For five minutes Emma watched as Regina and Graham fucked. Before, it hadn't been pornographic. Seeing Regina so close had been intimate. A private show for Emma. This was obscene. No, not even that. People could be obscene. Not slabs of meat coming together, groaning, grunting, sweating, biology at work far more than personalities or lusts. She couldn't even call it fucking. It was coupling.

They finished and Regina sent him on his way. He didn't even look at Emma. Regina laid there, asked Emma to fetch her a cigarette from the nightstand, and Emma gave her one. Lit it. There was something wrong about the sight of her—there'd been a sensual aspect to her when she'd masturbated, something Emma hadn't even admitted was seductive until she'd seen her with Graham, as passionless as someone eating ramen noodles. It was like a painting that'd messed up the perspective, employed the wrong colors, done something wrong they teach you to do right on the first day of art school. It should've been sexy, seeing Regina in dishabille, smoking a cigarette, freshly fucked. It just wasn't.

"Sex magic?" Emma asked at last.

Regina blew out a pall of smoke. "Yes."

"And what'd that accomplish?"

Regina held out her hand. "Here. I'll show you."

Emma hesitated a moment, but—yes. She wanted to know.

She bowed her head, Regina touched her forehead, and she felt—nothing. The disgust and pity she'd felt for Regina retreated like an old memory. It was almost like a good buzz, everything receding away, numbness wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Yet she could see, very clearly. She could think, she could remember, she could plan. It was just that no feelings could penetrate where she was. She thought of giving birth to Henry, giving him up, reuniting with him—it was all the same. Like she was watching a stranger's home movies. There was nothing in her. She'd been emptied out.

Emma pulled away from Regina and the world pressed back in. She welcomed the well of emotions she fell into, the usual morass of feelings she had to put aside to function. It was better than being someone else. Or no one at all.

"What was that?" Emma asked. "It felt like I was walking on the bottom of the ocean."

"Peaceful, no?" Regina replied in kind. "A little spell to keep me from being as pathetic as your mother. She relies on a sort of Pollyanna ignorance to keep going. I myself prefer to simply cut away thoughts that would drag me down."

"It's an antidepressant?"

"I'm not depressed," Regina corrected curtly. "I am simply weighted down by any number of abominable things you and your clan have done to me. How I deal with them is my business?"

"How did you even talk to Henry—"

"I didn't need it when Henry was mine." Again, curt. Too curt. "Leave me. You've been punished enough and you've had your lesson. I should sleep." She smiled. "Sex magic makes it very easy to sleep."

Emma got up from the bed. It wasn't until she'd left that she remembered Mary-Margaret's heart. No. She couldn't deal with that now. Not when Graham was there.

She found him in the kitchen, making fresh roast coffee. The look he gave her told her it was for Regina. Still, he gave her a cup to go with the one he'd made himself.

"I thought you were dead," she said, so quietly. Like she was still under Regina's spell.

"Do you want an explanation or an apology?"

"Both."

"Of course I'm sorry. But it's not like I had a choice. Have a choice."

"So explain."

He sat down. He'd dressed in worn jeans, simple flannel, and she would've found him attractive if she could stop thinking of what he looked like having sex. If you could call it that.

Graham floundered for a minute, trying to put something big into things as small as words. Emma knew the feeling. Saw him give up. "You read the storybook? You know about the Huntsman?"

She nodded.

"Regina made me her slave. I was given the honor of assisting her butcher in preparing her feasts. She always did have a dark sense of humor. Still, I'd broken a deal with her, and in the Enchanted Forest… she could've done much worse. And cows, chickens, I didn't mind killing them. Any more than I did people. I wasn't a good man, Emma."

"Could've fooled me," Emma replied.

"Thought I did."

He drank. Emma drank. It was good coffee. But it seemed like he'd had a lot of time to learn how to make it.

He went on. "One day, I heard that poachers were decimating the wolf packs. Killing them for their pelts, not even their meat, and massacring them. I asked Regina to let me put it a stop to it and she told me she would do more than that. She would make it illegal to kill a wolf in her kingdom, if I only… I don't think Regina would trust a lover she couldn't control, but she also wouldn't simply order me to be hers. I felt sorry for her, more than anything else. Such a beautiful woman, but she would never let anyone in without a knife to her throat. When she brought me to Storybrooke, I was actually happy. I didn't know any better. I thought I was in love with her. I thought she loved me. Then the spell started to break down and I remembered just enough to ruin things."

