A/N: Hello my darlings. I am so overwhelmed by all the love for this story already. I appreciate every word in reviews and comments. I also love to hear your theories and guesses on what's up.

Remember, this story features Present Day in chronological order and Flash Backs in whatever order I deem necessary to move the story along. Do you like this format?

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Hope you like this. Let me hear from you.


Regina sat at her desk in her study and wondered if it was too early to drink. She glanced at the mantle clock. Two in the afternoon. Definitely too early. But today, she'd make an exception.

She'd left the loft about an hour ago with a plan in place and had come home to work on her agenda. Snow was sounding a call for everyone who could or would to gather at Town Hall at five. Then, presenting a united front, the reigning royals—Snow, Charming and Regina—would convene a meeting.

Regina poured a respectable amount of her cider into a tumbler and went back to her desk. Her computer screen still held the meeting agenda but her mind was elsewhere. She had a hard time thinking of anything but Caroline.

It was silly, really. There was nothing special about the child. She was just a baby. A crying little bottomless pit that needed constant supervision and care. Regina rolled her eyes at her own assessment. Even she recognized that she was trying to distance herself from the baby. Yet, something in her yearned to hold her. It was unsettling.

She took a sip of her drink, feeling the warm burn of the amber liquid in her throat. This was a particularly good vintage. She sat the glass aside and focused on the screen. She needed to be ready for this meeting. It could be the most important one of her life.

Meeting Agenda:

5:00 to 5:15 pm—Citizens arrive and are allowed time to mingle.

5:15 pm—Snow White will call the meeting to order. She will welcome the people and in general set them at ease. She will then give a brief outline of the agenda and turn it over to David.

5:25 pm—Charming will then address any needs. 1) Did new people come over this time and do they have proper housing, etc? All such concerns report to the 2nd Floor conference room at the close of the meeting. 2) Any missing persons should be reported immediately following the meeting to a deputy in Room A at the end of the hall. 3) Any other concerns he thinks of.

5:45 pm (approximately)—Regina will be given the floor. She will ask if anyone has any ideas on who may have cast the curse and why. She will ask all citizens to search their homes and belongings for any clues or anything out of the ordinary. And at the close of her portion she will announce her intention to go to New York in search of the Savior.

6:00 pm (approximately)—The floor will be opened to citizen comments that will be fielded by Snow first, David second and Regina if she is asked directly.

Regina stared at the words. She'd not been the mayor in some time as the people didn't trust her once they got their memories back from her first curse. It was important that they see her and the two idiots working together. That would make them less likely to accuse her of casting this curse.

They still would. Probably beginning with the angry dwarf and trickling down until the smallest child joined in. But with Snow there, it was unlikely anyone would bring a mob to her front door later tonight. It was simple on paper, but Regina knew this meeting would be chaos in the worst way.

It made her feel nauseous just thinking about it. No matter how she had tried to change, she would always be the villain. Always the enemy. But a part of her understood the reluctance to trust. She had, after all, been a holy terror for decades. Still, she hoped having Snow White on her side would help.

She read again the last few lines. She was going to New York. She was going to find her son and Emma and bring them home.

Home.

She sighed and sipped again at her cider. Before she could do that, though, she had to figure out some way to help them regain their memories. No way would they just come here with her otherwise. She had given Emma her own memories of raising Henry and with that she knew came her overprotective nature. Henry's other mother would already have given her life to protect him but coupled now with Regina's same commitment to do that… well, there was no way she was getting near them unless they remembered.

True love can break any curse…

The words floated through her mind but she shook them away. She and Emma had made real progress toward friendship and sure, there was something else going on before they said goodbye at the town line, but one misguided night together did not equal true love.

Regina wasn't sure that such a thing even existed for her.

She emptied the tumbler in one giant gulp, glad for the burning that made her forget about true love and Emma for a moment. She glanced at the clock on the mantle again. Two thirty. She had time for a hot shower before the meeting.

Who knows how long it had been since she'd enjoyed modern amenities like indoor plumbing.

~ (SQ) ~

A year ago… the Enchanted Forest…

Home.

Regina curled a lip in disdain. This place was no longer her home. Her home was with Henry.

And Emma…

Nausea swept over her and she put a hand to her mouth. She may have been just being a bitch when she asked why she was sick instead of the very pregnant Aurora, but now the sickness felt real. This was no time to be coming down with a stomach flu.

"Are you ok?" Snow was beside her, looking worried.

They had been walking for a while through the forest, trying to get to the safety and shelter of Regina's castle before nightfall. Even after all this time, she still felt the need to provide for her subjects. They had never loved her, never respected her… but she had always provided for them.

