Emma anticipated Regina's return to the top deck, her mind replaying their recent encounters, body still pulsing from that sweet touch of Regina's lips on her delicate skin. The quaking shudder.

A gentle buzz of need had settled in Emma's gut and hummed in her veins, making her want very much to know what more of Regina's touch would feel like. But now wasn't the time, really. She shook her head, tried to clear her mind and concentrate on the importance task now in her hands.

The ship, the sea, were eerily quiet that night. Emma admitted to herself that this was probably a good thing, given her inexperience – Trouble with that was - soon, she was once again lost in thought.

She thought about being with Regina in the mine, about leaving her there, when she had known what it meant to do so. She'd swallowed the bitter taste of grief that swam up from her belly and in to her mouth and marched out of the mines ramrod straight to keep herself on task, to make sure everything that needed to happen did so. If Regina was going to sacrifice herself to save them all, Emma was gonna make damn sure nothing kept them from being saved. She thought about Snow and David wanting to go back down to open a portal and toss in the diamond, and about the war that waged within her—stay on the crazy express she'd boarded, and do what felt like the least risky thing in an impossible moment when no one could know what insanity was next, or take the even less sure path—and try to open the portal together.

As they argued in the diner, she imagined Regina in the mines below them, holding off their doom. She wanted to honor her request, not let her death be in vain. The longer they argued, or tried to carve out a new plan, the greater chance Regina—and all of them—would die. She'd wanted to be strong, hold firm, let Regina do the right thing. Alone. Because that was how people like her and Regina did things. Alone. They didn't leave things up to committee. They didn't depend on the whims and agendas of other people. They stayed strong, and they leapt. And sometimes, that was how people like the two of them died.

She thought about the flash of anger when Regina first saw them running up to her, realizing that her wishes had not been followed. And Emma saw the relief, the gratitude for another moment with Henry, and the confusion of their "plan."

She thought of the heartbreaking pain, that dark, haunting, tearful gaze when Regina admitted she couldn't save them by herself—when the most powerful woman in the world admitted she—alone—was not enough.

Mostly, though, Emma thought about the look that passed between them after she'd offered herself in partnership. Maybe that was it then, really. The moment. Even before their joining over the trigger. There was no way they would ever be the same after that moment, no matter what happened next. In the space of two heartbeats, they had reached out with love, and Emma saw in Regina a deep… it was bigger than gratitude. Was it happiness? It was a look she'd never seen on Regina before.

And then? Then, they were one, battling impossible odds, and that moment, too, Emma would never forget.

The surge of raw energy that swamped her first had felt dangerous, terrifying. She willed herself to respond in kind, to tamp down her rising fear and concentrate on absorbing and meeting the mass of pulsating energy with her own. The power of the trigger screamed through her and for a split second she'd thought they'd lost, but at just that moment, something new entered Emma. Regina's energy felt completely different from that of the trigger, and it wrapped up the threat and rage wherever it existed, twisted around it and destroyed it.

One section at a time, again and again, Emma felt the sensation of Regina's pure intention overtake the dark energy. Emma tried to copy her, to use her own energy as Regina did. Soon, she could feel the beginning of the end, knew the trigger was dying, and felt the rush of her own power as it climbed higher.

Thin tendrils of Regina, extra threads split from the battle at the trigger, reached out, and made their way along the paths that Emma had laid open inside herself. The whole of Emma shook, then, and there was no escaping the warm, dynamic energy that began to flood through her. She may have power of her own, but Regina… she was a force. As Emma willingly gave herself over completely to the sensation…

the diamond tinkled to the floor. Useless.

The night grew late, and still, Emma waited. The necklace—as Regina correctly assumed—had thankfully kept Emma feeling balanced and steady. Her knees rolled with the boat as she held the wheel, eyes front.

But dammit, Emma missed her. Where was she?

She reached up to fiddle with the charm, wanting to touch it – knowing, feeling it an extension of Regina herself.

"What the hell?" Emma started, her fingers expecting gentle filigree and finding a rough hewn circle of warm brass.

Before she had time to investigate, Rumple oozed up the steps and slithered around the perimeter, saying nothing, though periodically fixing Emma with a smarmy glare. Eventually, he stopped lurking, pulled a dagger from his boot, and held the blade aloft. Emma stood straighter as the dagger caught the glint of the moon. When Rumple moved the blade, infinitesimally, the moonlight seemed to bounce from the blade outward, and the sky lit up.

"Fuck me." Emma said under her breath.

Rumble had just exploded a star.

"Shit." Rumple muttered as he stalked back below. As he descended the steps, he spoke over his shoulder. "Don't look at me, Swan. Everything in every land worked better without you in the mix."

In the end, it was her mother that came to relieve her. Hook was still asleep, David's back was officially out, and Regina?

"She wasn't feeling well. She asked me to come relieve you."

Emma grew instantly worried, "What do you mean she's not feeling well?"

"I'm not sure what it was." Snow guessed, "Seasick, maybe? She went to her cabin and asked to be alone—and for me to come up here to you as soon as I could."

Emma was suddenly suspicious. That knot that formed in her stomach when something was out of whack was poking her for attention. Something about this whole 'trip' was starting to feel… manufactured somehow. Fake. She was feeling played, but she didn't know how. Why. "Where's Gold at?"

Snow thought for a moment, before realizing, "I don't know." She touched Emma gently at her elbow. "Oh, don't look so worried, honey. You've been up here for hours. Go get some rest. Things will look better in the morning."

"What about you?" Emma asked.

"Oh, I'll be fine." Snow nodded, assuring herself as much as hoping to assure Emma.

"I'll be back up in three hours, Mom." Emma smiled at her and went below.

