A/N: Hope this reads alright; it was written over a couple of days which isn't usually how I do things. But, I'm glad to be back at this now that I've finished my paper! I've got several ideas for the next few chapters, so I'm excited! (Admittedly, anything is more exciting than writing about hormone serum markers!) So I hope you enjoy, and comments would be lovely :)

"Daniel's house."

"Oh..."

Emma stops peering around in favour of studying the brunette uncertainly, and Regina offers her a helpless shrug as she isn't sure what more to say. She has kept most of her memories of Daniel to herself as a general rule, save for the circumstances surrounding his death, and it feels slightly surreal to be sat in the cottage she remembers so painfully well without having been allowed time to prepare for the mental blow she currently suffers.

"Oh."

The blonde repeats, lowering her eyes uncomfortably, and the Mayor studies her pensively; the younger woman's expression currently very far removed from her vampish attire.

"...I don't think it would occur to her to look for us here."

Regina muses quietly in order to break the silence, rubbing small circles with her thumb over the pad of the finger the blonde had so recently cut open.

Cut deep.

"Let's hope."

Emma agrees without looking up.

"To be honest, I wonder if she even has those memories. Or rather, I wonder if they would affect her... I don't think she cares about anything. I think she knows- she knows what I know- but I don't think she cares."

"...I don't know."

The blonde muses quietly, her stomach forming a tight knot as she recalls her little trick with the diary. At the time, it had felt deliciously enjoyable to get her own back following several rounds of losing to the Evil Queen's power trip, but now she just feels obscenely guilty.

Which is how Regina has told you countless times she feels when past circumstances are brought up...

Meeting the brunette's dark gaze solemnly, she elaborates uncomfortably

"I think she cares. Maybe not in the way that you do, but I think she feels something... Maybe it's an absence of feeling. Like what you said about feeling proud when you maybe shouldn't. Maybe she doesn't feel a whole lot about Daniel, but maybe that lack of emotion about something she once cared about has left a hole, and that part hurts."

"... That's quite a few 'maybes' in defence of one so terrible."

Regina muses quietly.

"I'm not defending her, I'm just sharing a theory."

Emma frowns, and when the Mayor simply raises a brow, she sighs and turns her attention moodily towards the window.

"... It's not just a theory. Not entirely... I did something bad."

She admits, and the darker woman's brow arches higher as she studies her companion curiously.

"Bad?"

"Yeah... You said you don't want to know what the Queen's been up to, and I guess maybe I should be a little more understanding of the fact. I suppose I really don't want you to know what I've been up to, either."

"Oh?"

"No... You know me; I can take a lot, but I have a limit- everyone does- and if pushed too far, I'll fight back, and fight to win. The Queen decided on the nature of the game, and once pushed to my limit, I played a hand. Trying to come at her with a different game hadn't worked, so... I played a move to match her own."

Emma confides, nibbling her lip as she observes the way the blood crusted above the brunette's mouth remains smeared by their kiss.

"... I do know you."

Is all that Regina says, considering Emma's confession uneasily and feeling suddenly much too warm. She's unsure whether the blonde expects more from her in light of her admission, but she doesn't quite dare meet her gaze to find out. A million questions flood her mind as she unwraps the younger woman's carefully packaged words to expose what they truly mean, and she finds herself accosted with the same memory Emma been struck by not long ago.

The diner on our way home from New York. We left the kids inside so that we could get some fresh air and check-in with each other without having to keep our concerns PG. I'm not sure which one of us moved in closer- perhaps we both did- but suddenly her hip was flush with mine and we weren't talking anymore; only drinking each other in. I came so close to kissing her, but I didn't. I didn't want to be wrong, and I didn't want to get in the way of her relationship after being so furious with her for messing with mine... Later, I spun a different story. Later, I told myself not to be so foolish- I'd never intended to make a move on her or do anything of the sort- but the truth was- the truth is- I'd secretly hoped she might kiss me.

"I'm sure you had a good reason for doing whatever it is you did."

She muses softly, looking back up to meet green eyes that don't quite offer her the affection and kindness she's grown used to, but don't seem as furious as they had back in the dungeon either.

"That's what I tend to say about you."

Emma replies stiffly, and Regina crosses her arms uncomfortably over her chest as she confides

"And I sincerely hope you still mean it, although I'm beginning to wonder... What you said back in the castle; that I let bad things happen to you... Lily expressed the same opinion."