And ruled with a bloody fist, Regina. Don't forget. They have reason to hate you.

"I'm fine. Just tired of walking. I wish you'd—"

Snow held up a hand. "No. No magic until we can assess what we are facing here. Besides, you couldn't safely poof this many people. You said so yourself. So…. we walk."

Regina rolled her eyes. She knew the brunette was right but that didn't mean she had to be happy about it. Why were her clothes here so impractical? She loved heels and the way they made her calves look in her pencil skirts… but these long gowns and heeled boots were not made for traipsing through the woods. She looked around her. Snow was dressed similarly without complaint.

But that was just her way, wasn't it? She never made a fuss. She just kept spewing hope and happy endings like some rainbow and glitter word vomit. She always—

Suddenly, everything Regina had ever eaten—ever—made an appearance on the side of the path. The nausea was overwhelming. She felt all eyes on her as everything and everyone stopped to gawk. She tried to stop it but it was pointless. She was puking from all the way down to her toes in uncomfortable boots.

She braced herself on a tree trunk with one hand and remained doubled over, afraid to right herself, afraid she might throw up again. The sour acidic smell of vomit made her cringe. She wasn't a good sick person under the best of circumstances, but she certainly wasn't now, hunched over the side of a dirt road, walking in a ball gown, an awkward up-do threatening to fall.

"Regina!" Snow was by her side. Of course she was. "Are you alright?"

"Do I look alright, princess?" Regina bit back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Snow reached out to comfort her, but Regina pulled away. She was not about to be babied by Snow White. She was sick but she wasn't weak. And she couldn't let anyone think that. Especially not now. Here, in this realm, she was the queen.

They may have stripped her of power as mayor, but here… here she was still the reigning monarch on the throne. The last thing she wanted was people to see here as weak and Snow as her champion. No. That wouldn't do.

Snow frowned at Regina's rejection. "You don't have to be strong all the time, you know. We may not be in Storybrooke anymore but we all still remember it. It was like forty-five minutes ago."

Regina stood up straighter—always, always so straight like Mother taught her—and smoothed down her dress. She pretended not to notice the sick splattered at the hemline. "That may be, but I am fine and I do not need you or anyone else to play nursemaid to me."

Regina walked on ahead, leaving the other woman behind. Snow watched her go. How was it that this was the second time she had seen Regina throw up in as many weeks? What was wrong with her? She'd keep an eye on her whether she liked it or not.

Regina arched a brow and breezed past her subjects. She couldn't be embarrassed. She couldn't let them see. So… she puked. So what? She sighed. One thing she would miss about Storybrooke, (One thing? You mean, besides your son and… her?) was indoor plumbing. Perhaps she should be glad this virus was only making her throw up and not...

She giggled to herself at the thought. She was a queen and a bit more refined. Such things shouldn't be humorous. But Emma would've laughed.

Emma…

Regina frowned again. The nausea returned for a different reason now. Oh, how she missed them already.

~ (SQ) ~

Present day Storybrooke…

Regina slipped into her bedroom and began unbuttoning her blouse. She eyed her unmade bed and frowned. She couldn't stand an unmade bed, even in the old world. She had been in such a rush to get to the loft this morning, she had just run out and left it.

Now, blouse hanging open and barefoot, she walked over and started straightening the sheets. She had been making this bed for nearly three decades. Even after her magic returned, she had made it herself every morning. There was something comforting in the simple action that appealed to her.

She slipped around to the other side of the large bed and pulled the sheets tight there, smoothing and fluffing the other pillow. Her fingers stilled on it. No one, save only Henry when a storm or bump in the night frightened him when he was smaller, no one else had ever spent the night in this bed with her.

Graham had been here many times for her own selfish pleasure. Thinking of him made her feel ashamed. He didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve… She shook her head. No sense thinking about that now.

He'd been in her bed many nights but he had never been allowed to stay. She'd always sent him on his way, shoes in hand, as he slipped away without waking Henry. She didn't want an overnight guest. She had wanted satisfaction. Most times she got it, even if it was hollow… empty. Just like her bed every night. Empty.

Just her, in the too big bed, barely making a bump under the plush comforter. No one ever stayed the night. It was a throwback to her time as the adoring wife of King Leopold. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, closing her blouse on reflex at the memory of him. He never stayed the night with her either.

No, he was in and out and on his way, a pleased smile on his face. Perhaps she had learned to take what she wanted in bed from him. Don't be kind. Just take and then, sleep alone. That's how it had always been. No one ever stayed the night.

She did.

