A/N: Important to note that there are some Spanish phrases used here that will not translate (or at least translate contextually). "No tengo el chichi pa farolillos" literally translates roughly to "I don't have a pussy for small lanterns" but it means "I don't have time for this shit". And Juera (Guera in Mexican-Spanish) is Spanish slang for white (American) -girl. "Hijo de la gran puta" means "son of a giant whore" and "te doy una hostia que te visto de torero" translates to "I'll give you a slap that will dress you as a bullfighter" but basically means "I'm gonna kill/hurt/whatever you".

The holidays always brought out a special kind of stress in Regina Mills. The impending forced family time, with the added pressure of making sure her presents and behavior passed her mother's scrutiny enough to make Regina drink herself under a table. Her skin crawling at how much her mother is able to get under her skin, and she clenches her fist, letting out a sharp exhale. Yes, the holidays were certainly a straining time.

She pinches the bridge of her nose, and taps the bar counter. Ruby glances over, her dark eyes catching Regina's, and she smirks. Sauntering towards her with a bottle of scotch, "Stressed, are we?"

Regina takes a grateful sip from her newly refilled glass, raising her brows in response. "You could say that," she says as the glass hits the counter.

"Oh, come on, now. Tell mama what's got ya' down," Ruby pouts her lips out, leaning forward on the counter and leaving hardly anything to the imagination chest-wise, as she does so.

"You know I hate it when you call yourself that," she informs with another slow sip of scotch. "But if you must know, you prying wolf, it's my mother."

Ruby scrunches her nose. She turns and takes a glass from the rack, "Now I'm going to need a drink. What's the wicked woman up to now?"

The older woman sighs, toying with the gold band on her finger. "Nothing more than her usual antics, but it's the holidays and I'm still...single," and she hates how she checks over her shoulders before saying it in hushed tones. As if her lack of lover was a cardinal sin automatically marking her as a failed woman- regardless of her success as a mother or career wise.

Ruby nearly chokes on her drink, "You know I was concerned you had an actual problem, not a midlife crisis-"

"I am hardly midlife, you dog," Regina interrupts debating if throwing her drink at her favorite bartender would ax said drink being on the house.

"Honestly, Reg, it's not a big deal. You're a single-mom, and a busy woman with- well, whatever it is you do." This has both women snickering.

"I've told you-"

"Unimportant," Ruby interrupts with an exaggerated hand motion, "because it's clearly not as interesting as tending a bar."

Regina lifts her glass, "Certainly not as entertaining." She finishes it off, a lone ice cube clanking around the cup.

"No, it's not that being alone is a bad thing, except that it is to my mother. And if I show up to Christmas dinner stag she's going to have some spare somebody waiting around to seduce me and I'm afraid I know this year's top candidate far too well."

"Ah," the taller woman nods, running her fingers over the red streak of color staining her strands. "And who is this year's eligible bachelor?"

"Sidney, Sidney Glass."

"Well, he's clearly awful, the name alone," Ruby says attempting support and Regina laughs. "Do you want any more?" The younger woman asks, eyeing the woman's drained drink.

"No, I'm cut off," Regina says pushing the cup away. "However, a water would be lovely."

Ruby bobs her head, clearing away the old cup and producing a new one before filling it to the brim with water. "I guess three glasses of scotch would be a bit much for someone going home to a child."

"Exactly," Regina replies.

There's a brief moment of silence as Ruby disposes of their drinking glasses, and sees to the queue of customers that had formed during their brief conversation.

"You know, Reg, if you're really dreading having to go home solo, there's always-"

"What I'm dreading is hearing this," the dark haired woman interrupts, rubbing at her temples.

Ruby furrows her brow, hands on her hips, "You know, maybe I won't help you, then."

And shit, now she feels awful. Having gone and actually hurt her friend's- can she call her favorite bartender at the bar she regulars a friend? No matter, she's offended the woman and that wasn't her intentions.

"No, I'm sorry- go on, Ruby," she encourages.

"I was just going to say, there's always craigslist," Ruby finishes, "I see ads looking for folks to pose as dates all the time. Sometimes there are even people volunteering to pose as dates to get the free meal."

"Sounds like a great way to meet a serial killer or a felon," Regina remarks.

"Which is the deal breaker?" Ruby teases.

Regina chews on her bottom lip, pushing the glass between her hands. "Depends on if the serial killer is gonna include me and my son in his rampage, because otherwise serial killer, dysfunctional family-" she groans and presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. "That was such a terrible thing to insinuate."

Ruby is cackling, "Doesn't make it any less funny, Reg." The bartender is fiddling on Regina's phone when she glances up. "Look it's easy to put an ad out there!" The slender woman shoves the phone into her hands.

Seeking a date for the end of the world (Christmas with my family) will be fed, have decent entertainment (years of suppressed familial issues that surface with alcohol) and get to claim they're dating my hot piece of ass. Serious inquiries only.

"Ruby! I can't post this! I won't!" She argues, dropping the phone like it might bite her.