"Lily?"

The blonde frowns.

"Yes. I asked her if she'd seen you once I figured something wasn't right. I suppose I could have asked Hook, but... I just felt I'd be better off asking someone else. She came back with me to yours when I told her about the basement door and the cuff. Before I let her in on those details, she didn't seem especially concerned that you were nowhere to be found. She suggested that perhaps you were just ignoring me... I assured her that I couldn't think of any reason why that would be the case- why you'd be angry with me- and she made it fairly clear that there are plenty of reasons you might be angry with me..."

"... That's her opinion."

Emma muses finally, and when she catches the wariness with which Regina studies her, she sighs.

"I'm not going to apologise for what I said to you down in the dungeon, because there might be some truth to it. There probably is... What I will say is that it's not something I spare a great deal of interest. It's not something that plays on my mind while pretending to like you or trust you... I do like you. I do trust you. Our relationship consists of the time we've known each other, and I honestly don't spend a great deal of energy considering any influence you might have had before that. I mean, it's come up, of course it has, in the crazy shit we've dealt with, but on a regular day- on a Tuesday- it's not like I'm sat talking to you with a bunch of niggling resentment doing a number on the back of my mind... I don't know if you've noticed, Madame Mayor, but I'm really not that subtle!"

"But, then... Why are you so angry with me?"

"I let her get to me. The Queen... Not straight away; I let a shitload of her little comments about you- about us- slide, and, if I'm being brutally honest, I've heard a lot of them before. From Lily, from my parents, from Archie... From Hook... Still, I've never taken especially fondly to people telling me how it is I should feel or what I should think, and aside from initially trying to convince me I was the scourge of the earth, you're generally one of the few people to resist the urge to play shrink. You listen when I want you to, and you offer me advice when it's asked for... Well, apart from in the fashion department. I've never asked for your opinion there, but you've always been all too keen to give it... I could let most of the Queen's comments go because I simply don't agree with a lot of them, and the rest... That's just not anything I want to get into... It wasn't just comments, though. She got into my head; literally got into my head. She fucked around in there and she saw stuff. My stuff. My shit, my baggage, my personal stuff! And, while she was seeing it, I was seeing it; all of it. All the shit I try not to think about- that I don't think about, not anymore- it all came up and she was part of it. She was watching it. Enjoying it. Violating it. Violating me; my fucking mind! She ripped that shit up and spat out how none of it would have happened if it weren't for her. If it weren't for you-"

"Emma, I-"

"-And I got mad. Really, really mad. I am mad. But... I don't know... I knew something was off when I thought you might be upset down in the dungeon. I could see you were upset."

"Of course I was upset! That surprised you!?"

"No, what I mean is... I cared that you were upset. I didn't think I would. I was so certain I'd had this fucking epiphany up in the bedroom of who you were and how awful you've been for me, but then, when I saw that you were unhappy- that my snapping at you was making you unhappy-... It didn't feel so good. I tried telling myself that it did, but it took way too much convincing to ring true... And, I guess, being here now, in this place; I know what this is to you. What it means to you. I feel a lot of things sat here watching you look around this cottage, but not one of them is especially joyous... None of it's victory. None of it's spite... And maybe that's just because I've never really been prone to thinking that way, but I think mostly it's because it's not you that's responsible for any of this. I know it's not. It's not you that did those things I saw; that caused those things. Being confronted with every awful thing I can remember rattled me, and being told I was staring the culprit- the culprits- dead in the eye got to me. It got to me and I'm not so innocent in how I reacted... I'm just so fucking angry that she did what she did; I'm angrier about that than anything she's done otherwise, and none of it's been especially pleasant... Well..."

The blonde clears her throat awkwardly before continuing in a firm voice

"What she saw; what she claimed were consequences of The Curse- what others have sometimes claimed were consequences of The Curse- they're not. Not really. I mean, sure, maybe ending up in jail was tied up in what August told Baelfire and fuck knows what other madness, but it didn't have anything to do with Neal's decision not to even leave a fucking note. That was on him, not on destiny and what some weird wooden dude suggested might be a good idea. It was him... Similarly, the fact that I got the shitty end of the deal while in the foster system isn't anything to do with you. Not having my parents around? Sure, you had your hand in that, but the rest? My experience in the system beyond that? That had more to do with how difficult I made life for the few people that were decent to me. The fact that I got myself thrown out of two schools and five apartments? Again; it had nothing to do with you. None of it did. If I start thinking that way, then I completely disregard my intuition, my gut and my free-will, and those are some of the few things I have going for me... I'm angry the Queen involved herself in my memories the way that she did, but I'm reminded now that I've been allowed a moment to actually think straight that I never allowed her- never allowed you- any sort of role in that crap before now. My past; my decisions and their consequences, that's my business... I'm not angry with you. I'm sorry for thinking that I was."

