Author's note: There are two separate storylines to this story one in the past and one in the future. The story navigates between those two timelines.

Christmas Eve

Storybrooke, 24th of December 1999

Regina stares out the window as snowflakes twirl, swirl, and waltz right under her eyes. A row of pearly white teeth skims across the surface of her red painted bottom lip before sinking anxiously into it. A sigh escapes her lips tainting the window with condensation. Her small nose presses against the cold surface as she contemplates the snow covered street. One of her hands is holding in its grasp a glass of wine while the other slides pensively down the window frame.

The moonlight confers a soft translucent glow to her skin and illuminates the fabric of her blue satin dress. Her usual braid has been substituted for an extricate hairdo that leaves her long graceful neck in display. A single ebony curl of hair frames her youthful features. He eye makeup is light, but her lips are of a vivid crimson shade. Her beauty is not unlike the one of the fairytale princesses she used to read about and aspire to be as a child.

A faint smile curls her lips upwards at the irony of her thoughts. Her mother has made entirely sure to annihilate all foolish dreams she might have had of having her own happily ever after one day.

"Life is hard, Regina," she often told her. "Reality is harsh. Happiness is unattainable. Power is the only thing that will bring you a semblance of it."

Regina's gaze lowers down to the wine in her hand. She twirls the glass in a soft elegant motion and brings it up to her nose. She inhales the wine's delicate perfume, closing her eyes in appreciation for the briefest second. She tips it between her lips and savor the alcoholised drink with a discreet humming sound. A scarlet mark stains the place where her mouth just met the glass. Regina flushes, glances backwards, and wipes the lipstick off her wine glass with a quick brush of her thumb.

"I knew you'd be here!"

Regina's heart skips a beat. She closes her eyes, mouth going dry. A butterfly storm rises in her stomach, a wild tornado that makes her shiver against her will. He fingers digs into the window's wooden frame as she tries to contain the overwhelming wave of emotion that comes crushing down on her. She turns around. Her lashes flutter with grace and a soft shade of pink colours her cheek.

"Tinkerbell..." She says in a barely audible whisper.

A young woman rests against the study's doorframe, golden strands of hair falling in luscious curls against the fabric of her green coloured gown. Her looks are not as imposing as her friend's, but she is nothing short of stunning.

Trish -Tinkerbell, her friend's call her- is Regina's best friend. Tinkerbell comes from a middle class family. Her parents have extremely liberal views and the blonde's upbringing has been different, in many ways, of her own. They met through high school and, to Regina's mother's displeasure, they quickly grew close. There have been many clashes between them, but the two women have always been able to reconcile their diverging opinions.

"Always so dreamy, Regina," she states, amusement in her voice. "What's on your mind?"

Regina shrugs her shoulders and casts her eyes downwards. She takes another sip of wine. She lets the savory drink caress her tongue then swallows it with difficulty. She gazes out the window again, trying to suppress the lump in her throat.

"Do you want to talk?" Her blonde friend asks.

Regina is not the most open person when it comes to discussing her feelings, but there was a time when she used to confide in her friend. Their relationship has been different lately. Something about their interactions unsettles her. Tinkerbell's proximity makes her feel uncomfortable and her emotions seem to fall out of her control when it comes to her friend. She often finds herself longing for the beautiful blonde's presence and it terrifies her.

She doesn't like to feel attached to other people.

Love is weakness, her mother has been repeating to her for so long that she has started to believe it.

"Do I look like I want to talk?" Regina replies, voice dipped in sarcasm. She groans when she notices the wounded look Tinkerbell directs her way. "I'm sorry, Tink, I just-" She exhales a deep breath. "Do you ever get the feeling that everything is just too perfect?"

The blonde woman laughs, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

"You're not making any sense!"

A frown graces Regina's features and she purses her lips. Her eyes glance outside the window and settle on a figure walking up to her house, following the path her father shoveled in the snow earlier that day. She recognizes it as Daniel, her fiancé.

She worries her lip once more.

She can feel Tinkerbell's presence right by her side. Her body heat irradiates, acting like a comforting blanket against Regina's skin.

"He's such a lovely guy," the blonde whisper near her friend's ear, unhooking Regina's fingers from the window's wooden frame and giving a light reassuring squeeze to her hand.

A shiver courses trough Regina's spine at the feeling of Tinkerbell's breath brushing against the shell of her ear.

"Yes, he is..."

Silence falls over them. Regina tries to concentrate on the dark form moving below but her mind is on the hand holding her own. The physical contact uncomfortable. Their joint hands are quickly turning moist. The sensation is disgusting, unbearable, but somehow she is reluctant to let go. There's something about the friendly gesture that makes her feel embarrassed and immoral, but she craves for it almost desperately.

She takes another sip of red wine, her lips lingering pensively against the glass. She pivots her body towards her friend, contemplating her through a gloomy hooded-stare.

"You look absolutely ravishing with your hair down like that. It's a remarkable step up from that usual disorganized coiffure of yours."

Tinkerbell holds her gaze for a moment, piercing forest green eyes searching her soul. Regina's heart starts hammering hard against her ribcage when the blonde's fingers suddenly increase the pressure they have on her hand.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Tinkerbell whispers in a breathy tone of voice.

Regina's tongue darts out, swiping over her suddenly dry lips. The blonde's eyes follow the small movement with unhindered attention. It's barely perceptible, but both women seem to shift slightly forward.

Regina clears her throat, breaking the rising tension between them.

"It was one," she replies, unclasping their hands and wrapping her arm around her waist.

"You look beautiful as well," Tinkerbell murmurs in a soft voice.

There's a slight blush painted across her face. Her gaze is timid yet instant. Her pink parted lips are so close that Regina can feel her breath caress her cheek.

The dark haired woman leans forward. Her lips hover over Tinkerbell's. The distance separating them so thin that she feels more than hear the gasp that escapes the blonde's mouth.

"Tink," Regina whispers, traces of lust in her voice.

The sound of someone knocking at the door resonates into the distance and both women jump backwards.

Regina isn't as quick as usual to gain her composure. Her cheeks are of a deep shade of red. Her breath is shallow. The grip she has on her wine glass grows so strong her knuckles turn white. She seems completely disarranged until she finally manages to look away.

She swallows tickly.

"I think we should go downstairs and greet Daniel."