A/N: This is part 2 of 2 and includes more ridiculousness. If you thought part 1 was weird, well, you ain't seen nothing yet.

Part 2: The road to hell is paved with queen-sized beds

Regina answered the door, and Emma took a quick look around behind her before darting inside.

"Quick, lock the door and pull the blinds down. We need to make sure the house is secure."

"What's going on?" Regina eyed Emma suspiciously.

"If your phone rings, ignore it. If there's someone at the door, don't answer it. If you hear an explosion or the sound of distant screams, don't check it out. I don't want us to be interrupted."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "I had no idea you were so desperate to get me alone, dear. I'd have taken a little more care choosing my outfit if I'd known." Her lips curved into a seductive smile, as she brushed an invisible speck of lint off her sleeve and patted her hair to make sure it was looking its best.

"What?" Emma shook her head, confused. "Not important. What I wanted to talk to you about is the series of strange events we've been subjected to over the past four years."

"Strange events? I am… was… the Evil Queen, and your parents are Snow White and Prince Charming. I would have thought you'd realised by now that strange kind of goes with the territory."

Emma waved her hand dismissively. "Yeah, I know all of that. But I have good evidence that there is a broader scheme at work here. Have you ever wondered why we always seem to be getting trapped together in strange places, or how I keep tripping over things that shouldn't be there, or how sometimes we both just do things that don't make any sense?"

"Honestly, nothing you do makes sense to me, dear."

"But do you sometimes feel like someone or something else is interfering directly with your thoughts and actions?"

Regina frowned. "Dr Hopper made me take that test. The correct answer is no."

"Wait. Let me start over." Emma wracked her brain for a way to explain the combination of instinct, paranoia and somewhat flimsy evidence she'd gathered that pointed to a conspiracy centred on herself and Regina.

"I found a surveillance device, a while ago and I asked an old friend to look into it for me, see if he could find out who planted it. He couldn't find out exactly who had planted it, but during the course of his research, he stumbled upon some concerning online chatter that strongly suggested that there is someone out there orchestrating events in Storybrooke. Events specifically related to you and me."

"So why didn't you bring this to my attention earlier?" Regina was furious to discover that once again, she was just a pawn in someone else's game.

"I tried. Every time I tried to start a conversation about it, something weird happened and I got distracted. And we've kind of hardly seen each other in the last three years."

"What about Neverland?"

"I was pretty focused on getting our son back safe and sound."

"Fair enough. You could have called me, though."

"I tried. Every time I started to dial your number, a flying monkey swooped down and stole my phone. I lost three brand-new iPhones that way."

"Oh." Regina frowned. "I guess that explains these text messages then." She handed her phone to Emma.

"Oh, god. You actually thought I sent you this?" Emma shook her head as she read them out. "Hey Gina. You, me, a banana split with extra whipped cream and a Planet of the Apes marathon. How about it?"

"Now that I think about it, it does seem implausible."

"You bet your ass. You know that I know that you'd set my hair on fire if I called you Gina."

"That's true." She really didn't want to do that. Such pretty, pretty hair, like spun silk kissed by the sun. She wanted to… unf…

"And anyway, I told you ages ago that I'm allergic to bananas."

Regina frowned. "You're actually allergic? I just thought that was a euphemism."

"A euphe-what? Never mind." Emma continued scrolling through the messages. "And really, this one? You can be the Evil Queen of my jungle anytime. Obscene-winky-smiley-face. Does that sound like me?"

"Alright. I'm sorry, I just thought you were trolling me. There was another one that said something about kale salad, root beer and a park bench."

Emma blushed. "That one was actually mine."

"Oh." Regina thought about exploring that revelation further, but there was more pressing business at hand. Maybe later. "So why didn't you use your landline?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "I can never get near it. My mother spends most of her day calling TV psychics. And when she's not on it, Henry's tying up the line talking to his girlfriend."

"What about the phone at the station?"