"Don't be ridiculous."

Regina replies gently, feeling an immense wave of relief as she finally recognises the blonde beneath her icy shell, and she offers the younger woman a kind smile that morphs into a grimace as the blood coating her lip cracks and flakes.

"You need to clean yourself up."

Emma informs her quietly, and she rolls her eyes as she swipes at her lip before summoning a wet rag with a flick of her wrist.

"You could do with taking your own advice."

She scolds with a pointed glance at the dried gore colouring the younger woman's throat.

"What did happen there?"

She asks belatedly, and Emma shrugs as she scrubs at her face with the back of her hand.

"I had the Queen locked in the cell, but she tricked me. I got cocky, I guess. She took her chance when I stupidly handed it to her to switch places, and she did it with a fair deal of force. Next thing I know, I have a mouthful of blood and it hurts to breathe."

"But you're okay now?"

Regina asks quietly.

"Yeah, I told you, I sorted myself out."

Emma grumbles, but she does so with a great deal less venom than when she'd snapped at the brunette before, and the darker woman lowers her bloodied rag with a sigh.

"You know I had to ask."

"Yeah, I know... Honestly, I'm mildly impressed with myself; I haven't done much healing before, and I didn't really know where to start! I just kind of focused on where hurt until I heard a crunch and it got easier to pull in air."

"A crunch?!"

The brunette shudders, shaking her head despairingly when the younger woman simply shrugs.

"Yeah, kind of. I guess maybe you might have dealt with it with more finesse, but it seems sorted."

"Good... And I don't know if that's true. I struggled when trying to close your wounds in the dungeon, although I've dealt with much worse. If not for the fact that my finger seems fine, I might be inclined to begin questioning my power."

"How so?"

"Well, between the scars left on your legs and the one on my arm, I'm not coming across as especially talented when it comes to healing... And I'm talented at all aspects of magic."

"And so modest."

Emma teases lamely, relieved beyond measure to be faced with this version of the brunette she knows so well, but unable to help herself as her attention falls again and again to the reddened promise of full lips.

"... What happened to your arm?"

She asks a little hoarsely, willing herself to behave as she wonders just how accurate the Queen's portrayal of her better half's ecstasy had been.

Leave it! What's happened here, back in the castle, that's something you're going to have to put behind you. Now is not the time! It likely won't ever be the time! We'll talk about things- about us- but that's as far as anything is bound to go, so fucking quit it. There's more at stake right now than finding out if the noises the Queen made are comparable to the real thing.

She nips the tip of her tongue; watching as the brunette pulls back the sleeve of her jacket while the Queen's cruel instance that she's far from happy with her life back in Storybrooke plays on her mind without any consideration of her inward plea that it desist and leave her alone.

"Hardly an impressive wound, but a wound all the same. Well, what remains of it."

Regina replies- oblivious to the younger woman's inner torment- and she holds out her arm to showcase the hairline imperfection a couple of inches below her wrist.

"What, uh... What am I looking at?"

Emma frowns, leaning forward, and the brunette sighs as she sits back and regards the younger woman irritably.

"Are you being serious, or just annoying?"

"Can't I be both?"

The blonde grins- a strained grin, but a grin- and when this response does little to sweeten the Mayor's sour expression, she yields obediently

"There's a mark, which, judging by your annoyance, wasn't there before."

"Correct... A mark made on your behalf."

"What do you mean?"

Emma frowns.

"Well, dear, how did you think I got here? I had to show some willingness to retrieve the princess."

"You know I hate it when you call me that?"

"Certainly."

Regina agrees, enjoying the way the younger woman narrows her eyes irritably; playing her part in their familiar back-and-forth rather than leaving her out in the cold as she has done since her arrival. Continuing in a more serious tone, she explains

"I had to figure out a way to get here. After talking to Gold, I was fairly certain you'd be here- in the Enchanted Forest, at least- but it's never been easy for any of us to travel across realms as you know... Something which might have been helped if Mal hadn't decided to keep quiet for once in her life."

