A/N: I should probably be focusing on my other two multi-chapter fics (and I will update those soon), but this idea wouldn't leave my head, and since it's the holiday season I didn't want to wait. It's also yet another narrative style I haven't used before, so it's fun to change things up. So, Happy Holidays! Here's a holiday-themed SQ fic. But even if you don't celebrate any of the December holidays, I hope you'll still read it because it's not overly-specific :)

One quick note: this fic plays fast and loose with family lineage and relationship history, (e.g., Cora is engaged to Leopold, so obviously Regina and Leopold were never involved in this one, thank God). Also, I often get anon reviews asking why I sometimes have Regina in a relationship with Robin at the start of my fics, but rest assured he doesn't exist in this verse, and she is 100% single from the beginning. (As is Emma, when she comes into play). This fic will be four or five chapters long, and my plan is to have it completed by Christmas Eve (Dec. 24).

"What was that address again, ma'am?" the driver asks, glancing in the rearview mirror of the town car. In the forty-five minutes they have been on the road, his passenger hasn't once bothered to look up from the paper she's been holding in her hands in the backseat.

"108 Mifflin Street," the woman confirms, meeting the reflection of his eyes briefly before resetting her focus on the document she holds tightly in her grip.

"Thank you, ma'am. We're about ten minutes away," he says as he crosses the Storybrooke town line.

"I know," she says softly, taking a deep breath as she officially enters the town she once called home. She allows her eyes to look at the familiar forest lining the shady rural roads for a brief moment. Already feeling a sense of regret and dread, she reads the note in her hands for what must be the fifty-ninth time since she got off the plane in Portland an hour ago, and that doesn't include the several hundred times she read it on her ninety-minute flight from Washington, D.C. She doesn't know why she continues to reread the letter, because she already has it memorized. Nonetheless, she can't stop torturing herself. During her childhood, she had been conditioned to find a twisted comfort in the deprecating comments that often served as her only form of attention, and she had spent the last decade of her life trying to rid herself of that habit. She had been relatively successful at her attempts over the years, but perhaps preparing to return to her hometown has stirred up some old patterns.

Her eyes skim across the familiar cursive, slightly more askew than it once was, but that detail is only discernable to her scrutinizing eye — it is still more impeccable than anyone else could have done. Her mind can't help but drift back to the memory of her mother forcing her to practice her penmanship as a young girl, which often resulted in tears of frustration and a thorough scolding due to her illegible loops and inconsistent letter height. It's no wonder that she grew up to be a physician. At work she laughs off the comments about her "chicken scratch" from her colleagues and rolls her eyes when her medical assistant reminds her that she "really does nothing to disprove the stereotype about doctors," trying not to let it bother her as those childhood memories of strict lessons threaten to reappear at inopportune times. And then when she became a preteen and started dotting her "i's" with little hearts just like her friends did, well, she thought her mother would actually have an aneurism.

As the car pulls up to the white Colonial estate she closes her eyes, meditating for less than a minute to steady her nerves until the driver opens the car door for her. She steps her stiletto-clad feet onto the pavement, accepting the driver's gloved hand as he helps her out of the vehicle. When he goes to get her luggage from the trunk, she succumbs to temptation and rereads the note one more time:

My darling daughter,

I know no one will ever replace your father, and I am sorry we fell out of touch. However, we are your only surviving family, and we would all be very disappointed if you did not join us for this occasion. I think you will find that Leopold and his two daughters are going to be great additions to this family, should you wish to be part of it.

I do hope you will consider it,

Your mother

She then runs her fingers over the gold embossed invitation that houses the handwritten note:

You are cordially invited to celebrate the engagement of

Ms. Cora West, Esq.

and

Dr. Leopold Blanchard

23rd of December at seven p.m

The Mayoral Mansion

108 Mifflin Street, Storybrooke, ME.

Dress: Cocktail

Please RSVP via the enclosed card by the 15th of December.

In lieu of gifts, please bring a cash or check donation to the charity of your choice.

Even after reading the invitation and accompanying note hundreds of times, she still can't decide which aspect is more egregious: the passive-aggressive guilt trip in the letter, or the pretentious inclusion of "esquire" on an invitation that presumably was only distributed to close friends and family, all of whom are well aware of the mayor's credentials.

