Notes: this chapter contains references to magical drug use (sort of) and not entirely sober-sex having. Dragon fire's weird stuff. It also turned out sexier than I planned, so I've raised the rating, just in case.

Huge thanks again to Race. :)


Maleficent rolled her eyes and then looked directly at Emma. Her voice dropped a register, picking up just enough strength to catch Emma's attention. "Don't you think feeling your inner dragon is the kind of experience you should share?" and yes, dammit, Maleficent was smirking. A part of Regina wanted to slap the expression off of the other woman's face. The rest of her wanted to thank her.

Emma must have agreed because she was suddenly closer, her hand stroking the small of Regina's back in gentle circles, heat seeping through the sheer fabric of her nightgown. Regina had to bite back the sigh that floated up from her chest as Emma's fingers slid upward, following the line of Regina's spine until she found the naked skin of her back. Trembling where she stood, Regina turned away from Mal's too knowing gaze.

The motion was a mistake, because now she was facing Emma. Emma who waited for her, caressing Regina's neck, easing her closer. Emma's eyes were so green, like new grass or a deep pool in the forest and Regina thought she might drown in them. And yet she wasn't afraid. The way Emma looked at her now was familiar. It was how they'd always looked at one another, since the very first moment on a quiet summer's evening, when Henry's words 'I found my real mom!' still ringing in Regina's ears. They've always stared too long and pushed too hard, always orbited too close as if there was some gravitational pull in which they were both caught. And always Regina had resisted. Out of fear, and anger and later, out of despair because she'd thought Emma could never be hers and Regina was learning to be content; with friendship, with family. It had been enough.

Emma's fingers stroked the soft hair at the nape of her neck and Regina could feel the heat radiating off her body.

It wasn't enough anymore.

Regina has been taken most of her life. Controlled by her mother, then the King. She'd been moulded by Rumplestiltskin, handed from one person to another like a trophy or a tool until it was all she understood and all she could do was repeat the cycle, hurting Graham the way she'd been hurt, lashing out at others to make them feel her pain until the soft, gentle memories of Daniel were buried beneath her anger.

Henry had helped her break from that path, showing her it was possible, giving her a reason to keep going when she stumbled and fell. She had learned to love, but she had never known this kind of need, this desire that pulsed in her blood, tightening her body even as she wanted more.

It should have terrified her, the strength of her wanting, but it didn't. It didn't because of Emma. Emma didn't want to control her or use her. She wasn't a pawn to Emma's game or a tool that could be used. She wasn't a trophy to be shown off. Emma wanted her. And the desire that echoed Regina's own was written on Emma's familiar features in front of Regina as clearly as if it had been tattooed there. Emma's hand brushed against Regina's cheek, guiding her gently closer as her lips parted. Her thumb stroked back and forth over Regina's cheek, but she made no other move.

Still and expectant, Regina realised that Emma was waiting for her.

"Emma?"

"Hey," and there it was, there she was. The rumble of the dragon might have given the word weight, but the word, the look, the touch. It was all Emma.

Regina let herself go, closed the last distance between them until their lips were just brushing. It wasn't a kiss, it wasn't meant to be a kiss, not yet, but Emma's hands tightened and Regina's rose to clutch at Emma's hips as her lips parted, yes falling closed as she breathed in, in in. Fire crackled against her lips, slipping into her mouth, heat that should have seared and destroyed instead becoming part of her, of her, heady and bright and oh, so much power. Regina's fingers tightened and someone – Maleficent? – growled approval as Regina took the fire from Emma. When they finally kissed, the connection of their flesh was almost an afterthought.

Fire raged in her lungs and distantly, as if it were happening to someone else, Regina wondered if she should be afraid of what it might do to her, if it would burn her as it had before. She could still recall the agony as her flesh seared, remember Mal's sharp voice and gentle hands…but those memories faded away even now as she breathed deeper, her mouth brushing Emma's; their hands gripping tight enough to leave marks. And Regina knew: the fire wouldn't burn her now because she was made of it, because it came from Emma and nothing that was from Emma would hurt her, not anymore. And with that surety came so much more than heat. The dragon was more than fire, it was invincibility, it was power as old as the earth beneath them. Regina clung to Emma and breathed all of it in.

