A/N: So hey here's another new story. It takes place during the Missing Year in my one-shot verse The Littlest Outlaw, which is not necessary to read this before but can be helpful. Should be two or three chapters, we'll see how it goes. Just a challenge story I got from a reader and this is the result. (And for everyone wondering where my other stories went, there is a link on my profile page to my website where you can find them.) Big thanks as always to Jacqueline, beta extraordinaire!

It all begins with a simple trip into the forest. A small hunting party consisting of himself, the Queen, the Prince, and two of his men, Tuck and Magnus, were undertaking a mission to find a type of ivy. It had a highly poisonous magical properties that both the Queen and the Blue Fairy felt could be used against the Wicked Witch. The Queen decided to lead party herself. She'd been met with resistance, both on his part and from the Princess Snow, but the Queen would hear nothing of it. She'd gotten her way, and with a reluctant sigh, Robin prepared himself for their journey ahead.

A day into their journey all he wants is a moment of peace and a drink. The forest is hot and humid, and as he wipes the sweat from his brow, he chances a glance back at her. She's silent. Irritated, he thinks, and he smirks, looking back ahead. She has been in a mood ever since Magnus decided to ask Tuck advice about a woman, and they talk in not so muted tones for two hours until finally the Queen calls for a halt in conversation, and in their search. Robin watches as she dismounts and stalks away by herself out into the densely packed trees.

Robin shares a look with the Prince, and he gives the man a nod. It's a silent communication passing between them, one they've developed during their time together whenever it involved protecting the Queen, and now, the Prince knows Robin will be following behind her. Keeping her safe.

He keeps his distance, makes sure to give her her privacy, her space. He wanders over to a small spring, sighing in relief, and taking his canteen from where it's been tied to his side, and fills it just enough to get a good long drink. The water is ice cold, and it surprises him pleasantly. For such a hot day, he had not expected it to be so cold. It's a relief and incredibly refreshing. It has him craving more, so that he fills it again for another drink and once that's done, he fills it to the brim.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Robin stands and turns too quickly. She's close, much too close, and he grabs her by the shoulders, then they stumble backwards and he almost knocks them down in the process. "Your Majesty, I - " A red flush spreads over his features. For a moment her nearness nearly overwhelms him, then she bites out a Get your hands off me!, and it's then he manages to regain his equilibrium. "I was just getting a drink."

"Why are you following me?" He is about ready to argue, but apparently she doesn't feel up to a fight because she shakes her head, sighs, and says, "We need to get back." She snatches the canteen from his hand and takes a drink for herself. Robin watches as her eyes close, and a drop of water slips from the side of the canteen, and runs from her mouth, traveling down, down her long, slim neck and begins a path down her chest. He finds he cannot look away from its path, and then a vague feeling of dizziness settles in him.

She finishes and then his canteen is pushed roughly back into his hands. "I suppose you do have your uses."

With that she leaves him standing there staring after her. He gives himself a moment, to admire the view. She's shed her riding jacket, and he takes in the sight of her lovely backside as she walks away from him. Robin heaves a heavy sigh, perhaps one day, he thinks, and shaking his head, he tries to turn his thoughts back to the matter of the ivy plant.

The incident with the Queen has faded to the back of his mind by the time they'd stopped a short while earlier, and are now shuffling their way down a steep rocky hill. It is exhilarating for a few minutes, until a branch gives way, and Tuck unceremoniously tumbles to the bottom of a ravine, breaking his arm. The Queen is severely annoyed, and in her ire orders Magnus and Tuck back up the hill, to see to his injuries and wait for them. Shrugging off her anger, they press onward.

"Regina, slow down." The Prince jogs up beside her.

"Can't you and the thief keep up?" she snaps, looks back to find Robin a good twenty paces behind. It annoys her that he isn't as fit as he appears. All those muscles might be damn attractive, but they aren't much use on a man who can't handle a bit of a stroll through the forest. Castle life has made him soft, she thinks, and snorts to herself ruefully.

"Are you feeling alright, Regina?"

She scoffs with a sideways look at Charming. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You look a little flushed."

