Sorry for how late this one is, guys. School's been hectic and I still have about 3 assignments to do, but y'know. Procrastination and all. The first part of this chapter is (is my attempt at) smutty, so BIG warning there. The rest of this chapter is just establishing the rest of the storyline, really. Sorry if it isn't all that good

Disclaimer: I don't own OUaT or its characters, nor do I own the rights to the songs referenced.

Song: Trembling Hands – The Temper Trap

Chapter 14: Trembling Hands

Treading the ground I once used to know

People are strangers, same as before

Streets look familiar. I remember the part,

Where I buried my head so deep in my hands

All around me was dark

They ended up at the beach. That means twice now, Emma had brought herself here whilst in emotional turmoil. The constant serenity of the waves was soothing in its own way – it helped to calm her thoughts and curb her emotions. Although, it seemed, there would be no 'calming' at this point in time.

Emma was poised, straddled over Regina's lap, their mouths moving passionately together. Sometime in the last half an hour, Emma had misplaced her pants – a hard feat in the front seat of a car - and Regina was missing her shirt, but neither minded. Tanned hands roamed Emma's toned stomach while pale fingers massaged tanned, heaving breasts through black lace. The brunette growled at the contact, deep within her throat and pulled away from Emma's lips to trail down her neck, stopping to suck at Emma's pulse point.

The blonde moved her hands to Regina's back, unlatching the bra and letting the lace fall away from her body. Emma's breath caught as she pulled back and took in the brunette's bare torso, muttering a very amazed "beautiful" before lowering herself to capture the tip of newly revealed skin between her pale lips. Regina shivered at the sensation and arched her chest further into Emma's mouth. The brunette's hands played at the hem of Emma's shirt, when the blonde pulled back, the shirt was lifted over her head and thrown in the direction of the back seat. In the same instant, Regina's hands met to unlatch the red bra encasing the blonde's chest and pull the garment free.

Regina crashed her mouth against the blonde's once more, passion and lust fuelling their movements and coating the windows in a damp steam. Emma pulled back when the need for air became too great, choosing to rest her forehead against Regina's as they stared into each other's eyes. Slowly, pale fingers crept their way down Regina's stomach to the button of her slacks. With a small flick of her wrist, the button was unfastened and the zipper undone at an agonizingly slow pace, all while Emma held Regina's gaze.

Once open, Emma slipped her fingers inside, ghosting them just over the lace containing the woman's heat. The blonde watched as chocolate eyes filled with lust, becoming almost black with desire. Emma teased the woman, playing her fingers lightly over the lace until Regina was practically screaming in frustration and she let up. Kissing Regina passionately, the blonde lifted her hand, sliding her fingers under black lace and through damp curls before finding their destination. Emma circled the bundle of nerves slowly, causing Regina's mouth to open in a long moan against Emma's. Emma slowly sped her ministrations, waiting until the older woman's hips began to grind in time with her own fingers before sliding them down to enter the brunette.

Regina all but screamed as Emma thrust two pale fingers into her soaking need. The brunette grasped the back of Emma's neck and pulled her into a kiss, immediately gliding her tongue past pale lips. Emma continued to thrust, curling her fingers slightly until Regina felt a pull deep within her stomach. At this, the brunette immediately slid her hand from its purchase on Emma's hip and into the blonde's cotton panties. Without hesitation, tanned fingers slid through molten heat and entered the blonde eliciting a deep, guttural moan. Intent on finishing together, Regina lifted her thumb to circle the blondes bundle, increasing her speed as her own walls began to clench. When she felt the blonde begin to do the same, both women sped their movements once more before falling headfirst into ecstasy.

Coming down from her high, Regina couldn't help but dissolve into a fit of giggles, followed closely by the blonde who had dropped her head to the woman's shoulder. After catching her breath once more, Emma rolled off Regina, leaving her legs to lay over the brunette's lap, and leant back against the door of the car. Regina looked at the blonde for a moment before erupting with yet other burst of laughter, this time without the blonde.

"What is so funny?"

"Nothing it's just, that was a first – for real – and it was in the front seat of your car in a public venue. It's just… so not me and I don't even care. I'm so happy right now, I don't think I could honestly be any happier."

"Well," the blonde sat upright, removing her legs from the brunette and tucking them underneath herself. "I guess you wouldn't be against, " Emma pushed on Regina's shoulder until the latter lay with her back propped against the door and her legs spread gloriously to accompany the blonde between them, "feeling just a little bit happier?"

Regina's answer was cut off as Emma pressed a chaste kiss to her lips before trailing her own down the brunette's neck, past her collarbones, down her torso until they reached her desire.

"Well now, that just won't do."

He lifted his scaly hand from the globe and watched as the scene dissipated. Sidney was a stupid man. Did he really believe a man as powerful as Rumplestiltskin himself could so easily be fooled?