Emma's skin was no longer warmer than her own and as their bodies pressed together Regina could no longer tell where she ended and Emma began.

Then tender fingers caressed the bite mark on her neck sending a pulse of recognition thrumming through Regina's body, making her gasp against Emma's mouth. It left aching desire in its wake, her pulse pounding thickly between her legs, and a hunger of a different kind swelling in her chest. "Mine," Regina whispered, tugging Emma impossibly closer. She understood better now, the sense of possession, the desire to take. She'd been so afraid that she wasn't wanted, that she would shatter whatever was growing between her and Emma. Now she knew better, she could feel the racing beat of Emma's heart against her own ribs, taste Emma's hunger on her own tongue. There was no reason to wait any longer, no reason to hold back, not when they could be together like this.

Emma kissed her, deep, slow and steady then Regina slid her arms around Emma's waist just to hold on, to keep herself up when Emma eased away then nuzzled the corner of her mouth, pressing a soft kiss there, then another and another. The aftereffects of the contact crackled through Regina like an electric current, stoking her desire. How had Emma held back? Why weren't their clothes already lying in shreds on the floor? Regina couldn't remember.

"Get out you two." The voice, weary, but still full of exasperation, cut through the white hot nothing inside Regina's head. Blinking, she pulled back, and was met by Emma's equally glazed green eyes. Regina might have grinned somewhat stupidly; Emma certainly did. Behind them, Maleficent made a disgusted noise. "Honestly, its about time. You're of no use to anyone like this, get out."

Before Regina could formulate a reply she heard a noise downstairs and…outside? Yes, still outside. Cruella and Ursula had returned. Regina could smell them as they entered her house: fur and expensive perfume and a whiff of gin, brine and leather and the cold breeze. There was someone else with them who smelled of forest and red pepper and…wolf. Granny, Regina identified. Granny had experience with witches and shapeshifters and wouldn't let Mal misbehave. Between the three of them they would be able to care for Maleficent for a while. There was no reason to stay here at the moment.

Regina looked at Emma, and saw the same thought in those green eyes.

She needed Emma, needed to experience Emma, know her completely and be known in return. A part of Regina knew that if Maleficent hadn't tossed them out, there was a very real possibility they'd have taken each other right there, even with an audience.

Somehow she couldn't bring herself to care. Instead, she slipped her hand into Emma's and squeezed gently, 'yes,' she thought as Emma looked at her. 'Yes' Emma squeezed back and turned, guiding Regina away down the hall toward her own bedroom. She could hear Granny, Ursula and Cruella on the stairs now and some last remaining tension between Regina's shoulders eased. They would help Maleficent, perhaps better than she and Emma could at this point. Henry was at school and would remain there for several hours.

No one else needed her.

No one but Emma.


Regina didn't remember the steps between Maleficent's room and her own, time sliding sideways and snapping back into place with the feeling of Emma's arms around her, anchoring her. She was weak and strong all at once, her knees trembling even as the magic rolled through both her and Emma, crackling and calling to her, urging her forward until she had Emma backed against the far wall, her lips on Emma's skin and Emma's pulse racing, calling to her own.

The fire inside her had stripped away the last of her fear, letting Regina feel without trying to hold back and what she felt was wonderful.

She looked at Emma and her whole body sang, the mark on her neck throbbing in time with her heartbeat as desire pulsed thick and heavy between her legs. And Emma…bright, beautiful, kind Emma was looking at her like she was all that mattered in the world. Her smile held such joy, promised such affection that Regina knew even if it weren't for the dragon fire in their blood, she would have given in. There was no fear in Emma's gaze, only pure, blinding want, and Regina gave herself up to it: to gentle hands and a hungry mouth and safety. They were both falling but Emma would catch her, she knew. She felt Emma, all around her, holding her up; Regina opened her mouth and breathed deeper.

The fire raced through her, burning away the traitorous voice that said Emma would leave her, the voice that whispered to her in the dark of night that everyone she loved left her; that she was unlovable, unworthy; that she hurt what she touched. Regina breathed Emma in and that voice was thrown into the fire, consumed, made ash and smoke and breathed out again. The heat of Emma's lips against her own teased the inferno inside her and fed it, urging it higher. They traded it, back and forth, in and out, letting it grow with each breath, each fevered press of their lips, each racing beat of their hearts and it swept over them like a great wave until they could no longer be still.