He's right; she's been feeling uncommonly warm these last few minutes, and knows she can't blame it on the weather (which is somewhat nippy), or her level of fitness. Back in Storybrooke she'd always maintained her exercise regimen, and even with the clothes from the Enchanted Forest (which she'd simplified for the trip-the pretense of the Evil Queen and her wardrobe was too heavy and ostentatious, had always been, she had to admit, and she was not going to cater to that anymore), she knows she should not feel this hot. But she is not about to give him the satisfaction of admitting he might have a point.

"I'm fine. If I were you I'd worry about the one who can't seem to keep up." With that, she picks up her pace, leaving Charming standing to wait for Robin.

The Prince has been eying him for several minutes now, starting to say things and abruptly cutting off, and it is annoying Robin to no end. Finally he stops and folds his arms, and levels a look at the man. "What is it?"

"Do I need to worry about you, too?"

"Pardon?" An arched eyebrow expresses Robin's surprise at what was needling Charming.

"You look as bad as the Queen if not worse."

"It's nothing, It's just a bit hot out here."

The Prince's brow furrowed. "Huh, I thought it's gotten quite cool since the sun went down."

Robin blows out a heavy breath and wipes his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. How could the man think it was cool? He was bloody warm, and he starts to say as much but catches himself, and gives the Prince a once over and indeed, the man was now wearing his cloak looking completely comfortable and gazing at him in concern. He feels a bit out of sorts for sure, hot, intermittently dizzy and not quite himself. "I'm sure it's nothing…"

"Are you two going to stand around talking all day or can we get on with this?" The Queen's voice cuts through the air sharply, and Robin catches a note in there he hasn't heard before. It is unsettling, and he can't quite say why.

"We're coming," the Prince replies, and Robin sighs and follows him along the path.

The following morning it's early morning yet, and a breeze that blows through the forest should be a Godsend. Should make this heat he's feeling abate, if not feel like an outright relief, but it isn't. His skin still feels hot, sweat still drips from his brow and down his back as he follows behind the Queen. She's huffing her way through the thick trees and foliage, he can't really complain of her quick pace, even as out of breath as he is because it's giving his mind a reprieve from his other thoughts. Thoughts that involve running his fingers through the long dark locks which are now beginning to fall from the updo of a certain Queen. Thoughts where he imagines untying that blood red corset that's been taunting him for the past two days, taking handfulls of that leather clad arse hoisting her up against him and… A sudden cry of pain, snaps Robin from his fantasies, and he rushes forward.

Regina has stopped not far ahead and is cradling her hand. He doesn't think about what he's doing before he reaches for her attempting to make out the damage. "What happened?"

As his hand makes contact with hers, she hisses pulling it back from his grasp. "It's just a scratch."

Scratch or not, he can tell she's exhausted, her chest rising and falling with every labored breath, and he suggests, "Your Majesty, maybe we should rest for a while?"

His concern for her earns him a roll of her eyes, and he bites his tongue as she replies, "We've already wasted enough time."

"Regina, something is amiss here, and we both know it."

"Oh?" she taunts. "And what exactly is that?"

"You're far too flushed to account for the walking we've done," Robin says, coming up in front of Regina and peering at her in the early morning light. Her night had been restless, full of strange dreams, and in spite of the chilly evening, she'd thrown off her blanket and kept only her light traveling cloak over her. She'd splashed her face with water from the nearby stream upon waking, but apparently it had done little good, if the concern in his voice is any indication. His eyes roam her face, and she tries to hold herself still and will her skin to cool down. His hand reaches for her forehead.

She starts forming a retort in her mind, but then his hand touches her face and she stills as her body reacts to the contact. The irritation she feels at his all too common rescuer routine is chased away by the electric caress of his fingers.

The slightly rough feel of his hand sends her pulse racing as everything but this connection between them fades away. His voice barely penetrates the fog that surrounds her mind.

"Regina, you're burning up." He presses his palm against her forehead, and his frown deepens, as if he doesn't appear happy with the results. He turns, calls out. "We need to return, the Queen is burning with fever."

Once his hand leaves her face, the ivy they've been in search of returns to her mind, and she tries to concentrate on finding it once again. She scoffs at Robin and pushes off her overwhelming attraction to him and starts to walk once again, in spite of Robin pulling Charming into a quiet but intense conversation.

