Regina's heels clicked against the sidewalk.

She was returning home from a long day of work.

Ugh. If it weren't for that Swan girl, she would be relaxing in her office, not running around cleaning up the messes she was making.

And her son too!

Her own son!

He had deserted her and gone off with this woman. Emma wasn't his mother. She was!

Grumbling, and fists clenched, she rushed home.

All she wanted was a hot bath and glass of wine.

Maybe even a apple pie.

She wouldn't share it since her son had been so cruel to her. It was one fresh baked apple pie for her. She could already smell the sweetness of the apples and the hint of spice from the cinnamon.

She walked home a little faster.

As she got to her large white house, she heard a strange sound in her bushes. She snapped around.

There was nothing there.

Turning around she unlocked the door and entered. As she shut the door, she could sense a presence.

And it wasn't her son's.

Someone had been here.

And she could smell something.

She couldn't really place it, but there was definitely something perfuming the air.

She entered the kitchen.

If she hadn't been searching she probably wouldn't have noticed it.

But there lying on her counter was a tin pan.

It was covered, so she couldn't see what was inside.

Curiosity got the better of her fear and she went and opened it.

Inside was something that made her blood boil.

It was a pie.

But, it was not apple.

It was pumpkin.

She hated pumpkin pie.

There was also a note:

Happy Halloween your Majesty!

P.S. Hope you like pumpkin.

~R.

That sick imp!

She smashed the precious pumpkin delight onto one of her mirrors.

It made a large splat and the tin fell to the ground.

That same sick imp stood outside her window and watched her throw the pie.

He smirked.

"Your Turn."