A/N: Boo… Yeah I never finished all my fics last summer. I probably won't manage it this summer either. But I did meet Lana last weekend so ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE and dreams really do come true!

BREAK

Regina had compromised, finding a car service instead of a taxi. She would stand by her offer of a vacation to her driver. Loving parents should be with their children. She had no idea where she was going, though. The address Emma had given her had showed up on Google Maps in some kind of industrial district with a crime rate higher than - well, Regina was trying not to think about it. She was also trying not to think about the delicious ache below her belly that an hour-long cold shower this morning had done nothing whatsoever to dissipate.

At least she'd slept well… She didn't want to admit it to Emma, but she'd been woken up several times by nightmares, cruel echoes of her childhood that she could never seem to get away from. She rolled her shoulders. Her body felt amazing, that was irrefutable. And she was definitely ready to dance.

The driver pulled up.

"Are you sure it's here, Ma'am?" he asked. Regina slipped out of the car, saying that yes, she was quite sure, thank you. She wondered if this was all some elaborate joke to lure her into a shady part of town and ruin her. Maybe Emma just wanted her part, after all, Emma had always been the Swan Queen, the centre, the star… She'd gotten past Regina's defences and now she was going to break her-

"Hey, Regina? You okay? You look fucking terrified."

"Miss Swan, charmed, as always."

Emma laughed. "Sorry I'm late, I figured you wouldn't have eaten anything real so I picked up breakfast." She held out a despicably greasy looking paper bag which she seemed to expect Regina to take.

"No thank you, I have already eaten."

"Whatever, take it anyway so I can get my keys."

Regina rolled her eyes and took the bag. She had to admit, it smelled fantastic. A look wouldn't hurt… She peeped inside.

"Bacon grilled cheese," Emma said. "Go on. It's good."

"It's literally dripping with fat."

"Which will be muscle before you know it. Stop being so precious and have some."

Regina walked through the door that Emma held for her and delved into the bag, wincing as her hands touched the slimy meal. Her stomach screamed for it, though. She'd had nothing but an apple this morning. And in Emma's other hand was something definitely delightful - coffee.

"Here," Emma said, passing Regina a styrofoam cup and taking the bag back to get her own sandwich.

"Oh, fiddlesticks," Regina moaned as she bit into her sandwich.

Emma choked with laughter. "Did you just say fiddlesticks?"

Regina blushed bright red. "No."

"Liar."

"Okay, yes," Regina said, cringing. "But only because I don't curse."

"And why not? A good curse never hurt anybody."

"I must disagree. My… Cursing was not allowed when I was growing up."

"Oh, sure, but fuck that now, right?"

"I mean… I suppose it would not hurt. It's just habit."

Emma wolfed down the remainder of her sandwich. "That's your first lesson."

"What?"

"Here, come on." The blonde strolled into the centre of the studio (which was strangely perfect, a mix of disused factory and dated but certainly adequate dance equipment) and faced Regina, who was sitting with her back to the large wall mirror. Regina set down her sandwich and coffee (she ate slowly and neatly, no matter the menu) and followed.

Emma pointed to them in the mirror.

"Okay, take some deep breaths, use your diaphragm-"

"I know how to breathe, Swan."

Emma chuckled.

"Got your rhythm?" she asked after a few more breaths.

Regina nodded.

"Okay, now take another deep breath in and on the exhale, shout the first curse word that comes to mind."

Regina reddened. "I can't!"

"No such word as can't, Mills."

Regina narrowed her eyes. "You're trying to make me mad."

Emma grinned. "It's working, too."

"Emma, stop it, please. Let's just get to the dancing."

"This is part of it. Come on, Regina, it's gonna feel so good. Look."

Emma breathed deeply, looked right at the mirror, and,

"FUCK!"

Regina would have blushed again but she was still red from earlier. She began to feel nervous and tense, hating being given a task she felt unable to perform.

Emma bit her lip. Was this stupid? Regina seemed totally uncomfortable, anxious, even. Emma went up behind her. She still thought it was a good idea, she just… She rested her hands on Regina's hips. Regina jumped in surprise, even though she'd seen the move coming in the mirror. Somehow she hadn't expected to feel it - it had been as if what was happening in the mirror was another life, another world, a parallel universe over which she had no control.

Emma moved her hands to Regina's stomach, holding her. There was a section of one of their dances like this, where Regina turned on point and Emma spun her. Regina instinctively raised onto her toes; she was still in sneakers but she carried on with the step, needing something to focus on. Emma went along with it, doing her part but not letting go when the section was over.

"What's wrong?" Emma asked softly.

"I cannot tell you," Regina replied. "But thank you for asking."

Emma sighed. "You're a riddle, you know that?"

Regina looked at them in the mirror, thinking about the mess they'd gotten themselves into.

"Fuck," she muttered.

Emma grinned, pulling her closer into a kind of hug.

"Ha! Didn't that feel good?"

Regina smiled. "Yes, fine, I suppose it did. Now, may we dance?"

There was a pause. Emma decided to stop pushing. She put her iPod into the dock for the sound system.

