A/N: Sorry for the delay, folks. It has been one heck of a week. Thanks again for all of the support you're showing this story, and I hope you enjoy this.
"I have bad news," David said, and she heard a warning in his tone. "You're not going to die tomorrow."
"What?" Regina asked, stunned. What did David think he knew? And did he really think he could prevent it, or was this his trademark unfounded heroic resolve?
David closed the distance between them and looked her directly in the eyes, an act made easier by the fact that his statement had stopped her descent two stairs from the base of the entryway. "You are not going to die tomorrow." He spoke each word with exaggerated diction, his anger obvious in every syllable.
Regina's composure was not reassembling itself properly. She'd spent years training herself to appear composed regardless of the circumstances. She'd found it a surprisingly useful tool in her arsenal, often causing a loss of composure and control in her opponents. She couldn't understand why her controlled calm façade was abandoning her now.
Maybe because she no longer thought of David as an opponent.
"I didn't want to upset Henry, not when he had so much magic to perform," she explained lamely.
"You know I'm not angry about you not telling Henry—though I expect he will be—" Regina's eyebrows shot up in alarm, and he continued, "I won't tell him, Regina, but secrets like these, they always come out. So you will have to answer to Henry. But right now, I want you to answer to me."
Regina's gaze flitted between his eyes and the set of his chin, mild fear obvious in her posture. She knew David would not hurt her, but she had never seem him this kind of angry before—like he had expected more from her and she had withheld it. He was seething.
"Are you certain?" she asked, more meekly than she wished. She was so tired. And he was so angry. And—if she were being honest with herself—he was so justified. "That I'm not going to die?"
"Yes," he said sharply. "What the hell, Regina?" he demanded.
Regina felt an unfamiliar thrill, like an expansion in her heart. He was livid, completely livid. Because he cared about her. She broke in to a broad smile.
"Why are you smiling?" David asked, still angry. She had deceived him, attempted to martyr herself without telling him, and she had the gall to smile in his face.
Regina grasped his arm. "I'm sorry, dear. I don't mean to make fun." She saw his features soften slightly at her sincerity, even as she still wore a small smile. "Would you mind if we moved to the living room? By all means, continue to yell at me. I'd just prefer to be seated."
Recalling that his ire was rooted in concern for her health, David immediately acquiesced. "Of course," he replied, offering her his arm as though escorting her into a ballroom.
Regina smiled gratefully and accepted his support. A gesture that would have seemed artificial, pretentious, or at least extremely out of place if performed by anyone else felt natural, kind, and even regal coming from the shepherd.
Leading to the couch, David sat next to her. "You owe me an apology," he stated.
Regina had the decency to look ashamed as she kept her eyes directed on her fidgeting hands. "I didn't think you could do anything about it," she said.
"Doesn't matter," David chided. "We're a team, Regina." He ducked his head to make eye contact with her. "Even if you were right, and we were forced to accept that the only way to get Snow and Emma back was for you to die—" he tilted her chin toward him, wanting to be certain that she attended to his next words, "—a trade that I would never make, Regina—never. Even if we knew you were going to die, you should have told me. You should have let me shoulder that burden with you." He caressed her cheek, "Hell, Regina, you should have given me the chance to say good-bye." She shivered under his touch, their humming magic secondary to the warmth that suffused her at his intense sincerity. "That wasn't fair, Regina, and you know it."
"I didn't think I could do it," she breathed.
Confusion etched David's features. "What?"
"If I told you that I was going to die—that I was going to have to leave you, leave Henry, forever—if I had to see the look that is on your face right now," Regina took a fortifying breath, "I couldn't have done it. I couldn't have left you. I'm too selfish." She looked down again. One more reason she would never be worthy of Henry.
David tilted her head back up again. "Next time, Regina," he smiled slightly, "Be selfish." He ran his thumb across her cheekbone and leaned in close to her ear. "I'm selfish too," he whispered, brushing his lips along the shell of her ear, "And I want you to be around for a long time."
Regina felt a shiver shoot up from the base of her spine and a familiar fog begin to descend upon her brain as she tilted her throat toward him. Before the motion was complete, however, she suddenly sprung off the sofa with energy she didn't know she had and moved to the opposite section of the couch.
