2001

For 30 years Regina's life has been about control. She's made herself forget the years when her life had been controlled by her mother and the years after that when her body had been controlled by her husband. The need to maintain tight control over her own life and the lives of everyone around her isn't conscious anymore; it's simply how she functions.

So, of course, the details of her son's first Christmas are perfectly planned. Maybe it's silly because he's only eight months old, and he won't remember today. But, it's her baby's first Christmas, and she wants it to be amazing.

It's 5:30 in the morning, and Regina's in the kitchen baking. While Henry is still too young to eat caramel apple sticky rolls in the over, she wants him to wake up to the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg. Regina's making a pot of homemade applesauce for Henry, too. She wants to be the perfect mother, wants so much to make everything right for her son.

Regina hears a cry on the baby monitor and sets down her cup of coffee to rush upstairs to Henry's room. She walks into her son's lavishly decorated nursery and reaches into the crib to pick up the squalling baby. Henry's skin is warm and clammy, and for a moment Regina's heart beats loudly in her ears. She presses Henry to her chest, rubbing soothing circles on his back as she walks to the bathroom to get a thermometer. She confirms a fever that is high enough to make her baby uncomfortable, but not high enough to make Regina panic. She places a kiss to Henry's forehead and walks back to his nursery. Regina sits down in the antique rocking chair, hoping the motion will lull Henry back to sleep.

No such luck. It's a half hour later, after Henry's sobs have tapered off, that the smoke alarm goes off, and Regina remembers the sticky buns in the oven. She rushes downstairs, her once again loudly crying baby pressed to her chest to find a burning tray of pastries and a bubbling pot of applesauce. Regina can barely believe her carelessness as she turns off the oven and opens a few windows to clear the smoke from her kitchen.

In an uncharacteristic move, Regina leaves the mess for later, and brings her baby back upstairs. He's finally quiet, and Regina tries to settle him into his crib. But the moment Regina lays Henry down, he starts screeching again. Regina picks Henry back up, hushing him, and smoothing a hand through his silky hair.

It continues that way through the morning. The moment Henry quiets and Regina tries to set him in his crib so she can clean up the mess in the kitchen, he begins crying anew. So she settles in the rocking chair again, humming a lullaby her father sang to her when she was a little girl. And though it's far from the well planned, well controlled Christmas that Regina had in mind, she can't think of anything more perfect than the feeling of Henry falling asleep against her chest while she sings to him.

2012

The brandy burns Regina's throat. She's been sitting and staring at the fire for hours. Normally on Christmas Eve, she would be busy cooking and wrapping presents. But this year, for the first time since Henry was born, she's alone. This shouldn't surprise Regina, of course, because somehow, despite all her efforts, she always seems to be alone. Though Regina knows that she doesn't deserve pity, that she's brought all this on herself, she pours another glass of brandy and settles in for a night of self pity anyway.

The doorbell rings, and Regina cannot imagine who would be at her door, but she pulls herself up, trying her best to look dignified despite her red rimmed, puffy eyes. Regina opens the door to find Henry with his backpack slung over his shoulder. She tries to contain the shock on her face as Henry smiles, offers a quick "Hi Mom," and runs inside out of the cold.

Regina looks quizzically at the blonde woman hanging back a few feet. Emma walks up to the door. "He wanted to spend Christmas at home," Emma tells the brunette. Regina can't quite believe it. Henry had everything he ever wanted this year - his birthmother, the family of heroes he always imagined - but he chose to come home to Regina?

Emma watches as Regina's eyes tear up, and it tugs at her in a way that she can't quite explain as purely empathy for her son's other mother. Emma's been feeling something more for Regina for a long time, and seeing Regina looking so unlike herself - so vulnerable and exposed - right now stirs this feeling up even more acutely.

Regina takes a moment to get over her shock, and once she regains her composure a little, she asks Emma, "Do you want to come in? I haven't cooked anything, but I do still make the most delicious apple cider you've ever tasted." Regina isn't sure if this is intended as a supervised visit, isn't sure whether Emma trusts Regina with Henry.

Emma smiles softly at Regina, realizing that they are so close that she can feel the older woman's breath on her cheek. Regina with her hair softly curling, her face free of makeup, is one of the most beautiful things that Emma has ever seen. "Thanks, but I'm going to get back to Mary Margaret and David. If you and Henry want to join us tomorrow for dinner, we're going to be at Granny's."

