As an introduction to this story, I'd like to mention that I am a huge fan of this show. The fairy tale stories really come alive in ways that consistently surprise and thrill me - and I thought it would be fun to bring the screen adaptation of the characters back to print and have my way with them...er, I mean, let my imagination run wild on them...I mean I just thought I'd have a little fun...Okay. You get the point.
Anyway, I'm writing this first chapter as a sort of parallel to the pilot episode - kind of like a storyline that might be seen as a parallel universe to the show's first episode. The story will branch off after the pilot, as I have my own plot to bring out, but definitely let me know your thoughts on it!
Please read, review, comment, and all those lovely things! This is my first addition here on FanFiction and I'm excited to see what you think. If my ideas get any traction, I'll continue writing them - and don't hesitate to throw out ideas of your own! :)
The streets are quiet except for the gentle pitter-patter of the late evening drizzle and the sound of high-heeled feet slowly stalking down the sidewalk. It's chilly, even for fall, but Regina Mills's mind is too preoccupied with other matters to even mutter one of her typical snarky comments of annoyance under her breath. The Storybrooke mayor wraps her arms tighter around herself as she slows her gait, letting out a breathy sigh as she steps off the sidewalk into the street. She stops in the middle of the crosswalk, gazing around her at the town she built almost three decades ago.
Regina's hooded, troubled eyes land on the clocktower above the library in front of her. Like always, the hands on the gloomy clock's face are still, fixed at 8:15. Normally, this sight is a reminder of Regina's revenge, her successful curse, the fact that she finally won her vendetta against those annoying, overhappy Charmings. But tonight, as the queen stares at the dark silhouettes of the buildings around her, that foreboding feeling that's been eating at her for weeks sends a deep chill right through to her core.
With a frustrated sigh, the mayor shakes her head, as if to rid herself of the disturbing feeling that has been building in her soul.
"Heh," the immaculate woman huffs at herself, returning her gaze to her feet and swiftly resuming her brooding walk through her small town. 'Right,' she thinks, scoffing inwardly. 'Because the Evil Queen has a soul. What a load of crap.'
Still, Regina can't help but frown at her reflection in the passing shop windows, her lower lip quivering just a little. If she didn't have a soul, then why did this sense of disturbance keep bringing a pang of...was it guilt? Fear? Ever since the queen had set her sights on her quest for revenge against the woman who stole her happy ending, Regina had grown accustomed to brushing off such petty emotions. And since bringing the kingdom to Storybrooke, she never anticipated that she'd ever feel anything but, well, queenly in this new world. And yet, try as she might, there's been this foreboding feeling mounting in her...soul...that something terrible was about to happen.
Stepping up the walkway to her mansion, Regina brushes her hair out of her face and fishes her keys out of her pocket. As she slides the key into the lock, a slow tickle creeps up her spine and she feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up. She turns, listening hard as though something in the air might provide a clue. But Regina hears nothing. Her brow furrows - that's very odd. She literally hears nothing. The light breeze that has been blowing all evening seems to have suddenly stopped and there isn't a single sound besides her breath, which suddenly catches in her chest and her stomach tightens. Something isn't right. Regina pushes the door open and calls out for her son, flicking on the light in the entryway as she moves toward the coat rack.
"Henry?" She calls out a little louder when she doesn't hear him respond.
Shrugging her dark pea coat off her shoulders and hanging it on its hook, Regina's eyes flit around the room. There's no sign of him. No forgotten shoes on the stairs, no backpack on the floor. The queen doesn't allow disorder in her home, but this feels different somehow. The hairs at the back of her neck haven't laid down and the tight knot in her stomach is growing. Regina makes her way swiftly up the stairs and pushes Henry's door open. The room is dark, silent, still.
"Henry. Can't you answer me when I..." Her question trails off into the darkness as her eyes adjust and she sees in the moonlight that Henry's bed is still made. She flicks the lightswitch on and steps further into the room. Her stomach bottoms out and her heart begins to race. Henry is gone.
