Emma was really getting to hate ships. It'd only been a few hours, but already she was sick of being cooped up on a Pirates of the Caribbean ride while her son was in danger. Pretty much the only thing to do onboard was be leered at by Hook, so she went downstairs—or whatever the fancy-schmancy nautical term was for that—and found a cabinet to do some pull-ups on. Probably better on the ship than punching the walls.

One thing she'd say for being the Savior, it was doing wonders for her quads.

"Feeling the burn, Miss Swan?" Regina asked, after who knew how many minutes of watching her. Emma hadn't noticed her come in, seeing as Regina was a creepy witch who could probably teleport in if she wanted to.

"Getting ready for a fight," Emma replied.

"Yes. I'm sure the muscle mass you gain in the two hours it will take us to reach Neverland will come in most helpful. Then again, your backside is looking rather nice…"

Emma forced herself up to the ceiling instead of dropping down and putting a fist through Regina's smug face. "Is there a reason you're here or do you just get bloated if you aren't sarcastic every half-hour?"

Emma felt more than saw Regina's smile. "I came to offer my services."

"Yeah, I don't have any stepdaughters I want psychotic revenge on, thanks."

The wooden bench behind Emma creaked as Regina sat down on it. Emma could just picture her crossing those long legs, fixing her with a superior stare.

"I do revenge gratis. This you would be expected to… reciprocate."

"You want to bake me something apple-y? Because I think that and revenge are the only two things you're good at. And honestly, you're not that hot at revenge, seeing as your arch-nemesis has lived to be a grandmother."

Emma dropped down in time to see Regina's smile ice over. Her eyes stayed fixed on Emma with a casually malicious intent. "Three things I'm good at. I hereby offer my services at servicing you."

Emma thought of making a sex joke. Nah, too easy. "I think I'll take you up on that. As soon as we get back, you can change my car's oil."

"I meant sexually."

Emma paused a moment, saw Regina's arched eyebrow, and burst out laughing.

"You're tense. Unfocused. Distracted. You need to clear your head if you truly want to be ready for a fight. I happen to be very good at that."

Emma laughed louder. "You need to work on your pick-up lines, your highness. Honestly."

"When we stopped the diamond from destroying Storybrooke, our magicks merged. We connected. There's a link between us, and we can use it to our betterment. Didn't you feel it? A warm tingle throughout your body?" Regina tilted her head to the side. "I tingled."

"Look, maybe in the Enchanted Forest, doing magic together is your version of watching a Channing Tatum movie, but in the real world, it's just doing magic together. I didn't tingle. There was no tingling."

"Have you had erotic dreams about me yet? I took a catnap earlier and I had the most vivid experience of riding you like a pony."

"Oh my God!" Emma rolled her eyes.

"Yes, it was most intriguing."

"I am not having sex with you, Regina! We hate each other! You've tried to kill me! You're a woman!"

Regina held up a finger. "Which of those is a good reason for us not to have sex?"

"All of them!"

"Alright. I'll respect your decision." Regina stood. "I do love the thrill of the hunt, as it were, even if you are wasting valuable time we could be spending on coitus. But just so you know, for your sex dream, I do wax and I have a single tattoo reading 'Happy Ending,' although I'll leave to your imagination where it is."

With one last insouciant look at Emma's bared, sweating arms, Regina took her leave.

"There was no need for coitus to be in that sentence," Emma moaned.

Just an hour later, that weird talk with Regina seemed like it'd happened on another planet. The sea was boiling in anger, the ship was damaged by mermaids, and Regina had turned a woman into mahogany. At least she has good taste, Emma thought, before the others decided the best thing for the situation would be to start making beef jerky with each others' faces.

Emma saw Mary-Margaret fighting Regina, David fighting Hook, and tried to decide who to help. She'd really like to punch Hook, but then, she had an opportunity to do so pretty much every week. How many chances did she get to punch Regina?

Then she realized. Punching wasn't the solution, it was the problem! The storm was feeding on their anger. She had to stop them, but how? She tried yelling; that didn't work. Maybe she could throw herself overboard? No, that was just stupid.

Lightning struck the mast, doing surprisingly little damage for what was traditionally thought of as pure God-anger. She didn't have much time. An idea occurred to Emma. Running up to Regina, she pulled her away from Mary-Margaret, saw the queen raise her fist to attack Emma as well, kissed her before she could take a swing.

It then occurred to her this wasn't necessarily a good idea.

Mary-Margaret stared, shocked out of her somewhat adorable berserker rage, as Emma pulled free of Regina's lips. Regina looked even more bewildered, blinking like she had something in her eye besides very well-applied mascara.

"You call that a kiss?" Regina said at last, and pulled Emma back to her.

Regina's kiss was dominating, pure and simple. Emma felt herself bent backwards, felt Regina's hand clawing into her ass, felt another hand tugging at her hair. When Regina ended it by snapping at her lower lip hard enough to draw blood, it was almost a step-down from how rough she'd been with her tongue.

