Hey guys, this is a Swan Queen Christmas story. It is directly adapted from Michael Switzer's "Three Days" (2001) starring Kristin Davis, Reed Diamond and Tim Meadows. That being said, I hope you will enjoy this version :)

The streets and sidewalks flowed with bustling bodies on the chilly day. Shoppers went from store to store in search of that perfect gift for a loved one. The crowd scattered around the square, bags banging as they searched to pick up holiday pie and cookie orders. A bell chimed dimly through the hustle.

"Ho, ho," mumbled a disenfranchised Santa, who stood by a collection bucket for the Salvation Army.

Emma walked by him at first, only noticing that the older man looked less enthused than any other Santas she'd seen before. She shook her head and turned around.

"Hey Santa," she said, taking some pity on his position. "Tough crowd, huh?"

The man in the red suit grumbled a bit. "I do okay."

Emma raised her eyebrow. She took a look inside the bucket. "Wow," she exclaimed sarcastically, "eighty-seven cents!" She then reached toward him.

"Lady, you give me the donation."

Emma snickered. "I want the bell," she said. He reluctantly passed it to her. Emma took it and rang it hard and loud as she danced a bit, giving the chime a bit of rhythm.

"Ho ho ho!" she cried as people flocked to the bucket, dropping full dollar bills in. Emma turned back to Santa, and handed him back his bell. "Now you try!"

Across the city, two feet sat crossed on a desk as the brunette twirled a pencil in her hand. She slid it into the coiled cord of the phone as she debated with the person on the other line.

"Paperback, Sam? Don't insult me—this guy's a literary giant," Regina spat into the phone. "Yes, we need to give him hard cover. First run." She sighed as she rubbed her temples with her free hand.

"Fine, Sam, you want to stick with the bargain bin? That's great, I have Kim Blanchard on hold," Regina reasoned. "Sure, you can think about it, you have a minute."

Regina smiled as she clicked a button on her phone to switch lines. "Kim, hi, I have Sam Dixon on hold—he wants to publish a hundred-thousand hard cover—you have to top that."

While Regina made her deals at work, Emma was busy at her studio. She walked around the room in yoga pants as she observed her students.

"Breathe in deep," she said softly. She looked to one mat and bent down to help a woman adjust her position.

She moved upright and meandered through the room once more. "Close your eyes, good," she reminded them. "Just focus on right here, right now."

Accustomed to a much less relaxed setting, Regina hung up the phone as her assistant entered. She swiveled around to see her. The leggy redhead sauntered her way in, carrying cups of coffee.

"Hey, I called August Booth to see how his work is going," Ariel said as she handed Regina her drink.

Regina took a sip before asking questions. "Is he done with his sequel yet?"

"No," Ariel said, "he's still in the research process. He's heading back to Storybrooke to get some inspiration."

"Great, as long as he meets his deadline," Regina nodded. Regina looked at the young, red headed assistant. Her eyes traced the outline of her tight fitting pencil skirt along with her dress shirt, which must have been missing buttons at the top. "Was there anything else?"

Ariel tried to look away, figuring her boss would be displeased to discuss their most recently received submission. "Well, yeah, I read the manuscript by that kid Pan, from Chicago—"

Regina smirked. "Yes—'Broken Dreams on the Open Road'?" she said, nearly snickering at the title.

Ariel nodded. "Yes…it's pseudo Jack Kerouac!"

"Couldn't agree more," Regina said. "Call a meeting with the boy—I want to sign him."

"Regina?" Ariel cried. "Do you want to lose your job?"

"Have you heard the buzz with this guy?" Regina leaned forward from her leisurely position. "Popping up all over the web…I smell movie deals, excerpts from Rolling Stone—"

"It's literary junk food!"

Regina arched an eyebrow at her assistant. "Are you a critic or an agent—?" she asked sarcastically. "Don't smell it—sell it." Regina moved over to touch her intercom. "Belle," she said into the device, "book me a flight for Chicago."

Ariel smiled as she reached over, buzzing the button again. "Belle? Book me a flight too."

That evening, Emma headed down to the community garden as planned. She stood with a smile on her face as she watched happy couples and families select their Christmas trees. She looked down at her phone to check the time. It was six-thirty—Regina was an hour late. Emma sighed, as her eyes settled on a skinny little tree.

As she easily carried the small spruce down the few blocks to their apartment, Emma's smile dissipated. She was sure her wife would show up this year. But, as much as she had hoped, she knew better. Across the street, she heard a familiar voice.

"Yes, it's simple—just overnight the contracts to me," Regina's voice rang into her phone. As soon as Emma heard her, she looked across the road to glare at her. "I have to go."

Regina ran across the street and carefully climbed over a snow bank to get to her wife. "Hey, hey, I tried to call you—," she said apologetically.

Emma kept walking. "Really?"