Regina sighs waspishly, and the blonde continues to study her with her eyes narrowed; the playfulness so recently adding some camaraderie to their conversation suddenly nowhere to be seen.

"Maleficent? Gold?... Just how many people are involved in all this?"

"As few as I could manage without being negligent."

The Mayor snaps defensively, offering Emma a warning look before elaborating stiffly

"I told you, Miss Swan; I did what I could in that respect. I refrained from alerting your parents that I thought something was amiss, and I kept my replies very evasive when questioned by Henry and by Hook. I involved Lily as I considered her a safe bet for keeping things to herself, and I went to see Gold as he was already aware something was amiss, and I was troubled- deeply- by finding the cuff... Involving Mal was Lily's idea, but one that I'd argue paid off in the end, as it seems the others know a trick or two about navigating the lands that we don't. If I hadn't have asked her, it's likely I would still be in Storybrooke right now, and you would still be trapped down in that dungeon bleeding like a stuck pig."

"I think the cuts were in celebration of your arrival..."

Emma mutters, but she accepts that Regina is telling her the truth about trying her best to keep a low profile, which she supposes serves to answer one glaringly obvious question, and yet...

It doesn't... Not really.

"... If you spoke to Hook as you said, why not ask him what was going on? Of anyone that would be likely to know where I might be, surely that would be the most obvious place to start?"

She reasons, and Regina thins her lips as she tentatively reads the blonde's tone as inquisitive rather than argumentative.

Which isn't really any better in this case!

"Because... I know well enough that Hook doesn't like me, Miss Swan, so involving him didn't seem like a wise idea... I will admit I hadn't realised quite how much Lily despised me when choosing to approach her instead."

She shrugs, meeting the younger woman's pensive gaze warily.

"... I don't know if that's true that Killian doesn't like you."

"I think it's true when it comes to any situation involving my spending time with you. I know it's true... So do you."

"Why would he not like the fact I have a friend? Isn't that what you're supposed to want for people you care about?"

"... You know why."

Regina replies bluntly, and she wonders if Emma might just come out and say whatever it is she seems to have on her mind as she frowns down at the table, before the younger woman looks back up at her wearily and repeats

"What happened to your arm, Regina?"

"...The Gift of Sevens."

The Mayor sighs. She would like to say a lot more on the subject of Hook, but- as always- she doesn't quite dare, especially when she has only recently won the blonde back on side.

"The what?"

Emma frowns.

"The Gift of Sevens."

Regina repeats, glancing around the room uneasily, before casting a cloaking spell over the two of them with a flick of her wrist. She doubts it will do all that much to protect them if the Queen manages to track them down, but she's wary of being overheard- however unlikely- when she elaborates quietly

"It's the spell I used to get here. Nowhere near as convoluted as the methods- and mistakes- we've used before, but it's a charm that never occurred to me until Mal mentioned it. Seven drops of blood in exchange for seven hours of time; plus what was needed to create a porthole through to this realm. I used the mirror in my bedroom back home and created a blood seal around the frame. I then applied seven drops of blood to the candle binding me to Storybrooke in exchange for seven hours to get you back... It's why I need to know how long we've been here. I set an alarm, but my phone smashed when the Queen locked us up, and even if I repair it, I don't know how much time to account for while it was broken... My new strategy is just to get us out of here as soon as possible."

She splays her palms, and Emma nods in agreement as she looks around uneasily.

" I'd say that's a fairly good plan either way... How do we get back?"

"Simple; we go back the way I came... Of course, it's less simple when we're being hunted by a woman who will do anything in her power to keep you here... Myself too, but probably for different reasons."

The Mayor muses, before falling uncomfortably silent. The severity of the situation hadn't really occurred to her when making her flippant comment- she had merely meant that the Queen might prefer to keep her subdued rather than relish in her torment- and she glances up to meet cool green fretfully as she recalls the state in which she'd found the blonde.

"You'd hope."

Emma agrees bitterly, but the nervousness that alights dark eyes as the brunette realises belatedly what she's said fills her more with discomfort rather than anger, and she changes the focus of conversation swiftly.

"Well... Seven hours isn't that bad. I know we've lost some of that time already, but if we know what we're doing, we should be fine. We just need to figure out a distraction or something."

