocks and invited her forward. Regina decided a small rest by the water wouldn't hurt and looked about for a nice big clean rock.

As she pushed past the last tree she discovered the stream wasn't the only thing splashing. Tucked a little off to the side stood a very wet outlaw. Robin ducked into the stream and pulled up a handful of sandy dirt, scrubbing it over his arms and chest before dipping into the water again to wash it off. Regina froze unable to wrench her eyes away. The stream rushed low around his hips. She let her eyes drift over him. 'Let', she could hardly stop them. Her lower lip caught between her teeth as she took in his strong chest, and shoulders, and arms, and… Regina's eyes flew wide, her mouth opening into a shocked 'o'. The bundle of wood crashed to the ground behind her.

There, on his forearm, was the tattoo she'd seen so long ago. Try as she might, she couldn't forget it and it had entered her dreams unbidden many times since that night. Regina was held in trance. She wanted to run. Needed to run. Why wouldn't her feet obey!

"See something you want, your highness?"
Regina's eyes flew from his arm to his face. Robin stood straight, hands on his hips, mouth lifted into a smirk.

"What?" Regina's voice came in a thin whisper. She blinked, and released from her marble state, she found her voice returned to her. "No. Yes. NO! I don't… Excuse me." She spun around and strode regally back along the path. As soon as she was safely out of his sight she let herself fall against a large tree.

Her hands alternated between clenching into her skirt and smoothing across her stomach as she tried to make sense of what she'd seen. He couldn't… it couldn't be him. It was impossible. How could she? An outlaw? A dirty, trees as his roof, outlaw? She heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like Tink push it's way into her mind. Not that dirty – he was just taking a bath! And you did go for a stable boy originally. Regina frowned.

At least there was one stroke of luck. Tinkerbell wasn't with them. She could do without the overjoyed green glitter fireworks she'd be throwing off the tree tops by now. Regina flung a glare towards the imaginary Tinkerbell. Well, she couldn't return to the camp empty handed, that much was true. She pushed away from the tree and hurriedly set about collecting a new pile of firewood as she tried to decide what to do or not do.