David observed her, amused at her flustered state, despite the fact that it mirrored his own. "Something in particular you like about that section of the couch?" he teased.
She shot him an irritated glare and chucked a throw pillow at his head—no wonder they were called throw pillows, she thought absurdly—"You don't want to cheat on your wife," Regina reminded him. "And I don't want you to either." That reminder was more for herself, even though she couldn't care less about Snow's feelings—she hadn't vowed fidelity to the woman. But she knew breaking his vow would tear David up from the inside out.
"Can't control yourself around me, huh?" David teased.
"I didn't hear you complaining in the diner," Regain retorted with a satisfied smirk.
David let out a brief laugh. "Yeah, thanks for that," he looked at her with mock-anger as Regina's smirk widened.
"You're welcome," she said.
For a moment, they just smiled at each other, enjoying their bond and sense of togetherness, however undefined it may be.
Finally, Regina cleared her throat softly, "I seem to recall you having some kind of plan to keep me alive?"
"Oh, right," David said, smiling sheepishly at having forgotten to communicate the details of that rather important topic. "It's not my plan; it's Astrid's . . ."
Regina fixed breakfast for the three of them in something of a stupor. Her brain was moving at both the speed of light, dancing across hundreds of thoughts without landing on a single one, and in slow motion, almost as if stuck in molasses-thickened mud, making it difficult for her to really understand how her life had come to this inexplicable point. She had cursed everyone she had ever met and everyone they had ever met, spent eighteen years in solitary confinement surrounded by people, spent the next ten loving a boy she'd condemned to similar isolation, become reacquainted with the pain and rage that had prompted her casting the curse upon its breaking, and was now living in a home with people she loved awaiting the arrival of her enemy's allies who had volunteered to save her from certain death.
If this was any indication of what Rumpel saw when he looked into the future, it was no wonder the imp was crazy.
She caught herself humming as she poured the batter into the waffle iron. What was going on? It was as if she was happy. The observation gave her pause. She re-examined her feelings. The joy that bubbled up within her was unmistakable, even to someone as unfamiliar with it as she was.
She was happy.
She knew that the return of Snow and Emma would change things. Would likely mean that neither David nor Henry would live with her any more. Could even mean imprisonment or execution if the town finally got it together enough to try her for her crimes.
But she pushed those thoughts aside. For now, she was happy.
Maybe this time, that could be enough.
She heard a knock at the door as she served David and Henry the first batch of waffles. She had been relieved when she had woken up with the energy to make them breakfast. Almost as if they were a real family.
"I'll get it," she ruffled Henry's hair, and brushed her fingertips across David's shoulder on the way past the table and to the door.
She opened her front door and had to quell the flash of panic that shot through her nervous system at the sight of the group on the other side. This was the part in her dreams when Henry would push her toward them and tell her she deserved to be executed. A long exhale left her body when she didn't feel two small hands push her and when she saw the encouraging expression on Astrid's face. Astrid was never part of the mob in her dreams.
"Please, come in," Regina said, opening the door widely and attempting a smile. She suspected it came out more as a grimace. She'd have to work on that. "Are any of you hungry? I'm making everything I can think of for breakfast this morning. The fresh fruit is particularly good."
"Apples?" Ruby asked, not quite teasing.
Regina responded with good humor that surprised only Ruby, "Why do you think I picked Maine? Great climate for apples."
Ruby caught the twinkle in Regina's eye and rejoined, "I'm more of a meat girl, myself."
Regina gave her a half smile. "I'm sure I can find something dead and bleeding in the fridge," she said as she indicated that they follow her into the kitchen.
"Hey Ruby, Granny, Grumpy, and Astrid!" Henry greeted. They never had this many people over; he was really excited. This was way better than Operation Cobra. Not only was his mom in the Operation this time, but his team included his dragon-fighting grandfather, a werewolf, his favorite dwarf, a fairy, and Granny. Granny didn't have a cool label, but she didn't need one. She was Granny. Everyone knew she was tough. And he couldn't wait to tell Emma all about how they got her and Mary Margaret back.
"How about some steak and eggs, Ruby?" Regina asked, looking through the refrigerator.
"Sure," Ruby replied. "Just a sear, please," she added with a wink.
Regina smirked back and turned to Granny, "Same thing?"