"Didn't want to get busted for using city resources for personal stuff." Emma shrugged. "You were always a bit of a hardass about that. Remember that time you made me shine all your shoes with my tongue because I used a post-it note from the stationery closet to write a shopping list?"

That was a rather pleasant memory. "You could have written me a letter."

"I tried. One of my mother's bastard bluebirds stole it out of my hand. I tried to shoot it and get the note back, but it crapped on my car and flew off. I gave up at that point. I mean, what other option did I have?"

"Sky-writing? Strip-o-gram?" Regina frowned. "Why didn't you try a strip-o-gram? I could have done with a pleasant distraction once or twice in the past couple of years."

Emma shrugged. "I actually did look into that possibility. The only person who does them in town is Leroy, and no one needs to see that."

Regina shuddered. "I wish you hadn't told me that."

"Anyway, my friend tipped me off to a lead that we should follow; he gave me an address in LA. I managed to book us a flight on Oceanic Airlines out of Portland. It leaves tomorrow afternoon." She'd just assumed that Regina would be coming with her, and it seemed that in this, at least, Emma had got it right.

"We're flying first class, right?"

Emma shook her head. "Nope. Some of us didn't curse ourselves to be rich beyond dreams of avarice. Cattle class it is, on a low-cost carrier. That's all I can afford with the lousy wage the city pays me."

"Stop angling for a raise, dear. You know we don't have the budget with all the repairs we've had to make over the past couple of years."

Emma felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked at the alert she'd just received. "Fuck. I just got a message saying that Oceanic Airlines has been grounded indefinitely by the Civil Aviation Authority for safety violations. That was the only flight I could get out of Portland for the next two weeks; we're going to have to find another way."

"We should look for flights out of Boston."

They searched for flights; the earliest they could get was a flight in two days time, and it would have to be first class.

Regina gloated, while Emma mentally calculated how many months she would have to live on nothing but instant ramen to afford her ticket. Six months. Damn. Maybe I can get Henry to invite me over to dinner more often…

The morning they were due to leave, Emma commenced her usual crawl to the breakfast table. David frowned at her and handed her the newspaper.

"I've got some bad news."

Emma screwed up her face; she felt unequipped to deal with bad news until she'd had at least two coffees.

She sighed. "Just tell me."

"There's been a volcanic eruption and the entire United States airspace is filled with volcanic ash. All flights are grounded. Indefinitely."

There really wasn't much that Emma could say to that. "Damn."

She finished her coffee and then called Regina.

"Have you seen the news this morning? We're not going to be flying anywhere for a very long time. Some volcano with too many consonants in its name has erupted and the entire US airspace is closed."

"Fuck, shit, fuck. Fucking fuckers. Fuck." Regina so rarely swore, so it was doubly shocking to Emma when she did. It was kind of like hearing a nun swear, albeit a nun who wore tops with ridiculously low necklines and sinfully dark lipstick. Okay, so not like a nun at all. Emma held the phone away from her ear until she was sure that the stream of invective was over.

"So, are you up for a road trip?" Emma half-expected another torrent of curses. She was surprised by the meek capitulation on Regina's part.

"Sure. We're taking the Mercedes though."

"Well, yeah. No argument here. As much as I love my Bug, I don't want to drive 3000 miles in a car with dodgy cooling. Listen, I'll come over and we can plan this out properly."

Emma drove over to 108 Mifflin. As she walked into the front garden, she was surprised to see the Mercedes sitting up on blocks, its wheels missing. Regina's going to be pissed. She rang the doorbell and waited.

Regina answered the door and Emma eyed her cautiously, trying to gauge her mood. "When's the last time you drove the Mercedes?"

"Yesterday. Why?"

Emma cringed away pre-emptively. "You might want to take a look at the car."

Regina rushed outside, and Emma was once again impressed with the speed and grace with which Regina managed to travel on a pair of precariously high heels. Emma jogged over to where Regina was standing, hands on hips, clearly furious.

