A/N: Sorry this took a while, I worked fairly extensively on it, so I hope it's up to scratch.

Chapter 36:

Regina was not one for existential crises.

In her life so far, she'd faced dire situations and crippling grief, but had never once lost her way. She made a habit of fixing her sights on something; a goal, an achievement, and that would push her forward. Through her childhood, it was to get out from under her mother's wing, or talons, as it turned out. She wanted to be a princess, as Cora had promised she would be. She wanted to be happy and independent and free, in a world that glowed and shone and with a prince she would love, and who would love her more as each year passed. She dreamed of splendour and glamour, as most little girls do, she wanted to sit and read for hours, to ride when she wished, to chose her own dresses, and most of all, to never have to listen to her mother shout, or feel her abuse. Her prince would protect her. He would never raise a hand against her, or turn away from her. He would never tell her what to do. He'd be a companion, not a master.

And then had come Daniel, and she had realized that princes came from different places in different forms. He was her saviour. And from then on, her goal had been to run away with him. She gave up fantasies of palaces; she didn't need them anyway. She didn't mind where she lived out the rest of her days, as long as he was there with her. Freedom is what she longed for then.

When her mother had torn the heart of her true love out of his chest, her goal shifted in a moment of agony and fury. She would have her vengeance. She would escape her mother's clutches, she would marry the King, she would get closer and closer to Snow White, she would gain power and status, and then she'd strike down all who had once wronged her, and anyone who planned to in the future. She'd destroy them all, if it were the last thing she did.

And look where she was now.

She was lost. She felt a kind of black fog creeping in out of the corner of her eye. She felt tiny, like clinging to the last bit of dry rock as the tide comes in. The walls around her stretched before her eyes, the darkness grew darker and the soft firelight of the evening seemed to be swallowed. She perched on the edge of her borrowed four-poster bed in her borrowed nightgown, dark hair spilling over her shoulders in loose curls. She didn't look like a murderer or a queen then, she looked like the child she had once been; quiet and obedient and frightened of her mother and frightened to leave her mother. She had to get moving and quickly, this hanging around in comfort was giving her time to think, and she didn't like where those thoughts were heading.

What was she to do after all of this was over? Where would she go? Who would she be? Could she make something out of her life or would she live the remainder of it drowning in regret?

She wrapped her arms around herself protectively, a mannerism that was becoming more and more frequent in her subconscious movement these days. She thought of the gaping emptiness and ambiguity of her future, and where it once thrilled her to know it was entirely hers to control and shape, as it should be, the weight of the unknown now crushed her until she felt anyone passing may trample her.

She thought of Emma. She thought of some poor six-year-old child trembling in a dungeon somewhere. She thought of a boy with Emma's blonde hair and green eyes and inquisitive, determined expression. His safety, his freedom, perhaps his very life was now dependent on Regina, and in a way this thought soothed her. Her future wasn't purposeless, she had a goal; she must do everything in her power to save that innocent child, to free him from a crippling isolation and terrorised childhood that was likely an extreme version of what she herself had experienced. She would save Emma's son, or die trying.

Dying didn't seem so scary anymore. At least it was final. At least it had an end.

And Emma, what would become of her? Would the forest thief settle down and raise her child, an unusual but otherwise content family? Would she try to find his father? Would she be honest? Would she be practical? Would she be both? Would Regina ever know?

Emma, with her arrogant smirk and hard expression hiding that single glimmer, that one wisp of weakness. Regina had seen it, if only briefly, when she'd said her son's name for the first time in her presence, when Hook's dark, accusing eyes bore into green with intensity she could never match. It was brimming, fighting, pushing against the surface, when she returned from the enchanted lake. Regina still did not know what had happened there, but it had changed her, however slightly, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to know what she had experienced in that mysterious place. She'd seen that weakness, the weakness Emma never let anyone see, when her eyes widened and were left open and vulnerable as she stumbled back, raising a hand to her lips, cheeks flushed, after wrenching herself away from Regina's lips. It was a weakness that, in that moment, Regina had felt was mirrored perfectly in her own eyes.

They weren't so different. She thought that Emma did get scared. Losing her son scared her. Losing her mind scared her. Losing her strength scared her. Losing scared her.

And somehow, a part of Regina scared her.

And there she was.

For a moment, Regina believed her thoughts had become so consuming that her imagination had conjured Emma up, but no, there she stood, in the doorway, in thin, loose fitting trousers and shirt that she slept in. Her hair had been brushed out of the style it had been pinned into for dinner, and it was more volumous than usual, framing her face, expression neutral as ever, yet there was a grim down turn to her mouth, and a frown etched onto her brow.