Still, it's hard to ignore the rising ache deep within her, or the way her clothing sticks to her skin. All of her clothing feels too restrictive, the very air seems too thick to take a full breath.

A movement draws her gaze to Robin as he talks in hushed tones with Charming. She licks her lips, and moves further away from the pair. She needs to get away from him, she thinks because right now everything about him has her on edge. Regina bites back a groan. He's arguing the the Charming idiot, and damn her if she doesn't love his voice, loves the look of him in his element, the scruff of his face, his strong jaw, and the determination in those stormy blue eyes. Glancing back, she can make out the muscles in his back as he faces away from her. So often she has she longed to rub those broad shoulders; they were tense now, she can see, and his shirt, she finally notices, sticks to his skin in the same way hers does. From somewhere a voice in her mind whispers, "Wouldn't it be so nice to massage the tension away and kiss his hot skin..."

Regina shakes herself away from such a tempting fantasy, it's certainly not the first time she's had to do so, and with one more look in his direction, she turns and stalks further down the path. Not more than a quarter of a mile later, she stops suddenly, and off to the right she spots it. A cave where there is no mountain, in the midst of the eastern forest where legend says the poisonous ivy is said to grow. A smile pulls at her lips and she turns onto the path that leads down to the cavern.

When Robin finally tracks her down at the cave, she is unaccountably annoyed. Yes, the two men really should trust that she is able to take care of herself, but the flare of anger surprises her with its intensity when he practically barks, "What are you doing?"

She scowls at him and folds her arms.

"What do you think I'm doing, sightseeing? I found the cave we were looking for, and it looks like the ivy is also in there." And it is quite a bit cooler inside, she has noticed. She feels that her shirt is sticking to her, again. Why was she so hot?

Robin steps towards her, his jaw tight.

"You shouldn't go somewhere without telling us where you're going!" he nearly growls, his arms down at his sides but his hands in tight fists. Regina blinks; she's never seen him like this towards her. But then his anger kicks hers even higher.

"You are not my keeper, thief! I am perfectly capable of going to a cave on my own! Don't you think I can handle anything I would find here?" She is sorely tempted to conjure a fireball in her palm.

"You don't know for sure what things are here anymore. You've been gone for thirty years!" He steps closer yet, his blue eyes like flames. "Despite what you might think, you're not invincible, Regina!"

She grits her teeth and takes a step, almost toe to toe with him now, fury radiating off her in waves.

"How dare you assume that you have any right-"

Suddenly she is yanked back by the Prince, who exclaims, "Whoa, what is going on here! You two look like you're about to start throwing punches! Regina?"

She blinks rapidly, disoriented, and the heat soars even higher. She is stunned to realize that Charming is right, that she was on the verge of slamming a fist into Robin, and the fact that she is thinking of punching him, of physically battling him, when she is more than capable and much more experienced with magical solutions, makes her shake her head. Her eyes widen as something occurs her her, and she gasps loudly, drawing the attention of both the men.

"Regina?" Charming's voice breaks into her thoughts, and she looks up at his concerned face.

"I think I know what it is, David. The heat, the feelings of anger and..." She cuts herself off, leaving the intense attraction unsaid, and looks over at Robin. "You've been feeling that too, is that right?" She directs her question to Robin, who looks less upset but no less flushed, and he nods cautiously. She turns back to the Prince and sighs.

"There's only one thing I can think of. An Ichor spring."

Charming's eyes widen in surprise.

"A Ichor spring? Is that even possible?"

The Queen sighs again while she paces the narrow cave. "That's the only thing that makes any sense." Her eyes find Robin's then David's as she explains, "Yesterday, when you followed me, you found a spring. Robin and I both drank water, and we were the only ones that drank from it. And both of us have the symptoms. The feeling of intense heat, fever, unreasonable anger..." She turns to Robin. "It was a free standing spring?"

He rubs the back of his neck. The heat is beginning to get oppressive, downright stifling, and he pulls the back of his shirt away from his skin. "Aye, its true I didn't see a source..."

Regina snorts in disdain. "You've lived in these forests for how long, thief?"

"I'll admit that I could have been more observant, but how was I supposed to know…"

"You're supposed to think!"