Regina turned to face her, and the look in her eyes could have melted Tungsten. "I blame you, Sheriff, for the growing crime problem in Storybrooke." She sighed. "I'm going to call Michael Tillman and see if he can source me some new wheels."

Regina pulled out her phone and dialled the garage. Michael had just picked when Regina was distracted by a strange creaking sound and then a crack as loud as a thunder clap. She watched in horror as an enormous oak tree came crashing down on top of the Mercedes. Emma looked over at Regina who was standing there, stunned.

Regina sobbed quietly to herself. What a waste. Such a fine piece of German engineering. Her beautiful car had not deserved such a terrible fate. It had never hurt anything, apart from Snow White's ugly floral hat the time she'd repeatedly driven over it. She couldn't understand why it was that everything she loved was taken from her. She looked around for someone to blame, someone to lash out at, but Snow White was nowhere to be seen.

"Looks like we're taking the Bug."

"You must be so pleased," Regina snarled.

Emma shook her head. "Not really. I was kind of looking forward to driving something with a little more power than a lawn mower." She reached over and patted Regina's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I know how much you loved that car."

After they'd recovered from their latest setback they eventually got on the road. Emma had looked incredulously at the enormous pile of luggage Regina had stacked at the bottom of the stairs. She had only brought a small duffel bag, with the essentials.

Emma grumbled as Regina stood by and watched her carry the cases out to the car. "Why can't you use magic for this?"

Regina had snapped at her, "Why don't you?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "I'd probably turn your luggage into a pile of rotting fish heads, or something, by accident."

Regina smiled in a fashion somewhat akin to a piranha. "Well you'll just have to keep carrying them then."

Regina watched as Emma lifted another of her cases, enjoying the play of muscles in well-toned arms. The pain of her loss was still sharply acute, but Emma's gun show was certainly proving to be a welcome distraction. I wonder if she'd notice if I added a couple more suitcases to the pile?

Emma wiped the sweat off her brow as she carried yet another case out to the car, wondering what Regina had packed to make these suitcases so damn heavy. "You know we're just going on a road trip, right? We're not moving to LA permanently."

An hour into the trip, Regina was still mourning her car. She pulled a face at the sensation of cheap vinyl seats against her skin, and the smell of grilled cheese and donuts that had engulfed her the moment she got into the car. She missed the cool, expensive feel of high-grade leather and the subtle scent of leather conditioner that she lovingly applied once a week. Most of all, she missed the trunk that was big enough to transport two dead bodies; Emma had made her leave behind two of her suitcases, claiming that if she took them all, there wouldn't be enough room for her small duffel bag. She was outraged at the lack of consideration Emma had shown; what if there was an occasion that demanded a full-length ermine-trimmed robe? What would she do then? It simply wouldn't do.

She was jolted out of her reverie when Emma spoke. "You can choose the music."

Allowing someone to look at the contents of your iPod is kind of like fisting, Regina reflected. It requires a level of trust and intimacy that is simply not possible for most people. Regina, herself, had never thought that she would be capable of that level of openness with another person, that level of soul-baring honesty, but for Emma Swan, she thought she just might be. If only Emma would get with the program. As a result, was surprised when Emma handed over her iPod and gave Regina carte blanche to explore. Regina frowned as she scrolled through the contents. Sarah McLachlan, Missy Higgins, Indigo Girls, Tegan and Sara, Ani DiFranco... Regina rolled her eyes. There's a river in Egypt…

"Do you have anything on here that's a little more road-trip-appropriate, perhaps something a little less Lilith Fair circa 1999?"

"Hey! That's some A-grade road-trip music you're dissing." Emma glanced over at Regina who looked unconvinced. "Okay, there's a playlist called 'other'. Maybe there's something a bit more your speed in there."

Regina navigated to the playlist and grinned widely. "Springsteen! Now that's the ticket."