"Would you like help with your bags, ma'am?"

The driver's voice pulls her back to the present. "Oh, no thank you, Sidney. I can manage," she replies.

He tips his hat with his gloved fingers before he enters his car and backs out of the driveway, leaving the woman staring up at the mansion. She gives herself a minute as she takes steadying breath before she rolls her suitcase up the front walkway.

*.*.*

She can hear the classic chime of the doorbell that rings out within the house from her place on the front porch. She catches herself as she rocks back and forth on her heels, another nervous habit that remains from her youth. She manages to stop her motions just as the front door opens, revealing a balding, bearded man in his early 60s. "Can I help you?" he asks, glancing briefly at the suitcase next to her before looking back at her.

"Yes, I'm looking for my mother..." Regina replies, a little taken aback. She assumes this must be her mother's fiancé, and if he doesn't recognize her, then that means that Cora has never shown him a photograph of her. While she hasn't seen her mother since she was in college, Regina knows she doesn't look that much different than she did the last time they had taken a family photograph. Her mother must have erased her from their lives. How lovely.

"Oh, you must be Gina," he says, finally connecting the dots. "Please, come in. Cora didn't know whether you would make it to our little town."

"Yes, well, it was a rather last minute decision. I had to make sure all of our clinic shifts were covered," Regina lies. She works at a family practice and keeps relatively humane hours, and she hasn't had to be on-call on a holiday in years now that she has risen in seniority. But, no one in Storybrooke needs to know that. Her lack of an RSVP was purely due to her own indecision and self-torment.

"Right. Your mother mentioned that you had been pre-med in college, but she said you dropped out to become an EMT. If you're working in a clinic, then I assume you're an ER tech now?" he asks in a way Regina thinks may be rhetorical.

Regina holds back an eye roll, because of course her mother would highlight what she perceived as her daughter's shortcomings. As much as Cora loves perfection, she also seems to get off on pointing out her daughter's ineptitude to anyone who will indulge her. "Actually—" Regina starts but doesn't have time to correct his assumption, as Leopold interrupts her, beckoning the matriarch to the entryway.

"Cora, dear, we have a guest," he calls as he turns toward the back of the house to where his wife-to-be must be.

Regina takes the opportunity to glance around at her surroundings. Very little has changed since the last time she was here. The foyer wallpaper remains untouched, and the wood floors are freshly polished, looking as pristine as the day she had left for her junior year of college. Little did she know at the time that it would be her last time in that house for more than a decade.

"Who is it, dear? The caterers aren't due to arrive for another two hours," Cora's voice rings out as the click of her heels echo in the hallway, drawing nearer with every step and causing Regina's back to reflexively straighten.

"Hello, Mother," Regina says as her mother comes into view. She eyes the older woman cautiously, noting that although she has aged, she is still as elegant as ever.

"Gina, darling, I am surprised to see you," Cora says as she steps closer, maintaining a healthy distance.

Regina cringes at the nickname. Her father had been the one to name her 'Regina,' paying homage to his favorite aunt. Cora had never cared for the name, so she had tried to force the nickname on her. Regina has always hated it, though, and after her mother's failed attempt at a compromise with the name 'Ginny' when Regina was seven, the older woman had finally acquiesced. However, after her parents' divorce after her senior year of high school, her mother had gone back to using the shortened name, purely out of spite and contempt for anything associated with Henry Mills. Cora had even gone back to using her maiden name "West," and encouraged Regina and her older sister to do the same. Regina had refused, but her sister gladly gave in to their mother's demands. After all, Zelena had been about to start law school and needed the tuition money her mother promised her if she obliged.

"Well, you did invite me, and it seemed more like a demand than a request for my presence, so here I am," Regina responds, forcing a fake smile on her face. "Congratulations on your engagement," she says, looking between the pair.

"Thank you, dear," Cora says. "I take it you two have made your introductions?"

"We figured it out," Regina confirms.

"Well, let's get the formalities out of the way. Gina, this is your new step-father to be, Dr. Leopold Blanchard," Cora says proudly, not noticing how Regina balks not only at the nickname, but at the insinuation that this random man will play any sort of familial role in her life when the younger woman barely even acknowledges that Cora is her mother. "And Leo, darling, this is my youngest daughter, Gina Mills," she says, nearly choking on the words as she speaks her daughter's last name.