"Well, I'm sorry I'm not well versed in every single thing magical, Your Majesty!"

"Why you…"

"Enough!" Charming calls out, stepping between them before they could continue where they left off before he found them. "Arguing between yourselves is going no good. We need to focus and find a way to fix this." He turns to the Queen.. "Now, Regina maybe it would be best if we went back to camp, get the horses..."

Regina is shaking her head looking very, if there is a word for it, Robin would say, distressed. He knows he's heard of this Ichor fever, but somehow the cure escapes him.

"It's no use. Robin and I will never make the ride back."

His head jerks up at this and he looks between the Prince and the Queen. Both seem to know more about this fever than he. "And why won't we? Is there no cure?" Regina turns away from them with a growl of impatience, and Robin looks over at the Prince. His jaw clenches, and he demands, "Tell me."

Charming takes a breath, looks back over at the Queen, but she still is looking away from them both. He sighs and begins. "As the tales go, men that drink from an Ichor spring become consumed with fever. They call it fever of the Gods, because only the Gods could withstand the power of the dragon blood that fuels an Ichor spring." Charming notes the surprise on Robin's face and nods. "Yes, the wellspring of the water comes up through ground that is soaked in heartsblood of a dragon. Once consumed, the water of an Ichor spring makes the person infected so aggressive that the only cure is to fight or…"

The Prince's voice trails off as he looks back over his shoulder, and Robin follows his line of sight to the Queen, who appears to not be listening. However, Robin can see the tension in her shoulders and the tightness of her lips, and knows that she hears every word. Then suddenly he remembers the tales, ones told by Will Scarlet and some of his men around camp fires, and he swallows hard. Charming continues, lowering his voice even more, and voices Robin's fears. " Or to mate."

Robin swallows hard, and the Queen turns back to them with a sigh.

"David," she says, low and tight. The Prince goes to her, and she throws a quick glance Robin's way before continuing. "In my supply room at the castle, there's a packet of herbs. It's been enchanted; it should be able to put us in a deep sleep long enough for Blue to try and get the Ichor to move through our systems. It's the only thing that might help." She describes the packet to Charming, what it looks like and where it is, and the Prince nods, heading out towards his horse at a run. Robin watches him go and turns back to ask the Queen something. His eyes dart around. She is not there.

A while ago he had been looking for a simple plant, and now… now the Queen is gone. He moves away from the mouth of the cave, turning his back on the departing Prince in search for her. A hundred possibilities taunt him. If she is in the same state of mind as he, she isn't thinking clearly, and anything can happen to her in this dark cavern. He races along the path without realizing that he is holding his breath until he spots her, and the air escapes from his lungs in a rush. She barely throws him a glance as she peruses the ground.

"Your Majesty, there must be another way. Some potion or spell you can try now?" The familiar urge to pull her into his arms barely registers as he automatically pushes it away.

Her laugh is mechanical and borders on hysteric, and she mocks, "A potion? A spell? Do you think if it were as simple as that I wouldn't have done it by now?" She turns away from him, and to his astonishment, continues to look around for the ivy.

He walks over to her. "The ivy can wait. We need to figure out what we are to do." She continues to walk along, scanning the walls of the cave, ignoring him. He takes a breath, and reaches for her. "Regina." He takes a hold of her arm. "Please, talk to me."

She sways towards him. Her breath quickens and her hand makes its way slowly through the air between them to land on his chest. "There is only two ways to cure this, Robin," she says, in a low voice. "What I sent David to get is not a cure-it's a postponement, and then only if he gets back in time." She shakes her head. "He already told you the cure."

"Let's just sit down and think about this for a moment," he suggests, because thinking about the cure does things to him, and with her hand on his chest, her close proximity, he doesn't trust himself not to take her in his arms and cure them both right this very moment.

He sits but she does not, and stands with her arms folded. Robin looks at her and bites back a moan. Her folded arms are pushing her soft breasts into prominence, and he feels the heat in him cycle higher. He shakes his head, he's always been attracted to the Queen, but knowing that it is the fever causing the constant thoughts of her to play out in his mind feels wrong somehow, but it's these thoughts or giving into the anger, and quite frankly, he'd rather have thoughts of his lips on her skin then the alternative.