They drove for a few hours, leaving Storybrooke far behind. They found a hotel in Springfield, which turned out to have only one room available, with a Queen-sized bed. Emma suggested that they look elsewhere, but the desk clerk shook his head and explained that there was an international dentistry convention in town and that they'd been lucky to find a room at all.

Emma had been pacing the room for the past hour, and Regina looked up from the book she was trying to read and made an exasperated sound.

"Dear, why don't you go down to the hotel bar for a drink so that I can read in peace?"

Emma looked at her with horror in her eyes. "I can't even believe you'd suggest that; the bar will be crawling with dentists. No one should have to be exposed to that many middle-aged white men in Hawaiian shirts."

"I'm not sure that you're in a position to judge, paragon of fashion that you are." Regina's tone was drier than the Sahara.

"Hey, this look is a classic."

"Only if by classic, you mean hobo-chic."

Secretly, Regina dreaded the possibility that Emma might stop wearing tank tops and skinny jeans. Storybrooke would be so much less scenic without that view. Therefore, she made every possible effort to rile Emma up about her wardrobe, recognising the powerful motivation that Emma's stubborn, bloody-minded desire to irritate her provided.

Emma continued to pace, and Regina threw down her book in frustration, having only made it through two pages in the past half hour.

"Why don't you come to bed? We should get an early start tomorrow."

Emma had taken her suggestion on board, and Regina watched as Emma made her way around the suite preparing for bed. She turned down the covers and arranged herself in a pose that she thought was rather seductive; it had certainly worked for her in the past.

"I guess I'll take the floor."

"There is more than enough room in the bed for both of us." Regina smiled in a way that she hoped was warm and inviting. "I promise I don't bite, dear."

She did, but there was no sense in scaring away a tasty, tasty morsel like Emma Swan away before she'd had a chance to enjoy her. Perhaps Emma's rather unpredictable superpower had decided to reactivate itself at what Regina considered to be a rather inopportune moment, because she watched with disappointment as Emma grabbed a pillow from the bed and a spare blanket from the closet and built herself a nest on the floor.

On the second day of the trip, they'd managed an early start and had well and truly left civilisation behind. As the sun was starting to set, they pulled into a nondescript town that looked exactly like the last eight they'd driven through and Regina checked Google Maps. There were seven motels in town. They tried each one in turn; so far four were booked out, and two had only one room with one bed, which Regina didn't really mind, but Emma apparently did. It astonished Regina to think that there was such huge demand for accommodation in towns that were barely a dot on the map, but apparently it was high-season in Hick Town. Regina leaned against the car, drinking a horrifically awful gas station coffee, waiting for Emma to return from checking out the last place.

Emma walked swiftly towards her, shaking her head. "Get back in the car. We're not stopping here. We're driving until this awful hick town is not even a distant speck in the rear-view mirror."

Regina sighed. She was tired of driving, and really just wanted to stop somewhere and try to jumpstart her apparently faulty powers of seduction. "What's wrong with this one? Only one room again?"

"Far, far worse. There was a taxidermied squirrel at the reception desk." Emma shuddered. "What sort of sick freak comes up with something like that?"

Regina was shocked. Even during her decade-long reign of terror, she'd never crossed a line like that. She'd tortured, she'd maimed, she'd butchered entire villages. But she'd never once felt the urge to display the mummified corpses of tiny forest creatures.

They passed through town after town, and in every one they were strangely unable to find accommodation with more than one room and more than one bed available. Regina had laid claim to the bed every night, because there was no way that she was slumming it on the floor. Meanwhile, Emma had obstinately chosen to sleep on the floor out of some misplaced sense of honour, or something, despite Regina's best efforts. As a result, Regina was frustrated. She'd been hoping for at least a little bit of accidental spooning, but Emma Swan was either incredibly dense, incredibly stubborn or both. She'd made a point of packing some of her best nightwear, and it was rather annoying to think of all of that tastefully expensive fabric going to waste.

