Yes, Emma had said she would go back to see Regina, and she wanted to, believe you me, but she just couldn't risk it two days in a row. Could she? Aside from the awkward scowl from her attendant when she showed up in her father's pants (damp and smelling of horse) she had made it back unscathed. Emma knew there was no way in hell she could use the same lie twice and say she was going riding all day again. Her parents wouldn't believe her, she had already been too vocal in her disdain for riding, and it would appear suspicious.

Sleep wouldn't come, her mind flooded by thoughts of Regina. What was she doing? She looped in a circle, convincing herself to forget about her and never go back- move on, Emma! You stupid idiot, you saw her- big deal, you chatted… you hugged her…naked. Grr. Emma thought the night would never end, but finally at daybreak she decided to go. She would sneak out, offering no explanation to anyone (mainly because she couldn't think of a suitable lie.) She wasn't one to break her promises and she couldn't just Stand Regina up. So she convinced herself. She saddled her own horse, made the wish, and took off toward Regina's cottage.

The same heart palpitation she had experienced the day before seemed to reoccur as she tied her horse up and headed for Regina's door. She checked her breath and paced a couple times, out front, psyching herself up. Last she checked, this wasn't a high school prom date. She knocked and the door flung open by way of magic. She stepped into Regina's house and looked around. Regina was nowhere in sight. She took in the simple cottage, kitchen, living room with a fireplace and that was about it.

"Regina?" Emma called uncertain.

"You're here early," Regina's sleepy yet scathing voice called back from somewhere above.

Emma looked up, noticing a ladder leading to a loft bed, and saw Regina's hand hanging over the side.

"You're still in bed?" Emma absently scanned the room for a clock, but then remembered where she was, No cell phones, not even a simple radio alarm clock, Come on!.

"The sun is already up 3 notches." That's what people said around here, stupid.

Regina peeked over the edge of the loft and down at Emma, squinting and yawning, "Take off your boots and come up here. I'm not setting foot out of bed until the sun is up 5 notches- at least. My coven meeting ran late last night. The full moon is in two days, so there was a lot of planning and discussion to get through."

"Is that your witch business?" Emma asked with a frown, scaling the short ladder and taking in Regina's bed. She about fell off in shock, (though she shouldn't be surprised by anything at this point) when she noticed, like yesterday, Regina was buck ass naked, covered (barely) by a thin sheet.

"Nothing to worry about," Regina patted the bed beside her, her braided hair sporting flyaways from sleep, which Emma thought were oh so cute. Shaking her head, Emma crawled awkwardly around Regina's legs and sort of flopped down beside her, "Do you always sleep naked?"

"Well, when you have to sew your own clothes and the closest thing to a washing machine is a riveted board and a bar of lye, you learn to skimp and reuse," Regina said turning over to face her properly.

Emma sunk down closer to Regina, and immediately felt how soft and inviting the mattress was, "What is your bed stuffed with?

"Apple seeds and bunny tails," Regina replied wickedly, leaning even closer until they were practically nose to nose. Regina was smiling and staring- no- gazing through her sexy brown sleep-drooped eyes. Emma couldn't really think all that clearly at the moment- Yep, there was a definite haze clouding out conscious thought.

"It's even more comfortable than mine at the palace," Emma said dreamily, letting herself relax.

Regina's face contorted like she had something she wanted to ask, but was finding it difficult. She tightened her lips and then found her words, "I suppose your bed sees many visitors? I'd suspect you're down at the tavern all the time using your newfound 'princess card' as a pick up line on every half-way decent looking troll and ogre who looks your way? I hear Shrek's an alcoholic now, you've probably seen him."

Huh? Was Regina calling her a slut with bad taste in men, or was she being adorably jealous? Or Both?

"Um…I didn't even know there was a tavern."

"Oh, yes. They don't have that Big Buck Hunt game you liked, but there is something akin to shuffleboard to play," Regina answered like it was supposed to excite her.

Great, Fairy Tale Land just seems more and more like a Florida retirement village the longer she's here. Shuffleboard?