"I did—no one picked up at the clinic," Regina offered.

Emma sneered angrily. "No one picked up because the clinic's closed," she said, only to be met with a look of confusion from Regina. Emma sighed. "I volunteer at the clinic on Tuesdays."

"Where were you?" Regina asked. "The tutoring center?"

Emma shook her head. "No, that's Thursday afternoon."

"Come on!" Regina cried, flinging her briefcase outward. "You flutter like a hummingbird! It's hard to keep track."

Emma was annoyed. "You know—Regina," she began to lecture, "I know you're not really that into Christmas, but I thought one year, we could actually pick out a tree together."

Regina shifted into her half-hearted apology once more. "There was an impromptu reception—I had to—"

"Yeah, yeah," Emma sighed. She knew her wife's excuses.

"Emma!" Regina pleaded. "I'm sorry—it's not like I didn't want to go."

"Really?!" Emma's disappointment had all melted away. She was only left with the bitter taste of her wife's predictable absence. "So what? You forgot—is that it?"

"I didn't forget—I'm swamped."

Emma sighed. "You're always swamped...," she exhaled deeply. "You know what? It's okay…we're good…we have our tree."

Regina glanced at the puny twig of a tree that her wife was carrying. "Oh…this is our tree," she winced at it. "A little sparse, no?"

Emma just gave her a blazing glare when they stepping inside the building. Their mild fighting was only interrupted by a bark.

"Hi Pongo," Emma said to the Dalmatian at her feet. "What are you doing out here?"

"He escaped again," Archie's voice echoed down from the third floor.

Emma laughed as she patted her leg for the dog to follow. "Don't worry, Archie," she called back. "I'll bring him up!"

Regina simply rolled her eyes at the scenario.

Once inside their apartment, Regina rolled up her sleeves and began setting up the Christmas tree. Emma had begun unwrapping the ornaments. After tossing aside some tissue paper, she looked over to her wife. She chuckled as Regina struggled to wiggle the tree into the stand.

"Admit it," she snickered, "that tree is growing on you."

Regina mumbled to herself. "More like growing into me," she spat out as she pulled needles from her hand.

Emma eyed a beautiful glass blown ornament that Regina had given her when they first started dating. She smiled. "Are you going to help decorate this year?"

"Uhh…," Regina let out as she crawled out from under the tree, "you know—"

Emma cut her off, eager about the holiday festivities. "Oh, and Archie and I planned on going caroling with a bunch of the neighbors," she cheered. "You can come!"

Regina stood up to put a hand on her wife's shoulder. "Em, sweetie—"

But Emma continued in her bliss. "I know you don't like singing, but it'll be fun. I'll make you some of my famous hot chocolate with cinnamon."

"Baby—"

Emma paused to stare into her wife's eyes. There it was—the famous Regina Mills guilty look. Emma groaned. "How long will you be gone this time?" But before Regina could answer, Emma began to rant. "Regina, do you realize we've been together for Christmas for the last ten years?!"

"Yes," Regina sighed, cupping her wife's face in her hands. "And I'll be back in time for Christmas Eve."

Emma was still displeased. "You can't delay this until after the holidays?"

"Honey, this author is a hot sell," Regina said softly, as she rubbed her wife's arm. "If we don't move, another agency will. You'll be so busy with your little things, you won't even miss me."

Emma groaned at her remark.

"Just a night," Regina said as she kissed Emma's forehead. "I'll be back soon."

Emma left her embrace, nodding. She went over to the box of ornaments and pulled one out. She gave Regina a candy cane to put on tree, but she handed it back.

"I should really pack."

The next day in Chicago was a success. After hours of wooing Pan and convincing the naïve boy to sign a contract, Regina and Ariel found themselves clanking wine glasses at dinner.

"Okay," Ariel said after taking a sip of wine. "What famous authors died scrounging for scraps?"

Regina laughed. "I'm sure plenty—I had to tell the boy something…," she said as she looked across the table at the red head, specifically gazing at an area of her scarlet dress. "He wasn't biting…we had to hook him."

Ariel laughed, unsure which she found more humorous—Regina's sly business tricks or Regina's not-so-discreet lingering stares at her breasts. "Yeah, who knew you needed his mother's approval to sign him."

"Hey, she seemed to love you," Regina offered, sipping her wine. "I didn't know you grew up on a farm…"

Ariel smiled. "I didn't."

Regina looked utterly confused as she took a bite of her meal.

Ariel continued. "She said she had, so…," she smirked and batted her eyes down. "I went with it. It worked."

Regina smiled. "I guess it did," she said, raising her glass. "Cheers to Pan!"

Ariel tapped her glass with the woman, who was still wearing a full pants suit. "Glad I came now aren't you?"

"You could certainly say that—you sealed the deal."

Ariel fluttered her eyes up at the woman across from her. "Is that the only reason?"