"You somewhere else entirely, princess?"

Yes, I was just thinking about how the sight of you no longer brings me dread, but instead comfort. How you are the only stable thing in my life at the moment. How, somewhere along the line, I've gone from fighting so hard to be rid of you as quickly as possible to missing waking up next to you and your safety. I was elsewhere, I was somewhere where everything makes sense and everything's black and white and hate is hate and love is love and no one ever mixes the two. I was somewhere where you were happy, and I was happy, and we were not making each other unhappy. I was somewhere where you had your son and I had the confidence to move on and forget that you gave me back my diamond bracelet that my father gave me, that you insisted I take my dress off to keep warm, that you traced the line of my spine when lacing up my corset and the shape the teeth left on my leg, that you smiled at me before the battle on the Jolly Roger like it was the easiest thing in the world and that you forgot who I was for just a second, once, maybe, that you make me laugh and make me scream and that you have made me feel stupid and inadequate so many times and you accepted everything I threw back at you, that you told me about your past, that you let me sleep on the bed, that you took a knife in the thigh to protect me, that I cried when I thought you were dying, that I told you about the most painful moment of my life like I could trust you, that I forced you up against a tree because the taste of your lips changed something in me, that you've inexplicably and undeniably touched me, altered me, and I think it's too late to take it back.

"Yes, somewhere else."

Emma pushed herself off the doorframe and walked slowly towards the Queen. She tilted her head on one side, and stood to observe Regina for a moment, before hesitantly sitting down beside her.

Emma fidgeted. She didn't know how to even begin to talk to this woman after she'd left herself so vulnerable the last time they spoke. Regina's firelit face was weary, like some wise deity; beautiful and tired of the tribulations of humanity.

"He has his daughter."

Regina glanced at Emma, and the slight tugging together of her eyebrows indicated her question sufficiently for Emma to offer an answer.

"The monster we're after has taken Lord Maurice's daughter. Belle, her name is. I've heard talk of her, actually; kind and beautiful, I hear, but then again it's not unusual to hear that about a lord's daughter. He took her in exchange for saving Lord Maurice's land from the ogres. She went willingly, I believe, but she's his prisoner. I promised him that we would rescue her if we could, that we would save her along with Henry."

Regina processed the information then nodded. "It explains his misery. I suppose you can relate."

Emma's lips set in a line, and nodded barely. "We have to try."

"We will."

The awkwardness was thick like smoke in the air between them. Regina stared emotionlessly into the fire. Emma stared at Regina not quite so emotionlessly.

"Do you blame yourself?"

Regina dragged her eyes away from the flames and regarded Emma with caution, before sighing deeply, like a woman twice her age might.

"I did at first. I thought that if I had only been more careful, if I had only stood up to mother, then I wouldn't have lost him. Then my anger overtook everything, and I blamed the girl. It was her fault indirectly, after all. I've always known it was mostly my mother's fault, she physically pulled his heart out of his chest, then wed me to the father of his indirect killer." She swallowed hard, and shook her head, looking down into her lap. "I don't know who I blame anymore. It was a long time ago, and hatred has blinded me to many things. Grief means that it doesn't matter whose fault it was, only that someone be held accountable so you don't feel quite so helpless."

Emma nodded gently. She could see a lifetime of agony in the unfamiliar slump of Regina's shoulders, the tension in her jaw, the sadness in endlessly dark eyes, the only light in them the flickering reflection of the fire.

"I suppose, I should have been more careful…I should have…but I didn't –"

Regina's voice wavered and broke, and Emma was horrified to see a tear crawl down her cheek. The ground was wrenched from beneath her. No, no she couldn't see her cry. This was too far, too intimate, too real. She could perhaps convince herself that she had never seen a real emotion of Regina's, that they were not yet at the stage that came with a backstory. That single tear, winding its way down smooth skin, was a confirmation of everything Emma had feared. It meant that Regina didn't bother smothering it anymore. It meant she no longer cared if Emma saw her weakness. It meant she no longer feared exposure. It meant, finally, trust.

That was what caused Emma to reach up and brush it away without thinking. She wouldn't have it. She wouldn't make her uncomfortable and vulnerable because she was curious, because at some point, making her upset was no longer fun.

