A/N: This two-shot can be taken into account with the other story I'm writing, The Devil's In The Details, that's still in progress or it can be read alone since it doesn't really give away the plot. I wanted to write something in AU!Fiona's perspective and being that the setting to my other story's in the present reality where the movie ends off, it was hard to do. So... here's my best shot at something other then thinly veiled crude humor I usually do. I hope you enjoy and review! Please don't hesitate to leave any comments, praise, suggestions, corrections, death threats etc. since this is my first time writing anything kinda lemony and I'd sure appreciate the help to improve my writing.

*Setting*: This takes place in the early hours the very same day (still nighttime, so she's an ogre) Shrek shows up in the alternate reality and eventually does his whole hero thing

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

***Warnings***: Angst, unhealthy love/hate relationship, flashbacks, sexual situations with ridiculously short people, um... non-consensual groping? It's not terribly graphic, if that helps. Dunno if I'll get any farther than that. It's rated M just 'cause I'm paranoid. O_o

"Are you not going into town today, Princesa?" drawled Puss's voice at the end of her bed. "It is almost daylight and I am sure you have many things to do."

"Not today, Puss," Fiona sighed as she rolled out her map of the surrounding area and flattened the curling edges. "Tonight – we're going through with it. No more stalling. We're going to end it all."

No more games.

"And then what?"

Those three simple little words held such an impact, it physically staggered her and a muted buzz seemed to fill the room with her silence. It's not like she hasn't thought about it before. Her hopes and dreams... how the sun might rise and set one day and no one would look at her twice. How the kingdom she could barely recall might be restored to it's former glory. But just like dreams – hope is unrealistic; a fairy tale. She didn't delude herself with the notion that bringing Rumpelstiltskin down will magically erase all the damage he's done. It won't give back all the years she's spent in the dragons keep. It won't bring back her parents. No one will just accept an ogre queen or stop hating her kind as a whole. The seed's already been planted long ago; grown roots and flourished under his care with the occasional sprinkle of water to keep it thriving. But since nothing will go back to the way it was before... what then?

"Princesa?"

"And then... it's over," she said with an edge in her voice that made it final. It doesn't matter what happens after. This was the only way to finish everything in one go. "We've been planning this for a long time. We've had our setbacks and it took awhile... but we're ready for this."

"I know we are ready..." Puss said, nearly breathless as pulled himself up with some effort and sat on his haunches. "but... ah ... are you ready?"

Fiona stared down hard at the map before her and not for the first time, wondered if Puss knew more about her errands during the day then he let on. Not too long ago, a panic would fill her heart at the very thought of being discovered. No one would understand... even she barely did. It was a betrayal against her kind, against everything. Just another thing to be exiled for. But now... it didn't seem to matter anymore what he thought. It's over. This is the final chapter of the whole twisted affair. The end.

"I don't know what you mean," she said evasively. "I've wanted his head on a platter ever since I came back and found out what he did to my parents. To the whole kingdom. He's getting what he deserves. I hate the man."

"I know a lot about revenge, Fiona," he replied as he scratched his belly lazily. "It was my business before I retired. But hate and revenge are two very different things..."

"They're one in the same."

"Not so. Revenge is easy; someone steps on my tail and I claw him back. It is an... eh ... exchange, yes? But hate... it takes a lot of effort to hate someone who means nothing to you."

"I need some sleep … alone ..." she sighed again and kept her eyes focused on the table, not willing to look into her confidant's eyes at being brushed off. "Tell Brogan to meet me at sundown to make sure everything's going down as planned."

"Sleep well, Princesa," and Puss slipped off her bed without complaint.

"Goodnight."

The creak of the door as it swung shut disturbed the muted silence for just a moment, before it engulfed her again. And now what? The room seemed to say to her. She'll just stay busy like she usually does, she answered back. Only two thoughts were ever on her mind: Stiltskin and the resistance. It was her heartbeat; her life. Fiona locked and barred the door, as was her habit, but no matter how hard she stared at her maps and figures... nothing made it past the traffic of thoughts that ran through her mind. Revenge. Hate. Love? It's hardly never in that order, is it? Then again, her life has never been as easy as all that. Perhaps it wasn't out of the ordinary at all. They've always seemed to blur wherever he was on her mind.

Love, however small, always strikes when one least expects it. It's like a curse in a way; all someone needs to do is say something thoughtless like, 'I hate you' to break someone wholly. It's tragic, but it's true... it's like waiting for someone to stand before striking them down again. Love seems crueler than dealing the fatal blow while they lie on the ground; defenseless and exposed. At your mercy. It's almost like the hope that raises your spirits just enough so that they might be fully dashed. Maybe that's the whole reason why he was so hateful with his love. And yet... he was so greedy with it.