"I hope so... And you're right. I was worried I'd get here and then have to find you. I had hoped you would remain in the castle- I was almost positive that's where you'd have come through after talking to Gold- but luck has rarely been on our side with these things... I was worried I would have to spend time searching for you, and then, when I found you down in the dungeon and saw how things were... I was just worried we might not find a way out in time."

Regina half-lies. It's true, she had panicked when locked in the cell with the blonde; all too aware of the passing of time. It hadn't just been that, though. Once she'd understood how furious Emma was and how closed off to her she seemed intent on remaining, she had feared she might be forced to spend valuable time just trying to convince the younger woman to listen to her.

To trust her.

"... We generally come out on top when we work together."

Emma muses, her attention roaming once again to full lips as she nips at her own.

"Is that what we're calling your panicked assault?!"

Regina laughs; too harshly, too loud.

"It worked, didn't it?"

Emma growls, and the brunette nods, wondering what would have happened if it hadn't- if they'd had to commit more fully to their act- while trying to ignore the warm, fluttering sensation in her stomach.

"It did, as did my spell. I can feel a connection to home, and so long as that sensation exists, the door back to Storybrooke remains open. Everything will be fine, provided we can create a distraction, and the Queen doesn't figure out how or where I came through... I know this... Experience... Has been rough, but we'll get through it. It will be fine. We'll be home in no time."

Regina assures quietly, and the blonde pulls a face very far removed from elation.

"Yeah."

She agrees half-heartedly, before catching the uncertain frown the brunette offers her and striving to lighten the mood.

"I just can't believe you cut yourself to come get me."

She muses, holding out her hand in the silent request that Regina allow her another look at the delicate scar running down her forearm.

"I was hoping you'd be impressed."

Regina admits and she shakes her head with a small smile as Emma chuckles darkly; enjoying the amused wrinkle of the blonde's nose while suffering an internal battle between wistfulness and relief.

"I never said I was impressed."

The younger woman grins, flashing the sharp point of her tongue when the brunette scowls at her, before considering their unlikely surroundings with a sigh.

"I never said it, but then, as you yourself said; you know me well. you know I don't always vocalise how I feel."

Oh, hell, isn't that the truth?!

"...I know."

Regina smiles, pulling her sleeve back down.

Yes, I know that, dear. I know that all too well...

The brunette sighs as she drinks in pale features accented with dark makeup and traces of blood; all the more shocking in contrast to silver curls and black leather that has her shifting surreptitiously in her seat.

"What do we do now?"

She asks quietly, and Emma returns her gaze intently, before finally replying in a low voice

"That kind of depends on what you mean..."

Standing at the foot of the dungeon steps, the Queen seethes furiously as she considers the empty cell so recently containing her spoils. She can see dried droplets of the blonde's blood dappling the dirt, and the wet glisten of the Mayor's slathered on the bars of the door.

"Bitches. Foolish bitches!"

She curses beneath her breath; unable to accept what she has allowed to happen.

That sly little wretch...

She grits her teeth until she tastes copper. She had been so certain that one of the two would crack as she had cloaked herself in shadow and observed Emma and Regina leaning in towards one another, whispering. Yes, the blonde had remained furious, and she had been uncertain whether the Saviour might lash out or submit to her baser desires; either option promising its own perverse entertainment. She had felt a wave of dark elation upon watching the younger woman give in to her need; demanding a taste of the Mayor and pulling at her roughly; wantonly willing herself to be topped.

Just as you fantasise about her doing. Just as you urged such domination from myself in a pathetic bid to sate your need.

I thought you'd finally found a backbone, dear, and decided to take what you wanted...

She crouches down and swipes her finger through the Mayor's blood.

I gave you a choice, you miserable whelp; fuck her or gut her. I gave you the knife... I gave you the damned knife...

She curls stained ruby fingers into a fist as she loathes the absolute guile of Saviour's betrayal. She had offered the bitch a chance to get her own back- in a manner of speaking- and the hateful woman had played a hand she had believed she'd stamped out all possibility of.

I served her on a plate for you... Or you for her, although that seemed a lot less likely.

I trapped you with your darkest fantasy, in spite of your little trick with the viper... With the diary... With the crop...

You were supposed to fuck her.

You were supposed to hurt her.

... You weren't supposed to help her! I made sure of it; I made you what you are now.

I made you hate.