"I'm sorry, Emma. I'm sorry that all this has happened to you. Please accept my apology because it's likely to be the only one I give you." Regina sniffed.

The blonde just nodded. They both knew Regina had done little to apologise for, but she needed some sort of redemption, and so Emma kept quiet.

The Queen shook her head and gave a bitter laugh.

"We're quite a match, you and I, dealing with heartbreak through anger and violence."

Emma smiled softly. "It's worked pretty well so far. We'd probably be dead if we weren't so broken."

Regina's eyes shifted focus, and Emma could tell her thoughts were far away.

"Was Henry's father your true love?"

Emma was a little shaken by the question, and frowned at the other woman, who still looked away.

"My…my 'true love'?"

Regina nodded. "I was told by a friend of mine when I was younger that you have one true love. Everyone else is just build-up or let-down."

Emma frowned. "Forgive me if I don't take your friend's word for it."

"She was a fairy."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Of course she was."

Regina smiled, and the tightness of it looked like self-loathing.

"You think Daniel was your 'true love'?"

The brunette sighed heavily. She knew Daniel had been her true love. Her thoughts drifted back to the camp in the forest, the ease with which she talked to Robin Hood, the strange tingling of her skin, the glimpse of a tattoo on his arm that could have been a lion. Magic was at work, that she knew, and Tinkerbelle had promised a second chance at true love. However, Regina had been scared. She had been scared for her heart and didn't want another chance. Daniel was her true love; that was it for her. Her opportunity had left with the light in his eyes. She didn't need the fairy's magic, forged in pity, to lead her to another. If Robin had been the one she was destined to start anew with, then she'd no doubt made a huge mistake in leaving him without so much as a word. Still, at the time it hadn't felt right. He had been handsome and charming and kind, he'd shown them every cutesy, but something turning in the bottom of her stomach dragged her away from him. Had she sacrificed all her potential happiness because she was scared? Because she was stubborn? Because she didn't need another "true love"?

"There's no such thing. You love as many people in your life as you let yourself."

Regina shook her head. "Not me. There was just the one. He was perfect, and now he's gone."

Emma narrowed her eyes, disbelieving. "Maybe he was perfect, but from my experience of love, it's usually far from perfect. 'True love' is something couples say to reassure each other there's no one else, when there always could be."

"We're all slaves to fate."

"Bullshit." Regina started slightly at Emma's harsh tone. "Fate, destiny, magic; they have nothing to do with it. No one gets to choose who they love. Nothing does. Fate and destiny don't get a say either. It just happens."

Regina was clearly agitated, but there was an inherent exhaustion in her less-than-pristine posture, a clear difference to the usual, that implied she hadn't the energy to fully commit to a debate.

"I'll take that as a no."

"What?"

"Henry's father was not your true love."

Emma clenched her jaw. "No. He wasn't. We were far from perfect, but I loved him, and he loved me, for a time anyway. Even if it wasn't forever, and even if it wasn't a fairytale, I loved him all the same, so don't you dare tell me yours was more worthy, just because it was 'true'. No love is worthier than another. It doesn't work that way."

The conversation was giving Regina a stomach ache. This new world of motherless children and wolf-girls and one-handed pirates and lion tattoos became more tiresome the more familiar it got and she was uncomfortable with the idea that she was becoming comfortable with it all. She no longer ran from brambles and rainstorms, when she found herself lost in the woods she didn't cry, and if she was confronted with a band of outlaws threatening to take her jewellery again, she'd shoot an arrow through their hearts, a newly acquired skill, before she ripped them out.

She couldn't help but feel, however, that the darkness inside her had receded a little. Of course, she was harder, no longer a frightened little girl who waited for fairies and dark wizards to fix everything for her, but the anger and hatred that had bubbled so close to the pristine surface for so many years had ebbed. She was simultaneously tougher and softer, and the conflict was so confusing she wasn't sure if the result was good or bad.

"I think you know more than me on that count too. Your experience has become quite tiresome." Regina said monotonously.

Emma picked up on the sudden coldness. "Forget I said anything."

"No, you're right. I am not worthier. I am a child, as we have established, the millstone round your neck, and you are my disagreeable protector in this world of curses and crocodiles."

"You're not a child. You were when I met you. Things have changed…"

Regina shook her head and stood from the bed, walking to the mantelpiece with her back to Emma. The fire flickered against her nightdress, and her silhouette looked vaguely demonic.

"We leave tomorrow, I believe?"

"We do."

"And we shall be at the castle in two day's time, with the horses?"

