A/N: There will be some original characters in this story, some recognizable ones. I'll let everyone know straight up that this story will not be very kind to Robin Hood, so if you're a fan of him, I'd suggest passing.

This should end up being pretty long and I plan on updated regularly. I have a good chunk written and have plenty of ideas coming with no writers block in sight. :)

Oh, and one last thing, I mention a song later in this chapter. If you're interested in setting it up and playing it when mentioned its: I Like it Like That by Pete Rodriguez.

Last of all, ENJOY. Tons of swan queen feels coming your way!

All it took was one step off the plane before the wind blew hot across her face. Regina closed her eyes and raised one hand to keep the hat that pushed down her hair and shaded her eyes from flying off and tossing and turning into the current of the wind. The sun reached down with its rays and pulled her lips into an easy smile that only the Caribbean could produce.

As she walked from the quaint airport with her bags in tow, her heels gave into the soft pavement, made pliable and shimmering from the heat. Somewhere in the distance, island music was playing. It was the sort of thing that would have annoyed her at home, something to do with its lack of authenticity. Dirt-caked drums and tanned hands fingering trumpets were the only way to go according to her, anything less was unacceptable. But this, this music floating through the sky with its effortlessly looping beats, this was real, and for once, she was going to enjoy it.

Black asphalt transitioned into white concrete as she neared the car dealership that stood connected to the airport. A giant sign was painted atop the building with the words, Island Auto, spreading across in blocked letters. The paint was chipping a bit on the A, but to her, everything was so goddamn beautiful here that she barely noticed it.

Her manicured hands latched onto the glass door that marked the entrance of the shop and when pulled open, a rush of cool air burst out at her and slithered across her skin until her pores let out a collective sigh. Everything felt good. The heat, the cold, being alive, it was all, just so….good. She searched for a word better than good, a word that didn't seem so shallow to describe how she felt, but could not. It would become a goal, she decided, to find that word. By the end of the trip, she would do it.

"Hola," a young man shouted from behind the front desk. He wore a polo issued by the company, but had left all the buttons undone to reveal his smooth, tanned chest. Around his neck hung one of those touristy shell necklaces, and after he walked around to face Regina, she realized he had one around his bare ankle as well.

"Hello," she replied with a smile. It was generous for her to offer up such a relaxed face that easily, but like she'd already acknowledged, she felt great. The twitch of her lips only widened at the thought of how dismayed all of her employees at home would be to see her right now.

To them, she was the sharp-edged boss who ruled an entire building from inside her office. The only times they saw her was coming in to work, the brief period in the middle of the day when she went to lunch or a meeting, and when she went home. During those times she made sure they were treated with a scornful look and a flip of her hair.

According to her mother there were only two things that a woman needed in life: intimidation and sophistication. It had taken nearly thirty years, but both had finally been drilled into Regina's head and her career had flourished because of it.

On the other hand, her personal life had wilted into a mess of decomposing leaf matter and dirt named Robin because of it, but that was beside the point. The point was that she was free, she was on vacation (sort of), and she was going to enjoy herself.

"What are you looking for today, Señora?" the man spoke with a native accent and each word rolled off his tongue with ease.

"I have a reservation. It's under Regina Mills," she said, sliding her license across the desk. The man took it and glanced at it, his shoulders relaxing at the realization that he wouldn't have to woo another tourist into upgrading from a sedan to a luxury SUV.

After all, this was Regina Mills, and she, of course, had already reserved the most expensive convertible available, complete with leather interior and a killer sound system. Not that she would ever use those descriptions, but that's what the car salesman over the phone had told her when she had called ahead of time to reserve it.

'We've got a beautiful, just beautiful convertible here. Seductive, alluring, powerful, killer sound system, you want it?' She'd been amused by his words, drawn to them even, no matter how colloquially they came out of his mouth and without really understanding why, she'd accepted without any further questions.

As the employee pulled the car around to the front, she walked back outside and immediately the weight of the heat settled down on her shoulders with incredible consistency. She pushed her sunglasses up atop her head, her dark brown hair pulling back with it.

The sun splintered against the red paint of the car and the man hopped out the side without opening a door. He held out her license between two fingers and threw her a wink that she assumed worked for him on most women, but she only pushed her sunglasses down back over her eyes and snapped the license back into her hand.

He loaded the car with her bags, and then held out his business card. "Anytime you need anything just give me a call."

