Robin squinted and adjusted the sight of his trusty crossbow: a figure appeared from behind the hill and made way to the farm house. A woman, striding with an air of confidence like she owned the place. Most probably she did – after all, he was staking out the presumed dwelling of The Wicked Witch. His muscles tensed and relaxed, falling into familiar routine of the hunt. Better wait until the target is past his hideout, no point in taking any chances with the witch, then let the arrow find its goal. The woman neared: dark haired, beautiful and frustrated judging from tension in her gait and the heavy sigh.

He started changing his position and suddenly tensed: a dried twig broke and the sound startled the witch. She turned and snarled: "Show yourself, you winged freak!" Robin knew he was made and fired. In that same instant the brunette twisted and caught the arrow. He took a sharp breath. Wicked or not, she had some amazing reflexes. Wisest choice would be run as fast as his legs could carry but something about her kept him in place. Suddenly the pieces of the puzzle fell into places: this was the town mayor herself, better known as The Evil Queen. Best to pretend that it was an honest mistake, maybe if he apologized, she would not turn him into something slimy.

"Apologies, milady! I thought you were The Wicked Witch."

She frowned. "I thought you were the flying monkey."

"I do hope my mistake hasn't cost me my head, Your Majesty". Robin briskly walked to her, throwing away all pretenses – it wouldn't do to anger the woman who could catch arrows with her bare hands and in general was the most powerful in this strange place.

Brown eyes widened in surprise. "So, you know who I am."

"Your reputation in The Enchanted Forest precedes you."

"I didn't catch your name."

"Robin of Locksley, at your service."

She dropped the arrow in his proffered hand and smirked. "The Thief."

He bristled. "Well, as we're tossing the labels around, aren't you technically known as The Evil Queen?"

"I... prefer Regina."

Robin looked at her then, really looked at her. For an instant sadness washed over her dark eyes but that was gone before he could blink. She pointed at his crossbow teasingly.

"You think you can bring down The Wicked Witch with sticks?"

"Well, I'm certainly going to try." Robin may not have magic but he was the best damn shot in the whole damn forest and beyond. Even if beautiful dark haired witches batted away his arrows like some sort of nuisance.

They both agreed that even though the farm house was empty, there might be some trail left behind. He gently but firmly disposed Regina of the notion that she would leave him behind like her obedient page boy. The brunette regarded him curiously.

"Just… don't get in my way."

He smiled. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Dark eyes were still intent on him. "Have… have we met before?"

"I doubt I'd ever forget meeting you." He was sure of it, as he was sure of his own name. Magnificent and fearless, those eyes… Robin suddenly felt like drowning so he did what he was best at, whether it was arrows or wit. Deflect, distract, regroup and adjust. Then patience, persistence and go for the kill. The right moment always presented itself to him.

Regina was a tad frustrated. Not only the thief had the audacity to shoot at her, then he insisted on accompanying her to the farm house while shamelessly flirting along the way. Like his plaything would be worth anything if they stumbled upon The Wicked Witch. The nest was empty though and she rifled through the witch's belongings, trying not to pay attention how closely the thief kept himself to her side. Suddenly she decided that two could play that game and walked around the wooden desk, lightly brushing his shoulder.

"A good witch covers her tracks, but a better one can uncover them." She bent to investigate the contents of the shelf, knowing perfectly well that her coat brushed him just so. Nothing too elaborate, yet she always gave as good as she got. She felt him retreat slightly and smirked.

"You know, I've heard many stories about the great and terrible Evil Queen. But from this angle the evil moniker seems somewhat an overstatement. Bold and audacious perhaps, but not evil." Regina could barely keep herself from laughing, "angle" indeed. What are they, hormonal teenagers? She turned around.

"The name has served me well. Fear can be quite an effective tool." The thief should do well to remember who she is.

His lips twitched in a smile and he crossed the already short distance between them. Regina's throat suddenly felt dry like sandpaper and all she could think was how close he was, how good he smelled, leather and pines and man and she forgot to think, to breathe. He leaned in and for a split second Regina felt his breath on her lips, air almost crackling around them. His arm reached behind her and slowly, deliberately so, pulled a bottle from the shelf.

"What about this? Is this magical?"

Oh, that cheeky bastard. She could think a lot of delicious ways of repaying him for this. The thief wouldn't know what hit him. Regina was nothing if not patient when it suited her. She inspected the bottle, deliberately letting her fingers brush with his. His eyes were focused intently on her.

"Not exactly. But it is a liquid that can conjure courage, give strength or even act as a love potion of sorts." His eyebrows rose at that. Regina chuckled. "It's called whiskey and no, it's not magical. Especially the next day." She definitely was not thinking about the whiskey, the now and the next day, and what sort of activities may or may not occur in between.

The handsome thief grinned and reached again behind her for two tumblers. Definitely deliberate. Not that she was complaining. Still, having a drink? Now?

"Well, during the last few days we've survived the curse, woken up in an entirely new realm and forgot a year of our lives… I'd say we've earned it. Wouldn't you?" He turned around, eyes intent and that charming smile already melting her insides. She reached for the tumbler and suddenly froze. Lion tattoo. He had a lion tattoo, the same one she glanced briefly at through the glass of that god forsaken inn all those years ago. She still dreamed of that night and no sleeping potion or pill would help. No. This was not happening. Not now.

"Is something wrong?" The genuine concern in his face was the last straw. Regina breathed deeply but no words came, the instinct to fight or flight kicked in and she bolted, ears ringing with hurt and confusion in his voice.

"Regina!"