A/N: Here's the next installment. I hope you enjoy! It's going to be a couple days before chapter 14 is up, but hopefully the longer length of this chapter will make up for the wait. Thanks again to all who review; it means a lot to me.
xxxxx
Regina woke up the next day determined. Working to win back Henry by trying to retrieve Emma and Snow was taxing her emotionally in ways that were unanticipated and unwelcome. If this project of hers hadn't started showing such promising results with Henry, she would scrap it all together.
As it was, her relationship with Henry was better than it had been in years, and she was really looking forward to teaching him to ride. They had such a great time at the animal shelter—her ruined shirt notwithstanding—that she was confident he would love horses almost as much as she did.
So, she couldn't abandon her effort to retrieve Ms. Swan and Snow, tempting though it may be.
But she refused to be some prince's plaything, even if he was handsome and caring. Caring? Where did that come from? She meant to think 'charming.' And she meant to think it sarcastically. Damn it.
All the more reason they needed to get Emma and Snow back, and they needed to get them back soon. Then she could make arrangements with Emma to visit Henry and eventually—maybe—she could get at least partial custody. And she would negotiate that with Ms. Swan—not him.
Yes, the sooner she reunited this perfect family—this perfect family to which she was inexorably linked through Henry, but decidedly not a part of—the sooner she did that, the sooner she could return her focus to her relationship with Henry.
And maybe she would take up riding again.
Since Daniel died—was murdered—she hadn't ridden for pleasure. In the Enchanted Forest, it was a necessary means of transportation. In Storybrooke, she avoided it all together. But maybe it was time to try to find some joy in it again. Hadn't Archie suggested she do something like that? Pick something from her childhood that she had loved and try it again?
It was quite possible that she had reached a new low—taking life advice from an insect masquerading as a man (or had he been a man masquerading as an insect?). Either way, it felt a bit pathetic.
But maybe riding would help her remember the good times with Daniel; the memories she didn't want to lose, however painful his loss made them.
She shook her head to bring herself out of her reverie and into the present. First things first. She had to deal with the Charming Prince and bring back his family. Then she could go about the business of grasping at some happiness for herself.
xxxxx
"Thank you for coming over," Regina said as David entered her foyer.
"Of course," he replied awkwardly. "I'm glad you are still willing to help."
She gave him a withering glare. "I told you when we first began this arrangement that I was doing this for Henry," she said in a clipped, business-like tone. "Your lapse in judgment has done nothing to change that." She may have responded more passionately than she was willing to admit, but he had kissed her—twice—and she was not about to let him forget it.
David nodded, properly chastised. "Still," he said, "Thank you."
Damn him, Regina thought. She had started this meeting so well—appropriately irritated and disdainful of him—but one genuine statement of gratitude from him and she could already feel her walls starting to crumble.
So, she refortified them and walked into her living room.
David looked around. Gone was the mess from his last visit; it must have taken her hours to clean it all up.
"I didn't use magic," she said, noticing his gaze.
"I didn't think you had," he replied sincerely.
There it was again. That genuine forthrightness that she'd only ever seen on a tall stable boy.
Oh dear god. Regina dropped onto the sofa, her subconscious finally having hit her with a sledgehammer. David and Daniel. They were so similar.
She felt ill. This was not happening.
And it was definitely not happening while David was in her house.
He had already taken a cautious step toward her, worried at her sudden collapse onto the couch and the accompanying draining of color from her face. "Are you all right?" he asked, not daring to touch her after yesterday's events.
"Yes," she replied brightly and falsely. "Just a sudden drop in blood pressure. Nothing to concern yourself with." Focus, Regina.
"Please," she continued in a more normal tone, "have a seat."
He obediently took a seat on the opposite section of the couch. He was so determined to respect her personal space—and to not impulsively kiss her yet again—that he was almost awkwardly far away from her.
She noted this and smirked slightly before summarizing her agenda for their meeting. She knew what needed to be done, and they were going to do it. She didn't care how awkward it made them—him—feel.
"While you were out chasing wolves," Regina began dryly, "The town librarian told me about Rumpelstiltskin's procedure to return magic to Storybrooke."