"Obviously no, this isn't normal behavior, Sheriff, or I wouldn't have called you!" Regina spits out, crossing her arms.
Graham clears his throat, ducking his head at the stern tone in the mayor's voice. He nods to himself, jotting a few notes into his little notebook.
"Right, and...er...so you don't know where he might've gone, then?" He asks timidly, tucking his thumb into his belt.
Regina sighs, smoothing out the front of her gray dress. "He usually tucks himself in at night," she explains. "Any time I work late, he comes home and puts himself to bed. But, as I said, he wasn't home when I got back from work tonight." Regina curses inwardly at her misguided idea to appoint her boy toy as sheriff, watching the incompetence in his face as he continues to take notes.
A sound outside catches both their attention and the mayor holds her hand up to keep Graham silent. They hear it again and there's no mistaking it - the sound of a car door shutting outside. Regina runs through the dining room and through the entryway, yanking the front door open.
"Henry?" She cries out when she sees her son in the walkway. Relief floods her body and she runs down the porch toward him, pulling him into a tight hug. "Oh, are you okay?" She asks, giving him no time to answer before she pulls away, holding him by the shoulders to get a good look at him. "Where have you been?!" She stands, taking a step back and glancing briefly at the blonde woman standing a few feet away. "What happened?"
"I found my real mom!" Henry exclaims, running past her up the walkway and through the still open front door.
A stabbing pang brings that knot back to Regina's stomach and she slowly turns to finally look at the woman in front of her. She stares for a moment, shocked at her son's outburst and this sudden revelation.
"Y-you're Henry's birth mother?" Regina asks flatly.
"Hi," the woman sighs, clearly uncomfortable.
The queen is speechless, staring at this intruder. After a few moments of awkward silence, Graham pipes up. "I'll just go and check on the lad, make sure he's alright."
Regina squares her shoulders, eyeing up the woman in front of her. From her tight black jeans to her fitted red leather jacket and long blonde hair, it's clear she's not from around here. Regina's eyes flicker back up to the woman's face and as their eyes meet, the mayor feels her breath catch in her chest for a moment before she collects herself. "How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you ever tasted?" She asks in a cool voice, one of her sweet smiles gracing her lips.
"Got anything stronger?" The woman returns, quirking an eyebrow slightly.
Regina smirks in response, and turns to lead the way back into the house. "I'm Regina Mills." She quips over her shoulder as she shuts the door behind her unexpected house guest.
"Emma. Emma Swan," the blonde replies, shoving her hands into her back pockets.
Regina turns and nods at Emma, taking in her features, noticing how her long blonde hair falls so gracefully over her shoulders, wondering whether she should shake her hand. She decides against it, pursing her lips and turning on her heel to attend to drinks instead. As she walks through the entryway and into the dining room, she motions for Emma to stay there as she continues toward the kitchen to grab a couple of glasses. When she returns, she glances at the woman standing awkwardly in the doorway and moves toward the liquor cabinet by the wall.
"How did he find me?" Emma asks, gazing around the beautiful dining room.
"No idea," Regina responds, placing the glasses down and dropping an ice cube into each of them. "When I adopted him, he was only three weeks old. The records were sealed." She pauses slightly, pulling the stopper out of the liquor bottle. "I was told the birth mother didn't want any contact," she adds pointedly, a touch of her signature snark in her voice.
"You were told right." Emma says quietly.
"And the father?" Regina probes, pouring the drinks.
"There was one," the blonde responds, veiling the slightly sarcastic answer with a vague tone of disinterest in discussing the situation.
"Do I need to be worried about him?" Regina clarifies, unable to face the woman as she waits for the answer.
"Nope. He doesn't even know."
Regina smirks to herself, sensing a little discomfort in the woman's voice. She picks up the glasses and turns around, finally meeting Emma's eyes as she walks toward her.
"Do I need to be worried about you, Miss Swan?" Regina asks, holding one of the glasses out to Emma and pausing in the doorway to face her.