Once there had been Maleficent's scales against her bare skin, now there was only the soft heat of Emma's hand as she reached out, caressing a single finger along the neckline of Regina's gown before twitching her wrist. Emma didn't have claws or scales, but the fabric parted anyway, slashed and burned, the edges blackened and the scent of ash in the air as it fell away, exposing Regina's skin. Then Emma's hands were on her, reverent and tender and hungry. They moved without design or intent other than to touch and a groan escaped Regina's lips, almost inaudible above the pounding of her pulse in her ears. How long? How long since someone had desired her like this? Daniel – dear sweet, gentle Daniel a part of her would always love – would never have touched her like this, his slim mortal frame incapable of holding such fire. Maleficent, of course, had been closer, but Regina had been the one to hold back then, when she was the one who feared being burned.

She wasn't afraid of Emma. She knew Emma. Her nemesis, her foil, her opposite, her partner, her friend, her confidante, her protector...

Her mate.

This time the low growl rumbled through Regina's chest, making the air between them shiver. Dragging her fingers down and across Emma's chest, Regina watched the fabric part at her touch, blackening as if her fingers were tipped in fire. Where her fingertips touched Emma, though, there were no burns. Fabric was weak. They were not; they were impervious to fire. They were made of fire and Emma stood unflinching, smiling, waiting beneath Regina's hands.

Waiting for Regina to claim her.

"Mine."

Maybe Emma said it, or maybe Regina did, it hardly mattered. They owned each other together, and the fresh bite on Regina's neck throbbed, coaxing her forward to press her lips to the tender skin of Emma's throat. She wanted...she wanted…

"Mark me," Emma whispered, her voice half a purr in her throat as her hands smoothed along Regina's spine, restless and needy. "Make me yours." Her head tipped back against the wall, baring her neck to Regina's gaze and Regina knew, somehow, just how to bite her to seal the bond, knew what the power would feel like in her bones when the circle was complete, knew what Emma's blood would taste like on her tongue. Her teeth were knives in her mouth, yet still hers, her hands claw-tipped but soft, her skin scaled and clean. They were both and everything at once and when she broke Emma's skin, the ritual would be completed. They'd be sealed in the unbreakable bond of mates, forever entwined.

Emma would be hers.

Like a cold breeze slipping through the crack in a doorway, that thought brought doubt. A part of Regina - that still spoke in Cora's voice and echoed with punishments long survived - whispered that this was wrong, she didn't deserve Emma, didn't deserve this, would never be worthy, that it would only end in tragedy like all her other loves, because love was a weakness…

Just as she readied herself to pull away, Emma's fingertips brushed the bite on her neck, sending a wave of need rushing through her blood. "Emma," she sighed, eyes closing as she leaned closer, wanting so deeply, but torn.

"Make the mark, Regina. Please." It was the first time Emma had said her name since all this started and it made Regina look up, into green eyes that were clear and totally fearless. Emma dipped her head, brushing her lips across Regina's in the softest, lightest kiss, just barely enough for the fire to trickle between them, but enough, finally enough, for the deep voice within her to drown out Cora's words, for Regina to find strength in her soul that reached for Emma, part of her knew that love wasn't about deserving, but giving. This wasn't about the past, but the present and the future. It was about having, and belonging, taking and giving in equal measure.

Emma offered herself, and all of Regina was Emma's, so she gave without hesitation.

Doubt faded and heat suffused her limbs, making her forget she had ever been afraid. Regina brushed her lips over Emma's neck, feeling the racing pulse just beneath the skin. It called to the dragon inside her, promising possession and power like music just beyond the range of human hearing. She pressed soft kisses to the corner of Emma's jaw and smiled when she drew a whimper from Emma's lips. Emma trembled beneath her hands, quivering in delight and anticipation, the silky curtain of her hair falling off her other shoulder.

Regina tangled her fingers in it and tugged, 'mine' thrumming through her mind as she stared at the taut line of Emma's throat.

"Make the mark," Emma begged. Her hand smoothed along the line of Regina's thigh, over the curve of her hip, promising more, and Regina ached with it.

She held off for one more moment though, one more span of heartbeats to lift Emma's chin and meet her eyes, making sure.

Foolish, perhaps, because the answer was right there. This was Emma, Emma with all her fears burned away, and she wanted Regina.