David leaned forward. He had hardly slept the night before, wondering what Regina had learnt that made the hat unnecessary to their retrieval mission. He was awake wondering other things as well . . . but he had resolved to focus on getting his family back. Figuring out whatever he felt for Regina would have to wait.
"To make an insufferably long story short," Regina said, irritated afresh at the memory of Belle's droning, "I have good news and possibly bad news."
"The good news, as you already know, is that we probably don't need the hat to get Ms. Swan and Snow back to Storybrooke," she explained. "Rumpelstiltskin discovered a well with the waters of Lake Nostos—you've heard of it, good," she said at his eyes flickered in recognition with some other emotion that was gone too quickly for identification. "Then, undoubtedly, you've figured out where I'm going with this," she said.
"We use the waters of Lake Nostos to return to us what we lost—Emma and Snow," he confirmed.
This sounded like great news to him. But he could tell that Regina was intensely worried about something, and he would not feel easy until he knew what it was.
"The bad news?" he asked.
She studied her hands and kept her voice carefully indifferent. "Rumpel used your and Snow's true love to brew the foundation for the magic present here in Storybrooke," she glanced at him. "There are a lot of potentially dangerous consequences to that approach. For our purposes, however, what this means is that the relationship requirements for the person performing the retrieval spell are more stringent than we initially thought."
David's attention was focused completely on Regina while he waited for her to be more specific. Whatever it was, she seemed unusually unwilling to say it. "Regina," he said simply, "Just tell me."
"If you and Snow White are no longer each other's true loves, our current plan will kill you, me, Snow, and Emma. If we're lucky," Regina said.
"If we're lucky?" David asked.
"Yes," Regina confirmed. "If we're unlucky, we could demolish Storybrooke completely."
"Good thing we know that Snow and I are each other's true loves," David said, less confidently than he would have liked.
When Regina didn't respond, he said, "I woke her from a sleeping curse. That means it's true love, right?" Given the concern radiating from the one magical expert in the room, he assumed the answer to his question was 'no.' He just didn't understand how that was possible.
"That means that it was true love, David," Regina said. "When you woke her from the sleeping curse, she truly loved you and you truly loved her," she fought to keep her voice from breaking. There were some afflictions too permanent for true love's kiss to heal.
More academically, she continued, "The term 'true love' is something of a misnomer in the English language. People assume that 'true love' indicates romantic, singular, and eternal love."
David looked at her curiously. Whenever she chose to share her knowledge, it was always interesting. And, in this case, extremely relevant.
"The 'romantic' requirement is clearly inaccurate," Regina said. "Otherwise, Emma's kiss to Henry would not have broken the curse."
At David's nod, she continued, "And the idea that each person can only truly love one person at a time is utterly absurd. Using parental love as an example again, if a mother truly loves one of her children, why on earth would we expect her not to truly love all of them?"
"And as far as 'eternal,'" Regina said more softly, "That is a possible, but not necessary, condition for true love."
David nodded his head slowly to indicate his comprehension, but he refrained from speaking to avoid imposing on the recollections clearly occupying the queen's mind.
"More mundanely, but no less powerfully," she cleared her throat as she concluded her lesson, "'True love' in the magical sense means no more and no less than that each person is willing to die for the other."
They sat in silence as David felt the impact of her words.
"Then we don't have a problem," David asserted suddenly and with conviction. "I would die for Snow."
"I know," Regina responded. And she did know. The man before her was unfailingly loyal and compassionate.
"However," Regina said, "Because Rumpelstiltskin returned magic to Storybrooke based on your and Snow's romantic true love, being willing to die for her in the traditional, magical, true love sense is not enough. For you to perform a spell with Snow as the object, you must still be her romantic true love."
"Otherwise," she looked at him apologetically, "you both will die."
"But I am," he said, unconvincingly.
"You might be," Regina replied gently. What was wrong with her? She had intended on freezing him out after his treatment of her. Instead, here she was, being sensitive to his feelings—his feelings for Snow White no less. If Evil Villains had a union, her membership card would most certainly be revoked.
Tentatively, she continued, "But, the nature of love can change with the passage of time. And, given that this spell could kill us all, I think we should make sure before we pursue this particular plan any further."
He looked at her, surprised, "You can do that?"
