Another day, more road. This time one of Regina's 'contacts' managed to get them onboard a carriage headed East. Well, more like a wagon. They sat among bottles of hay-packed whiskey as ahead of them, the brewer sang off-key to his pack horses.

The wagon's old wheels seemed to find every bump and pit in the road. Emma sat on one side of the wagon, Henry under her arm, and Regina sat across from them. It made Emma feel guilty, like this was all some horrible wish she'd made finally coming true—Henry being her son but not Regina's, all their history and love pulled aside so he could be all hers. But she hadn't wanted that, she'd never wanted that—not really.

Late in the day, at a fork in the road, the brewer stopped. This was as far as he could take them. Regina thanked him for his troubles, slipping him a vial of something in payment, and then they were off—the erstwhile family down one road, him down the other.

It was taking far too much effort to rouse Henry from his nap in the cart. Emma wondered if it tired him out, seeing her like this. So like the mother he had grown used to, but with years of distance between them, interspersed in the blink of an eye. So many habits and tics that he wasn't used to, reminding him that she wasn't quite his mother anymore. After so little time in his life, she had spent so much time in Lilith's prison cell…

Or maybe it was just that he'd wanted Regina to be on their side of the wagon as much as Emma had.

Regina decided they could stop for the night, taking them off the path and to a suitable hiding spot. The road ended anyway, in a town they didn't want to try their luck in. She would have to find a trail and she couldn't do it in the dying light. So they made camp, all of them bumping and stalling against each other: Regina knowledgeable about woodcraft but used to working alone, Emma trying to remember something other than gray walls, Henry just not knowing what to do. Finally they had a small fire, blankets set around it, some stew being cooked. Emma sat down and thought about how hard it'd become, just to have that.

There wasn't much to talk about. Regina ate her bowl, then set it down and got up to wander off. Emma thought she was just relieving herself, but she didn't reappear. Henry looked at her with increasing worry.

"I'll go check," Emma said. "You get some sleep."

Henry seemed like he might protest, but was too tired to do more than nod glumly. He was mostly out of it by the time his head hit his cushioning arm. His eyes just stayed open, blandly watching Emma as she walked away.

She found Regina over a rise, sitting on a log, staring up at the sky.

"Not going to help with the dishes, huh?"

Regina glanced at her. "Tomorrow's trip. I don't quite know our bearings, but that up there—" she pointed to three bright stars in a vague triangle, "is Gaia's Fist. We follow that, we should find Tinker's Road. That'll take us the rest of the way." She smiled at Emma, telegraphing a joke. "Tell me that when I was the Evil Queen, I spent at least a little time on infrastructure."

"It was before my time."

Regina nodded absently, now staring upward again. "Your kid seems to be running low on his annoying optimism."

"He's had a tough week."

"I've had a tough life," Regina said, not unkindly. "I get the sense I'm not the only one."

"I'm used to jail. Just one of those personalities. Some people can't take it, I can. And Henry's a trooper, he'll be fine."

"I was a 'trooper.' And I'm fine." Regina looked at Emma again. Her eyes were so different. Clearer than they normally were. Not trying so hard to figure her out. "That doesn't mean I wouldn't have liked someone to…"

She clenched her fist, gestured vaguely with it.

"Are you volunteering?" Emma asked.

"I wouldn't know—"

"You're his mother. I don't believe the Author can erase that. Not with all his magic."

Regina shook her head. "I was a princess once. And all that went away. Even if he was my son—it can go away like that. Everything can be taken away."

"Then help me. Because I see him pulling away from me when I'm supposed to be there for him to cling to—last night he wasn't seeing the sights, he wanted to be alone, and I don't want him to be! Only I never had anyone either. I don't know how to make this stuff better. I don't know how to lie like that."

Regina fisted the log next to her. Emma sat down beside her. "Snow White was a good mother—for a while. I might've picked up a few things."

I wouldn't know, Emma thought, then wondered how she could be bitter about that but not at the woman whose fault it was.

"Maybe he hasn't said what's hurting him," Regina continued, "but that doesn't mean you can't see the knife sticking out of him."

"Hook," Emma said.

Regina blinked. "I didn't think my metaphor really needed to be any more grisly…"

"No, no, Captain Hook, Killian. We were together in Storybrooke—Henry was kinda getting used to the idea of the three of us. Then, here, he helped Henry rescue me. And he died, helping us escape."

Regina drew herself up, her feet uncertainly trailing over the forest floor. "Your True Love?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know—you're taking it very well."

"Well, by this place's standards, I guess I'm supposed to be swearing eternal vengeance and conquering the world, so…" Emma shook her head. "Once we break the curse, everything'll go back to normal. He'll be alive—none of this will have ever happened."