"Emma, you're gay?" Mary-Margaret looked between them. "Regina, you're gay? Is everyone gay?" She looked to the upper deck, where David was straddling Hook, the two men choking each other.

"I'm not gay!" Emma cried.

"Yes, the proper term is bisexual," Regina added.

"It was the only way I could think of to get you to stop fighting!"

"Did you try throwing yourself overboard?" Mary-Margaret asked.

"This seemed like the option that would have me smelling less like fish."

"Don't count on it," Regina added.

"You're not helping!" Emma brushed the wet hair out of her eyes. "The storm is feeding off our emotions! We have to believe in each other, believe in—"

Regina waved her off. "Yes, yes, got it, no need for Oscar clip moment. Well, it should be a simple matter to stop psychopathic magic. Just remove the warring parties."

With a gesture, a pulley up by the mast broke loose and swooped down to clobber both Nolan and Hook. They hit the deck unconscious. The storm didn't abate.

"Unless, of course, their subconscious continues to possess the negative emotions feeding the storm." Regina was unapologetic. "Oops."

"Now what?" Emma yelled. "We wait for them to wake up and apologize to each other?"

"David's a very heavy sleeper!" Mary-Margaret shouted at the top of her lungs.

"We can always counteract the storm with positive emotions."

"Like what?" Emma demanded.

"I was hoping you'd ask."

Emma had time to feel fear, and a little bit of a blush, as Regina grabbed her by the belt and pulled her in for another kiss.

"We could try throwing Regina over the side!" Mary-Margaret suggested.

While Mary-Margaret tied the men to the rigging so they wouldn't fall overboard, Regina and Emma went below deck to…

Emma hadn't come up with a good euphemism yet. 'Performing magic' was way too Hallmark, and 'doing a trick' was right out.

"Well, savior, how about it?" Regina adopted a Southern accent; Emma had no idea what it was meant to imply. "Do you go in for foreplay or are you more of a wham, bam, thank you ma'am kind of gal?"

"I don't say thank you." Emma crossed her arms. "I'll strip down to my tanktop, but that's it. Nothing below the waist. No tongue."

"No more tongue, you mean."

"And no choking!" Emma gave up the 'intimidating arms crossed' pose to shake her finger at Regina. "I don't know if that's a thing for lesbians, but you totally seem like the type and I am not having it! My last three boyfriends all thought I got off on choking; well, I don't!"

"You seem to have strong feelings about this," Regina commented.

"You think a hickey is embarrassing, try bruise marks all around your throat. People thought I was being tugged around by a dog collar."

"So that's off-limits as well?"

Before Emma could reply, Mary-Margaret yelled down into the hold. "Emma, I don't mean to rush you, but a lightning bolt nearly fried me just now! Could you please just—could you please just hug it out?"

"She's right," Emma said. "Let's get this over with."

"No, no, we have plenty of time to talk about your feelings." Regina sat down. "Tell me what your favorite book was as a child? Go into detail; I really care."

"Fuck it," Emma said, and lunged at Regina.

Ten minutes later, Emma poked her head out into the stairway. "Uh, Mary-Margaret? Still there?"

"Yes, honey," Mary-Margaret replied, equally hesitant to see Emma.

"I still have my bra on!" Emma said quickly. "How, uh… how's the storm?"

"It's calmed down some, but there was a really big lightning strike a moment ago."

"That was me," Regina called. "Magic is very hard to control when you're… excited."

Mary-Margaret had an identical shudder; the wonders of biology.

"Your daughter is very exciting!" Regina continued.

"Yes, I get it!" Mary-Margaret looked up at the sky. Though it'd stopped raining, the dark clouds remained, and now they were spinning together like someone had opened a drain in the sky. In fact, it seemed to be whirling downward, forming a funnel… "It's a tornado!"

Emma ran up to look. "Shit!"

Regina, still below-deck, peeked through a porthole then said "Actually, on the ocean it's a waterspout."

Emma yelled down the stairs. "Regina, I let you get to second base, what the fuck!"

Regina craned her head to make eye contact. "I can only assume that two sources of positive emotion aren't enough to drown out two sources of negative emotion; three, if Mary-Margaret was feeling uncharitable about me licking her daughter."

"My neck!" Emma cried as soon as Mary-Margaret turned to face her. "She licked my neck!"

Straightening her clothes, Regina emerged from the hold. "If we truly want to get rid of this storm, we'll need three sources of positive emotion."

Mary-Margaret and Emma looked at her. Looked at each other again.

"So… all of us hugging?" Mary-Margaret asked.

Regina shook her head. "Did you see that wave back there? We practically remade The Perfect Storm. No—if we don't want to drown, we're going to need to get very… close."

"But… but she's my mom!" Emma yelped.