"I think so," she replied with repressed excitement—she had never tried this spell before, and she was looking forward to it. "That's why I asked you to come over so early. If you agreed to this test, I wanted to make sure we had plenty of time to complete it before Henry got out of school."
Despite the tumult of feeling he was experiencing at the thought of possibly no longer being in true, romantic love with Snow, he couldn't help a small smile at Regina's enthusiasm for her experiments.
"Also," she said, "I think we need Grumpy and Astrid's help."
"Could you call them?" she asked, even as the surprise at her wanting the help of a dwarf and former-fairy covered his face. "I think they would be more receptive to a request coming from you . . ."
"You're probably right about that," he said, as he stood and headed to the phone. Surprised as he was, if Regina said they needed Grumpy and Astrid's help, then he would try to make it happen.
xxxxx
"Could you get that?" Regina called to David from the kitchen. After David called Grumpy and Astrid, she had retreated to the kitchen to begin preparations for the spell, and David had stayed in the living room, supposedly to stay out of her way.
If it was easier on both of them to avoid each other, neither was willing to admit it.
"Sure," David replied and opened her front door to an uneasy Grumpy and cheerful Astrid. "Come on it," he gestured to the inside of Regina's house.
Grumpy looked him carefully in the face before saying, "You don't look like you're under a spell."
David shook his head with a small chuckle and said, "Regina's not like that anymore. She's on our side." The incongruity of his defending Regina from the very act of which he had accused her the day before was not lost on him. Grumpy's question, however, was forgivable. He didn't know Regina well enough to revise his expectations of her behavior. David, however, knew he should have thought better of her. Not for the first time in the past twenty-four hours, he felt shame rising inside him.
Grumpy still looked skeptical, but he and Astrid entered the house.
"Regina," David called. "Are you ready for us?"
"Yes—just don't touch anything!" she hollered.
Grumpy tried to hide his surprise at the queen's informality and David's answering chuckle.
"Don't worry," David responded. "I've learned my lesson." He was not in any hurry to experience animal transformation again.
"Glad to hear it," Regina replied with a teasingly skeptical expression after David led Astrid and Grumpy into the kitchen.
"How do we help Snow?" Grumpy asked them abruptly. He was uncomfortable and didn't want to be there any longer than necessary. Prince Charming being friendly with the Evil Queen was weird. He wanted to do whatever he could to help get the real queen and her daughter back and then get out of the former mayor's house. David might be convinced that this woman meant no harm, but David hadn't been the one housing Snow White while she evaded Regina's capture.
"Grumpy," Astrid chastised gently. She turned to Regina. "I don't think we've met since the curse broke. I'm Astrid," she said brightly, extending her hand. "Like David, I've chosen to continue using my Storybrooke name."
Regina was shocked. There was no trace of anger or bitterness in the former fairy's expression. Her manners worked through her shock, though, as she shook Astrid's hand, "Regina. Nice to meet you."
"Thank you both for coming over, especially on such short notice," Regina addressed them in a tone that, if not quite friendly, was sincere and welcoming. Astrid's guileless kindness encouraged her to avoid relapsing into her Mayor defense mechanism—at least for the moment.
"We have a bit of an odd request," Regina began carefully. Prince Charming and Snow White might not be in love anymore—would you mind being the test subjects for a spell that would check that for us? Her preference for directness did not quite extent to that level of bluntness. She turned to David, "Maybe you should tell them." After all, it was really his news to share.
David nodded. He didn't particularly want to say the words out loud, but he appreciated Regina's sensitivity. He should explain it his way. Taking a fortifying breath, he said, "I might not be Snow's true love anymore, and we need to know for sure before we use magic to try to bring her and Emma back. Otherwise it might kill us all."
His disclosure seemed to make perfect sense to Astrid, who just nodded. Grumpy, on the other hand, was not adapting to the news very well. "What do you mean, you might not be Snow's true love anymore?" he asked in a tone that was somewhere between angry and confused.
David flinched, but before he could say anything, it was Astrid who explained. "For a love to be 'true' in the magical sense, it does not have to be eternal. It just has to be pure."
Grumpy still appeared flummoxed, but his anger had dissipated in response to the calming influence of his love.
While he absorbed Astrid's words, she turned a curious expression to Regina, "I smell rosemary. Does this have something to do with romantic true love?"
