Regina shut the door, palms pressed flat to the hard oak. Her chest rose and fell slowly as she breathed in the familiar scent of her bedroom. She focused on what was in front of her – the plush carpet beneath her feet, the honey suckle candle on the dresser, the breeze from the ceiling fan – not the girl in the guest bedroom.

Her pulse jumped as old desires rushed to the surface. Emma was hers and she wanted her close, the way she was supposed to be. Emma's place wasn't down the hall. It was in her bed, curled up by her side.

'She hasn't earned your bed.'

The voice grated, shards of glass concealed with velvet. The Queen was less than pleased with their current arrangement, but for slightly different reasons. Emma had broken her trust, betrayed her just like-

No. Emma hadn't betrayed her. Regina knew that. Emma had kept secrets and run from her to ensure their future; to ensure Henry's life. Her actions were motivated by loyalty. She had made the right decision for the time they were in.

Regina closed her eyes and took a deep breath, sorting through memories and emotions. Emma had entered the Enchanted Forest more than 30 years ago. For three decades she had lived without memory of the woman who had seeped beneath her skin, but she never forgot. He heart remembered even if her mind didn't, and now...? The memories were sharp, alive with color, scents and sounds. The sensations were intense and she had at least had some separation from their past. She wasn't sure how Emma was handling it.

'She's not.'

Regina sighed, stepping further into the room. That was why Emma was down the hall. That was why she couldn't let her emotion override her good sense and reason. Emma was still too close to their past.

She was still too close to their past.

Emma sat on her bed, blonde hair falling over her left shoulder. Curling wisps escaped the loose braid Regina had weaved together that morning. They framed her face, catching golden rays from the balcony window. Roses and pine drifted in on the wind, entwining with the scent of Emma's hair serum. Regina had picked it out specifically for her: jasmine and sandalwood. Emma preferred earthy scents, hence the sandalwood. She often overlooked flowers, claiming they smelt like death.

Regina couldn't disagree really. She detested lilies herself. But the Jasmin in her garden enticed Emma. She wasn't even sure her girl was aware of her tendency to curl up near the bushes each time they visited. Her eyes would drift closed as the wind passed through their branches, warming Emma's cheeks.

Regina loved that look. The peaceful pleasure that passed over Emma's face, made her heart catch. The relaxing of her shoulders. The tilting of her head; lashes fluttering. Her pink lips parted and soft puff of air escaped her, carried away by the spiced summer air.

Regina's center throbbed. She glanced down at the maps in front of her. The red X's marked the places they knew Snow had allies. She had searched most of them and had come up empty. She glanced at Emma again, smiling as the girl plucked a raspberry from a nearby bush. Her tongue rolled, plucking the berry from between her thumb and finger.

Regina growled. "I don't see how I'm supposed to work with you doing that?"

Emma blinked, emerald sparks swirling in sea green irises. "Do what?"

Regina folded the map carefully, a smirk pulling at her lips. "We both know that is not how you normally indulge in fruit."

"Yes, but isn't there something different about fruit right off the vine?" Emma asked, carefully picking another.

"Raspberries don't grow on vines, dear."

Emma rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

The Queen stood. "I do," she stalked closer. The Queen had a preference for wild fruit. Berries from the darkest corners of the forest tasted sweeter and forbidden. Her fingers twitched as she neared the soft figure below her, eyeing the curves traveling under Emma's white tunic. The light sun shown through, capturing an enticing silhouette. "So I am to believe, enjoying fruit was your only intent?"

"I like to call it a tasty time." Emma consumed another berry, this time releasing an low moan. The vibrations lifted the hair on the Queen's arm, a tremble cascading down her spine.

Regina's fingers tangled in Emma's hair, tilting her head back. "Care to give a small taste?"

The Queen leaned forward, her eyes fluttering shut as soft lips pressed to her own. She was gentle at first. She was always gentle at first, coaxing Emma to open for her. She loved playing with her lovers, enticing and exciting until they begged her for release.

She never lasted long with Emma.

Once she allowed herself to take part in Emma's pleasure, Regina lost herself, consumed by sensation and lust. She pressed Emma onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head. The hunger in her chest charged through her veins, lighting fires at her center. She licked, nipped and sucked at Emma's lips, delighting as they swelled beneath her mouth.

She should break away. There was so much she needed to do. It had been days since she had truly focused her efforts on Snow White, and she had villagers to see that afternoon…

Emma's knee lifted and Regina gasped at the pressure building between her legs. Those villagers would have to wait. She needed to teach her girl a lesson…

Regina gripped the sink. Her knuckles were white, muscles trembling as she struggled to grasp reality. She had no memory of making it to the bathroom. No memory of walking across the padded carpet, taking off her jacket or shoes. The memory had consumed her completely, as if she had truly been there only moments ago. She could taste Emma's mouth. She could feel Emma's thigh, slick from their combined juices.

Regina grasped the faucet, turning on the cold water. She splashed her face. What she really needed was a cold shower. If she expected to accomplish anything anyway. It would be so easy to slip back to that place in her garden, to lie on the patched quilt with Emma, remembering how Emma returned her kisses, nails digging into the back of Regina's thighs.

She splashed her face and shut down the sink. No. She had to get a grip. On all her emotions. Her fantasies weren't the only memories vying for the Queen's attention. At the edge of her consciousness, darkness swirled, pulsing with the need for vengeance. The darkness had always been there. Even as a child, she knew that place inside her existed. It was a place of pain. The place she locked away all her trauma and all her demons. Just like Emma.

Only unlike Emma, her dark chambers were unlocked by Rumple. He didn't slay the demons he found inside her. He nurtured them.

She'd often thought about her past as the Queen. What moment made her who she was? When did she become the Evil Queen? There were many moments to choose from, but if she were honest with herself, she knew the Evil Queen was born the day she pushed Cora through that mirror. The day she felt what it was like to have power over the people who hurt her. The day she knew she would never let anyone have that kind of power over her again. She had Rumple after all. He would help her claim her destiny.

And he had.

It was strange to know your darkness. It was even stranger to accept that darkness - to know that the Queen was imperative to her own self love and survival, but destructive to them at the same time. She warred with her darker self and the voice crying for vengeance. Emma had betrayed her. The Queen's instincts were to punish. She wanted Emma to feel the pain she caused. The Queen may have loved Henry and even understood Emma's motives. But betrayal was betrayal.

She sighed. She tried to imagine how she would have responded if Emma had come clean about everything in the past. It was hard to picture. She had told Emma the Queen would have wanted both Emma and Henry with her then. She wouldn't have waited.

Regina still believed that was true. What she wasn't sure of was her level of betrayal. Would it have softened the blow if Emma had told her everything back then? Maybe. But there future would be gone. If she were being honest with herself, it was the loss that hurt the most. The memories of finding Emma gone, of searching for her and coming up empty. Her heart sank into her chest each passing minute, fearing both for the girl and herself. If Emma had left her…

Regina shook the feeling away.

Her anger wasn't really at Emma. Her demons didn't thirst for her blood. Not exactly. Her loss simply reminded them of everyone else who had used her.

Emma had never used her. Not here and especially not then. She was the one to capture Emma. She was the one who needed Emma, had used Emma, as a way to find her own salvation.

Emma. Her savior. Even back then…