"Absolutely not," the blonde replies and Regina nods, feeling a strange sense of disappointment mixed with relief.
They stand there quietly for a moment and Regina searches the blonde's face. When Emma catches her looking, Regina glances down at her own drink and thumbs the rim gently.
"Madame Mayor, you can relax," Graham's voice floats down from the top of the stairs and breaks the silence. Regina looks up toward the sound of his voice, oddly relieved at the interruption. "Other than being a tired little boy, Henry's fine," Graham continues as he descends the stairs.
"Thank you, Sheriff," Regina breathes out, smiling softly at him.
Graham presses his lips together and nods, hands on his hips, before he slowly turns toward the door and lets himself out.
Regina glances toward Emma, who is leaning against the doorway somewhat awkwardly. With a slight tilt of her head, Regina starts walking toward her office. "I'm sorry he dragged you out of your life," she sighs. "I don't know what's gotten into him."
"Kid's having a rough time. It happens." Emma responds as she follows the mayor into her office.
Regina takes a slow breath as she shuts the door. "You have to understand...Ever since I became mayor, balancing things has been tricky." She moves toward the fireplace, slightly adjusting the small clock on the mantle there. "You have a job, I assume?" She asks sweetly, turning to watch Emma sit down on the elaborate sofa in the middle of the room.
"Uh - I keep busy, yeah," she replies vaguely, setting her drink down on the coffee table next to a large square bowl of red apples.
Regina nods, slowly walking back across the room, watching Emma fidgeting slightly. "Imagine having another one on top of it. That's being a single mom," the mayor smiles, setting her drink on the coffee table as well. "So I push for order," she continues, flicking her dark hair out of her eyes as she sits on the matching sofa across from Emma. "Am I strict?" Regina chuckles, adjusting her position. "I suppose. But I do it for his own good," she reasons. "I want Henry to excel in life," she continues, and then pauses, suddenly a little insecure. The smile fades slowly from her lips as she gazes into Emma's hazel eyes. "I don't think that makes me evil...Do you?" She asks quietly, unsure why she's confiding in this stranger but oddly very interested in her opinion.
Emma's head jerks back slightly, surprised and a little awkward at Regina's sudden vulnerability along the direct line of parenting questions. She looks away for a moment and leans forward to pick up her drink. "I'm...sure he's...just saying that because of the fairy tale thing," she responds, lifting her glass to her lips to take a sip.
"What fairy tale thing?" Regina inquires, confused.
"Oh, you know, his book," the blonde smiles, pursing her lips at the light burning of the liquor down her throat. When Regina tilts her head, not understanding, Emma clarifies. "How he thinks everyone's a cartoon character from it. Like, his shrink is Jiminy Cricket," she laughs softly, amused.
"I'm sorry. I really have no idea what you're talking about," Regina says, her face blank as she stares at Emma, distracted just a little by the glint of light in the blonde's eyes.
Emma's eyebrows lift slightly and she feels instantly awkward again. She hesitates, taking a deep breath as she searches Regina's face. "You know what?" She shrugs, shaking her head. "It's really none of my business. He's your kid. And...I really should be heading back," she says, watching Regina carefully.
"Of course." The mayor stands immediately, smoothing out her dress and moving toward the door.
Emma feels herself a little surprised at how abruptly Regina accepted her offer to leave. She hesitates, the sip of liquor sitting in her mouth - but as she watches Regina open the door and stand beside it, not quite meeting her eyes, Emma notices a chill in the air that wasn't there before. She sets her glass back down and gets up, quickly swallowing and feeling like it's more than just the liquor burning in her chest as she makes her way back out into the front room.
As she watches her guest walk past her toward the front door, Regina finds her gaze drifting down from that long, flowing blonde hair to Emma's tight-fitting black jeans. Just as Emma begins to turn around, Regina clears her throat, shaking herself out of her thoughts and back to the purpose of Emma's visit.