Granny gave her a brisk nod and added, "Medium rare for me. Now that I don't turn, I don't like my meat quite as bloody as the young pup over here," she said indicating Ruby.
Regina's smile was more comfortable and natural at Granny's obvious love for her granddaughter. "How about you two?" she asked Grumpy and Astrid, smirking a bit as she caught Grumpy with a handful of apple.
Grumpy looked at her with feigning ignorance that there was anything out of the ordinary about him eating apples provided by Regina. "I'll stick with the fruit," he said deliberately.
Regina shook her head in amusement and looked toward Astrid, who was smiling fondly at Grumpy. "Me too," Astrid said, stealing an apple from her dwarf.
Regina heard Henry's voice as she turned on the burner. "Mom, I thought you said we had to do this today because of the moon," he said. "So why are we doing this during the day?"
Regina smiled at her son's attention to detail. "The moon still exists even when you can't see it, dear," she explained. "The presence of the sun just makes most people forget about it."
Henry nodded. That made sense.
"We could have done this at night, but I thought the town would be less nervous about spells cast in daylight than in the dark. I don't know why, but darkness seems to make people uneasy," she said, seasoning the steaks. "Also, I didn't want any of us tripping over roots in the woods and getting hurt."
Henry made a face, as though the reason was boring.
Sensing his lack of enthusiasm, Regina laughed. "I'm sorry, dear. Not everything has a glamorous explanation."
Later, all seven of them were cozily and surprisingly comfortably settled around the table engaged in small talk and enjoying breakfast. After finishing her coffee, Regina caught David's eye, and he gave her a slight nod in response to her silent question.
"Please excuse us for a moment," Regina said, standing, and David followed her from the kitchen while the other five continued to chat merrily.
When they reached the living room, out of sight and earshot, Regina turned to David, "Is it strange that this doesn't feel strange?" she asked, referring to the group in her kitchen, as she stepped into his loose arms.
David smiled at her and shook his head. "No," he said. "This is as it should be. It just took us all a while to figure that out."
"I'll meet you where the path starts," she said.
David nodded. They had decided that he would drive Henry to the trail head, and Regina would teleport herself and the others directly to the well. It would have the benefit of allowing Regina to warm up her magic as well as talk to the other adults without Henry present. With David driving, though, they would still have the truck available after the spell; in case Emma or Snow or one of them needed medical attention, they could all fit into the bed of the truck. Regina didn't think any of them should drive immediately after using this level of magic, but Astrid would probably be able to drive safely, as someone with magical experience who would not be exhausted from buffering the magical rollercoaster of an exuberant ten year old.
"Don't try to talk them out of it," David directed.
"I won't," Regina said.
David looked at her sternly, "I mean it, Regina."
"I know," Regina said. "And I promise that I won't," she looked at him sincerely. "But I will ask each one of them if they are certain they want to do this." She shook her head to discourage his impending interjection, "David, I don't expect any of them to experience any lasting effects from this spell other than the one you all discussed yesterday, but all magic has its risks, and I want to make sure that all of them understand and accept those risks. Especially since those risks don't help Henry, Emma, or Snow—only me."
David's hold on her tightened, and he nodded against her hair. "They know something that you don't seem to understand." One of his arms squeezed her waist as the other rubbed across her back and along her neck through her hair. "Helping you does help Henry. And me." He kissed her temple. "And Astrid cares about you, as does Granny, and maybe even Grumpy. Ruby is conflicted, but she doesn't hate you, much as she might wish she did." He pulled away from her slightly to look into her face. "You may need to accept the fact that you're part of the team now."
Regina's face scrunched in distaste. She'd been working solo for a long time, and the idea of joining up with Snow White's goody-goody friends left an unpleasant taste in the back of her throat. But, when she thought about those goody-goody friends without their head goody-goody and as individuals, she realized she could get used to the idea. Granny was certainly no caricature of goodness, and even Astrid was so disarmingly genuine that her "goodness" was sincere kindness, and, though foreign to Regina, not something to which she could object.
David chuckled as he saw the thoughts and emotions flicker across her face, pleased that she allowed him to see them, rather than keeping them behind her formidable wall.
She smacked him playfully in response to his chuckle. "It's not funny!"
"It most certainly is!" David replied. "You're cooking for Little Red Riding Hood, her Granny, a fairy, and one of the seven dwarves—it's hilarious."