Regina nodded for her. "I hope you're right. Still, it must be awful. Seeing that happen to someone you love."

Emma's head shook again. "It's not real. This world, it's just like a movie. Nothing that happens in it is—I'm numb to this. All the years passing, all the chains and bars, it's just a dream. That's different in the real world. When you see something there, you can't look away."

"You've lost people?"

"Yeah. It hurt like hell. I've thought you were dead, once or twice. The other you, she'll sacrifice herself at the drop of a hat."

Regina clinched her hands nobly. "Anything for my darling Robin," she said in a falsetto voice.

"For the entire town. Or Henry. Or, you know, me."

"Well… wouldn't want to lose someone who enjoys my cooking."

Emma smiled. Thought how dumb she was not to realize that Regina wanted to cheer her as much as Henry.

In Regina's own careful way.

"Can I tell you something?" Emma asked.

"Well, I'm apparently a figment of a hack writer's imagination, so go ahead."

Emma smiled sourly at her. "You're you, even with someone slapping on a fresh coat of paint. Trust me. I recognize you."

"Okay then. Tell your best friend who doesn't remember you everything."

"I spent so many years apart from Killian in that cell, I thought I would be so happy seeing him again. And I tried to be, but I think it was just—seeing Henry and getting out, all of it, just this adrenaline rush. Because losing him, it hurt, but I don't feel it anymore. It's just like this sting. I'm here with you, and Henry—my family—and I forget all about it. It's like… like I had a crush on him, and it passed, and I expected it to just start up again and… it didn't."

Regina nodded. "Tell me—did he pursue you or you him?"

"Normally, here's where I'd tell you off for thinking one person has to be pursuing the other, but yeah—he pursued me."

Another nod. "Sometimes a person can want to be in love with us so badly that we want to be in love with them too. There's nothing wrong with them. They make us feel certain things. But we know deep down—we're not together in it. They're in the thing, and we just can't be there with them. One of life's little charms."

"Gee, Regina, you make it all sound so lovely."

Regina looked up at the stars again. "They do it to themselves. Fool themselves into thinking they deserve something—but I think they know, if it's real or forced. In love, you can fight to be together, but you can't fight to feel something. Make something real when it's as made-up as a story in a book."

Emma looked out at the woods. Miles of them. They seemed darker than the forest outside Storybrooke. There was some knowledge she held that in the real world, the woods were an obstruction to civilization—patches of nature criss-crossed by airplanes and roads and power lines. And here, civilization was surrounded by nature. It pressed in on all sides. You didn't visit it, you submerged yourself in it.

"Henry's going to be fine," she said. "We'll get back to Storybrooke, and Killian will be alive again, and you'll be his mother again, and if he's still hurting, then we'll deal with it together. All of us. We'll be a family again."

The moonlight came down on Regina's upturned face, making it look slightly spectral with the darkness obscuring all the details of her body, the hard life that'd marked her so, made her clothing armor instead of anything else. "I'm glad it makes you happy to think so."

Emma growled "Don't you want that?"

"Become another person, be in love with a man I barely know—sounds like I'm a princess again. Only my father never would've married me off so callously."

"It's not like that, I'm fixing you!"

"The woman you miss so much seems just as broken as me."

Emma growled again, this time in frustration, as she stood sharply. "Can we just get some sleep? It's that damned wagon ride. Sitting around all day sapped our energy, and we're all feeling like assholes, and in the morning, when we get some exercise and some fresh air, everything'll seem better."

"I'm sure it will."

Emma clenched her teeth on yet another growl. She never would've guessed that Regina agreeing with her could be so much more annoying than the Mayor of Storybrooke giving her hell. "What's the payment, anyway?"

Regina blinked at her. "Payment?"

"For tomorrow. Getting us that much closer to our happy endings. What do you want? Another kiss? Another dance? What?"

Regina shook her head. "Nothing." She stood, seeming weary, old, cracking her neck explosively once she'd reached her full height.

"You've gotta want something. You've been a big help to us. I could rub your feet, I could sing an embarrassing song…"

"No charge," Regina insisted. "I'll take you there, but I don't want anything from you."

Emma fired her hands downward. "Well, why the hell not?"

Regina resisted the urge to throw her hands up. It would feel too much like a fight. "I don't know, because I'm a great big bloody hero, just like you said, and heroes don't accept payments for helping damsels in distress and lost little boys."

She tried to walk past Emma. Emma stepped in front of her, close, blonde hair glowing silver in the moonlight. It almost hurt Regina's eyes, it was so bright.

