Disclaimer: I do not own the show or these characters. I also have no rights to Sealy Posturepedic or Family Feud.

Additional Note: Here there be lots of Swan Queen and later some Mary Margaret/David, Gold/Belle, and Hook/floor. Although this story is labeled a humor/romance it's kind of a jumble of humor, romance, angst, crack, etc. Don't ask me why, it just wants what it wants.

I Kissed An Evil Queen (And I Liked It)

Emma stands on the shores of Neverland more confident than before she embarked on this journey. She is so far from home and in the company of people who bring the right hook out of her. She traveled a whole month on the high seas with family, less than pleasant individuals, and a few surprise guests. They went through a special kind of hell to get to this beach (some more than others). But only one person made all that worth it – two if you count the 11-year-old boy that is the reason for this adventure.

It wasn't a total bomb. There is much to be thankful for when Emma thought on it. The trip brought about good times, memories that would be stored away for later, and revelation induced feelings that still need to be sifted through.

But Emma never was good at telling stories. Maybe that's why this one is starting ass backwards. Damn spoilers.

And so her story opens… as it should… at the beginning…

It only took 24 hours into the voyage until Hook took matters into his own hands. Literally, he navigated, hoisted anchor, steered, the whole nine yards all on his own. The pirate was a regular old renaissance man (emphasis on old because the guy was well into his 70s or so).

It all started when David decided to go all heroic by climbing the lookout. When at the top he attempted to raise the nice embroidered flag his wife made. Now if he had any sense he would have had a spotter monitoring his safety. Exactly 45 minutes later (Gold had synced his pocket watch) David was found swinging upside down several terrifying feet in the air like a human pendulum. Mary Margaret screamed bloody murder, causing more panic to her already terrified husband. Emma tried to lend a hand but ended up getting tangled in the line and bound hip to hip with a prickly brunette.

With all their talk of doing good the only impression the Charmings made was their ability to look like first class fools. From then on Hook put a ban on all idiots with Charming blood. To his disappointment David couldn't get within a foot of the crow's nest.

That left Emma to stand at the helm looking out to sea and trying not to touch anything that would break or cause injury. She was also fighting the urge to puke her guts out.

The rocking. Someone should really stop the rocking.

"And here I thought swans liked the water."

Regina appeared from the shadows. She still wore that coat, the one cinched at the waist and accented with buttons. The thing hugged every wonderful curve. Her eyes shined in the moonlight, her mouth forming a smile.

"Haven't adjusted to the rocking I see," the brunette noted. "Would have thought with your record you would have caved under pressure and thrown yourself overboard by now."

"You're hilarious, Regina." There was a small chortle. Only one person had the pleasure of hearing it lately and Emma was damn protective of that right. She made room for the brunette inching next to her. "No," Emma said definitively, "I don't run anymore, not unless it's in the general direction of my kid."

"Well, wait till we're ashore before you go heroically diving into peril. Henry's no good without some reckless blonde of a mother to save him."

If they didn't share a son Emma could have sworn the woman cared about her well-being. That or the fact that Regina would just as much throw herself under the boat before getting left with the other idiot companions. It was wholly by Regina's choice in keeping distance from the others. She had nothing to say to Gold or Hook, and now that Mary Margaret's heart was darkened enough to her liking she didn't see fit to become any more than cabin neighbors with her and her hubby. That left Emma who was fast becoming a suitable person to stand silently next to, and if it came to it, exchange words with.

Suddenly Emma doubled over, hands still gripped firmly to the railing. She blew out a long breath, swaying more than necessary considering the rocking ship. She still felt the lingering effects reaped by their combined magical efforts in the mine. The senses (or was it hormones?) were heightened in each other's presence – it's why standing above deck Emma suddenly couldn't bear the smell of the ocean when Regina made her presence known. Add to that a ship jiving like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever and PRESTO! you've got a blonde savior in need of saving (or of some ginger candy).

"My presence is needed below deck," Emma moaned not at all discreetly.

"That or you can't take a little sea nausea."

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that from the woman who threw up all over my boots the other day."

With a hand Regina steadied the woman. She pointed out to sea. "Just stare at the horizon and maybe both our boots will get out unscathed."

Dipping unhurriedly into the water the dimming sun served as a point for Emma to stare. Side by side they stood, drinking in the shimmering ocean. It was a comfortable silence, yet they were in constant worry, about their kidnapped son, the dangerous storm Gold had prophesized was headed their way, whether David would break a five day peace negotiation and make a second attempt at the lookout, and why on earth their brushing shoulders instilled a pleasing sort of trepidation.

"I know you're mad. I know you miss him. But we can be mad and miss our son together, you know?"

"Because we're…" Regina smirked, "stronger together?"

"Come on, who's a poet in desperate situations?"

Regina gave a grand expression of surprise. "I didn't know you considered yourself a poet in any situation, Miss Swan."

They both shared a smile. Emma's shoulder accidentally bumped into Regina's. The brunette not only allowed the invasion but rubbed up to it. It was chilly on the quarterdeck, so why wouldn't she?