Why was she suddenly so emotional about her anyway? It wasn't like they were in a relationship before. More than friends but not lovers… not together. It was one time. One night.

One night that became one morning. She'd never woken up in her lover's arms before. Not in all these years. But she had stayed.

Regina abruptly finished making the bed. Maybe she was thinking about her so much because she had to see her again soon. She had to bring her home. And Henry. They were coming home soon. And she was nervous and afraid and overwhelmed and that was why she was thinking of her and that night and…

True love is magic…

"God dammit, Regina. Stop it." She spoke into the empty room, and dropped her blouse on the floor. She made quick work of undressing and slipped into her bathroom. A hot shower was just what she needed.

~ (SQ) ~

On the Jolly Roger… somewhere near Neverland…

"Are you alright?" Snow was by her side. Of course she was.

"Do I look alright, princess?" Regina barked at her. She was in no mood to be coddled by the other woman.

"Jesus, Regina. Cut her some slack." Emma stepped in between the two women. They'd all been playing nice since Emma took a dive into the sea to get their attention. "She's just worried about you. You've been puking for like ten minutes straight."

Regina braced herself on one hand and wiped her mouth with the back of the other. It was true. This wasn't the first time she had thrown up on this trip. "It's just seasickness. I'm fine."

She stood up straight—always so straight, like Mother taught her—and walked toward the front of the ship, hoping the cool wind there would help her. She wasn't certain it was seasickness but that was what she was going to blame it on. No one needed to know it was more likely her fear and heartache over what lay ahead of them.

She just needed a minute alone, away from their prying eyes. How much longer were they going to be on this damn ship? She needed to do something. Waiting was killing her.

"Hey." Emma's voice was close by.

"Hey." She said, not bothering to turn around.

"Are you… are you sure you are ok? That's the second time you've thrown up since we left Storybrooke." The blonde sidled up next to her and leaned into the wind, taking in a big gulp of air. To her credit, she didn't look at Regina as she spoke. Somehow she always understood. She seemed to know without being told that the brunette wasn't up to direct confrontation, nose to nose, toe to toe. Not right now.

"It's seasickness. I've…" Regina blew air out through her nose with more irritation than she actually felt. "I've never been on a ship before, ok? I spent most of my life a prisoner in some way or other and, other than a boat on a lake for small journeys, I've always traveled by land. I'll get used to it. Give me time."

Emma nodded but made no move to leave her position, hunched over, elbows on the rail. "I think it's more than that… but I am willing to give you time for that too." She looked at the woman in a mirrored position beside her. "He's gonna be ok. You know that, right? We are going to find him and take him home."

Regina glanced at her quickly and then back at the sea. "I know. I just… I feel…" Tears filled her eyes and she was afraid she might throw up again.

Emma nudged her gently with her shoulder. "Hey. No crying. We have to be all bad ass and shit so we can fight Peter—fucking—Pan." She laughed. "Is this really our lives now? Fighting Peter Pan?"

A smile threatened to form on Regina's face and she tried to stifle it. "Really, Miss Swan. Such language."

"I'm pretty sure I've heard you say fuck a few times, Regina." Emma gazed at the brunette now, the full moon casting a silver halo about her golden curls.

Regina blushed, remembering when she'd said it. "I thought we'd agreed not to speak of that again."

"You agreed. We've been sorta busy since then so we haven't really had time to talk about it. What with Greg and Tamara and…" Her voice trailed off.

"And your mother tricking me into murdering my mother? Or perhaps you were going to say you falsely accusing me of murder." Regina felt anger bubbling beneath the surface.

Emma sighed and stood up straighter. "I guess so. No point then, huh? It doesn't matter?"

"Nope." Regina said, looking out at the water with determination.

The sound of Emma's boots marching away reverberated inside Regina's heart. Why did it matter? It shouldn't. It couldn't.

"You know," Emma called from behind her. "For what it's worth, it could matter."

And then… she was gone. Regina wiped her eyes. This was no time for romantic entanglements. She didn't love Emma. Emma didn't love her. But they both loved their son and that was the only thing that mattered right now. Bringing him home.

~ (SQ) ~

Present day…

The room was full of steam. Every surface was beginning to collect condensation, but she didn't care. The hot water running over her body was taking with it her stress, her worries, her fears. When the fog lifted and she was back in her clothes and headed to Town Hall, perhaps that wouldn't be the case. But for now, in this mist filled room, the only sound was the pounding of water against tile and skin, she was free of the weight.

She reached for her shampoo, right where she had left it yesterday… or two years ago, depending on how you looked at it. She opened the top and sniffed. It was a smell she had come to love. There was nothing like it in the other world.

