Day 2: Travel.

Thanks Chris for making sense of my works and my spanglish words

You don't really like talking to the people who sit next to you, which is why you use your frequent flyer card to get in first and then feign to be asleep throughout the whole flight. It's not that you're an asocial person or something like that. You just find the conversation unnatural. It would never happen if you weren't stuck together for six hours.

God, you hated going home. Damn David and his stupid insistence of doing everything by the book and getting married in church with a proper reception.

You feel someone sitting besides you. The person doesn't stop fidgeting, and by the amount of movement they make, you are sure it's not an adult.

"Mom, can I please sit in the aisle seat? You know I hate the middle seat," a timid voice says and you give him eight years tops.

"Henry, we already talked about this," someone, probably his mother, answers, "Remember what happened last time you sat next to the aisle?"

"That was not my fault!" Henry answers and you can feel him fidgeting a little more; he probably crossed his arms.

"Yes, it was," the mother corrects him, but she's not scolding him.

"This trip already sucks."

And you don't know what possesses you to say what you say next, but you open your eyes and you look at the boy and say, "Would you like to sit in the window seat?" you ask.

You can't regret it, though. Not when the boy's face light up like a Christmas tree. He turns around to ask his mother, barely containing the emotion, if he could and how he'd be good and behave at the wedding. "I could just please, please, please sit at the window, mom!"

She lets him switch places with you, and you offer her to sit in the middle seat. But, she says that she'd rather stay by the aisle if you don't mind. And you don't. Because the only thing that currently matter to you are those two brown eyes and the little scar above her lips.

She eventually tells you her name. It's Regina. It sounds familiar but you don't know why. You do know Regina means queen, though. It suits her. She could be your queen. And oh, my god, you sound as pathetic as Mary Margaret and David.

"So," you ask as the flight attendant serves the food, "Why are you and Henry going to Maine?"

"My step-sister is getting married. I haven't seen her in five years, so I guess it was fair to attend," Regina answers. "What about you?"

"Same, actually," you say with food in your mouth and when Regina arches an eyebrow, silently scolding you, you swallow before continuing, "My brother is getting married, and I'm the maid of honor because my sister-to-be's sister is being an asshole."

"Language!"

"Sorry," you smile apologetically, you're not even dating her and you're already whipped, "But she decided not to be her sister's maid of honor. Who does that? It's your sister's wedding for God's sake! So, now I'm stuck with Mary Margaret and her stupid pastel pink dress all because her sister Reg..."

You trail off because, suddenly, something has clicked in your mind. Regina seems to notice it as well because she's wearing a smug smile on her face. You groan and hide your face in your hands, as if that would make you disappear.

"Do go on and tell me about this horrible woman," Regina teases you.

"Can you please not?"

"But, we were getting to the good part. And, what was that about the pastel pink dress?"

You decide to ignore her and you turn your body to Henry, who has finished his meal and is looking out of the window. He seems deep into his thought and you wonder if you should interrupt. You've never been with kids before. And even though everyone says you're an overgrown child, it doesn't give you experience to know how to deal with actual children.

"Why can't we see the stars?" Henry eventually asks you, "We are in the sky, but there are no stars."

"It's because of the air pollution and the airplane's lights," you know the answer because you know random things, "It's like, when you are inside your house with the lights on and you try to see outside."

"So, if they'd turn the lights off, I'd see the stars?"

You look out the window and see the city lights below you, "Sure, if you get to turn every light in Detroit."

For some reason, Henry giggles. And, it makes you feel proud of your comment, even though you meant it to be a sarcastic one and less like a joke.

The pilot announces that the landing is about to start and that everyone should fasten their seatbelt.

"You know, you won't be able to ignore me forever, Em-ma," Regina says as the plane descends, "Mary Margaret and David are probably picking us together and that's a long trip from Augusta to Storybrooke."

And you curse internally, but you smile, because there are worse things than being stuck with Regina Mills as a travel companion.