"Yes," Regina said. She was glad that the fairy did, in fact, have a sound basis in magical fundamentals. With The Blue Fairy in charge, she hadn't been confident that Astrid was well-trained. "As you have guessed, the situation is more . . . complicated than just true love. Because of the way Gold brought magic to Storybrooke, David and Snow's love must still be romantic in nature for our current plan to work."
"That really was Gold?" Grumpy asked. "I assumed you had a hand in it."
Regina's expression closed off reflexively, but she liked Astrid, and she knew that Henry loved Grumpy. Instead, then, of drawing from the wealth of belittling and mocking responses she had at her disposal, she replied neutrally, "I didn't. It was Gold."
"I would never have done that," she said earnestly.
Grumpy, surprised at her lack of rancor, didn't know how to respond.
In the meantime, Astrid had begun inspecting the ingredients for the spell that Regina had organized on the stove and countertop.
"Oh!" she exclaimed excitedly. "This is really clever!" she told Regina honestly and enthusiastically as she figured out what kind of enchantment the different mixtures indicated.
Regina blushed. It had been a long time since someone had paid her a genuine, unsolicited compliment. "Thank you," she replied, slightly embarrassed. False flattery, she was used to receiving, but kindness was unfamiliar territory.
David smiled. It was nice to see someone else appreciating Regina's talents, and his heart was filled with gratitude toward Astrid for treating Regina like a person, rather than The Evil Queen. Grumpy was a lucky man; Astrid was a unique woman.
"I understand why you called us now," Astrid said. "This is really creative, but it might not work."
Regina nodded and walked over to join Astrid at the stove. "Romance spells are always temperamental," Regina agreed, more comfortable now that they were discussing the mechanics of her magical science experiment.
"Mine never worked," Astrid said. "But I'm also not very good at magic. Even The Blue Fairy said so."
Regina was instantly angry on Astrid's behalf. How dare that Mother Superior blame Astrid for her own shortcomings as a teacher! "Blue is hardly the authority she thinks she is," Regina said dryly. In a more reassuring tone, she said, "And I think you could be great at magic."
"Really?" Astrid's eyes lit up.
Regina smiled. "Really," she affirmed. She then looked at Astrid, almost like she was looking more at the area around her. "To be completely sure, we'd have to do some tests, but it seems that Gold restored your magic as well—or at least elements of it."
Astrid's eyes danced with excitement. She'd never been good at anything. And to be told by someone as accomplished as The Queen that she could be great at magic—the thing that had always made her feel the most inadequate and inconsequential—was a dream come true.
"Today, though," Regina said, "Could you help us with this?" She gestured to the organized chaos that was her kitchen counter and stove.
Astrid nodded enthusiastically. "Of course!"
"Umm, ladies?" David asked tentatively. "I'm glad that Astrid is on board, but could one of you explain what's going on to the rest of us over here?"
Grumpy had watched his girlfriend bond with the Evil Queen in a kind of fascinated horror. But, at Regina's admonishment of Blue and encouragement of Astrid, his horror drained away. Now, he merely wore the expression of someone who had fallen through the rabbit hole to Wonderland and was calmly awaiting his return to the real world.
Astrid, with her newfound confidence, bounded over to the men. "Of course," she said. "Regina has adapted a common enchantment from our land that should allow us to infer if two people are each other's romantic true love."
Astrid continued as Regina smiled at her enthusiasm. It was nice to have someone else explain the magical details for a change. "Grumpy, this is why we had to come over. Regina assumed that we are each other's romantic true loves," Astrid blushed prettily as she elaborated for David's benefit, "And she's right."
"You bet, she's right," Grumpy said, taking Astrid's hand and kissing her fingers.
Through a beaming smile, Astrid continued to explain, "So, if she performs the spell on us, and it indicates that we are a romantic true love match, then her spell works. Otherwise, we'll have to think of something else to figure out if David and Snow are still a match."
"So what's the spell?" Grumpy asked.
Regina sighed. "This is the unpleasant part," she said. "If the spell works, it's going to hurt."
Astrid appeared unsurprised by this statement, but Grumpy looked grim and David looked concerned.
"Not for long," she assured them. "But, well, let me just tell you which spell I've adjusted, and then you'll see."