"We shall…we should be…"

"And what then?"

"We rescue my son. We rescue my son and Lord Maurice's daughter."

"And then?"

"And then we part ways. Then I make sure you're somewhere safe and secret and we leave in different directions."

"Right. Good."

"Any idea where you want to go, princess?"

"Anywhere. Anywhere's better than here."

"Anywhere is just the same as here. Maybe not obviously, but there will always be people like Hook and the King and Lord Maurice…and me…"

"I'll have to watch out for them then."

"Sorry about that."

"Emma, you –"

Emma waited for the sentence that never came.

"I what?"

"…You must understand…I'm not good with gratitude…"

"I understand, princess."

They remained in suspended silence. The fire crackled in the hearth, and Regina stood over it, feeling the hot air on flushing cheeks and relishing in the sensation. Emma stayed perched on the end of the bed, positioned as she always was; ready to take flight if necessary. She'd been in more dangerous situations than she could count, but this was a whole new level of terrifying.

"I'm sorry for treating you like shit."

The apology came out of nowhere, and Regina visibly stiffened.

"I shouldn't have done that; your first time out of the palace walls and I made you feel scared and alone and I'm sorry. It's made you bitter, I can tell."

Regina shook her head, and the firelight caught her hair like molten metal and it made Emma's mouth go dry.

"It's made me stronger. I needed it. Enough of pity, it's for the weak. I can survive now, thanks to you and your harsh tongue."

More silence. Emma shifted restlessly.

"I think, in some twisted way, I'm gonna miss the arguments…" She said wistfully, almost as if she'd forgotten the other woman was present.

Regina, shocked at the confession but thankful she wouldn't have to be the first to breach this area, exhaled heavily.

"We did all right, the two of us." Emma continued.

Regina smiled. "Yes we did."

"You saved my life."

"And you mine."

"I'm not used to being saved. It doesn't suit me."

"It definitely didn't suit you then."

"Did you think about leaving me?"

Regina paused, and then felt the fire turn the honesty inside her to liquid, flowing from her lips.

"Yes. I did."

Emma nodded silently, numbly, as if she had expected it.

"I couldn't, though. I realized that. But I did consider it, if only for a moment." Her voice wavered slightly, then started to break. "You were nearly dead, Emma…you were…so nearly dead…I thought you would die –"

"I think I heard you. Somewhere, in the haze of everything, I think I heard you calling." Emma said, her voice quiet and contemplative.

"I called. I screamed. We were lucky I didn't attract the King himself, let alone his henchmen. I was so scared." She shook her head, then tilted her face towards the tall ceiling. "Imagine, I was so scared to stay with you, then within weeks I was terrified of losing you. Things change fast."

Emma licked her suddenly dry lips. "You would have been ok on your own, princess. You're stronger than you think, you're a survivor, and you've fought so hard I think it would be nearly impossible for them to stop you now."

Regina bristled at this. She had spent her whole life considering herself simultaneously superior and inferior to everyone around her, and hence did not know how to react to truly honest compliments.

"That isn't why." She said, and her tone was suddenly harsh. Her emotions were all over the place, and she felt guarded and vulnerable at the same time.

Emma swallowed. Her heart was thundering in her chest and she didn't know why. She remembered waking up in agony to wide, dark eyes, filled with worry and what she swore were tears. She remembered the siren and her teasing and her truths. She remembered Ruby's knowing look that spoke of more than Emma could comprehend. She remembered waking in terror in an inn only to look over and see the Queen sleeping next to her, as if she trusted her. She remembered the way her stomach burned and her eyes prickled and her teeth grinded as Regina spoke so openly with Hood, and then what she would call satisfaction when Regina turned away from him later that night, after she'd ruined everything in the most fantastic, magical and exhilarating way possible.

"That isn't why what?" Something in her thought it knew the answer.

"I wasn't worried about survival."

Emma supressed a shiver; this was no time for foolishness. This was no time for this to all come back and bite her like she knew it would eventually.

"You should have been. That should always be your first concern."

"Oh for fuck's sake." Regina sagged forward, forehead resting against one arm on the mantelpiece and the other falling at her side in defeat. The vulgarity of her language threw Emma.

"It never ends with you, does it? The belittling, patronising remarks, you have an endless supply! Maybe one day, if we're lucky, you'll get off your high horse and get some human perspective." She hissed downwards.

Emma bristled. She seemed to posses the ability to effortlessly turn an almost warm conversation into a dispute.