She scrubbed her scalp methodically and rinsed. Once more, shampoo and scrub… rinse. She reached for the conditioner and repeated the action. Though she could remember doing this just yesterday, she knew it had been a long time in reality. Maybe her body remembered even if her mind did not because she felt herself relaxing at every pass of her hand through black silk strands.

She reached for her shower gel and loofah. Where was it? She looked all around her as it she could overlook it in this enclosed space. The loofah was missing. So the curse hadn't put everything back like it had been. She shrugged and squirted the gel into her hand. This would have to do for now.

She smoothed her hands across the water-slicked planes of her body. This wasn't the first time she'd done that with less than innocent intentions. She smirked thinking of it. No one knew her own body like she did. This wasn't the time for simple pleasures but the thought did cross her mind as she slathered suds over sensitive breasts. They seemed… more tender than usual to her and swollen.

She shrugged. They were probably just glad to be back in a bra and free of corsets and bindings and all the torture of Enchanted Forest fashion for queens. Who ever thought those were a good idea? Of course, her breasts pressed up and out, the main attraction in nearly everything she wore, had been one of her strongest allies in dealing with kings and princes and even the odd sorceress here and there.

She had known how to play to her strengths then as now. But at least this world's power plays could be made in power suits and silk blouses without high collars, high hair and heeled boots. She did miss the leather though. She looked good in leather.

Her hands continued to smooth over her skin though the soap had long rinsed away in the water cascading across her flesh. She was reddening in the heat of it but she didn't care. She reached for the shower gel again, the fragrance filling the air.

Once more, her hands moved along her body, slower now, feeling every dip and curve. If the heat and steam had given her a break from the weight of what lie ahead, she was sure the rush of endorphins from an orgasm would dispel them for far longer. Images of that night filled her mind against her better judgement.

How had they ended up like that? And how had it so quickly changed back to anger and mistrust?

No.

That wasn't what she wanted to think about now. She wanted to remember how she sounded. She'd been quieter than Regina had expected but it was endearing the way she tried to stifle her pleasure. She had encouraged her to let go, to make as much noise as she wanted… but still, until the end, she had bit her lip in a way that made Regina's heart race, trying to be quiet in the darkness.

Regina closed her eyes and let the hot water wash over her, remembering still. Her hands smoothed carefully now across her breasts. How she had worshipped them that night. She was gentler than Regina had expected. It was almost like it meant something to her.

Regina let her hands travel lower, across her abdomen and toward the patch of dark curls at the apex of her thighs. She had kissed her there too. So soft, so tender. It had made her come undone so quickly she was ashamed. No one had ever made her feel so free, so beautiful, so—

Regina stilled her hands and opened her eyes. Carefully she traced her fingers across her stomach again.

"What the hell?" She shut off the water and stepped carefully out on the mat, her day dream forgotten.

Dripping wet, she walked into her bedroom and to the full length mirror by her dressing table. She stepped as close as she could and began to examine the place that her fingers had been tracing. She wasn't imagining things.

There, just above her secret place, was a long, thin scar. The pinkish line was a tiny ridge cutting across her otherwise flawless olive skin. She traced it carefully. It was slightly uneven, and one end raised higher than the other, but no doubt this was a deep cut. But why? Who would…

Chocolate eyes drifted to the left and right of the scar. There she saw more markings in her flesh. Spidery white lines reaching out from her center. Stretch marks. She didn't need anyone to tell her what they were. She'd seen them that night, had kissed them, overcome with emotion at the sight of them, though they were much harder to discern on porcelain flesh. Henry had caused them.

What… no, who had caused these.

Regina shook as one word filled every inch of her being.

Caroline.

She waved a hand across the mirror and the loft appeared. She could see Snow, standing over the crib, her pinky finger in the baby's tiny mouth. She was trying to copy Regina's trick to help her sleep but it wasn't working. The baby was still restless. She was whimpering and whining and fighting sleep.

Regina felt an ache in her body and tears filled her eyes.

It couldn't be. It couldn't be.

She watched another moment and waved her hand across the glass again. The picture faded away but the ache did not. How was this possible? How could she be her mother? No. It wasn't true.

She couldn't be anyone's mother. She had made sure of that a long time ago. And besides, it was unlikely anyone in the Enchanted Forest would have fallen for her so even if the laws of magic were broken and she was able to conceive, there was no father for the little angel.

Snow was her mother. David was her father. And there was a logical explanation for the scars that didn't include a baby.

This time the nausea that swept over her was fruitful. She ran back to her bathroom just in time. So much for the weight being lifted. Now there was a new one… and it lived in her heart.