"You liked kissing me," Emma said. "You liked when I danced for you."

"Emma, I'm tired."

"What do you want from me?" Emma demanded. "You can have anything. Anything you want."

"Not anything—" Regina said wearily.

Emma undid her vest. It parted without a sound, flowed down her back and became just another fallen leaf on the ground. Her white blouse shimmered with light, as ethereal as the mist on the mossy glen or the glint of sweat down her neck.

"Anything," Emma insisted. She tried to joke. "We're not in the champagne room…"

Regina fixed her with a glare and for a moment Emma tasted the Evil Queen, all that rage and pain and need that she could stab into someone like a knife. "I want you to kiss me because you want to, not because you've got an excuse."

Emma hadn't known what she wanted until just that moment, and then, she wanted it more than she'd wanted anything in her life. She wanted Regina to be looking at her like this, speaking to her like this. She wanted to be the one who had all of Regina. She kissed her like she would never do anything else.

But that wasn't enough for Emma. Nothing seemed like it could ever be enough. She kept kissing Regina, pulling at her clothes, Regina fighting to get her own clothes off faster than Emma could. Emma wanted to kiss all of Regina's nakedness, show every bit of her how loved she was.

Finally, they fell into a kind of lockstep. Emma ripping Regina's clothes away as Regina tried, with desperate methodicalness, to remove Emma's clothes in any kind or order. Emma found herself shivering, flesh goosepimpling as the cold forest air rushed in under her loosening clothes. Easy solution: she pulled Regina against her, crushing their warmth together.

Regina finally broke the stunned silence between them. She moaned with Emma's head between her breasts, lips tangling with her left nipple. Then, as Emma tried frantically to pull down Regina's leggings, she somehow just pulled up Regina's legs instead, getting them wrapped around her own waist as she bore Regina to the ground, the fall somehow not interrupting their protract, bodily kiss. She kissed the undersides of Regina's breast, the sensitive flesh's interrogation sending Regina into an elaborate gasp as Emma shoved at her trouser's waistline, skirting it down Regina's hips.

"Kiss me again," Regina begged as Emma kept lowering herself down her body, kissing her belly now. Scars, burns, a hundred stories Emma didn't know, but she wanted to erase all of them so that there was only her. "Please, Emma, my lips—"

The dip in Regina's voice, needy and vulnerable, was more tempting than any come-on Regina could ever make. All Emma could do was keep to her momentum, not stop moving until she had what she wanted. Regina's undergarments weren't the RenFaire For Dummies kind Emma had adopted—by Regina's standards, Emma thought she must've been going commando. And Emma had no patience to learn about high fantasy Spanx. She ripped into them, tore through them, not stopping until there was nothing between her mouth and Regina's sex.

"Oh!" Regina said, more surprised than anything else, but the way her legs clenched at Emma's head—the way her gate clenched at Emma's tongue—told her more than dirty talk ever could.

MINE, Emma spelled out with her tongue. No matter what the realm, what the circumstances, who they were or who they'd been, she wouldn't let this—them—ever be anyone else's. It was far too precious. No one but her knew what to do with it. Not even Fate.

"Stop, sto—" Regina groaned, and Emma immediately pulled away, her own lust shrinking to nothingness in the face of her concern over Regina.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Regina assured her, smiling goofily at her own foolishness. She reached down to pet Emma's face. "That was—wonderful. Just… too much wonderful? Slower? Please?"

"Slower," Emma agreed. She kissed Regina's belly, soft, lingering. "Just tell me whatever you want, okay? I just want this to be good for you."

"Then keep going," Regina told her, with a little bit of Mayor Mills demand in her voice. "And if you want to go fast—just wait a little while. Until I'm ready."

"Let's get you ready then," Emma said, and kissed lower. Gently. Savoring the little taste, the heat she felt on her lips that went right down between her legs. A slow, flickering flame she was stroking in both of them.

She had to remember: this wasn't her Regina. Not yet, not totally… she wasn't the Evil Queen, not even the Mayor. The armor wasn't as thick. She could take it off, if only for the right person.

"Emma…" Regina's lips formed the word slowly, tentatively, like it was a word in a new language.

Then Regina moaned, small, timid sound, as nervous to express her pleasure as she was to name who was causing it. Her hands glided down her body, but only to clinch in the hem of her shirt. Emma peppered Regina's inner thigh with kisses, hoping the fast, hot strikes of her lips so close to her sex wouldn't be too much for Regina, then treated Regina to a leisurely lash of her tongue, finding Regina's need, answering it.