And Regina wanted her.

Her teeth pressed against human skin, pressed and bit. Blood sang, sweet copper in her mouth and a wave of power burst outward, like the rush of a curse breaking, but made of fire, not rainbows. Emma gasped and Regina moaned, both of them clinging to each other as the connection was sealed, the mark made in an instant that would last forever.

It was done.

The rest blurred, for the dragon, once full of the promise of Emma; all the power and affection of her, knew exactly what she wanted. She took and gave, revelling in the force ignited between them. Magic, fire, even life hummed between them, and she knew, only like a dream, that they hovered over the bed, crashed against the wall, pressed each other to the ceiling, because gravity meant nothing. There was only slick skin and welcoming heat, only lips and tongues and hands and pleasure that rolled in and out like a tide, lapping at their consciousness like waves but never truly receding.

Emma was all that mattered, and she was just as consumed with Regina. Fire called to them, and together they burned.


The first coherent thought that managed to make its way through the dark fog of Emma's mind was that maybe once, in an expensive hotel on assignment, she'd had sheets this nice. Her own sheets certainly weren't this nice and the spare sheets for her parents' couch definitely weren't this soft against her skin.

Against her skin that was exposed, because she was very, very naked, in a bed that wasn't hers. The roof of her mouth was tender against her tongue, as if she'd been eating pizza before it cooled properly and her lips stung, as if chapped. The scent of smoke hung heavy in the air, as if she'd fallen asleep next to a bonfire and Emma's skin promised a hundred little pains like bruises. She could feel the familiar pull of scratches along her back, her arms and her hips.

She was also not alone. With her eyes closed, Emma tried to force her brain to make sense of the jumbled signals her body was sending her. Where ever she was, she lay naked, scratched and with a living body wrapped around her own.

Memory was jumbled in with sensation, crowding Emma's mind. Sun on her face and the knowledge it was probably mid day, maybe lunch time, competed for attention with the memory of lips on her skin. The soft weight of an unfamiliar body was overlayed with memory of the rising crest of her orgasm, someone's fingers inside her even as the sharp pain of teeth at her shoulder drove her over the edge. Her body tightened at that memory, an echo of something more than pleasure, something made of magic and power finally catapulting her into waking fully.

Emma looked down to see tousled dark hair and a familiar face. Regina. It was Regina who lay draped across her, holding her close. Recognition, realisation, brought a swift surge of protectiveness and Emma's arms tightened instinctively around the slim, precious body against her own. 'Mine,' she heard like a far off whisper, but the voice was her own, filling her chest with warmth and light and joy.

Everything else from that morning came rushing back, sense memory hitting Emma so hard she only barely bit back a groan. She'd lost count of the ways they'd taken each other. It all blurred together, Regina's mouth on her breasts, the taste of Regina's desire in Emma's mouth, the way Regina cradled her close as she quivered in the aftermath of her orgasm, Regina's fingers, demanding inside her, Regina crying her name from somewhere above her…

The magic they'd shared had driven them far past most human tolerances and it didn't seem to be fully gone from her system because even now Emma didn't feel exhausted. If anything she felt rejuvenated, reborn, and a part of her wanted to kiss Regina awake and start all over again. The scratches on her skin were fading, she could feel it and she wanted to see the light fill Regina's eyes.

Still, she held back. They might have both wanted this, but these last days had been agonising for Regina and Emma wanted her to sleep while she could. She was unable to resist lifting her head though, smelling sweat and the remnants of fire in Regina's hair. She kissed that dark hair, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of intimacy that accompanied the simple gesture. Regina, beautiful, mended, confusing, powerful, gorgeous Regina, lay naked on top of her. Emma didn't ever want to get out of this bed.

She remembered what it had felt like to want so deeply, to be utterly sure of her right to have and though the dragon now slumbered, Emma couldn't stop her hand from reaching up, stroking softly through the silky hair spilled across her chest. She probably should have felt more guilty when it caused Regina to stir, moaning softly.

"Hey," she whispered, waiting for Regina's eyes to blink open. Emma was right. They were stunning in the bright light of day, lit like stained glass, not brown but the deepest amber and maybe it was just her overactive imagination, but she thought she could still see the briefest flicker of fire in them before Regina blinked and it was gone. Regina lifted her head lazily from Emma's chest and smiled, slow and careful, shy and satisfied at the same time. It was like watching the sun come out after a storm, such a beautiful expression, Emma knew she was smiling too, probably like an idiot, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't remember ever feeling this content.