She looked at the card, knowing exactly what she would have done with it if she was at home, something that involved throwing it back in his face and lashing out, but instead she just grabbed it and tossed it into the abyss of the back seat with a good-natured smile.

"Aw, why's it gotta be like that?" the salesman whined when he saw his chance with the attractive woman flutter away with the card, but Regina barely even noticed him. Instead, she ran her fingers over the steering wheel and shifted it into drive, simultaneously cranking up the music to a limit she'd never allow at home.

A raspy male voice with a chorus of women singing 'I like it like that' to a latin beat filled her speakers and she couldn't agree more in that moment.

Her drive to the hotel could only be described as something from a movie, cascading mountains contrasted with sweeping panoramas of ocean left her juggling between navigating the twisting roads and looking out to appreciate the breathtaking views. Palm trees lined the highway that snaked along the coast and she watched in amusement as boys and girls alike climbed them like monkeys in order to throw down the fruits that dangled teasingly at the top.

The road eventually ascended and then dipped into an expansive complex that she assumed to be the resort. It was accommodating in the sense that the website had assured her it would have everything she needed for a relaxing vacation, and yet she was delighted at how seamlessly it blended into its surroundings.

All of the building's sides were painted pinks and teals and oranges and the ceilings gave off that appearance of being thatched. Plants grew up the walls and lined sidewalks, flowers burst from every direction. Rather than sticking out of the foliage like a man-made eyesore she was so used to seeing in New York, this one was content to hide behind the natural attractions of the island. She could appreciate the beauty in that.

Pulling up to the entrance of the hotel, she settled to park her car on the side of the entrance loop in the shade. Once her music was finally quiet and the engine cut, the rush of the ocean filled her ears and swirled around inside of her, effectively cleaning out months of stress, loneliness, and anger that had built up. She stepped out of the car and strolled, yes, actually strolled, through the sliding glass doors.

"Hello, how can I help you?" An older woman with a puff of white hair floating around her head asked from the behind the desk.

"Regina Mills. I have a reservation," just like at the car dealership, she slid across her license, this time accompanied with her credit card. The woman swiped the cards and fiddled around on the computer before passing back her cards along with a few pamphlets.

"You're in the Garden Suite, Room twelve, wonderful view of the ocean," she pointed to a pink paper with a list of times and locations. "We have tons of activities and excursions available. All meals are included. The restaurant is out back, the bar is attached to that, our concierge can answer any questions you have. They're available 24/7 and probably the most patient people you'll ever meet."

Regina chuckled at that. She wouldn't be a bother on this vacation, but she'd been known to be that customer in the past, calling for information and answers at ungodly hours.

"And Ms. Mills," the woman said with a smile that could only be described as grandmotherly, "have a wonderful time."

A deep sigh emitted from Regina's throat, and with that sigh came everything she had been holding onto: a rough break up, an even rougher sting of betrayal, bitter loneliness that had turned even the most guarded sections of herself ice cold. It was all released into the air and bid farewell. For once, she thought, I am going to have a wonderful time.

And she did, for three whole steps.

"Regina?" The voice cut through her skin and infiltrated her veins like a dye, tainting every inch of blood that had finally begun to transport oxygen with efficiency once again. All healing that had begun from the ocean and the mountains and the palm trees ceased. A shiver ran up her back and she tensed her shoulders from shaking noticeably as it worked its way out of her.

"Regina?" It came again and this time she could not pretend it was a phantom that her brain had invented to torture her. All it took was a careful turn on her heels and her entire vacation was ruined. No, it was more than that. In that simple turn, months of focus, determination, and self-reassurance that she was not an emotionless, worthless, vessel of a beautiful body was destroyed and replaced by a heart that stood too still and hands that weren't still enough.

There, in front of her, stood Robin. Ex-lover, Ex-husband, Ex-partner, or as she liked to refer to him these days: The Cheating Bastard. On his arm was the slim, Mia. Otherwise known by Regina as: Whore.

She knew it wasn't classy to call people whores, or even to think it for that matter, and by principle she tried her best to empower the simple idea of the woman by eliminating man-made derogatory terms from her vocabulary, but goddamn she allowed herself this one.

After all, it wasn't as if Mia was an innocent unsuspecting woman who just happened to get entangled in a marriage by ways of her ex-husbands charm. No, Mia had been actively involved in Regina's life before she met Robin, and even after she met Robin, and even further while she was secretly fucking Robin.

She had been there holding Regina's hand while Regina waded through years of emotional abuse and self-doubt put on by her mother. She had been there when Regina had upped her weekly visits from two to four during a particularly rough patch in her life.