She knew this. He knew this. He had even told her once that greed was what gave him purpose, for what else made perfect sense in life? There are those who have everything and yet still desire something to fill a nameless void, and there are those that were nothing but a void with many names. It's in the nature of man to endlessly strive to fill it in with their blind urgency for happiness. Nothing else mattered in the world. Nothing but his wants. Perhaps he childishly yearned to be needed and indispensable to someone. Wanted somebody to eat all of their time to give him attention. Stir the fire to his addiction or drag someone down with him... a mutual addiction.

Strange but... maybe he wanted her for reasons even he didn't know. She believed it frightened him. Threw him off, unsettled his control on everything so that hate... maybe gave him a sort of balance and she was just a counterweight. She couldn't understand it. Or maybe, she did and hoped to never say it out loud. Because in a way... she felt the same. It made perfect sense. That's how the whole grand scheme of things works after all. It's so very easy to hate, and yet it's so needlessly difficult to love. All good things are. But love... well... it's still not as simple as all that. She supposed that Love, however True, can turn indifferent with a little indulgence. It can be taken for granted... grow stale. True Love... is still just love after all. Hatred alone is unchanging. Hate can be just as giving... it can spark a passion where once was nothing at all.

Playing mind games with a manipulator brought her a cool kind of thrill where nothing in her life did before. It broke the pattern; the routine. No longer a helpless princess. Not a pitiable ogre or some wench in the streets; hiding away and hunted just the same at the end of the day. She felt a cruel kind of satisfaction to do something, just anything to rebel against him. Against the very quill that presumes to know how fairy tales should be written. Against her parents long gone – against everyone. It was her first little addiction and he was the focus of it all. Maybe even an obsession.

Their games had one unspoken rule to keep it simple at first: their secrets were always kept safe. He never exposed her curse, and she never exposed her royalty. She didn't care to rule a kingdom that didn't want her and follow the steps of the parents that once locked her away. Long ago, she used to entertain the idea of ruling her land with a good king by her side like the story goes... now ... the very thought repels her. It was simpler that way; to deny the world she once would've embraced. Now, she wouldn't care if it was fire to. It was all dead anyway; the pages curled and yellowed with the many years locked away in that decrepit tower. The ink of ever afters long faded. What mattered now as fighting it all since nothing else gave her purpose.

And then what?

And then, with that one rule... of course came another after an event that changed everything between them. That's just how it goes, doesn't it? You set rules, boundaries, and safeguards just for the sole purpose of keeping everything impersonal. The ultimate shield. For a long while, he respected it, but that didn't last. He never did play fairly, always managed to find a way to bend the rules if only to see how far it can go before it breaks. Looking back on it now, maybe they should have broken it sooner being that it was cause that ended it all.

Their exit clause.

Fiona awoke to the sound of muffled voices echoing down the stone passageway through the steel door. She shifted around in her bonds to lessen the strain and straightened her shoulders proudly... or as proud as anyone could when chained into a kneeling position. Her hands were nearly numb from falling asleep in the awkward position of having them chained behind her back, bound to her ankles like some hog. The pain didn't matter anymore, all that mattered was what came next. A part of her half expected him to show up hours ago to gloat, but the other half expected no less. Of course he would make her wait; have her spend hours in a musty cell for her anger to boil for his amusement. It's the passive aggressive sort of dick move he'd pull, but that's just her personal opinion. One thing was for certain, he had made plans on what would be carried out without him if she would ever be captured. She wasn't imprisoned in a cage for starters where her transformation would be obvious to all who'd pass, but in a cell in the dungeons. He had even went through the trouble of writing a message for her in gold, spiky script on the wall for her to see:

With love, Rumpel

The bastard.

"... elling you she's escaped!" came the harsh voice of a witch through the door. "I checked and she's gone. It's just some... some woman in there instead! How di- "

"She's crafty..." came Rumpelstiltskin's voice with a cheerful jingle of keys as they scraped through the lock one by one, testing each. "... and I've got a halfwit on guard, that's how."

"But – who's the woman?"

"Kitchen staff, maybe? The hell if I know," Despite herself, Fiona had to smile at his quick thinking and believable air. The scrape of another key with a resounding click unlocked the door as she smoothed her face into her usual look of contempt. "Lemme ah... take care of this, yeah?"

There was a mumbling reply she couldn't make out followed by a long pause before the door swung open and Rumpelstiltskin skipped through with a shit-eating grin on his face and shut the door behind him with a flourish. Judging by his clothes, he looked like he had just woken up and had dressed in a hurry; his undershirt untucked and his vest unbuttoned. If he had no idea she was down there all night, he was hiding his surprise well. His eyes swept the room, hesitating for only a second on a sparse pile of mildewed straw, before coming to a halt on her again.

"Looks familiar?" She said by way of greeting, her voice at ease despite the situation. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing just how uncomfortable she was or the chill of fear now that she's in a situation she can't get out of. "Sorry, but I'm not interested in spinning straw into gold."