But getting back to the more important question at hand, (the one that seemed to be positively suspended in the sexual tension between them), "Actually, I haven't had any visitors to my bed. Yours is the first I've shared…" Emma was sure she sounded pathetic, and she cast her eyes downward. (Which was a very bad idea, because Regina's bare thigh had snuck out from under the sheet and was just splayed out there for her hungry, sex-deprived eyes to feast on.)

At the sight Emma trembled, and Regina interpreted it as a sign of fear. Regina's hand snaked out from under the sheet, she held Emma's wrist and traced circles on it with her thumb. When she spoke, in came out in that low, killer voice that simultaneously terrified and delighted Emma, "Really, dear? Well, you know there's no need for you to be afraid of me. You surely see that now? I've already lost everything…"

Perhaps Regina meant to intimidate through reverse psychology, but to Emma she just sounded broken and hopeless. It tore out her heart -yikes, bad choice of words- to see Regina like this (but in a decidedly perverted way, also turned her on considerably). Emma felt a lump in her throat, unable to speak, realizing with renewed clarity that she was in the Evil Queen's bed like seriously, fuck! The sudden intimacy of the moment hitched her breath; it felt exquisite and unbearable all at once. Regina's hand was making a slow travel up Emma's arm, raising goose bumps as it went.

Emma cleared her throat and scrambled away, opting to sit up and lean against the wall. She let herself cool down for a moment and then immediately opened a whole new can of awkward discussion. Smooth, Swan.

"It's um…private here, kind of quiet. It's a nice relief. At the palace I don't have any privacy at all. There are attendants in the bathroom, attendants to help me get dressed, a guard watches over me while I'm in bed. I mean not only have I not had any 'visitors' I haven't even…um…had a chance to 'visit' myself."

It was Regina's turn to falter; she didn't even know what to say to Emma's little revelation. She shifted in bed and then finally spoke, rather hoarsely, (and slightly indignantly) "you mean you haven't…touched yourself in months?"

"Not with my goober of a guard huffing around, no. And another thing: I miss batteries too, desperately," Emma lamented poutily, and Regina's mouth went dry.

"You must be feeling terribly deprived."

"Absolutely dying," Emma agreed without meaning to sound quite so fraught, despite the need that was transparently evident in her voice.

"Hmm, well, I think you're approaching things all wrong. You say you have 'attendants' to 'help' you, but those attendants and guards are actually your servants- whose only existence is to satisfy your every wish and desire. Do you understand what I mean?" Regina explained as if Emma was a particularly dense child.

"Yeah, but Snow says that they are not there for me to boss around, and as much as they annoy me- that doesn't help with my problem," Emma twisted in confusion.

Regina smiled, evil glint twinkling in her eye, "Do you know what I used to do with my servants?"

"I can only imagine, Regina."

"I'll demonstrate. Okay, you are the servant and I am the queen, and you're helping me in the bath," Regina backed up wriggling between Emma's legs, and sat facing away from her. Emma focused; intent on the shadows that cascaded down Regina's muscled back in the dim light.

"Uh huh," Emma played along, barely listening.

"So I'm taking my bath, and my attendant is behind me, with the washcloth, washing my back—that's your cue, dear," Regina stopped and turned her neck, tapping Emma's arm and giving her the old raised eyebrow look.

"What?"

"Wash my back," Regina repeated slowly.

Emma carefully moved her hands up and down Regina's back, gently caressing her.

"Good, then I move my head around a little and sigh, crack my neck a bit and ask for a massage- if they don't get the hint," Regina demonstrated as Emma continued to stroke her back until Regina cleared her throat.

"Oh!" Emma moved her hands up and worked her shoulders, gliding easily over her long neck, causing Regina to relax and fall back against Emma, resting her head just under Emma's chin.

"That's lovely dear. Do you know what to do next?" Regina asked hopefully.

?

"Um?"

"You take your attendant's dainty little hand from your neck and…" Regina reached back for Emma's hand, pulling and leading it, covered by her own, on a southbound journey- between her breasts (which were looking positively edible with nipples ripe as cherries begging to be sucked) and further down her torso, over the dimple of her belly button, raking gently through the tuft of soft hair, until it finally reached land ho! nestled cozily between Regina's legs. Regina removed her own hand and rested it on Emma's outstretched leg like an armchair, "you may continue my massage now." Subtlety, Regina, look it up.