Instead of answering, Regina shifted, pressing closer and tracing her tongue along the mark on Emma's neck. Even now the sensation made her gasp, liquid heat pooling between her legs. Her memory of begging for that mark, wanting to be Regina's as much as Regina was hers was still jumbled, like looking in a cracked mirror. The image was all there, but little pieces of other memories disrupted it; Emma could recall Cruella calling for her, a spike of fear that something had happened to Regina, the sight of Maleficent, ice cold and too-still, Regina's eyes dark with fear and longing then it all washed away with the warmth of Regina against her, fire and want and arousal blurring the rest of the morning they'd spent together. Emma's teeth still tingled, and a sense of well-being lived so deep within her that Emma wondered if the dragon fire had left something behind. Or perhaps it was just the wonder of Regina, because Emma still tasted her on her lips. The welcome soreness between her legs was definitely from her. When she kissed Regina's hand, she knew that scent.

The sheets wrapped around them had been torn from the bed, and the mattress lay crooked in the sagging frame. Plaster and paint chips lay in the carpet. The pyjamas Emma had been wearing were ash, and Regina's nightgown had survived no better. Even the carpet beneath them had burn marks. As Emma watched, the delicate red marks on Regina's skin faded away. Regina lifted her arm, staring in wonder as her skin healed.

"Hey," Emma said, reaching for Regina's cheek.

Regina leaned into her fingers, smiling. The way her eyes lit when Emma made contact, sent a rush of warmth down to Emma's toes. Her smile began to fade, and Emma leaned in to kiss her before it could.

This chaste meeting of their lips was the first sober meeting of their mouths, and it held just as much intoxicating promise as the hungry kisses that returned to Emma's scrambled memories as her mind cleared.

"Dragon fire's worse than tequila," Regina muttered. She sat up, reached for the sheet and stopped, unashamed. Maybe Emma had already starred too much at her breasts.

"Yeah," Emma agreed, studying the damage to Regina's bed room. "Looks like it."

"Yet this is better" Regina added, shyly searching for Emma's eyes. She ran her fingers over the fresh scar on her neck and then reached for Emma's, finding the matching mark. "No hangover."

"Well," Emma began and stopped, then swallowed. She couldn't stop looking at Regina, wanting to touch her. "Kind of."

Regina's fingers ran through Emma's hair, she smiled at her then looked down and blushed. "Then I think this is the best hangover I've ever had."

Emma caught her hand, stroking Regina's fingers as if she needed to learn how the bones fit into her skin. The hint of brimstone still clung to her skin, as if she'd stood in a fire not a moment before. She kissed her fingers, then her wrist, then Regina's shoulder. Regina shivered at the touch, then leaned back, pulling Emma down to the abused mattress with her. Emma lay across her chest, trying not to be completely distracted by Regina's perfect breasts and how close they were to her mouth.

"We should get up," Regina said. She ran her fingertips down Emma's neck, then leaned up with great caution, as if kissing Emma now would burn the way it hadn't before. It didn't. Kissing now was sweeter than it had been when they'd both been consumed so utterly by dragon fire. Now there was no doubt that this was real, that whatever they were building between them was so rich that it had outlasted the fire.

Emma snuck one more kiss before she got to her feet, and another as she threw the sheet back on the bed and smirked at Regina's naked body.

"What?"

"You're beautiful," Emma said.

Regina shook her head once and headed for her closet, her dark hair falling wild on her shoulders. "Thank you," she said finally, but it was an automatic response. She started pulling on new panties, easing them over her legs and sliding them up over her hips. Emma stared at her perfect ass until she realised how terrible that was, then, blushing, she dropped her gaze.

"You don't like it."

"Being beautiful's never been anything but trouble for me," Regina said. Slipping on her silky, lacy bra, she stopped and corrected herself. "Occasionally it was useful, but it certainly caused more harm than good."

Emma shook her head, lowering her chin to Regina's shoulder as she stared at her drawer of smooth, silky underwear. Emma was lucky when her panties didn't have holes in them and that her bras hadn't faded. "I'm sorry."