"Really though," Emma sighed and picked at the wooden rail with a fingernail, "if you want to talk about it… Henry I mean, and… I don't know…"

"You want me to cry on your shoulder?"

"No!" cried the blonde. Regina's brows scrunched further together. "I… not unless you want to, of course. I can just see that you have a lot on your mind. Holding it in won't help. I have my parents, but you don't have anyone."

"Well it's good that I have you to remind me of that."

"Regina –"

"No, I think you made yourself perfectly clear. For once you can actually articulate a state of fact." Regina turned on Emma. It was getting dark amidst the sunset, but if one looked hard enough, if they were astute enough as Emma was when it came to Regina, they would have seen a tear crawl down a cheek. "I am alone. I have nobody, not on this boat and sure as hell not in Storybrooke. So thank you for recapping for me." Her face fell tragically. Brown eyes held Emma's green for an insurmountable amount of time, almost pleading for someone (Emma) to put her out of her misery. Her whisper carried the last traces of hope, however small they were. "For a minute there I almost forgot."

If you gave her a simple tap on the shoulder Emma would have shattered into a million guilty pieces. She was utterly shamefaced and in need of a time machine to slap 'two-minutes-ago-Emma' across the face.

She was already gone, the last vestiges of wispy brown locks dancing behind her.

"Ugh," the blonde groaned and shoved a hand through her hair, "really Swan?!"

She ran, but unlike the scared, insecure Emma of the past she ran towards the mess she created.

Emma chased Regina to their shared quarters (assigned but to neither of their dismay). It was cramped, stuffy and lacked the décor a former mayor sought necessary to stand in. Mary Margaret offered to spruce up the room but got vetoed by a death glare and some comment about destroying happiness.

"Regina…"

The brunette whirled to reveal eyes of Satan. "Stop following me! This damn boat is small enough already I don't need you chasing after me like a golden retriever." Regina automatically thought of how Henry used to chase her heels excitedly when he learned to walk. Her heart broke and she almost couldn't breath.

"Hey," the roommate barked, "you aren't queen or mayor anymore, so stop telling me what to do! Anyway, I live here too and I can't leave because all the other cabins are full. Just my luck," she finished with a mumble.

Regina had the ears of Superman.

"If you don't like it here I can arrange for more spacious living quarters." Regina brightened a nice tomato red. To Emma, her angry badger face was getting far less cute and more Stephen King level terrifying. "How about the goddamned sea?!"

Emma's eyes practically rolled out of there sockets. "Just relax, Regina."

"No, you relax!"

"You misinterpreted what I said. Jesus, you always do this. Just when it seems like we're making peace – for Henry – your insecurities get in the way and cause a huge fucking road block."

"It's always my fault isn't it? Curse the town, destroy happiness… and let's not forget when Ruby spilled coffee all over Belle or that one time Pongo went missing. That has to be my fault as well. I can never do anything right."

"No, this is on both of us. I make mistakes, too. Big ones like not believing your innocence in 'Archie's murder,'" she air quoted. Her eyes panned down as hands were shoved into her backpockets. "I also could be more supportive of your redemption process. You had a lot to deal with when Cora died. You must have felt abandoned and… well, lonely."

"I was," Regina's voice grew deep with resentment, "and yet you still kept my son from me. When I needed him most, Miss Swan. I needed his support, his love. Ample confusion might have been avoided if I just had my family. You took that option away when you had no right."

Emma's hands went out pleadingly, her pretty features sagging in shame. "I know. That's why this is an all-inclusive apology." A bottom lip protruded slightly into a pout, showing that no matter how many steps were taken to make amends this woman may not give an inch. "I'm sorry," she murmured, "and I'm a total jerk."

"That dig just a while ago, about me not having anyone? That was low even for you."

"That's not… What I meant was …" Emma licked her lips hurried like her son and grew bashful as a result. "I thought the past few days have been good. We haven't argued, I don't have a black eye..." Her head bobbed in some kind of Emma Swan style of punctuation (a language Regina herself would never admit to understanding). "So you're not completely alone. You, ah, you have me. Eh, ya know?"

The innocent expression harkened back to the first time they met. Regina remembered the childlike nervousness, the meager "Hi," and subsequent shoulder slump. It was the most adorable and infuriating introduction Regina had ever beheld. But that was a year ago and those traits held a different meaning now. Adorable was no longer taken as 'she looks like my son,' and infuriating not in the 'I want to punch your lights out' way. Rather adorable in the 'huggable dopey golden retriever' way, and infuriating in the 'I want to kiss your face off' way.

It was a realization Regina Mills was just experiencing when Emma's mouth ran into her. She would have bit that pouty bottom edge in anger but her lips had a different plan entirely. The betraying flesh of her mouth pressed against Emma's, pressed with fervor. That was when Regina realized kissing Emma Swan was far more satisfying than fighting her.