"Actually, it's Regina," she corrects. "And if we're going with formalities, it would be Dr. Regina Mills," she adds, sending a leveling gaze to her mother.

"Oh, Really?" Cora asks. "I thought you gave up that little dream right around the time you gave up your fiancé and my financial support. The last I had heard after you failed physics and I cut you off, you quit college to drive an ambulance."

It's times like these that Regina wishes she had the ability to instantaneously disappear and transport herself anywhere that was not here. She is extremely tempted to turn around and leave, because coming back to Storybrooke was clearly a mistake. However, she's here now, and she refuses to let her mother chase her away that easily. "I didn't fail physics, Mother, I got a C. And I didn't quit college. I took off one semester to become an EMT so I could help support myself while I finished school and to gain extremely valuable experience that would help get me into med school…which it did."

"Well, good for you," Cora says halfheartedly.

"So what kind of medicine do you practice?" Leopold asks, sensing the tension and wanting to move the conversation along to a less heated subject.

"I'm an OBGYN," Regina says.

"Of course you are," Cora mumbles in an irritated tone.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Regina asks, narrowing her eyes.

"Nothing, dear. If you'll excuse me, I have more preparations to make before the party. I do hope you brought something more suitable to wear for the party tonight."

"Of course, Mother," Regina says, quickly looking down at her dark denim and grey sweater that she had worn for the flight.

Regina watches her mother leave as Leopold does the same, before returning his focus to Regina. "Well, that's wonderful that you were able to go to medical school, Regina," he says. "Where did you go to school and do your residency?"

"Georgetown for both," Regina answers.

"Oh, that's a great school."

"It is. I loved it," she nods. "And you're a psychiatrist?" she asks, although she knows the answer. When she received the invitation she quickly googled her mother's fiancé to find out who he was, and she came across his faculty profile page for a small liberal arts college in Maine, not too far from Storybrooke. He directs the student mental health clinic and serves as the treating psychiatrist, and he also teaches in the psychology department.

"I am. For nearly forty years now."

"That is quite a career," Regina says.

"I've loved every minute of it. You might get along well with my son-in-law David, too. He'll be here for the party. He's a pediatrician."

"Oh, great," Regina says, hoping her forced enthusiasm sounds genuine. She doesn't particularly like to talk about work on her days off, but she supposes that might make this horrid weekend go by more quickly.

"Well, let's move your suitcase out of the foyer and let you get settled. There is an extra room in the guest house that you can use."

"Thank you, Leopold."

"Shall I show you to it?"

"I'm quite all right. I remember where it is," she smiles as she grabs the handle of her suitcase and walks up the few steps from the foyer into the main hall of the house.

"Of course," he nods as he follows behind her, realizing that this was Regina's home for many years.

*.*.*

Regina sits down on the bed in one of the guest house bedrooms with a sigh. There are three bedrooms in total, and two already seem to be in use. When she poked her head into the largest of the three, she recognized the vintage Louis Vuitton luggage sitting on the bed as the luggage set her sister has had her eye on since she was 15, and therefore deduced that Zelena must already be in town. The other bedroom had a medium-sized Nike duffle bag sitting at the end of the unmade bed, and she could only assume that one of Leopold's daughters has commandeered that room. So, she ends up in the smallest of the three, and aside from hanging up the dress she plans to wear to the party to help prevent any wrinkles from forming, she doesn't bother to unpack her suitcase. Her return flight is scheduled for the early afternoon on the day after Christmas, and if her three-minute conversation with her mother earlier in the day is any indication, she may want to change her flight to Christmas Eve instead. Leopold seems nice enough, but she doesn't think she can take a full three days in her mother's presence. Christmas was always her favorite holiday to spend with her father, and she's been spending it alone ever since his death three years ago. She has to admit to herself that her mother's mention of her father and family in the invitation letter got to her. Spending it alone, however, now seems more appealing than spending it in Storybrooke.

"Well, if it isn't the prodigal daughter, home at last," a voice says from the doorway, pulling Regina out of her thoughts.

"Zelena," Regina sighs, looking over at her older sister. "You look well."