"I used to wish it away," Regina said. She reached up and caught Emma's hand on her arm. She held it to her, leaning back into Emma's warm body. "If I'd been ugly, Leopold would never have been interested in me, and I could have run away with Daniel."

Emma's hand inadvertently brushed the mating scar on Regina's neck and both of them shared the sudden rush of heat that bloomed beneath their skin. "Sorry."

Regina raised her eyebrows and turned in Emma's arms, smiling shyly. "I don't think I mind it when you say it."

"Oh?" Emma leaned inwards, burying her lips on Regina's neck as she worked her way around to her mouth. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You know that, right?"

"You are aware that we come from a land where at least four other women have been described as the fairest in all the land, including your mother." Regina kissed her back, even though the words were half-lost in the meeting of their lips.

"Not by me," Emma teased, smiling. "And my opinion matters a lot, you know."

Regina leant against her, taking a breath as if the scent of Emma could armour her for the world outside her trashed bedroom. "You need clothes."

Emma shrugged, she'd all but forgotten that she was naked. "Yeah, I guess I do."

Regina headed for her closet and took out a pair of jeans, and as she pulled them on, Emma was so distracted watching that she forgot that she'd have to obtain her clothes somehow. "Can you fetch them with magic?" Regina asked, searching for a simple t-shirt.

Emma could have easily spent the rest of the day watching Regina get dressed, then undressed again. She shook herself out of it. "How would I do that?"

Regina sat on the bed, which creaked in protest, as she pulled on her socks. "It's like reaching into your closet in your mind. See what you want, and reach for it with your thoughts instead of your hands."

Emma shut her eyes and tried to think of everything she'd need. When she opened them, she had three socks that didn't match, a grey bra all twisted into a knot, jeans, panties, a tank top, and a shirt, which was what really mattered. She tugged them on in a hurry, trying not to be distracted as Regina used magic to clean up her bedroom. The marks in the carpet disappeared and the sheets returned to the bed, which repaired itself. It seemed to take a good deal of concentration by the way Regina's brow furrowed, but it was way better than cleaning by hand.

Emma waited by the door, watching Regina finish by poofing what was left of their destroyed clothing out of existence. Emma reached out her hand, smiling. "Ready?"

Starring at her offered palm, Regina struggled with her mouth, as if caught between a smile and some other emotion. She took Emma's hand and squeezed it, then looked up at her. "Yes."

The smooth face of the mayor descended then, covering up Regina with a veil of competency. Not that Regina lacked the ability to handle anything that came her way, but she chose to protect herself and Emma recognised the safety in hiding. She kind of wished she could do it. Following Regina into the hallway, Emma caught another glance at the mark on Regina's neck and remembered how it felt to make the scar. She'd never been so entirely in control of herself, yet surrendered so much to the other person. She still didn't understand it. She remembered bits and pieces that were shockingly vivid, and emotions, and her body certainly remembered Regina's touch, but she didn't know what it was, what it meant, where they were headed: it didn't matter. They'd be together, Emma had no doubt of that.


Regina's guest room was still full of activity as they entered. Cruella held Maleficent's hands, holding her up against the headboard because she had no strength, Granny held a mixing bowl from the kitchen up in front of her and as they watched, Ursula drew water out of Maleficent's lungs with some kind of spell.

Dark, brackish and bloodied water broke in a bubble from Maleficent's pale lips. It hovered before her before falling neatly into the bowl. They stopped, because Maleficent's eyes threatened to roll back into her head and her back contorted in pain. Cruella slapped her face and Maleficent somehow clung to consciousness. That had been gentle, Emma realised by the sound but she didn't know Cruella had ever employed restraint.

Granny patted Ursula's shoulder and set the bowl on the floor, eyeing her patient, who breathed a little easier than she had before. "I think that's all she can take for now."

Ursula nodded, and slipped from the bed. She moved too smoothly, almost as if the bones in her legs weren't as solid as they appeared. She lifted the bowl and headed out of the room. Her grin at Regina and Emma was knowing, but without judgement. "Seems like someone got a few lungfuls of the dark curse when she went through the line. I'll get rid of it, don't worry."