"I've altered the traditional fidelity charm frequently used by landowners and royalty in our land," she said. David flinched in understanding, but Grumpy still seemed confused.
She was going to have to be more explicit.
"In the Enchanted Forest it was common practice," she slipped into what David now thought of as her Lecture Voice, "for kings and noblemen to put their wives under fidelity enchantments upon marriage. The enchantment was intended to prevent the woman from having 'relations' outside the marriage. This would ensure that the throne or property of the man was passed down to true heirs and not the children of another man."
Her clinical tone chilled David. He was beginning to realize that Regina appeared the most detached when she was the most affected.
"The spell does not actually prevent cheating," Regina explained. "It just makes it physically painful to do so. If the wife even kisses another man, she feels an electric shock run through her body, much like the feeling of being tazered here—or like being an animal trying to cross an electric fence."
"Barbaric," Grumpy said, appalled.
"Yes, well," Regina brushed off the potential reflections this spell could elicit and focused on the task at hand. "I've changed the original spell in a few ways. Instead of tying the electric shock to the violation of a marriage contract, I've tied it to the violation of romantic true love. I didn't want to adjust the spell more than absolutely necessary—to increase the chances of it working—so it will still hurt if you kiss someone else, but I did try to turn down the voltage, so to speak."
David and Grumpy absorbed her explanation, and then Grumpy spoke. "Let me get this straight," he said. "You want to put an electric fence around either Astrid or me and then have that person kiss someone else to see if we get electrocuted."
"Essentially, yes," Regina said.
Astrid looked at Grumpy hopefully. She really wanted to help. He squeezed her hand in assurance and then directed his attention to Regina.
"Okay," he said. "On one condition."
Regina quirked an eyebrow in question.
"I'm the one that gets shocked. The spell will not be placed on Astrid."
"Grumpy," Astrid protested. "It's okay, I don't mind."
But the gruff man was firm. "This is non-negotiable," he looked at Regina.
She nodded her head in understanding, trying not to betray how sweet she thought he was for this gesture. Somehow, she didn't think Grumpy would appreciate The Evil Queen finding him adorable.
"Regina," David said. "Are you sure this is necessary?" He really didn't like the idea of one of his friends being electrocuted on his and his family's behalf.
"I'm afraid it is," Regina looked at him sympathetically. "Otherwise, when we do this spell on you, if you aren't shocked, we won't know if it is because you're not Snow's true love or if the spell just didn't work."
The Prince gave a reluctant nod, as Grumpy said, "Let's get started."
xxxxx
"I feel ridiculous," Grumpy said. "Do we have to do this, or did you just want to make me look stupid?"
Regina smirked as she put a piece of rosemary behind each of Grumpy's ears. He did look ridiculous. The herbs behind his ears were in addition to blobs of goop that had been carefully placed on his face and hands. "Oh, I'm definitely just doing this to make you look stupid," she said.
Grumpy growled his irritation, but relaxed at the sound of Astrid's laugh.
Regina stood back and admired her work. Then, seriously, she asked, "Are you ready?"
Grumpy nodded as Astrid and David moved behind Regina.
"Okay," she said. "You're going to feel like you've been suddenly dunked in cold water, so don't panic when the air rushes out of your lungs. You won't suffocate. Then, your skin will tingle briefly but intensely. It will be uncomfortable, but all of those sensations will pass in under thirty seconds."
"How do you know this?" David asked.
"I just do," she replied in a clipped tone. The cool demeanor was back—the demeanor that David recognized as her armor when she entered territory that was too personal. He shared a brief glance with the decorated dwarf, who had reached the same conclusion; Regina possessed details that only the object of such a spell could know.
Grumpy refocused on the queen, whose eyes had grown even darker as a swirl of purple grew into a ball in her right hand. As soon as it reached the size of a basketball, she lobbed it through the air. It sailed in a gentle arc before appearing to break over Grumpy's head, drizzling him in rivulets of purple magic. The dwarf shuddered, suddenly exhaled, and then appeared fine, but breathless.
"You weren't kidding about that water-dunking thing," he said with a look at Regina as he shook out his limbs. This magic stuff was weird. Satisfied that he was back to normal, he looked at his compatriots. "All right, let's test this out."
And, with that, he swooped Astrid into his arms and into a ballroom-dancing dip before kissing her passionately and releasing her.