"Yes, I know," she says, fluffing her hair. "I would say the same to you, but you're looking awfully rundown."

"Yes, well, traveling will do that, combined with working until 2am this morning and having to deal with Mother immediately upon my arrival."

"2am, eh? Let me guess, bartending? Or have you had to resort to exotic dancing since Mummy dearest cut you off?"

Regina scoffs. "Neither. And 'Mummy?' What's with the fake accent, Zee?"

"It's not fake, my dear Gina. I've been living in London for the past six years. You would know that if you bothered to keep in touch with your family."

"I kept in touch with the only family member who mattered to me, Zelena."

"Oh yes, our dear father. God rest his soul."

Regina flies up off the bed and grabs her sister's shoulders, pressing her against the wall. "You do not get to talk about him. You couldn't even be bothered to come to his funeral."

"Yes, well, he chose his side when he left, as did you when you went with him."

Regina releases her grip on her sister, taking a deep breath. She refuses to let her sister drag her into this fight again. "I am going to go take a shower. And when I get back, you will no longer be standing in my room. I will be civil to you at the party, but this is not going to turn into some happy reunion. There's a reason I didn't talk to you or mother for a decade."

*.*.*

Zelena just left to go to the main house for the party, while Regina stays back so that she will arrive a little while later, buying her more time before she has to face her mother and sister again. Thankfully, Zelena had left her alone most of the afternoon, but she is still feeling tense from the mixed emotions of seeing the woman for the first time in more than ten years. She used to idolize her big sister, but as the family's secrets began to reveal themselves during her high school years, the rose-colored glasses with which she viewed the women in her family began to shatter. Now, she needs a few moments alone in the house, without sensing her sister's presence, to gather her strength and build up the walls she needs to make it through this night unscathed. With a final check of her makeup and smoothing down a flyaway hair, Regina slips on her silver Stuart Weitzman metallic ankle boots and walks out the door.

She expertly navigates the path from the guest house to the main house, cursing herself for not bringing a jacket. It's only fifty yards or so, but on a winter evening in Maine, it's well below freezing outside and even the short walk is a bit too much. She shivers as she slips into the main house through the kitchen door overlooking the backyard. She nearly crashes into a caterer, who is coming back with an empty tray to refill before returning to the party. She mutters an apology for the near collision as she does a quick scan of the room, looking for the family members she is hoping to avoid. Oddly enough, since this is her mother's party, she has a decent chance of avoiding the woman most of the night, as Cora will be busy playing the perfect hostess. She doesn't see the older brunette, so she sighs in relief and exits the kitchen.

She's too anxious to eat, so she bypasses the impressive spread on the dining room table and wards off a few overly enthusiastic waiters who insist she must try the canapé, all but shoving the tray into her chest as she pushes past them. Instead, she spots a bar set up in the front room opposite the piano, where a young man in a tuxedo is playing jazzy Christmas standards. She makes a beeline for the bar, recognizing the bartender as August Booth. He had been a year behind her in school, but always seemed to watch her with fascination in their one shared class her junior year, and she often caught him staring at her in the halls until she graduated. She never suspected he had a crush on her, but instead it seemed like he was trying to figure something out about her. He always talked about wanting to be a writer, so she could only assume he was writing stories about her in his head. Clearly, the writing thing hadn't worked out for him if he was forced to bartend at her mother's engagement party.

"Regina," he greets as she approaches. After years of observing her, he would recognize her anywhere.

"Hi, August. It's nice to see you," she says, forcing a smile.

"You remember me?" he asks in amusement. "I'm honored."

She shrugs. "I'm good with names and faces."

"Well, what can I get for you?"

She eyes the selection of wines and liquor, including the pretentious menu of signature drinks developed especially for the occasion. "Scotch on the rocks please, and make it a double."

"Yes, ma'am…I take it you're anticipating a rough night?" he asks, quickly pouring the drink and handing it to his former classmate.

"Indeed. I need to take the edge off quickly, and then we'll see how it goes. I'm sure I'll be back. Excuse me," she says, nodding her head in thanks as she walks through the room.