Regina blushed unashamed. "Maybe not."

Ariel smiled widely as she watched the brunette show softness. "Well, that's an improvement—," she said, only to receive a raised eyebrow from Regina. "—from our trip to Providence," she reminded her, "to see August Booth..?"

Regina laughed, recalling the trip. "Do you remember—?"

"—When he caught me slipping out of your room in my lingerie, me claiming I was borrowing toothpaste?" Ariel said, finishing Regina's thought. "Yes."

"I can't believe he didn't believe that," Regina said, taking a large drink from her glass.

Ariel smirked. She glanced down as she danced her fingers playfully on the table. "Quite frankly, I'm surprised that you did."

Regina nearly choked on her wine. "What do you mean?"

The redhead shyly blushed as she finally worked up the courage to look Regina in the eye. "It was an excuse," she said slowly. "I wanted to see you."

Regina watched as Ariel batted her eyes away once more. She was a lovely woman—that was hard to deny. She had the kind of beauty that moved—the kind that was unexpected. It simply caught you at a moment's notice, and crept into your line of vision as she shifted her pose, or gave a shy glance away. Regina had been one to look away in these moments, not wishing to be entranced.

"Tell me," Ariel breathed out in a low, husky voice. Her fingers had now found their way to Regina's dark slacks under the table. As they climbed closer to her center, Regina took in a deep breath. "Do I need an excuse tonight?

Back in Boston, Emma found herself settling in on the couch. She sank into the cushion, wearing pajama pants and one of Regina's collared sweaters. She breathed in the scent of her hot chocolate as it mixed with the apple smell of her wife's perfume. As Emma sipped the warm beverage, she looked over at the photo of her and her wife that sat on the end table.

The photo had been taken years ago, back when they were just engaged. Regina had flown her out to Italy shorty after proposing. Emma smoothed her thumb over the image, smiling as she looked at her wife cradling her, arms wrapped around her waist. Regina had given Emma her jacket, much against her protesting. Emma sighed as she looked at her wife—the one from years ago who would do anything for her. It wasn't that Regina's devotion had faded. Emma knew she'd still take care of her. But now, it felt more like familial obligation rather than passionate dedication to her lover.

Emma pulled her phone from her pocket. As she read from the note that Regina had left, she skipped over the flight information and put her finger to the number for her hotel.

"Hi," she said when the concierge answered, "can you connect me with Regina Mills-Swan's room, please?"

After dinner and wine, Regina and Ariel had found their way back to Regina's room. Ariel stood in front of the mirror, fixing her hair. She pulled on her dress to center it and then refocused nervously on her hair.

Regina stayed in the bathroom for a long time. She combed her hair and ran her hands through it, giving it the right amount of volume. She fumbled for her lipstick in her makeup bag. Parting her lips, she glossed on the red shade. She pursed her lips a few times to blot and gently wiped the corners of her mouth. When she put her lipstick back, Regina felt a piece of paper.

She pulled out a coiled roll of paper and began to unravel it. There in her hands was a hand drawn picture of her and Emma kissing. Next to it, written in Emma's script, it said, 'I love you'.

"What's taking you so long?" Ariel called from the bedroom.

Regina paused, not immediately registering Ariel's voice. "Just a minute."

In the bedroom, Ariel had delicately propped herself up on the bed. She waited eagerly for Regina to join her. She'd been playing at this for years. Tonight was the night and no one would stop her.

Just as she had settled herself, the phone rang. "Regina!" she called out. But when there was no response from the bathroom, she decided to answer.

"Hello?" she answered, but no one responded. "Hello?" Figuring it had been the wrong number, Ariel hung up the phone. She turned her attention to the brunette who was finally emerging from the bathroom.

Regina looked defeated and somber. "Hey."

"Ut oh," Ariel teased as she sat up slowly, moving her body closer to Regina's. "Are you having second thoughts?"

Regina was nervous. She kept her distance from the bed. "I was thinking," she let out, "these things get complicated quickly."

"Ah huh…," Ariel said slowly. "So let's keep it simple." She crawled her way on the bed, edging closer and closer to where Regina stood, completely guarded.

"I'm married," she said firmly.

The sudden admission of guilt angered the redhead. "And this is news?" she laughed mockingly. "Who knew Regina Mills had a conscience?"

"I'm sorry—," Regina said, "I shouldn't have led you on."

But by this time, Ariel had already got up, grabbed her purse, and put on her shoes. "Regina, I'm a big girl," she said as she headed for the door. "I'm already over this."

As she left, Regina fell to her knees. She broke down in silent tears, appalled by her own behavior. Had it really taken a love letter from her wife to stop her from an affair? Emma was her world—she'd do anything for her. When had that connection between them faded?—she wondered. More importantly, when had she let it fade? Regina soon decided that the answers to these questions didn't matter. What mattered was getting back to her wife.