A/N: I just started reading another fic where Henry has Leukemia - writers are such a cruel breed! It's incredibly different from mine, though. Thanks as always for all the feedback. If you're interested, I have several other fics on the go. The one I'm most reliable with is Whiskey Princess - go check it out! It is a very M rated FTL AU.

Additional note: All medical stuff is totally made up. My only medical knowledge comes from House MD and Grey's Anatomy (and Miami Medical…).

And then her lips are an inch away from mine and I don't even think about it, I just slam my mouth into hers and use my lips and tongue and teeth in a desperate attempt to tell her everything I never managed to say. Her hands slip around my waist and she holds me close and I close my eyes tight shut and try to stop the world, right there in her arms, because I know, I just know, that I am never going to be happier than in this moment.

I press myself against Regina, tentatively placing my hands on her back. I've imagined doing this countless times, but now I'm here I'm almost worried I can't. It's as if there's a barrier that I have to overcome, a barrier of all our differences and all my fears. But as her mouth moves against mine it's as if we blast the barrier into oblivion. I kiss her for all I'm worth, I kiss her as she deserves to be kissed, worshipping her mouth, her lips, and then her jaw, her neck. She gasps with pleasure, twisting a hand in my hair, pulling out my ponytail. I explore her body with my fingers, edging them under the thin fabric of her shirt. Touching her skin sends sparks shooting up from my fingertips.

This is a woman. A teacher. A mother. She's power and love and imperfection and sensitivity and I am... I am hers. I long to be. I want to give up everything of my old self, everything that's scared. I run, I fight, I resist. I've never trusted anyone but I want more than anything to trust her. I want to show her I trust her. I want her to trust me.

And I want her to fuck my brains out. I'm so attracted to her I think I might explode if she doesn't rip my clothes off soon. Her vulnerability is all but gone, she pushes me back onto the couch and straddles my lap, pausing to catch my eye until I nod like an excited puppy and she pulls her shirt over her head. I cup her breasts as she leans down to kiss me, running my thumbs over her lace covered nipples and grinning into her mouth as she mewls with pleasure. She thrusts her hips forward. The pressure is on my abdomen rather than where I want it most, but I still gasp wantonly and move my hands around to her ass, pulling her closer. She kissed me even harder, our breasts rub together and I really, really need to take my clothes off.

I struggle out of my shirt and then, feeling ridiculously in control of a woman whose job it is to tell me what to do, I undo the clasp of her slacks. She lets out a low growl, but it fades into something less certain. I can feel her starting to pull away, though she seems very reluctant. I let her. I let her go, sighing as she leans back and adjusts her bra strap.

She still doesn't have anything to say, nothing I haven't thought of myself. She just looks at me, her eyes wide, her pupils dilated with desire.

"I can leave," I tell her, feigning nonchalance. She raises an eyebrow at my fake-chill tone, but then she sighs again.

"I think that might be a good idea," she admits. "But only because I want to do this right. You deserve so much more than a quick fuck on my couch after an emotional roller coaster of a day."

I love the way she says fuck. It's hard for me to think about anything else. I struggle for an appropriate answer but I'm a little preoccupied by her still-open pants and her gorgeous chest that's right at my eye level. I lean back against the couch, covering my face with my hands, trying to think.

"I… Thank you," I say, wishing it didn't sound so awkward.

"Let me take you out," Regina suggests. "For a meal, then maybe dancing..?"

She sounds so nervous; I take my hands down and smile at her.

"I love dancing," I say. "I'm terrible. But I love it."

"Sounds promising," she teases. "So that's okay?"

"Yeah. It is."

"I can… I have to stay here, but I can call you a cab."

"Now?"

She catches my drift immediately, then does up her pants, laughs, and leans down to kiss me again.

"I suppose there's no harm in-"

She's cut off by an alarm-like sound coming from upstairs.

"Shit!"

She's off my lap before I can blink. She doesn't even put her shirt on, she runs straight up to Henry's room. She doesn't seem panicked, just determined. I follow her, definitely panicking. I also neglect to put on my shirt.

I don't know if I should go in but in the end I can't help myself. I don't know what the machines mean but the one that shows his heart rate is flashing scarily fast. I read his temperature. I'm pretty sure anything above 100 is freak out worthy. The machine says 106. Regina takes a writhing Henry out of bed.

"108 Mifflin Street. That's the address. Call 911, tell them Henry Mills, a registered Leukemia patient, just spiked a fever."

I'm already dialling. I do as she says, trying to keep my voice clear and even. As I do so, Regina's examining her son's body. I hear a tiny gasp as she checks his back. I look. The lower half is covered with a huge, dark bruise. I'm still on the phone.

"Possible internal bleeding," Regina tells me. I repeat this. They say the ambulance is on its way. Regina kisses Henry's head. I think he's crying.