She spots her sister across the foyer talking to a very pregnant woman and a handsome man. She watches as Zelena hugs the woman and takes her coat, hanging it up in the hall closet. She finds that odd, as all the guest coats are being taken to an upstairs guest room by one of the staff members her mother has hired for the evening. She's surprised to see her sister is continuing the conversation with the couple as they continue walking into the living room, located to the left of the foyer. Curiosity gets the best of her, and she can't hide all night, so she decides to try and be social. "Hello, Zelena," Regina says as she comes to stand next to where her sister is sitting on an ottoman, while the couple sits on the loveseat across from her.

"Ah, yes, Gina. How nice of you to finally grace us with your presence. Has Mother found you yet?"

Regina shakes her head. "No, she hasn't. I've done a perimeter check already but haven't run into her."

"She's probably off scolding the party planner, as there seems to be a small hiccup with the valet parking," Zelena remarks.

Regina rolls her eyes. Some things never change. "That sounds like her."

"I'm sorry," the pixie-haired brunette on the couch says. "You're Gina, Cora's other daughter?"

"It's Regina, actually," she clarifies, annoyed that her mother's nickname has spread. "But yes, I am," she says extending her hand to the woman. "And you are…?"

"Oh, I'm Mary-Margaret Nolan, and this is my husband David. I'm Leopold's oldest daughter. Your future step-sister," she smiles, far too cheerfully for Regina's liking.

Regina forces a smile to her lips. "It's nice to meet you," she says, before shaking her future brother-in-law's hand.

"Why don't you join us?" David offers.

Regina can't think of a reason not to, and at least this will give her something to do and perhaps make the time pass more quickly. She hesitantly sits down on the opposite side of the ottoman, putting as much space between Zelena and herself as possible.

"Cora says you haven't been to Storybrooke in years," Mary-Margaret says. "How does it feel to be back?"

Regina stiffens slightly, annoyed that this is the woman's first question. "In some ways, it feels like I never left," she grimaces, taking a large gulp of her drink. The ice has yet to melt, so the undiluted liquor burns her throat, but she finds it strangely comforting.

David seems to be better at reading non-verbal cues than his wife, so he quickly changes the subject. "So, Regina, what do you do?"

"I'm an OBGYN."

"Really?" Zelena asks, looking over at her sister in shock.

"Why does everyone seem so surprised by this?" Regina asks, more rhetorically than anything. Do her mother and sister really think of her as that much of a failure?

"That's great. I'm a pediatrician," David replies, not giving Zelena the opportunity to respond.

"Yes, Leopold mentioned that when I met him earlier today," Regina says. "And what do you do, Mary-Margaret?"

"I'm a kindergarten teacher," she beams.

"So, you two really love kids," she says, mainly referring to their choice of careers, but also glancing toward Mary-Margaret's very pregnant abdomen.

"Indeed we do," David confirms, placing a light hand on his wife's belly and caressing it gently.

"How far along are you?" Regina asks.

"Just hit 36 weeks yesterday," the woman replies. "I'm having twins."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Regina says, genuinely happy for them. "Do you know what you're having?"

"No, we want to be surprised," Mary-Margaret answers. "We painted the nursery green so we're covered regardless."

"Do you have any other kids?" Regina asks.

"Yes. We have a six-year-old, Neal," David says. When he sees Regina's puzzled look as she glances around looking for a young child, he continues. "Mary-Margaret's little sister took him out to the ice rink earlier and then to dinner to help tire him out. She's going to bring him by later and hopefully he'll go straight to bed…Do you have any kids, Regina?"

She shakes her head. "No. I've mainly been focused on my career, so there hasn't been time for that yet. Maybe someday."

Zelena coughs. "Plus, that would require a man, and you selfishly threw away the perfect one Mother picked out for you back in college."

"Zee, not this again. For the love of God," she sighs as she finishes her drink. "Besides, I don't see any eligible bachelor on your arm, either."

"That's because my fiancé Walsh is back in London with his family for Christmas. It's his niece's christening and he couldn't miss it. He's a barrister, too," she brags.

"That's great," Regina deadpans as she stands. "Now, I am going to go grab something to eat and another drink. Can I get anyone anything?"

"We're fine for now, thank you," Mary-Margaret says.