Regina sighs, has him lifting his head to look at her when she tells him, "I honestly don't see that we can do anything else, Robin. The second type of cure is something that I'm sure we can both do and even enjoy. So… let's get to it." With a determined look on her face, she starts walking towards him, and Robin scrambles up in alarm.

"Are you out of your mind?" he asks, backing up against wall as she inches toward him.

She chuckles, a low deep chuckle that has the hair on the back of his neck standing up. "I don't understand the problem here. I've seen you look at me. Tell me you haven't thought about it, thief." She inching towards him with every word, and she pauses but a breath away before his thinks she's about to kiss him, adding, "Tell me you haven't imagined my lips on your lips," another pause as she runs her hand up his chest, where he can feel the heat of her hand though the material of his shirt. He stifles a groan when her hand continues up and up until her fingertips are tracing patterns on his neck, and her voice lowers,"My hands on your skin…"

Their foreheads meet, and Gods above, he wants her, he thinks. He has never wanted anything so much in his whole life, and his hands find purchase on her hips, his fingertips squeezing there, holding her back or himself, he isn't sure, only knows he cannot give in. He mustn't. Not here. Not now. But her smell is in his nose, and then it's her voice, soft and warm in his ear, and he feels her words as much as he hears them, "My tongue on your…"

He feels the tip of her tongue on his earlobe and he loses it. "Alright, stop!" He moves away from her, to the other side of the cave and he thinks it's still not far enough. He closes his eyes and swallows. The images shes conjured are far, far too tempting. He can feel his desire for her spiking at the very thought, and the fever already so consuming burning him even more. "Please," he begs, a whisper. He's not even sure she's heard him until he hears her let out an irritated growl.

"You know, I don't understand you. You look at me, but when it comes down to it, when your life depends on it, you won't touch me." He hears her sigh from across the room. When she speaks again her voice is low and defeated, so much so that it has him opening his eyes and turning towards her. She's looking outside where the heavens have finally opened and it is pouring rain, and she asks, "Am I so terrible, so… evil, that even you won't touch me?"

Her statement has thrown him completely. There's something in the way she says it, even you won't touch me, that makes him think there is something more to it. He knows her earlier history; the years trapped in the first curse left him with copious amounts of time on his hands, and an insatiable curiosity as to how the Evil Queen became how she was. He is well aware that most evils are made, not born, and over the years he'd gleaned the facts about a young woman made Queen to suit the fancy of a Princess. He knows what any man, King Leopold being no exception, would do with a young nubile bride, and he thinks that had much to do with her anger. Not all, no, but much, and he wonders how many times she's been desired for her beauty and nothing deeper, told that she was wanted despite her failings and not for who she really is.

Indignation rises up in him and something fierce burns inside his chest that he's sure has nothing to do with his current condition. His head shakes and he takes a step towards her and then another until he's standing right in front of her, and as he reaches her he takes her face in his hands, tilting it gently, urging her to meet his gaze. Once those lovely dark eyes are on his, he is overcome with the need to assure her, to make her know that is it not her crimes, not her past, that makes him resist, but his overwhelming love for her and his respect for how much she has changed, how hard she has worked to shed the mistakes of her past, and his understanding of her deep, abiding love for her son.

"Regina, you must know…" he pauses, can't think of a way to form the words without confessing his feelings for her. She's not ready for that, he's sure she's not, and he wants to coax her into taking a chance on him, them, not scare her away. "You are not that person anymore, and I'll never judge you for your past. Surely you know that?"

"Then why?"

"I just can't. Not like this."

"What do you mean?"

"I…" he blinks at her. He cannot lie to her, doesn't want to, but the repercussions… If she didn't feel the same it could make things very awkward for them. He takes a breath, decides to use honestly to his advantage. "You're right, Your Majesty, I have been watching you. From the moment I met you I feared you'd placed a spell upon me because I felt it here." He takes her hand and places it on his chest, where he assumes she can feel his heart pounding beneath it. "And it's not just your beauty, though you are incredibly stunning… I cannot explain it, but all I know is that you are in my thoughts always, and nothing you've ever done could ever change the way I feel about you."

Her look softens, turns curious. "How do you feel?"