"You're gonna be just fine, sweetie."

She carries him to her room, stepping into some shoes and putting him on her bed for a moment so she can pull on a sweater. I take his hand.

"Emma?" he whispers.

"Hey, kid," I say weakly.

"Emma, are you coming with us?"

I look at Regina. Her mouth is set in a firm line. She seems absolutely resolved not to break down. I think she might need me to hold her hand too.

"Can I?" I ask. She nods.

"Please," she whispers.

She picks up an already packed holdall from the corner of her room, then hoists Henry back onto her hip. I use my initiative and grab Henry's backpack from his room, and at the last second, I remember to grab Jet as well. I realise I'm still in my bra. I follow them downstairs and yank my shirt back on. I can hear a siren.

Regina opens the front door and we go outside, meeting the medics. They grab Henry; Regina looks lost as they strap him to the bed. We sit where we're told. I take Regina's hand and she grips my fingers so hard I think she might be breaking my hand. I'm very glad she does - I hold on to her just as tightly.

Regina and the medics talk in a bunch of jargon I don't understand. It's only a few minutes until we're at the hospital; they unload us and take Henry into a room. We follow. A doctor asks more things; Regina answers. They give Henry something to knock him out so he won't be scared, his fever's so high he's almost losing consciousness anyway, it's been rising, and then we're shooed out of the room.

It's horrifying how well Regina knows the drill. She leads the way to Henry's ward, pulling the curtain around his bed to give us some privacy. She sets everything down, then looks at the one armchair.

"I'll be right back," she mutters.

She returns after a minute carrying another chair. She sets up Henry's bed, tucking Jet in as if he were alive. She even pats his head. She sorts out the things from her bag, taking some out, putting some away. She opens a closet and takes out a hospital gown. Then she goes back and takes out another one.

I just stand there, watching, waiting to wake up from the nightmare. I'm still on her couch, Henry's sleeping upstairs, everything is fine and we're kissing. We kissed. I give myself a shake. Now is not the time to flip out. Regina takes the gowns and leads us out of the ward, the other kids are going to bed and we shouldn't disturb them. She goes into the ladies room. She still hasn't said anything. The door closes. We're alone. It's so bright, it feels weird. I feel as if everything should be dark. She hands me a gown.

"Only if you want," she says. "I always do it, so we match when he wakes up."

I stare at the pale blue garment in my hands.

"Regina, what just..?"

"He's going to be fine," she says firmly. She's telling herself as well as me.

She strips to her underwear and puts on the gown. Miraculous woman. She even looks hot in hospital clothes. I'm still standing there, looking at mine. She takes it out of my hands again, then takes both of my hands in hers.

"You can go," she says. "It's okay. I'll call you-"

"No!" I shout. "I'm not going anywhere." My eyes fill with tears and before I know it I'm sobbing in her arms, wracked with guilt because I should be the one comforting her and yet I'm bawling into her chest as she strokes my hair and tells me it's going to be okay. I cry for what seems like hours. She doesn't stop holding me. And then something clicks inside me and I pull away from her and put on my gown.

"Now what?" I ask. She smiles at me.

"Now, we wait. There's a family room. It has cable."

I laugh. I have to. It releases some of the tension. We go back to the ward and she takes her bag. She has a robe; she puts it on, then offers me her sweater, which I accept. It's not really cold, but something about the situation makes me want to be wrapped up.

The family room is nice, nicer than I expected. We sit on a couch and she turns on the TV, leaving the volume low. Regina plugs her phone in to charge. I have no idea where mine is. I borrow hers so I can send M a message on Facebook telling her I won't be back. Regina and I end up talking about the Kardashians. It's incredibly surreal. A nurse comes in and gives us coffee.

"He's in surgery," she tells Regina. "A cyst ruptured in his abdomen, causing some bleeding and an infection. It's a simple procedure to repair it, but the infection will mean we need to keep him in. His immune system is not doing great. And he's going to need a transfusion tomorrow."

Regina nods and the nurse leaves. I take a deep breath. He's going to be okay.

"Thank you for coming with me," Regina says suddenly. "I know it may not seem that way, but having you here is infinitely better than doing this alone."

I don't know how to answer. I'm glad, so glad I can be there for her. But I feel utterly helpless. I need to do something. I'm okay now, I know the kid's going to be alright, but he's going to be in surgery for a while longer and we're just sitting here on this couch pretending to watch TV and avoiding everything we could possibly talk about. Especially the fact that a few hours ago we were on a different couch making out like a couple of teenagers. I can say that. I haven't been a teenager for more than a year.

I jump up from the couch.

"Come on."

She stares at me. "What?"

"We're going to play a game."