Emma stared at the white mixing bowl and the dark water swirling within. For a moment it simply looked like water and charcoal, tinged with blood, yet something green and dark spun wild within and the more she watched, the deeper it threatened to draw her in. Regina drew her attention back and they took a few steps closer to the bed.

"Maleficent's ribs are a little beat up from coughing, if you two can heal them you'll take away much of her pain," Granny said, looking at Emma and Regina, almost expectantly.

Emma glanced at Regina, who slipped into the space by the bed Cruella had just vacated. Maleficent lay on the pillows, very still, but less pale than she'd been before.

"The Dark Curse?" Emma asked, in case anyone was listening who could answer the question.

"Some of its power remains in your town line, protecting you from the world," Cruella explained, standing back with her arms crossed. "When this town was cursed, it was simply a way to keep you all in, but now that the curse has been lifted, what remains of that dark power protects you from the outside and keeps magic within the town's borders. Mal should have realised that before she tried to walk through it."

"You had no idea either," Maleficent whispered, her voice sharp like broken glass. "Don't get all high and mighty with me. The same thing might happen to you if you tried to cross."

"But I won't, darling, that's the difference," Cruella said, shaking her head. "You're lucky the saviour here could handle the dragon fire."

Emma and Regina shared a long look, and even though she still looked half-dead, Maleficent managed to smile.

"Doesn't seem like she could handle it on her own," Maleficent added. She started coughing again, and Granny was right, there was more agony evident in her face now than there had been before. Her desperate gasping when she caught her breath was painful even to hear.

"What do we do?" Emma asked, placing her hand on Regina's arm. "We can fix this, right?"

Regina sat down on the bed when Granny moved back to give her space. "Did you let the tentacled siren break your ribs while we were gone?"

Maleficent shook her head, and it was only by the smallest of motions that her head moved at all. "I did that on my own," she insisted, even though pain made her words end in a hiss.

Regina reached up for Emma's hand, and held it tight. She began to tug Emma's energy, directing her subtly, as if channelling Emma's power through herself. Magic hummed through Emma, as if she and Regina together formed a chord. Regina lay her hand on Maleficent's chest, and the chord changed, growing richer. Emma's head swam for a moment, and she heard the terrible creaking of bones slipping back together. The knitting was over in a moment, buried in the hum of magic coursing between Emma and Regina.

"I didn't know we could do that," Emma said, watching Regina stroke Maleficent's cheek and wipe away her slow tears. "We can heal bones?"

"You might find your magic functions better together now," Maleficent replied, finally without pain in her voice. "It's a side effect."

Emma assumed she meant the dragon fire and started to ask if she'd have any other side effects, then she stopped. Maleficent could see Regina's neck and the mark there. She's watched them both so drunk with each other that they'd nearly made love with her in the room. Sharing magic was a side effect of the mating bond, not the dragon fire. Right. Maleficent knew that, and she'd read Emma's face even as she'd sat through what had to be the deeply uncomfortable process of having her ribs mended. Emma wondered if she should be more careful in front of Maleficent but realised that there was probably little she could do. She remembered what dragon-fire enhanced senses had been like, and if Maleficent saw the world like that all the time, well, it was a good thing that she seemed to be on Regina's side.

"You'll be fine," Regina promised, fussing with the blankets even though as far as Emma could tell, they were okay.

"You just feel guilty because that was your curse Ursula had to pull out of my lungs," Maleficent teased. Emma watched Regina's smile twist, but grow instead of fading.

"Perhaps," Regina said. "You should rest."

Maleficent rolled her eyes. "After all that trouble you went to, keeping me awake?"

Listening to them argue, Emma hovered behind Regina, unsure where her place was. She knew Maleficent was no threat to her nascent relationship with Regina, and Regina loved the dragon-lady, as Emma loved Neal. Of course she would, they had a child together, and even if that baby wasn't here, that was still a connection that would never fade between them. Emma rested a hand on Regina's shoulder, then leaned down to kiss her cheek. Her power had been used for what was needed, and Maleficent and Regina needed space to talk. She could keep an eye on Cruella and Ursula in the kitchen, or start doing something about the front door and the mess that extended all across Regina's stoop.

Regina caught her as Emma took a step back and they stopped, kissing in front of Maleficent, again. Maleficent's sigh as she watched was heavy, resigned, but happy. Emma was almost certain that the weary smile Maleficent had as she left was for her, then she left them alone.