Lovelies! So good to see you again! Here is day 3 of the '12 Days of Outlaw Queen Christmas AU's!' This one spawns from a favorite movie of mine, but I have taken a bit of a darker twist to go along with tonight's ONCE episode - super excited to see the return of the Evil Queen! Do enjoy! And one big massive thank you to all of the new followers here & on Warm Hearts! (If you're looking for something light and fluffy after you read this one I implore you check it out!)

I've decided that if we hit 100 follows before the 20th chapter, I may post an extra chapter early... (Say The Cabin part 3!)so tell your friends!

PS a big thanks to Inquisitive Dreamer who has gone from being a reader to a friend to a beta! Thank's for taking a once over & correcting my grammar! And to whomever made the fan art for this piece - you can find it on my Twitter - you definitely inspired the writing process!

Prompt: Mr. & Mrs. Smith

She hoisted her rifle. Target acquired. This was going to be easy.

"Okay Mills, steady."

"I know Swan."

"Well we wouldn't want you to shoot too soon and blow off a hundred million dollars by tipping him off that were on to him now, huh?"

She rolled her eyes. She hated it when Swan was right.

"This guys one of the best and if we miss this, who knows how long it will be until he surfaces again." Swan spoke, coming out in bites from the com in her ear.

Regina adjusted the phones until they were half-on-half-off, just covering her eardrum.

"Okay," came the voice through her phones again, "Wait! Mills he's heading out the southwards door, repeat he's heading out the southwards door!"

"Got it!"

Regina jumped up, quickly picking up the mount that her gun was placed on. It retracted into itself and she shot off. They had been after this guy for months, and she wasn't going to miss him now.

He was good, but she was better.

She bolted across the roof top, jumping a few stray garbage bags, making her way to the spot covering the southward exit.

She got there just in time, dropping low and assuming her position. She put her eye on the sight and saw him just as he was making his way out.

6 foot exact, light hair, wearing a sharp suit.

He looked every part the pompous ass that he was. He was once the best assassin the world had ever know. But nearly overnight, he had gone from highly revered to the worlds most wanted. The story went, he had been on a hit. In pursuit of his mark, and somewhere in the process of tracking the mark had gotten away. In a fit of rage he had shot down and killed a squadron of innocent men and women, leaving nothing behind but their lifeless corpses.

That was what attracted her people to the case, that was what got her on the hit.

She was as cold hearted as killer they came. She could kill anyone at the drop of a hat. She had no qualms when it came to pulling the trigger on a criminal. That's why she was the best.

But when it came to unjustified murder, she drew a line.

Today she was going to nail the Robin Hood killer.

She steadied her gun, drawing in a deep breath and lining up the sight.

When she set it up, all parts in place she curled her finger around the trigger and waited.

He was currently surrounded by a small entourage of people. Probably workers of his that had no idea of the crimes he had committed.

She could make the shot if she wanted, she had the best eye in the business, but the words of her partner swirled around in her head. Only get one shot, don't want to mess this up.

Swan was right. So she held her breath and waited.

He extended a hand to a brawny looking man and gave a hug to an overly large fellow and then began to back away.

This was her chance! She steadied herself.

"Okay Mills, here it comes. You can do this."

Her fingers curled around the trigger.

He disentangled himself from the man.

She breathed in.

He took a step forward.

She closed one eye.

He turned around to wave at the crowd.

She focused in on his chest. Aiming right for his heart when she caught a glimpse of his face.

"Okay, Mills now!"

She pulled her finger back and - "Wait!"

"Mills! Pull the trigger! Mills!? What are you waiting for?!"

Regina tore the com from her ears. The cold air immediately penetrated her face as she stood up, her short hair whipping around her ears.

It couldn't be.

The man turned his body just right, facing her and she froze. Her blood turned to ice as his eyes connected with hers.

She recognized those eyes. That jawline. That hair.

The man who they had been after for months. The one that had been keeping her up for countless nights, following his trail of murders like bread crumbs. The one that she had dedicated her life to finding and bringing to justice. The one that she had finally surfaced about a week ago, in her hometown, nonetheless. The one that she was currently standing on a rooftop, ready to kill, had been living right under her nose. In her own city. In her own house.

His eyes blinked and he turned around.

He was none other than her husband.

xxx

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

"What are you yelling about Mills?"

