This isn't a fairytale anymore.
There is no more Savior, as far as she's aware — which is why Regina has to do this. She has to be the one to lure Emma in. Just as the darkness sought out Regina before, they're all sure it will once more.
(It wants her… the darkness will always want to consume every part of her.)
Regina has no interest in looking delectable while playing bait and hook for their new Dark One, but appearances were never considered an misstep while playing the Mayor. She keeps on her black, clinched trench coat for the colder weather, having pulled on a thin, black skirt and hose. The heels are short, barely three inches.
The road is slightly foggy in her headlights as Regina parks her convertible along the side of the road. This road is cursed. This town was cursed. She is cursed, to never have what she truly desired, to pay for her arrogance and cruelty as the Evil Queen. To have, and then to lose what her heart absolutely cherished.
Emma may be gone forever, but that's not a guarantee.
She approaches the town line, her dark eyes focused on it. When Regina stops a couple of safe feet from it, her ears pick up a curt, low whistling sound off in the unlit, wooded area. Mary Margaret and the others are ready and in place. Let's hope everyone, including herself, could do what needed to be done.
Somehow, Regina thinks the world is eerily quiet like this, tarnishing the clouded, black skies into rosy-streaked dawn. Everyone in Storybrooke likely fast asleep in their beds at this hour, her son included.
Her hands drift into her coat pockets, feeling along for the round, fat vial in her left one — even though the suede material of Regina's gloves, the weight is unbearable.
"I've been looking for you," comes Emma's voice, throaty and monotonous. She's emerged from nothingness, as far as Regina can tell, walking up behind her.
Regina turns to face her, tilting her chin up.
Emma's without the jacket or skin-tight leather pants this time. Instead, what she's wearing is even more ridiculous. A glimmering, starry bodysuit, black as raven's wing. The attached cape drapes down Emma's shoulders, flowing behind her like a path of water. It really does glimmer against the glow of Regina's headlights.
She remembers the dangerous look on Emma's face a week ago, as the other woman held the dagger to Regina's neck — only a whisper away from cutting into her throat and bleeding her dry.
But now, the expression on Emma is soft, cautious.
"Now that I find hard to believe," Regina answers. Something in the cool and calculating tone makes Emma pause, wrinkling her nose as if miffed. In no time, she's smiling, as if carrying an amusing secret with her.
"Thinking about crossing the town line?"
Regina shakes her head, looking down as she strips off her gloves, tucking them into her empty pocket. "I was waiting for you actually… I wasn't entirely sure if you would find me out here," she explains.
"I could find you anywhere, in any world that ever existed," Emma says aloud, her voice deepening and cryptic emotion. "It wouldn't matter if you couldn't find me… I'll always find you, Regina."
Seeing her like this feels like a cage of thorns around Regina's heart, pricking wounds inside her.
"… Why are you doing this to us, Emma?"
Emma raises a silvery-white eyebrow, circling into Regina's view as she paces slowly around the other woman, eyeing her up and down. "No Miss Swan this time?"
"I know you're still in there somewhere," Regina insists, jaw gritting. "Don't pretend like you're not."
"I am me, Regina." A caressing brush of fingertips, sweeping over Regina's cheek. Emma's palm warm, cradling her. She smells like grave-dirt. "And I still care about you—that's never going to change."
Regina jerks out of the touch, nearly recoiling backwards as if struck. A flash of immediate anger crosses Emma's eyes, before it's gone and the other woman frowns thoughtfully, dropping her hand.
With a burst of swirling, noisy grey smoke, Emma melts away from existence.
Regina feels her stomach clench, and then sighs out in wonder. The other woman looks… different. Gone is the silvery hair, replaced by golden, soft curls framing Emma's face. The once ridiculously gaudy outfit replaced with Emma's white tank-top underneath the familiar, bright red jacket. Emma looks healthy, alive.
"I am still me," she repeats, but firmly. "And I don't regret doing what I did to save you, Regina."
Regina's murmur sounds heartbroken, lost.
Emma's touch seems accepted this time, with both of her hands pressing against Regina's face, stroking up and clasping lightly.
"I knew what would happen to me… and I knew you probably wouldn't forgive me," Emma says, gazing over her ruefully, closing the distance. "But I still love you anyway. I just feel braver about it now."
The kiss is unexpected, and yet it isn't — Regina wants this, more than anything. She wants this Emma, loving and unapologetic, with her mouth opening up widely against Regina's lips. Emma kisses her over and over, suckling on Regina's bottom lip. She grins faintly, nuzzling their noses as Regina's eyes flutter shut and she lets out a pleading, soft moan against Emma. It's too good to be true.
Because there's others watching them, and Regina's stomach feels clenched and twisty once again. Her left hand slips into her coat pocket, gripping around the vial of squid ink and pulling it out.
It feels heavy. So unbearably heavy.
Emma's fingers slip around hers, stilling her midair as Regina's hand lifts.
"I know what you're trying to do…" she whispers with spit-sticky, pale lips against Regina's earlobe. "But can you?"
Regina knows that answer, despite everything, despite knowing what they need to do. Her resolve gives out, as Emma's hand pushes away the squid ink, until Regina's grip loosens, the vial clinking against gravel-road. She's being crowded against the hood of her convertible, when Emma's mouth latches against Regina's neck.
There's others watching, grimacing and mortified as Regina's fully clothed body arches and grinds against hers, head thrown back. And then it's not, every single, bare inch of Regina exposed to the dawn-light. Magic exposes them, strips away the final layers and they're abandoned to only what they desire.
Emma's breasts rub up against her chest, her nipples aroused and swollen hot. She lowers a hand between them, touching around Regina's vaginal lips and her clit, playfully stroking her middle finger against it.
It's curious that Emma tastes like heat, but also like nothingness.
An unshakeable sense of nothingness is what she leaves a naked Regina with… trembling, wrecked.
OUAT isn't mine. I DID ANOTHER SWAN QUEEN FIC! WHAT A BEAUTIFUL SHIP! I couldn't resist the prompt on femslash_kink: "Once Upon A Time: Dark!Emma/Regina, public sex" and this is May's monthly challenge for Femslash Big Bang on Tumblr/LJ for me! I hope you lovelies enjoy so much