"Careful!" Ruby hisses as she gathers the phone up, "And you can and-" she presses a button, smiling triumphantly at Regina. "And now you did."

Regina groans, staring down into her glass of water. "There are no words in the English language to accurately describe how much I hate you, right now."

"You'll thank me later," Ruby assures her with a smooch of her lips in the older woman's direction.

"No tengo el chichi pa farolillos," Regina curses at her.

"Shit, I've brought out the Latina Mami, now," the girl goads and Regina has the right mind to give her more than a cookie.

"I'm going," Regina retorts, ripping her phone back from Ruby and storming away from the bar.

"Te amo, Regina," Ruby calls after her.

"Tonta juera," is all she replies, letting the bar door cling shut behind her.

Regina stops on her walk home for a smoke. She never smokes- hardly smokes- but she's been drinking and the talk of the holidays has wound her up again despite the liquor. She's standing arms crossed in the alley outside her apartment building, back to bricks, eyes closed, trying to think of why she ever quit smoking. Henry.

The puffs of smoke swirling in the cold air before her almost as intoxicating as the scotch. Maybe this wasn't as bad an idea as she thought. Maybe some lonely college student searching for a nice place and a free plate would take her up on the offer.

Or maybe a convicted felon would, Regina reminds herself as she takes another hit. Maybe a perfectly chiseled college boy would see her offer and fail horribly under mother's ask-22 of questions and expose her in the middle of Christmas dinner. Make her the laughing stock, and prove Mary Margaret the better daughter once and for all.

Mary Margaret who was already married and had a toddling son she stayed at home with. Always putting dinner on the table at five, and being ready for her husband by nine.

Come on Regina, she curses, grimacing as she rubs at her collarbones. Be reasonable.

But she can already hear her mother's snide remarks. The critique on how her physique has changed this year, and while she can assure herself with facts and figures that absolutely nothing has changed, Cora's words will warp her reflection.

Another year of reminders at how she is failing Henry by not giving him a father, and how selfish of her to continue flouncing about while he grows up with only her. As if, she's more of a curse to her son than a beneficiary.

Obviously Regina could not be enough for Henry. Henry, who she hadn't intended to raise alone when she adopted him. Henry, who had only known his father for a brief month before the universe whisked away Daniel to war- and six more months before war took him, too.

Sure, that first month dealing with the grief of losing her husband and a colicky infant that wouldn't sleep through the night had broken her worse than eighteen years beneath her mother. Pushed her to taking her son in a exhausted stupor back to the adoption agency, set on letting this child have his best chance with someone who could give him more.

Partly because her subconscious had blamed the child for somehow, someway causing Daniel's demise and the rest because of her mother's biting words, assuring her that there's no way she could survive as a single mother.

But she hadn't, the minute her hand had left the child carrier she felt the absence hit her, and she knew. Henry was her son. She had barely survived losing Daniel, there was no way she could survive losing her son.

Regina had curled her fingers triumphantly around the handle and picked him back up. Cora be damned, she was Henry's mother and now she was all he had. Henry wasn't about to lose her, too.

And after that minor breakdown, she had barely been able to forgive herself. Scheduled weekly meetings with the finest therapist she could find, and threw herself into her work. Promising Henry that she would never fail him again, like she did on that day so long ago.

And now ten years later, she had a boy so bright he went to the finest institution New York City had to offer. Surrounded by a plethora of friends and male role models, and he never once felt abandoned by her (at least to her knowledge).

But no- she, Regina Mills was still not enough for her son because she didn't have a man's arm to tote on or the title of wife.

"Geez, Mills, what did that cigarette do to you?" Neal's voice pulls her from her stupor.

Her brows scrunch in momentary confusion before she realizes her fingers were near crushing the cigarette she was hitting off of.

"Ah, nothing yet, but I'm thinking ahead," she assures him, letting the ruined smoke burn out against the wall, and starting over to the soil patch near the back of the alley to bury it.

"Anything you wanna, wanna...uh...talk about?" Neal asks, shoving his hands in his pockets and changing his weight from the balls of his feet.

Regina is crouching over her successfully buried cigarette bud, and wipes at a pesky stray curl that fell over her eyes. "You're oddly interested in me, today, Mr. Cassidy."

"That's not true, Regina, you know I'm always interested in Henry's mother," he says in that familiar husky voice of his.

Over the years Regina had come to look at Neal as somewhat of a parenting consult. He'd been spending so much time with Henry, taking him off her hands every Saturday for their "man-time", helping assist Belle with Henry's homework, which she wasn't sure was about her son as it was about Belle. Always coming over for holidays, he'd be the perfect pick for her to couple up with, but she just- couldn't.

He was a friend and despite the countless nights she had laid awake trying to convince herself to be into him in any way for the sake of her son. She never could. She was a broken woman, if not emotionally, then surely sexually. Probably why she was still single and the opposite of sexually active (minus a brief episode with Graham during a very dark time for her) nearly ten years after the death of Daniel.