"You know damn well what I'm yelling about!" Regina howled. She tore the com from where it was dangling dangerously around her neck and yanked it off. She had half a mind to pull her gun straight up to Swan's head but she decided against it in a split second. She knew better ways to torture Emma Swan. Starting with her finger nails. She would make her squeal.

"You might want to take a moment, collect yourself and get your shit straight cause it's not me your going to be reporting to," Swan said.

"What?!" Regina bellowed.

The door behind the blonde agent, with her hands out in as nonthreatening of a pose that she could muster, opened.

"You'll be reporting to me."

Regina snapped her eyes up, but she knew the voice long before her eyes connected with the body it belonged to.

The one woman in all of the agency that she despised. The only one that made her dislike her job just enough to push her to the edge of entertaining the thought of pointing the barrel at her own brain and pulling the trigger if it meant getting away from her. The one woman that could make her blood boil by her existence alone.

The only person she couldn't kill.

There was the tightly cropped, dark pixie haircut. The perfectly heart shaped face atop of the soft outer exterior. The ever present innocent smile that made Regina's rage kick in without even a word.

There in the door was her former pupil and now commanding officer.

M.M. Blanchard.

xxx

She remembered when she first met him. Out in Bogota.

The purple sun had set, wishing it's farewell to the morning and welcoming in the night.

The city seemed to have a life about it. It was buzzing, humming to the sensual tune of a Spanish guitar.

She had spotted him across the abandoned courtyard. The dazzling sun and swaying tree's had distorted her view for a moment, but she had seen all she needed.

She knew it was him. She couldn't mistake what he had looked like.

Sandy blonde hair, combed back ever so lightly, standing out like a ocean in the desert, telling any passersby without speaking that he was definitely not from these parts.

A strong frame and well sculpted arms. Dressed in all white, the top buttons of his loose shirt undone, letting the sweat glisten off of his bare chest in the heat.

She had known then that he was the one for her.

He had spotted her when she walked in to the little restaurant after him. Her hips swaying, the sunrays highlighting the outline of her curvaceous figure beneath her little white dress, making her glow.

When they had danced there had been no music playing. But they hadn't needed it. They had felt it in their bodies, following to the rhythm of their souls. As if theirs were both meant to find one another. To be together.

And when they had kissed. There was no tenderness to it. It was raw, unbridled passion.

They had been made for each other, of that she was sure.

It had only taken that one night, spent together under the stars, in the heat of the Colombian moon for her to know. He was the one.

They had been married soon after.

"And's that's how it happened?"

"Yes," Regina grunted. She was tired of answering Blanchard's inane questions about her marriage. She wanted to know why? Why she had been sent, of all people, to complete this mark. Why it had been her husband? She was normally the one that lived and breathed their motto: 'trust the system.' But now? Now she wasn't so sure.

Had they known? Had they known the whole time that he was the guy and they sent her because they wanted to test her loyalty?

Surly there had been a mistake.

"We don't make mistakes, Mills," Blanchard began, as if she had just read her mind. Regina suddenly felt very violated. "People do."

"So what your saying is that my whole marriage? Everything that I thought was true in my life, that was all a mistake? Human error?"

"That's completely opposite of what I'm saying."

Regina shook her head, brows knitting together in confusion.

"No," Blanchard continued, "That was most definitely not a mistake. Keep your friends close and enemies closer. What better way to cover a killer than by planting them right inside your best agents house. There bed even. No, Regina, it looks like your marriage was well thought out. Planned to the nth degree."

Regina cringed at the woman's use of her name. It was as if she were trying to use their past as a way to connect to her. But Regina had long since buried that, along with the memories of her life before the system. Back when she had been a young girl, so in love and blind to everything happening in the world.

"We're dealing with a force that was bigger than we initially imagined. There's someone working behind the scenes with Hood, making all of his murders look just like that, murders. Instead of what they really are."

"And what is that?" Regina asked, not able to tear her face away from the blown up image on the screen. It was her husbands full face profile.

She could make out the stubble, the strong jawline and the scar over his left eye that she had given him when he had snuck up on her chopping vegetable's one night before dinner.

She knew everything about that face. About the body that was connected to it. Where to touch, to rile him up, where to caress when he needed comfort. How to kiss to bring him the most pleasure and how to hold him when he needed her. And she knew his soul.

Or at least what she had thought was his soul.