They separated. Regina wide-eyed and open-mouthed and Emma trying to remember what two plus two equals. Just as the blonde squeezed her eyes shut to form that solution she was pulled by the neck. At first Emma thought she was being choked, which was probable considering how much of a bitch she had been. Then lips laid siege to her mouth. Regina was kissing her like it was her winning ticket for the million dollar lottery. Oooh, Emma thought as a tongue slipped in, how about the billion dollar lottery?

Arms enveloped each other, closing the space. Though their limited quarters had nothing to do with it, very little distance remained between them. Hips and thighs met in the middle, and heaving chests strained against one another. They grabbed and they kissed all the while thinking if only they could get closer. If only they could melt into something beautiful as their magic did twice before.

Regina stumbled back from Emma's need to get that much closer. Her feet faltered, but her lips hung on selfless, brave and true. She gripped Emma's hair and gasped. Regina was finally able to test the fortitude of those gold spun locks. She liked the feel of it. She especially liked how a bitty squeak came out of Emma when it was tugged hard enough.

Before Emma joined the water as a melted puddle on the floor (there was a persistent leakage issue in barco de Hook) she slipped them into the bottom bunk. It was no great feat as Regina was small enough to handle. Regina continued to kiss and suck the sanity from Emma's lips while the blonde maneuvered overtop. It was awkward, the mechanics of it all. They were in a confined space of a ship that with every wave cast them against a thin wall separating Emma from her dear parents. Not to mention Emma was used to a Posturepedic and not this peasant, feather bed nonsense.

No, not awkward at all. Hot, that was for sure, but not a lovely bedtime story to tell your children of how I met your mother – or, rather, how it took a leaky boat, cabin fever, and lame sexual euphemisms from a pirate to get your mom to feel something for your other mom. And let us not mention the never ending game shows that are Charming-Mills Family Feud and How to Get the Savior to Taste Her Tainted Fruit: Poisoned Edition. Nope, no signs of awkward down here, Scotty.

The brunette moaned when Emma put her back into it, tasting every inch of that mouth and grabbing handfulls that may have included a full breast. Regina curled obscenely into the pressing body she magically threw from her porch that one time in a fit of repressed sexual rage. Good times, good times.

"I hate… myself… for n… not doing this sooner," Emma muttered in quick heated breaths.

"What, for not pinning me down and… and exerting some of that – aaaah, authority you've been lacking?" Regina fought back the teases to her neck by taking that absurd bottom lip between her teeth, finally. She bit down with that sentimental ruthlessness ever present in their confrontations as mayor and sheriff. Emma's pained cry was muffled by her torturer's mouth.

Something major (and by major she means M-A-J-O-R) was escaping Emma in that moment. Her brain fogged and began to feel the effects of vertigo (which were not at all a result of sea nausea). It was not the time to be forgetting the step-by-steps of getting into a woman's pants and neither were her shaking hands. Her breath was coming in shallow, Regina was doing a sexy moan thing, and Emma Swan forgot how to have sex. Do I take her clothes off? Do I take my clothes off? What does she think about me on top? Can't we just get off before I do something embarrassing?

Honestly, it didn't matter much. Emma was A-OK as long as she got to willingly touch the former mayor and coax inhuman sounds from her. Indefinitely. And really, it hadn't been that long for Emma. What was it, 15 months since she slept with that one guy in that obscure hotel room after a meaningless night on the town? If there was anything that put Emma at ease it was that her current lover could be put in that category as well. She hadn't been counting the days, but Regina had to have gone a while, ever since… Graham? Oh. OH.

"What is it? Why are you stopping?"

Emma blinked over her.

Regina wanted to change. She had changed. That was the mantra running through Emma's mind. It was the trust in her eyes and the faith she had in Regina that convinced her of the transformation. It was the tousled hair splayed on the pillow, the smell of her expensive perfume (still lingering after five days on a ship for christsake), and the way her just-kissed-by-Emma lips puckered that dispelled any further doubts.

She took the woman's chin between thumb and forefinger, examining the bruised target with a predator's eye. "I was just... thinking."

"Hm, one of your more admirable qualities."

"Oh, shut up." Emma turned away from the hand tucking a strand back. "I just, need to take a breath."

"Don't be long. I'm an impatient woman."

"Don't I know it." Emma pressed their grins together in a kiss. But like all hot and heavy first rendezvous it had to be rudely interrupted.

Just as Emma felt fingers fluttering above her waistband a loud banging on their door startled them out of pre-coitus. Without preamble Regina shoved Emma who expertly landed on the floor like a rejected, dead fish (bulging eyes and agape mouth). They froze in fear like teenagers who had been caught necking. They also grimly hoped the intruder wouldn't hear the sounds of their libido screaming.

It was Gold rapping his cane.

"It appears I am the designated steward in this establishment," came the resentful voice. "Dinner is served. Hop to or no soup for you!"

Leaking water seeped into Emma's jeans, making her feel grungier than her return from the Enchanted Forest. It also didn't help that she just got twat swatted by Rumplestiltskin himself.