"I'm fine, just thinking," Regina confesses straightening up. "Do you think Henry's okay?"

"Did something happen? Did he say something-" Neal's voice changes to a sense of urgency, as he rushes towards her.

"No, Neal, he's fine- sorry, I'm just thinking about things Cora's said," she brushes it off. "The holiday blues."

"Regina, Henry's a great kid. I've known him since he was what- three? Four years old? He's amazing," Neal tells her and it's not anything she doesn't know but hearing reaffirmations from someone else- it's nice. "And he owes that all in part to his incredible mom."

"I know."

"Cocky, now?" Neal shakes his head. "Glad I could raise your ego back to normal."

"Always a pleasure, Neal," she says tipping an imaginary hat. "You're a great neighbor."

"I try to earn my keep with beautiful ladies, although normally when there's an unexpected kid it's a bad thing."

"Good evening, Mr. Cassidy, I have to go relieve Belle," Regina thanks him again for the kind words before ducking out of the alley and climbing up the stairs into her apartment building.

"Mom!" Henry exclaims, popping up from the couch where he had been sitting with Belle.

"Hey, buddy!" Regina drops her bag on the counter, opening her arms to accept her son. "How was your day?"

"It was so fun, Mom! We went to Bryant Park and then to- um-"

"Shhhh! Henry! Don't spoil Christmas for your Mum!" Belle interrupts, walking over to faux scold him.

Regina quirks a brow, "Ah, Christmas shopping were you?"

Henry giggles, nodding his head at her. "But no peeking! Or guessing! Or snooping! You have to wait until Christmas!"

"Well, thank goodness that's only a few days away!" She smiles complacently.

Regina presses her lips to Henry's head, centering herself on the familiar scent of him before sending him along back to his video games. "Was he okay?"

"Always is," Belle says with her usual too-cheery smile. "And I even got him to choose to quit playing his video games and read for a bit, briefly but still."

"Impressive," she commends writing the weekly check for Belle's services. "Thank you as always for all that you do and- Henry, can you go get Belle her present from under the tree?"

"Oh, Regina, you didn't have to-"

"You save my ass on the daily and watch over the most precious thing I have," she informs her nanny, "I had too."

Henry races back to the front hallway and displays the holiday themed bag. "Merry Christmas!"

"Why thank you, kind sir," Belle says, taking the bag, "A very Happy Christmas to you, as well."

"Merry Christmas, Belle!" Regina chimes in, "And thank you, not just today, but you know- for always being there for my son and for me."

"Of course. Happy Christmas," Belle waves, ducking out of the apartment and heading home. "I'll see you next year."

"Next year," she agrees.

Once Henry has been fed, bathed and tucked into bed Regina is finally alone. E! marathon of the real housewives of somewhere and a glass of wine in her hand. Her and Henry's suitcases are spread out on the floor waiting for her to work up the willpower to pack. They leave for her mother's in two days, she really should start packing.

Regina sips at the wine, momentarily debating if this qualifies her as an alcoholic since it's her third drink of the night (and then immediately discredits the thought). She's about to get up and start at the bare minimum folding clothes from the clean basket to pack when her phone pings.

New e-mail from interested party on Craigslist.

"Ruby! Hijo de la gran puta, te doy una hostia que te visto de torero!" Regina curses aloud, slamming her wine glass down as she stares at the notification.

She's about to hit ignore but Cora's voice is there, in the back of her mind. Why don't you ever think about your son? Henry needs a father, Regina. It's just selfish of you deprive him like this.

She exhales, gripping the stem of her glass and chugging the remainder of her wine before opening up the email.

Hi, um, I'm not really sure what I should put here but I'm interested and I'm not- like a serial killer or anything. The opposite kind of, I'm a- well, it doesn't really matter. I'm twenty- eight if that matters, but um. Yea, I don't really know what's driven me to respond to this, other than I mean I normally spend the holidays alone and I could use some drama in my life.

-bugsandbiceps23

Regina wasn't sure what to do now. She never thought someone would actually reply, the offer didn't even have any money attached to it. And this person- bugsandbiceps23- claimed they weren't a serial killer but isn't that exactly what a serial killer would say? And what would she say to Henry?

She could never do this without lying to her son or asking him to lie for her, and she wouldn't. Yet, here she was staring at the response, hitting respond. Regina Mills, I hope you know what you're doing.

To: bugsandbiceps23

I would love to meet up for coffee sometime to assess our personalities and talk more in person. See for myself that you're not a serial killer (or die and see that you in fact, are). Are you free to meet up sometime tomorrow?

-henrydaniel15

Regina turns her phone off after that, telling herself she'll respond in the morning when she is of more sound and sober mind. Intent on spending what little is left of the night getting one of the suitcases packed.

By the time she curls under her blankets that night, neither suitcases are packed but she's properly warm from wine and the clothes are folded on the table. Her mind still racing from whatever tomorrow's possibility of a coffee meet up has in store for her.