"Don't forget Snow White's grandson and Prince Charming," she replied with a devious smile, sliding up in his embrace and onto her toes, bringing her face closer to his.
"Couldn't forget that," David mumbled as he closed the gap between their lips. In addition to the driving arrangements, they had decided to allow themselves this last intimate physical contact before performing the spell. David savored the feel of her lips under his, kissing each in turn as well as the corners where they met. He relished the feel of the smooth plane of her neck and the angle of her jaw beneath his fingertips, and he had the familiar sensation that he would never be able to get enough of this woman.
Regina was melting like butter under his ministrations. She felt like she was soaring and falling at the same time. And from mere kisses. When she felt his stubble scratch along her throat in the best possible manner, she knew she had to stop them. Guests or no guests, if she let this go on much longer, she couldn't be trusted to stop, not when it took all of her better angels to do so.
And her better angels were in scarce supply.
Arching flush against him, she captured his mouth for one more brief, thorough kiss, and then slid out of his embrace, until they were standing two arms' lengths apart and grasping each other's hands.
David looked at her with his roguish grin that she knew meant the best kind of trouble and said, "I wasn't done with you."
Regina hummed in agreement and squeezed his hands. "I know, dear. I wasn't done with you either, but we need to keep it PG-13."
David nodded his head in acknowledgement and played with her fingertips. He brought them to his lips and kissed them. "I still think your rules are stupid."
Regina quirked an eyebrow in bemused questioning.
"Not this rule," David clarified. "As painful as it is to stop, you know I agree with that. Your other rule."
Regina sighed. "David, we went through all of this last night . . ."
"And I still disagree with you," David said.
"I know," Regina replied. Then she looked into his eyes and asked, "Please."
David sighed in resignation. "Okay," he said and placed a kiss to her forehead, still clasping her hands in his. He then commented lightly, "You know, you've come a long way, Regina. You almost didn't look like you'd swallowed poison when you said 'please' just then."
"Ha ha," Regina replied sarcastically, smacking him in the chest.
After a moment of silently enjoying each other's company—they both knew that such moments would be more difficult to come by with the return of Emma and Snow.
"We should get back in there," Regina said.
"We should," David agreed and squeezed her hands tighter.
Regina gave him a hug and a brief, fierce kiss, and stepped away, heading toward the kitchen. Suddenly, she stopped and turned to David, who was following close behind her. "I am sorry. For not telling you I thought I was going to die."
David looked at her, stunned. This woman probably couldn't remember the last time she'd apologized and meant it. "Apology accepted," he said with a grateful smile. "Just stop hurting yourself, allowing yourself to be hurt, or preparing for your own death without consulting me," he told her. "And don't use that analytical politician's mind of yours to violate the principle of my request without technically violating anything I just said."
Regina's left eyebrow had arched in amusement at the Prince's jumbled and clumsy, yet heartfelt, speech. "Is that all?" she asked, teasing him for his verbosity.
"For now," David snarked in reply. "Until I can think of more fine print you might try to exploit."
The corners of Regina's mouth turned upward against her will, even as her eyes flashed in mock-offense. "Do we need to write up a contract?"
"You tell me," David replied. "Can you refrain from endangering yourself without a piece of paper requiring you not to?"
Regina glared at him. "Fine," she snarled.
"Thank you," David said sincerely with a touch of exasperation. Only Regina could make something so simple so difficult.
Regina merely narrowed her eyes in annoyance at his display before allowing him to lead her back into the kitchen by the small of her back.
The occupants of the kitchen tactfully pretended not to notice how long the queen and the prince had been gone.
"Everyone ready?" Regina asked.
A round of yeses and nods communicated the assent from the group.
Regina smiled briefly, surveyed the mess that was the kitchen, and looked at her son with laughter in her eyes. "I know you're too old for this, Henry, but do you want to play Mary Poppins?"
Henry's brow furrowed in brief confusion until he realized what she meant. "Yes!" he exclaimed.
Regina smiled broadly. "I'll get the knives. Other than that you can pick and go first."
Henry was getting ready and then looked accusingly at his mother. "Mom, you have to sing the song!"