Outside Regina's cabin, Emma stared at the door. She wanted to go in. She wanted to see how Regina was feeling. She wanted to take care of her and touch her head and hold her. She wanted to steady her. Her fingers hovered at the latch. Tapped it with a single finger. Tried to still her heartbeat so that she could hear through the wood into the room, hear any sound, hear Regina's breath.

Emma stepped back and took three steps towards her own room.

Before reversing course, quietly turning the latch, and slipping into Regina's cabin.

The lone candle threw soft, spare light on Regina. She was lying in her cot, her body moving restlessly, knees bending and straightening awkwardly, obviously extremely uncomfortable. Wisps of black hair clung to the sweat on her forehead. Lying on her back, Regina's fingers clenched and pressed at her stomach. Tears slid from under her lashes and her jaw clenched in painful determination.

It shook Emma to her core to see that Regina, in such distress, made not a sound.

"Regina?!" Emma hushed out, hands reaching, long strides eating up the distance between them. In no time, she was sitting at Regina's side, Emma's now shaking hands sweeping dark wet hair from blessedly cool skin. "Regina? Honey?" And Emma felt the body next to her—miraculously—release its tension, relax, stop all fighting. Regina grew still.

Regina's eyelids opened wide and she looked at Emma with a gaze of delight. Delight and gratitude that deepened yet further the rich brown of Regina's gaze. A broad smile lit Regina's face. Every sign of suffering had been wiped from Regina's form. The change was so abrupt, so pronounced in fact, that Emma blinked in surprise and sat in silence, her hands still on Regina's face, shaking now not from concern, but from confusion.

"Emma," Regina husked with a voice raw with thanks. Emma tried to see if, in the dull light of the cabin, had her eyes deceived her? Had Regina been well all along? Was she still ill? What was happening? "There you are." Regina whispered with a kind of reverence.

Emma could only squeak in confusion, shake her head, as she began to move her hands over Regina's body to make sense of it all. Fingers brushed gently over that incomparable face, Regina's neck, her shoulders, arms. Everything felt good, felt right, felt… good.

"I…" Emma tried, but shut up when Regina laid a warm finger against her lips.

"Shhh." Regina was smiling. She was still smiling. "Really, Emma. Shhhhh." And she was leaning. Regina was leaning up and taking Emma's face in her hands, and threading her fingers into long locks and drawing Emma in.

There are kisses that make us feel at ease. Others that assure us of our import to another. Some are there out of habit. Some occur in the blink of an eye, not meant to last. Some kisses take our breath away, while others, like this one, bring us to life.

Emma first felt Regina's breath, feather soft, glancing off her lips. She thought she should shut her eyes, but was loath to look away from the shocking beauty before her. When the next thing she felt was Regina's wet tongue dragging over her lower lip, Emma breathed out in a rush and her eyes closed all on their own. Full lips pulled at her top lip and Regina's tongue followed and lightning bolts shot through Emma as she felt herself answering and opening, everywhere, ready to receive everything.

She groaned and her belly spun and pressed when Regina broke their kiss, and brought a damp mouth up the side of her cheek and around to the lobe of her ear and breathed, "There you are."

The rasp of Regina's voice, growling with seduction and something that sounded a lot like being cherished, melted whatever stoic defenses Emma had been naively trying to marshal until she could really understand that Regina was completely well. Her ear was being nibbled and warm breath tickled and made her shiver and shift, moisture flooding between her legs. She felt Regina moving off, and Emma's hands scrambled to support her, not wanting to drop Regina back to the cot in her shock of desire, not wanting her to move a hairsbreadth away.

Regina brought a small hand between them, pushed back on Emma's chest, and those dark eyes, smoky with longing and need met Emma's in the dim, flickering light. "Don't leave me again," she urged.

And Emma understood, and she hoped that her bright eyes spoke the words her mind couldn't articulate, and she closed the distance and kissed Regina. She kissed Regina. Kissed and kissed and kissed her with all the fire they had spent their entire relationship kindling, with all the power that their magic had invoked. Emma pressed her back onto the cot, moved to straddle Regina, to wind their limbs together, felt a knee slip between shaky legs and she sighed, low and dangerous. Lips and tongues met in endless bouts of adoration and Regina's hands touched bare skin at her back, the room was heating and the candlelight was flickering as everything in the room grew heavy with urgency.

Gasping, Regina separated herself but Emma was close behind.

Seeing bare skin, Emma dropped her lips to Regina's chest, and when she heard the guttural moan that fell from the woman below her, the square-jawed, stalwart Sheriff nearly sobbed with happiness. Nothing had ever felt like this. No one. No one else ever would. This was right. Emma was absolutely sure—something she never ever was. But now. This Regina. Yes.

Emma raised herself up, the grin on her face as bright as a star, hoping to connect with Regina, to convey to her this incredible sense of surety and absolute commitment, contentment that was flooding her, and their eyes met and they locked and then…

Regina's eyes traveled down, to where the necklace hung from Emma's neck, the brass circle, lit by the light of that single candle, dangling between their bodies.

Regina's eyes grew round. And horrified. Dark, frightened eyes flashed up to Emma whose smile was falling as she registered this new change in Regina.

Suddenly Regina was hitting her, closed fits beating against Emma's chest, at her shoulders, pushing her, glancing off her face, panicked and desperate and terrified.

"Who are you?! Get off me!" Regina screamed.

Emma hurled herself backwards and landed hard against the cabin door.

"Emma! EMMA!" Regina was calling to her, to Emma, for help, as the Savior herself stood before her, quaking in confusion as the last waves of earnest love and charged desire slid from her helpless form.