David's jaw dropped, and Regina gave an amused smirk. Who knew that Grumpy had such moves?
Astrid giggled happily, as Grumpy suddenly spun her back out while keeping hold of her hand.
"That part worked," Grumpy said matter-of-factly, as though he hadn't just planted quite the display of affection on his lady love. "No tazer action, because I wasn't cheating."
Regina nodded, the smirk still on her lips. She liked his style.
"Now what?" Grumpy asked. "I kiss someone else and see if I get electrocuted?"
"Yep," Regina confirmed.
"That's awkward," he commented.
"Yep," Regina parroted herself.
Grumpy turned to Astrid. "Do you have a preference? I don't want to make this any weirder than it already is by picking someone you don't want me to pick."
Astrid smiled at her man. He was so thoughtful. "How about her?" she said, indicating Regina. "I don't care who it is; I know you love me. This way we can just get it over with. Also," she gave Regina a brief, but appraising, look, "I trust her."
Regina was completely surprised. She'd assumed they'd go down to the diner or something so he could kiss someone that he was at least friends with. And to hear that Astrid trusted her . . . she felt honored.
Grumpy also looked surprised, but not revolted. The past hour had done a lot to change his perspective on Regina. He shrugged. "All right with you?" he asked her.
Regina shrugged as well. "It would be the quickest way to know if the spell worked."
It was with deliberately neutral expressions that Astrid and David watched Grumpy approach Regina. David felt something clench in his gut. He suddenly didn't like this experiment at all.
Grumpy quickly placed a firm kiss on Regina's lips. No sense in drawing this bizarre situation out any longer than necessary, he thought.
As soon as their lips met, Grumpy's body went rigid as a jolt shot through him.
"Ouch," Regina said, grabbing her lips. They felt as though they'd been burned.
Astrid was immediately by Grumpy's side where he was sprawled on the floor.
"I'm all right," he assured her as he pulled himself to a sitting position. He then looked at Regina. "I guess the spell works," he said wryly.
"I guess it does," she replied.
"And you said that you turned down the voltage?" Grumpy asked in slight disbelief, rubbing his head.
Regina gave an apologetic grin. "I did. I'm sorry I couldn't dilute it further."
"No problem, sister," he replied. "Hey," he asked. "Just how long is this spell good for anyway?"
Regina looked thoughtful. "The original fidelity spell lasted until the death of the spouse, so I suspect that this spell will last until one of you dies, or until you fall out of love—not that that would happen," she quickly added.
"Works for me," Grumpy said. "I won't be kissing anyone else anyway," he said as he squeezed Astrid's hand.
Grumpy groaned slightly as he stood. "Is it the Prince's turn to get barbequed?" he asked.
Regina let out a light laugh, and gave David a teasing smirk. "I believe it is."
xxxxx
"I do feel ridiculous," David addressed Grumpy as Regina carefully spread the bizarre mixture on his cheekbones.
"Join the club," Grumpy replied, despite having just washed up in Regina's restroom. Except for a few rogue pieces of rosemary, he had removed all physical evidence of Regina's spell.
David was determined to focus on how absurd he felt. Maybe if he focused on the absurdity of the situation he would stop noticing how very, very close Regina's body was to his. And how her face was only millimeters away. And how she looked adorable with her brow furrowed in concentration.
Absurd. He felt absurd. Nothing else. Certainly nothing magnetic. And he certainly wasn't enjoying the recurrence of the crackling magic between them as she applied the goop to his forehead.
"Wow," Astrid said, fascinated. "What's that?"
Regina pulled back from her designs on David's face and looked at Astrid. "You can see it?"
"Not quite 'see,' " Astrid said. "More, 'detect.' It's like I just know it's there," she explained absently as she appeared to examine something that none of them could see. "It's really powerful," she commented in wonder as Regina applied the goop to David's left hand.
Regina hummed in agreement, hoping Astrid would let the subject drop. Whatever this magic was between them, she was not ready to discuss it with anyone else.
"How did this happen?" Astrid asked curiously.
"We had an . . . incident yesterday," Regina said carefully.
"Do you know what it is?" Astrid was fascinated.
"I have a theory," Regina said neutrally. "But it's not important right now," she said, stepping away from David, her goop and rosemary application complete.