Honestly.

It seems they had forgotten just what the dark one was capable of. Not for much longer.

Letting out a high giggle, Rumplestiltskin turned to face the expanse of the grand hall cringing once again at the pristine grandeur of it all. Living in the White castle for the last 18 years had been far less than charming – pun entirely intended –given the fact that Rumple had to work far toohard in order to ensure his best interests were the main objective of his 'patrons' on the other side of the veil. The past few weeks had been void of contact from his most valued trustee, not even a glimpse at the state of her hair or makeup over the 21 days since their last discussion.

An unusual situation, indeed.

Rumple had found himself resorting to the next best option – Sidney. Fortunately, The insufferable man had been in his office at the time of Rumple's little 'check-in' – fuming rather loudly at his desk. Apparently the prophesized had found the savior. Oh, how plans unraveled wondrously.

It was time to pay a little visit to his prisoner.

Rumplestiltskin stalked his way through the halls, now entirely void of life. When the veil had first become sealed, it trapped Rumple in and amongst his devotees. Overpopulation didn't even begin to cover the situation. To be honest – that simply did not do.

He had killed the inadequate first – disciples that did not possess anything beneficial to the cause. After that, it had become a kind of game. It had been over in less than a day, and all he had to show for it was a pile of ash at his feet.

How unfortunate.

Turning the corner, Rumple stalked down the hall that once housed the royal bedchambers. What logic was it to place the entrance to the dungeon stairwell on the same level, let alone mere meters, from the door of their child's nursery? How daft must villains be in order for 'good' to always win? Having these incompetents for competition?

Reaching the door to the stairway, the scaly man paused, his hand resting on the half turned silver handle as he pondered a thought. He had always had a flare for the dramatic. Turning swiftly on his heel, he burst through the door of the unused nursery his eyes grazing for the perfect object. Spotting it, he stalked across the room, swept it off the shelf and continued on his way to the dungeon.

Rumplestiltskin reveled in the trek to the dank cellar of the castle, taking his time in lowering each foot to next step. The knowledge of the power coursing through his veins spurred him on. It may seem odd, walking through the vast layout of the castle rather than simply transporting himself – but Rumple found he quite enjoyed the symbolism. Demonstrating the expanse of his power without demonstrating the expanse of his power.

It was almost poetic.

Rumplestiltskin took the last step of the staircase with a hop, allowing a childish giggle to flitter from his lips and echo through the cell-lined passage – no doubt alerting his only prisoner to his presence. The wizard ensured each step echoed through the long hall, radiating a higher sense of power, until he reached the end – gazing down the small rock steps into the dark cavern that housed the most powerful cell.

He stopped, lifting the small figurine from the nursery to his face – allowing a small smile to mar his lips before transposing the object magically into the room just below. Rumplestiltskin waited a moment, always one for a dramatic entrance, before powering down the few steps and into the cavern itself.

The man was knelt on the floor of his cells, his body shrouding a small, glass unicorn that was held cradled to his chest. Seeing a once so powerful man on his knees was inspiring. The blonde hadn't noticed Rumplestiltskin's entrance; instead he remained crouched, silently weeping.

Pathetic.

"Why, your Majesty, should I return at a better time, perhaps?"

The sound of his impish voice broke the king from his revere, standing to his full size in a foolish attempt tat regaining his dignity. The wizard could only laugh, after all – the man was scantily clad in naught more than a rag, a scraggily beard overgrown on a once well-defined jawline. The man shook off his emotion, before holding the figurine out before him – a menacing look in his eye.

David opened his mouth to speak, but was swiftly interrupted as Rumple magicked the unicorn from his hand and into his own. Turning the figure through his fingers as he spun his back to the blonde, contemplating how worst to break the news.

"Well well, dearie. It seems, after all these years, I've finally found what I've been searching for."

The King's brow knit slightly in confusion, before his eyes drew to the figurine and fear and anger flooded his features.

"You'll never– "

"Uh-uh." Rumple turned suddenly, casting an amused gaze upon the caged man, "I'm not done. Through this… discovery" the man's voice took on a sing-song quality as he finished his spiel, "I'll be able to break the curse. And when I do? I'll make them pay." A scaled face took on a momentary expression of anger before morphing back into an amused, nonchalance, "Your daughter's exactly where I want her."

Satisfied, Rumplestiltskin turned to make his way from the cavern - only stopping once the King's voice resounded from behind him, "What can my daughter do to break this curse? She'll refuse – like her Mother and I. She would rather die than help you to be freed."

The man almost gagged with the lavishness of love the White Wizard held in his statement. The man had yet to meet his 18-year-old daughter, but has the audacity to state her beliefs as if he knows them as his own? After a life of abandonment and abuse? He would think not.

"That would be the point."