"I've got some perspective, princess. Survival; that's what's important. Out there in the real world, you're gonna have to fight for it. Everything else is trivial, and goddamnit I've tried so hard to make you realise that. Life is all that matters. My high horse is entirely justified." She retorted.

"'Life'?! What the hell does life matter if all you do is 'survive'? Life is worth nothing, Emma, it is pointless if all you're doing is surviving."

"Life is life. It's better than death. I'm so sick of your morbid theories, Regina, just live. Let yourself live. You don't need an excuse or a backup, just live because you are alive, because your instinct tells you you must. Live because death is nothing. Life is more valuable than anything."

Regina stood upright and put her hands on her hips. "You're so literal! So narrow minded!"

"I'm not narrow minded, I just think differently to you!" Emma had promised herself she wouldn't shout, but her voice was steadily approaching such a volume.

"You think of tomorrow only, and never what comes after it...you have so much freedom, but only see one path…and I hate you for it!"

"Do you?!"

"NO!" Regina spun to face Emma suddenly, the shifting light throwing shadows into the hollows of her cheeks, her eyes were wild, a mixture of anger and fear. Her chest heaved against silk, the colour high in her cheeks, and Emma stared straight back, brows set like stone over hard eyes.

The only lapse in the silence is symmetrical breathing as they sized each other up. A look of utter defeat spread across Regina's face, like the sun sinking finally below the horizon.

"No…no I don't…"

Emma's eyes burned like green fire, but as always, Regina did not flinch under their blaze.

"Not a bit…you know that…"

Emma nodded slowly, as if she was just coming to the realisation herself.

"Oh, I know, princess."

Regina shook her head, and the terror in her eyes was far from reassuring.

"No. This wasn't – this wasn't how this was supposed to go…I shouldn't – "

Emma shook her own head in response. "No. It seems like very little has gone according to plan."

Regina took an assured step forward, as if to approach, then thought better of it and stopped. She closed her eyes and shook her head again. Emma's head was beginning to throb.

"When – in the clearing…when they were surrounding us, and you were unconscious, they were going to kill us I was sure…I didn't know I was capable of what I did…but it just happened…I found it in me...because I had to give us a chance…I had to give you a chance…"

Emma nodded and swallowed, meeting Regina's gaze once more. Something sharp and suffocating had a hold of her heart and she didn't move for fear of letting it crush it.

"I'm…I'm not good with things like this…I just think you should know that – that you're actually quite incredible. Of course, you're insufferable and impossible and stubborn and disagreeable…but I realized that I didn't want you to die…and now I'm scared that the concern for your life wasn't for your own benefit, but for mine. I'm scared that I didn't want to lose you…and I'm scared that that's what's going to happen –"

"No. Stop…please…I – shit, Regina…" Emma was horrified to find tears on her cheeks, slipping from blurred eyes down her face. Regina looked similarly shocked, and almost remorseful, and that made them fall faster. Emma's head dropped forward and she tangled her hands in her hair in frustration. The Queen was the one for emotional breakdowns, not Emma, not the thief of the Enchanted Forest; indestructible and cold, and thus successful. She was not weak, and uptight, self-important, intelligent, beautiful queens certainly didn't make her so.

Regina nodded, mildly horrified at seeing Emma cry. "You're right…of course, this is…this can't – it wasn't supposed to…"

"I don't think 'supposed to' has anything to do with it..." Emma said, sitting upright and wiping her eyes. Regina remembered their conversation that must have been only a few minutes previously, but felt like centuries ago. No one gets to choose…

"Nothing will change." Regina stated, and her voice had a newfound strength behind it. "Nothing can change. Difficulty has nothing to do with it; it hasn't stopped us before."

Emma swallowed. She felt more tears spill and hated herself for her weakness. She determinedly blinked back more, and realized that the weight in her chest was heavier than it had been throughout the entire journey, as if the last two minutes of conversation had added more and more mass to its bulk. She felt it hovering at the edge of a sheer drop, like a cliff edge, teetering on the precipice, impossibly heavy, but so close to falling away forever. She struggled to breathe.

"I let you think you were worthless…" Emma choked out. "…I'm no better than your mother…I pushed you further and further back into your shell because I enjoyed it, it was empowering, the truth is I couldn't see what I was doing. I've been so stupid, and cruel, and so blind to what was happening that I –"

Regina shook her head, staying firmly rooted to the spot. The air was so heavy, the room so small, the distance so huge.