She rolls her eyes. "Emma, I am not in the mood for-"

I grab her hand and pull her up so she bumps into me. I grin at her expression, a confused, annoyed kind of arousal. She needs this. She needs not to be sad.

"Sure you're not," I say seductively. Then I jump back and look around the room. I look at us, in our bizarre hospital gown outfits. I think about what I used to do to entertain the younger kids in foster homes. We were often alone for long periods of time. Alone, hungry, scared… There are a lot of parallels. I used to come up with games we could play to pass the time. I loved imagining things.

I have an idea. I start pulling the furniture around a little to make sure it'll be possible.

"Emma, you cannot just-"

"I'll put it back. Right. Regina, have you ever played Sharks?"

She stares at me. "What on earth are you talking about?"

I jump up on the couch.

"Sharks. Basically, the floor is the ocean, full of giant snappy fish about to bite your tits off unless you get out of it."

She rolls her eyes and walks serenely to the couch, then stands on it.

"This is not much of a game."

I grin. "Now, we race each other around the room. First one to touch all four corners wins."

She looks at me, childish determination rising in her eyes. I knew she wouldn't be able to turn down a competition.

"This is ridiculous," she says to me in her most grown up voice. I leap from the couch to a bookcase against the wall, wobbling precariously but steadying myself.

"You just say that because you're gonna lose!"

She hops to the coffee table.

"I wouldn't be so sure, Miss Swan."

She's grinning now.

"Watch it, Regina. If you touch the floor, you die and you have to start over."

Her grin becomes positively evil as she jumps to my bookcase and shoves me to the floor. I writhe around, pretending to be eaten by sharks.

"You play dirty, Professor Mills."

She's laughing, cackling, as I get back on the couch. She scrambles from the bookcase to a set of lockers just before I can jump and grab her, then she kind of topples onto an armchair in the corner. I launch myself towards her, ending up in a giggling heap in her lap. She moves to push me to the floor again but tickles me instead. I squeal, laughing so much there are tears in my eyes.

"Emma Swan sleeps with the fishes," she says as she lets me fall to the floor. I drag her down to.

"Only if you sleep with me," I say. I roll on top of her. For a moment we both think I'm going to kiss her, but at the last second I opt for tickling instead. She squawks with surprise, struggling to get away and back onto the chair.

"Hey, you have to start again! That's cheating."

"I do not play by your rules, Miss Swan."

I get up on the chair as well.

"Fine. You're still gonna lose."

She leaps onto the windowsill, narrowly avoiding smashing into the glass.

"I wouldn't be so sure…"

Neither of us manage the room surviving the sharks. We collapse on the couch, our imaginations exhausted. Then I have another idea. It's the middle of the night. The corridor beside us is dark and deserted. And there is an adult sized wheelchair just sitting there. It's as if it's waiting for us.

I put my finger to my lips and leave the family room, creeping past wards of sleeping children to the chair. I beckon Regina. She follows me. I motion that she should sit. She shakes her head.

"You sit," she whispers.

"How do I know you won't kill me?"

"You don't," she says gleefully. It's her eyes. I can't resist them, not when they sparkle like that. I sit in the chair, putting my feet on the footrests so they're not in the way. Regina takes the handles of the chair and looks down the long corridor.

"Ready?" she asks. I can hear the wicked humour in her voice.

"No," I say, genuinely a little afraid for my life.

"Good!"

She charges forward, pushing the chair at top speed. I feel it rushing down the corridor; she swerves from side to side, narrowly avoiding carts full of supplies. She yanks the chair around the corner and I try not to scream-

And then we're right in front of the nurses station and she stops abruptly. I fall out of the chair. I'm still lying on the floor as she catches her breath and addresses the bemused nurses.

"We found this chair in the corridor. It was a horrific safety hazard, so we brought it back here for you to deal with."

Then she hoists me up, dusts me off, and marches me back around the corner where we collapse into another fit of giggles.

"That was amazing," I tell her. She looks inordinately proud.

We go back to the family room, deciding we should try to stay out of trouble. Or at least out of sight. I eye the vending machine.

"I'm hungry," I say.

"Me too."

I go up to it, examining the dispensation system.

"Every machine is different," I tell her, "but with the right motion," I grab the machine and start to rock it, "almost all of them can be tricked."

She watches as I successfully liberate a snickers bar. I retrieve it, open it, and break it in half.

"You're welcome," I say cockily.

"I had a dollar, you know."

"Where would be the fun in that?"

"It wouldn't be illeg-"

"Eat your snickers."

She does as I say. We're on the couch again. I flop into her lap, not really thinking about it. I'm tired, she's comfy… I realise what I'm doing and try to sit up but she smiles and puts her arm around me.

"Go to sleep," she says softly. I close my eyes. She runs her fingers through my hair, soothing me. I feel myself drifting off to sleep…

When I wake up we're in a tangled mess on the couch. Regina snuffles in her sleep. I smile. She's adorable. Then I realise why I'm awake. The nurse from earlier has been shaking my shoulder.