"Emma!" Regina said, louder, more confidently, her fingers white-knuckled around the tattered remains of her clothes. Their eyes met as the tip of Emma's tongue met her clit; then Regina's head flew back, mouth open, the sound a paralyzed croak against her own balled fist.

One hand remained lost in the neutral zone between Regina's body and the portion Emma had claimed. Emma reached up to it, her eyes once more locking with Regina's as she took hold of Regina's hand, loosened it, guided it down to her own face. She kissed it, rubbed it over her face, then wound it around her hair. Regina looked overwhelmed. She'd been afraid to touch Emma, afraid of the feel of her. Her other hand came down, caressing Emma's face, thumb tracing her lips, Emma kissed the heel of her hand before it went to the crown of her head and nudged her down. Then, safely in Regina's grip, she returned to her lover's pleasure.

"Emma!" It was a scream, now.

Regina's body was a sheen of sweat, the sight of her rapturous within her ravished nudity, her breasts heaving, her perfect skin aglow, a surprised and shockingly genuine smile twitching with every touch between them. Emma imagined her naked ass wagging in the air wasn't an eyesore either. But all they could look at was each other's eyes. Regina's were pleading, open and full of need, no restraint, nothing held back. Nonetheless, she would leave nothing to chance.

"Please," She said, her smile momentarily faltering. "I need..."

"Always," Emma promised her. She reached up to one of Regina's hands, it released from her head, fingers finding a fit with Emma's. Their palms met as Emma licked Regina again, more, faster now, but only as much as Regina wanted. Her thumb stroked the back of Emma's hand. Her hand in Emma's hair was soft, with a cooing touch across Emma's scalp. Emma felt a kind of peace, even as her need for Regina became that of an addict.

Regina's eyes relaxed as she realized this was real, that Emma was real, that she could have this and it wouldn't go away, leave her, abandon her, be taken from her. It was hers. She gave herself to it fully.

"Take... take me." Her eyes closed. She knew Emma would be there when she opened them. Another lick. Tingles soared up her body. She only wished she could kiss Emma, as if that would somehow share the pleasure she was feeling. She desperately wanted Emma to feel as passionate as she was. She wanted it to be something only the two of them had ever felt.

Emma stopped suddenly, Regina's sex wet and hot and ready but nothing was happening, the heat was lingering but burning no hotter, and Regina opened her eyes and saw Emma crawling up her body, lying beside her.

"I was about to—"

"I know," Emma said soothingly, rubbing Regina's thigh. "I know. It's better this way. Put your arms around me."

Regina did, trusting Emma over her own doomsaying body, and Emma put one arm around her body, holding them tightly together as her other hand skated down Regina's flesh, between Regina's legs, touched her with callused fingers but the same hungry need, the same desperation to satisfy Regina that the bandit now could not help but think of as uniquely Emma Swan.

"First time?" Emma asked, her fingers inside Regina-in places Regina hadn't known were to be touched, were to be pleasured, when they were so obviously meant for that. Meant for Emma.

"First time in a long while. First time... like this," Regina finished awkwardly, and Emma smiled. She knew exactly what Regina meant.

"Kiss me when you finish," Emma said, and her fingers... there was a place inside Regina that held all the pleasure in her body and Emma's fingers were so close to it, so close...

Their eyes met. It had been breathtaking across the span of Regina's body. Nose to nose, it was overwhelming. Emma saw more than pleading in Regina's eyes. There was nothing to beg for. There was just gratitude, affection, warmth... more. So much more.

Regina threw her lips to Emma's neck, unable to find her lips in the mad rush of sudden clenching, sudden wetness, sudden tension and sudden release. Her mouth fell open, panting gasps at Emma's jugular as she tried to express something that could never be words, or any of the foul animal noises that might capture her satisfaction but nothing else. Emma stilled her fingers, wanting to try and prolong Regina's pleasure but afraid of overdoing it again. Regina's cunt massaged her fingers, all of the strength of her body there, none in Regina's head as it lulled back, mouth still open, shuddering low-pitched gasps now escaping from her voicelessness.

Emma took her hand away when she was sure Regina was too satisfied to enjoy it, too relaxed for it to twinge. Regina's mouth still hung open. Emma closed it for her, kissed the join of her lips, and Regina's mouth dropped again. This time into a smile. The kind of grin Emma usually only saw on Regina when she was burning something.

"I adore you," Regina laughed.

"Oh, so that's what you were doing," Emma said. "Adoring me."

Regina tucked her head under Emma's chin, face lost in the warmth of her chest, and Emma held her there. She didn't know how she knew just how much Regina needed to be there; she just knew. It felt as right as she remembered their magic being.