"We ripped and tore at each other so much that we didn't even notice when we started attacking ourselves."

An unexpected sob wrenched itself from Emma's throat and Regina's eyes filled with responding tears. The world was collapsing around them.

"I've done that my whole life." Emma managed. "I've fought because surrender means weakness and weakness means death…means failure. I shouldn't – you – I have no idea how but…but you're different. I mean, you're not different, it's chance, surely – you threw it all back at me. You were never scared of me. You waited so long to trust me…you….you're so much like me, as well as being my opposite…" This was exhausting for Emma, but as the weight increased, it also got closer to the edge.

Regina shook her head and mumbled something sharply to herself, and Emma didn't dare ask her to repeat it. She sighed and fisted her hands in her nightgown, and Emma stared at her because she couldn't help it anymore.

"I was scared of you. That's why I didn't tell you anything. That's why I was so hostile for so long. You scare me for no reason, no superficial worry of safety, anyway. It's a different kind of fear."

Emma slowly rose from the bed, and stood a respectable distance away from Regina.

"I would say you shouldn't be scared, but I'm not so sure anymore."

Regina nodded like she understood, and her gaze was like sharpened, shining steel. Emma felt herself tremble, somewhere deep in the core of her.

It was Regina's turn to allow her eyes to overflow, and she simply swallowed hard, setting her jaw as a couple of slow, lethargic tears crawled down flawless skin. Emma wasn't fully conscious of moving forward until she stood before Regina like an offering. Regina simply stared back, strong and defeated, exhausted and crackling with energy.

Regina shook her head resolutely as more gentle tears fell, breath trembling in her lungs.

"I'm not – I can't – Emma…"

Emma reached forward and found nothing but soft surrender under her fingertips, and she pulled the Queen into her, wrapping her arms around tense shoulders and feeling all hesitancy flee Regina as her own arms wound round Emma's waist.

The thief had no idea how they had gone from avoiding all physical contact wherever possible to freely embracing in Regina's bedchamber. It was more than a simple embrace too; it was like clinging to a wreckage. Regina shook in her arms, pulling Emma tighter against her, and the blonde strengthened her grip in response, and let her eyes slide closed as she buried her face in glossy dark hair, perfumed like lavender and luxury and lost hope and life itself.

It was like she could finally breathe. The weight trembled and intensified and got heavier and heavier and finally toppled, and she was clinging to Regina as she felt it fall, spiralling into somewhere that is irrelevant, because it was gone, and she realised then just how long it had been sitting there; just how long this had been brewing, the inevitability of it all.

So she wasn't surprised when she pulled away and Regina looked at her through entirely new eyes. There was nothing left to shock her. She remembered the pathetically brave, spoilt little thing that she found in the forest, the contempt she'd felt for days at her helplessness and pride, the anger that turned to bickering that was almost friendly, then quiet, muted admiration. Then she remembered the lust, the first stirrings in her lower stomach, she wasn't immune to physical beauty and a fiery temper and she hated herself for being so weak. She remembered the tentative friendship and camaraderie, then not so tentative, and it seemed like this was the natural progression of the whole experience, this crazy adventure that's taught her so much, and yet she was still surprised before now.

Regina raised her hand as if to touch Emma's face, then let it fall to her collarbone where it gently grasped the fabric of Emma's loose shirt. Emma swallowed and felt her cheeks grow warm. Regina gave a tiny shake of her head once more.

"Emma…"

It sounded like an excuse, like a caution, like a fear, like a secret. Emma did not know what to make of it, so she didn't move, merely let the atmosphere wrap itself around her, and she was suffocating yet floating. Her hands stroked down Regina's arms and rested at her elbows, reluctant to entirely let go of this whole new experience just yet.

In a culmination of everything that came before, Regina closed her eyes tightly, biting her lip in what appeared to be frustration. She leant forward so her forehead was pressed against Emma's in a way that was both slightly aggressive and slightly reluctant.

"I'm so sorry, princess…"

Regina trembled, like she would cry again, but she didn't. She moved even closer, or that might have been Emma, so their noses brushed and their breathing mingled and neither dared move, the air around them as fragile as glass.

"Don't be." Regina whispered into the heart of Emma.

Then, in the darkness and achingly slowly, Regina's lips touched Emma's, like the first spark of a fire in the thickest night.

A/N:What I write, or don't write in the next chapter is up to you. The rating is a safety net, and I've never written an M piece before, but if enough people ask, I'll have a go. Drop me a review and I'll decide.