"I'm your grandmother; didn't see you complaining about that."

"Step-grandmother!" Mary-Margaret cried. "What kind of an idiot would object to that?"

"Relax, Charmings. I'm not asking for any mother-daughter bondage. Just leave everything to your beloved queen."

And that was how Emma and Mary-Margaret ended up backed against the wall, Regina between them, fingering a princess with either hand.

"Oh fuck," Emma breathed. She didn't know if the fact that Regina really knew what she was doing made the situation better or worse.

"Could we not talk?" Mary-Margaret was straining her eyes to look at the porthole and only the porthole on the other side of the room. "Let's not talk."

"Sorry, she's just really good at—"

"Let's especially not talk about that!" And Mary-Margaret bit her tongue as Regina thumbed her clit.

"It is an interesting point of fact," Regina extolled, her head lolling about to take in either of the women squirming in her grasp. "Nature vs. nurture. One would think, given that Emma was separated by her biological mother after birth, that her upbringing would lead to a strong divergence from Mary-Margaret. And yet, you both seem to love it when I do this—"

Both women threw their heads back, moaning wildly, as Regina stroked that spot.

"Could you just get us off so we all don't die!?" Emma screeched.

"Excuse me, it's not as if either of you are reciprocating. I'll take my pleasure where I can get it. Besides, I'm sure Mary-Margaret would approve of us all coming together as a family."

"Oh fuck," Mary-Margaret said. This was so wrong, so perverse, so disgusting—she was really getting off on it.

"Oh my!" Regina exclaimed, watching Mary-Margaret quake. "I think mommy's finished early. Doesn't she want to spend more quality time with us?"

"You're sick."

"I didn't orgasm in my daughter's personal space." Regina smiled at Emma. "Not yet, at any rate. If you want to join the fun, I'm not wearing any panties."

"I am never having sex again," Emma muttered.

Regina eyed the porthole. The waterspout wasn't getting any closer, but it was still there. And she had no desire to get carpal tunnel syndrome.

"It's not enough. It can't just be me and Emma, Mary-Margaret and me. It has to be you two."

Mary-Margaret and Emma looked at each other for a long moment.

"No way!"

"Absolutely not!"



"Hell no!"

Regina chuckled. "I didn't mean like that, though it's interesting it took you exactly seven seconds to dismiss the possibility of incest. I'm talking about reconciliation." She started stroking them again. "While I'm fingering you, of course."

Regina gave both of them a third finger. She knew Emma would love it, and like mother, like daughter.

Emma took a deep breath. "Mom, I'm sorry I oh shit! sorry I snapped at you. I didn't mean it when I said holy fuck that I wish I hadn't broken the Curse. I love having you yes oh yes as a mom. I just wish you'd stop treating me like a yes baby please oh baby… baby."

Mary-Margaret was biting her lip. "Emma, I love you, I love it I fucking love it… I just want to help you like a good mother should fuck, yes, Regina! I'm so sorry you were given the disadvantages that you were, and I respect that shit finger my cunt yes you've learned your own lessons in life. But if you've learned to be some kind of cynical fucker, Regina, you motherfucker person! Then I can't accept that! I will always want you to come, make me come Regina be a good, caring, happy person and I will never give up on fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!"

Emma moaned and took Mary-Margaret's hand. Mary-Margaret moaned and squeezed Emma's. Then they slumped down the wall, twitching and breathing heavy.

Regina looked out the porthole. "Well, at least the storm isn't coming."

Emma did some more pull-ups. If there was one thing that could get her mind off sex, it was going up and down, up and down, faster and faster, sweating, breathing hard, almost like she was bouncing, bouncing on a—

Regina knocked on the open door. "Just checking: so you never ever want to talk about the time you and your mom had a simultaneous orgasm because I was fingering you?"

Emma dropped down to look at her. "It never happened."

"Perhaps we should come up with a cover story then. After all, someday your father might be curious how I know that his wife tastes a little like blackberries, but his daughter is surprisingly sweet in comparison."

Emma felt a wave of heat go through her. She'd been pushing herself too hard during her work-out. That was all. "I should've just thrown myself overboard."

"Oh, don't blame yourself." Regina sauntered through the room, her hands knotted together, the first two fingers of one hand stroking the back of the other in a way that she knew brought back memories for Emma. "I was the one who knocked out Hook and your idiot father. If I hadn't, maybe we could've talked them out of fighting and the storm would've just gone away on its own. Who knows?"

"You do. You're the magic expert." Emma's brow furrowed. "You could've planned this whole thing."

Regina grinned. "Don't be ridiculous; why would I do that?"

Emma shrugged. Regina had a point. As fucked-up as she was, Emma didn't think she'd initiate a mother-daughter threesome just for the fun of it. Grunting at Regina, she grabbed her jacket.

"Besides," Regina needled, "everyone knows I'm not that hot at revenge."