Rumple erupted into a cloud of dark purple smoke, leaving only the figurine to fall to the stone ground – smashing into an explosion of crystals upon contact.

She'd gotten the message loud and clear. It was obvious her daughter had known of the savior for some time, Regina would never speak a word of anything until she was absolutely certain – her mother did not tolerate disappointment. But just how long the connection had lasted between the two remained mysterious.

Up until now, that is.

How long Regina had known of the Queen, however, still troubled Cora immensely. The search for the savior had been everlasting, but the discovery of the Queen? That was one that astonished even her.

Her daughter had been useless from the beginning, really. Cora Mills had been a magical practitioner back in the kingdom, learning the most advanced of spells from the most powerful and teaching them to young children who held enough potential to intrigue her.

Her daughter was not one of them.

When Regina gained her magic, Cora had almost choked herself on the fact she now had the responsibility for teaching her incompetent daughter the inner workings of a magical mind. It had taken years for Regina to grasp the concept of a single transfiguration spell, let alone the advanced location spell she needed to uncover and complete the other half of the prophecy.

But now she understood. Together, both the Savior and her daughter were most powerful – unfortunate for Regina, perhaps, but necessary. This knowledge, and that of Regina's lesson with the blonde, was her motivation. After the realization Regina would not be returning home for some time, Cora sprung into action – gathering the seekers and convincing them of a time of action. It hadn't been difficult, however, accounting for the fact that she was surrounded by a flurry of half-witted peasants.

The only member that seemed troubled by the sudden flux of action was Belle, an interesting development. Cora knew of the task she had instilled on the girl – to befriend the savior's younger sibling in order to gain a broader insight of their target and her 'family' – but, at the time, had been blind to the feelings the younger woman held for the other. Just as she'd been unaware of her daughters own ever-growing infatuation with the savior.

Love was weakness. Cora had known this from a young age. It was far easier, living life without a heart. Not a feeling to cross before your decisions, not an emotion clouding your judgments. Although, often she found herself aware of the silence of her chest, the hole that once contained a vital organ empty and cold where it beat within a solid wooden box buried deep within the forest surrounding the kingdom of another land. Rather than a hindrance, the knowledge came with a sense of pride, a little 'pick-me-up' inspiration for a moment, a reminder of her sacrifice, a reminder of her control.

Control is power – without control, power is useless.

In the end, it had been easier to task Belle with the superfluous job of informing Regina of the groups whereabouts upon the occurrence of her daughter return to the house – which was the least likely happening, she was sure – than to drag the less-than-reluctant juvenile along with them. Cora had been brief – they were unsure just how much the woman had remembered or regained in the 17 years since the initial curse, so they were to be courteous. Ask the trigger questions, assess the reactions, line patterns of behavior. It was all essential to their case, she had reminded them, leave not a twitch unaccounted for.

They were just words, really. An empty set of instructions to keep the seekers busy. Cora knew the Queen far more intimately than any of the others would ever know. They were simply there to cover for her own actions – a group of reassurances rather than a woman of hateful remarks, she'd say. It wouldn't take long for her to figure out the Great White Witch's condition and just how much the woman was intending to expose. A lifetime of observation, a lifetime of planning, had gone into this, and Cora was not willing to let any of that go to waste. Not now, not ever.

She lifted her hand to knock on the plain, wooden door of the tiny house – cottage– that contained the woman they sought. The knock resounded, unanswered for only a moment, before the door gave way to the distraught face of a petite woman.

"Emma?"

The woman's face fell as she took in the group standing on her doorstep, rather than the blonde hair of her daughter. Cora almost chuckled aloud at the sheer hope the Queen held in her voice for the return of her daughter, delighted by the despair the situation forced upon the woman. Snow White brought her hand up to flatten the obnoxiously unruly situation of her pixie-cut, before focusing a sorrow-filled gaze on Cora.

"Sorry, I'm really not in a financial situation to support any causes at the moment."

The woman moved to close the door, only to have it intercepted by a long, heeled boot. She lifted a confused gaze to the older woman, only now noticing the large book she had tucked to her chest. 'Once Upon a Time'. Cora watched as the Queen's face filled with fear and then confusion. The younger woman stood dumbfounded, unsure of what to say in order to retreat from the situation in which they were headed. Finally, the witch straightened her posture, but spoke words filled with anxious uncertainty.

"Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry darling. Cora Mills." The latter lifted her arm, prepositioning herself for a handshake, mock smile in place. The White Queen raised her own, tentatively gripping the older woman's and shaking, glancing around at the further company, "This is Tinkerbell, Maleficent, Killian and Kathryn. We're members of the seekers, and I do quite believe we need to have ourselves a little… discussion."

So throw me a line, somebody out there help me.

I'm on my own; I'm on my own.

Throw me a line; I'm afraid that I have come here

To win you again, with trembling hands.

With trembling hands.