"I care about you enough to not to let this, us, come to pass like this."

She makes a sound of frustration. "Don't you understand? If we don't do this we will die."

"No, the Prince will return with the antidote…"

She shakes her head. "You heard me, Robin, it's not an antidote, it's a stop-gap measure. And you and I both know even if he doesn't stop to rest it will take him another two days to go there and back."

"We'll wait…"

"We don't have two days, Robin!" She closes her eyes briefly and opens them to stare into his. "The fever will kill us both in little more than a day unless we do something."

The firmness of his muscles distracts her from the gravity of her pronouncement. She can feel the heat of his skin through the fabric of his shirt and she wants more than anything to rid him of the garment so she can slide her fingertips over his bare skin. The scent of his warm body draws her closer and closer still, and she stares up at the beautiful lower lip that he bites down on, the one that seems to invite her to nibble and taste…

"Regina," he says, attempting to lift her from the haze that surrounds her mind. "You need to listen to me."

"Robin," she replies in a breathy whisper, and she stretches up to her tiptoes to nip at his jaw.

"Regina." He catches her by her shoulders and holds her at arm's length. "We must try and fight this, just a while longer."

"I'm tired of fighting this." She steps close again, rubs the length of her body catlike against his, sliding her fingers up and into his soft hair.

His eyes close of their own volition. "The Prince will be back..."

Her breasts ache as they press against him. She can feel him hard against her stomach as she rubs herself on his thigh. She takes a nip at his neck, feeling his near-silent moan vibrate in his chest. "He won't. Not in time, and I know you're tired of fighting this too, Robin." She slides her hand down the front of his trousers and palms him. He's fully hard now, and she smiles widely as a groan spills from his lips.

"Regina." He grabs her wrist, and adds, "I… I can't."

"But I thought..." Her lips part in confusion, and she flushes deeper. So she's been wrong about how she thinks he looks at her. Her words trail off and she fights to keep her emotions from betraying her. She pushes herself away from him. So her soul mate doesn't want her. Well, she had news for him; he wasn't the only attractive man in this realm. Shame immediately washes through her. It is Robin that she wants, not some nameless other man, and now to think that he doesn't return her feelings, that he would rather them both die than to be with her when she had always been so sure that he did… the thought is killing her.

The hurt flashes in her eyes before she turns away and goes deeper into the cave. He takes after her, desperate to make her understand that it is the situation and not her, never her, that he is rejecting.

She glances back at him as he catches up. Her face is still flushed a deep crimson. He clears his throat, almost stammering as he begins. "I'm sorry. I don't mean I do not want you..."

"Save it, Robin. I don't want to hear it."

"Regina, listen to me. Neither of us are thinking clearly, and I don't want… damn. I never wished it to happen like this." Unshed tears shimmer in her eyes. He takes his hands and cups her head so his fingers can tangle in her hair. "There is nothing I want more in this life than to make love with you, Regina."

She is silent for a moment, staring up at him, conflicting emotions on her face. It was a struggle to remember that the desire in her eyes wasn't real.

"When I touch you -" Words fail him for a moment and then he begins once again. "You are my Queen. I have nothing but the greatest respect for you. You saved my son, and I care deeply for you. More than a man of my position should care for his Queen."

"Robin, I - "

"I know." The urge to kiss her lips is strong and intense, and he resists, fights the fever with all strength he possesses, and instead places his lips against her brow and mutters, "It should mean something."

This...thing...between them is becoming more and more complicated the more they continue talking, and they will need to deal with it soon, she knows that, but her body has other concerns at the moment. It wants Robin. She glances around. They are alone, in a private space, with every cell in her body -and as much as he likes to ignore it- in his body, burning with desire. All she can think of is how much she wants to kiss him. To peel his clothes from his body, to feel him deep inside her.

Right now, all of the reasons for waiting seem irrelevant. The throbbing between her legs draws her urgent attention. They stand staring into one another's eyes for a long moment. Those lips - if she just stretched up a little bit…

"Robin..." It's not fair to him, to them, but she needs him. If she could just find a way to make him understand she feels the same as he. Show him just how much she cares for him. Her thumb traces his lips, and her eyes look up to met his. "Can we just be together and figure the rest out later?"