Emma had become progressively more irritable over the course of the trip. Sleeping on the floor for the past few nights had left her with an awful crick in the neck; she really needed to sleep in a bed tonight. Emma decided to plan ahead and book a place with multiple rooms in advance. She decided to try her luck on Air BnB and was excited to find a 2-bedroom place available in a town that would be just about the right distance away.

Emma grew more and more cheerful as they got closer and closer to their stopover. Mmm… A real bed, with a real mattress that's all mine. No need to worry about accidental night-time snuggles. They reached the house, and Emma just about skipped up the path, or she would have if her spine wasn't currently twisted into the shape of a pretzel. A smile spread across her face as she rang the doorbell.

The woman who answered the door looked at her in confusion. "We're not interested in buying whatever it is you're selling."

Emma frowned. "I booked two bedrooms for tonight. I'm sure this is the address. My name's Emma Swan."

The woman's eyes widened. "Oh dear. I think you'll find that you booked two rooms for this time next year."

"No, I definitely booked them for tonight."

"Sorry. You definitely didn't. I do have a fold-out sofa in the living, though. You're welcome to rent it for the night. You probably won't find anywhere else to stay for at least another three or four hours from here."

Emma swallowed the curse that was bubbling up her throat. "Okay. We'll take it."

She walked back to the car and hit her head against the window a couple of times. "FML. Fucking seriously."

After two weeks, they were finally driving into Los Angeles. They'd had an unscheduled week-long stopover after the Bug had broken down in some god-awful backwater, and by this point, Emma was so sore and sleep-deprived that her rage was in constant threat of spilling over. Over the past couple of days, random strangers on the street had started recoiling away in horror when they saw her red-rimmed eyes and generally strung-out appearance. Regina, on the other hand, looked just as fucking perfect as always.

They found the apartment block they were looking for, and lurked around the entrance waiting for an opportune moment to get into the secure building. They'd buzzed the apartment earlier and ascertained that nobody was home. When they were inside, Emma made quick work of the lock on the door; she pushed it open, and they both stood, stunned at the display that greeted them.

Emma frowned. "I think I saw something like this on an episode of Criminal Minds, once."

They entered the apartment, locking the door behind them. Regina surveyed the room. There was an entire wall of pictures of Storybrooke, with most focusing on herself, Emma or the two of them. On another wall there was a whiteboard that appeared to be covered with detailed plans and strategies, most of which was in a code that she couldn't decipher. A corkboard held a series of blueprints that Regina recognised as belonging to various structures in Storybrooke, as well as a detailed map of the town and its surrounds.

Regina's attention was drawn to the MacBook Pro on the desk. Even though her magic didn't work outside of Storybrooke, she was still sensitive to the faintest hint of magic emanating from the device. She skimmed through the document that was open on the screen, and raised her eyebrows. It seemed that Emma was right. Someone was definitely interfering with events in Storybrooke.

They were interrupted by the sound of a key in the lock, and they looked at each other in panic. The studio apartment was entirely lacking in hiding spots; there wasn't even a closet big enough for the two of them.

Emma whispered to her, "I've got an idea. Do you trust me?"

Regina nodded. Surprisingly, she really did.

The door was flung open at the same time as Emma grabbed Regina and pulled her into a rather stagey kiss. Regina frowned. This is quite possibly the stupidest plan ever. She hummed in appreciation as Emma sucked on her upper lip. So not complaining though.

They were distracted from Emma's brilliant decoy/escape plan by the sound of the apartment's proper occupant sinking to the floor in a dead faint.

Regina raised an eyebrow. Okay, not so stupid after all. She hissed at Emma, "Now's our chance. Let's get out of here."

Emma shook her head. "We can't just leave her here. What if she's hurt?"

Regina rolled her eyes. Sometimes, she really hated being one of the good guys. "Can we at least tie her to a chair?"