"Henry's out of surgery," she tells me. I wonder why she didn't wake Regina. Then I figure out that Regina's scary. She'd have a million questions the nurse probably can't answer. I wouldn't want to wake the Momma Bear either. Not if I were a nurse. But I'm not, so I shake Regina awake just as the doctor comes in. She's alert in seconds.

"Henry's vitals are stable, but because of his weakened immune system, he is in a private, sterile room. You can see him," he adds quickly at the look on Regina's face. "You just have to scrub first. And it's family only."

The doctor says the last part looking pointedly at me.

"She is family," Regina says immediately. The doctor nods.

"Okay. If you both want to follow me?"

We walk after him. Everything's so weird in this place. We go down a maze of corridors and finally get to a bathroom.

"Go shower, and the nurse will give you scrubs to wear."

"We want gowns instead. It is important to my son."

The doctor shrugs as if to say "whatever" and we go to shower and change.

"He seems like an ass," I say from my cubicle.

"He is. I don't know him very well, he's not Henry's doctor. He's one of the surgeons. Henry and I call him Dr. Grumpypants."

I have to laugh. "Grumpypants? You call someone Grumpypants."

I hear her laughing too. "Well he is a grumpypants," she defends. We change into scratchy disposable underwear and fresh gowns, then go into a kind of airlock where we're blasted with some kind of disinfecting stuff. We put on facemasks and hairnets and finally we're allowed into Henry's room.

He's awake. He giggles when he sees us.

"Momma, you look silly," he slurs.

"Regina, don't take it the wrong way but I think your kid has been getting high," I mutter. Regina laughs.

"That's the morphine. Hello, young man. How are you feeling?"

"Good," Henry says. I grin into my mask. Definitely high.

"Is that Emma?" he asks, sounding delighted that I might be there.

"Sure is, kiddo," I tell him.

"You're not a normal," he says happily. I hold out my fist. He looks at it, confused.

"You punch it," I explain. "It's called a fist bump. It's what awesome friends do."

He raises his arm, he's pretty weak but he manages a passable fist bump. He lets out a sigh.

"I'm tired," he says. "And Momma, Grumpypants was here and I don't like him and I want my proper doctor back."

Regina ruffles his hair.

"Don't be a grumpypants yourself, love. But don't worry, remember, grumpypants is the surgeon. He just has to check on you a little. Dr. Robbins will be here later, she's still your real doctor."

"Arizona," he says happily. He looks at me. "She's pretty," he tells me. "Like you."

I grin into my mask again. "Thanks, Henry. You're not bad looking yourself.

We sit on the edge of the bed.

"When can I go back to my room?" Henry asks. He isn't whiny, he just wants to know what's going to happen.

"Well, last time it was after a couple of days, wasn't it?" Regina says to him.

"And Jet can't come in here," Henry says sadly.

"No, I'm afraid not. But Emma's here and she's almost as good as Jet, don't you think?"

Henry giggles. "Almost," he agrees. "But she can't fly. And she's not blue."

"Hey! I'm mostly blue."

He shakes his head. "Wrong blue. You're hospital blue. I like dragon blue."

I sigh, leaning back against his pillows.

"They said I need a transfusion," Henry said. Initially, I'm impressed that he knows the word, but I realise that he would. He hears things like that all the time. And then it's just sad. Again.

"That's right."

"From you?"

"Yes."

Henry looks worried. "But Momma, you're going to give me all your blood soon. Won't you run out?"

She takes his hand. "I make more. My stem cells are healthy so they can make lots of blood. When Dr. Robbins takes some, my stem cells notice and they make more."

"But my stem cells are lazy," Henry says. Regina laughs.

"I think they're confused. But we could call them lazy too."

"What blood type are you, Henry?" I ask him.

"A positive," he recites. I grin.

"Hey, me too, kid. So we must all be blood buddies."

Someone taps on the glass. It's a perky blonde in a white coat.

"Arizona!" Henry says.

"I think she wants to talk to me," Regina says. "That okay?"

Henry nods.

"But Emma can stay here?" He sounds exhausted.

Regina gets off the bed.

"It's up to Emma."

I put my arm around Henry.

"I'll stay 'til you fall asleep, kid. That do?"

He nods, snuggling into him. Regina kisses him through her mask.

"See you later, my little prince."

"Love you," Henry murmurs.

"I love you too," Regina says. I've heard the phrase so many times. I've never heard it mean so much.

A/N: This isn't a crossover story, but I'm planning a teeny bit of Calzona. Just because I can. Thank you again for all the awesome feedback. Keep it coming please! And remember, I have promised a oneshot to the 100th reviewer...