"We're going to dance to this," she said. "But first, close your eyes, and we'll just listen."

She pressed play and let Saint Saens' "Le Cygne" echo through the silent room.

Regina closed her eyes, feeling suddenly cold. She had heard the piece before but in this situation she was thrown. She'd been expecting rock, pop, something loud, crude, something Emma. Well, something that fitted in with the simplistic idea of Emma she was already far beyond.

Her arms prickled with goose bumps as the notes of the cello swelled through the room. She thought about the swan in the music, soaring through the air, graceful, strong and powerful, and to her horror, she felt her eyes fill with tears.

Emma watched Regina stand in the middle of the room. The brunette was not a tall woman, but Emma had never seen her look so tiny. The last few days had demolished Regina's defences and without them she was raw and human and exquisite. Emma was transfixed; she didn't mean to stare and when tears started to pour down Regina's cheeks she wanted to turn off the music and comfort her but something held her back, something caught in her mind and she knew she had to let this happen. Regina needed this.

The piece ended in a light diminuendo and the quiet was so loud Emma could hardly hear herself think. Regina kept her eyes closed, darkness and white noise swelling around her as she hid behind denial and mortification. She was still crying. Emma crossed the room and stood opposite her but Regina made no acknowledgement. The foot between them might as well have been an ocean for all the good proximity did them.

Emma looked at Regina's tear stained face. The mask had been completely washed away and what lay underneath was both heartwrenchingly painful and devastatingly beautiful.

Regina's full, scarred lips trembled with the gentle sobs that still shook through her and Emma did the only thing she could think of. She kissed them.

In a way, the kiss did not surprise Regina at all. It felt so natural that she didn't even open her eyes, she just, for once, indulged in a moment of bliss.

It ended far, far too soon. Emma pulled back, Regina opened her eyes, the moment was gone and they just stared at each other. Regina wiped away her tears and the same movement seemed to restore her facade.

"Perhaps we should just dance to the Tchaik," Regina suggested.

Emma nodded. "Yeah, maybe that would be better."

"You can polish your turns."

"You can work on your acting."

A little smile. That was something, Emma thought. What had just happened, anyway? They changed their shoes, took off their jackets, set up the music, and Regina asked if they could rehearse the ballroom act, where she played her cursed, darkest self and needed to show no emotion whatsoever. Again, Emma chose not to push.

Regina wondered, as she danced, if one kiss could really be enough to know that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with the woman beside her. She came to the conclusion that she'd known long before it.

They danced into the evening, pausing only for swigs of water. At around 8pm, Regina felt a wave of exhaustion right before a lift and held up her hand.

"I need a minute," she said.

"We can stop," Emma said. "I mean, it's perfect. We don't need to do it again."

"Just because we do it perfectly once, does not mean it will be perfect every time," Regina said, sounding exactly like her mother and despising herself for it.

Emma sensed the tension, as in, even more tension than the tension they'd been dealing with for the entire afternoon.

"So what?"

She should have kept her mouth shut. For a moment something like agony flashed across Regina's face, but it morphed into anger before Emma could even be sure-

"So what? Do you care nothing about your career? Because if that is your attitude, Miss Swan, I have given you far more credit than you deserve! To think I was considering… To think I respected someone so entirely unprofessional, I-"

"Regina-"

"Don't interrupt me! What right have you to disregard my standards, to sneer at the one thing I excel at?"

"I… Look, I'm sure you're good at tons of stuff, anyway. You're an amazing cook, you're beautiful, you're actually pretty fun when you're not yelling at me-"

"You are entirely missing the point!"

"What were you considering?"

Regina faltered. "That wasn't the point either."

"But you said it, so what were you considering?"

"I… Stop pestering me, Miss Swan! We are here to dance."

Emma groaned. "No, we're not. I'm done for the day."

"You're giving up?"

"Giving up what, exactly? Practising a routine we've performed flawlessly countless times? Or fighting with you about nothing whatsoever?"

"We are not fighting about nothing! This is not nothing!"

"I think that's exactly what it is, Regina." Emma gestured between them. "This is nothing, not a thing."

"But you kissed me!" Regina blurted out.

"So you noticed that? You could've fooled me."

"Emma…"

Emma almost melted. The way Regina said her name… But no. She couldn't do this. She would not let her guard down just to be bulldozed yet again.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She made a beeline for the door, not even bothering to change her shoes.

"But-"

Emma tossed her the keys. "Lock up when you're done."

"Em-"

Emma couldn't let her say it again. "Goodbye, Regina," she said firmly, closing the door between them and keeping her hands on it as if it might burst open at any second. But Regina didn't follow her, there were no blasts of magic, and she got on her bike and went home.

Regina took a deep breath, then went to press play. Her hand hovered over the button of the piece she already knew far too well, and at the last moment she switched the song.

Rich cello notes swelled through the room as Regina threw herself into a dance her body created on its own. Tears welled up in her eyes but there was no one to see and she felt almost proud of them. Emma might think she was made of stone, but she knew the truth. She was the Swan, both dark and light, and she soared through the air with desolate grace, forbidden from the only love she wanted.