Regina scanned the faces of their audience with mild embarrassment before deciding that she didn't care. She wanted to play this game with her son. "You have to join in when it isn't your turn," she stipulated.
Henry groaned, but recognized the justice of her rule and nodded.
Grumpy's jaw dropped as Regina began speaking rhythmically, "In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun. You find the fun and SNAP, the job's a game."
On the obvious cue, Henry had snapped along with his mother and magicked the cut fruit into tupperware and into the refrigerator.
Henry, true to his word, began singing along with his mother, who magically cleaned the knives and forks and put them in their respective places. They continued taking turns cleaning the kitchen as they sang with Henry bursting into giggles when Granny joined in enthusiastically at "Spoonful of sugar." At this point, the others had recovered from the shock that the Evil Queen was singing a Disney showtune—and singing it well—and joined in along with Granny.
After they all belted out the last line, "In a most delightful waaaaaaaaaaaay," Astrid, David, and Henry broke into laughter, Granny smiled approvingly, and Grumpy and Ruby wore identical smiles of mild embarrassment. Regina gave her son a broad smile, even as she felt the effects of his minor use of magic, and enjoyed the result of her spotless kitchen. Besides, Henry needed a magical warm-up before pulling his relatives through dimensions.
David clapped Henry on the shoulder as Regina watched affectionately and said, "I think we need to take this show on the road!"
Regina smirked, "I don't know about that, but we do need to get this show moving."
"Ready, kiddo?" David asked.
"Almost!" Henry exclaimed, still enthusiastic from magically cleaning the kitchen. "I just have to grab my stuff," he said as he ran to take the stairs two at a time.
"Careful, Henry!" Regina called after him, shaking her head in worry. He was going to trip and break his neck if he wasn't careful.
"Good luck, everyone," David smiled at the group, and then turned into Regina's personal space. He cupped her cheek and spoke softly, "Don't redeem yourself too hard, okay?" At her small nod of understanding, he kissed her gently but firmly and then released her and went to make sure Henry didn't forget anything.
Regina resisted the urge to cross her arms into a protective posture. Granny, Red, Grumpy, and Astrid all knew that she and David were together without being together—hell, she had even talked about it with each of the women—but she was unused to allowing others to see her vulnerabilities.
She didn't like it.
"Are you available for hire to clean the diner?" Granny asked, breaking the tension.
Regina laughed. "Maybe. I am really good with stove cleaning. I've always had a knack for domestic spells. Used to drive my mother crazy," her voice trailed off. Suddenly recalling where she was, she refocused on the group and the mission at hand. "Any questions?"
"Yeah," Ruby replied. "Why are you teleporting us there?"
"For me, it's a magical stretch, if you will, like a warm-up," Regina answered. "Also, and perhaps more importantly, it's so each of you will know what my magic feels like. I don't expect anything to go wrong," she nodded at Astrid to recognize her accomplishment in planning their part of the enchantment, "but there are always risks with magic, and we will be doing some Big Magic today. I want you to know what my magic feels like in case I have to do some spell or intervention that we haven't planned on. I want you to know that my magic is part of your team, and you don't have to fight it."
"Wouldn't that be obvious?" Ruby asked skeptically.
"In retrospect, it would be," Regina replied. "But if something goes wrong, it is likely to happen very quickly, so I'd like to do what we can to prepare in advance."
Ruby shrugged in indifferent acceptance.
"Any others?" Regina asked. When none of them asked anything else, she continued, "Then it's my turn. Are you sure you want to do this?"
Astrid and Grumpy immediately nodded in unison, and Ruby replied with a firm yet unenthusiastic "Yeah."
Regina looked toward Granny who stood up, looked her in the eye, and handed her back her letters to Henry. Regina looked at the objects in her hands as traitorous tears sprung to her eyes. She blinked them away and looked at Granny, "Thank you." She turned to Grumpy, Ruby, and Astrid, "Thank all of you." She paused for a moment, allowing them to feel the sincerity of her words, and then handed the letters back to Granny. "Please keep them. There are plenty of people that still hate me, or I could die in a car accident."
"You are one twisted sister, sister," Grumpy commented as Granny re-accepted the letters.
Regina gave the dwarf a half-smirk, "You know it," she said with a wink.
"All right," Regina said. "Let's retrieve your friends."
A/N: Reviews would be appreciated.