Astrid seemed to accept Regina's dismissal of the topic, despite still feeling intensely curious about that crackling magic.
"Ready?" Regina asked David. At his nod, she became completely controlled and business-like, expertly lobbing the ball of purple magic over his head.
Just like Grumpy, David shuddered as the air whooshed out of his lungs.
"Ugh," he said when he caught his breath. "That was awful."
"Sorry," Regina said.
Something clicked in David's mind as he asked her, "Did you tone down this part too? When you toned down the shock?"
"Yes," Regina said.
"So, previous recipients of this spell would have experienced worse?" he asked.
She just nodded, avoiding eye contact.
Grumpy, disconcerted by Regina's sudden fragility, turned to David. "I don't know who you're kissing, but it's not Astrid," he said firmly, but not aggressively.
"Grumpy," David replied melodramatically, "you wound me!" The prince clutched at his heart as though stricken.
Astrid laughed as Grumpy said, "No way! I don't care how handsome you are—I'm not getting shocked again."
All four of them knew that this left Regina as the natural choice. "Do you mind?" David asked her quietly. After his poor show of restraint the previous day, not to mention his horrible accusation, he wouldn't blame her if she refused to allow him to kiss her.
"It's fine," she responded more tentatively than she would have liked. In a stronger voice, she continued, "Besides, the less people that know about our experiment, the better. At least for now." She was glad to see Grumpy and Astrid nodding in agreement. They didn't need Storybrooke's rumor mill going into overdrive over a few balls of purple magic and the phrase 'true love.'
Unlike the way Grumpy had kissed Regina—it had resembled the process of ripping off a band-aide—David intended to kiss her affectionately, but not passionately. After all, it wouldn't do for the two of them to lose control in front of an audience.
David gently cradled her cheek and jaw with one of his hands, determinedly leaving his other arm hanging idly by his side, as he guided her face toward his. Gently, he caressed her lips with his own, suddenly resolved to use this kiss to communicate everything she wouldn't allow him to say to her. You are cared for. You are not alone anymore.
The usual magic pulsed between them as his lips moved over hers, but it took them a moment to realize that the electric shock never came. David hadn't been jolted like Grumpy had been.
David was not Snow's romantic true love.
He pulled back from Regina, the devastation etched onto his face. He was no longer in love with his wife.
Comprehending David's pain, Regina brought her arms up from her sides—where she had also consciously kept them during their kiss—and grasped his forearms, linking them together in a gesture of unwavering support.
David did not seem to register the contact as he stood, dumbfounded. She moved her face close to his, gazing at him intently. "It's all right," she told him quietly, but earnestly. "We can still get them back." She squeezed his arms in assurance.
As his expression turned hopeful, she gave him a soft smile. "Do you really think I would have given you hope after George destroyed the hat if I didn't have another plan?" she said with mock-criticism.
"No, I suppose not." He had the decency to look ashamed for having doubted her.
"Good," she said as the spark returned to his eyes. Then, suddenly recollecting that they were not alone, she briefly squeezed his arms again before releasing him and stepping away to a more socially-acceptable distance.
Bereft of her contact, but comprehending why she stepped away, David turned to face Grumpy and Astrid. "I guess now we know," he said awkwardly. "If you two could keep this to yourselves . . . I want to be able to tell Snow myself when she gets back."
"No problem," Grumpy assured him, as Astrid nodded her agreement. "We won't say anything."
"We should be heading out though," Astrid added. It had not escaped her or Grumpy's attention that there was more between the charming prince and the not-so-evil queen than a mere working relationship. The level of trust and understanding in their treatment of each other demonstrated mutual respect and strong friendship.
And . . . Their kiss . . . it seemed to be deliberately dispassionate, as though both David and Regina had been restraining themselves. As carefully passionless as the kiss had been, though, the tenderness they expressed was unmistakable.
And then there was the magic that hummed between them . . . .
She didn't need her experience as Nova the Fairy to identify the symptoms before her. She knew why the Prince was no longer Snow White's true love.
He was now someone else's.
xxxxx
A/N: Hopefully this made up for the wait and for chapter 12. As always, I would love to know what you think, and we're getting close to Zombie Daniel's appearance! Thanks for reading!