"No."

"Not even with a laughably simple knot that a one-handed infant could unpick within two minutes?" Regina pouted, but Emma remained resolute.

"She's already seen us, so we might as well stay and ask her some questions."

After a while, the young woman came to, looked at Emma and Regina and promptly fainted again.

When the woman came to a second time, Regina loomed over her. She smiled a smile that managed to be both saccharine and utterly terrifying at the same time. "Now, dear, you're going to tell us who you are, and why you've been meddling with my life and my town."

The woman gulped audibly, before responding. "I'm just one soldier among many, engaged in a struggle that is older than time. Who I am doesn't matter, but you can address me by my Tumblr username, ViceAdmiralSwen108."

Regina continued to smile, her tone light and unthreatening, while Emma crossed her arms and loomed in the background like the hired muscle that she was. "A pleasure to meet you, ViceAdmiralSwen108. Now have you, or have you not, been influencing events in Storybrooke?"

"We have, but I swear that we only got involved when we learned of the terrible things that were being done to you." There was a haunted look in her eyes, as she spoke, testament to the horrors that she had witnessed. "Perhaps you've heard of Sunnydale? We couldn't stand by and watch while another Sunnydale happened."

Regina nodded. "I've heard a few rumours over the years."

ViceAdmiralSwen108 closed her eyes. "We did what we could, but we were too late. It was truly horrible."

Emma had been listening with a frown. She finally spoke. "I tripped over objects that I could have sworn weren't there at least a hundred times in the past four years. Was that you?" Emma was still kind of bitter about that; Henry had started a YouTube channel and posted as many videos of her clumsiness as he could get his hands on. He'd even offered a stake in the advertising revenue to anyone who could source him content, so of course he'd accumulated dozens of videos.

ViceAdmiralSwen108 looked slightly ashamed. "It was. Our ability to influence events is somewhat limited. We were trying to ensure that you and Regina interacted, because They were trying so hard to keep you apart."

"What else did you do?" Regina and Emma reeled off a list of incidents, and ViceAdmiralSwen108 either confirmed or denied them.

"What about the sinkholes?"

"No, that wasn't us. I promise." She paused. "Well, actually, Graham was partially our fault, but the others were all Them."

Regina and Emma both looked at her sceptically.

"I swear we had nothing to do with any of the later sinkholes. We've actually managed to save a couple of people in the last few months. We heard a rumour about Mulan just in time to get her out; we managed to get her to a safe-house, and we helped set her up with a new identity. We had another success story recently with Maid Marian." She frowned. "Actually, I don't think you've met her. We were forced to extract her early."

Emma was silent for a moment, taking on board all that she'd heard. Eventually, she spoke. "Listen, I get that you're trying to help, but both of us have spent so much time subject to choices that other people have made for us, mere actors in a story directed by someone else. We've both been denied agency for too long, and it's time that we take that power back. This is our fight now."

Regina regarded Emma with astonishment, as though she'd just witnessed a monkey with a perfect grasp of iambic pentameter reciting the complete works of Shakespeare. "I'm pleasantly surprised, dear. That's not the type of speech I ever expected to hear from you."

"I kind of wound up auditing a Womyn's Studies 101 class a while back when I was undercover trying to track down a bail-jumper." Emma shrugged. "Obviously some of it stuck."

Regina smirked. I really love being right. So, so gay. Now if she'd just hurry up and realise that she's gay for me…

ViceAdmiralSwen108 regarded Emma and Regina with serious eyes. "I can understand your desire to take control of your fate. I do want to warn you though. We've heard a rumour that the enemy has directly infiltrated Storybrooke. You should be careful, they're capable of terrible things."

"We appreciate the warning." Regina frowned. "Do you have any idea who or what we're looking for?"

"All we know is that there are two of them on the ground. Sorry. That's all the information we were able to obtain. Good luck."