Emma presses her suddenly damp palms against her back pockets, still feeling a little uncomfortable with how suddenly the temperature dropped between them. "Right - thanks for...er...Well, it was nice to meet you," she stammers, holding her hand out toward Regina. "I hope you'll tell Henry...the same?"
Regina narrows her eyes a little, slowly shifting her attention to Emma's outstretched hand, and notices it trembling just slightly. 'Good,' she inwardly smirks, 'you should be intimidated, you….blonde.' Relieved she hadn't said this aloud, the Storybrooke mayor reaches around said blonde to open the front door, flashing one of her trademark, gorgeously-mysterious smiles as she takes Emma's hand in a firm handshake. "Thank you for returning Henry home, Miss Swan. Be sure to drive safely, now."
Emma simply nods, holding her gaze, and Regina notes how deep and yet full of light this woman's eyes are. Catching herself again, Regina swiftly drops Emma's hand and opens the door a bit wider. The blonde nods again, getting the message. She turns and steps over the threshold in one movement, moving across the porch and starting down the walkway without looking back.
As Regina shuts the front door, she feels her smile fade and she bites her lower lip. The woman hesitates, unsure why she's suddenly feeling so….uncomposed. Without understanding the compulsion, she presses her palms to the front door and watches through the peephole as Emma walks down the pathway, passes through the gate, and then pauses in front of her little yellow Volkswagen to fish her keys out of her pocket.
The knot that's been growing again in Regina's stomach flutters a little when she sees Emma become still for a moment and slowly turn around, looking up at the house. The queen feels her breath catch in her chest once again and her finger comes down to gently trace her collarbone with one finger, fixated on the woman who had waltzed into her life tonight, unexpected and unannounced - and yet still somehow intriguing and captivating. When Emma finally turns, opens her car door, revs it up, and drives off, Regina pulls back from the door and runs her hand through her hair, shaking her head and letting out a little sigh.
As she drives through the still, silent town, Emma replays the day's events in her mind. It seems like just a second ago, she was wishing herself a happy birthday on a little cupcake. And now...Storybrooke, Maine? Her kid believes in real life fairy tales? ...Her kid... "Of all the places I've never heard of and all the people I thought I'd never meet…" she mutters to herself.
The last light on the way out of town turns red just before she approaches, and Emma slows her car to a stop. She absently drums her fingers on the steering wheel, pursing her lips in thought as she remembers the way Regina's dark eyes sparkled mysteriously when she offered her apple cider...how her dainty ankles crossed over one another and her pale, bare shoulders straightened with dignity and pride as she spoke of her son.
The light turns green and Emma gently coaxes her little bug across the intersection and onto the two-lane road out of town, her lips twisting in thought as those last few moments in Regina's office play out again in her head. 'What was that sudden temperature drop all about?' She wonders to herself, her eyebrows knitting together as she tries to remember exactly what she said that could have upset the mysterious woman so.
She finds her mind wandering yet again, remembering that little involuntary wrinkle in the mayor's nose each time she took a sip of that strong liquor. Emma blushes gently, a small smile spreading across her lips, before she suddenly shakes her head to clear her mind of such strangely intoxicating thoughts. 'Maybe those drinks were stronger than I thought,' she scoffs inwardly at the idea that someone could make her feel like a lightweight. "Maybe I should call Jiminy Cricket for a psych consult," she laughs aloud. "Right..."
The moonlight glints against something in the passenger's seat and catches Emma's eye, pulling her out of her little joke. She looks down and sees Henry's fairy tale book. "Sneaky bastard," she smirks, certain that the kid had purposefully left it as an insurance policy against her departure from town.
As she looks back up to the road in front of her, Emma sees a large, white wolf standing in the middle of the narrow street. She gasps, swerving hard out of the way - and just in time, too, as she barely misses hitting the majestic creature. But the Volkswagen is too old to handle such an abrupt command gracefully, and the car slams hard into the sign at the town line.