Emma breathed against Regina's hair, the heat of her body nicely warming Emma's insides. Feeling dizzy in the head and a pleasant dull throb between her legs, she slowly moved just her middle finger back and forth against Regina, who whispered breathily, "Touch me the same as you like to touch yourself. I want to feel it."

Emma grew a tiny bit bolder in her exploration, parting her lips with her finger and testing her wetness, finding Regina to be more than ready. She gathered the wetness and spread it over her clit, applying a steady pressure. Emma's moved her other hand from Regina's shoulder down to her breast, covering it, squeezing lightly, brushing over her nipple to elicit a gratifying sound from Regina, and a tightened grip on Emma's thigh.

Emma was completely caught up in the sights of sound of Regina below her. She was enjoying her vantage point, but getting leverage was difficult and she couldn't get her fingers in as deep as she wanted. Oh God, what was happening? She had been so easily seduced it was laughable.

Regina-smoldering hotness, lickable lip scar, Regina, sexy mean bitch, cool and controlling in the best way ever, Regina, murderer, rapist, thief of her childhood, killer of fathers, enactor of the dark curse…

Right then and there-(with fingers buried halfway in Regina, and Regina climbing halfway to orgasm) - Emma freaked the fuck out. She snapped her hands away from Regina's body completely, causing Regina (who was mid-moan) to drop her voice from a moan of pleasure to a moan of agony like a pitch whistle. Emma tried to slow her breathing, and to wipe the evidence of sex from her fingers. She was coursing with adrenalin and fear, she wanted to run, but she was effectively trapped. Backed tight against the wall on the second floor loft, with a very (sexually) aroused and exceptionally (sexually) pissed off Regina sitting tight between her legs. This may be her last conscious moment ever.

Regina took a deep breath, and with a never before seen display of impressive (sexual) agility, flipped onto her hands and knees, pressed her face close to Emma, and firmly wrapped her hand around Emma's throat, a growl emanating from her own, as she asked with emphasis, "Why. Did. You. Stop. Swan?"

"I—I—can't-"Regina's grip tightened (an effective threat to be sure).

"The name of my bathroom attendant is Mabel. She's pushing 80 years old at least. I would never ask her to do that to me," Emma replied flustered, making up an excuse. (Anything was better than saying she had a sex induced panic attack/flashback of Regina's unspeakable evil deeds and was having a hard time reconciling if fucking her equaled forgiving her, not to mention the betrayal of her parents, etc., on and on and on).

Regina was not amused; she licked her lips, breath still a little labored from unfulfilled need. Emma's eyes betrayed her and Regina could see the obvious want and desire on display there.

"Look at me," Regina's had loosened from Emma's neck, and now caressed her collar bone.

She was willing to forgive Emma, just this once, this had happened rather quickly, (even if all of their time in Storybrooke was considered foreplay, which to Regina it might as well been. Ah, she kind of missed those days of eye sex and collapsed mines). Perhaps she had pushed Emma into something she wasn't ready for today, due to her own loneliness, (cursed powers of effortless seduction) but the question Regina had, and had to have the answer to: would Emma ever be ready?

A long moment passed, neither woman saying anything, Emma looked to be on the verge of tears, she wanted Regina so much, she wanted to make her feel good, to soothe and comfort her, (to make her cum like a banshee on Halloween) In fact, she had been thoroughly enjoying everything about Regina which was really saying something, (what with Regina being evil and Emma really not liking people in general). For the first time in months, (despite the undercurrent of nerves and worry) she had actually looked forward to today, but it was just difficult right now. Not impossible though, never impossible. Very possible, indeed.

Regina inched closer, her face pressed close to Emma so much so they were breathing the same air. Regina's tongue made a slow sweep of her own bottom lip as she shifted her gaze back and forth from Emma's lips to her eyes: searching, reading, hoping. They were both agitated, fidgety, nervous, more excited by each other than either would care to admit, "It's quite alright, dear. Just answer honestly. Forget about Mabel. Could you ever ask me?"