Regina blinks back her shock for a minute, completely stunned into silence once again. She can't believe that Emma is allowing her to take Henry for Christmas, and the blonde's willingness to bring Henry home for Christmas is enough to make Regina think that maybe it's finally time to put old grudges aside. Years of seeking vengeance has nearly left Regina with nothing. She thinks of Henry, the beautiful boy that she would gladly give her life for, and says, before she can think better of it, "That would be lovely. What would you like us to bring?"

"Anything without apples," Emma says with a smirk. Regina watches Emma walk down the path back towards her car, taking a moment to wonder if the warm feeling in her stomach is from the blonde's smile, the fact that Henry is already making himself comfortable on the couch and watching A Charlie Brown Christmas, or simply the liquor she'd consumed earlier.

Regina closes the door to her house, which suddenly feels like a home again, and joins Henry on the couch. She resists the urge to put her arms around him and never let go, not wanting to feel him shrug her away, but Henry surprises Regina by leaning into her chest with a warm smile. She wraps an arm around Henry's shoulder and gives him a tight squeeze. "Merry Christmas Henry," she whispers against his hair, and the words have never felt more true.

2013

Regina wakes up to a snow blanketed town on Christmas morning. She smiles to herself, knowing just how happy this will make her son. She walks down the stairs, takes a moment to appreciate the beautifully decorated tree and the meticulously wrapped presents. It's everything Christmas morning should be.

Regina wraps her scarf and coat around herself and steps out onto her back porch. Despite the cold air, the bright sunshine warms her cheeks.

It's been a year of change for Regina. Her mother is finally, truly dead. Heart turned to ash, body burned, never coming back, dead. Regina still isn't certain how that makes her feel. Storybrooke too is irrevocably changed. Half the town had chosen to return to their own land, and the streets still feel empty. Magic is gone from the town once again, a fact for which Regina is extremely grateful. Because here, in a life without power or magic, Regina has found two things that she's wanted her whole life: freedom and happiness.

She has them both in spades now. And though Regina knows she doesn't deserve the second chance that she's been given, she can't deny herself this happy ending. Regina hears the door open behind her before a warm, slender body wraps itself around her. "Merry Christmas," Emma whispers in Regina's ear.

Regina turns in Emma's arms and embraces the younger woman tightly. Emma still hasn't gotten used to all the changes in Regina. Looking at the brunette's warm, open, genuine smile, Emma can't quite believe that this is the same woman who had tried to chase her out of town a year and a half ago. "Merry Christmas, Emma," Regina tells her lover, capturing her lips in a long kiss.

Emma looks at Regina when they pull apart, studies the contours of her face, the beautiful brown eyes, the red just-kissed lips. Emma's still learning to trust this love after a lifetime of being alone. Luckily, Regina has turned out to be a closet romantic, and she's more than ready to be patient with Emma's fears. Snow has remarked to Emma on a few occasions that when Emma and Regina are together, Snow is reminded of the young, optimistic girl who saved her life all those years ago. It bolsters Emma to know that she's been able to change Regina's life as much as Regina has changed hers.

"Aren't you cold?" Emma asks.

Regina shakes her head. "I, unlike you, am wearing a coat and a scarf right now." She pivots, keeping one arm wrapped around Emma's waist and moves towards the house. "Come on, let's get you inside before you catch your death out here."

Emma navigates around the kitchen with ease. She and Regina had moved in together four months ago, and Emma had no qualms about making herself at home. The perfect routines that Regina had maintained despite having a young son were unraveled quickly by Emma's entrance into the house. Regina's learning to live with it. She's learned to accept the shoes kicked off by the door, the coats slung over the arm of the couch, the coffee maker left half full. They're signs that she is finally not alone.

"Alright, tell me Obi-Wan, what needs to be done?" Emma teases. Emma feels a little uncomfortable breaking into Regina and Henry's traditions; traditions that have been just for the two of them through Henry's whole life. But Regina has finally learned to trust that Henry loves her and that she can share her son with Emma without losing him. So Emma is about to take part in her first Mills Christmas.

"Why don't you get the dough from the refrigerator and I'll start chopping the apples."

Emma rolls her eyes lovingly. "Always apples with you."

"Caramel apple sticky buns are a Christmas tradition."

"Trust me, I know. Henry hasn't stopped talking about how good they are," Emma says putting the dough on the counter and stealing a slice of apple from the pile.

Emma gives Regina a smile, daring her to say something about the apple thievery. But Regina just grins right back at Emma, overwhelmed by joy, before pulling her lover in for a kiss.

"Mmm, you taste like apples," Regina whispers.

"Is that why you let me nibble when you cook?" Emma asks suspiciously.

"Maybe," Regina says with a smile still plastered across her face, "Or maybe it's because I love you."