As they walked out, Emma surreptitiously pocketed a couple of the more interesting pictures to study later.

They arrived back in Storybrooke a week later. Emma insisted on stopping at Granny's for grilled cheese before they did anything else, and Regina just rolled her eyes and gave in. Emma was on her third plate of food, when Leroy and the other dwarves filed into the diner; she counted eight of them and frowned in confusion. Honestly, they all kind of looked the same to her most days, but she was sure there weren't that many last time she checked. She cast her mind back to ViceAdmiralSwen108's warning; there was something about the dwarves that was making her suspicious.

When Leroy went up to the counter by himself, Emma took the chance to interrogate him. "Leroy, I thought there were only six of you. Who are the others?"

"Our long lost cousins Spanky and Shifty came to town for a visit." Leroy leaned closer and whispered, "Between you and me, sister, there's something a bit hinky about them. I've never seen a dwarf that was as bad with a pickaxe as those two. One of them nearly took off Bashful's head."

Emma returned to the table and reported her suspicions to Regina. "What are we going to do with them?"

"I know what I'd like to do with them," Regina said darkly, and the vase of flowers in the middle of the table wilted in response to the sheer force of her vitriol.

Emma clasped Regina's hand in her own and gazed at her with wide, serious eyes. "I can't let you do this to yourself. You've come too far to have your non-evilness destroyed."

The vein in Regina's forehead was throbbing with the rhythmic intensity of a dub-step track, and Emma watched as she squeezed her eyes shut, the tension in her body palpable. "I need to call my sponsor." She walked over to a quiet corner.

In the background, Emma could hear Regina on the phone. She tried not to listen in, but she just couldn't help being nosy.

"Hi Faith… I've been having those feelings again… Sometimes I just really want to bathe in rivers of blood. It just does such wonderful things for the complexion. Have you tried it?… No, they're not exactly good, but I'm not sure if they're actually evil… Alright, I'll get back into the yoga and Zen gardening again… Okay, love you too, girlfriend."

Regina finished her call and walked back over to her, just as Emma had a light-bulb moment. "I just had a thought."

"Just the one, dear? Quick, someone call the Daily Mirror."

Emma ignored her and continued. "There's a place we could send them to, a little island in the South Pacific. There's definitely no wi-fi and I'm certain they won't be able to cause anyone any trouble ever again."

Regina shrugged. "I don't have any better ideas that don't involve staking them out in the middle of a nest of fire ants. Let's go with yours."

They stayed at Granny's for the next hour, watching the dwarves. Emma had had to order another two plates of fries, because Regina kept stealing them and then pretending that they'd been sucked into a quantum singularity. Their observations over the next hour had only confirmed their suspicions, and when Spanky and Shifty walked out of the diner together, Emma and Regina followed at a safe distance. They tracked the dwarves for a while, following them as they turned into an alleyway down in the docks district. It was now, or never. Regina raised her hands and looked at Emma as the magic started to flow between them.

Emma could taste Regina's magic on her tongue; dark, heady, complex and a little bit fruity, just like a good Bordeaux. Their magic intertwined, a bold, potent chiaroscuro of power and sensuality, and Emma felt like every part of her was filled by Regina, and she was filling Regina in turn. She felt a familiar tremor in her knees; it was strange, this always happened when she and Regina made magic together. She'd tried making magic by herself, sometimes several times a day, but it never felt quite the same, quite so satisfying. Their eyes locked, a wordless communion and then release, simultaneous waves of power shaking them to the core and gushing forth. They stood there in the aftermath, breathing heavily. Regina's eyes were slightly glazed, her lips parted, and Emma watched intently as the tip of her tongue, pink and glistening, came out to trace a path along her upper lip.

Emma surreptitiously crossed her legs as she realised that she'd ruined yet another pair of panties. "Did it work?"

Regina bit her lower lip, her fingers unconsciously coming up to stroke the skin along the neckline of her blouse. Her eyes caught Emma's, intense, unblinking, much like a cobra hypnotising its prey. "It certainly worked for me, dear."