"Didn't really go down like that," he chuckled for a moment, smiling as ever. It never did quite reach his eyes. "Fairy tales, eh? Ya keep that shit forever like luggage. So... how was your night?"

She wasn't going to humor him with his pleasantries this time. "I obviously found your mole."

"Oh yeah?" He smirked as he neared and she could physically feel every step he took. "I'm a bit disappointed actually... never thought I'd see the day I pulled one over on ya. Kinda makes me wish I saw you dragged in kicking and screaming again to make up for it."

Of course she did no such thing. The witches knocked her out with their poisons and he knew this. But that's just how it went between them. They'd exchange the usual pleasantries, as if they weren't two people who wanted to destroy each other, and then trade insults to see how deep the cracks ran in their flaws. Some were deserving, most weren't. And they knew this. It didn't matter just as long as it hurt. It kept the hate fresh. It fueled their little game of tag they played whenever they'd accidentally on purpose meet to gloat over their latest victory. But not anymore. The game was over. He won.

"Now what?"

His smile faded for just a moment before it hitched up again in a leer. "How 'bout... I cut ya a deal?"

He can't be serious. When it did appear however, that he wasn't going to shout 'Fooled ya!', snap his fingers and have her dragged out and hung, did she believe him. Unless he sincerely wanted to let her go... if only on his terms. That's how he always worked, of course. He pretends to graciously give people options that seem to come out in their favor whichever they choose. They don't naturally. It's only ever a choice between the lesser of two evils, both of which serve his purpose in one way or another. He puts them on the horns so they're gored wherever they turn. He's got to really be grasping at straws if he thinks she'll agree. And she won't – he knew this.

But that could only mean –

"You just don't want to get rid of me, do you?" Fiona laughed coldly, her bonds cutting into her wrists with every breath but she didn't care. He was a real screwed up piece of work. After fighting back and forth for so long and finally having her in his grasp, he wants to let her go? He's just so... so... confusing! And yet... she loves trying to figure him out when nothing else is clear. When everything else just seems so... unreal. A fairy tale.

"No," he said after a long pause, unmoved by her cruel laughter. "You're some sorta airtight fine print, Fiona..." Somehow, he had stepped closer without her notice and her senses intensified so much in the close proximity, she closed her eyes in an effort to deaden it somehow. Heat, cologne, the soft rustle of his jacket as he moved was all she knew. She couldn't bear to look at him this close.

"Can't find the loophole." She tensed under a sudden heat as his hand crept up her thigh; his fingertips writing his own personal signature and sent a slow shiver through her skin where it should have never gone. Her heart raced as a breath of hot air settled over the hollow of her throat and somewhere in the back of her mind, she was screaming at him to stop – just stop – but she couldn't form the words on her tongue. "I don't think I want to..."

Fiona opened her eyes when she could bear it no longer and caught his. "I hate you," she said instead of the screaming within her. She said it with a clarity that surprised her despite how unfocused her mind was.

His eyes smiled as if that was all the consent he needed. "I hate you more."

As soon as his hungry mouth closed over her skin with bruising contact, she knew she had truly lost this time. And he knew it. Maybe he was even lost as well. He became the one in control … and she didn't care. He became the one with all the tempting offers as his fingers raced up her bodice, stumbling over the laces as his lips grew more demanding; tracing the curve of her collarbone with his tongue. And she wanted this – needed it – despite how wrong it was. Her mind was serenely empty; no plots , no towers or delusions of True Love and ogres within princesses. Nothing mattered now but taking what they wanted from each other. Fighting each other in a new way and peeling off the layers of themselves to see new flaws and more reasons to hate.

Chains rattled as she arched her back against his touch over her skin; her top wrenched open and pulled back past her shoulders, the sleeves tangled at her wrists. His fingers raked through her hair, tangling themselves in and baring her throat. A sudden fear stabbed through her heart as his lips drew closer to her own and it was in this exact moment where the second rule was born.

"Just – just don't kiss me," she gasped in his ear.

He paused to chuckle before kissing his way to the corner of her mouth anyway as his hands hiked up her skirt . "Afraid that I might be your True Love?" He didn't give her time to come up with a threat however, before shrugging out of his jacket and undoing the buttons to his shirt, his mouth never leaving her skin before trailing down again, her lips forgotten.

"Unchain me," she demanded, it's effect slightly diminished with a moan when he assailed her chest with sharp, biting kisses. He only raised a brow in reply and continued his torture uninterrupted. Of course it's never that easy; he always has to fight everything even at a time like this. Fiona smiled; she expected no less. "One hand. You won't regret it."

And sure enough, he didn't.

A/N: So, I jumped the hurtle into the dark side of writing and did something lemony. I don't personally read much and I'd rather have it tasteful then grossly graphic so... I hope it wasn't a complete let down and not terribly OOC considering the circumstances. The next chapter will be the last in this alternate universe and basically how their whole affair ended. So... lemme know whatcha think! Thanks for reading!