"Well, it was lovely meeting you both. I'm sure I'll see you a bit later," she says to the couple. "Zelena," she says curtly, nodding at her sister as she walks away. Regina had thought about ignoring her entirely, but she ultimately decided to at least acknowledge her existence before she departed. That's progress.

She heads back into the dining room, finally acquiescing to a pushy waiter's insistence that she try whatever French-sounding appetizer is on his tray. She has to admit, it is quite decadent. When she arrives in the dining room, she finds that an elaborate chocolate fondue fountain has been set up on a separate table against the back wall. It's comically tall, with five tiers of chocolate flowing down it. As her eyes scan to the right of the table, she notices an ice sculpture of a Christmas tree. How she had missed that during her first pass-through of the room, she isn't sure. "This is a bit extravagant, don't you think?" she says to her mother, who she finally spots in the room. Regina takes a marshmallow and sticks it with a long skewer, letting the chocolate surround it before popping it into her mouth.

"It's the only way I know, dear," Cora says, eyeing her daughter, who is now wearing a hunter green sheath dress that reaches her mid-thighs. There's an inch-wide strip of black leather down each side of the dress, and the modest-cut straps are offset by the low sweetheart neckline, revealing the perfect amount of cleavage. "It's nice to see you in something other than those rags you came in wearing."

Regina rolls her eyes, reminding herself that this as close to a compliment from Cora West as anyone will ever get. "Thank you, Mother."

Cora pauses for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts for her next backhanded compliment, but then decides she's finished with the conversation and politely excuses herself. Regina is relieved, knowing the less interaction she has with her mother, the better for everyone. The last thing she wants to do is make a scene.

She grabs a few appetizers off the dining room table, regrettably being forced into small talk with the parents of her high school friends as she does so. She quickly decides that conversing with her estranged sister and future step-sister and step-brother-in-law is a less painful option, so she walks back into the living room, finding them in the same place that she left them. Only this time, Leopold is sitting on the arm of the loveseat next to his daughter.

"Regina, it's nice to see you," he says as she sits down on the ottoman once again.

"Hello, Leopold. It's nice to see you again, too."

"I see you met my darling daughter and her charming husband," he says.

"Indeed."

"Well, I am going to go find your beautiful mother, and go say goodnight to my grandson. Excuse me," he says.

"Oh, Neal is back?" Regina asks, delicately taking a bite of a caprese skewer.

"Yeah. My sister just dropped him off and went to go change for the party. We just tucked him in upstairs," Mary-Margaret explains.

"Oh, I see."

"You can go say hi, if you want to meet him," David offers. "Although, he was already falling asleep when we turned off his light."

"No, it's okay. I'll meet him in the morning," Regina says. She's grateful that there will be a young child around the house, because perhaps that will help prevent any large blow-ups between Cora and herself. They'll both need to be on their best behavior if young, impressionable eyes are watching.

The foursome continue to chat, but Zelena is clearly irritated by Regina's presence, so the redhead quickly engages Mary-Margaret in a side conversation, purposefully forcing Regina out of the discussion. The brunette is no stranger to awkward situations, as she spends most of her life around socially inept medical students and doctors, so she can manage. She and David fall into a discussion about their work, as it's a safe common ground. She learns that he and Mary-Margaret live in Boston, where he works at an outpatient facility associated with Boston Children's Hospital. They discover that they graduated medical school the same year, and they were both in D.C. at the same time — David had been at George Washington University while Regina was at Georgetown. They realize that there's a good chance that their paths may have previously crossed during their clerkships in their last two years of medical school, as they had both done rotations in the same hospitals at the same time.

"It's a small world," David comments.

"Indeed it is," Regina agrees.

A few minutes later, Leopold returns to the group, looking over his shoulder as the younger blonde woman accompanying him gets sidetracked by another guest. He walks back over to her and tugs on her arm to get her attention, and she follows behind him obediently. "Zelena, Regina, I'd like you to meet my youngest daughter—"

Regina's eyes go wide as the woman comes into view, as she's the last person Regina expects to ever see again. "Emma?"

A/N: I hope you enjoyed, and please let me know what you think! The next chapter should be up in the next week or so, since I'm on a time crunch to get this finished by Christmas. I plan to update both Second Chances and Silver Linings and A New Exploration within the next week or so as well.