"Sorry about that," Emma said sarcastically. "Graham, I watched you die."

"She had my heart. She stopped it. Then she started it again. I woke up here, remembering our bargain. You see, the Curse took the people from the Enchanted Forest. It left the animals alone. The wolves, the deer, they're all alright. Better, now that they're not being hunted for sport or caught in traps. Even in Storybrooke, there's no hunting allowed."

"Regina joined PETA, so you're her bitch. Great."

"It's not a bad life here. I've never liked people much anyway. I have my dogs, I have the forest…"

"You never miss Archie, or Ruby, or Mary-Margaret… anyone?"

"Of course I do!" His voice was short. "But one thing living with Regina will teach you is that you don't always get everything you want."

"Would you leave," Emma insisted, "if you could?"

Graham looked away. "She wasn't always like this. Before, she was almost… human. She'd come here and just… She brought me books. We'd read in the same room. Or we'd eat dinner together. Go for a walk through the woods. We barely touched. I think she just liked having someone who was hers. But the last few weeks…"

"Her mother died," Emma explained.

"Her mother came back," Graham corrected. "That's when it started. We talked about a lot of things here, but never about her. Not hard to guess why. You know, sometimes animals will kill another male's spawn to ensure their own lineage survives. But they don't hurt their own."

"Emma," Regina called from the bedroom. "I can't sleep. Let's get you back."

Emma ignored her. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked Graham.

"I may be hers, but she tends to take very good care of her possessions. It's the people she doesn't own I worry about."

"That's why I'm here," Emma said. "So she won't hurt anyone else."

"I didn't say I was worried about her hurting them."

The car ride back was long, awkward, uncomfortable. Exactly what Regina had wanted. Until Emma realized what Regina was so afraid. Or maybe just what she'd been so hesitant to admit.

"How often do you use that spell?" she asked.

"As often as I need to. I would hate to wallow in self-pity like you people do every time something doesn't go my way."

Emma ran her hands over her face. She was tired of trying to figure out Regina Mills. She wanted to, but not today. Today, just… let her be the Evil Queen. "Give me the heart back."

"Hmm?"

Emma looked at her, with that coy half-smile on her face. Such a lie. How could she enjoy everything with the magic evening her out? "My mother's heart. You said—"

"I said if you learned your lesson you could have it back. That was punishment. You don't get a reward for taking your punishment."

"I learned about sex magic," Emma replied. "That should count. And if I'm your apprentice, you should give me some courtesy."

"Why? Gold never gave me any."

"So you're the same as Gold?"

Regina looked at her so fiercely that Emma was frightened she would crash the car, just to hurt Emma. "You really have no idea how generous I'm being with you? A little magic blindfold, a little chipping away at your pride, and you think you're a martyr. You want it? What's the magic word?"

"Regina, watch the road—"

Regina sped up. "The magic word, Emma! What is it?"

"Please! Please give me Mary-Margaret's heart, alright!?"

Regina slammed down on the brakes and the car twisted around on the road, coming to a stop right across the lane dividers. Regina reached over and opened the glove compartment. A blood-red glow flowed out onto Emma.

"Take it."

"It was in there—" Emma grabbed the heart up, holding it to her chest protectively. "You—thanks. Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." Regina stepped on the gas again. "It's not like I've put it back in."

Emma blinked. "I'll… I'll take care of it."

"Yes. How complicated could it be?"

"I'll ask the Blue Fairy for help."

"With dark magic? Good luck."

"Rumpelstiltskin."

"Oh, because he's so thankful Mary-Margaret saved him? He won't interfere in our business, not when his son's in town. He barely got a reprieve last time, and he knows better than anyone what I'm capable of."

Emma bit her lip. She could've growled. "Teach me how to put it back. Please."

"In time."

Emma mouthed an ugly word. Regina's smile widened. Apparently even the sex magic's tranquilization couldn't keep her from enjoying that.