And of course, she had been there when Regina had burst into her office in tears, crying that she was sure, so absolutely sure, that her husband was cheating on her. She had definitely been there for that, because when Regina did break open that door and run in with mascara tracks down her face she had found Mia, her psychologist, her confident, her friend, writhing on her desk in pleasure, Robin's naked body looming over her.

And now, they were both standing there in front of her.

Fuck.

"What are you doing here?" Robin asked in an accusatory tone that made Regina's teeth ache.

"What are you doing here?" Regina shot back. So far, during the separation, and the divorce, and even after that, Regina had remained a strong resolve around Robin. He had never seen her, besides that unfortunate scene in the Mia's office that is, as broken as she felt by the whole ordeal, and she wasn't planning on starting now.

"We're here for vacation," he said as he waved his hand between his chest and Mia's. Regina glanced to Mia, who cast her eyes down to the ground. The nerve, Regina thought, for them, for her, to show up here.

"And you had to pick this place?" Regina spat as her eyes worked to level Robin to the ground. She remembered him claiming a few times during their marriage that she had the power to reduce men into puddles of piss with her glares. She hoped he was included in this description.

"Well, you had it all planned, and a bunch of the bookmarks were still on my computer so I figured it would be easier than starting all over."

"On the exact weekend I had planned for us to go?" Regina's strength was weakening and when she saw Mia's hand stroking up and down Robin's arm she knew it was only a matter of time before Robin would get the satisfaction of seeing her crumble.

"It's just a weekend." He said it with a shrug, which was so typical. So typical. He had never looked beyond the outside of Regina, instead treating her emotions like some inconvenience should they not match up with his own. Even now, apart, he was still doing it.

The truth was that it was not "just a weekend" or "just a place". It was supposed to be their vacation. During their relationship, Regina had been planning it meticulously for months. It was supposed to be their rekindling vacation where they fell in love once again. It was supposed to be the vacation where Robin stopped hating Regina and started adoring her and where Regina allowed him to. But then The Office Incident happened and obviously all plans after that were abandoned.

"Whatever," was all Regina could squeak out before tilting her head toward the bellhop who had been awkwardly standing with her bags the entire time, waiting for directions. Once his attention was captured the two of them, Regina and the bellhop, walked toward the elevator.

"Wait," Robin called after her. Regina hadn't planned to turn around to even listen to him, but he had jogged up next to her so she wasn't left with much of a choice. "Did you use the reservation? Cause I was kind of banking on the suite still being free."

Regina's mouth actually opened. It was just a sliver of a slot, but it slacked for sure. "You mean using the reservation I made with my credit card?"

"I was planning on putting my own information down, but yeah, that one. Did you use it?" Robin asked.

"Yes I fucking used it," Regina muttered between gritted teeth. Her hands squeezed tight around her purse and her she feared her jaw muscles would cramp up and never open again from how tightly she was clenching them.

He nodded after a pause and ran back to the front desk. Regina took the opportunity to stomp into the elevator. She and the bellhop spent a tense couple seconds of silence traveling up to the second floor. When they got to her room, he threw down the bags unceremoniously and hurried out of there before she even got to press a few bills into his hand, no doubt wanting to be as far away from the ticking bomb that was Regina when time ran out.

As predicted, once the door to her suite was shut and the bags placed on the floor, Regina walked over to the couch and picked up a lamp that sat on a side table. With a snap, she pulled the plug from the wall outlet and smashed it on the floor. Glass from the bulb skittered across the wooden panels, but the wire-frame of the shade merely bent out of shape. Picking it up, Regina smashed it once again, the wire bending more and the linen shade tearing from the torque.

She walked to the nearest wall and slid down until she sat on the ground, her head burying in her own lap. Tears came silently and flowed without distinguishable drops. The sound of the waves slapping against the shore filtered in through the open window as a condolence, but the sound only caused her buried head to dip deeper into her lap.

A stinging in her hand caused her head to turn and she observed the pricked marks of blood that peeked out of her palm like flower buds. Jigsaw pieces of light bulb lay around her and she guessed that a few were probably poking into her legs as she sat, too bad the numbness had already settled there.

She waited a few seconds, knowing that the numb tingling that always began in her legs would soon be spreading up her abdomen and into her hands and arms. Then, the stinging would stop.

Sure enough, it did. It expanded and attacked her limb by limb until she was no more feeling than a block of ice.