She had been attracted to him because of his exterior and the way their souls seemed to sing when they were together. She had married him because of how full he made her life and how easy of a cover he would make for her, being gone all the time for work. But she had loved him because of the way that he made her feel when he was with her, like she was a Queen.

And now she was finding out that all of that wasn't true?

Blanchard moved towards the large desk in the corner of the room, reaching below and procuring a file from a hidden drawer.

"Covers," she replied in answer to a question Regina had asked nearly five minutes before.

Blanchard set the thick file down on the coffee table to the left, dust particles escaping in the air.

"Looks like he might not even know what he's in." Blanchard continued.

Regina picked up the beige folder. The file's crinkled under the hands and she could feel the dust under the pads of her fingers as she wiped off the cover.

There, under her fingers, in big bold print, was her husband's name, but under it, in smaller letters was another that she would not soon forget.

Robin Locksley

aka The Robin Hood killer.

Regina felt the breath leave her lungs as if she had been slammed into a brick wall by a semi tuck. Tears were beginning to well up, stinging the backs of her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. She wouldn't. No matter how much it pained her physically, she would not cry in front of Blanchard.

"Regina?" Came the voice of the woman.

That did it.

It was only one. One single, solitary tear. But it was one to many. Rolling out of her tear duct, trickling excruciatingly slow down her cheek, like it was marking the betrayal on her face like a map.

Regina could feel Blanchard's small hands on her back, rubbing circles, as if she were trying to comfort her like one comforts a crying baby. Softly, hesitantly, lovingly. Like she was operating under the fear that if she pushed to hard Regina might crack. Shattering quietly into a thousand small pieces.

Regina hated it. She hated her. The girl that she had grown up with. Who had been her friend. The girl that could do no wrong. The one that her mother had prized so much, she ha even chosen her over her own daughter. The perfect Mary Margret.

And yet she couldn't find a reason to kill her. Well she had many reasons, but none were justifiable.

But right now it wasn't Mary Margret that she was mad at. It was her husband.

She quickly felt her tears pull back, replaced by her rage. It simmered under the surface. Bubbling under her skin.

She could feel it building. Building.

It wasn't Blanchard that had done this, it was him. The man that she called her other half, the one that she had given her heart too, the one that she had whispered a heartfelt 'I love you,' to before parting with him a morning before.

Robin.

It was Robin who had lied to her. He wasn't the simple white collar man she thought he was. No, he was a trained killer. The same as her, she reminded herself. But this was different. He was psychotic.

Her vision swarmed. Her thoughts all muddling together. All she could see was red.

Regina felt if she didn't get some air soon she would explode from the emotions coursing through her.

He would pay.

"Regina," Blanchard tried again.

"Don't call me that." Regina spat, the fury fuming out of her in waves.

Blanchard nodded, this time talking directly, "We are left no choice. You know what we have to do?"

Regina felt the rage boil over.

"We have to make him pay."

"No, we have to take him out."

Regina nodded her head, "Even better."

"I'll get Swan on it right away."

"Don't you dare!" Regina said, nearly yelling, but she caught herself at the last moment. "He is my husband, my mark, my case, my kill."

"Regina?" Blanchard questioned, drawing out the 'na' like they were children again and she was coddling her.

This time she did yell, "I said don't call me that!"

"You're not stable enough for this. You're too attached. As director I have no choice, under good conscious I can't send you in, I have to send someone else and Swan's the next best pick."

Regina stood to match the short woman before her, fury evident in her stance but at that moment the monotone voice that announced visitors to the office went off and Swan burst in in a furry of blonde curls.

"Mills!" Came the woman's voice.

"What is this Swan?" Blanchard said.

"I'm sorry to barge in Director, but you've got to see this."

Swan went ahead, hooking up the USB in her hands to the laptop on the Directors desk. Regina and Blanchard both turned, facing the wall as the images popped up onto the screen.

"Lucas broke through their code," Swan explained, pulling up files quickly, as if she were searching for one specifically. Finding it she stopped, pointing to the screen. "There."

"What am I looking at?" Blanchard spoke again.

Regina scanned the document that was now encompassing the entirety of the wall. When she found the part that Swan was pointing to she stopped cold.

She now understood what had made the woman come crashing into the office like a crazed person. She understood the look of fear deeply set in her wide eyes.

They were orders. Orders for him. Orders to kill.

And underneath, in bold print, was one name.

Regina Mills.

do leave your requests in the comments! And if you're a guest, please, leave a name so I know what to call you if I use your prompt! x