With the threat apparently having been neutralised, Regina poofed them back to where the Bug was parked. As they drove to 108 Mifflin, Emma was silent, a thousand thoughts running through her head. If Emma was honest with herself, she'd never met anyone quite like Regina. She'd certainly never met anyone who owned an umbrella to match every single overcoat she owned. There was something strangely alluring about that, an oddly comforting veneer of orderliness that Emma Swan desperately craved. She felt a sudden clarity that had been missing for the past four years, perhaps even the past thirty-two. When she looked at Regina, she no longer saw the past; she saw the future, her future.

They arrived at 108 Mifflin, and once again, Regina stood back and watched as Emma carried her suitcases, admiring strong arms coated in a light sheen of perspiration, and an ass that was hugged by delightfully tight denim. Emma unloaded the last of bags from the car, and Regina followed her inside, closing the door behind them. She trailed a finger down Emma's deliciously-defined bicep, her lips curving into a smile.

"Can I fix you a drink to reward you for your hard work, dear?"

Emma grinned. "That would be amazing. I've really worked up a sweat carrying in those bags." She shook her head, bemused. "I swear they're twice as heavy as when we left, but I don't know how that's possible."

They actually were twice as heavy, but Regina wasn't about to tell her that.

Emma followed Regina into the kitchen and leaned against the island bench, watching her move gracefully around the kitchen. Regina handed her a drink, and Emma couldn't help but notice the way that Regina lingered in her space. How could I not have noticed this before? Their eyes met, and Emma was 97.384% certain that Regina was about to kiss her when they were interrupted by a knock at the door. The girl on the porch smiled brightly at them and held out a box of cookies.

"Hi, I'm selling Girl Guide cookies."

Emma grumbled to herself as Regina went to get her purse. The girl continued to smile in a way that Emma honestly thought was kind of creepy, and Emma was pretty sure that she hadn't blinked even once in the last minute. Isn't that like a sign of psychopathy or something?

The girl still hadn't blinked, and Emma was getting seriously alarmed. Maybe she's an assassin robot from the future? I wouldn't put it past those bastards.

"Are you Emma Swan?"

"Hmm?" Emma was too busy observing the little sociopath's blink rate to hear her question.

"Are you Emma Swan?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?" Emma was getting that weird, sick feeling in her stomach, like something crazy was about to happen again.

"I've been looking for you. I'm Persephone, your long-lost aunt's husband's third-cousin's step-daughter, twice-removed by marriage."

Emma gaped at the child for a moment, before she came to her senses. "Fuck off, and take your cookies with you. I'm on a diet." She slammed the door.

Regina returned a moment later, purse in hand, looking puzzled. "What happened to the Girl Guide? Did you buy the cookies?"

Emma shook her head. "I sent her away. I'm pretty sure she was an alien space robot sent from the future to stop me from doing this."

Emma leaned forward oh so slowly, and captured Regina's lips with her own.

Regina sighed with pleasure, savouring the moment for as long as she could. Eventually she pulled back, looking at Emma with searching eyes. She'd waited so long for this moment and she could scarcely believe that it had arrived. "Is this real?"

Emma nodded. "It is."

"Not a decoy?"

Emma shook her head.

"Not the result of a concussion?"

"Nope."

"And you swear that you didn't just trip and accidentally land in a way that made our lips touch?"

"Definitely not.

"Well thank fuck. It took you long enough." She pushed Emma up against the wall, kissing her hungrily. Nothing, and she really did mean nothing, was going to stop her from bringing this very long dry spell to an end and getting her happy ending tonight.

Note: The taxidermied squirrels were shamelessly stolen from amycarey's wonderful Swan Queen road trip fic, The Great Wide Somewhere. On the unlikely chance that you haven't read it, stop wasting time reading my stories and go read it at AO3.